Chapter 220: Golden Treasury (1)
Chapter 220: Golden Treasury (1)
The Great Powers of the continent.
These were the mighty nations born under the new order proclaimed by the Sky Empire after the era of war finally drew to a close. Beneath the absolute hegemony of the Sky Empire, three representative Great Powers stood tall.
The master of the seas, the Black Archipelago.
The bastion of liberty, the Six Free Cities.
The multi-racial coalition, the Armand Alliance.
These three powers maintained a delicate balance while driving the global economy. The Black Archipelago controlled the continent's wealth through the 'Red Bank,' while the Six Free Cities evolved into a massive trading powerhouse by leveraging their abundant resources and central trade routes.
And the Armand Alliance?
"So, the Dragons have finally made their move."
The business that had elevated them to the status of a 'Great Power' was singular in nature.
"Is it time for us to take the stage?"
"In the end, even the Sky Empire will have no choice but to call upon us. The true terror of the Empire stems from its overwhelming production capacity—endless food, inexhaustible supplies. Anyone who faces them ends up thinking the same thing: 'Can these bastards fight this war forever?'"
"Indeed. They will eventually come looking for us. The Empire's army has grown soft in this long era of peace; they have surely regressed from their glorious past. No other nation possesses as much 'immediately deployable force' as we do."
Mercenaries.
"Gather the racial representatives."
The multi-racial coalition.
The Armand Alliance was a collective that commanded the world's strongest 'mercenaries.'
"What should we do about the Orcs?"
"Gather them if you can."
"……Should I contact her?"
Her.
The moment those words were uttered, the room went cold.
After a brief, heavy silence, the leaders shook their heads in unison.
"No. She is not an Orc who listens to reason, let alone to us."
"Of course, if she lent her strength, she would be an incomparable asset, but……."
"She is far too dangerous."
After a long, weary exhale, a conclusion was reached.
"Do not call her."
"Understood. We will exclude the Green War God, Sherizik."
* * *
The Caravan Fief.
Even this land on the outskirts of the Iron Kingdom could not escape the encroaching shadow of chaos.
"Are we going to be conscripted too?"
"It’ll be fine. Didn't that wealthy young man, Young Master Zeppelin, say so before he left? He promised he would protect this place even if he had to turn it into an independent city-state."
"But still..."
"Besides, don't we have a Great Witch in our fief, and a reliable Orc warrior as well? There’s truly nothing to fear."
The world was in turmoil.
It was a deep, unsettling unrest.
Young Master Arhan, where on earth have you gone?
Tom stood in the center of the village, feeling a stifling sense of frustration. Now just an ordinary old man, Tom felt his own helplessness keenly. In his youth, he would have stepped forward with a sword in hand, but now he was merely an elder who would be a hindrance on the battlefield. The people tried their best to stay optimistic, but in Tom's eyes, the Caravan Fief was far from safe.
The vortex is spinning too violently.
The descendants of Khan.
The demons roaming the plains.
The Dragons.
These were enemies that transcended common sense.
They were beings the current Caravan Fief could never hope to withstand. If even the outer edge of that vortex brushed this place, the fief would be annihilated. They needed Arhan. Or at least someone of his caliber…….
And then.
"The mercenary company from the Black Archipelago!"
The mercenaries who had been assisting the residents with their labor and those standing guard all turned their heads in unison.
Their gaze fixed on the entrance of the Caravan Fief.
"Assemble! To the entrance, now!"
A powerful voice thundered across the grounds.
With that command, every single mercenary from the Black Archipelago dashed toward the gates. The residents stood dazed, watching the sudden, swift movement. What was happening? Had an enemy appeared?
"Greetings, Master!"
It wasn't an enemy.
What kind of mercenary would offer such a sharp, disciplined salute to a foe? The residents were baffled. These men looked more like soldiers of a strictly disciplined regular army than a band of sellswords. As far as the common folk knew, mercenaries never displayed such rigorous order…….
"……Must you make such a scene?"
"But—"
"You are currently posing as a mercenary."
"But, because the Youngest Master is currently absent! I felt it necessary to show proper etiquette! If I have offended you, I apologize—!"
The voice boomed with authority.
Soon.
"Is this the only time you act with any competence?"
"Pardon?"
Slap—!
A sharp, violent crack echoed.
With a heavy thud, the mercenary was sent tumbling through the air. As a cloud of dust rose, the sound of someone spitting followed. As the haze cleared, hair and eyes sparkling with a brilliant golden hue became visible. Seeing that golden hair, the residents of the Caravan Fief thought for a split second that Zeppelin Gold had returned.
But this was different.
Zeppelin Gold had a gentle, soft impression.
But the man before them? Though he shared a resemblance with Zeppelin, his aura was entirely different. He looked prickly, sharp, and high-strung. He was also much older. If Zeppelin Gold was a young man brimming with boyish charm, this man looked like a middle-aged veteran worn down by life, with all traces of youth long since vanished.
"The important thing isn't performing empty manners. It's executing your assigned task correctly and producing results. That is your sole duty, you dog of the Black Archipelago."
The man took a cigar from his coat and bit down on it.
Immediately, a man with a pitch-black physique appeared from his shadow and provided a light. With a flick, a cloud of pale smoke drifted into the air. With the cigar clamped between his teeth, the man scanned the interior of the Caravan Fief.
