Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: Their Purpose
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*
Five days had passed. Five days of barely scraping by with the pitifully insufficient food rations meant for surviving winter. Aeren gazed at the ramshackle village pieced together from temporary shelters and let out a sigh.
Erik's forces had turned Hazat Palan into ruins—or nearly leveled it into barren wasteland. This was a calculated move for certain political and military gains. From the perspective of waging a unification war, it served as a warning to nearby clans, and as a tactic to cut off resources and supply lines from Hazat Palan's scattered survivors.
But it was excessive. In clan wars, a clan's capital—the granaries that ensured winter survival—was considered sacred ground. Starving clansmen would launch sporadic raids on others before winter ended, leading to the total collapse of neighboring settlements.
Moreover, the warning that clan granaries could be burned would only breed backlash. A threat implying total clan extermination if defeated. It was a blunder that had to be avoided if unification without battle was the goal, and warring against every northern clan would leave no one standing.
"Hoo..."
Their blunder should have been the allies' opportunity, but staring at the ragged warriors shivering from cold and hunger made even that chance feel distant. Aeren let out a deep sigh.
"Hey, Shieldmaiden. Keep that up and you'll cave the ground in."
"Gunnar."
"You're worrying too much. It's time to move out, so what's with sitting on your ass like this?"
"The southerners haven't returned yet."
"That guy's probably dead. And if we stay, we'll all follow him. Aeren, I didn't bring the whole clan here to stare at the winter sea and starve to death."
Gunnar approached, grumbling. Aeren brushed back her hair and gazed at the churning distant sea. Still, that man hadn't returned.
"If we leave, those warriors will desert. It's a force too valuable to abandon. A few more days won't hurt us worse. No matter where we go, we can't stop their main force if it comes."
Gunnar nodded at Aeren's words, then slowly drew near. He glanced around briefly before lowering his voice to a whisper.
"Let's go to your shelter. I have something important to say."
+
Gunnar sat roughly by the tactical map in the center of the shelter, the campfire, and the table. As Aeren closed the flap and crossed her arms, Gunnar hesitated before speaking with effort.
"It's just a hunch, but the situation's serious."
"What is it?"
"Last night, your warriors came back, right? I got them drunk and heard the details."
It had been a day since the warriors who left with Fernandez returned. At that time, Aeren had been struggling to gather the dispersed warriors and civilians at the clan borders.
Exhausted, they only relayed that Fernandez had gone deeper before leaving to rest, leaving Aeren without a full grasp of the expedition.
Gunnar slowly opened his mouth.
"Looks like Erik's goal isn't unification."
*
-Plop!
"Can't you stop that?"
[I'm worried you'll get lost, so I'm doing this!]
Fernandez sighed, eyeing the flower popping up amid the snowfall with a cheerful sound. Ever since he'd complained last time, this goddess had been desperately trying to prove her worth at every opportune moment.
Honestly, it was annoying. The ability he'd wanted from her wasn't some nature-loving compass that bloomed flowers or pointed paths.
"I know the way anyway. I can read the stars."
[Congratulations on having eyes!]
"Just get down and walk on your own feet. Witch."
[Plop!]
Now she was even making that clear sound from her own mouth to sulk. Soon, flowers sprouted densely at his feet in protest.
[The warriors you sent back have joined the clan. The chieftain seems ready to leave now.]
"That's not good. Since Erik's goal isn't a unification war. Better if they stayed put."
[What do you mean?]
"It means they won't redeploy forces to areas they've already passed. Their aim isn't total extermination or domination."
[No, not that. Erik's goal. What does that mean?]
"They polluted their own capital."
Freya tilted her head, then suddenly smacked the back of Fernandez's head with her hand. It didn't hurt, but it was irritating. As Fernandez growled, she declared confidently.
[Skipping steps in conversation is a bad habit!]
"Thanks for the lesson. Fine, you should know too... Do you know why northerners only raise armies in summer?"
[Because winter's cold. The seas get rough, making sailing hard...]
"Half right. But there's a bigger reason. Northern winters are decent hunting season. Animals fattening up for winter are oily and defenseless. Spring's for planting, fall for harvesting. Summer? Aside from fishing, it doesn't demand much labor for big yields."
[...So?]
"They raised an army in winter. It's a surprise attack aimed only at northern clans. Other clans are prepping for winter, bulking up, defenseless. If you see clans as beasts, war's an energy-draining exercise. Even if they win, building supply lines to feed warriors means they'll wither after two or three wars."
Fernandez crunched through a frozen snowdrift. Walking with firm steps, he murmured lowly to the goddess on his back.
"Win every war? Hard, but not impossible. But what's left after? Just corpses of starved clans. A grand unification war? Starting by polluting their own capital? There, you see their goal?"
