Chapter 225: War (2)
Chapter 225: War (2)
The Sky Empire.
A hegemon that claimed the entire Central Continent as its territory, it was the most powerful empire in existence. Today, this titan, which had not allowed an enemy incursion since the Age of War, suffered a staggering humiliation. Its subjects, long steeped in the complacency of peace, cried out in terror. Countless refugees flocked to Belhaven, the capital of the Sky Empire, their wails echoing through every corner of the city. Vagrants, a sight once unthinkable within the empire’s borders, were now easily found wandering the streets.
An empire of eternal prosperity.
A land of boundless abundance.
How could such a place harbor the displaced and the broken?
The Conquest Army of the Great Land carried out a brutal massacre, as if venting centuries of suppressed resentment. They were not alone; the Magic Corps that had joined them proved to be a lethal thorn in the empire's side. As the reputation of the "Greatest Empire" and the "Symbol of Peace" was dragged through the mud, the Sky Empire was forced to confront its own arrogance. They had never imagined those barbarians would dare to shatter the established order. They had not expected the Descendant of Khan to be so reckless, nor did they anticipate a war launched with such deliberate, surprise tactics that ignored all Continental Law.
They were savages, plain and simple.
The Sky Empire could no longer remain a bystander. The most powerful nation on the continent decided to take aggressive action. If these invaders were left unchecked, the dignity of the Sky Empire would hit rock bottom. Even if they eventually won, a pyrrhic victory would ensure that no one would ever look up to them again. What they needed was an "overwhelming victory so absolute that no one would ever dare challenge them again."
And the Sky Empire was more than capable of achieving exactly that.
The largest nation on the continent. A Great Empire with the most terrifying production capacity in the world. An invincible power that, excluding minor skirmishes, had never lost a single war in its entire history. The Great Empire of Velma intended to show the world exactly why it was called the "Sky Empire."
The Conquest Army of the Great Land had already occupied a city. No, "occupied" was the wrong word. They sowed only destruction and death. Under the absolute authority of the Descendant of Khan, the Conquest Army advanced without pause. They did not eat, they did not drink, and they did not sleep. There was no looting, nor were there the typical inhumane acts that usually accompany war. The Conquest Army was more like a natural disaster—a calamity that crushed everything in its path, burned it all to ash, and moved on.
To the Sky Empire, they were a breed of people that defied all logic.
Fundamentally, war is an act of gaining through victory. It is waged for land, resources, and manpower. In that sense, war is a "business." But what was the Conquest Army doing? What could they possibly gain from this? To the empire, it seemed the Conquest Army would find nothing but ruin at the end of this conflict. For what purpose, then, were they charging forward like demons?
Whether it made sense or not, it was too late.
The signal fire of war had been lit. Once started, it could not be stopped, no matter the outcome.
As the allied forces of the Great Land of the East and the ruined Machine Empire Laprien advanced, laying waste to the Sky Empire's outlying cities, the empire dispatched its own Heavenly Legion. This was the army that had protected the empire throughout its long history. Along with them, the aerial fortress "Heaven"—the very symbol of the Sky Empire—the powerful wizards of the Magic City Oz, and every ounce of military might the empire possessed began to stir. Their destinations: the Eastern and Western fronts.
The Conquest Army of the Great Land had landed on the Central Continent with the help of dragons. However, the soldiers who had landed were not the entirety of their forces. The total scale of the Conquest Army was massive enough to rival the military might of the Sky Empire itself. Nearly half of the warriors of the plains remained at the edge of the Eastern Continent, waiting for their Monarch to open the gates. If the landed Conquest Army managed to destroy the eastern part of the Central Continent and rendezvous with them, the consequences would be catastrophic.
And what of the West?
The situation was equally dire. The Conquest Army was an alliance between the Machine Empire and the Great Land. If they occupied the Machine Empire located to the west of the Sky Empire and regrouped the decimated Magic Corps to strike, the situation would become impossibly complex. The Sky Empire would find itself forced to maintain three fronts simultaneously—the Magic Corps in the east, the Great Land in the west, and the allied forces already deep within their borders.
Ultimately, the best course of action for the Sky Empire was to stabilize the internal situation, reorganize quickly, and hold the front lines with stubborn resolve. Then, the moment their preparations were complete, they would exact thorough retribution.
The easiest way to ensure victory was simple: obtain the help of the Iron Kingdom, which had recently joined the ranks of the Great Powers. If they sent the Steel Legion to bolster the defenses of the Machine Empire and dispatched reinforcements from the west to repel the landed allied forces, the situation would be resolved in no time. However, no matter how many times the Sky Empire reached out, the Iron Kingdom remained silent.
Were they planning to exploit the chaos? Did they expect the Sky Empire to fall under the combined assault of two empires? Whatever the case, the Sky Empire did not view the Iron Kingdom kindly. If they continued to ignore the summons, the Iron Kingdom would face thorough retaliation once the Sky Empire successfully concluded the war in the Heavenly Way.
