Chapter 211
Chapter 211
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 211
Chapter Title: Prelude to War (7)
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Under the harsh laws of the barren wilderness, struggle was undoubtedly a path worth walking.
But the God of the Wilderness and Struggle, Atala, had clearly added that one should show courage but avoid recklessness.
No matter how much stronger the merchant had become, facing off alone against the empire's holy knights was absurd. Especially without a single weapon to his name.
Knowing one's limits and preparing thoroughly before challenging a mighty foe was courage. Charging in blindly, ignorant of those limits, was mere bravado. Kadim urged him once more to stop talking nonsense and grab his weapons. Yet Duncan stubbornly insisted on heading to Delutana alone.
He claimed he was fine, persuaded Kadim to take the weapons for himself, swore he would never confront the holy knights head-on, boasted of his past feats as mere strokes of luck, and when nothing worked, he finally... laid bare his deepest worry.
"B-but... what if something big happens in the meantime? If you're delayed finding your comrades in the wilderness, and another tragedy like with the grand archmage occurs..."
He knew how rude that worry was; his voice grew smaller with every word, shrinking into a mouse hole.
To bring up the possibility of such a thing to someone whose hands still bore the fresh blood of lost comrades... In the old days, that would have earned him a threat of having his guts pulled out to make bowstrings—or worse, the deed done for real.
Kadim's face hardened like a shadowed stone wall. But he neither scolded nor threatened Duncan. Considering all they'd been through, it was a valid concern.
"Cyril will probably... be fine, unlike Melissa. That one had more patience than the rest of us five combined. Besides, we still don't even know if she's alive."
"I-I'm sorry, my lord... I didn't mean that she'd met the same fate..."
"No. Just think about it. Even if Cyril somehow went astray and threatened the world's fate, what good would it do if I stopped it alone in the wilderness..."
...after everyone I wanted to protect was already dead? Wouldn't that just be pointless effort?
Kadim swallowed the rest.
This was an admission of his own retreat, a glaring vulnerability. It clashed starkly with the Arch Paladin's noble call to turn against one's own allies to prevent innocent sacrifices... and smacked of selfish self-interest.
But it was also the truth, painfully sincere.
Saving countless innocent lives, as numerous as stars in the night sky—it was a noble, admirable cause. Strictly speaking, though, it was secondary. A nice bonus if it happened, nothing more. The core reasons Kadim endured his brutal mania, faced every adversity, and strove to save this alien world boiled down to these:
Protecting those he wanted to protect, and... finding a way back to his original world.
Now, the merchant and his family stood alongside his first-playthrough comrades as people to protect. But his decision to head to Delutana wasn't solely for them. There was another "important objective."
The information the dragon had shared: the one time divine punishment had weakened.
'When the kingdom serving the false Elga waged war against the land of the god of darkness and chaos... They ultimately annihilated their enemies and won, but suffered heavy losses themselves... Yes, without doubt, divine punishment weakened during that time more than any other.'
If war broke out between the empire and the alliance, that "period" might repeat... allowing him to confirm if it truly was the false Elga's weakness.
Duncan stared blankly at the savage who had suddenly fallen silent. Kadim composed himself and changed the subject.
"...Anyway, if you're joining my path of struggle, I can't very well forbid you from doing the same. If your family runs into trouble, you won't be able to help me properly later."
"M-my lord..."
"Take your weapons. From now on, never let them leave your side. A warrior may only drop his weapons when he's picked up others... or when he's dead."
Duncan's eyes reddened as he took hold of the "Inferno Dagger," the "World Tree Dagger," and the "Razor."
A wordless surge of gratitude and reassurance filled his heart. This great warrior was postponing his own struggle to protect Duncan's family personally... Even if the lord ended up in hell someday, Duncan vowed he'd follow him to the gates at least, overcome with emotion.
But the感動 faded like bursting bubbles.
"Uh, but my lord... Delutana's quite far, so we should procure horses... This area's all barren wasteland; no idea where to find any..."
