Chapter 337
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 337
Chapter Title: No Need to Worry About That, Right?
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North Africa was an utterly desolate and barren land, almost entirely swallowed by the Sahara Desert.
Yet the northern region was the object of envy across Africa for one reason: a single nation existed there.
It was the second oldest kingdom after the Fairy Kingdom.
Africa's mightiest power.
The only lush, verdant land amid the endless deserts of the north.
Egypt.
"Waaaaah!"
And at this very moment, Egypt's capital, Cairo, was in a festive uproar.
No, it wasn't just the atmosphere—an actual celebration was underway.
In this Africa where war was daily life, no festival outshone a triumph.
And the grander the victory, the more spectacular the event. This triumph was on a scale unprecedented in history.
They had conquered a third of the continent.
Toppled the Summon Lord.
Through these feats, Egypt had truly become Africa's overlord.
Thus, Cairo's citizens lined the streets in droves, cheering wildly for the Egyptian army returning proudly from the conquest.
"Look, it's the 1st Legion!"
"They occupied twelve whole countries this time, right?"
"The 4th Legion's even more impressive. They took the impregnable Motora Oasis in just two days."
"There, the 7th Legion!"
"Oh! It's the 7th Legion Commander, the Widow-Maker!"
Every time a new legion appeared, the crowds erupted in cheers, showering petals from baskets they'd prepared.
The parading legions responded by tossing looted gold and jewels from the occupied territories amid the fluttering petals.
The baskets, once filled with flowers, now brimmed with heavy, glittering treasures.
The citizens' cheers and smiles grew ever more fervent.
It was a sight unique to Egypt, Africa's storied military powerhouse.
The cheers peaked when the last procession appeared, after all ten legions had passed.
"Apophis! It's Apophis Mercenary Corps!"
"Egypt's greatest warriors!"
Distinct from the Egyptian army uniforms.
Armed with spears, swords, and more.
Brown skin etched with tattoos.
They stood out from every other legion, and the citizens welcomed them with unmatched fervor.
In this Africa, power was everything.
The Red Dragon Clan's warriors, long hailed as the world's top mercenaries, were idols to the Egyptians.
"...!"
But then, all cheers vanished.
A jeep crept slowly behind the Red Dragon procession.
On its back seat sat a beauty in military garb, her fiery red hair blazing like flames.
Unlike the triumph's star, she didn't rise from her seat or wave to the crowd.
She merely smoked silently, arms crossed.
Yet spotting her alone hushed the masses.
Apophis's Chairwoman.
Red Dragon Clan's princess.
Africa's Tyrant.
Many titles she bore, and by slaying the Summon Lord, she'd proven herself Africa's absolute ruler—a superhuman.
Hasneti III commanded awe by her mere presence.
"...Victory and glory to the Pharaoh."
But that awe broke in an instant.
As someone murmured with a trembling voice, all who had watched her in silence stomped and echoed the cry.
Thud, thud!
"Victory and glory to the Pharaoh!"
It was only the beginning.
Everyone who had come to see the triumph without glimpsing Hasneti yet.
The ten legions marching alongside.
The soldiers guarding the procession.
Even citizens watching on TV from homes or workplaces.
All of Cairo united, stomping the earth and roaring till their throats tore.
BOOM!
"Victory and glory to the Pharaoh!!!"
It was pure conflagration.
Like a single spark igniting dry leaves, then a forest, then the entire continent to ash.
The embers spread person to person, engulfing Cairo in shouts and frenzy.
Tyrant?
Always waging war?
None of that mattered to them.
This was Africa.
Strength alone was reason enough for praise, and she was their Pharaoh.
Especially the sight beside Hasneti in the jeep's back seat—her plundered trophy—fueled their frenzy further.
"..."
Yet Hasneti took no joy in their reverent praise.
She gazed coldly, then removed her beret and placed it on the trophy beside her.
As her unveiled face drew even louder cheers,
the Red Dragon warriors escorting the jeep sprang into action.
They unceremoniously dumped military gear and duffels from the ten trucks trailing behind.
As the bags hit the ground amid the crowd and burst open,
whoosh!
"Whoaaa!"
"Long live the Pharaoh!"
The wealth spilled exceeded all the gold and jewels from the ten legions combined.
Citizens scrambled wildly to snatch coins, jewels, and bundles of cash—not from cheers now, but greed.
Long after Hasneti's jeep passed.
Thus, they failed to notice.
