Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Golden Highway (1)
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After four straight days of rest, the legate had fully recovered. Enrico sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched languidly.
"Ughhh... Phew, this is the first time I've gotten to rest this deeply since becoming a legate. It feels like I went into the grave and came back to life."
"Are you really all better now, Legate? If you fall ill again, I'll just leave you behind next time."
"Ah, my apologies to you all. To make up for the delay, I'll add some extra pay, so please don't be too upset."
"......"
Kadim nodded roughly. He hadn't said it for the reward, but there was no reason to turn down money that was being offered.
The legate's party decided to leave Mesen right away.
The eight travelers mounted fresh horses provided by the chief aide and headed north out of the village.
The early-rising villagers watched the procession with bleary eyes. But soon enough, they turned back to their tasks—sweeping doorsteps, carrying feed, and so on. The brief chaos after the vigilante group's disappearance had settled, and things were gradually returning to normal. With days so short here, there wasn't time to gawk at every passerby.
The land north of Mesen was just as vast and open as what they'd seen on the way in—an endless plain. The dawn sunlight spread out like a carpet ahead, while the breeze that had caressed the clouds descended to the earth, creating waves of gold and green. No need to wander or make detours; two straight days down this beautiful, peaceful road would bring them right to their destination, the Golden Highway.
This time, there were no incidents on the journey.
The legate urged his horse on energetically, as if showing off his recovery. The soldiers followed, savoring the fine weather and scenery. The merchant chattered freely without glancing warily at the barbarian for once, while the blacksmith swelled with anticipation of reuniting with his family at last. With the barbarian's escort—who missed nothing, not even grass swaying kilometers away—they raced toward the Golden Highway at a brisk pace.
- Neighhh!
- Prrrf, prrrrf...
Clop, clop, clop...
Horse hooves left long tracks in the turf, and as the pink sun set softly in the distance, they found a suitable campsite. A ditch ran alongside, with plenty of wood and brush for firewood—perfect for an overnight stay.
"We should camp here tonight, Legate."
"Agreed. Feldric! We're staying here—unpack the gear!"
The soldiers busied themselves tethering the horses, unloading packs, and building a fire to set up camp.
In the late evening, the group pulled out rye pies and smoked chicken from Mesen and ate their fill. The soldiers used their helmets as pots to boil a stew, while Enrico and Kadim washed down their meals with wine. Duncan curiously approached Gullak, who was gulping something down eagerly, only to recoil at the familiar fishy stench and flee.
After dinner, one soldier stood watch while the rest enjoyed some free time.
When Gullak offered to repair gear, two soldiers hurried over with daggers, iron gauntlets, and a broken belt. The remaining soldier sparred with Duncan using sticks—and astonishingly, Duncan lost after a close match.
"Agh! No, if I hadn't gone easy on you, I'd have won, soldier! One more round, just one more!"
"Kahahaha! Don't make me laugh! My sharp blade's already sliced Duncan sir's throat—do you want to fight the corpse too?"
The soldier thrust his stick high into the air. Though he'd only beaten a mere merchant, he celebrated as if he'd triumphed over a legendary warrior in bloody combat. The other soldiers and Gullak paused their repairs to watch and roar with laughter.
Meanwhile, Kadim stared into the campfire, lost in thought.
He hadn't shown it all day, but his mind was a whirlwind of complications.
The demons' rampage and resurrection, the church's Arch Paladin, Decagram, the Magic Tower and its mages wielding demonic energy, the shrine maidens of ruins and wilds, Beska, Agon's Furious Horn, Cyril, his other first-playthrough companions, and those shadowy figures spying on him and doling out contrived rewards...
"......"
The journey had begun to find answers, yet it only seemed to breed more questions. Even reaching the Magic Tower and reading Melissa's records—would that satisfy all his doubts? Kadim was certain it wouldn't.
As he closed his eyes, unable to sort his thoughts, someone crept toward the fire. The intruder glanced around slyly, spotted Kadim's glowing red tattoo—like the embers—and asked in a puzzled tone.
"Hm? Have you always had that tattoo? I don't remember seeing it before..."
