Chapter 145
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 145
...The moment they stepped onto the front lines, the real war would begin.
The battlefield will be…
He unfurled the rolled-up map.
Nilkumbal's orcs had been moving in five divisions, but over the last two days, two of them had merged back into the main force, leaving three primary prongs of attack. At first glance, it looked like a multi-directional assault, but geographically speaking—
They will converge at a single point.
The Annun Plains.
If Riaze was the final line of defense, the plains were the intermediate one.
A massive, towering wall stretched across the rear of the Annun Plains. It was a location where they could fight a pitched battle or transition to a siege defense, depending on the situation. In the past, the Empire had repelled the majority of monster invasions at this very spot.
The sole reason a vanguard like the Nixir Red Dragon Subjugation Squad had been dispatched was to buy enough time for the other forces to assemble here.
This was where the first clash would take place.
There was more than enough military strength available.
The Red Spear of Roa, the sworn swords of the Imperial Family, had joined them.
The Third Eye, the Imperial Magic Society, stood ready to obey Ar's commands at a moment's notice.
Mass production of the new homunculi was also on the verge of beginning. As long as the materials were supplied, they could be churned out endlessly, thinning the orc ranks by tens of thousands on their own.
Above all, the entire Edelbreas Black Wolf Knights were ready for deployment, and they had the Heroes, Uin and Sian. If they threw every ounce of that strength into the fray, victory would be easy.
But…
If they ended the war at the Annun Plains, they wouldn't achieve their goal of recovering the Masterpieces. The current Pope was playing a passive game. The moment he sensed the orcs were losing, he would almost certainly vanish back into the shadows.
Why is the Pope being so passive, deploying only a handful of Paladins?
The answer was simple when one considered his ultimate goal.
He wants to seize the Empire.
What was his best move in this scenario? There was only one. Secretly facilitate the Empire's collapse. Once the Empire fell and only the orcs remained, he would step in to drive the beasts out. Then, he would declare to the surviving citizens:
We have driven the orcs away.
We, who have received divine revelation, shall protect you with our holy power.
He would win the hearts of the people, framing his treason as salvation. Backed by the absolute support of the citizenry, he would ascend to the pinnacle of the Empire.
"..."
If they were going to play the messiah, a moment would surely come when they had to reveal themselves to win over the public.
Judging by the circumstances, that moment would likely be after they assassinated the Emperor, eliminated the dangerous elements within the Empire, and the orcs had finally reached Riaze.
At the exact moment the Pope delivered his speech, Ar would eliminate both the Paladins and the Pope in one fell swoop.
The timing could be neither too early nor too late. If he acted too soon, the Paladins would go into hiding; if he was too late, reinforcements would arrive from the Holy Kingdom.
To make that happen…
He had to stage a defeat at the Annun Plains. This was where it would all begin.
He had already mapped out exactly who would exit the stage and who would make their entrance.
Just as he was putting the map away, the office door opened and Garot walked in. The moment she saw Ar, her brow furrowed. The black corruption had already consumed most of his face. At this rate, losing his other eye was only a matter of time.
"You should start getting ready," Garot said, stepping closer.
Over the past two days, nearly every subjugation squad in Riaze had been conscripted. The teleportation hub to transfer them to the Annun Plains was fully prepared. Before they marched, however, they needed a speech to rally and unite them.
That speech fell entirely on Ar's shoulders.
"Lady Uin is mentally prepared. Just as you ordered, Deputy, the Imitations of Apocalypse are ready. Sir Sturman has also recovered from his wounds and is fit for the front lines."
"That's a relief."
"How is your body? Are you alright?"
"I need a little more time."
He could only move after the current wave of excruciating pain had passed. If he didn't time it right, he would be struck by agony right in the middle of his speech. With the onset of his attacks becoming increasingly irregular, he had to be exceptionally careful.
Garot lowered her head slightly at his response. Watching his impending death unfold before her eyes, she found herself unable to offer any words of comfort.
"Once the war is over, please, don't do anything. Just rest."