"The Matriarch told me to return to the Black Archipelago, but how could I simply leave? Even if I must face punishment later, I must see the last traces of you, my foolish youngest brother."
The man muttered, suppressing a surge of rising anger.
The youngest. Traces of the one he called his youngest brother were everywhere. Ledger entries in Zeppelin Gold's handwriting, people whispering his name with affection. Examining these traces one by one, the man—the eldest son of the Gold family, Sherpa Gold—puffed heavily on his cigar.
"You pathetic fool. You absolute, miserable fool. Why was a scrap of land like this so important to you? Why were these insignificant people worth so much? You should have set sail and fled. You should have sent a proxy to manage it, or begged for your life using the family name. You wretched brat……."
Sherpa Gold looked at the residents.
They were all staring at him with innocent, frightened eyes. Sherpa Gold felt a surge of resentment toward them. If they hadn't existed, if this fief hadn't existed in the first place, his brother wouldn't have died so miserably. That coward—the one who would cry and make a fuss if he just nicked his finger while cooking. How agonizing must it have been to have his body and soul torn apart?
The mere thought caused an unbearable rage to flare within him.
However, he could not vent his misplaced anger on these people. He could tell just by looking at the surroundings—Zeppelin Gold had truly loved this place. He had poured his heart into it. Perhaps he had received the recognition here that he never found in the Black Archipelago. The praise Sherpa Gold had withheld, thinking it would make his brother strong and independent; the affectionate words he had intended to say one day—Zeppelin had left this world without hearing any of it.
A tangle of complex emotions swirled within him.
But Sherpa Gold was a man of his house.
A man in whom the blood of 'Gold' ran thicker than that of 'Sherpa.'
And for a 'Gold,' cold, golden blood must always flow.
"Zeppelin Gold, who was in charge of the investment here, is dead."
At the word 'dead,' the residents' eyes wavered with shock.
"From now on, I will be handling the business Zeppelin Gold was conducting. You have no need to worry. The investment will continue; the only thing that has changed is the person in charge. I have come to announce that fact, and also to verify one thing."
Sherpa Gold's eyes gleamed with a sharp light.
"I will see for myself what value exists in this fief that my youngest brother cared for so much. I will verify if this land is truly worth the investment, and if this 'Caravan Fief' can survive the coming war."
Sherpa Gold respected his brother's final wishes.
Therefore, if he found that the Caravan Fief—which Zeppelin Gold had intended to use as the foundation for his success—was a land that could not be defended, he planned to at least save the people here for his brother's sake. Judging by the reactions of the people who heard of Zeppelin's death, the youngest of the Gold family had been truly loved here. Sincere grief radiated from the crowd.
Sherpa Gold would at least take care of those who had shown affection to his departed brother. If you receive, you give back. That was the Rule of Gold.
Then, Tom spoke up.
"How do you intend to verify that?"
"I will check if the forces here, including the mercenary company from the Black Archipelago, are at a level that can withstand the Conquest Army of the Great Land."
"……."
"Listen, everyone. The Conquest Army of the Great Land has crossed over from the Eastern Continent. They destroyed our Black Archipelago fleet and will soon invade the Central Continent. And what is the most appetizing prey for a Conquest Army looking to burn the Sky Empire? A nation that is easy to invade by land and convenient for establishing a forward base. The Iron Kingdom, Chervil."
Sherpa Gold glanced at the residents again.
"If I judge that this place cannot be defended, I will recover the assets my brother invested. Of course, I will guarantee your safety. You will all be transported to the Black Archipelago aboard our fleet. Since you were my brother's people, I will take responsibility for you until the end."
"We can't do that. We can't leave the fief—"
"—Isn't leaving better than dying?"
Don't you understand, even after seeing my brother's end?
Sherpa Gold barely swallowed the rest of his words.
Since entering this place, no matter how much Sherpa Gold looked, he couldn't find any 'usable combat power.' The scale was that of a small city, but the troops were strangely few. Even a village-sized fief usually had basic forces, but here, there were only old people and farmers.
And then.
"How will you make your judgment?"
An Orc slowly walked forward.
"I will judge with my own eyes and my intuition."
"Does the method not matter?"
"It does not."
A massive glaive was gripped in the Orc's hand.
"I am the daughter of the Great Star Guide, the Orc Sherizik."
She slowly raised her weapon, the blade gleaming.
"I will prove it through a duel. The fact that this fief is safe."
* * *
The Dwarf Kingdom was in a near-festive mood.
It was only natural.
The Dragons had launched a surprise attack, looking down on the Dwarves, only for a single hero to cut them all down in one stroke and annihilate the enemy. The citizens of the Dwarf Kingdom had seen the spectacle that unfolded in the sky with their own eyes. That thrill would not be forgotten for a long time.
"It is here."
However, there were those who did not participate in the endless festival.
Those who had work to do.
"Descendant of Steel."
No, perhaps it was wrong to say they weren't participating?
"This is the Golden Treasury, Descendant of Steel."
Because for me, this place is the festival.
* * *
[The Steel Blood hungers.]
[Consume new swords.]
.
.
.
[Choose the new swords to consume carefully.]
[Three steps remain until the realm of 'Transcendence.']