"......"
"Hrm, well, it's quite impressive anyway. I've heard Atalans give tattoos special meaning. Something about granting courage and vitality against enemies? Haha, if that's true, I'd get one myself..."
"No need to scrape for small talk to win my favor, Legate. If you have something to say, cut the preamble and spit it out."
"......Ahem."
Caught out, Enrico coughed awkwardly. He poked at the fire with a stick needlessly before murmuring the main point.
"Before I ask, I'll give context first—lest you rage like last time. And of course, what I say now stays secret from others."
Kadim's gaze flicked over. Enrico leaned in and lowered his voice.
"You might already know this. Most in the Alliance see 'Agon's Furious Horn' as just the arena's legendary champion, but that's only half the truth. He's also the leader of an armed force packed with Atalan warriors wielding 'special powers.'"
"......"
"I don't know exactly what that 'special power' is. But word is, Galentana—which governs Agon—and the council have already placed them directly under council command to counter the Magic Tower and church. So each warrior must be worth a hundred men."
"......"
"That's why I asked before if you were one of them or had some connection to Agon's Furious Horn. I'd never seen an Atalan with such superhuman strength beyond common sense."
Kadim stayed silent. It was unexpected, but he felt no particular stir. To impersonate a great warrior, one needed followers and strange powers, after all.
"......Now I'll ask. Why did you get so angry hearing 'Agon's Furious Horn'? Is there some special reason?"
Flies danced in the rising smoke, holding a grotesque festival. Tension etched the legate's face like walking on thin ice. Kadim gazed obliquely at the chaotic swirl of flames, smoke, and starlight.
A spark died like an insect, and his firm lips parted.
"He stole what was mine."
"......What?"
"The title 'Great Warrior of Atala.' It's not that circus clown's—it's rightfully mine. He may have used it while the owner was away, but now that the owner's back, it's time to take it back."
Enrico was speechless.
The legate, who had gauged countless people, could tell at least this much: the barbarian spoke truth. And the weight in those eyes, wandering the night sky amid the sparks—it was heavier than any he'd seen in his life.
A gut feeling struck him: perhaps he faced someone utterly extraordinary. Awe and reverence welled up.
"Who... who the hell are you? Who are you to rightfully claim the title of the War God's great warrior?"
The answer was already in the question. Rather than point it out, Kadim changed the subject.
Ting!
"Do you know anything about this emblem on the silver coin, Legate?"
"......Hm? Where'd you get this currency?"
"From some archaeologist. If you know anything, I'd appreciate it."
"No idea, sorry. It's not a council or house symbol... Completely unfamiliar. If an archaeologist gave it, maybe from some lost ancient kingdom."
"......"
Kadim pocketed the coin and asked the legate to investigate the emblem instead of extra pay. If the house's info network truly spanned the Alliance, something would turn up. Enrico agreed readily.
"Time to switch with the soldiers. I'll take watch now. We ride all day tomorrow, so rest early, Legate."
Kadim rose and vanished. No hints on his identity or anything. Enrico stared at his retreating back, then looked away slowly.
The dancing flames showed no sign of dying. They reached into the dark as if to burn eternally. Warmth from the fire gave way to cool night air brushing his nape. Soldiers' chatter, the merchant's tales, hammering metal, crackling wood, mournful crickets—all mingled noisily in his ears.
The sleepless camp's night deepened bit by bit.
The Free City Alliance lags behind the Lucaonia Empire in nearly every way.
Smaller land, fewer people. The wealth of its great merchants pales against the emperor and high nobles. The Magic Tower's mages and valiant legates are mere weaklings compared to Elga Church priests and holy knights.
Yet there's one thing the Empire can never match.
Transportation.
Since fractured powers united under the Alliance banner, its people made commerce and trade their historic mission—to build foundations against the Empire someday. For generations, common folk toiled and sacrificed. Finally, roads linking key strongholds crisscrossed the land.
Foremost among them: this trade route, the Golden Highway.
Delutana, Galentana, Vestana—the Alliance's three greatest cities, linked in one vital artery. Including branches, it covers nearly all major cities. They say even all other roads' users combined wouldn't outnumber this one's.
