Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: Heroes Assemble
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*
At that moment, Kirhas Hearttaker was surrounded by tigerfolk warriors, deep in a raucous drinking party. The warriors were openly smitten with her looks, her charm, and her prowess—and from Kirhas's perspective, winning them over was likely exactly what Fernandez Cerned wanted.
“Kirhas, looks like we have a visitor.”
One warrior pointed toward the plaza, bottle in hand, his face flushed with heavy intoxication. In the distance, a human man wrapped in cloth and carrying a long staff was approaching them alongside a slender woman.
A human? Kirhas's eyes sharpened. In the Tigerfolk Alliance, the only humans—or at least those who appeared human—were Abel and Fernandez.
And that stranger's stride and presence were anything but ordinary. Kirhas's instincts, honed from crossing death's door countless times since childhood, were picking up on the danger.
“Greetings, heroes of the beastkin tigerfolk.”
The young man approached the bonfire with a cheerful grin. As the warriors' unease showed plainly, he spoke brightly.
“I'm a guest of Chief Bartlas. Couldn't just pass by when young heroes like you are gathered.”
“How did a human make it all the way out here?”
“I came looking for someone.”
The young man let out a hearty laugh. Meanwhile, the woman beside him scanned their surroundings with an uneasy glint in her eye. He fixed his gaze straight on Kirhas, who was sharing drinks in the midst of the warriors.
That young woman—she's their leader. The thought crossed his mind as he drew closer to her.
“With all the rumors, truths, and legends tangled up in the Great Wastelands right now, would you mind telling me your name, if it's not too rude?”
“Isn't it manners for a stranger to give his name first?”
As a warrior growled, the young man waved it off.
“My apologies. I'm Darian Shrike.”
*
Fernandez Cerned sat cross-legged in the dim tent, silently observing the camp. [Declaration of Cardia's Domain]. It was a high-level spell he hadn't used in ages.
He was watching the meeting chamber—or more precisely, the honey-gold eyes staring straight at him.
Pieranel of wisdom and truth. One of the most nightmarish angels from his past life. Fernandez recalled his clashes with her. She'd crushed every trap he'd prepared, every board he'd set, and every mental incursion he'd attempted in between.
‘Does she remember her past life?’
-She probably doesn't. If she did, things wouldn't have escalated this far.
‘Her power?’
-We’ll have to test it.
‘Hold on. That...?’
Fernandez flinched and tore his gaze from Piel. Someone utterly unexpected had entered his field of vision.
‘The Emperor’s... Eye!’
Darian Shrike, the Emperor’s Eye. The magpie knight. Sunlance! He was here in the camp right now. And heading straight for Kirhas.
He was no wild brute or sly schemer—he was a true hero. Even among the twisted ranks of human champions, he stood out as impeccably upright and righteous. As long as you didn't cross the Emperor's will, that is.
But like all young heroes, he burned with a fierce rivalry toward the strong. Fernandez watched Kirhas and Darian face each other.
‘Legend meets legend.’
In his past life, Kirhas and Darian's first encounter had been during their primes, amid the Great Northern Advance of Karadskahr. Fernandez slowly uncrossed his legs, fingers twitching.
His body had stiffened from sustaining the spell for so long. But Kirhas and Darian couldn't clash yet. If they did, the unfinished Kirhas would surely lose.
Kirhas couldn't afford to lose yet. She hadn't fully established herself as the icon of the beastkin tigerfolk. The core of this plan was the title of “the Undefeated” Kirhas.
-It’s fine if you clash with him?
‘I’d like to try.’
Had he truly reached the level where he could face down the great hero who’d routed him countless times in his past life? Fernandez grinned wickedly.
‘So this is how heroes see the world.’
*
Piel felt the piercing gaze lift and broke out in cold sweat. The immense pressure—like a god looking down, dissecting her very soul.
As she panted quietly, Bartlas Goldenclock cautiously placed a hand on her head.
“You alright? Feeling ill?”
“I'm fine, Chief. More importantly...”
“Ah, right. The meeting.”
Bartlas faced the elders smirking uncomfortably at him.
“Fleeing in fear of a god won't make a good excuse. Give us something convincing.”
“What can we do? A god has truly returned. Kadan, the god of the hunt, has come back to our side.”
“So where is this ‘god’ of yours right now?”
Partak Blackfang smiled at the belligerent chief flexing his massive arm muscles. Their temperaments were opposites, but they belonged to the same faction: the Kirzart hawks. And Bartlas's tribe boasted exceptional combat prowess among them.
