Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Chapter 34
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Dragon Mountains and Imperial Pursuit
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Continentals, when speaking of forbidden lands, count only a few regions on their fingers.
The Forest of Demonic Beasts, the Punish Archipelago swarming with pirates, and the like.
But the vast majority point to the Dragon Mountains as the worst of them all.
A massive range located beyond the Forest of Demonic Beasts, the Dragon Mountains was a realm truly beyond human ken.
The monsters dwelling in the Forest of Demonic Beasts were, in truth, nothing more than the weaklings cast off from the Dragon Mountains' main current.
In fact, the heart of the Dragon Mountains crawled with terrifying beasts whose very natures remained unknown to mankind.
And there existed exactly one human territory that faced this Dragon Mountains head-on.
The western borderlands of the Holy Empire.
The monsters of the Dragon Mountains were kept busy squabbling among themselves, but every so often, some would venture south into human realms.
By the mountains' standards, it was a negligible number—but even that posed a substantial threat to humanity.
At the heart of those western borderlands stood Ballista, the key stronghold and a natural fortress.
The Holy Empire's current emperor was no fool.
He would never place an incompetent halfwit in charge of such a vital post.
Duke Camille.
One of the Empire's three dukes and a Radiant Blade, presumed to rank among the continent's eleven thrones.
A few days before Jerome and his group arrived in Zaun...
The great swordsman whose renown echoed across the continent was conversing with someone via a communication orb delivered by a subordinate.
"Haha, well now. For Her Highness the Princess to reach out personally... Looks like my luck's holding today."
Wearing a genial smile, Duke Camille accepted the transmission from Third Imperial Princess Ibarella.
-I'm sorry I haven't been in touch more often—too much work on my plate.
"Hahaha! Nonsense, Your Highness. The world you envision is the very one we all dream of. How could I not understand you're busier than a person with two bodies could manage?"
Duke Camille waved off the notion, brandishing the sword in his grip.
"Whereas roughnecks like me just need to swing this blade diligently. Haha!"
-What you're doing, Duke, is the most essential step toward realizing that dream.
The Third Princess's words were no mere platitude.
Duke Camille's prowess defied dismissal as simple sword-swinging.
Through the orb, Ibarella glimpsed where Camille sat.
-...And from where I stand, your duties don't look easy in the slightest.
Duke Camille's location was no office. He lounged haphazardly atop a towering stack of something.
That heap? A mound of corpses from the Dragon Mountains' fiercest monsters.
"Heh, to each their strengths—it's all relative. Hmm, now then."
Duke Camille was no idiot. Quite the opposite: exceptionally sharp.
"Your Highness didn't call just to exchange pleasantries. Something's come up?"
Ibarella was a visionary plotting the Empire's dominion over the entire continent.
She sought him for cause.
-There was an interloper.
"An interloper?"
-I had the rest of the northern continent ripe for the taking, but one unforeseen pest crawled in.
"The nerve! Which fool dared irk Her Highness?"
The northern continent incorporation had to mean the elf princess abduction.
Camille felt his interest piqued.
The Third Princess was undervalued for her youth and sex, but he and the other two dukes—along with countless retainers—knew better.
She alone possessed the qualities to elevate the Empire to unrivaled continental supremacy.
No plan of hers had ever failed.
Yet someone had meddled. Camille burned with curiosity.
-The third son of the Carviot count family—the Shield Family's so-called bug.
"...Pardon?"
Camille forgot all decorum at the stunning reply.
"Er, um. Your Highness... Age must be dulling my hearing. Haha."
He tapped his ears briefly before pressing Ibarella again.
"The third son of the Carviot count family, was it? I must've misheard."
-...Correct.
"...Hmm. Rumors astray, perhaps. I heard Bacchus's blessed heirs stopped at the second."
Camille stroked his chin left-handed, head cocked repeatedly.
The Shield Family relentlessly blocked the Holy Empire's southern advances.
They tracked them obsessively—even, in exaggeration, the tissue color Bacchus used for his ablutions.
To that end, the Empire had embedded spies over an uncharacteristically long span.
He knew precisely who that third son was.
-Your Grace understands my shock. I reacted the same on first report. But the deed is done.
Ibarella spoke resolutely.