True to its fame, an enormous line snaked before the gateway.
Families sprawled on oxcarts, elders with bundle packs, coachmen fixing wheels while sullen women leaned from carriage windows, mercenaries cutting line amid protesting travelers, urchins eyeing pockets, folks lying on spread clothes...
"......How long do we have to wait..."
"Sigh, what's going on..."
"......Damn, not even surprising anymore..."
"No, I was here first..."
The crowded din of voices. Dust, sweat, animal stench, the reek of long waits. Travelers burdened with their own journeys formed endless, layered queues.
Kadim frowned. He'd heard the line was long, but this exceeded expectations. Might take all day.
He wasn't the only surprised one.
"......Heavens, what madness is this?"
"Mercy, Remillion... What is this crowd..."
The rest of the party gaped at the line.
"Not usually this bad?"
"No. Something must be wrong. Feldric, ask the waiting travelers what's up."
"Yes, sir!"
Soldier Feldric rode to the crowd, inquired, and returned.
"Gateway's sealed. Guards are controlling all entry. They've been waiting three days already."
"......What? Why's it sealed?"
"......Travelers don't know. Guards won't say..."
Enrico's brow furrowed slowly. Waiting blindly with no reason or reopening time was foolish.
"Head to the gate first. I'll ask the guards myself."
"......"
The legate's party bypassed the line.
Clop, clop, clop—
Grumbles and protests flew their way now and then, but no real trouble. One look at the hulking, fierce barbarian trailing them silenced it all. Kadim's mere presence deterred needless quarrels, urging smooth resolution.
But not for the gate guards.
"Turn back. Golden Highway's closed. Find another route or wait in line till the blockade lifts."
"......Reason?"
"Can't say. No reason to tell the likes of you. Don't hassle us—go, barbarian."
The guard held firm before the towering barbarian, unbowed. His steel breastplate bore Delutana Legate Army insignia—the source of his boldness. No Atalan would ignore what that meant; no cause for fear.
Kadim, oblivious to the symbol, pressed.
"Can't even say why? We don't know how long we'll wait."
"Already said no. Deaf or stupid? Ask again, and it's deliberate interference, barbarian."
"Really can't answer? Or I'll rip your mouth off?"
"......What!?"
The guard lunged with his spear in fury. But meeting Kadim's eyes froze him mid-thrust, gripped by primal terror. Thrusting now would unleash something horrific—animal instinct screamed it.
He couldn't strike. But other guards approached, spotting the commotion. Kadim turned back to the brimmed-hatted legate, growling like a beast.
"Hey, Legate. Pick one."
"......Which?"
"Watch those soldiers get torn apart by me, or reveal yourself and fix this."
"......"
To Kadim, it was perfectly reasonable.
Contract was escort to Golden Highway—duty done. Force or authority needed now. Legate said he'd only reveal if special circumstances arose, but wasn't this special enough?
After a pondering hum, Enrico chose the latter. He approached the guards alone.
"Lower your weapons and explain the blockade, soldiers. Take me to your captain."
"What?"
"Nonsense. Why should we?"
The guards scowled, thrusting weapons more threateningly. But Enrico showed no fear.
"......You have the duty."
They'd know what his symbol meant too.
He doffed his hat and flashed a ring with the Delutana Council crest.
"Enrico Turis, Legate of Remtana. As a member of the Delutana Council—the rightful overseers of the Golden Highway—I order again: Lower weapons, explain the blockade. Take me to your captain."
"......!!!"
The guards paled like thunderstruck. They trembled rigidly, then flipped—lowered arms, saluted booming.
"Loyalty! Glory to the Golden City!"
"Loyalty! Glory to the Golden City!"
"Loyalty! Glory to the Golden City!"
The highest-ranking dashed forward, bowing.
"Loyalty! Glory to the Golden City! We heartily welcome you to Golden Highway Gate 2, Legate sir! Forgive our failure to recognize you! I'll escort you to the captain now!"
"......"
Enrico sighed deeply and replaced his hat.
Kadim and the soldiers released sword hilts, gripping reins instead.