Chapter 150: The Road Flows with the Traveler - 6
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 150: The Road Flows with the Traveler - 6
Humans are creatures that must sleep.
Sleep is an inevitable demand of life. It can be postponed, but never refused. The same holds true even in the middle of a flowing road.
The ability to sleep while on the move is both a blessing and a curse. Even under these circumstances, humans must fulfill their obligation to sleep.
I was groaning from the rough vibrations running through my entire body.
“Wake up. Wake up…”
A hand urgently shook my shoulder as a hurried voice whispered in my ear.
Ugh, what is it? Don't interrupt my precious sleep. The only way to make up for poor quality sleep is with quantity.
I twisted my body and mumbled.
“Just ten more minutes…”
But the words that followed were enough to jolt even me wide awake.
“…Robbers. Wake up.”
“Huh? Robbers?”
The Meta Conveyor Belt and highway robbers.
There was a vast gulf between those two phrases.
Once, there was a futile invention called the railway and the train. Two lines of steel meant to create a path for vehicles, a well-intentioned road to paradise.
It quickly faded into the annals of history due to incidents like curious beasts chewing on the tracks, enemy spies disguised as beasts committing acts of terror, or highwaymen with too much time and not enough money launching attacks.
Compared to that piece of junk, this Meta Conveyor Belt could be called a near-perfect invention.
Even those with malicious intent could not damage the Meta Conveyor Belt. Any attempt to sabotage the road mid-flow would only result in the damage flowing away or being filled in. To truly stop this current, one would have to be prepared to dig up the entire land.
It was synonymous with impossible.
Boarding the belt was also difficult. Unlike a train, which stops moving and just spins its wheels if the tracks are blocked, the proudly flowing earth paid no mind to anything and continued on its way.
Even collapsing a cliff wouldn't block the path; the belt would simply carry the cliff along with it. Humans had no choice but to adapt to the land's movement.
Finding a target was also hard. The Meta Conveyor Belt carried countless goods to and from all corners of the Military State. Unlike a railway, where every passing train was a treasure chest, there was no way to know what cargo was in which container without a pair of piercing eyes.
Furthermore, the people who used this road were usually soldiers.
Say you somehow overcame all these obstacles and stole something? Congratulations. Now all you had to do was jump off with your exhausted body and a heavy pack on your back.
By then, the horse or carriage you rode in on would be far behind you. And in their place, the Military State's forces would be waiting.
Therefore, robbing the Meta Conveyor Belt had become something only undertaken by an organization with the power and coordination to dream of overthrowing the state…
For example. Like the Resistance.
Huh?
“The Resistance?”
“Assumption, affirmative! Right now, they—they’re dropping from above…!”
Just as the captain said that.
“Yaaaaah!”
A battle cry echoed from above.
The sky had not yet fully brightened. We happened to be passing through a valley, so the morning came late, and the half-asleep people rubbed their eyes, peering into the dim fog.
But the intruders came from above.
In the distance, about ten people came pouring down, their bodies tethered to ropes.
They must have practiced beforehand. The ropes traced precisely calculated arcs, swerving at the last second before impact to run parallel with the belt. Landing lightly on the moving earth, they released the ropes in unison and rolled.
When they rose, each held a gunblade.
Only one man landed smoothly, scraping the ground with a long spear instead of a gun.
The Resistance members, who had descended as nimbly as monkeys, aimed their weapons in all directions and shouted.
“Everyone, freeze!”
Seriously. What a bunch of pathetic losers.
I silently watched the pups who dared to block my path.
“Hands up and kneel!”
I obediently did as I was told. A gun has no conscience. Yep.
As their gazes fell upon them, the terrified mother hugged her son tightly. She was trembling so much with fear that she was nearly sobbing.
The man with the spear, who appeared to be the leader, gave the mother and son a reassuring smile and said.
“We are the Resistance. Friends of the people. We have no intention of harming you, as you are not soldiers.”
Meanwhile, behind him, other Resistance members used large axes and tools to break open the cargo. The securely sealed container shattered, revealing several neatly packed boxes inside. Most of the Resistance members, excluding the leader, took out lamps and went inside.
All the while, the leader kept his spear aimed as he counted the people.
“Two civilians. One engineer. And here…”
“Civilians! We’re civilians! We’re just on our way back home to Amitengrad!”
I spoke up before the captain could say anything. Dressed in my shabby clothes, with the captain still just in her shirt, we looked like perfect civilians.
The Resistance leader glanced around and muttered.
“No soldiers? Well, I suppose there wouldn't be any soldiers heading this way right now.”
‘That’s why we aimed for this window. We were lucky.’
