Chapter 186
Chapter 186
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 186
Chapter Title: Radiance's Strike
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Duke Camille hadn't anticipated that Heavenly Ace Bacchus would personally intervene in this incident.
Unless he possessed absolute certainty that Ballista Fortress could hold firm even if he led the pursuit himself—as he was doing now—he was not the sort of man to leave Banten unguarded. That was the destiny of the Carviot Count family, the shield safeguarding the kingdom.
Even if the outcome meant the death of his own child.
That was why he had pursued with his full might. An ally capable of incinerating both the Colosseum and the Chamber meant those accompanying Jerome were beyond what Staat and the Seven Star Knight Order could handle alone.
His expectations proved correct. And sure enough, the woman standing beside Jerome.
He had no idea who she was or what she did, but her level was anything but low. She must have been the one who took down the Seven Star Knight Order.
But that was it. While he dealt with her, the saints and Four Star Knight Order could mop up the rest without issue.
Yes.
If not for that damn pint-sized bastard smirking so smugly right now.
"...Arandal."
"Hahaha. Long time no see, Your Grace. I trust you've been well?"
Duke Camille ground his lower lip.
...Damn it, of all people.
Camille knew Arandal's prowess better than anyone.
Banten and Ballista Fortress had once been hotspots for localized battles fiercer than those in the central frontlines.
Back then, Camille had attempted countless times to claim Arandal's head on the battlefield.
There wasn't any special reason.
The knight simply bore a title that overlapped with his own moniker, Radiance.
Of course, youthful recklessness played a part, but over the long years, his desire to sever Arandal's neck had always been sincere.
Even setting aside personal grudges, the value of a knight rated as the pinnacle of the hexagon formations on the battlefield was no small thing.
The problem was that Arandal knew the worth of his own head and never offered it easily.
The mere fact that he had endured Camille's blade through all those clashes and kept his head was proof enough of his skill.
And that assessment hadn't changed much even now.
As Camille stared at him wordlessly, Arandal spoke again.
"Haha, come now. It's been a while, Your Grace, but staring so intensely with those fiery eyes is quite intimidating. It seems you and your men have wandered a bit too far on this stroll—why not head back now?"
...Around the level of four marquises.
Ignoring Arandal's cheeky question, Camille coolly gauged the subtle aura emanating from him.
Deep down, he wanted to slaughter every last one of these vermin without mercy. Even if it sparked war with the Shield Family.
Yes. If he had the certainty he could kill that whelp, he would have ignored the consequences and drawn his sword without hesitation, as the princess commanded.
But against the burning desire in his chest, Camille's mind analyzed both sides' forces with icy clarity.
If Arandal unleashed the Shield Family's cursed secret technique, Unseal, he might not defeat Camille, but he could hold out long enough.
Forcing the fight would let him annihilate Arandal and the Shield knights, but...
That 'brief' window would give the whelp—his original target—more than enough time to escape this battlefield.
...Crunch!
Camille's fist clenched the reins until it seemed it might burst.
It had all come down to the slimmest margins.
If he'd only received Jildre's report on the Chamber's destruction a bit sooner, or learned of the Colosseum's damage earlier.
If those damn monsters—little more than livestock in the fortress—hadn't swarmed out.
If either Arandal or that woman hadn't been here.
The Shield Family whelp would never have left this place alive today.
...It almost feels like the Lord Himself doesn't want that whelp's time to come yet.
A fleeting moment passed, and with his judgment made, Camille slowly released his grip on the reins.
Shing!
He then drew his treasured blade, the Radiant Sword Gladiate.
"!"
Contrary to Camille's expectations, Arandal's expression hardened the instant the weapon cleared his waist.
"...Your Grace. Are you truly intent on seeing this excessive stroll through to the end?"
Arandal's voice sank deep as he questioned Camille, but the duke ignored him and swung his sword.
Flash!
The aura infused in Camille's strike swept across the area where Na and Rampang stood in an instant.
"!"
They hadn't anticipated Camille launching such a wordless attack, and crucially, with no killing intent directed at them, their reactions were just a fraction slower than usual.