"...Horses? Why would we need horses? We already have something faster."
"Pardon? What's that?"
A thick finger seemed to point at the sky, then circled in the air before drifting down to point at what dangled beneath his sturdy frame.
Legs packed with muscles several times sturdier than any horse's, capable of covering hundreds of kilometers in a single day with ease.
"It's urgent, so I won't dawdle like before. Keep up diligently."
"......"
Duncan recalled the nightmare: chasing the savage's rear as he galloped like a wild beast across the Golden Highway, vomiting all the way.
'That... was him going easy?'
His bearded face drained to corpse-pale in an instant.
*
Bad tidings flew into the "Golden City" of Delutana.
The message dove straight into the study of a certain grand mansion. The magic-forged pigeon dissolved into the wind upon hitting the window, but the letter clutched in its talons slipped through the crack and delivered its contents. An elderly gentleman, his face newly etched with wrinkles and white hair, picked it up and slit the envelope with a letter knife.
After reading it through, he relayed the news to his tense younger brother and the burly giant watching him.
"Archbishop Erensko has seized control of the imperial army and mobilized it under the banner of a 'Crusade.'"
"......"
"The vanguard's estimated at 15,000 to 17,000 strong: roughly 60% heavy infantry, 30% light infantry, 10% cavalry. The pretext for war... is a 'holy war' to reclaim the autonomy granted by the late emperor from the arrogant alliance and exterminate this continent's heretics and unbelievers."
"......"
"Imperial edicts have gone out not just to the capital's vicinity but to nobles in the outlands for participation. Total mobilization orders for the church's priests and holy knights as well. But the worst news... is that even the wandering 'Decagram' have assembled and joined the fray."
The hazy flames of war had finally ignited.
Envoy Enrico of Remtana caught his breath raggedly. Army leader Goltaran scowled deeply. Only Pellico Turis, head of the Turis family, remained composed. Nodding as if he'd expected it, he shredded the letter, erasing its contents.
"I knew that archbishop was no ordinary man, but I didn't think he'd start a war less than a month into his rule. Pulling even the demon-subjugating forces means demons will rampage across the continent unchecked for a while."
"......"
"Anyway, sending the 'Wind-Winged Messenger'—which I urged as a last resort—suggests all our spies in the holy city were exposed and executed. From now on... we'll have to make do with what intel we have."
Silence. Everyone shut their mouths in helpless frustration.
Delutana's situation was a total disaster.
Other great cities that should be helping were looking out only for themselves. The council still teemed with delegates opposing open war with the empire. Rumors of high officials fleeing had soured public opinion. Now even their means of scouting the enemy was cut off. An oncoming army of over 10,000 was practically an unstoppable natural disaster.
Yet the greatest threat remained the empire's top holy knights: the "Decagram."
War with the empire wasn't unprecedented. Long ago, they'd invaded and subjugated the alliance once before. But that war hadn't borne pompous labels like "Crusade" or "Great War."
Because the Decagram had wiped out an entire city overnight, forcing the alliance to surrender in under three days.
Even an army over 10,000—or more reinforcements—offered a slim chance of battle, however faint. But not those holy knights. No matter the numbers, stopping superhuman monsters who could shatter walls with a single spear thrust and slaughter hundreds or thousands in a blink was impossible.
They knew a repeat of that past catastrophe loomed without countermeasures against the Decagram, and they'd prepared accordingly.
The outlook was grim. Their few available mages had been recalled by the Magic Tower. Artifact soldiers requested from northern warlords showed no sign of coming. Their ace, the "Demon Slayer," was missing... Pellico and Enrico idly drummed their armrests in frustration.
Yet fate hadn't doomed them to sit idle; it left one ray of hope.
"Envoy. Remember the other day when I said I had good news?"
"...I do. We were interrupted by Councilor Ramulek and his dogs before I heard it."
"Right. That news was about this."
Goltaran thrust forward the tattoo on his forearm. Crude in design, it was no ordinary mark.
Wooong—!
