Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: Altbert, the City Where Legends Entwine
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*
Entering Altbert beyond the sealing stones at the head of an army was a grave sin that violated the kingdom's most sacred laws. As a Round Table Knight tasked with upholding the realm's statutes, Palliamere found himself absurdly recalling the exact wording of the decree even in this moment.
-Clang! Clang!
-Groooaaarrr!!
"Sir Palliamere! Fires—fires are rising in the city!!"
"I have eyes too, Sir!"
-Clang!
The dense conifer forests encircling Altbert were choked with blood and corpses. Palliamere had been encamped a day's march from Altbert, awaiting the prince's orders. When the command finally came and they advanced, they were met by hordes of the undead.
-Crush!
He slammed his massive cavalry lance down, smashing a Walker—or something dead that moved like one—into the ground. From horseback, Palliamere surveyed the battlefield. It was a hasty march, an abrupt clash.
He could feel the soldiers' stamina draining fast. As a seasoned commander, he instinctively sensed the flow of battle.
The undead did not tire. They knew no fear, no discomfort in unfamiliar terrain. Things that wouldn't die unless their heads were severed were crawling from every direction in the forest.
Even from underground!
Soldiers slain by the undead rose again in less than ten minutes to strike down their own comrades. Every direction was a battlefield.
And amid it all, flames began rising from distant Altbert. Against the black, rainy night sky, the fires burned all the clearer.
Palliamere spurred his horse viciously, hacking through the undead swarming from all sides as he bellowed.
"Highmagus!! Do we need more time?!"
"Depends on how many there are."
"No time for jokes! Clear a path, even if it's just for ten men!"
"Can this battlefield hold without you here, Sir?"
"Altkairn's elite won't break from this!!"
-Crash!
Palliamere drew his cavalry greatsword and swung wildly, roaring. Each sweep shattered five or more undead into fragments. Beside him, a woman on horseback smirked and waved her hand.
-Whoooosh...
At her eerie gesture, the wind scattered and swirled around her. Palliamere flinched, gripping his sword hilt tight. Highmagus was a court mage with a seat in the Round Table Council, but to a knight who lived by the blade, magic was nothing more than strange sorcery.
-Whoooosh...
The wind gradually died down. Yet Palliamere's keen senses detected it coalescing, hardening. The woman's pale hand floated gently through the air, twisting grotesquely—
-Krrrrumble!!!
"Hoo..."
Soon, a massive rift tore open ahead, where corpses stood like a barricade. Dead flesh and blood sprayed. A path split through the undead legions like a crack in ice. The woman exhaled softly and smiled.
"Ten men should fit through now..."
"Pafnarmere!! Take command with Highmagus!"
"Yes, good fortune! Hya!!"
"Knights of Altkairn, follow me! We save our lord!!"
-Thunder of hooves!
Before the woman's words finished, Palliamere and his cavalry charged through the gap torn amid the corpses. They barreled straight ahead, slashing and smashing anything in their path.
The slowly widening path twisted open, and Palliamere burst through like a lion racing between them.
*
The raindrops falling from the sky thickened, pounding furiously. Abel stood before the giant, sword in hand. Around her lay the corpses of fallen soldiers. Even the giant's slightest movement felled men so easily.
"To think we'd meet again here, when history books should have been our only reunion."
-Grroooaaarrr!!!!
The giant bellowed deafeningly and swept its arm, battering soldiers aside. They flew limply into the sky. Prince Vicente and his knights stood by Abel, swallowing hard.
"Did the Knight King truly vanquish that thing alone back then...?"
"Alone? Dayne's life was the culmination of countless souls intertwined."
-Whoooosh! Boom!!
The giant swung again, pulverizing a building. A sturdy two-story stone structure crumbled under one fist, bricks flying. Then, a soldier rushed from the rear and bowed low.
"Your Highness, undead are scaling the city walls!"
"...Numbers?"
"Too many to count!"
