Chapter 411
Chapter 411
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 411
>Chapter Title: Good Job, Dragon Wyvern
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And so, a few more days passed.
The tribes gathered in the camp were still in a state of disarray, discussing the "alliance" that had been debated after Oukan's death.
From what I heard, opinions were still divided over who should take the position of leader of the alliance.
Oh, and by the way, the Yurbuke and Pushk tribes had decided to leave for the Arapurkin lands with us.
"I've already scorched the great plateau once. What face would I have left to stay and call myself a son of the earth?"
Surprisingly, the Pushk tribesfolk and warriors were all in agreement with Yurbuke's decision.
Especially the tribesfolk.
'They say they're living comfortably now, but it couldn't have been easy.'
Not everyone on the great plateau was a warrior.
Unlike the warriors who took pride in the orders issued in the name of "Gear Driman," the tribesfolk had been worried about the warriors dying on the battlefield.
And now, they wanted to leave for peaceful lands.
Of course, the tribesfolk weren't without their anxieties.
But even so, the reason they followed so readily wasn't faith in me, the Lord of the Tower, but faith in Yurbuke, the Driman.
'Is it because I erased the curse so well?'
Yurbuke had considerable prestige.
Anyway.
"Let's see... Did I forget anything?"
Before leaving the camp, I did one final check to make sure I hadn't overlooked anything.
First...
"It was Jorte, right? I even safely released Oukan's right-hand man."
The Kali-level great warrior I had encountered on the way to the camp, and the warriors with him—I sent them all back.
I even healed their wounds clean as a courtesy.
And then...
[I, Moonlight Stone. You, give tribute.]
"......"
I'd forgotten about the wyvern's moonlight stone amid all the work, but I refilled it. Now there were only a few left in my subspace pocket. I'd have to stock up in the city soon.
Finally.
'Astaroth and Lerazie are safe too.'
Yongyong was spotless, without a single scratch.
But thinking about it, I felt a bit wronged.
Let's think about this.
Astaroth and Lerazie were my minions. Yongyong was a minion too.
So why did I have to roll around like this even with minions?
Of course, some might say that's only natural since Astaroth, Lerazie, and Yongyong aren't really my minions.
But I didn't see it that way.
'What's mine is mine. And what's theirs is mine too.'
In this world we live together, dividing yours and mine only hurts each other. We should become "ours" and live together.
Still, though...
Now it should be fine.
After all, our Magic Tower had gained capable minions... no, comrades.
'Yeah, the Pushk tribe will make capable comrades.'
The question was whether the Pushk tribe would adapt well to the Arapurkin lands... Well, that's a problem for when we get there.
With preparations complete, I stepped out of the tent, and Shain, who had come out first, greeted me...
"Greetings."
"......"
"You don't greet me? You wicked thing, what kind of family education did you receive?"
His smug expression made my lips twitch. Astaroth and Lerazie glanced nervously at Shain, sensing my mood.
But it was fine.
You don't always have to win with your fists.
"By origin, I'm a slum rat from the Black-White Slums. No parents."
"......"
So I didn't receive any family education.
"You knew that and said it anyway?"
"What..."
My words struck at the parasite's weak spot like a blade, and the pierced parasite's eyes twitched. Astaroth and Lerazie looked at Shain with eyes like they were staring at trash.
Leaving the frozen Shain behind, I walked on...
[No wonder!]
"...?"
I tilted my head at the wyvern's cry, as if it had realized something. The wyvern, flapping beside me, stared off into the distant plains.
A brief silence followed.
[...Kek!]
I flicked the wyvern's head and kept walking. As I reached the front of the camp, Yurbuke, who had come out ahead to prepare, welcomed me.
"You've arrived?"
"I came, I saw, I fought, I conquered."
"You look to be in good spirits."
"...?"
When I tilted my head, Yurbuke added an explanation with a completely serious expression, devoid of any jest.
