Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Grand Duke's Heir Has Run Away
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<On the Road to Polkin Gate>
I arrived in the desert city of Braam with big sis Armida via a spatial transfer portal.
Braam was a city of 150,000 people situated between Kara and Polkin Fortress. Though not as wealthy as Kara and with far fewer inhabitants, its influence over all the Great Desert tribes was immense. That was because Braam governed the Opis River—where the Sika tribe was most densely populated—and oversaw the vast Western Great Plains stretching endlessly to the northwest.
The Sika population in this region alone numbered at least two million. Braam served as their economic hub and sovereign state.
And the river visible to the east of Braam right now was none other than the Opis River, the lifeblood of the Western Great Plains. It originated in the northern icy lands, flowed past the western outskirts of the distant southern coastal city of Asad, and emptied into the sea.
'What's that?'
Standing atop the portal tower's observation deck, I gazed at the endless paved road stretching eastward. A long procession of wagons stretched along it, piled high with construction materials like underground aqueduct pipes, bricks, and gravel.
'Ah, war preparations. Kara really is surrounded by enemies on all sides.'
The greatest obstacle in the upcoming war between the Kingdom of Robros and Kara would be the Devil's Trade Route, which lay a full month's journey away. The reason was simple: the barren wasteland desert spanning the entire route offered scarcely any water sources or fodder that humans and warhorses could consume.
Under those conditions, resupply was impossible. There wouldn't even be enough food for the combat troops, let alone hay and water for the transport horses.
Hence the need for aqueduct construction and road paving projects. They had to provide water for the supply trains at minimum and pave proper roads to prevent getting lost in the Great Desert and enable swift movement.
'And Braam's the one handling this construction. Those stingy bastards.'
Braam and Kara were rival cities here.
Braam dominated the Western Great Plains, while Kara controlled the Great Desert trade routes. For ages, both had been leveraging their power and wealth to extend their influence over surrounding city-states and tribes, all in pursuit of unifying the entire Great Desert.
The problem was their locations: they bordered each other east-west, with the Devil's Trade Route smack in between. Being so close left no room for further expansion, and the route's harsh natural environment made conquering the other by war a daunting prospect.
As a result, the Great Desert's two strongest powers—Kara and Braam—remained locked in endless conflict and animosity, their grand dream of desert unification nothing more than idle summer fancies.
Hell, they just spouted empty diplomatic rhetoric. Unification? Fat chance. Things would drag on as they always had.
This construction project was probably born from that historical context. Overcome the Devil's Trade Route's harshness with paved roads and aqueducts, and Braam—with its superior military—could easily target Kara.
The issue was funding. Braam lacked the capacity for a project of this scale. It was just a modest desert city-state, after all.
Yet here they were, undertaking it—which proved someone was backing them.
The Kingdom of Robros, that's who.
The Kingdom of Robros, the second strongest power on Prosia Continent after rapidly imperializing through profits from the Great Desert trade routes and its vast, fertile lands, could easily foot the bill.
But why would Robros invest such massive construction funds in Braam? To recoup more than that by conquering Kara? Or because they fancied Braam's local lord?
Neither.
Robros's true aim in attacking Kara was Great Desert colonization. They needed not just Kara's wealth, but its position as overlord of the desert—hence the war.
But Braam was one of the desert's twin powers. If Robros struck Kara, they'd have to strike Braam too. Braam ruled the Western Great Plains, after all. To claim the entire desert intact, Robros had to eliminate both Kara and Braam.
'They're so fixated on the prey right in front of them, they can't see the tiger at their backs. What a pity.'
At that moment, big sis Armida approached me with a troubled look.
"Hey, little bro?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm not sure if I should even take this commission."
"Why not?"
"I'm a Valkyrie, remember?"
"And?"
"Valkyries aren't supposed to meddle in worldly affairs."
I scratched behind my ear with my index finger. This was a problem now that we'd come all this way. The extra portal fee for bringing her along had cost a whopping four gold leaves.
"So what can you meddle in?"
"Hunting monsters, spreading the faith, or searching for Sabondia who left the sky city Chronos—stuff like that?"
"Then you're good."
"Huh? Why?"
"Because taking this commission counts as searching for your friend. I told you before, right? Handling info broker jobs builds a human network, and through that, we can find your friend. Forgot?"
"I heard you, but... is it really possible?"
"Of course."
"How?"
I shrugged.
"That's how the world works. No matter how unrelated two people are, skip a few degrees of separation and they're connected. Probably just four or five hops, and you've linked everyone in the world. Your friend's gotta be in there somewhere."
"Really?"
"Yep. So we build the network, grease palms with commission earnings, and others will find your friend for us."
Big sis Armida's face lit up.
"Then I guess it's fine. Got it."
"Alright, let's head down. We need to get to Polkin Gate quick."
As I started down the spiral stairs from the portal tower, big sis Armida stopped me.
"Little bro. No portal?"
"Nah. No portal tower at Polkin Gate."
"Why not?"
"Major fortresses don't build them. Enemies could teleport in for a surprise attack."
Armida gave a curious look.
"Is that the same reason Divinum Holy Land doesn't have one?"
"No, that's because it's holy ground. A sacred, divine place—teleporting in would just be rude, y'know?"
"Oh, right?"
