Chapter 233: New Era (4)
Chapter 233: New Era (4)
“Madmen.”
Madmen—that was the only assessment the Magic Corps of the Machine Empire had for the ‘Great Land.’
“How on earth did these bastards conquer the Eastern Continent acting like this?”
It was a sincere question.
Josef, Master of the Magic Corps, had witnessed the insane conduct of the ‘Conquest Army’ throughout the ongoing war since arriving on the Central Continent. The Conquest Army of the Great Land was an excessively inefficient organization. Their numbers were overwhelming, yet they ignored even the most basic principles of warfare. They didn't plan routes when moving their massive divisions, they didn't establish specific operational tactics, and their logistics and administration were riddled with holes.
Rather than a disciplined military, they were more like a pack of beasts.
No, they were worse than beasts.
A pack of beasts at least bites its prey to fill its belly. But the Conquest Army, after occupying prosperous cities, made no attempt to fortify or utilize them; they simply indulged in mindless slaughter and destruction. Master Josef could not fathom it. He could understand a massacre as a means to suppress resistance and crush public sentiment, but this crossed a line. As if they harbored a deep-seated hatred for the living, the Conquest Army of the Great Land killed everything that breathed. They were like the undead of the Northern Continent, driven by a primal loathing for life.
If they continued the war this way, they would inevitably lose.
War, after all, was a game of endurance.
It was a battle of who could hold out longer and who could bite harder. Unless an asymmetric force like a Swordmaster stepped in, a war was bound to be prolonged. And while it would be one thing if only one side had a Swordmaster, if the other side possessed one as well, the ‘Swordmaster’ card became unplayable.
If Swordmasters crossed blades until the bitter end, both would eventually undergo Ascension according to the laws of nature, regardless of who won. The most powerful weapon is at its most potent when it remains sheathed. The Swordmaster of House 「Sky」 was the guardian of the empire. Until he stepped forward, the Descendant of Khan could not act aggressively. Never.
‘They occupy a place only to burn it all down. They don’t even pillage. They don’t use empty houses as quarters. They turn these luxurious homes into ash and then pitch tents or sleep in the streets. What kind of inefficient, barbaric….’
It was like watching an army from a bygone era.
Of course, their combat prowess was phenomenal enough to overshadow all those flaws. They were warriors so powerful it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they were born for battle. They possessed a valor that drove them to charge without fear of death. Furthermore, the ‘strategies’ and ‘tactics’ they used to dismantle the enemy were surprisingly brilliant. It was as if they were beings created solely for war.
However, this was a war, not just a battle.
It might work in small-scale skirmishes, but in a large-scale war, this approach was far from ideal. Thus, Master Josef offered his opinion to the Descendant of Khan. He suggested they needed to fight more wisely. Since the enemy had built a fortress and shifted to a defensive strategy, the Conquest Army needed to properly secure occupied territories and use the prosperous cities as bases.
But the Descendant of Khan did not agree. Was it out of pride?
“We will lose if this becomes a war of attrition.”
It wasn't that.
“The Sky Empire is far more powerful than the Great Land. If their legions—which possess the treasures and gathered technologies of every continent—truly mobilize, we will be pushed back. Do you know why we hold the upper hand right now?”
“Pardon? Well…”
“The Sky Empire is too powerful and has enjoyed peace for too long. Because of that, the Empire’s opinions cannot be unified quickly or decisively. They take victory in this war for granted, so they are aiming for a ‘certain victory without loss’ rather than just any victory.”
“……”
“The sages of the Sky Empire are marvelously wise. But because they are too wise, their opinions never align. Their decisions are only made after endless debate and consultation. In contrast, what of the Great Land? They are a beast with many heads; we have only one.”
The Descendant of Khan was no fool.
“With this raid, the symbolism of the Sky Empire, which enjoyed eternal peace, has been shattered. While they are busy deliberating, other variables will arise. There will be those who seek to tear flesh from the greatest empire, and those who wish to see it fall.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because the Dragons came to us.”
The Descendant of Khan was not merely charging forward blindly.
“A being capable of moving Dragons is watching for an opportunity. The moment we open a single window of chance, a third force will shake the Empire. Then, we will bring the Great Army from the Eastern Continent and turn the tide. Once we rendezvous with the eastern forces, our resources will be far from lacking; they will be plentiful enough to face the Sky Empire in a war of attrition. O defeated soldier of a fallen empire, we have prepared for this war far longer than you think.”
