Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Grassland Tales (2)
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The Allied Forces' advance was delayed by the orcs' sporadic raids.
Ragna gathered the commanders. They had to pick up the pace somehow.
"Any more delays aren't good."
He glanced at the national emblems hanging in his tent.
Thirteen crests were gathered there.
Some among them were mere duchies or city-states.
Excluding the Empire, the nations that could be called powerful were Brioll, the Holy Kingdom, Burssen, and Liberia.
Ragna made up his mind.
"There's something I need to inform you of. We've received intelligence that Okua is linked to black magic."
Everyone except Yuri wore strange expressions.
Black magic was a lost forbidden art.
It existed, but it didn't possess the overwhelming power commonly rumored. Much like how dragons differed from komodo drakes, black magic was merely a low-tier branch of magic.
That was the general perception.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Even if they've dabbled in black magic, if we maintain our dispels..."
"Do you think I called you here without knowing that?"
As Ragna replied gravely, Jonathan of Burssen asked,
"In that case, Your Highness, could you share what exactly concerns you?"
Ragna grinned at Jonathan.
He appreciated how the man cut straight to the point without useless chatter.
Ragna placed his hand on the blackboard set up behind him and wrote letters.
Black Magic
Three characters.
But the handwriting was crooked.
Yuri bowed his head to stifle a laugh. Ragna's penmanship was atrocious, like that of a child.
The other commanders bit their tongues, cheeks bulging.
Ragna ignored them and spoke with a stern expression.
"Black magic exists. Time to redefine it. The black magic you know differs from what worries me. For simplicity, let's call it true black magic."
"True... Black Magic...!"
He even added a oddly childish naming flair.
Yuri bowed his head again, and the others bit their tongues once more.
Ragna wrote new letters.
Gert
The mood gradually sobered. The name Gert carried that much weight.
"A name you all know. This guy's the product of black magic."
Yuri narrowed his eyes.
This was a fact even he, returned from the past, hadn't known.
Adelbaine's Gert.
The Death Knight returned from death.
And one of the Ten Strong.
"It's not widely known, but it's true."
He circled the name Gert.
"I'm no mage, so I don't know much about black magic. But they say it doesn't use mana as an offering—something else instead. Guess what that is from Gert?"
"Who the hell revived Gert?"
"No idea."
Silence fell inside the tent.
Gert was that terrifying a name.
A knight returned from death had razed a kingdom.
Adelbaine lay in ruins.
The same held now. Gert wandered Adelbine alone, attacking any living humans. The once-prosperous old kingdom had become a forsaken land of death no one visited.
"And in this black magic, the most prized offering is human life."
Ragna relayed the information he'd heard from Moyong Chan.
He explained that the orcs were gathering humans for human sacrifices, and Okua had likely already claimed countless lives.
Anger surfaced on the commanders' faces.
But Yuri felt relief instead.
In his previous life, the Allied Forces had no such intel.
Nor was it known that Okua used black magic, or that Moyong Chan targeted him because of it.
The tangled threads were finally knotting properly.
This Allied Forces was different.
"If Okua is truly unleashing black magic, its power will grow with time. That's why they're stalling. I know fatigue is high. But endure, please."
"Yes, sir."
"This time, we wipe out the orcs for good. If we fail, their next target will be our homelands."
Ragna slammed his fist into the blackboard.
The wooden backing splintered, a hole forming.
Blood trickled from the back of his hand.
"You've all seen what orcs are like."
Ragna met each commander's eyes in turn, scanning them one by one.
"We won't end this ambiguously like the last Allied Forces. We'll exterminate those filthy scum completely."
Ragna possessed imperial dignity. And the fierce warrior spirit unique to stalwart fighters.
Those two elements ignited the will to fight in his subordinates.
"Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"From now on, we speed up. Yuri, form scout units like before. Will you handle it?"
"Of course."
"Orcs keep lurking near our supply lines. Burn all nearby settlements, eliminate their bases, then head straight for Okua."
Ragna continued,
"As you all know, one of the Ten Strong—an outsider—has joined us. The Allied Forces won't lose. Let's share a drink over Okua's corpse."
Ragna grinned as he spoke.
Everyone clapped.
No imperial kin disregarded decorum like him.
By Yuri's knowledge, even distant cousins of the emperor acted superior, as if from another race.
But Ragna was a warrior like them.
That's why people liked Ragna—and why the emperor hated him.
Yuri hoped he'd never have to fight the man later.
Ragna grinned at Yuri and asked,
"How's the outsider faring?"
"Yes. Seems Brioll's food suits his taste."
"I see..."
He knew Yuri ate the same rations as the soldiers.
When first told, Ragna had laughed so hard the tent nearly shook.
"I'll drop by sometime. Curious about the famed Brioll cuisine."
"Always welcome."
With that, the meeting ended.
The conclusion was always the same.
They sought the orcs' extermination.
Cori had been learning magic under Hernando lately.
Calling him a kind teacher was a stretch.
If Cori were an ordinary human, he might suspect Hernando was toying with him under the guise of lessons.
"Cori. Look at the grassland today."
The Allied Forces had just repelled an orc ambush, sending cavalry to pursue their fleeing main force.