Clenching his fist unleashed a sickly yellow glow from the tattoo.
Enrico's eyes bulged first, followed by Pellico's widening in shock.
"What in the... is that..."
"Isn't that... the Atalain tattoo that grants special power? I think I saw something similar on Lord Kadim before..."
"Similar, yes. Can't compare to the Great Warrior's, of course, but using several at once should be decently effective. And as long as 'they' live, I can keep producing more."
Goltaran signaled those waiting outside. Warriors of the "Indomitable Legion" escorted someone into the study under heavy guard. Mysterious figures in hoods concealing their identities.
The hoods came off, revealing young women around twenty, Atalains with healthy beauty. Their tense postures and expressions held youthful inexperience, but their eyes gleamed with the insight of the vast wilderness.
Goltaran introduced them solemnly.
"They are the shrine maidens who serve the Father of the Wilderness, the 'Wilderness Maidens.' Vanished from the continent centuries ago... but lately, new ones have received divine revelations, sensing 'spiritual power.'"
"“...!”"
He dismissed the escorting warriors, then continued quietly.
"I'd guess it's thanks to the Great Warrior's return. He's the bridge between war god and man. With their aid... the Indomitable Legion and council army will be far stronger than now."
Color returned to the Turis brothers' faces, like finding a breathable gap in a sealed mine.
But it was just a breather, not a full escape.
"Even so, facing the Decagram would still be a stretch."
"......"
"These new Wilderness Maidens have only just regained their spiritual power; they're blind to potent spells or rites. Right now, all they can do is inscribe these moderate strengthening tattoos. To unlock their full potential, we need ancient lore or a teacher versed in those rituals."
The brief hope faded. Enrico asked helplessly.
"Lord Goltaran, the old Wilderness Maidens vanished centuries ago... and your homeland, the 'Wilderness,' lies beyond imperial territory. Just where do we find such lore or a teacher?"
"It's not impossible. Ancient Wilderness Maiden ruins are sealed across alliance lands. I myself was once helped intimately by one in Agon's arena."
"Really? Where is she now?"
"...Dead. She insulted the Great Warrior and met just judgment under his axe. Better not dwell on the deceased—find fresh ruins quickly."
The brothers' faces paled from hope to ashen dread.
With the imperial army possibly arriving any moment, how to locate ruins, unearth them, and train these novices... Pellico and Enrico sank back into drumming their armrests deep in thought.
Goltaran gazed briefly at the distant sky beyond the window.
In his bitter eyes flickered the image of an old, foolish maiden who to the end called only him the Great Warrior.
*
Thump-thump. His heart pounded wildly. Glancing glances swept the surroundings. Sneaking steps limped forward.
In Delutana's northern outskirts, Ramulek hurriedly emerged from his burrow. The mystical feat allowed remote communication without a trace of betrayal. Only the sweet promised words lingered in his ears after long devotion.
'...After the "Crusade" ends, Delutana's council will become a governorate. Obey Elga's will and spread the "gospel" to your fellows until then, and the governorship will surely be yours.'
Escaping Delutana, leaking intel, negotiating with the Arch Paladin—all successes... yet unease gnawed at him. Perhaps from going lone without his faithful hounds. He hurried back to his mansion where the dogs awaited.
Suddenly, the world flipped.
"Eek!!"
Thud—!
Dust poured into his broken, stinging nose. Coughing harshly, he realized someone had ambushed and slammed him to the ground.
"Cough-cough! Who—who are you?!"
"......"
"I'm Councilor Ramulek Volgaruis of Delutana! I don't know you, but you're making a grave mistake..."
Ramulek froze mid-sentence. Icy metal chilled his nape. Twisting his stiff neck to glimpse the assailant left him breathless.
One of the savage warriors under that mad barbarian who had bitten through his dog's jaws with bare teeth days ago...
"...So a so-called councilor was playing imperial spy behind our backs."
The Atalain warrior, following Yulia's orders, scowled fiercely as he pinned him down with a thrown axe.