[Yeah. This is...]
*
"Before Erik pulled that shit, that old Yar and I were on decent terms. Rough guy, but cared for his clan. Not the gambling type either."
"So?"
"What 'so'? Their clan had fishermen, farmers, even blacksmiths and carpenters."
Gunnar lifted the kettle heating by the campfire. He poured tea into a cup and continued.
"They conscripted every damn man in the clan. If unification was the goal, they couldn't do that. It's suicide. Even victory means nothing if the whole clan starves and collapses come winter."
"...True."
Aeren crossed her arms, thinking. Cold and hunger didn't spare anyone. If they shivered in the wilds, so did Erik's army this winter.
Especially if the whole clan was like that...
"Your men, drunk and rambling, said Hazat Kai was totally wrecked. Demons roaming, buildings smashed, shamans doing filthy shit with corpses. Erik wrecked his own city and drove his people to the wilds this winter."
"Not unification..."
"Yeah. Even if he unifies after smashing his base city, his army's just wandering mercenaries. They can't settle."
Gunnar sipped his tea and paused. As if dreading what came next. For her, who'd known him long, it was disconcerting. Gunnar was famed for his fearlessness and boldness.
Finally, he reluctantly finished.
"So, their goal is the north's outright destruction."
*
[Ragnarok.]
"Yeah. Destruction. Total and utter. That's Erik's aim."
[But... silly as it sounds from me. Why? It helps neither demons nor him. What's the point of a barren north where everyone perishes equally, no subjects to rule?]
She was right. Unless they couldn't conquer the south, the north's fall wasn't a world-shaking event on the grand scale.
The north wasn't the whole material world. If demons wanted its end, the north should be ruled, not destroyed—a useful tool against southern civilizations.
Even if the north fell and all life winked out, what demons gained wouldn't match the effort. Summoning one demon to the material world cost dearly, not just for mages.
So demons, once piercing the veil, harvested souls maximally to recoup losses. The Inquisition called these "demon incidents," deploying their strongest to stop them.
A north-wide demon incident? Just mutual conflagration, burning each other's oxygen till nothing remained. Classic mutual assured destruction.
"Their tactical objectives have shifted."
In his past life, Erik unified the north, gathered clansmen warriors, and marched south. Predictable thinking, likely Sadarkelia's influence plotting a grand demon incident via southern conquest.
In this life, her goal changed. Fernandez had hypotheses.
"Mumto died."
The great demon's position unchanged for millennia. Even the youngest, human-born one felled by a mortal with divinity would rattle Sadarkelia.
And another.
"Elves are stirring too."
Orion served Sadarkelia, and his dealings with Franzrit in Infermur City suggested alliances with vampire nobles for southern invasion.
Her plan simplified: Tidy north, preserve forces, ally with north-sea vampires, invade south.
But Franzrit fell. Southern chaos stabilized swiftly; eastern kingdoms grew steeply; empire and sultan in tentative truce, building strength against northern warriors.
More time, and civilized defenses solidify. Time wasn't Sadarkelia's ally here.
That's why she grew hasty. Couldn't leisurely unify and preserve north.
"Sadarkelia's goal, great demons' goal, is civilization itself. But southern stabilization outpaces their expectations."
[But that doesn't mean they should self-sabotage.]
"Right. Not self-sabotage—time for a new strategy."
Fernandez spoke while ascending a snowy ridge. Plop—a flower bud burst amid conifers. Mistletoe on trees bloomed.
"Souls are currency to demons. Summoning needs vast souls and sacrifices. A continental massacre, blood flowing, despair and screams pooling... If enough currency accumulates..."
Rustle. Fernandez stepped to the ridge's end, peering down. Campfires flickered far below. Warriors moved between them.
They'd reached Hazat Palan.
"Even a great demon can be summoned."
The black mage with history summoning one declared.
"And that's our chance."
Even with enough sacrifices, great demons rarely descend easily. Failure and death in the material world burdened them heavily, risking demotion by lesser demons.
Unless like Tyban, with nothing to lose, rampaging. Or Sadarkelia, scheming perfectly from shadows—she wouldn't descend lightly.
But if urgency forced her body into play, it changed. Sole way to kill a great demon: face its true form. To reach the body, weaken it first.
Inflict maximum damage before material descent grants full power, while still vulnerable.
Then open path to its seal where true form slumbers.
This moment, this chance—he'd saved Fairn, preserved Dane Kingdom, solidified eastern alliances, cleared great wilds for it.
Make remaining great demons desperate. Push them to 'adventures' they'd never risk.
Till their flesh weakened enough, retreated. Finally, his blade lodged in their throat.
[You're... a scary one.]
He never bet on one move. Fernandez descended the ridge, smiling at the goddess trembling faintly on his back.