A God of War had descended to earth.
That nickname wasn't given simply because his personal combat ability was exceptional.
“Even assuming you are correct, there is a problem.”
“What problem?”
“We don't know the objective of this third force. If they intend to snatch everything—both the Sky Empire and what we hold—while we are busy stirring up the Empire…”
“It doesn't matter.”
The Descendant of Khan looked at Master Josef.
“If they come late to swallow everything, the Conquest Army will have already burned the Central Continent to nothing. If they intervene midway, they will be swept up in the tide of the Conquest Army and dragged down to hell along with the rest.”
“……”
“O defeated magician, do not worry about failure already.”
The Sky Empire was an empire that had conquered a continent.
And.
“The Great Land has not yet revealed all the weapons it possesses.”
The Great Land was also an empire that had already conquered a continent.
It was an empire with a history incomparable to the ‘Machine Empire,’ which had lived on a small patch of land. The Descendant of Khan spoke while staring at Master Josef.
“What the Great Land possesses is far more powerful and vicious than you can imagine, magician. We have destroyed more than ten nations of a size similar to your fallen country, and more than five nations incomparably larger. And whenever a war of conquest broke out to cause such ruin, countless people said the same thing you just did. That such a war could never succeed.”
“……”
“It’s quite funny.”
Josef saw a deep darkness within the eyes of the Descendant of Khan.
An abyss he couldn't even begin to imagine.
“Who dares to discuss war in my presence?”
The God of War.
No, war personified stood there.
The most horrific violence among the ‘phenomena’ created by the sentient beings of the continent—incomprehensible and beyond common sense.
Master Josef, overwhelmed by the aura, fled outside as if escaping.
Two hours later, he met a guest who had come to the ash-covered city. A guest with clothes woven from grass, pointed ears, and a beauty that could enchant anyone. The residents of the Great Forest, the Elves, had come to find the Conquest Army Alliance.
“……Deliver these words to the Descendant of Khan.”
They stood holding bows and spears.
“The sons and daughters of the World Tree shall join this army of demons to sing the Forest’s Wrath.”
It had happened.
The variable.
* * *
The Central Continent became a theater of chaos.
The remnants of the Machine Empire and the Conquest Army of the Great Land.
The Elves of the Great Forest joined the alliance of these two forces. While these three forces formed a coalition, the Sky Empire side also established an alliance. The forces of the Black Archipelago and the Armand Alliance joined the Sky Empire. The former Alliance of Great Powers and the Conquest Alliance. As the two massive coalitions prepared for war with the entire continent as their stage, the Seven Races were also gathering.
Humans.
The Beastfolk and Orcs belonging to the Armand Alliance.
The Elves, who declared their participation while harboring deep resentment.
The Dragons, who had revealed themselves to the world.
“We must prepare as well. Steel is tempered by the hammer. The Descendant of Steel will be drawn into this war whether he likes it or not. Then, we must stand by Steel’s side.”
To repay the debt to Arhan Caravan.
The Dwarves prepared to emerge onto the surface.
Watching their movements, a man smiled.
“The fairies have been properly provoked.”
Ian Chervil.
“Dragon Charlotte—that lizard finally succeeded.”
“It appears so.”
“It differed from the original plan, but the result is the same.”
Ian Chervil muttered while holding a chess piece.
The initial plan was for the great ‘Red Dragon’ Balakar, brought in by Dragon Charlotte, to burn the Great Forest and turn the World Tree to ash. If the World Tree vanished, the fairies would lose their home, and without the World Tree, no new Elf infants would be born. Whether to ensure the survival of their race or to reclaim their symbol, they would have no choice but to act.
The enraged fairies would speculate as to why the Dragons did such a thing, and Ian Chervil intended to interfere in that process to subtly direct their arrows of rage toward the Empire. He had plenty of ammunition.
To maintain dominance over the Elves while giving up the Great Forest, the Sky Empire still kept the ‘World Tree Seed’—seized during the Age of War—within the Imperial Palace. Ian Chervil intended to exploit the relationship between the two powers to make the Elves join the Great Land’s side.