Vicente sighed, clutching his face. A giant rampaged inside the city, undead legions approached from outside. His soldiers were a day away, and the king's guards were dead—or death knights, forced to fall by their own hands again.
Where had it all gone wrong? If he hadn't rebelled, if he'd yielded to Moria's schemes and meekly accepted exile abroad? Would this great city not have crumbled?
As he stood motionless, a hand rested on his shoulder. Abel. Her blue eyes gleamed as she met his gaze steadily.
"Neither despair nor regret. A man's life lacks even time to burn brightly."
"Abelessa..."
"Go. Leave the legendary giant to the dragon of legend."
Abel brushed her sword hilt and spoke. Could she do it? Even in dragon form, she couldn't claim certain victory over the giant. Though it had returned from death incomplete, the same held for her.
Faded scraps of history spat forcibly into reality. Abel smiled wryly, gripped her sword, and leaped into the path of the giant's descending hand as it smashed toward the soldiers.
*
Fernandez shook his throbbing head to clear it. Matching King Dane's soul and numerics had over-synchronized him, dulling his sense of reality. His soul tilted heavily toward the dead.
-Rumble...
Was that why? Fernandez's eyes peered into the realm of death. This city was a tangle of life and death. As he walked to the king's tomb entrance on the city's outskirts, he felt Mumto's gaze from above, watching them.
By nature, when Mumto beheld a battlefield, it showered lavish blessings on the dead. Those who died here would fall into Mumto's grasp, consumed as pawns.
-Rumble...
Fernandez pushed open the weathered stone door. Its surface bore ancient continental dialect carved in rough script. He paused, hand on the lintel.
In his ears rang the old king's voice.
-Though a thousand winters pass.
-Though you tremble beneath the seasons.
-Son. Be bold. You shall not lose your way.
These were King Dane's dying words to his son at his side. In Dane's memories mingled with his soul, Fernandez even felt pangs of envy.
He too wished to grasp his son's hand, offer blessings, and end his days in peace. He bit his lip lightly.
-Get a grip, Fernandez.
'I'm fine.'
-Too much mingling. You're no longer the man you were.
'Remember Maren's Bronze Walls?'
-...
Maren's Bronze Walls. During repairs to Maren City's wooden outer walls, citizens coated them in bronze. A century later, they were no longer wood.
A Maren philosopher gazed upon them and said: Once this wall was wood, and for long it remained as before. But now no trace of the past lingers anywhere, so can we call it the same wall?
To countless mages thereafter, Maren's Bronze Walls became a paradox of personal identity. A being's spirit, nature, soul, and vital essence shift tiers with life's experiences and karma—does it become another person between low and high tiers?
For a time, Feizashi said nothing. Fernandez opened the tomb entrance outward, thinking.
'Don't worry, Feizashi. United in purpose, we are one.'
-Yes.
Fernandez gazed at Mumto's blinking eye beyond the clouds and spoke. The rain grew fiercer. He felt the dead rising, writhing everywhere. Even grasshoppers belonged to death.
But this was mere thrashing. Mumto was expending its tier to project power here. From the moment the Conclave vanished and the Buried Church failed, its spell had faltered.
-Grroooaaarrr!!!
Far off, the giant howled. That was Mumto's anchor projecting force into this world. Destroy the giant, and Mumto would suffer immense damage to its tier. Fernandez felt Mumto's glare upon him.
Watch, powerless from there.
He gripped his sword hilt and broke into a run.
*
"Urk!!"
Abel groaned, shoving her blade against the giant's crushing hand on her head. Her knees hit the ground, her body sinking beneath. Immense pressure!
"This... thing!!"
-Crush!
She wrenched her sword free, flinging the arm away and leaping back. The giant's other hand smashed down. The spot where Abel stood pulverized, bricks scattering.
"Hoo..."
She steadied her breath, scanning around. She'd cleared nearby soldiers when the fight began, but the risen dead now assailed civilians. Just as in ancient times.
Altbert was being destroyed as in its era of the Buried Church's zenith. Groans of the dead and screams of the dying echoed everywhere.