"I intend to do exactly that," Ar replied with a bright smile.
It was so painfully obvious that the smile was an act that Garot could not bring herself to return it.
Her gaze drifted around the room, landing on the massive stack of papers piled on the corner of Ar's desk. It was a jumbled mess of documents, stacked nearly half a man's height.
"What is all this...?"
"An investigation into the Primordial Core."
Ar waved his hand, giving her permission to look. Garot picked up a few sheets from the top and scanned the contents.
"Did you just gather everything at random?"
"There haven't been many results."
The contents were indeed a chaotic mess. There were countless ancient texts, some dating back over a century, and quite a few had absolutely nothing to do with the Primordial Core. However, every single document contained at least one mention of the names Swallow, Patrick, or Rene. Garot let out a soft hum as she flipped through the pages.
"You asked the librarian of the Imperial Library to do this."
"I asked them to pull every document containing names associated with the Primordial Core. It took them a full four days, using magic to search every single book in the library."
Naturally, nothing useful had turned up.
Through the search, he had confirmed that the blade homunculus was undoubtedly from a generation prior to the second. However, all records concerning homunculi from before the second generation had been completely erased. There was no way any documentation would remain.
The same was true for Death Knight Patrick. If a skeleton of such overwhelming power existed, there should have been some historical record of him. Or so he had believed. But there were simply too many historical figures named Patrick to narrow it down. He had only succeeded in running the poor librarian ragged.
"They're mostly useless documents. It's highly likely those aren't even their real names. Or perhaps Swallow gave them those names himself."
"..."
As she flipped through a few more pages, one document caught Garot's eye. She held it out to Ar.
"This name sounds rather familiar."
Ar took the paper and chuckled.
"That's the name of the tombstone's owner, the one I prayed at last time. Since the search spell looks for exact spelling, all sorts of random things got caught in the net."
"..."
It was a document regarding the founding of the Empire, detailing an anecdote about a certain man. He was one of the most revered figures in the Empire, a founding father.
Patricio Rancel Swelve.
"This might sound like a desecration of imperial history, but is there any chance it could be him?"
"None. The tomb where I prayed has never been opened since the founding of the Empire. Without a corpse, he couldn't have been resurrected as an undead."
Garot, who had been scanning the document with mild curiosity, set it down and sank into the sofa.
The moment she sat, she leaned her head back against the cushions. She closed her eyes as if to organize her thoughts, then opened them again, lifting her head in the quiet room.
She surveyed her surroundings with a heavy, complicated expression.
The office was in disarray. At first glance, nothing seemed glaringly wrong, but there were far more bloody rags piled in the corner than before. The magic lamp that usually sat on the desk was gone, replaced by shards of broken glass wrapped in cloth. A faint smear of blood stained the side of the desk.
"This isn't like you, Commander."
The documents alone proved it. His method of gathering information was completely haphazard. How could he expect any results from such a chaotic approach?
Ar had never handled matters with such one-dimensional thinking before. Normally, he would have dispatched agents to other kingdoms or thrown bait to the Primordial Core to draw out the information himself. He was the type of person who would have searched for ancient texts about Swallow across the entire continent, meticulously verifying their authenticity.
"You seem anxious."
"..."
He likely had no peace of mind left.
Although he had initially been given six months based on the rate of corruption, the decay was now progressing several times faster than expected. He probably wanted to tie up all loose ends, even if only superficially. His rapidly worsening madness made his desperation obvious to any observer.
Garot had recently realized that Ar somehow managed to suppress his fits whenever others were around. At the very least, he refrained from destroying his surroundings or mutilating his own body when he wasn't alone.
Instead, he would stare at those around him with eyes brimming with murderous intent.
Sometimes, he would even shrink back in terror. It meant that in his eyes, the people around him appeared as monsters beyond imagination.
"Hand it over to me."
Watching someone die beside you was always an agonizing experience.
"I won't ask you to step down as Deputy and rest. But at least hand your workload over to me."
"I can't do that."
