Chapter 171
Chapter 171
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 171
Chapter Title: Infiltrating Ballista
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While Jerome was heading to the Golden Lion Church's temple with Luna, the first "seed" to set out at dawn—Saladin—was already at the outskirts of Ballista with Misha. Or more precisely, they'd been wandering around the area for an hour now.
"Misha, are you sure this is the place?"
"Yes! It's underground here!"
"Hmm..."
Saladin tilted his head at Misha's confident reply.
She was usually sharp and clever, and since she handled spirits, it was unlikely she'd sensed wrong...
Saladin rubbed his eyes and looked again. All he saw was the massive wall displaying its imposing presence.
'Nothing here?!'
Whoosh!
Apart from the wall literally dividing the fortress inside from outside and the wind whipping around, there was nothing to see.
'Even if it's underground, there has to be an entrance somewhere...?!'
Step, step.
Just then, a frail-looking man slowly approached near the wall. Saladin pressed down on Misha's head and hurriedly hid.
The man stood before the wall, scanning the surroundings for anyone nearby before slowly approaching it.
He walked straight toward the seamless wall, so it was only natural he'd crash into it any second.
Swoosh!
Amazingly, the air around the man rippled, and as he reached the wall, he vanished.
As if no one had been there to begin with.
"......!!"
Saladin and Misha, who had watched the scene in stunned silence, exchanged nods.
"Misha, send the spirits after him inside. There might be alert magic set up."
"Got it, mister."
"Mis—hey, Misha?"
Saladin reeled from the unexpected, outrageous title and tried to correct her, but Misha had already closed her eyes and begun communing with the spirits.
"...Sigh. Never mind."
The title debate was important, but they had more pressing matters.
Right now, outside the wall, the man—Den—let out a sigh of relief, completely unaware of the covert pursuer.
"Phew! Finally, I can breathe. Damn it, working covered in that filthy monster slime without even washing up."
He grumbled contentedly, admiring his spotless robe after scrubbing off the grime from a recent experiment.
Normally, he'd have laundered it and changed immediately, but those Shield Family bastards had him stuck underground, cut off from the world.
The moment he heard they'd finally leave today, Den couldn't hold back any longer.
Well, they hadn't fully left Ballista yet, so he'd been warned to stay cautious.
But Den's mind was solely on changing clothes as fast as possible; he couldn't stand the grime anymore.
'The Shield Family's heading back to Banten in the south anyway—no way it affects here.'
Just get through today, and the stifling underground life would end.
Just a bit longer... Huh?
Whish!
Feeling a strange presence behind him, Den whipped around, but his path was empty.
"...What was that? Just my imagination?"
The monster fluids must have frayed his nerves.
Chuckling, he glanced down—and spotted an unfamiliar creature.
A red-tinted lizard.
"A lizard...?"
But why was it semi-transparent?
That was as far as his thoughts went.
Fwoosh!
Flames erupted from the lizard's mouth, engulfing Den and halting his mind.
"Got him."
Misha, eyes still closed, murmured softly.
"Got him? What?"
"That suspicious guy who went in. Didn't want him alerting others, so I asked the salamander to roast him. Hmm... Hold on."
Misha casually dropped the bombshell, then communed again before opening her eyes.
"Salamander says no alert barriers ahead. Probably just maximized illusion magic."
"R-Really?"
Whoosh!
"Come on, mister! If we're too late, they might notice down below. We gotta go stir things up quick so Young Master Jerome isn't delayed."
Not waiting for Saladin's reply, Misha strode toward where Den had vanished into the wall.
Soon, she disappeared too, as if never there. Saladin snapped out of his daze and hurried after.
"...Called me mister again. Damn it."
He grumbled following her, but oddly...
His urge to protest the "mister" had noticeably waned.
Vmmm!
It felt like brushing through a thin curtain as they passed the wall, revealing a completely different scene from outside.
"No way..."
It was clearly a wall—and beyond should be the Dragon Mountains.
Yet before Saladin stretched a smoothly carved tunnel leading underground.
"This... couldn't be built in a day or two."
Even for a mighty empire, such a project would take at least a decade.
"Mister, hurry up!"
Misha waved from afar, urging him on.
There lay a charred lump and smoke-stained clothes.
Undoubtedly the man's possessions.
Which meant that rolling lump was the guy.
"Perfect. This must be their uniform—let's each grab one, just in case."
'What is with this kid...?'
Saladin swallowed hard, staring at Misha.
Even for an enemy, a child burning someone alive without flinching?
And casually picking up the victim's robe to wear?
She'd been so quiet, soothing Miron like a gentle lamb—he'd thought her sweet.
