Chapter 103
Chapter 103
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: Core of the Storm
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*
It might not have been the most pleasant thing for Fernandez to hear, but the fierce battle—hailed among the beastkin warriors as the "clash of two heroes"—had come to an end. The two of them were surrounded by countless warriors, sharing drinks amid a uproar bordering on ecstasy.
The night in the Great Wilderness was cool, with a clear sky stretching high above. Countless stars shimmered beyond the night sky, too brilliant to be veiled by the light of campfires and bonfires.
A clear, dry wind blew. The boisterous night carried the scent of sizzling meat grease mingled with alcohol. Fernandez took a sip of strong fruit liquor, rolling it around in his mouth.
The sharp aroma numbed his sensitive sense of smell. Amid it all, his eyes met Darian's.
Darian was buried among the warriors, laughing heartily and chatting away. He smiled and mouthed the words.
*Come see me for a bit?*
Sure, Fernandez rinsed his tongue with the liquor and rose from his seat. Watching his retreating figure head toward the tent, Partak snickered.
*
"Huuu, I'm gonna die."
"You're not even drunk."
"Of course, circulating mana makes drunkenness nothing at all. But wouldn't that ruin the mood, friend?"
"Have we already become friends?"
"Of course."
Darian laughed without malice. They had entered the dimly lit tent. Fernandez brewed some tea and sat at the side table.
"Have some. No poison."
"Even if there was, what does it matter."
Darian laughed heartily and downed the tea in one gulp. *Clack*, he set the empty cup down on the table ostentatiously, then slowly opened his eyes. The mirth had vanished from them.
"Tell me your name."
"Didn't I say I'd tell you if you beat me?"
"Then conversely, if I guess your name correctly, will that count as my victory?"
"What do you want?"
"Be my sworn brother."
". . .What?"
Darian gazed at Fernandez with a smileless face.
"If my guess is right, you're younger than me. You can't be my elder brother, can you?"
"That's not what I meant. Are you suggesting we call each other brother?"
"Exactly that. Alberto."
Fernandez's movements froze. The air in the tent grew chillingly still. Darian's gaze sharply pierced his eyes.
"Impressive. Care to hear the reasoning?"
"The Great Wilderness is rife with rumors, nonsense, and extravagant legends. A barbaric place. You know that. I am the Emperor's eyes. The reason I'm in this wilderness isn't for wandering or a pleasure trip."
"Did you come looking for me?"
"Not the goal, but a reason, yes."
Darian tilted the teapot over his own cup, pouring tea. *Drip drip*, the dark red liquid sloshed inside.
"At first, strange rumors reached us. The balance we in the Empire had painstakingly crafted with such care began to unravel. I heard that walker outbreaks had erupted across the entire Fairn Kingdom, threatening the royal family's very existence."
"And?"
"Just as we thought the walker crisis was barely contained, the elven maritime kingdom abandoned its port cities and relinquished its maritime dominance. Gods appearing, dragons appearing—along with such outlandish rumors."
Fernandez silently regarded Darian. Darian's eyes gleamed fiercely. A hero's eyes. No, the Emperor's eyes. A gaze carrying the intimidating pressure befitting the Emperor's judge and sharpest spear.
Yet, still young. Fernandez had survived decades as enemies of men with such eyes, and the current Darian was little more than an unripe youth.
However.
However, a hero was a hero.
"Our Empire pricked up its ears. The Eastern Kingdom Alliance was on the verge of collapse. With the war against the Sultanate already dragging on indecisively, losing the alliance's support would turn the tide disastrously against us. Fairn was on the verge of declaring war on the Dane royal family."
You know that as well. Darian said this as he poured tea into his cup. *Slosh*, the liquid filled to the brim, wavering unsteadily. Yet Darian did not avert his gaze from Fernandez.
"The Dane royal family was laughably inept. Disputes among the throne's successors, and an old king who paid no heed to governance. Give Fairn the slightest pretext, and the kingdom would crumble immediately. That is, if not for one young knight who suddenly appeared and ascended to the Round Table."
". . ."
"Who could it be? Can you guess? In such turmoil, the man who accomplished the feat of holding the Eastern Kingdom Alliance together—who else?"
"Not the King of Dane, the Knight King Vicente?"
"At that time, Vicente was nothing more than a puppet who could have been ousted at any moment."
*Drip.*
Tea overflowed from the cup onto the side table.
"All of our Empire's intelligence agencies were dispatched posthaste. We had to grasp the situation. Information was sorely lacking. Rumors swirled everywhere about a young knight of unknown origin and background. A knight chosen by Shild. The reincarnation of the founding king, the great knight who slew a revived giant and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with dragons. And then, he vanished like smoke."
After a pause.
"Like smoke. We wondered if this was sophisticated political propaganda. Perhaps rumors deliberately fabricated by King Vicente, whose political position was weak, to solidify his throne? But there was something odd. The Shild Church sent a formal letter of protest to the Beitasser Church, and in the Dane royal family—which had made Shild its state religion—the Beitasser Church's influence began expanding rapidly."
Conveniently, a parchment map lay on the side table. One Fernandez had scribbled on while devising strategies. Darian dipped his finger in the spilled tea and marked the Eastern Kingdom Alliance's encampment. *Poke*.
"Our intelligence lords came up with a provocative hypothesis. What if this unidentified 'Alberto' was a man of the Beitasser Church?"
And then.
"A blade of Beitasser hiding its identity and operating in the shadows. A code name from the Inquisition? Reports said the knight was remarkably young. Young, and possessing overwhelming prowess. A figure the Beitasser Church cherished. Someone connected to Dane Kingdom. A noble-born individual who could fully exploit the political situation."
