Chapter 129
Chapter 129
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: Butterfly's Dream (7)
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*
Sometime ago, there had been a conversation like that. Every moment spent together was so blissful that she wondered if such days could truly be permitted to someone like her. Held in his arms, she had whispered those words.
What expressions had they worn? She, and he. Fernandez thought back as he gently stroked the sleeping Aria's hair. Neither of them could have looked particularly pleasant.
Fernandez touched his loosening lips while gazing at Aria's face. Moonlight streamed through the open shutters, illuminating her features.
"I thought the same."
At first, the emotions he held for her had been closer to attachment and possessiveness. Now, in these hazy predawn hours when time itself seemed adrift, the feelings that stirred as he looked upon her were regret, apology, and remorse.
Did he deserve happiness? Yes. At least she did. Every moment with him could be filled to overflowing with the best days he could offer her.
But he...
"Preparations are complete, Brother."
A hissing voice echoed from behind him. Fernandez touched his face without turning around. When he lowered his hand, only cold, sharpened eyes and a twisted, icy smile remained.
"Bring it."
"Yes, Brother..."
-Clink.
A small scroll was placed on the desk where Fernandez sat. The man handed it over with his gaunt hand, bowed respectfully, and retreated.
"Get out."
"Then, we shall meet at headquarters, Brother."
Just as he had appeared, the man vanished without a sound. Haramr. A high-ranking assassin from the devil-worshipping group, the [Shadows of Enhari]. Now, he was ensnared by Fernandez's binding, reduced to a puppet assassinating his former comrades on command.
Malédica was a gathering of such wretches. Fernandez unfurled the scroll Haramr had left behind with cold eyes.
*
[Special Operation: Web Cleanup]
Operation Area: Great Wilderness, Outskirts of Mosat City, 11th Checkpoint.
Operation Summary: Rendezvous with the Beastkin Federation's Great Chieftain, Kirhas Hearttaker. Secure the Order's holy relic and investigate the ancient ruins in the area.
Operation Task Force: Malédica Feizashi Wildcast. [Redacted] Below.
Voice Code: [Redacted]
We shall burn the devils, the heretics, the witches.
Final Approval: Abbot Marco Sundail of St. Bartholomew Monastery.
[Document self-destruct in: (15 seconds) remaining.]
*
Fernandez tossed the scroll into the air. It hadn't been a formal operation proposal expecting final approval, but it had succeeded nonetheless.
-Whoosh.
The scroll ignited midair, vanishing without even ash. The eerie afterimage of blue flames lingered on his retinas.
'Until Karadskarr's great northern advance, at most five years.'
In the Great Wilderness, where the Emperor and Sultan's 70-year war raged on, the only wildcard capable of resolving the crisis was the Tigerkin Federation, which had declared neutrality in the conflict.
At this time, the Tigerkin Federation thrived under the iron grip of its Great Chieftain, who had successfully ended a long civil war.
Soon, the Hundred Demon Tribes' great northern push would begin, and they had to grant wings to the one who would stand against that colossal war blazing from the continent's southernmost tip toward the northeast.
To end events more effectively, more swiftly. So that when the material world finally hurtled toward apocalypse, the world would still have the strength left to overcome it.
'I'll do my utmost to show you.'
Fernandez looked down at Aria, who smacked her lips in her sleep. He would give her a life where she could study as she pleased, eat what she craved, and rest when she wished, without a care.
A pristine material world free of wars, devils, or heresies. It needed no salvation from the world. All that mattered was her living happily in a saved world.
So, to you, I will show only flower-strewn meadows and hills kissed by warm breezes. I will give you only perfect gardens and the world's most peaceful slumber.
The world's filth and manure—I alone will bear them. This time, just this once, I will not let you see such a world.
'That is the atonement I offer you, Aria.'
-Rustle.
Fernandez stroked the sleeping Aria's cheek, then turned and slipped out of the room.
*
The Great Wilderness had never, in all of history, achieved true peace at any moment. The closer it drew to modern civilization, the fiercer the conflicts and chaos became.
In this era, with the Emperor and Sultan playing their interminable chess game across the Great Wilderness, there was one sector alone—one neutral zone deliberately ignored by both camps.
"Great Chieftain!!"
A hulking ronin beastkin youth raised his battered spear and shouted. He dashed forward almost flying, then flung himself flat on the ground.
-Clack.
Sharp heels, a slender ankle and calf approached and halted before him. The ruler of the Beastkin Tigerkin Federation—a power even the two continental superpowers hesitated to drag onto their chessboard.
"Speak."
A sharp, resolute voice flowed down from above the ronin youth's head. Sweat beaded on his brow as he bowed even lower.
"They've come!"
-Click.
A metallic click was accompanied by the thick scent of oil. The youth twitched his nose and peeked up slightly. In the noon glare of the Great Wilderness, backlight cast a shadow where a woman puffed on a thick cigar.
-Flutter.
A fierce wind whipped in, billowing her black cloak. The beast pelt cloak gleamed with luster as it thrashed in the gust. Her standing attendant carefully lit it for her with a cautious hand.
"Hoo..."