The leader lowered his guard slightly, his sharp gaze still darting around as he spoke.
“Stay still. We are the Resistance, reclaiming the kingdom’s rightful assets.”
The old engineer, who had been caught up in the mess, asked, “The kingdom?”
“That’s right. Everything in the Military State originally belonged to the kingdom. We are taking back what the Military State has unjustly seized.”
The Resistance, which sought to overthrow the Military State, was a motley crew of individuals.
Knights from the old kingdom, spirited youths, and the dregs cast out by the Military State. Their reasons were different, but in the end, they were all people who could not live under the same sky as the Military State, and they gathered to form a faction.
The largest faction among them was, naturally, the knights—the establishment of the old era.
The King’s Spears.
It was only natural that the knights, who possessed wealth, power, influence, and military might, became the core of the movement.
“The Military State acted like cowards, making their move and toppling the nation while the provincial knights were defending their posts. Had all the provincial knights been gathered at the royal castle, the revolt of those common soldiers would have ended as a mere riot. How is that any different from having our country stolen from us?”
The knights were the ruling class of the nation, and at the same time, the lords of their own domains.
Many knights had been in other provinces during the coup d'état. When the Military State seized power, they either resisted or went into hiding with their money and vassals. That power became a spear aimed at the Military State, causing it to falter significantly both internally and externally in its early days.
Though now, the only ones faltering were the Resistance.
In any case, the Resistance leader, Sir Baltzroy, muttered in discontent, exuding a sharp aura.
“What would ignorant commoners like you understand? Commoners who know nothing of honor or glory…”
Clad in knightly arrogance, Sir Baltzroy watched over us, not lifting a single finger while the other Resistance members looted the container.
As if his noble self couldn't possibly stoop to such menial labor.
Just as the commotion inside the container grew louder, the captain beside me flinched.
‘I may be a signaller, but I am a captain of the Military State. I must be faithful to my duty.’
Huh? Why all of a sudden? Wait. No, right? It's not what I'm thinking, is it?
‘I am a signaller, but a captain nonetheless. I cannot overlook rebels stealing the Military State’s assets.’
To my dismay, the captain, having made up her mind, started to get up. She was about to insert a Clothing Packet into her bio-receptor.
Just as Sir Baltzroy noticed the movement and was about to react.
“Waaaaah!”
I quickly tackled the captain, and we tumbled to the ground. I grabbed her fist to keep her from opening her hand and clamped my other hand over her mouth, pinning her down with my body weight.
Pinned beneath me, the captain struggled and shouted.
“Let g—mmph!”
“I’m so sorry! My Bbey has an anxiety disorder!”
Seriously, are you insane?!
Our opponent is a knight, once part of the kingdom’s ruling class. Even a combat-ready captain would have a tough time, so what’s a signaller—a captain in name only—going to do?! Scream in his ear? Actually, that might give you a fighting chance!
As the captain and I scuffled, Sir Baltzroy pointed his spear at us and said, “What is the meaning of this?”
“Don’t mind us! She has seizures! I’m holding her down for times like this! Ack!”
Dammit, she bit me. But I gritted my teeth and kept her mouth covered.
The captain, pinned beneath me, let out a muffled shout.
‘Let go! I am a soldier of the Military State! I must be faithful to my duty!’
There are duties and then there are duties. This is a pointless death! Why are you trying to step up when you can’t even fight? Are you trying to get yourself killed?
‘The moment I am discovered, I must either take my own life or kill you, the one who found and saved me. That is the duty of a signaller who handles the most important secrets!’
Wait. Why bring that up now?
…Ah. Don’t tell me.
‘But until now, I have not been faithful to my duty. I was so excited to be out in the world that I postponed the moment of choice I knew I must one day face. I turned a blind eye to my duty. But I cannot do so any longer.’
Tsk.
Damn that Military State. What did they do to make a person like this?
‘If. If I die resisting the Resistance. That, too, would be fulfilling my duty. Then, I would no longer have to agonize. This is the only chance for you to live. So let me go!’
Just as the captain, having made her decision, tried to push me off and stand up.
Before she could, the old engineer rose to his feet. With a world-weary expression, he took in the Resistance members dismantling the container and Sir Baltzroy.
“…You called us ignorant, did you?”
The engineer moved, heedless of the gun aimed at him.
The only difference between the captain and the engineer was that the captain had me by her side to stop her from doing something crazy. Facing the Resistance, the engineer muttered with all the sorrows of his life.