"The Sword Circle Lord said that when the Tower Lord speaks words with context, he's surely in poor condition, so avoid him. When he spouts words without context, that's when he's in good condition, so it's safe."
What...
I was so flabbergasted I was at a loss for words.
But I didn't say anything outright to Yurbuke.
Why?
Because the Pushk tribesfolk were gathered closely, watching us.
I'm human too, and I know my boundaries. I knew enough to save face for Yurbuke in front of the tribesfolk.
As I added another layer to Yurbuke's much-needed lesson, he posed a question.
"You seem unusually cheerful. Is something good happening?"
"Something good..."
Yes.
'Acquiring the Pushk tribe... gaining good comrades is always a mood-lifter.'
Look at that. Hundreds of tribesfolk. And that didn't even include the warriors. How could I not be pleased that so many were becoming part of the nest in the Arapurkin lands!
Of course, I didn't voice this out loud.
Not for any particular scheme, but because I didn't know what Shain had told Yurbuke. No need to stir up unnecessary wariness.
"By the way, everything's ready, right?"
"All set. However..."
Yurbuke glanced at the tribesfolk and lowered his voice.
"...Is it really possible to cross the front lines? The great plateau is in the midst of war with the Empire... and besides, we..."
"How were you planning to cross originally?"
"Originally..."
"That guy attached to the Grand Duchess, the oath-sworn. Name was... Pari?"
"...Pariserik."
Right, Pariserik.
Trainer Pariserik. One of the Grand Duchess's twelve oath-sworn, the one who handled horses masterfully, toying with Urbuna's men with a hundred steeds.
"You were planning to ask him to bridge you to the Grand Duchess, right? How were you going to cross then?"
"Back then... Shamefully, we had no solid plan. If the Grand Duchess opened a path, we'd follow it. If not..."
"Frontal breakthrough?"
"We would've targeted weak points in the front lines."
"Same difference."
Could this many people move secretly across such open plains without being detected?
'Impossible.'
Especially with children and elders mixed in the group.
In the worst case, Yurbuke was prepared to accept that level of sacrifice.
In other words...
'...He viewed Oukan's continental advance negatively.'
Of course, if they'd connected with the Grand Duchess via Pariserik's introduction, they wouldn't have been exposed so defenselessly.
The Empire, in the midst of war, would welcome grassland tribesfolk defecting.
'Surveillance is inevitable, though.'
Anyway, I had this covered.
"Just trust me."
"...So, you have a way?"
"Oh, yeah."
I did. Of course I did.
Who am I?
'Junior to Archduke Muspellun, classmate to the Third Imperial Princess, and the one-and-only friend of the Young Patriarch of the Blandoga Family. Ally to Lortel, and the Grand Duchess's lifesaver and priest.'
It'd be hard to find anyone on the continent with backing as solid as mine.
Everyone? Yeah? One message from me? Yeah?
"The Empire's top powers all want me."
"...Can I believe that?"
"Well... not quite to that extent. Anyway, don't worry about crossing the front lines."
Just in case, I'd contacted Senior Muspellun, Third Princess Bellrose, and even the Grand Duchess.
Asking how to safely cross the front lines with the defecting Pushk tribe.
And as those three powers pulled strings...
"...Wait, just for a very brief moment. They've cleared the front lines. It won't be long, but that should be enough."
"Hah!"
Yurbuke let out an exclamation of admiration. Respect gleamed in his eyes as he looked at me.
Truth be told, it wasn't easy for those three either. Strictly speaking, without Senior Muspellun's influence and understanding of the battlefield, it would have been impossible.
The Northern Conquest Army was, strictly speaking, the Emperor's army, and requesting a gap in the front lines meant crossing a certain "line."
But Senior Muspellun, ever the seasoned battle mage, knew the battlefield's dynamics inside out. Without directly asking to "open the front lines," he contacted old connections to adjust deployments and such, creating the gap with minor favors.
Of course, the Third Princess and Grand Duchess lent their strength too.
Oh, and by the way.
