Chapter 91
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 91
I think it was around this time of year. Or was I a little older? That was when I left for the Eastern Campaign Front. Back then, I had followed the imperial recruiter, knowing absolutely nothing.
Drifting like a leaf down a river, it took a month to reach my destination—and it was, quite literally, hell.
But I didn't fall into deep despair. I simply rolled in the dirt with my comrades and learned how to become a demon in hell.
How to stab, slash, and butcher to kill quickly and efficiently. How to wring tears of blood from the enemy's eyes. How to drive them to despair. How to utterly destroy, whether it was a human or an object.
Caldebert, you once told me I had the makings of a poet. But wouldn't you, too, have been a much better person if not for the battlefield?
Thinking about it now, perhaps I didn't even need to leave the battlefield. Not if the alternative was facing that falsehood and betrayal.
If only there had been a single warm word, or at least a look of pity. But instead, I was met with such a cold gaze.
They might have thought I was dead. Still, that icy stare and those harsh, merciless words were uncalled for. If that was how it was going to be, what choice did I have left?
Other than killing them all, that is.
"Ricky."
Inside the rattling carriage, Marie called out from the opposite seat. Rickert snapped out of his reverie.
"Hmm?"
"What are you thinking about?"
"Just... the past."
"You're spacing out."
"Huh?"
"Stay sharp. Stay focused."
Marie was mimicking what Rickert had told her once before. A chuckle escaped his lips.
"Alright, alright. I'll stay sharp."
"Anyway, I hope this job wraps up quickly. We don't have much agarwood left."
The agarwood Dr. Leno had given him was only about a month's supply, so he had been buying it out of pocket ever since. Not only was it expensive, but it was also hard to find, meaning the price fluctuated constantly.
Sometimes a piece cost nearly as much as a house; other times, he received it as payment for a job. Consequently, Rickert and Marie's financial situation was far from good.
Marie, despite being a Swordmaster, was practically penniless because she had chosen the wrong boyfriend. Of course, she had no complaints; she only wanted to do whatever she could for Rickert.
Rickert turned to look out the carriage window. He saw the adventurers of the Ehrenberg Branch marching silently, their heads bowed. It was like looking at his past self setting off for the Eastern Campaign Front.
The fields outside were already turning a dry, withered yellow. Although the subjugation campaign was originally planned for the spring, various practical constraints had delayed the assembly order until autumn.
Surprisingly, the commander-in-chief was Count Palatine Hellauman of Kelbron, who was leading the campaign in person.
Around ten guilds had been mobilized, with the Beringen Guild contributing about a hundred adventurers. Among them, the Ehrenberg Branch made up the highest proportion, sending forty members. The total force numbered around seven hundred.
Rickert, however, remained somewhat skeptical. Simply put, adventurers were not soldiers. This was not an army.
While an adventurer's individual combat skills might surpass an ordinary soldier's, an army relied far more on cohesion, unity, and organizational strength than on individual prowess.
In that regard, adventurers—each with their own distinct, strong personalities—might excel in scouting, extermination, or small-scale special operations, but they were ill-suited for large-scale warfare.
Therefore, Rickert believed that the more adventurers gathered, the more inefficient they became.
But then again, the enemy's situation was likely similar, so he wasn't particularly worried.
A competent military commander was rarer than a Swordmaster. Since he doubted such a figure existed on either side, he figured it was a fair fight.
"Looks like we're here. I can see it over there," Boribori's voice drifted in from outside.
Rickert lightly leaped down from the moving carriage.
In the distance, colorful tents dotted the vast fields, belonging to the adventurers who had arrived early.
"By the way, I don't see any river," Volka said, looking around. There was nothing but a vast plain stretching out like gentle waves; not a drop of water was in sight.
"There is no river here. We'll have to dig wells," Rickert replied immediately, already familiar with the local geography.
Meanwhile, his heart began to race uncontrollably. It was difficult to calm down. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually standing here stirred a completely different set of emotions.
The familiar scent of nostalgia rising from the mountains, fields, sky, and wind made his chest ache.
It felt as if his heart were being sliced by a blade, yet at the same time, filled to the brim. He couldn't quite describe it. A sudden surge of emotion welled up inside him, and he struggled to swallow it down without letting it show.
No matter where he looked, this place was steeped in a heartbreaking nostalgia.
It was the birthplace of betrayal, hatred, despair, and anger—and the homeland of an innocent boy who had once lived the most peaceful life in the world, wanting for nothing.
As the two carriages, five carts, and forty-odd Ehrenberg adventurers approached the assembly point, members of the Beringen Guild who had been watching from afar came over to greet them.
"Fuck, did you guys empty out your entire branch for this?"
"Wow, almost all of them actually came."
"Are you guys seriously believing the Fifth Prince's promise?"
Playful, friendly banter rained down on Volka and the other adventurers.
At the same time, the early arrivals cast subtle glances at the Ehrenberg quartet: Rickert, Marie, Boribori, and Ice.
