35. End of War (2)
35. End of War (2)
The southern wall overlooked the war situation on the central plain at a glance.
What was etched into the eyes of the Imperial soldiers who had retaken the wall were three disasters.
Three crimson storms that had stretched out simultaneously.
Disasters that swept across the ground, chewing up and swallowing the troops of the barbarian kingdom Pyneton.
It was clearly a disaster, but its essence was not a disaster.
A sword strike.
It was a strike of Sword Aura.
"Grand Marshal Yuma."
Heigelt, the Empire's 2nd Seat, who bore a long scar medal above his right eyebrow, laughed, his mouth opening wide enough to show his neat teeth.
"You are a genuine monster...!"
The entire Hallow Mercenary Corps, the Empire's strongest, led by the 2nd Seat, shuddered.
The members of the Dawn Revolutionary Group also stared at their leader, Commander Cassiela, with astonished faces.
After witnessing Yuma's martial prowess, they were beginning to understand why Cassiela had kept calling Yuma the hope of the Empire.
"As expected of Yuma...! He's my captain!"
The scarlet-haired Cat Tribe swordswoman's eyes shone.
The magical girl with black hair and golden eyes next to her silently made a resolution once again.
'I must not disappoint him...'
I needed to make sure he found me useful.
Cloné clenched her hands tightly.
***
"Grand Marshal of the Astes Empire, Yuma."
Yuma surveyed the warriors of the barbarian kingdom Pyneton who had laid down their arms.
The fighting spirit of nearly 30,000 warriors had been mostly shattered.
A very small number had not laid down their weapons. No, to be precise, they had not laid down their weapons in order to survive. Because this was clearly a battlefield, after all.
"I have no intention of carrying out any more slaughter."
The voice of the one who had killed the king echoed in the ears of the Pyneton warriors.
Yuma surveyed the battlefield landscape he had created.
In the place where the crimson storm had swept through, there were countless corpses.
Broken spears and swords were scattered about.
It certainly seemed far removed from the scenery a being with no further intention of slaughter would create.
But Yuma's heart was sincere.
Because he had killed Conqueror King Kamet, the one at the very top, in order to end this war.
Yuma moved his feet.
Jeobeok, jeobeok
He approached a giant Pyneton warrior who was kneeling.
Judging by the form of the armor he wore and the insignia draped over his shoulder, his outward rank appeared considerably high.
"Your position in Pyneton?"
Still kneeling, the warrior trembled. He lifted his head. He slowly opened his mouth.
"...I am Martes, the 4th Commander and a Great Warrior."
"Would that be considered a rank of Count or higher in the Empire?"
Martes's handsomely trimmed beard quivered.
"Yes, it is."
Yuma slowly nodded.
The barbarian kingdom was a nation of war maniacs. One could tell that just by looking at Conqueror King Kamet, who had just become a cold corpse.
The position of Great Warrior inevitably held high standing.
Yuma stared at Martes, who was still kneeling.
"It is sincere that I have no intention of carrying out more slaughter. I want to end this war as it is. It seems you can help me with that end."
Martes's gaze barely met Yuma's eyes.
"A-Are you appointing me as the negotiator in charge?"
Yuma met the eyes of the thoroughly frightened Martes.
"Yes, the Grand Marshal of the victorious Astes Empire has personally chosen you as the negotiator, so the other people of Pyneton won't be able to raise objections."
It was a just statement.
Martes gulped. Yuma continued.
"I'll arrange a place for the war reparations negotiations."
Yuma had no intention of sitting at a headache-inducing negotiation table for nothing.
"You'll give up some land. And we'll have to sign a non-aggression pact for several decades, but whatever the result, it will be better than shedding more blood."
Martes felt a tightening tension.
"There is only one thing I personally want from the barbarian kingdom."
After organizing his thoughts for a moment, Yuma continued.
"There is a destination I need to pass through Pyneton to reach. What I want is not to be disturbed in any way while heading there."
To be exact, he had business with the White Night Clan beyond the <Gelpiel Forest> at the edge of Pyneton, but there was no need to say that.
"Therefore, I need an oath that no one will touch me while I am stepping on your land."
Right after Yuma's words ended, Martes's gaze turned to Kamet's corpse.
"I shall swear the oath, of course, but there is a more certain proof than that."
"A certain proof?"
Martes slowly rose from his knees.