However, with the death of the Red Dragon, that task fell to Dragon Charlotte. A mere keeper dragon. Yet, Dragon Charlotte had performed her duty successfully. The World Tree burned, the Elves were led to believe it was the Sky Empire’s doing, and to resurrect the World Tree by planting the seed, the fairies sided with the Great Land.
Subtle estrangement wasn't even necessary in that process.
Because.
“Karma.”
Even during the Age of War, the Sky Empire had committed similar acts.
“They are simply getting back what they gave.”
To establish a relationship with the prosperous Elves. To effectively manage the Great Forest while keeping it under the Empire’s jurisdiction. To ensure the fairies would never dare defy them. The Sky Empire had burned the World Tree in the past as well.
And not just once.
The Sky Empire had burned the World Tree twice. To make the Elves unable to resist them. And to create a ‘perfect empire’ when they first unified the Central Continent and founded the Sky Empire. The karma accrued by the Sky Empire had been erased from history. To spread the word of this forgotten history, a few Elves would occasionally come out to campaign for rights—urging people to remember the true history, stop the distortion of facts, and return the World Tree Seed. But the Sky Empire never listened.
They simply crushed them.
Just as they had erased the history of the Caravan in the distant past using the ‘Sword of the Sky.’
In the exact same way.
The way they did best.
The Heavenly Way.
“The most steadfast and solid empire shall fall by receiving the consequences of its own sins. Just as you wished, Carlos.”
“……”
“Soon, it will be complete. The world I desired. And the world you also desired.”
Ian Chervil chuckled.
He looked down at the table.
Ian Chervil placed a Knight with a clack. Next, he moved a Rook. The Knight was the Elves, the Rook was the Allied Forces. Those fools would fulfill their roles faithfully without even knowing they were chess pieces. Chess pieces never know they are chess pieces. Is that all? They don't even realize their stage is a game board. That is something only the players know.
“And the demons?”
“They have been broken. They will follow whatever orders you give.”
“Good.”
The noble Nobles of the Night.
The demons, burdened with their sacred duty, had their spirits shattered by the most powerful Swordmaster. Now, their pride was gone. The demons had been reduced to dogs that would do anything at Ian Chervil’s command. And they would become a very useful hand. Within the chaotic Sky Empire, they would act as true ‘demons,’ manipulating public opinion and sowing even greater discord.
The demons calling for ‘hell’ from the shadows would sow seeds of doubt within the Empire every time night fell. Under Ian Chervil’s grasp, the sages of the Sky Empire would suspect one another, and their political cohesion would weaken. The Empire, which moved under a tiny number of elites, sages, and a single Emperor, would be shaken to its core. Distrust is a poison more potent than any other. No matter how vast and powerful an empire might be, once it starts to creak, it will collapse in an instant.
Yes, that is why a single Monarch is necessary.
A single Monarch, greater than anyone else.
The world does not need multiple leaders.
It does not need vassals, either.
A single Executioner to carry out any command.
And a single Monarch.
The rest need only be subjects.
Under one perfect Monarch, one perfect world is established.
The demons would release poison into the Empire.
It wasn't just the political cohesion of the Sky Empire that would weaken. The Empire’s subjects would become extremely reluctant to accept refugees, and existing residents would kill or discriminate against them. Was that all? Nobles and commoners, commoners and the low-born would fight. People from different cities would hate and discriminate against each other, and oppressed minority races, hybrids, and those treated as social outcasts would explode in outbursts everywhere. Even in the midst of a chaotic war, conflict never ceases. Chaos upon chaos. In the mounting turmoil, the sages would lose their brilliance, the Emperor would lose his wisdom, and the legions would lose their will to fight.
Spreading poison.
It was something Ian Chervil was very familiar with.
Hadn't he done the same in his youth, when he threw all his brothers and sisters into a bloodbath to die? Even before he had this reliable Executioner. Even when Ian Chervil was just the Iron Prince, there was no one on this continent more skilled in such schemes than him. Not a single person.
Internal chaos.
The Allied Forces joined by the Elves.
The Monster Wave that would soon cross the Winter Fortress and arrive. The most powerful empire would have to endure all those calamities. Ian Chervil picked up the Queen from the game board.
‘And at the most critical moment, I shall take everything.’
