The Fortress of Dead Wood
“Lord Anak.”
“…Yes?”
“Is something troubling you? Your expression has been rather grim for some time now.”
The captain, at least, maintained a minimum of courtesy.
“No, I was simply lost in old memories.”
Then another voice rose from behind.
“In that case, why not share one of your heroic tales, Lord Anak!”
The tone was that of someone demanding tricks from a jester.
“Flamel! I told you to mind your manners!”
The captain’s rebuke went unheeded. Instead, the other knights who had been silent began to join in one by one.
“A tale! A tale!”
“A tale! A tale!”
It would have been better if it were the childish demands of boys. But their eyes looked down on me, merely commanding a clown to perform.
“……”
The captain wore a troubled expression and simply stared at me in silence. Yes, that was the easier path.
“…Very well. What story would you like to hear?”
There was no reason I couldn’t tell one or two stories. After all, today was a day when old memories came easily. And these men would be the ones to regret their rudeness.
“Could you tell us about the events at the Fortress of Dead Wood?”
The Fortress of Dead Wood. Yes, Lauti’s performance there had been truly remarkable.
“At the time, the Fortress of Dead Wood was under the control of Death Army Commander Georges. A fitting assignment for the Demon King’s forces, naturally.”
The Fortress of Dead Wood. Its official name was El Bol Gat, meaning “Stairway of the Glorious Mansion.” Located deep within the Enoch Canyon, it had been the most critical and fiercely contested site during the seventy-year war between the Kingslie Dynasty and the Powere Alliance. Countless soldiers from both sides had perished there, and the ashes of their bodies had blanketed the entire canyon. Though the fortress itself was carved from red rock, it earned its nickname because wooden plaques bearing the names of the fallen—serving in place of proper memorial tablets—covered the canyon walls surrounding it.
It was the perfect place for a Death Army to take root.
And Death Army Commander Georges. Though he raised the dead and commanded countless undead legions, earning the title of Nether King, he was the opposite of his rank and epithet—bright, cheerful, and, if I may say so, truly beautiful.
His appearance was striking, but his character was even more so. The lands under his rule were largely peaceful, and civilians rarely suffered. Even when he stood in our way, he remained a gentleman, never resorting to cowardly tactics even when he could have easily killed us. At times, he even withdrew with a show of respect.
He was, in a way, very much like Rowell. Like the hero, he shone like a sun that brightened everything around him. Had he not been a demon serving Demon King Thanatos, he might well have been the one to save the world.
However, he possessed an excessive sense of aesthetics; half the epithets attached to our party were ones he had coined.
My own title, Summoner of Deception, was given when I trapped and annihilated his Death Knight unit during battle, and he bestowed Aegina’s title, Golden Flash, as well.
Because he—a commander with vast influence and popularity—continued to refer to us by those names, the titles spread throughout the Demon King’s army and eventually became fixed, used by allies and enemies alike.
“We had to pass through that fortress to reach the Demon King’s castle. Yet El Bol Gat was considered impregnable even without the Death Army’s control. Moreover, the endless waves of resurrected soldiers from past wars made victory seem impossible.”
Fortunately, Georges was absent from the fortress at the time, but the battle was still grueling.
“While the others drew attention outside the fortress……”
While the main force kept the enemy occupied at the front, Lauti, Aegina, and I made our way to the Ritual Chamber deep within the fortress, where the wide-area barrier from the war was maintained. Even with the diversion outside, countless undead soldiers and demons remained inside. Aegina and I fought with everything we had to protect Lauti.
It may not have been as bad as what our companions faced against the main army, but we fought so fiercely that we forgot to breathe.
The endless onslaught of skeletons and Death Knights made it impossible to advance even a single meter.
And when we finally reached the Ritual Chamber, that was not the end.
Our plan was for Lauti to conduct her purification ritual from within the chamber, spreading it throughout the entire fortress. If successful, the fortress would be completely cleansed, leaving not a single undead soldier behind—but it required a great deal of time.
“Once we reached the Ritual Chamber, we first layered multiple barriers on the door and piled broken debris into a barricade. Aegina was already exhausted, and my mana was nearly depleted.”
The ten layers of equipped barriers we had set were gone. If the door broke now, there would be no way out.
…Except for one.
“We truly gave everything to hold them back. We worried about our companions fighting outside, but if we failed, we would be trapped inside the fortress with no escape. Skeletons and wraiths poured in from all sides, and the clanking footsteps of Death Knights echoed. It felt as though the blood in my veins had frozen.”