Staring straight at Fernandez.
"A year and a half ago, rumors spread of Beitasser's saint appearing. In a remote mountain region of Dane Kingdom. Too distant and fleeting a rumor for our intelligence to fully grasp. We barely learned your name, friend."
". . .Impressive."
Fernandez smiled genuinely. A slow smile rose on Darian's stern face.
"Fernandez Cerned."
"Correct."
"Good. Little brother. Aren't you curious about what comes next?"
"Next?"
"After identifying you, the plan our intelligence lords devised."
Fernandez quietly regarded Darian. Darian grinned and dabbed tea on the map again. The [Crusade Knights'] encampment.
"It's hard to believe, but assuming 'that man' was at the center of events from the Fairn incident through the Dane royal succession—or at least played a minimal role in linking them—our intelligence posed a hypothesis. 'A manufactured saint.' In other words, a scheme by the Beitasser Church to heap achievements on him, elevate him to the surface, and blur the indivisible principle of politics and religion in the material world."
"A bold conjecture."
"I thought so too. Pure speculation. But what if it's true? If he rises as the sole symbol commanding presence over the entire Eastern Kingdom Alliance? If the alliance is fully unified, it could birth a theocratic new kingdom eyeing our Empire's stronghold."
"So, you planned to assassinate him?"
"There was internal opposition. If killing him were exposed, the backlash? Our official stance was 'hold off.' Until one intelligence team leader went rogue."
". . .Angela. . ."
"Right."
Angela. Code name Angela. Selena Kaselhof. Darian poked a corner of the Great Wilderness. Mosat City.
"The beacon incident in Mosat City was beyond our expectations. The bigger issue is that Selena didn't get what she wanted. She probably aimed to awaken the pharaoh slumbering below. And deal with you as a bonus. Strike Kirzart's rear with the pharaoh's authority to lead the war to victory? Naturally, ripe for promotion. If it had succeeded."
"Yes. If it had."
"If you hadn't dealt with the pharaoh down there. The pharaoh died, the plan failed, and instead, a stimulated Kirzart greatly constricted our Empire's borderlines."
"And you're saying that wench awakened all the pharaohs to sow chaos?"
"Exactly. Better to burn the entire Great Wilderness than hand victory to Kirzart."
As a result, Darian *slapped* the map. The side table shook slightly, the cup rattling.
"Look at this situation. The Crusade Knights are Beitasser's polite letter of protest. They're advancing, burning every area with signs of heresy, friend or foe alike. Even to Empire citizens. And who leads the Eastern Kingdom Alliance's reinforcements?"
"Not a Round Table knight, by chance?"
"Spot on. Round Table knight, Pafnarmere. The rising great lord of Altheis. The knight order he leads is smashing straight toward Mosat City, pulverizing every obstacle in between. Utter chaos."
And finally, Darian's eyes locked onto Fernandez.
"Do you know what Beitasser's inquisitors are like? Under the pretext of hunting heretics, they're tearing through this Great Wilderness like madmen. One of the biggest reasons our Empire's forces can't advance. Eastern Kingdoms, Crusade Knights, Inquisition. They all want one thing right now."
The saint's survival.
"You're the core of the storm."
"Thanks for the summary. I needed the intel. So, what do you want from me? You didn't need this childish sworn brothers play."
"A deal."
"A deal?"
Fernandez's eyebrow twitched. Darian glanced toward the tent flap and spoke.
"My subordinate is a capable mage. She saw you and was shocked, saying you're an extremely high-level black mage. Surprising, isn't it? That Beitasser's saint and a Round Table knight is simultaneously a high-ranking black mage."
"Did you think you could figure that out and leave this camp alive?"
Fernandez said lightly. But it was threat enough, heavy and menacing. Darian shrugged.
"That's why, little brother, I'm asking for sworn brotherhood banking on your goodwill. I've shown all my cards, and grasped all of yours. My intelligence, my abilities, and my authority as the Emperor's closest confidant. How about it? No harm in making me your brother?"
"Let's hear the rest of the terms."
"Stop the war. The Eastern Kingdoms' rampage, the Church's rampage, the Inquisition's rampage."
Darian's eyes gleamed heartily. An impossible-to-hate man. Even holding cards that could throttle Fernandez's neck right now. Even holding a joker card that could trigger massive political waves if hidden and taken back.
Darian laid down all those cards to gain 'goodwill.' He called it a deal, but it wasn't. It was a plea banking purely on Fernandez's goodwill.
A straightforward request, setting aside his advantages. The intent was clear: a simple desire to befriend Fernandez. So, he couldn't be hated. In fact, Fernandez felt a pang of greed now.
*The world's strongest material being becomes sworn brothers with the destined hero...*
*This... is good?*
Even Feizashi swallowed hard, seeing the potential in this upright man. Fernandez suppressed his smile with effort and spoke.
"So what does this 'little brother' gain?"
"Vengeance and justice, and peace. I'll bring you Angela. That traitor. Selena Kaselhof's head."
"Bring her alive."
Fernandez gazed at Darian's outstretched hand for a moment, then clasped it firmly. This was no mere promise between one man, one hero. It was a secret pact with the Empire.
And simultaneously, Fernandez examined the map. The Great Wilderness's layout was drawn more simply. Even the small cracks that had formed amid it.
The path for the beastkin alliance. The season of the hunt. Great chieftain Kirhas. A new icon rising in the western wilderness.
Fernandez smiled slowly, deeply. Good. He'd play along on that board. But he never committed to just one move at a time.
Even when pondering on a grander chessboard, he never bet on a single move. For he was one of the fifteen archfiends who had destroyed the world.
The hero who had clasped that archfiend's hand laughed heartily.