Ian Chervil sat back on his throne and looked into the void. Carlos stood politely, and beside him was a pure white man, bloodied and bound in chains. Russell White. The guardian of noble order, who wouldn't even follow the King’s orders, now lay sprawled as a loser of the era. A pathetic Swordmaster barely clinging to life. The Master of Winter was no match for the Foremost Sword of the Continent.
“……You people.”
“……”
“You… will… destroy… this world.”
Russell White still hadn't lost his spirit.
Though his body was broken, his mind was not.
He spoke with hatred as he watched Ian Chervil fiddling with a chess piece.
“You… are a calamity. A demon… in… human skin.”
“A demon? What an unpleasant expression.”
Ian Chervil sat leisurely and looked at Russell White.
“I have no intention of becoming such a trivial being.”
“……”
“I shall become a god, Faded Watcher.”
Ian Chervil chuckled.
“Once the whirlwind has swept this world clean, I will establish my order upon that pristine world and become its sole Monarch and God, making this place my world.”
“You… do not… have the right. You are—”
“Only I have the right, you foolish swordsman.”
Ian Chervil gestured.
“Carlos.”
“Yes.”
“I heard that the Steel bloodline devours swords and consumes the masters of those swords. Erase all traces of White so that cannot happen. Destroy every sword, and shatter his soul entirely to remove him from the continent. And…”
Ian Chervil’s eyes sparkled.
“The dregs of the Winter Fortress mentioned that Duke White’s wife received a small dagger as a gift for their wedding anniversary.”
“……”
“Find Duchess Daisy White. Kill the woman, and break the blade containing the Swordmaster’s soul to wipe out every trace of Winter.”
Winter Fortress.
The Duchess was not at the White estate.
She had left the territory for a short while to honor the soul of a certain Knight who had protected her long ago. Duchess Daisy White had traveled to a land on the outskirts of the Iron Kingdom. The Verdi region—a trivial estate that didn't even have a name in the past. Now, people called it the ‘Caravan’ estate.
“While you’re at it, give Steel a trial as well.”
Ian Chervil looked back at the game board.
The chess pieces were scattered across the board.
Among those pieces, there was the most insignificant one.
A Pawn. The most worthless chess piece.
But.
“Did they say it grows stronger the more it is hammered?”
A chess piece that can become anything if it reaches the end.
“Hammer it thoroughly.”
Ian Chervil was curious.
“For the sake of a perfect world, I must test this.”
A chess piece that was currently nothing more than a Pawn.
Caravan.
If that young thing truly reached the ‘end.’
“I wonder if Steel will be able to point a sword at my throat.”
Could he threaten me?
“I shall leave you be until the very end, Last Caravan.”
Well. Ian Chervil didn't think so.
A Pawn on a chessboard can become anything.
But it can never become a King.
Never.
“One square at a time, one square at a time.”
Ian Chervil drank the wine on the table.
As the sweet taste spread, the sun rose.
Bright sunlight spread through the City of Blades, and the Executioner of the young King wearing a blood-stained crown raised his sword. When the blade fell, the Duke of the North, who had protected order, died. The master of one of the Five Families, a Swordmaster who bowed to no one, was gone.
Watching Russell White’s head roll on the floor and cold blood spread, Ian Chervil snapped his fingers.
Soon, the lowest servants of the palace rushed in to clear the corpse of the Swordmaster who had met a pathetic end. They wiped the noble blood with rags and stuffed the head with its eyes wide open into a sack filled with trash. As the blood and flesh were being gathered, Ian Chervil took another sip of wine and called them to a halt. A good idea had occurred to him.
“Do not take it away.”
“Pardon? Then…”
“Now that I think about it, it would be a waste to just throw it away.”
This was the Executioner’s first sacrifice.
It was worth keeping on display.
“Preserve him.”
Ian Chervil smiled brightly.
Taxidermied Swordmasters.
The traces of the old era would remain as a spectacle for the most perfect King.
“I shall keep him in the audience chamber.”
Sweet wine.
Emptying the glass, Ian Chervil thought.
A new era had arrived.
The new era he had waited for so long.
* * *
The embers of a war that would end everything were lit.
A Pawn can never become a King.
Ian Chervil’s words were correct.
However, there was something he failed to realize.
“Is that request enough?”
“Yes.”
Chess.
A game containing complex mysteries.
But the rules are simple.
No matter how many pieces there are.
No matter how many powerful pieces remain alive.
“That will be enough.”
The moment the King is captured, the game is over.