"Do you not trust me, Commander?"
"It's not that."
Unable to bring himself to say, It's because I trust you that I can't, Ar bit his lip.
Ar trusted Garot. While his trust wasn't absolute, he trusted her to the highest degree he could trust another human being. Because she was always by his side, she understood the broad strokes of how his mind worked, yet she continued to assist him in silence. She was one of the very few people who would go so far as to embrace his ideology for his sake.
And because he knew this, he could not burden her with it.
"This war, at least... I must finish it with my own hands," Ar's voice trailed off.
Garot stared at him, her face deeply contorted. It was a look of utter incomprehension, tinged with a fear she had never shown him before—a look far crueler than contempt.
"You are only ever 'the Commander' in moments like this," Garot sighed. "The conscription of the subjugation squads within Riaze is complete."
Having no intention of dragging out the conversation, she changed the subject.
"The location is the Knights' Sanctuary, as you requested. The official tally of forces is 5,344, though the actual turnout will likely be slightly lower."
"...I see."
A bit more than I expected, Ar thought, resting his chin on his clasped hands.
"When will you deliver the speech?"
This speech was of paramount importance. With the Empire's morale in shambles following consecutive defeats and the death of Kart, he needed to steady the turbulent atmosphere. It was a task only Ar could accomplish.
"I can't do it right now."
Ar's complexion was deathly pale. His symptoms seemed to worsen with each passing day. He needed to be in peak condition, if only for the duration of the speech.
"If you wait too long, it will have the opposite effect."
"You said everyone has gathered?"
"Yes."
"Then, in two hours."
"..."
Those words meant that another fit of madness would strike within the next two hours. Even holding a conversation seemed to take a toll on him; Ar couldn't even look Garot straight in the eye.
"...Rest a bit more. I will announce the speech for three hours from now. I will leave your freshly laundered uniform on the sofa, so please be properly attired when you arrive."
With that, Garot placed something on Ar's desk and slipped out of the office.
Only after her presence had completely faded did Ar let out a ragged groan that ended in a sharp fit of coughing. He covered his mouth, and when he pulled his hand away, his palm was slick with a thick pool of blood.
"...No."
The curse Swallow had inflicted upon him was like an inescapable fate, not something that could be overcome through sheer willpower. His body and mind were steadily being whittled away. Initially, he had managed to handle his public duties during the brief windows of lucidity between fits, but now even those intervals had become entirely unpredictable.
Not yet.
Steeling himself, he wiped the blood away with a handkerchief. The cloth had long since been stained crimson. As he pulled a fresh one from his drawer to wipe the cold sweat from his brow, the small box Garot had left behind caught his eye.
It was a small wooden box adorned with an elegant, intricate pattern.
"Ha."
Opening it, he found a small crystal vial filled with a clear liquid.
It was the kingdom-made elixir Garot had mentioned so many times before. He recalled her saying it was a panacea, brewed from the essence of high spirits harvested over centuries.
"What a waste of effort..."
Swallow's curse was not recognized by his body as an illness. Since it wasn't a disease, a cure-all like this would do nothing. Yet, knowing this, she had still gone to the trouble of procuring medicine from a distant kingdom.
Ar gently traced the crystal vial before uncorking it and slowly drinking the liquid. Naturally, there was no physical improvement. If anything, as the pure, clean energy entered his system, he felt the writhing, alien presence inside him eagerly swallow it whole.
It hurt. It hurt like hell. Even though this was supposed to be his window of relief, there was no sign of the pain subsiding. The madness that once stole only a few minutes of his day now felt as though it was claiming all of it.
"Is my time truly running out...?"
Ar smiled bitterly.
*
The appointed hour arrived.
"You're on time," Garot said as they walked down the corridor together.
Ar offered her a perfectly composed smile. Having cast a disguise spell to conceal the black corruption, he looked outwardly identical to his former self. Garot could only marvel at his acting.
"Everyone has gathered. The other dignitaries of Riaze are also watching to see how you handle this, Commander. Please, do not make any mistakes."