Bodies of humans and orcs littered the entire view.
It was far from a pleasant sight.
"Want to change it?"
"Change what, sir?"
"Say, remove those bodies. Or sprout a fine tree on the grassland."
"Uh..."
Cori imagined the scene he desired.
Remove the ugly corpses, plant a tree bursting with flowers atop them. That would beautify the corpse-strewn grassland.
And white birds flocking across the sky...
In that instant, the scene manifested.
But only for a moment.
The picturesque landscape that flitted across his vision soon faded, overwhelmed by reality.
"Was that you just now, sir?"
"Yeah. That's magic."
"Magic..."
"Making your desires reality."
If knights altered themselves via mana circulation methods, mages projected mana outward to alter reality.
This difference made magic easier to counter and less efficient. But well-used magic could shift the world's course.
"Theory piled up and made it seem complex, but the essence hasn't changed."
"Just wish strongly?"
"No. But close. Not too weak, but not too strong either."
"It's hard."
Magic had many ambiguous aspects. Techniques varied by individual senses.
"No rush. Take it slow."
Hernando stirred his mana.
Cori followed, raising the scant mana he possessed. A small, invisible orb-like thing floated up.
"Like I just did—alter the grassland."
Hernando said that and stood.
Left alone on the grassland, Cori kept manipulating mana.
But it was tough.
He visualized mana to veil the corpses. But that wasn't what Hernando meant.
"So hard..."
Cori plopped down.
Could a half-orc like him really learn magic?
Doubts about his potential arose, but the small power writhing at his fingertips was unmistakably mana.
Prince Yuri had told him to steal everything from Hernando. Suck his master dry like a venomous disciple eyeing the back of his teacher's head.
Half-joking, sure, but Cori wanted to meet Yuri's expectations.
"Heart..."
Even ordinary folk held trace mana. Knights more so.
Yet they couldn't use magic.
Having mana didn't mean every desire turned to magic.
So what kind of "heart" did the world permit?
"No clue."
Cori flopped onto his back.
The sky stretched above.
"Ugh..."
He just wanted the war to end safely.
Allied Forces win, orcs all die, and he go to Brioll to live among people.
Too vague for magic, but Cori wished at the blue sky.
"World, please..."
So he startled when someone tripped over him.
Someone running had snagged on Cori and fallen.
Ignoring the pain in his side, fearing it might be an orc scout, Cori jumped up in terror.
But it was a person.
"Uh..."
A woman in tight black leather garb clung to him. Sprawled out, her long hair splayed messily.
"Um..."
She sprang up like a wary cat, glaring at him.
"You..."
Her eyes held recognition.
Cori, relieved it wasn't an orc, asked her,
"You okay?"
"Oka..."
Mid-sentence, she glanced at her ankle.
"Twisted it?"
"..."
She was terse.
Seemed highly guarded.
Cori knew his looks didn't win human favor. To calm her, he spoke gentler,
"Sorry. I was lying down and tripped you. If you're okay with it, let me heal you."
"I'm fine."
"No, you look like walking hurts..."
"One question."
"Yes. Ask away."
"How'd you hide your presence..."
She trailed off, scanning him up and down.
"No way."
Seemed she'd convinced herself.
She turned to leave but collapsed again. Ankle more sprained than thought.
"Urk..."
"I-I'll get someone. It's dangerous here."
Mid-sentence, Cori tilted his head.
How had a lone woman reached this remote grassland?
But he couldn't ponder further. The woman reached out and said,
"Tell Prince Yuri."
Asana closed her eyes under Yuri's incredulous gaze. She was more baffled herself.
"Tripped over Cori?"
"Yes."
"Heh..."
Yuri shrugged.
"Didn't know the guy had that talent."
"I must've let my guard down briefly."
Asana was an elite assassin and tracker. Her senses never missed nearby lifeforms.
Yet she'd missed Cori.
Endlessly roaming the plains must've worn her down unwittingly.
"Never mind that—why head that way?"
At Yuri's question, Asana paused briefly.
After the Allied Forces took Kurui's settlement, she'd scouted the area and sent Yuri a letter with intel.
She'd avoided meeting in person for what she planned next.
She intended to infiltrate Okua's territory. Yuri wouldn't want that.
"To Okua?"
Her employer was quick on the uptake.
Already guessed, looking down with chiding eyes.
"Yes."
"Dangerous."
"I'll be fine."
"He's using black magic. No need to risk it."
She thought the black magic made infiltration more necessary, but Asana didn't explain.
He'd shake his head anyway.
"Ankle hurt bad?"
"No."
"Looks painful."
"It does hurt."
"Hernando's coming soon. Wait a bit."
Asana's presence was top secret, so they waited for trustworthy Hernando.
"Here?"
Yuri lifted the hem of her pants, caressing the swollen ankle.
"Your Highness, that..."
"Hold still."
Graciously, the prince massaged it himself.
Asana's cheeks flushed.
"Um..."
"Not embarrassed, are you?"
"Not that..."
"Then?"
"Rubbing a sprain irritates it further..."
"Oh, really?"
"Very painful."
"Sorry."
Embarrassed, Yuri smacked the ankle lightly.
"Ow!"