Winning him over could wait. For now, letting the plan flow smoothly was best. Partak slapped the table and stood.
“You'll want to see for yourself anyway. The Great Chief, unanimously elected by the current council of elders.”
“...Look at the council seats, Partak Blackfang. You think you can appoint a Great Chief like this? It'll spark civil war. Didn't think you favored that approach.”
“Turn blades on us? At a time like this? Unless you're suicidal, it's impossible.”
The map behind Partak flickered ominously in the torchlight. Kirzart's shrunken borders, the three pharaohs' frontiers. Farther out, the Empire and Eastern Kingdom Alliance frontlines.
Scattered among them, the emblems of beastkin tribes. Bartlas bared his fangs in a growl.
“Don't do something insane, Partak Blackfang. If we fracture now, it'll only end in ruin.”
“Aren't there just too many?”
“What?”
Partak pointed at the Great Wastelands map with a sinister chuckle.
“The Tigerfolk Alliance has around twenty tribes. Maybe it worked when the Emperor and Sultan amicably split the wastes, but now it's fractured into five, six—no, dozens of pieces. You think no chiefs harbor other ambitions? Not a single one sees this as an opportunity?”
“...”
As Bartlas fell silent, Partak cackled.
“The ones who were leaving have already gone, Bartlas Goldenclock. No matter our stance, they'd have left. Better this way—we know exactly who our enemies are now.”
“You and this damn fool council are the ones who stirred them up.”
“We have a divine messenger and an ancient god with us. Divine authority, that is. Can't accept the council? Then call us priests, Bartlas. Priests of the god of the hunt.”
Partak slammed the table.
“As of this moment, the council is no more. Bartlas Goldenclock. We are now the priesthood of the god of the hunt!”
“You mad bastards.”
“Come along. Time to meet the divine apostle.”
Partak and the elders stormed out of the tent. Bartlas approached Piel, who kept her head bowed silently.
“See anything?”
“Even if not all their words are true, there is genuine divinity. Great Chief. If we're not submitting to the Empire or the doves, this is our only option.”
“I don't like it. Who knows what fanatic shamans might pull. The Tigerfolk Alliance is finished. We're about to bare our fangs at each other.”
“As they say, Chief, it was bound to happen eventually. You must judge wisely. Now is the time to bow our heads.”
Bartlas grunted and left the tent.
*
“Seyri, what's with you since earlier?”
“There's an incredible mage here, Captain.”
Seyri kept scanning their surroundings from behind Darian. It was the most tense he'd ever seen her. She'd always matched his charges into the heart of battle, grumbling often but boldly nonetheless—a remarkably fearless mage.
And now, she glared around in full alert.
“I didn't even want to enter this camp. Walking into a master mage's prepared workshop unarmed isn't wise.”
“Unarmed?”
As Darian jiggled his spear lightly, Seyri shook her head.
“Not physical arms. Be careful, Captain.”
“Our deaths don't lie here, Seyri. If you're that worried, stick close behind me.”
Darian laughed heartily and clapped her shoulder. He turned to Kirhas and said,
“I want to challenge you. What do you say? Don't you feel the same?”
Kirhas eyed Darian's spear and his frame, pausing briefly. Could she win? Unlike the tribe warriors, this man reeked of true strength.
Her lord's sole command had been clear: never lose. It bound her. But... what did it matter?
Her blood boiled with rivalry. She yearned to cross blades with someone of his caliber.
“Of course! I'm all for it!”
“Before that.”
A low voice rumbled from behind Darian. Seyri let out a small gasp and grabbed his sleeve.
Darian slowly turned to the young man approaching from behind.
“How about you and me first? Emperor’s Eye.”
-Step.
Not far off, Fernandez Cerned strode straight toward him. A human youth. Black curly hair, blue eyes. A familiar face... Darian narrowed his eyes at him.
A powerhouse. Darian instinctively gauged Fernandez's stride and aura. Possibly even stronger than Kirhas. And he knows who I am.
“Captain, that's him.”
“...Huh?”
“The archmage.”
Seyri stared at Fernandez in terror. Darian blinked in confusion.
‘A warrior carrying two greatswords at his side—a mage scary enough to rattle Seyri?’
Was that possible? As Darian slowly unwound the cloth from his spear, he said,
“You're human?”
“Fortunately, still.”