Chapter 252
Chapter 252
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 253
Chapter Title: Winter's Anxieties
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Humans are animals of deficiency.
Greedy creatures who can't be satisfied with what they have and crave what they lack.
That greed has been the driving force behind human progress throughout history, but it's also the dangerous emotion that has led countless people to self-destruction.
And that same deficiency had firmly taken root in the hearts of the mighty sea commanders.
The overlords of the vast Southern Sea.
With mere human bodies, they had earned the moniker of forbidden ground alongside the Dragon Mountains, a place called the domain of those monstrous beasts.
Known as the great nobles of the sea, their islands overflowed with gold and jewels.
Rare liquors, delicacies, and beauties were theirs for the beckoning of a finger.
All-powerful.
They had attained everything the mortal world could offer, yet there was one thing that failed to satisfy their desires.
Land.
What good was the vast ocean?
There were no grand castles, no fertile farmlands.
Some might say they could farm the countless islands of the archipelago instead of pirating, but that was nonsense.
The salty soil of the islands couldn't grow wheat, the staple of the continentals.
Thus, they had always yearned for fertile land. For earth.
And now, the king had officially declared it.
A war—the chance to seize that land.
"Your Majesty! Please grant me and my Buccaneer Pirates the honor of leading the vanguard!"
Pardal shot to his feet the moment Balak finished his declaration, shouting at the top of his lungs.
The Olivia Navy's forces didn't even register in Pardal's mind.
A backwater kingdom domain at best. Even if they'd beaten a few small-fry from the islands lately, they weren't worth comparing to a commander like him.
'This is a chance I have to seize no matter what!'
Pardal's eyes gleamed. But for some reason, the king and the other commanders were looking at him with pitying gazes.
"The vanguard... is me. Done deal."
"What?!"
Omarli stated flatly, and Martel chimed in.
"Pardal, we already sent the letter. Omarli's taking the vanguard."
"What do you mean, what letter..."
"I decided it."
Balak cut off Pardal's protest.
"The Iron Maiden Pirates, experts in close-quarters combat, will shatter the enemy's morale at the front. Then Drake's Gardik Pirates in the center will punch through the crumbling lines and smash them utterly. The Buccaneer Pirates on the right flank and the Mermaid Pirates on the left will envelop them and cut off any retreat. That's what the letter said, right?"
'...Damn.'
It was a blunder born of not reading the letter properly in ages.
"That's why you always lose to Omarli."
"......!!"
Grind!
The king's brutally cold assessment.
But Pardal had no retort. He really hadn't read it.
"You're... beneath... me."
Pfft!
Omarli's mocking snicker crumpled Pardal's face in humiliation.
'...I'll make that letter-handling bastard wish he was dead.'
Daring to embarrass him like this. He wouldn't let it slide.
As Pardal ground his teeth at his innocent subordinate, the other three commanders were lost in their own thoughts.
The West Commander blank-faced, the South with a uneasy frown, and the East calmly reviewing the orders.
Balak watched them a moment before slowly rising.
"Push war preparations through the winter. Come next summer, I want to savor the continent's fruits."
No fool present misunderstood what that offhand fruit comment meant.
"Leave it to us!"
The commanders roared in unison.
Striding the archipelago as they did, this felt like it would be their longest, most thrilling winter yet. Murderous glee sparkled in their eyes.
All but one, that is.
Woooong!
Two beautiful women were channeling mana into two others with closed eyes.
Enchant.
A magic that imprinted spells onto objects, requiring absolute mastery of one's magic and keen mana control—far from easy.
How much time had passed?
"Phew! It's done, Saladin."
"Thank you. Lady Aria, Princess Seira. Despite your busy schedules, this favor... I won't forget it."
Saladin bowed deeply to Aria and Seira.
At his request, they had enchanted Mimi and Nene.
"Hee hee! It was nothing. But what wind blew this request your way? You've turned me down every time I offered before."
Aria aside, Seira had watched Saladin closely for a long time.
So she knew.
The usually dim-witted, playful Saladin allowed no one but himself to touch Mimi and Nene.
"This time, I have to do everything I can."
Seira swallowed hard at Saladin's calm resolve.
What if...?
"Hee hee! Then you owe us a reward. That butt of yours should suffice."
Seira expected Saladin to yelp 'Eek! Don't do this!' and jump away.
But instead...
"Very well."
Whoosh!
Saladin casually lifted his shirt and presented his rear. Seira's eyes bulged.
"W-Wait. I'm kidding, young master. Your reaction's off today...? Something wrong?"
At her concern over his uncharacteristic response, Saladin silently turned his head toward a certain direction.
"...Ah."
Now Seira understood.
Saladin's gaze pointed to Jerome's seclusion training room.
"Winter's already slipping away. Normally, he'd be out by now, lounging around. But this time... it's really tough for him. So I have to do whatever I can."
He wasn't alone. Rampa, Beskin, Miron, Misha—all were pushing their limits in their own ways.
"...Sorry, young master. I joked carelessly."
Seeing Seira downcast, Saladin forced a hearty laugh.