The acrid tobacco stench stabbed the youth's nose. Through the smoke drifting from her lips, turquoise eyes gleamed with fierce intensity. Overwhelmed, the youth slammed his head back to the ground.
"How close?"
"They're passing the settlement entrance now!"
"Bring them straight to me. Prepare to receive the guests."
"Shall I set out drinks, or refreshments?"
"Hmm."
-Exhale.
Smoke dispersed once more. The woman smirked coldly and turned away. Her attendant and guards moved with her.
The entire vast encampment moved as one under her command. If every beastkin tribe submitted to a single leader, what would that leader be called? The civilized nations dubbed the Beastkin Tigerkin Federation a theocratic society.
Human civilization had countless nations, each with its own sovereign. The northern barbarians were the same, the jungle natives too, and even the elves divided around the Three Kings of the High Kingdom.
Yet one race bowed to a single hand. The many chieftains of the Tigerkin Federation acclaimed one Great Chieftain. The Undefeated, Incarnation of War, Shield of the Western Great Wilderness...
Kirhas of the Kalani Clan. Kirhas Hearttaker.
The great hero who slew all who opposed her, ending the tribes' long civil war. From her childhood as a slave to devil worshippers, through her youth slaughtering them and escaping, to now—she had reached the pinnacle of her life.
"Well, prepare the drinks first."
"Yes!"
Kirhas walked slowly toward her tent.
*
What was the Beastkin Tigerkin Federation's most ideal form? Fernandez pondered as he underwent the seventh inspection. The Federation he'd met in his 'Saint' Fernandez days had truly been nothing but chaff.
"You might fool the others, old man, but not me."
A massive beastkin youth, rippling with muscle, sneered while pulling a dagger from Fernandez's sleeve. He roughly patted Fernandez down, checking for weapons.
"You're not there yet yourself, kid."
"Stinks like old hide to me. Next!"
That stung a little. Fernandez shot the rude beastkin a glance and chuckled. What was there to discuss with green youths? He shook his head and moved forward.
As he passed through the settlement toward the center, inspections and surveillance grew ever stricter. This was the domain of the tribal chieftains, prophets, and elders' tents, after all.
'The days when anyone could meet the Great Chieftain were the abnormal ones.'
Strictly speaking, the Great Chieftain led the entire race. A living sage, practically—allowing just anyone an audience was the real oddity.
Fernandez smiled as he surveyed the villages, utterly transformed from what he remembered. Yes, at this level, it was trustworthy enough.
'This discipline is what held back Karadskarr.'
Hulking soldiers armed to the teeth with ferocious weapons glared from every alley, eyeing Fernandez and his group. Haramr whispered softly at Fernandez's side.
"Brother, you must endure."
"...What do you take me for?"
"..."
Haramr fell silent and stepped back, eyeing Fernandez with a look that said, *Do you really not know?*
"No, I only kill those who need killing."
"The Brother I saw was always killing someone outside the monastery."
"That's because there's just too many in this world who need killing."
The Great Chieftain's tent loomed ahead. A long carpet stretched between ranks of elite guards. As Fernandez stepped onto it and advanced slowly, the soldiers menacingly thrust their spears into the ground.
Childish theatrics. As Fernandez sneered inwardly, Haramr sidled up and whispered lowly.
"What if the Great Chieftain refuses?"
"We still can't kill her."
-Shing!
"Enter. With proper decorum!!"
A massive beastkin guarding the entrance with crossed spears bellowed. The tent flap was drawn aside, revealing a vast interior draped in purple silk, adorned with gleaming trophies.
"Hoo..."
A purple carpet led to a massive throne of beast hide and gold. Fanned by attendants, she lounged with legs stretched out.
White, long calves led to form-fitting clothes accentuating her lithe body, capped by a glossy black cloak cascading from her shoulders.
"Great Chieftain, an honor to meet you."
"Yes. Consider it one."
Arrogant turquoise eyes blazed fiercely. *Hoo*—smoke trickled from between her lips.
*'The Undefeated, Kirhas Hearttaker.'*
A figure utterly unlike the vassal Kirhas he knew, yet with the same face. Martial prowess at its peak was mana incarnate; a body tempered by mana was relatively free from time's ravages and aging.
It had been nearly 30 years since he last saw Kirhas, but the 30 years Fernandez and Kirhas had lived were worlds apart. In that span, she had grown more cunning, fiercer, stronger—yet still bore the face he knew.
-Clink.
She waved off an attendant's fan. Another brought a porcelain ashtray. Kirhas ground out her thick cigar and looked down at Fernandez.
"You made quite the arrogant proposal, eastern priest."
"We only wish our property returned."
"Your property? Hmm, since when was it yours?"
"It's our god's holy relic. No concern of the beastkin, surely?"
"From what I know, your god is Beitasser. I pulled this from the heart of the God of the Hunt. Why is it yours?"
With a gesture, an attendant brought a greatsword wrapped in red cloth and prostrated. Kirhas gripped the hilt, slowly drawing it and aiming the tip at Fernandez.
"Prove it."
Beitasser's holy relic, the Keyblade. The mythic artifact later used to summon four great archangels as sacrifices. Fernandez smiled at the silver-white blade flickering in the candlelight.