Her seated trophy—the golden-haired, tanned boy—had pulled the beret low over his face and let out a soft sigh.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Is your body feeling any better...?"
"It's fine."
"Yes, of course it is."
Whether from frantic preparations for today's triumph, leaving no time to breathe,
or from prior events,
a girl in loose fatigues approached, her face weary with fatigue, and offered a tray.
"Here, have some."
"No need."
"Eat it anyway. If you don't, I'll have to toss this precious Green Dragon Clan medicine."
Hasneti eyed the murky, bubbling decoction on the tray for a moment.
Then she grabbed it and downed it in one gulp.
The perfect burn for the throat.
True to the Red Dragon Princess, she didn't flinch, slamming the empty bowl down.
"That enough?"
"No, you'll need to take it steadily for at least a month."
"I said I'm fine."
"Even if you are, rest up and recover your strength for a while. What if you push too hard and ruin your health?"
Nadia persisted stubbornly.
Hasneti would heed her on other matters, but not this time.
Hasneti had used Dragonization.
Normally, it risked shortening life or leaving disabilities—a dire act.
Even minimized with Red Dragon support, the burden had caused internal injuries.
The Red Dragon aides who assisted lay bedridden, missing the triumph as proof.
As her close aide, Nadia had the duty and right to force Hasneti to recuperate.
"...No need to push anymore anyway."
"Yes, that's a relief at least."
Knowing this, Nadia sighed at Hasneti's reluctant admission.
Dragonization was a last resort for facing Sword Masters, given its risks.
Yet Hasneti had planned the raid around it, her will ironclad to end everything in this battle.
She had slain the Summon Lord and massacred Utopia summons—half her goal achieved.
One problem remained.
It was exactly half.
"But Princess, why spare the occupation governors there?"
That was why Nadia sighed.
They'd infiltrated using spy intel on Utopia's banquet.
Worked day and night for the raid's success.
Yet half the goal failed, and she halted the war besides.
It baffled Nadia.
"You know why."
"Because of that side consort you took?"
"Yes."
"That makes it even harder to understand."
Nadia scratched her head.
Even if that boy—Rimor or whatever—inherited Egyptian royal blood, nobles like him abounded.
No reason for Hasneti to halt a war for one boy's plea.
The only possibility: Hasneti deemed his sculptures worth it.
"If you wanted sculptures, just capture him and order them."
"What if he won't obey?"
"Torture or whipping..."
"Can you guarantee forced work matches voluntary offerings?"
"..."
No guarantee.
Even simple tasks varied wildly in quality and efficiency between coercion and pay.
Forcing delicate sculpture? Predictably poor.
Brainwashing education might improve it, but Hasneti wouldn't settle for that.
"Are his sculptures that valuable?"
"They are."
"If you say so, Princess... nothing to be done."
Nadia relented.
In the Seven Dragon Society, the princess's word was absolute.
Besides, changing course now couldn't undo what was done.
"Then treat him well."
"Don't worry. I've ordered near-prince consort treatment."
Nadia replied lightly, then added as if it just occurred.
"Still, unexpected. Never thought you'd take a boy like that as side consort, even for pretext."
"..."
"I know you'll discard him once you get the Sword Duke as your prince consort."
Still, as noble royal blood, she'd ensure he lived well post-dismissal.
Hasneti eyed Nadia wistfully and rasped,
"Sounds like the investigation's done."
"Yes? Oh, confirmed he's from a fallen family that emigrated abroad."
"No issues?"
"None."
Busy with war's end, verification took time.
But birth records, education, and subsequent traces were triple-checked. No worries about Rimor.
Faking all that and witnesses? Impossible save for master con artists.
Thus, Nadia said calmly,
"Only issue: he was once the lover of that 'Eastern Outlaw' woman... Well, a previous girl? No need to worry about that, right."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Pat pat.
A black-haired girl in pajamas.
Li Chingwei poured coffee she'd brewed herself into a cup.
She savored the rich aroma, then sipped and finally spoke.
"Well then, shall we get to the story?"
She ignored her guest—no coffee, not even water.
No need to entertain an uninvited midnight intruder.
Especially for another reason.
"Can you explain why this happened in a way I'll accept?"
She pointed to an Egyptian newspaper on the table.
Its front page dominated by a massive photo of Hasneti and the golden-haired, tanned boy beside her, face hidden by a beret.
Li Chingwei looked up.
At the silent guest opposite—unusually weary, unlike her usual poise—and smiled faintly.
"If you sold the Sword Duke to Hasneti, Rose, I'll have to kill you and her."