'...Urbuna's Patriarch Otto got away, huh?'
They almost had him, but he slipped away due to the sacrifice of Black Stone's Seat Gite.
Truly regrettable.
'Still, it would've been better if the Grand Duchess caught him.'
Well, I'll just clean him up on the way.
Even a great mage like him was battered in body and spirit from repeated defeats. Catching such a guy wouldn't be hard.
Alright, time to get moving then.
I looked around the strangely empty surroundings. Only the Pushk tribe was gathered in front of the camp.
"No send-off?"
"Probably not. Even if they know it was a fair duel... they wouldn't want to see off the one who killed Gear Driman."
"It's because of the parasite, huh."
"I've already settled my grudge separately, so don't worry about it."
"Yeah, alright."
I wasn't particularly concerned anyway. Just thought it might give the parasite something to nitpick.
As I scanned the surroundings, Shain, Astaroth, and Lerazie emerged from inside the camp.
Everyone who was coming had come...
"Well then, shall we head out?"
At my words, Yurbuke nodded and took the lead. He shouted something, and the tribesfolk's procession began to move.
I stood still for a moment, taking in the sight of the Pushk tribe on the march.
"Nice."
"Yeah, you look good. You've seemed down these past few days... Kek!"
The wyvern bit down hard on Shain's foot as he tried to warm up the mood.
[How dare you! Barbaric thing! Go away! Don't bully, friend!]
"'Don't bully'—what language is that? You lizard who can't even speak properly...!"
Shain swung his foot wildly, but the wyvern clung on, refusing to let go.
Dangling and slamming into the ground repeatedly, yet the wyvern's eyes blazed with fighting spirit.
What a heartwarming sight.
'Good job, Dragon Wyvern. Give that Vampire Lord a thrashing with your teeth.'
Blue sky.
A screaming Vampire Lord and the dangling... future Dragon Lord.
And me in between.
Indeed, it was winter.
* * *
Meanwhile, at that very moment.
In the patriarch's chamber of the Decullan Family.
The vast audience hall was packed with Decullan vassals, heavy silence hanging in the air.
The lineup was impressive.
From Aeviron, the first seat of the Seven Mages, to Holland, who had recently ended seclusion and claimed the second seat. Plus the two new mages added after the deaths of two Seven Mages, and the existing three—making the full Seven Mages.
Patriarchs of vassal families, captains of magic squads, and key officials handling Decullan's affairs—all gathered in one place.
It was no exaggeration to say the entire "Decullan" was assembled, when the doors opened and one man entered.
That was when those present prostrated themselves.
"We see the Patriarch."
"We see the Patriarch."
Their voices echoed as one.
Pahren von Decullan gazed at them impassively with his eyes before stepping toward the throne. In the silent hall, only the sound of his footsteps reverberated.
How much time passed like that.
As all focused every nerve on Pahren's every move.
Pahren, seated on the throne in silence, finally spoke softly.
"Fruit has been borne."
"......!"
"......!"
The vassals' eyes widened. "Fruit" meant...
'...He has ascended to an even higher realm.'
'How... in such a short time.'
Pahren had entered seclusion just over two years ago. A long time by some measures, but exceedingly brief for a transcendent great mage seeking enlightenment.
And yet, enlightenment had come!
But.
When Pahren's next words followed, the vassals realized the true shock was something else.
"I shall challenge the Sanctuary. Take note."
"......"
"......"
A profound silence descended upon the hall. Even breathing ceased. The vassals replayed what they had heard, doubting their ears.
They dared not question the patriarch's words, yet they were that unbelievable.
And for good reason...
Sanctuary.
Challenging it meant vying for the seat of the strongest in history.
In other words...
Arch Mage.
It meant claiming that title.
"......"
Pahren gazed at his stunned vassals before closing his eyes slowly. He recalled a meeting with a certain mage from a few years prior.
'...Tower Lord. You've given me a fine gift.'
...The deep blue flame ignited by Aster had guided Pahren to enlightenment.