'She didn't soothe Miron—she tamed him!'
Somehow, everyone around Jerome seemed unhinged.
What could he do? He'd just have to steel himself.
Saladin steeled his resolve, heading deeper with Misha.
But one thing Saladin overlooked:
He was one of those unhinged folks around Jerome.
The 7th Paladin Order, led by Captain Stadt, had mobilized to "escort" Jerome's group, leaving their usual training grounds unusually silent and deserted.
Thud!
A shadow softly landed atop the training ground building.
One shadow, yet with two heads.
"Hmm..."
"What do you think, Master? Feel anything like Jerome said?"
The shadow was Rampang carrying Karma on her back.
"Indeed. The scent from that child Miron has intensified here. Truly bizarre... How can so many Heterogenous Power fragrances emanate from this place?"
But Karma's face soured as he sniffed.
"Yet something crucial is off. Overwhelmed by a mess of foul odors."
Swish!
Karma pointed to a corner of the training grounds.
"There—let's check it out."
"Yes, Master. Gazelle, legs."
Vmmm!
A gazelle illusion hovered over Rampang's legs, propelling her gracefully across the 7th's grounds.
Thud, thud.
Whether from the emptiness or overconfidence in her skills,
Rampang strode boldly into the corner interior.
A straight passage linking outer and inner training grounds.
In its center, Karma tapped the left wall.
"Here—break it open. Quietly."
"Yes, Master. Grizzly, arms."
Thoom!
Rampang's—no, the grizzly bear's—merciless paw shattered the stone wall, revealing stairs to a basement.
Whoosh!
Unclear what magic device triggered it, but a foul aura rushed out as the wall crumbled.
Even without Great Sage Karma's sharp senses, its thick density was unmistakable.
"Whoa... It's real?"
Rampang's lips curled coldly.
Heterogenous Powers.
The exclusive might of the Black Lions.
Though split into pure and turbid factions feuding, all agreed Heterogenous Powers defined the Black Lions, regardless of sect.
Why else the "black" moniker?
The Holy Empire—arrogant and narrow-minded—branded them heretics, devil's path.
They shunned and oppressed, yet secretly coveted Heterogenous Powers?
As White Wing of the Black Lions, transcending factions, Rampang couldn't ignore this.
"Fine. Let's see what you hid up your asses."
No need to tire her master further.
"Master, hold tight and rest. I'll tell you when it's done."
Whoosh!
Carrying Karma, Rampang dashed underground.
The spiral stairs descended so deep it was impossible to gauge, ending with paladins on guard.
Despite the undetectable location, the facility's importance ensured ironclad security without flaw.
Even the gatekeepers faintly exuded unfamiliar auras—not auras.
'These guys from the 7th Paladin Order too.'
Far from ordinary, but mere knights by her standards.
Before Rampang, Throne occupant, they were negligible.
But her power's nature prevented silent kills unnoticed.
No alert magic? Unlikely for such a key site.
Even without, those inside would notice.
'No choice.'
Stealth abandoned from here. Time to rampage freely, as discussed with Jerome.
"Saber Tiger, arms."
Tzzzzz!
The continent's sharpest beast claws manifested on her hands; the gatekeepers sensed the danger.
"Wh-Who goes there!"
"You don't need to know."
Splatter!
She crossed and swung her arms.
BOOM!
The gatekeepers exploded with the door in a deafening roar, no screams.
"Sis is busy right now—stay put nicely."
Patpatpatpat!
Rampang ran openly, no longer hiding.
Underground, sealed space.
Tricky terrain for her optimal power.
Full rampage risked collapsing the ceiling.
But only up to a point.
"What was that noise!"
"Intruder!"
Clankclankclank!
Guards from everywhere rushed at the entrance commotion.
"So many."
BOOM!
"Arrrgh!"
In this fortress, sans Duke Kamil, no paladin or soldier withstood Rampang's might.
But their endless numbers wore on her.
'What are they hiding to warrant such overkill defense?'
Even vital facilities in border Ballista—Dragon Mountains to Banten, northern Dalton border of Five Nations.
Vast defense area, yet this poured disproportionate forces into protection?
For an unknown facility most continentals ignored?
Rampang no military scholar, but common sense prevailed.
Considering most 7th Paladins escorted Jerome, this exceeded norms.
It meant one thing.
'This place mustn't leak outside—at any cost.'
Could spark full war with Black Lions, not skirmishes.
'I'll see what they're hiding.'
No number of guards stopped her without Kamil.
How many felled?
Finally, past all defenses, the facility's end.
"Wh-What the hell..."
Facing the hellish path at its core, Rampang was speechless.