In the end, the barriers were torn apart, and the crude barricade collapsed with ease. Aegina prepared for a final strike, sensing the end, while I recited a spell I never wished to use again.
“And at that very moment, Lauti’s ritual ended.”
Light filled the surroundings, and the overflowing holy power stripped the undead soldiers of their strength, causing them to vanish. The light spread from the Ritual Chamber throughout the entire fortress.
“It was a magnificent sight. Tens of thousands of undead stationed at El Bol Gat were purified in an instant.”
The Silent Empress, Lauti. I can say with certainty that she possesses the greatest holy power on this earth.
Ruda Casiafa. The sacred hill whose name means “Kind Turtle” is considered one of the holiest sites, alongside the divine sanctuary of Asgard and the Temple of Amesa in the capital of the Holy Empire.
If Asgard is the villa where the gods reside when they descend to earth, managed by fairies and divine beasts, then Ruda Casiafa is the place where great gods have long granted oracles and revelations to humanity.
Lauti was born at Ruda Casiafa with the oracle: “This child shall be the First Priest of the Holy God Eldeia, revealing her purity upon the earth. Treat her as you would the Holy God Eldeia herself.”
She grew up in Eldeia’s temple and, from a very young age, used her immense holy power to heal countless patients. The tale of the young girl curing a blind old woman is famous. People revered her as Eldeia incarnate, just as the oracle foretold. Eventually, not only ordinary believers but even high-ranking priests began to worship her like a god, following her every word as divine decree.
In the end, to prevent the chaos her existence caused, she took a vow of silence. She rarely broke it, and during our travels, she only did so twice.
“As expected of Lady Lauti.”
“Truly worthy of being Eldeia’s First Priest.”
They seemed quite satisfied with my story. We were nearly at the campsite for the night, and they no longer appeared inclined to demand more performances from the jester.
“But Lord Anak, is Lady Lauti truly that beautiful?”
Apparently, a few still remained.
“She is beautiful.”
“More so than Lady Aegina?”
The question was foolish. If Aegina was a forest, Lauti was a lake. They possessed entirely different charms; comparing them was meaningless. Still, since they had asked, and because they would not want a complicated or serious answer, I replied simply.
“Yes. She is a little more beautiful.”
At least, that was how she appeared to my eyes.
“Ooh.”
Their eyes sparkled at my words. They had already seen Aegina and witnessed her dazzling beauty. Yet now I claimed Lauti surpassed her, so they each imagined that beauty and marveled. Soon, base desires flickered across their gazes. Unconsciously, I clenched my fists.
I knew those base desires well. Foolishly and pathetically, even I had not been free from them during our journey. It was fortunate that Rowell and Aegina had been by my side. Seeing their noble and pure forms had always reminded me that such feelings were never meant for me.
“By the way, Lord Anak, did you happen to see anything during your travels?”
Flamel, the knight who had first demanded a performance, approached with a sly grin.
“What……?”
I didn’t know what he meant, but his eyes and voice grated on me. The gaze openly displaying base desire, the voice like a crawling insect—I wanted to crush him immediately. But he paid no heed to my feelings and continued.
“I mean, you traveled with such beautiful women for quite a long time. You must have camped most nights, and battles were always fierce. So how did everyone bathe?”
Ah. I understood.
It felt as though blood were rushing to my head in reverse. My mind grew hazy, yet one emotion grew clearer and darker.
“Especially since the Hero and Lady Aegina were already close at the time, did you ever see anything interesting at night? You know, behind the tents or in the bushes by the valley, for example.”
He was imagining things on his own without knowing anything, yet speaking as though he knew it all and demanding I confess. Not only had he dragged Rowell, Aegina, and Lauti into his vulgar fantasies, but he was also asking me to confirm that I was no different.
The other knights each wore unpleasant smiles, enjoying the situation.
“Flamel. That’s enough.”
The captain issued his usual warning, but this time it was too late.
“…Wedge of Sleeplessness.”
With the short incantation, dark red tree roots burst from the ground and smashed Flamel’s head. That foolish expression was crushed and erased from this world, and that filthy voice would no longer pollute the world or my ears.
The horses reared in fright at the sudden sharp roots erupting beneath them, and the knights fell into chaos amid the panic and the animals’ frenzy.
“Wh-what!”
“Whoa! Easy! Calm down!”
And I did not miss the opening.
“Sylph, drop them.”