Yes. A mere instant.
But for the man called Radiance, that moment was like an eternity, akin to the speed of his light-like sword strikes.
More than enough time for Duke Camille to achieve his true goal.
Drip... Thud!
A sound like water trickling from beside Na and Rampang, followed by the heavy, dull thump of objects hitting the ground.
The five Seven Star Knights Rampang had brought at her request.
Their severed upper bodies now tumbled onto the plain.
"...As if, Sir Arandal. I was merely strolling near my home when I witnessed guests returning after spotting thieves—as the homeowner, I simply handled the pests. No need for misunderstandings."
"...How dare you!"
They were valuable prisoners who could reveal how the Holy Empire's holy knights had come to wield Heterogenous Powers. Rampang's eyes blazed with fury as the witnesses were eliminated before her due to a moment's lapse.
I extended a hand to block her as she slowly drew upon her Water King's aura and spoke urgently.
"We appreciate the courtesy, Your Grace. Then, may we take our leave?"
"...!!"
Rampang's eyes widened in disbelief at my response, glaring daggers at me.
...She got me good at the end.
I could more than understand her feelings. But I couldn't draw my sword first now.
Duke Camille wasn't a pursuer sent by the Empire's 'Seven Star Knight Order'—he'd merely cut down the 'bandit rabble' we'd encountered on the plain.
Of course, he had no right to execute the prisoners we'd captured.
However, Camille wasn't some lightweight whose authority could be questioned over simply felling 'bandit rabble.'
"Not at all. Now that you've met Sir Arandal too, you can rest easy. Farewell, then. Young Master Jerome. I eagerly await the day we 'surely' meet again."
With those pointed words, Duke Camille turned his horse around.
He hadn't fulfilled the princess's command, but he needed to erase the Colosseum lead now.
Thud thud thud thud!
"......"
Not lowering his guard against the receding duke and holy knights, Arandal slowly withdrew his hand from the necklace he'd prepared for Unseal if needed.
"...Phew, thanks to you, Third Young Master, I really won't die a peaceful death."
"Haha, is that so? I feel like I'll live to a ripe old age with Sir Arandal around. You saved my life."
No joke—this time, we'd truly been on the brink of death.
As I slowly relaxed and unfastened my gauntlet, Rampang approached with a hardened expression.
"...Priest. Was that guy Radiance, Camille?"
"Yes. The Holy Empire's master of swift swordsmanship."
"...Scary bastard. He clearly wanted to capture and kill us, but the moment he judged the odds unfavorable, he turned away without a second thought."
Exactly. That ruthless pragmatism was Camille's most terrifying trait. Despite wielding power to shake the continent, he wasn't a valiant vanguard—he was a commander with a broad view of the battlefield.
Thus, he avoided needless combat, sealed the Seven Star Knights' lips for solid gain, and withdrew without regret.
"Not for nothing is he called the pinnacle of the three dukes."
"Yeah... This is a problem. We finally had a lead on their schemes, and now it's back to square one."
'Should we go find those orcs again now?' Rampang muttered, gnawing her lower lip.
...Truly regrettable, but that ship had sailed. Impatient orcs wouldn't just stare at a rare treat they'd gotten their hands on.
"It's too early to give up."
"...What?"
Leaving the puzzled Rampang behind, I called out to Luna, who was handing a box to Miron nearby.
"Archbishop Luna. Mind giving me one potion? No, make it three."
"What's up?"
"Got some people to heal."
"...Fine."
Whoosh!
Luna, utterly focused on the box, tossed them over without protest.
Splash!
I uncorked the first potion and poured it liberally over my right arm, now free of the gauntlet.
Bubble bubble!
Rough bubbles rose from my arm as the fracture and swelling gradually subsided.
Watching this, Rampang suddenly tilted her head.
"...But priest, when did your arm break that badly?"
Hidden by the gauntlet, I hadn't noticed, but Jerome's right arm was swollen to the point it was practically shattered.
It was true he'd looked fatigued after clashing with Staat, but he'd never imagined the arm inside was this wrecked.
