Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 157
Chapter Title: After the Capital Invasion (1)
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As befitting the capital, the delegations from the Elven Kingdom and the rest of the Enamel Continent—including everyone else—were the first to leave the Roselia Grand Temple once the summit conference concluded.
With the cooperation of the various temples, they swiftly headed east and arrived at the forest at the continent's eastern edge in just one day. Now, they were en route to the Enamel Continent via the 'Path of the Forest' operated by Raporte and Cecilia.
"In the end, aside from going back and forth between the eastern forest and the temple, we stayed cooped up inside temples the whole time on the Ion Continent. I know it makes sense since we weren't here to sightsee, but still... it feels a bit off."
Shaphiron grumbled softly as she walked the forest path alongside Harris.
Unlike when they'd arrived, her outfit was now much lighter, with all that luggage neatly stored in the sub-space magic tool dangling from her wrist.
It was a bit pitiful, like watching a child come to a harsh realization about the world... but that was probably just how people grew up.
"Still, it's not every day you get to meet people from all corners of the world like that. And they're all in positions most folks would never even glimpse."
Rustle, rustle—
Harris consoled her in a gentle voice and handed her a bag of popcorn.
"Hey, I'm not a kid! Why do you keep shoving food at me every time I say something? I know it was unavoidable, okay?"
She complained again, apparently dissatisfied with the treatment this time, but of course, she didn't refuse the popcorn in her hand.
As Shaphiron munched away busily while quietly traversing the forest path, she suddenly turned back to him as if remembering something.
"Come to think of it, you didn't get to explore the city either, Harris. Where'd you get this? Did you sneak out by yourself, you sneak?"
"Ah! It was a gift. A gift. You remember that big guy we met recently? Right before we parted, he stuffed a sub-space magic tool full of all sorts of stuff and handed it over."
"Oh... that mysterious guy? I thought he was some kind of beastkin relative at first. ...Wait, if he's a dragonkin, isn't that kinda right?"
He'd tried to deflect the awkward topic lightly, but she fell for it hook, line, and sinker, tilting her head in pointless contemplation once more.
But just then, someone intervened to resolve her dilemma.
"No, no! Beastkin and dragonkin are totally different, miss."
A beastkin approached them amiably, apparently having overheard their conversation.
With a lion-like mane hanging shaggily and a massive build that, while not quite Hari's size, was still enormous.
It was Lionel, the representative of Wild Land who had held his own against the Immortal King's assault.
"Beastkin are born that way naturally as a race, while dragonkin are artificially created lifeforms made by dragons. Sure, dragonkin can pass on their blood through reproduction once created, but the roots are fundamentally different."
He greeted them so amicably that it was hard to believe he was the same guy who'd stayed mostly silent during the conference and only gone berserk in battle.
"By the way, what's that in your hand, miss? Smells pretty tasty."
...Probably not drawn purely by the food.
Though he did seem a little too interested.
"Oh, this?"
At his blunt question, Shaphiron widened her eyes and held out the popcorn bag she'd been rustling through nonstop.
Whatever notions Harris had about her gluttony must have been mistaken, because she offered it up without the slightest hesitation or regret.
"I've already eaten it all. Want to sniff the bag?"
"...Nah, I'm good, miss. Don't go that far—my nose is sharp enough as is."
Apparently, she had no lingering attachment since it was just an empty bag.
Visibly taken aback by her brazenness, he paused for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing.
"Ahem, anyway, we sure owe the Elven Kingdom a lot. Thanks to that guy over there, we beat back the Immortal King, and now they're even helping with inter-continental travel."
"It's good to help each other when we can. But I heard you took quite a beating back then, Lionel. How's your body holding up now?"
"Huh? Oh! Of course. It's been ages since then—think I'd still be wheezing? Plus, after that intensive treatment at the Grand Temple, shaking it off quick is just beastkin pride!"
As expected of a beastkin, boasting innate physical superiority.
"Tch, they really need to build a Church of the Main God temple in Enamel soon. You heard about the big mess in the Empire's capital, right?"
"...Yeah, the Immortal King invaded Jelon."
But since they were already deep into the forest path transit, there wasn't much they could do.
They'd come as a diplomatic delegation, not combat support, so it wasn't like they could jump in anyway.
"If we'd been able to gate over from the temple, we could've responded faster... Apparently, it was discussed three hundred years ago too, but fizzled out after the Immortal King fell."
Of course, even among Enamel's heteroraces, there were priests who prioritized the Main God over their own faiths, but their religious sites topped out at large shrines.
Naturally, they lacked even one proper temple—the bare minimum for installing a gate.
Building a temple required not just materials but plenty of high-ranking priests too, which meant species-wide cooperation on Enamel to meet all conditions.