-That intel's obsolete now.
Camille smoothed his doubt. If she declared it so, it was.
"Very well, Your Highness—if you say it's wrong, then it is. So, why contact me?"
Ibarella nodded beyond the crystal.
-The elf princess hasn't reached the Forest of Demonic Beasts yet. From your borderlands, interception's feasible.
"I see."
Camille grasped it instantly. The route from Sharon to the forest favored his pursuit.
-Best if Your Grace handled it personally... but that's impossible, yes?
Camille's face clouded at her insinuating tone.
"Emotionally, I'd dash off at your word, but..."
He glanced downward.
"As you see, winter starves them—monsters pour endlessly from the Dragon Mountains. My absence risks catastrophe for Ballista."
Predictable.
-...Understood. Shame, but can't be helped. No sense wielding a dragon-slayer on a chick—or mouse pup.
Aware of his straits, Ibarella conceded and pivoted to Plan B.
-Then select fitting agents for pursuit, Your Grace. Slaughter all but the elf princess—they're worthless.
"As you command. Duties await—I'll withdraw."
Ibarella's nod ended the orb's glow.
'Hmm. Now how? Can't dispatch myself for Bacchus's runt alone.'
Importance might justify it, but knightly pride—and monsters aside—barred it.
'Nor the Fourth Holy Knight Order—that's extravagant waste.'
Single-digit orders were reserved daggers for Shield or Sword Family heads and limbs.
Not this.
Tok, tok.
Camille tapped his scabbard with an index finger amid the corpse pile, pondering.
Moments later, finger stilled. He addressed the adjutant with the orb.
"Count Mutant."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Count Mutant gulped and prostrated.
The tapping's end sealed fates.
"Send Tia. With Kazalim besides."
Count Mutant's eyes bulged.
"K-Kazalim as well? Begging pardon, but for a piddling small-nation count—even dubbed a bug—isn't that excessive force...?"
Camille chuckled at the query.
"Hahaha! Count, who'd have thought you bold enough to voice that to me."
Mutant's face drained white. Camille benevolent by default, but...
Princess matters tolerated no line crossed—roots uprooted.
"Mercy, Your Grace! I forgot my place! Grant forgiveness once!!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Mutant's brow split, blood streaming.
Undeterred, he hammered on.
"Count Mutant."
Camille watched, then called softly—no smile.
"One pardon only."
"...!!"
Mutant bellowed from his knees.
"All as Your Grace decrees!"
He bolted without a backward glance.
Mutant knew: half-hearted head-slams would've cost his.
Count or not, to Camille, he was disposable fodder.
Alone now, Camille turned capital-ward—Vatican—and murmured.
"All for His Majesty."
Till the continent's skies unified, interfering variables must vanish.
Whether His Majesty meant the emperor... or princess?
Time would tell.
During the Great War.
After the Holy Empire's surprise southward thrust crumbled the Five Nations Alliance, as it ravaged other kingdoms, one man tormented it relentlessly.
From the rear, with fellow ideologues, he harried the Empire's back endlessly.
The Holy Empire branded him contemptuously; continentals honored the beacon in grim tides.
Mad Warrior.
Later, as Stigma Mercenary Corps' linchpin—a prime anti-Empire force—he racked merits.
...That summed my knowledge of Miron.
Meager for our shared years, but inevitable.
Whenever past surfaced, he'd laugh it off, sparse on details.
Yet he'd endured more wretchedly than weeds, it seemed.
"Saladin, tail that vanishing kid. Scrutinize their life, theft motive—everything."
Saladin scowled thunderously.
"Ah, this prick's demoting me to full lackey now."
Rejection radiated from every pore.
I knew his handling.
"Mimi and Nene need upgrade stock, no?"
"...?! "
"Poison and pulverize mastered—perfect time for material swap on Mimi and Nene."
Saladin gaped ghostward.
"...How the hell do you know that...?"
Your training, overheard entire.
"None of your affair. Finish this, I'll fund the material shift. Pricey, aye?"
"...Off I go, Employer!"
Grumbles forgotten, Saladin plunged after the kid through the throng.
Uncommon kid or not, still a child.
Evading Saladin's 'Thread' trailed her? Tall order.
See you soon, Mad Warrior.
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