When the hell had he sustained such a grievous injury?
"Ouch."
I swung the treated arm a couple times to check the alignment, then rose and headed to the holy knights' corpses Camille had sliced.
Tap, tap!
A light kick scattered stones around the bodies, and a subtle change stirred in what they'd thought were dead holy knights.
"Ugh... Urk..."
"Urk..."
Two of the five corpses suddenly began groaning.
"...W-What the?!"
Rampang recoiled in shock, but ignoring her, I poured a potion on each of the revived holy knights.
Bubble bubble!
"Earlier, I deflected Duke Camille's sword strike a bit. Well, my right arm got totally smashed for it."
If he'd swung from up close, no chance. But at this range, it was different.
Not fully, but partially—he could parry enough.
"I altered the strike's trajectory to spare the two knights a fatal blow, then knocked them into a coma instantly. Otherwise, they'd have died right away."
The stones I'd kicked moments ago—the few remaining in my pouch—had secretly deployed the Dream Demon Formation on those two knights.
No matter how great Camille was, he couldn't read a formation cast with a Heterogenous Power from that distance.
Distance aside, sensing Heterogenous Powers wasn't easy to begin with.
"Fewer mouths to speak now, but it shouldn't make much difference. That's probably all they know anyway."
Luna's potions lived up to their reputation. The knights' severe wounds visibly healed at a rapid pace.
They'd survived Camille's strike by luck, but whether this outcome was what they wanted remained to be seen.
Clunk!
After Duke Camille and the Four Star Knight Order withdrew, Miron carefully opened the lid of the box he'd kept tightly sealed.
The interior revealed.
A middle-aged woman, gracefully touched by the years, slumbered peacefully within.
Stimulating the artificially blocked mana circuits, he gradually roused her from her induced pseudo-sleep.
"Umm...?"
Rocked by the forced awakening, she struggled to move even as her mind cleared.
"M-Mother!! Are you awake?!"
At that moment, the voice she'd longed to hear—even in dreams—tickled her ears, and she strained to open her eyes.
As the world's light pierced her eyelids, she instinctively closed them again.
Fear that this desperately desired moment might all be a dream.
"Mother!! Mother!! Please open your eyes! It's me, your daughter Luna...!!"
"...!!"
Not a dream. No illusion. The very voice she'd yearned for kept caressing her ears.
Her retinas, opened with desperate hope, filled with her beloved daughter's face.
'Did I really... escape that hell...?'
Suddenly, she recalled the young man who had appeared out of nowhere in her prison cell.
The youth who had stormed the continent's most impregnable fortress—Ballista itself—and rescued her.
'How can I ever repay this grace...'
Luna's mother, Annette, was at a loss amid an gratitude that seemed impossible to repay in a lifetime.
"Alright, touching family reunion ends here. Sorry, but we've still got a ways to Banten, Archbishop Luna."
"W-Wait! We haven't even talked properly...!"
"You can chat all you want after we arrive. I've confirmed she's healthy with my own eyes anyway."
"...?"
What kind of conversation was this?
Before she could grasp the context from her daughter's words, the silhouette of the youth who had come to save her entered her view.
"Now, madam. I'll ensure you rest comfortably until we arrive."
"...W-Wai..."
Annette wanted to say something, but she couldn't.
The youth lightly pressed points on her body, and the demon of sleep overwhelmed her without mercy.
Putting the brief mishap(?) behind us, we crossed the Urk Plains under the escort of Arandal, Beskin, and the Blizzard Knight Order, and familiar walls came into view.
Banten's outer walls.
At the forefront of the ramparts.
A man stood unmoving, gazing at the plains, his massive tower shield—reaching his waist—propped beside him.
Our eyes met, and I cautiously dipped my head in a slight bow.
'Have you achieved all you sought?'
'Yes, somehow.'
'No dangers?'
'Thanks to Sir Arandal, fortunately.'
'Then that's enough.'
No words were needed; the exchange in our gazes conveyed everything.
The journey to Vatican, begun in the spring of his nineteenth year, at last drew its grand curtain as late summer approached.