In particular, Rickert's breastplate, catching the light through his cloak, drew their eyes. Destroying an entire guild and claiming their heirloom treasure as war booty carried immense symbolic weight.
"Hey, when else are we ever going to get a shot at becoming nobles? This is our chance. The guys who didn't show up are the real idiots," Volka said.
The Fifth Prince, Bellator, had publicly declared that he would bestow titles of nobility upon those who distinguished themselves in the subjugation campaign.
Whether he had the authority to do so without being the Emperor was questionable, but given how many lawless, ownerless lands lay devastated across the world today, it didn't seem like an outright lie.
Above all, the subjugation campaign held immense symbolic importance for Bellator as well. It was his chance to avenge the late Emperor.
"Nobles always say one thing to your face and do another behind your back. How many times do you have to get fooled to learn?"
"Then why the hell did you show up?"
"To ride your coattails, obviously. I figured I could still grab a piece of the pie. Hey, life is all about freeloading!"
"Pfft, dumbass."
Volka exchanged idle banter with the clan leaders and other branch heads. Afterward, he headed to Dunkel's tent to report their arrival, and they began setting up camp.
They leveled the ground with shovels, spread tough canvas across the dirt, and pushed up a thick log to erect the center pole.
When Rickert effortlessly lifted the heavy log—a task that usually required several men—and drove it straight into the ground by himself, the onlookers stared in amazement.
Once they had pitched a spacious two-person tent and furnished it with cots and other daily necessities, Rickert began to walk away.
"Where are you going?" Boribori asked, turning around as he followed Volka to a meeting of the clan masters.
"Just looking around."
"Shouldn't a lung patient be resting?"
"It's not like my arms and legs are cut off."
"Marie's going with you, right? Make sure she does."
Wonders never cease. To think Boribori would actually worry about him. It seemed Rickert's fragile condition was genuinely concerning to his companion.
Having someone care for him felt quite nice. A faint smile touched his lips.
"Here she comes. We'll be back before sunset."
Rickert waited for Marie to catch up, and together they set off into the vast plains. Their destination was his old village.
*
She stared directly at the sun. Yet, for some reason, it wasn't blinding.
She didn't even know why she was looking at it, but an ominous premonition that something terrible was about to happen felt like an absolute certainty.
Then, a round shadow began to cover the sun from top to bottom.
Heavens, what was happening? Was such a thing even possible? The heart of the girl staring at the sun pounded wildly. An overwhelming anxiety that the world was ending washed over her.
The shadow crept further down. It was as if the sun were closing its eyes. The bright day plunged instantly into night.
As the sun closed its eyes completely, a ring of sacred light flashed. And there stood a figure, wearing that ring like a halo upon his head.
Shrouded in pitch-black shadow, he stood atop a sacred altar and slowly turned his head, his eyes burning with a golden flame.
At that moment, the anxiety transformed into unbearable sadness, pain, and regret, swallowing the girl whole.
"Ah!"
With a gasp, Daisy snapped her eyes open. Cold sweat drenched her, and goosebumps covered her arms and neck. Her plush bed and pillow were damp.
Daisy panted heavily, trying to calm her racing heart. Outside light seeped through a gap in the thick curtains.
"Michaela, are you okay? Did you have a prophetic dream?"
Michaela was the name Daisy had received after entering the Order.
The girl in the adjacent bed spoke. She was breathtakingly beautiful.
Yet Daisy, with her melancholic air, was no less stunning. The whites of her large eyes were flawless, and her long blonde hair was as fine as silk.
"Yeah..."
"You've been having them often lately. Was it the eclipse?"
"Yes."
"Still, you have it easy compared to some. Ariella dreams of all kinds of gruesome corpses."
"But the emotions carry over. It's so sad and painful. It's almost unbearable."
Prophetic dreams were not merely glimpses of future scenes. They allowed the dreamer to fully experience the emotions of those involved, meaning negative feelings like terror, fear, and anxiety were felt in their entirety.
However, unlike Armand, who could observe the whole picture, the Sisters only saw fragmented pieces. Thus, the Order cross-referenced multiple prophecies to verify the truth.
Relatively recently, however, they had made a crucial discovery through Daisy: the god would resurrect on the day of a solar eclipse.
By employing astronomy, they were able to pinpoint the exact date, which was why they had caused that incident in the Imperial Capital Nibelungen last year.
The girl in the bed next to Daisy was also one of the Sisters of Prophecy, appearing to be three or four years older than Daisy. Even so, she was likely only fifteen or sixteen.
She walked over to Daisy, gently rubbing her shoulders to comfort her.
"It will all be over soon. Once our God resurrects, He will take away all that anxiety and fear. We only need to think of Him. Believe, and obey. Then, peace will dwell here."
The girl pointed to Daisy's heart as she spoke. But instead of answering, Daisy changed the subject.
"...But, Aisa, do you still dream too?"
"My dreams aren't of much help."
Having prophetic dreams didn't automatically make them useful. There were twelve Sisters of Prophecy in total, and among them, only three—including Daisy—beheld truly decisive visions.