“My older brother died during the construction of the Meta Conveyor Belt. He fell into the flowing earth, his whole body crushed. A man ground up alive… I can still see it clear as day. On my days off, I walk this belt under the pretext of maintenance, remembering my brother. I still… resent the Military State. The State that took my brother and his colleagues with its reckless construction.”
“Oho. So a weed can grow even in the mud. It seems we have an enlightened one at last.”
Sir Baltzroy was greatly pleased to hear these negative words about the Military State. As expected, there’s nothing like cursing a common enemy to get friendly with someone.
“Perhaps you’ll join the Resistance? The Resistance always welcomes technicians like you…”
“Still. No matter how much I resent the Military State.”
The engineer’s wrinkled face twisted violently. He etched crimson fury into every line of hardship on his face.
With a hatred and contempt that could never be matched, the engineer gritted his teeth and answered.
“It’s a hundred times better than that whoreson kingdom.”
“…What?”
A crack appeared in Sir Baltzroy’s expression.
Facing the killing intent radiating from the knight, the engineer let out a scream condensed from years of bitter resentment. It was the cry of one who remembered the past, the age of hatred and duels, a cry that was slowly being forgotten.
“That’s right, you whoresons! At least my brother died working as a carpenter. He died horribly, but at least it wasn’t pathetic! It’s better than you goddamn bastards who strutted around calling yourselves knights, killing people like they were toys!”
Sir Baltzroy’s face turned beet red at the insult. He gripped his spear so tightly it seemed it would break, and strode toward the engineer.
“…It seems you wish to die.”
Even as he faced the murderous knight, the engineer shouted, veins bulging in his neck.
“Yes! Kill me! You kingdom dogs who fucked with scoundrels! Just like you killed my father and mother. Go on, kill me too!”
“If you insist.”
Sir Baltzroy took off his gauntlet and threw it before the engineer. It landed with a soft thud.
The era of the kingdom, the age of knights. A time when strength was the nation's power and authority.
There were laws back then, but they were rarely enforced. Instead, a form of trial called the duel was rampant.
Two would compete in strength, and the winner would take all. The victor was truth and justice, and this was done in the name of god.
Sir Baltzroy, having thrown his gauntlet, gripped his spear with his bare hand and aimed it at the engineer.
“This is a duel. Vermin. Pick up your weapon.”
The Military State forbids personal duels. Therefore, citizens born after the military government was established didn't really know what a duel was or what it meant.
But those who had lived since the time of the kingdom instinctively trembled at the sight of the institution that had claimed the most lives in the kingdom.
As the engineer flinched in fear, Sir Baltzroy recited an abbreviated version of the duel's creed.
“Issue your challenge. Victory itself is justice, and the victor is surely protected by the Sky God.”
“Divinity, my ass! If thugs running wild is the will of a god, then what is that god but a god of thugs!”
The engineer steeled himself and shouted.
“…An ignorant lout who doesn't even know the etiquette of a duel. If you had at least accepted properly, I would have given you a clean death.”
Whoosh. The spear cut through the air. Sir Baltzroy settled into his stance like a predator, glaring at the engineer as if to devour him.
“I will sever your limbs one by one. You will die writhing on the ground like an insect, begging for mercy.”
The spear drew closer. Faced with the terror of death, the engineer stumbled back, his eyes trembling.
But he did not regret it.
The Military State, which had toppled the kingdom he wanted to chew up and spit out. That was why the engineer couldn't bring himself to hate the State, despite the great tragedy it had caused him. He had simply walked the Meta Conveyor Belt for nearly twenty years, his resentment festering.
And now, at the end of his life, the engineer had finally unleashed this hatred and rancor. The flames that had swirled inside him, directionless after their target had vanished, were now finally vented.
The old engineer had no regrets, even if he were to die now.
Not that he was going to die.
‘No! With the general away, there’s no one who can stop these rebels!’
Ah, and you too, Captain. Same goes for you. You wouldn't have died even if you had stepped up.
Why on earth would you think the general is away?
“First, the right arm.”
Sir Baltzroy’s spear moved. Just as I thought the tip had vibrated slightly, the spearhead had already shot out like a snake and reached the engineer’s body.
A swift and silent thrust, its beginning and end impossible to gauge.
“Yawn.”
And then. The spear was sent flying back.
Sir Baltzroy stumbled back, his grip torn open. He looked down at his hand with an expression of disbelief, then glared and aimed his spear in the direction the attack had come from.
“Who’s there?!”
“It’s me, you bastard.”
A presence emerged. The veil of Qi that had concealed his existence vanished, and he appeared as if a curtain had been drawn back.
The Military State’s greatest power, one of the Six Generals.
The one who had killed the most knights, the Knight of Treason, Patraxion, stood before the Resistance.