Since no fighting spirit was felt from Martes, Yuma simply watched his movements. Martes looked at Kamet's body, pressed his hands together briefly in prayer, then grabbed his back and turned him slightly.
Tuuk-
Martes pulled something from Kamet's back.
It was none other than a cloak. A blood-red cloak, the color of blood itself.
Martes held the obviously high-quality cloak of the Conqueror King in both hands. Then he knelt again and respectfully extended the cloak toward Yuma.
"Please accept this cloak. If you wear this king's cloak, no one living in the barbarian lands will dare think of touching you, Lord God of War."
A cloak made of lion hide.
The one who had felled Conqueror King Kamet on the battlefield.
From the moment Kamet departed this world, such meaning had been engraved upon this red cloak.
"Please, accept this cloak. Take the proof of the Conqueror."
His head was deeply bowed.
His hands were raised with utmost reverence.
The trembling of Martes's hands was felt in the flow of the cloak.
Yuma watched Martes carefully. He did not seem to be lying in this situation.
"Don't call me the God of War. Call me Yuma."
Yuma said that as he accepted the cloak.
And he roughly threw it over his shoulder. The red cloak fluttered on Yuma's shoulder.
The warriors of Pyneton who had only been kneeling bowed their heads at the sight of Yuma with the barbarian king's cloak fluttering. They placed both palms on the plain and assumed a worshiping posture.
"Glory... to the great warrior!"
One warrior in the front shouted in a highly agitated voice.
The words spread rapidly like a plague.
"Glory to the great warrior!!"
"Glory to the great God of War!!"
Extreme terror.
And a reverence stronger than that terror.
The barbarian warriors could not help but acknowledge the man who had killed Conqueror King Kamet, the one who had expanded their territory the widest, in a single blow.
They could only pay respect to the military force he had displayed.
Jeobeok, jeobeok
Yuma leisurely headed back to where the Imperial forces were.
"Marquis Tornel."
He approached Tornel, who was still slumped. Before even thinking of helping Tornel rise from his slumped state, Yuma bent down to meet his eye level.
And he said the same thing he had just told Martes.
That all he wanted was to pass through the barbarian kingdom without any interference.
"If I just get a proper oath on this, I have no intention of getting involved in the rest of the negotiations. I'll leave the battlefield cleanup to you, the original commander of the southern front."
The face of the man who had just moments ago single-handedly struck down the Conqueror King and slaughtered the elite units of the barbarian kingdom with disaster-like force was terribly serene.
As if the battle he had just fought was nothing at all.
"...Understood."
"Then I'll go rest a bit."
Tens of thousands of knights and soldiers stood at rigid attention, saluting Yuma.
Yuma simply walked among them with an impassive face.
'I was tired as hell.'
Yuma's whole body was screaming.
Of course, to others' eyes, he was merely walking with dignified steps.
"I'll help you."
The knight captain appeared beside Marquis Tornel.
"Forget it."
Cheolkeok!
Tornel, who shook his head, slowly stood up. It was not because he hadn't recovered from Kamet's attack that he hadn't risen.
He had been so shocked by the martial force Yuma had just displayed that he had not thought to stand.
Tornel, having composed his armaments, approached the Great Warrior Martes of the barbarian kingdom.
The knight captain quickly formed an escort.
The knight captain's dry lips parted.
"That the rumor of him killing a Black Dragon was not a hollow title... and that all the feats he has accomplished up to now were real."
Tornel kept silent and stood before Martes.
It was to immediately solidify just one negotiation, disregarding the others.
That Yuma would traverse the barbarian kingdom Pyneton without any interference.
He intended to conclude that clause discreetly and quickly, right here and now. Before others could intervene and rumors spread.
The God of War, Yuma.
'He cannot be opposed.'
He cannot be opposed.
Not ever.
'How great a blessing it is that he is moving for the Empire... the leadership busy with the war for the throne likely does not realize it yet.'
Tornel stood before Martes.
"Your name and position. I am Marquis Tornel."
The two commanders with handsomely grown mustaches began their conversation.
"4th Commander, Great Warrior Martes."
"Let's first properly sign just one treaty. After that, we'll set a precise appointment. By dawn tomorrow."
Martes slowly nodded.
"Understood."
Marquis Tornel had unknowingly become a loyal subordinate of Grand Marshal Yuma.