The chaotic armies of the Sky Empire pursued and clashed with the savage Conquest Army. As fierce engagements broke out incessantly, the other Great Powers sent support. The Armand Alliance dispatched a multi-racial mercenary legion, and the Black Archipelago sent an enormous amount of supplies and troops. Unusually, the Black Archipelago did not attach any "conditions" this time. The Masters of Gold, who always moved with cold logic, were moved by emotion instead.
The pathetic death of the youngest. A fight to collect the price of blood. The Sky Empire welcomed the active assistance of one of the Great Families.
While the entire continent was being sucked into a whirlpool... time continued to flow, regardless of how the world surged.
Arhan Caravan's time.
The time his enemy had granted him... was slowly coming to an end.
Arhan turned seventeen in the Southern Continent. Soon, his birthday would arrive. Once it passed, he would be eighteen. And after the final day of his eighteenth year, Swordmaster Carlos would no longer show mercy to the nineteen-year-old Arhan Caravan.
* * *
Match was a peculiar blade.
When I first chewed and swallowed that edge, I was met with a dark world. It felt as though that darkness was made of ice—a chill that seemed to seep into my very bones. Within that coldness, I felt an unbearable loneliness, as if I had been left entirely alone in the universe.
『I heard that a falling meteor means someone has died.』
The dark world.
Within that void, a light flickered to life with a sharp scritch.
『Then, does it mean someone is dying every time a star falls from the dark night sky?』
『I thought to myself.』
『That I hope a star falls when I die, too.』
『I hope a magnificent meteor shower pours down.』
The source of the light was close. In the darkness stood a small boy. He held a worn sword and a single match. Shivering, the boy struck the match to create a flame and ward off the cold. Whenever the small match flared, the chill vanished. It was as if winter had passed and summer had briefly arrived.
『Because then, you will watch my death, too.』
『Because only then will you finally look at me.』
Watching the light of the match, the boy smiled for a moment. But as the ember died out, his smile vanished with it. In the darkness, another scritch sounded, and a match was lit.
When the next flame flared, the boy had become a young man. He sat with hollow eyes, and the sword in his hand was even more worn. Only a few matches remained in the box. Yet, the young man struck one without hesitation, a faint smile playing on his lips—as if it were the only joy left in this world.
The match soon went out.
Scritch.
When the next match was lit, the young man had aged further. The man, appearing to be in his late thirties—somewhere between youth and middle age—had died by hanging himself. He had plunged the sword in his hand into his own chest. A death of his own choosing. Not a single match remained in the box.
And behind the dead man, who hung with his tongue protruding, stood an old man who resembled a lion. The old man said something as he looked at the younger man, but I couldn't hear what it was. No sound reached me, as if I were underwater.
With that scene, I was banished from the world of the sword. When I opened my eyes, Leon Caravan stood before me. A desolate, haggard man.
"There is no enlightenment contained within my sword. My blade holds only hatred for my father, resentment, and rage toward the terrible Caravan bloodline. It contains none of the noble legends or heroic tales you have devoured thus far."
"..."
"I became a Swordmaster through those negative emotions alone, child."
Leon Caravan looked at me.
"Your vessel is too small to accept the whole of my soul. And is it just the vessel? You have yet to meet the qualifications. Nevertheless, you said you could accept me."
"I can do it."
"Anyone can talk a big game."
His voice was like a sheet of ice.
"Paltry Caravan. I will give you a choice."
"A choice?"
"This Golden Treasury is currently collapsing."
The Golden Treasury was collapsing?
"Of course, even if it collapses completely, this small world created in the cracks of reality will be safe for the next hundred years. However, the place maintaining this exterior will not. The dwarves who sent you here are dying. And their kingdom is falling."
"..."
"You can ignore their plight and focus entirely on digesting the sword here. Since this Golden Treasury is a world of swords, the speed of soul absorption will be much faster, and the process will be easier than in the middle world. You will also be safe from the dangers outside. By the time you digest the sword and leave, the unknown danger will likely have passed."
"What is the other choice?"
"Being a meddler."
Leon Caravan's eyes flashed.
"Leaving this place right now to save the Dwarf Kingdom. If you do that, you will lose all the opportunities you could have gained in the Golden Treasury. You won't be able to seek advice from other ancestors, nor will you be able to obtain other armaments. It is not just the swords of the Caravans that exist in the Golden Treasury; this place is filled with the treasures of the ages. If you leave, you can never return. Because you have already put the most valuable thing in your mouth."
"..."
"Furthermore, if the enemy is a threat to an entire kingdom, there is no guarantee that your presence will solve anything. You might fail to save the Dwarf Kingdom, lose this golden opportunity, and even put your own life at risk. What will you do, Caravan?"
Leon Caravan continued to stare at me. Intently.
I answered without a moment's hesitation.
"How do I get out?"
It wasn't even worth considering. At my immediate response, Leon Caravan was momentarily lost for words.
And then...
"You are similar, yet different after all."
"..."
"You are certainly different from that man."
Leon Caravan smiled for the first time.