"Ha ha! What can you do? With that idiot about to shit his pants, I gotta do my part!"
Seira knew it was to bolster his own spirits.
Smack!
"Ow!"
A light sting grazed his rear.
"Hee hee, that'll do for today. Gotta go research magic with Lady Aria. Let's go, milady."
Seira linked arms with Aria and left, sticking her tongue out cutely at Saladin on the way.
"...Jeez. Can't rein that woman in."
Rubbing his reddened butt and face, Saladin turned back to Jerome's training room.
"Hurry up and come out, you bastard. Time's running out."
Then, a cold tingle tickled his nose. He scratched it absently.
"...Ah."
The first snow of the year.
For warm southern Olivia, snow meant winter had deepened.
Spring wasn't far off.
Kuuuung!
In Olivia's snowy back mountain.
"...Huuuuh."
A beautiful woman steadied her breath.
Behind her, an elder gazed approvingly at her handiwork.
"Splendid, Rampa. Among those who have reached the Jade Throne, few surpass you now."
"You're too kind, Master."
Rampa demurred, but Karma's praise was well-deserved.
The once-lush forest lay in utter ruin.
"Still, let's stop here. The kids are suffering enough in this chill."
Swoosh!
As Karma extended his hand, the devastated forest began to regenerate. Shattered trees, grass, and flowers sprouted anew, restoring it in moments.
"I want to train a bit more."
"Anxious, are you?"
Karma asked calmly at her stubbornness.
"...Not anxious. I just want to lighten my junior brother's burden, even a little. I owe him so much..."
"Is that all?"
"Pardon?"
"Hoh. Whether you haven't realized it yet or are hiding it, goodness."
Karma smiled knowingly.
"Don't worry too much. Your junior brother—my disciple—is no fool who can't fend for himself."
"I know. But this time... I'm a bit worried."
It had been over three months since Jerome entered seclusion.
The junior brother she knew accomplished anything.
That's why she worried. She'd never seen him struggle this long.
"Heh heh! No need. That boy was born with blood proven by history. He'll manage."
"...Will he? He will, right?"
Setting aside master-disciple ties, these were words from Azure Wing, pinnacle of the continent.
Rampa felt her anxiety ease unwittingly.
"So let's head back. My body's shivering—might catch a cold."
Karma exaggerated, but Rampa's face darkened at his visibly wasting frame.
Even with the World Tree's roots staving off decline, prolonged illness took its toll.
Her master's body was weakening, slowly but surely.
Beyond continental politics, to save him with Paeonia, they couldn't lose this war.
'Junior brother, come out soon. I'm worried.'
Whether for her master's health or something else, only Rampa knew.
Though as Karma said, she hadn't realized it yet.
A thousand times? No, counting held no meaning now.
Day and night blurred. Morning or night? With eyes closed in the sealed space, time's flow was unknowable.
Only the meal notes hitting triple digits past 150, and the chilling air signaling winter's end.
How many of Luna's potions? Countless.
Melt the inner core, heal the wounds with potion. Melt again, heal again.
Early on, five bottles a day. Now, sometimes none.
But wounds ran deeper now, harder to heal fully.
"Huuuuh..."
The ironclad inner core, like an impregnable fortress, was finally waning under relentless Earth assault over long years.
Yet as the end neared, resistance intensified.
The outer energy melted away, leaving only the wyvern's innate essence.
The cause of heart-world tremors when using its power—the final wall to breach.
Without subjugating this essence, all prior training was futile.
Just bloated mana. Useless against Balak.
Swipe!
Wiping blood from his mouth smeared sleeves with organ fragments and crimson.
Wounds from soul-level shocks rattling his heart-world.
A few more, and even Luna's potions couldn't save him.
But still.
"I have to do it."
No choice.
Woooong!
Eyes closed, slowly circulating Earth, Jerome's body enveloped in mingled gold and dark aura.
Slowly, his consciousness sank into the heart-world.
Jerome slowly opened his eyes in his submerged consciousness.
This wasn't the real world.
His heart-world, manifested by his mind.
Familiar with it, Jerome slowly turned his head.
In his view: walls impossibly thick and tall, defying worldly belief.
Overwhelming ramparts blotting the sky's end.
Human hands could never build such heights.
-You again. Don't you ever tire?
From the walls' edge came a rough, gloomy, savage voice.
No human tone.
Swipe!
Raising his gaze, Jerome saw a massive wyvern lounging bored atop the walls.
"Sorry, but tenacious leeches are my style."
-Give up. You can never claim me.
The wyvern urged surrender again, but if Jerome would yield so easily, he'd never have started.
"You already know I won't."
As Jerome assumed stance, the wyvern's lips curled viciously.
-Then I'll kill you once more!
Flap!
The wyvern unleashed crushing pressure from the walls.
A fittingly majestic monster ruling a quarter of the Dragon Mountains.
Toppling its prideful self was easy; true submission from the depths? Exquisitely hard.
But still.
'I'll do it.'
Grip!
Fists clenched, the wyvern dove from the walls toward Jerome.
Kwaaaaaang!