'Even if they respect the Main God, it's tricky when they have their own state religions.'
They wouldn't obstruct, but directly helping build a temple felt awkward.
The need arose three hundred years ago, but that also meant no pressing urgency since.
'Still, everyone reacted positively at this summit. Once they get back, the heterace leaders will confer separately and decide for sure.'
That would enable continent-scale support for swift temple construction.
The high elves would likely handle transporting the needed senior priests from the Ion Continent.
'...Feels like it's just emphasizing their role as a transport service even more.'
Harris, the high elf candidate, made a subtle expression.
It wasn't someone else's problem anymore.
Meanwhile, on the Ion Continent where chaos reigned—
The heterace delegation including Harris strolled peacefully along the forest path, blissfully incident-free.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Roselia Grand Temple's Third Central Cafeteria.
"Kuhaha! Now my stomach's finally settling! After that intense workout in ages, I was starving. A bit short, but overeating's no good—let's call it here."
A figure emerged grandly from the door, patting his belly contentedly...
"Man, I said just season and grill 'em roughly, but still. As expected of the Grand Temple chefs—their skills match their dedication! I sure ate well thanks to 'em."
It was the barbarian warrior Hari, who'd gone to support Jelon and returned to the holy city.
And the kitchen beyond the cafeteria he'd exited looked like a battlefield, with the chefs slumped over, panting heavily.
"...A tough opponent as always. Hungrier than yesterday."
"He just came back from an intense battle outside, so that must be why."
"Heh heh, but we won't lose. This Third Central Kitchen is the Grand Temple's elite..."
"Uh, head chef...?"
The head chef's triumphant words were cautiously interrupted by the sous-chef.
Perfectly understandable—watching painstakingly prepared food vanish down a gullet in seconds nearly broke even him.
But this was one of the Grand Temple's dining halls.
Dealing with hundreds of holy warriors and knights daily had built serious tolerance for big eaters.
That, however, was the problem.
"Dinner service is soon. We're already running a bit late, so if we don't start prepping right now..."
"...Right, yeah."
The meal for Harley—a guest who'd aided the Church—was unscheduled.
In other words, their main duty—satisfying hordes of famished trainees fresh from brutal workouts—hadn't even begun.
"Whew, no whining over this. Move it, you lot! How long you gonna laze? We're the Third Central Kitchen, Roselia's finest elite!"
"Yes, head chef!"
Dragging their weary bodies, they geared up for the next battle.
Normally rest time, now facing a formidable foe—some might collapse once it all ended...
But even if they did, no issue.
This was Roselia Grand Temple, continent's top medical facility!
"Eh—should've eaten a bit more? Feeling peckish already..."
Leaving the kitchen abuzz with resolve, Harley muttered words that would've given the chefs neck cramps and strolled the temple corridors.
Sure, his sub-space was stuffed with meats, but chef-cooked meals were obviously tastier.
To others, it looked like mindless shoveling, but his superhuman palate caught every nuance in those brief moments.
'Nah, enough. That's more than usual anyway. Even free, begging more would be shameless.'
He'd burned tons facing Hans and the undead army, but as this era's last conscience, such restraint was basic.
'...Speaking of, Heinrich still needs time.'
As a mere guest volunteer, Harley could return post-Jelon immediately.
But Heinrich had to stay for cleanup—the severity kept the Church's top man on-site.
'Plus, Jelon's Grand Temple is shorthanded from Rohan deployment and this mess.'
Still, proximity to the holy city let them spare Hari.
With Roselia staff now dispatched there, Heinrich should return soon.
'At least this incident's wrapping up.'
Post-Immortal King capital invasion.
From imperial leadership to back-alley scum, the entire capital ached from cleanup.
The palace barrier held to the end, sparing further casualties there, but...
Many knights who faced the Immortal King directly died or were wounded; even the Master-class Imperial Guard Captain was sidelined for recovery.
Noble houses and organizations hit in the simultaneous assaults fared no better.
Hans' subjugated undead legion, granted part of his mana and a chunk of "Eyes of the Abyss" ability—nicknamed the Evil Karma Detector—had purged ruthlessly.
'Olivia couldn't micromanage them all alone. Standards harsher than usual, sure.'
But unavoidable, right?
If anyone's gotta sacrifice, let it be the wicked.
His longstanding creed.
Of course.
He'd long realized he wasn't purely 'good' himself.
'...Anyway, Isea's bond with the princess is stronger than expected. Guessed it somewhat, but she's more proactive than thought. Now with prisoners to manage too, this is...'
"Ah, Hari? There you are. Got a moment to talk?"
Lost in thought en route to the training grounds for post-meal exercise, someone approached him.
One who'd recommended him for the strike team, bringing him here.
The Mercenary Guild's executive director, handling operations in the "Mercenary King's" stead.