One saw the resurrection, another saw the blade of sacred golden flame, and the third saw a blood-drenched scene. The Order interpreted this as the resurrected god slaughtering all their enemies.
In any case, since the Order did not know the preferences of the god who would resurrect, they managed the Sisters by age groups, ranging from twelve to twenty years old.
Once the god resurrected, the Sisters were trained to worship, revere, and love Him, dedicating their entire being to continuing His bloodline.
But Daisy was different. She hid her true feelings deep within her heart. For her beloved was not a god, but another man.
"Still, I want to hear it."
Aisa didn't understand why Daisy loved her simple visions so much. But if it could calm her down, there was no harm in sharing.
"Hmm... alright. A cool breeze, warm midday sun, a ruined village... and in a secluded house to the southwest, there is a young man wearing a red cloak. His eyes are hazel..."
Every time Daisy heard this trivial story—no, this prophecy—her heart pounded. Because she was absolutely certain that the young man was her beloved, Rickert.
She could never forget. That moment was permanently etched into her heart.
‘I'm Ricky. What's your name?’
She didn't care about any god; to Daisy, that boy was her savior.
"Are you feeling a bit better now? Shall we go wash up?"
"Yes."
Led by Aisa's hand, Daisy headed to the baths.
The baths were meticulously finished with marble tiles, exuding luxury. Moreover, warm water was available at all times.
Although the Sisters of Prophecy underwent rigorous training, their daily supervision was relatively lax. Since they were the women destined to serve the god, no one within the Order dared to mistreat them, and punishment was out of the question.
Consequently, most of the Sisters' daily routine consisted of grooming themselves or practicing arias to please the god.
They were provided with highly nutritious, fresh food, clean bathwater every day, and special beauty ointments crafted by the Order.
Compared to the children undergoing training to become Swordmasters, the difference in their treatment was like heaven and hell.
In return, the Sisters always had to wear white robes and veils, and they were strictly forbidden from showing their faces to anyone.
Living a life completely cut off from the outside world, the bond among the Sisters was exceptionally strong.
After Daisy and Aisa had finished bathing, combing each other's hair, and applying their ointments, Daisy did not head back to their quarters. Instead, she directed her steps in an entirely different direction.
"Where are you going?"
"Aisa, keep watch for me."
"Oh, not this again." Seeing that this was not the first time, Aisa looked utterly dismayed.
The quarters where the Sisters of Prophecy lived were located in an annex of the vast temple. It resembled a flatland castle, and surveillance here was virtually nonexistent.
Daisy walked over to a small side door in the castle wall and easily opened the rusted padlock. She had spent several days sawing through it herself.
Not knowing what to do, Aisa kept looking around anxiously, her veil fluttering with her movements.
Regardless, Daisy simply pushed the side door open.
"Michaela! You must be back before sunset!" Aisa hissed in a low voice. While the Sisters weren't physically punished, if they were caught, they would be scolded and lectured all day long by the eldest Sister.
"I know. Don't worry. I know what time it is."
Since Aisa's prophecy had clearly specified midday, Daisy believed she would have plenty of time to return before sunset.
She boldly stepped outside. Then, she pulled off the cumbersome veil that was flapping in the wind.
Though the wind whipped her long white robe tight against her body, Daisy's steps never faltered. She wasn't merely waiting for destiny; she was going to seize it.
When her mother had left her with the Order, Daisy had passed by the ruined village. So, she knew exactly where it was.
Daisy walked for nearly four or five hours through the cool morning before finally reaching the ruined village. Having been abandoned for over a century, the village was overgrown with vegetation, looking as though it had become a part of nature itself.
She hadn't eaten and should have been starving, but she didn't care. Mumbling "southwest, southwest" to herself, Daisy eventually reached a roofless, open-air house.
She went inside, curled up, and simply waited. Her only activity was occasionally checking the sun to gauge the time.
It didn't matter if it wasn't today. She could just come back next time, and the time after that. In fact, coming here to wait had become a regular routine for her.
However, having walked for hours without a single break, exhaustion finally caught up to her, and Daisy began to nod off like a drowsy chick.
How long had she been dozing? Suddenly, a cool breeze swept in, gently caressing Daisy. It felt like a prophetic wind, whispering that he had arrived.
"Oh? There's someone here."
An unfamiliar voice. Daisy's sleepiness vanished instantly as she snapped her head up. A red cloak. A man standing with his back to the light.
Uh...?
Daisy squinted against the harsh backlight. As her eyes slowly adjusted and the man came into focus, she didn't recognize him immediately.
He had grown significantly during the time they had been apart. Though a trace of youthfulness still lingered on his face, it was no longer accurate to call him a boy.
"Huh?"
Rickert, too, felt like he had seen her somewhere before, but he couldn't immediately recognize the slightly changed Daisy. Marie, who had been exploring elsewhere, approached.
"Someone's here? Is she a spy?"
At that moment, Daisy cried out the name of the man she had yearned for so deeply and threw herself into his arms.
"Husband!"