I kept waving her down from the stairs below.
"Anyway, hurry up. No time to waste."
But big sis Armida held her ground.
"Why walk? Don't you know who I am?"
"Yeah, a Valkyrie."
"Then you know I can use spatial transfer magic?"
Spatial transfer magic was an 8th-circle high-difficulty spell for crossing vast distances. Its casting was incredibly complex, and the mana formulas were nightmarish—most mages wouldn't even attempt it.
I stammered a bit.
"Uh, probably..."
"Good. I'll zap us right to Polkin Gate."
I eyed big sis Armida with narrowed gaze.
Truth be told, I hadn't taken the expensive portal because I couldn't use spatial magic myself. I simply didn't trust hers.
One slip, and we'd embed in the ground or pop out in a thundercloud. No way was I relying on that. I'd sooner ride a chariot pulled by raging wild horses.
"Got the coordinates?"
"Nope. But I can check the coordinate tome."
"From when?"
"Probably around the dawn of human civilization...?"
That meant at least thousands of years old. Translation: high risk of fusing with a building or tree upon arrival.
"Pass."
"Aw, it'll be fine. Hold on..."
Big sis Armida rummaged frantically through her subspace pouch. Moments later, she gave up with an awkward grin and followed me obediently, stealing glances and whistling off-key. She'd clearly forgotten the tome somewhere.
'I'd have to be insane to rely on her spatial magic.'
Soon after exiting Braam's west gate, I summoned my Black Crooked Horse at the bridge over the Opis River. It was a six-day walk to Polkin Gate at normal pace, but at full gallop on the Black Crooked Horse, we'd arrive in half a day.
Big sis Armida pulled out a giant essence and summoned her own mount. It resembled my Black Crooked Horse overall, but curiously, black smoke in the shape of wings wafted from its flanks.
I glanced back and forth between my Black Crooked Horse and hers.
"Sis? Something's off."
"What?"
"Yours looks way cooler for some reason. You didn't cheat me with a downgraded version, did you? I'd be crushed. Not cool between us, right?"
Big sis Armida averted her eyes.
"No way~ They're identical. Why else would they have the same name? This one's a Black Crooked Horse too."
"Sure?"
"Yep."
"Then what's with the wings?"
"Oh, just accessories. Pretty, huh?"
"Yeah? So it won't suddenly flap off and launch you into the sky or anything?"
"Dunno. Been so long since I rode, memory's fuzzy. Probably not."
Seeing her still dodging my gaze, I sighed in dismay.
"Fine. I'll trust you for now. Let's go."
"Yeah. Gotta hurry."
We spurred our mounts into a swift gallop. But something felt weird. Her horse occasionally lifted all four hooves off the ground, sliding forward like it was skating.
'Looks like it matches the description...'
After racing like this for a while, the Apogium Mountains appeared in the distance like a long, thin line.
I gazed fondly at the Apogium Mountains, gradually revealing their majesty. Spanning hundreds, even thousands of meters with endless cliffs and peaks, this range currently bordered Prosia Continent and the Great Desert. But in the future Age of Ruin, it would serve as a bulwark, halting the monster hordes pouring from the desert.
'Polkin Gate. Been a while.'
Soon, Polkin Gate itself came into view as a tiny dot.
This natural impregnable fortress—210 meters long, 90 meters high, 60 meters wide, carved into the cliffs—was said to have been created by the Grand Saintess of Earth who once visited long ago.
True or not, that rampart would hold off the monster legions for quite some time in the Age of Ruin, earning it recognition as a holy bastion of protection for Prosia's people.
'I wonder how Duke Bastain's doing. Miss the old man after a couple years.'
Duke Bastain was the great general who led the Kingdom of Robros to its zenith—and the future supreme commander of its army against Kara.
Ironically, I'd met him before. During the Polkin Gate siege in the Age of Ruin, as commander of the Polkin Gate forces and deputy commander of the Yosrahim Empire reinforcements. I'd been tasked with building walls to block a monster detour route, but it kept breaking, earning me heaps of flak from the duke.
And that guy was a genuine war genius, meticulous to a fault.
From troop deployments and required supplies to terrain advantages and risks, even weather impacts on the battle—he factored it all in. As his intel officer receiving reports, I felt like he had the enemy on strings. Dig a trap, and they'd tumble right in; start a fight, and they'd crumble on their own.
Even Grandpa Cloud had this to say about him:
'There's no gain in allying with that man. Better to just fight him.'
Once Duke Bastain started a war, it was already over. The enemy resisted desperately, but he merely harvested the victory he'd orchestrated.
And he shone brightest at the Polkin Gate siege.
Prosians first confronted the monster grand army here in the Age of Ruin, and Bastain held for over a year. Unable to breach the only pass over the Apogium Mountains, the horde detoured massively through the Northern Orc Great Plains, buying Prosia precious preparation time. That event was a key reason Prosia endured the Age of Ruin for over two years.
But even this flawless duke had one weakness: the jealous old king of Robros.
As my little brother Yosef had put it: great generals are heroes to the people but thorns to the powerful. Why? Because they possess most kingly qualities—administration, popular support, military might. Even my uncle the emperor despised Grandpa Cloud for that reason. Though in my past life, I got plenty of love.
<End: On the Road to Polkin Gate>