-Shwaaaah.
Black rain poured. In the downpour, the giant loomed larger. Its pallid dead flesh split and stitched repeatedly. Magic sustaining its body circulated.
-Craaaack!
Its hand crushed buildings, wrecking streets. Abel gripped her sword and leaped. Golden hair like rippling wheat streamed through the rain as she scaled the giant's arm at speed.
-Slash!
She carved a deep gash near its shoulder. For any normal creature, that sharp, profound strike would have crippled an arm. But the giant regenerated instantly and swung wide.
-Thwack!
"Kuh!!"
Twisting midair, Abel was struck into a distant building. She smashed through the stone wall, embedding deeply, unable to rise for a time. For the first time since revival, this helplessness made her grit her teeth.
Raw power, brute size—no tactics, no reason in its movements. Perfectly counter to Abel's combat prowess. Enduring pain, she emerged from the collapsing wall.
-Grroooaaarrr!!
The giant bellowed. All nearby humans who weren't undead had evacuated. Abel had achieved her goal. Holding the giant's attention here was enough for now.
-Step.
Someone approached. Amid her heightened senses, Abel felt a man striding through the rain. Heavy footfalls, precisely measured strides. She whipped toward the presence. No, it couldn't be?
"You've done well."
"...Da, Dane. Never... again..."
"I won't promise that."
"You bastard..."
Fernandez walked slowly forward and draped his cloak over Abel's shoulders. She froze, recognizing the crest and patterns.
"...This?"
"Indeed."
-Shing.
From behind Fernandez, a muted greatsword rasped free. Plain, unadorned two-hander. But Abel had seen one just like it—same shape, same size.
Unforgettable. Even the crooked inscription on the blade above the crossguard, which she herself had carved.
For Dayne, her son.
-Grroooaaarrr!!!
The giant's roar tore the sky. It halted its random destruction, glaring at Fernandez—and the sword he held.
"Hoo..."
King Dane's soul mingled in his body slowly seeped into him. He couldn't fully assimilate its tier, karma, and spirituality. Fragments would remain. But the sensation in his hands lingered from then.
-Grroooaaarrr!!
The giant charged, smashing buildings and alleys, reaching for Fernandez. Pressure like the world crashing down. Fernandez stood motionless, sword raised.
Could he? No—he believed he could. From the hilt came weight like Dane himself bracing it, a strange kinship.
The blade tip sliced rain, rising—and soon.
From his gripping hand, down the taut muscles and tendons. Whispers seemed to echo. Dane's voice through the spirituality in his veins!
Now.
-Craaaack!!
Space snagged on the blade tip and shredded. Like paper—or a lance crumpling iron plate! It rent space, and everything within—
The greatsword cleaved the giant's arm, its glaring eyes. And beyond, Mumto's gaze upon him...
-Craaaack!!!
Cloud-shrouded sky split in two, rain scattering. Silence fell. Clouds parted, moonlight beaming through. Amid the giant's crumbling fragments, Fernandez sheathed his sword, moon at his back.
-Shing.
-I remember you...
"Yes. Remember me. I'll come for you soon."
Mumto's furious groan echoed from somewhere in the giant's body. It rotted swiftly to dust. The giant's skull thudded onto the wet ground.
-Thud, patter. Thud.
Clouds began clearing. Corpses toppled one by one, stilling. The realm of death retreated.
Watching Mumto's domain dissipate, Fernandez bowed his head with a smile.
'It'll lose its power for a while now.'
-Yes. Next target...
Hearing Feizashi's voice, Fernandez eyed his trembling arm. Forcing Dane's technique had twisted and wrecked his muscles and bones. Rest would be needed.
He smiled at Abel and Kirhas racing toward him.
'Necropolis. Puppetmaster of the Fifty Years' War. Crush them, prepare for northern invasion.'
The puzzle fit together. The world now moved in a state utterly unlike his past life's memories. Fernandez envisioned the intricate chessboard.
Soon, his vision would complete. A world free from the five archdemons' schemes.
*