Chapter 79
Chapter 79
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Dispatch Mission: Desert Acrobatics
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*
Bain Seldenberg was engulfed in confusion. Mosat City had belonged to Kirzart territory since the early days of the 50 Years' War, and it was a relatively peaceful trading hub, somewhat distant from the disputed zones. So what in the world was this—
*Weeeng! Weeeng! Weeeng!*
Warning sirens blared from all directions. The mana alarms wailed like scattered beacon fires, drawing steadily closer. Beyond the thick wooden door, somewhere in that corridor, the sound of trained warriors frantically drawing their swords echoed.
“H-Hey! Hey!!”
“Hush, stay inside.”
A gruff voice came from beyond the door. It was his mercenaries. Bain wanted to snap at the man’s rudeness, but fear and instinct held him back. Footsteps pounded rapidly outside as the mercenaries moved.
“You, scout the east corridor! You, you—follow me. The rest, hold here!”
“Yes, Captain!”
*Thud thud thud*
True to their reputation as battle-hardened desert warriors, the mercenaries vanished in a flash.
*Crunch!*
“?!”
A wet, squelching sound reached Bain’s ears. Like pulp from a crushed fruit. He desperately hoped it was just an illusion born of his terror.
*Crunch.*
*Crunch.*
The noise grew closer. Bain gripped his sword hilt cautiously and let out a long breath. He was one of the elder vampires, a scion of the great Seldenberg family. Fear was something foreign to him—
“Gasp!”
*Crunch.*
This time, it came from right outside the door in the corridor. A faint breath accompanied the crushing sound. Bain drew his sword and slowly aimed it at the door. The blade tip trembled.
*Thud.*
“Eek!!!”
Something heavy collided right against the door. Then came a slow, sliding scrape. His keen vampire senses picked up the thick stench of blood. It seeped under the door crack, pooling at his feet.
He had never feared blood—quite the opposite, he reveled in it. But not now. For the first time since receiving the night’s blessing, he dreaded it.
It was horrific. The helplessness of falling from predator to prey, after always standing at the top.
“G-Get lost! I’m not afraid of you, not one bit!!”
He bit his tongue to force the words out, mocking himself for such brave vocabulary. No fool would back off from a threat like that. Whatever this terrorist wanted, if he’d just talk, Bain would hand it over.
If he’d just talk.
*Crunch!!*
“H-Hiiik!!”
A massive blade pierced straight through the wooden door. Bain, who had tensed to lunge through the crack, bit his tongue again and leaped back. The blade withdrew, and through the thin gap it left, something blue gleamed.
Bain swallowed hard, peering at it. His vampire vision pierced the tiny darkness. It was an eye. A blue eye. Inorganic, like a glass marble.
The eye vanished.
“Damn it!! Damn, damn, damn! I’m just a merchant! Why are you doing this to me? Which caravan sent you? The t-temple? Hey, hey, I don’t eat people!!”
*Crunch!*
“Eek!!”
The other side of the door splintered, a long axe blade embedding like a wedge. The thick wood was splitting apart. Bain raised his sword threateningly and shouted.
“T-Tell me your name! Assassin!! My family won’t let this slide.”
“You should hope not.”
“H-He spoke!! Yes, yes! What do you want!”
*Riiip!!*
The door shattered completely and crumbled away. Only then could Bain fully take in the stifling tropical night heat of the oasis and the thick blood scent drifting through it. In the unlit corridor, crushed bodies lay like grotesque wall murals.
“You’ve got good friends.”
“···Who sent you?”
“Doesn’t that sound like a stupid question?”
Bain gulped and stared at the slaughterer before him. He looked younger than expected. His tall stature and inorganic aura made him seem older, but his face was barely into his twenties, even being generous.
Black, curly hair; deep-set blue eyes; pale skin. No Kirzart native. His aristocratic accent and baritone voice used perfect Levainter common tongue.
‘An imperial?!’
But this region was bitterly hostile to imperials. How? If an imperial outsider had slipped into the city, his men everywhere would’ve noticed.
“H-Hey, imperial. You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m really just a merchant! At most, I came here to buy and sell some grain and silk.”
“Just a merchant···. Of course, the Knightsfillon-distributing cartel is just a humble merchant guild.”
“···Damn it. That was the Sultan’s direct order!”
The man spun his massive greatsword over his shoulder. Not a sound as the huge blade slid into the scabbard on his back. At least three ranks above Bain in skill.
The man rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a letter. He muttered quietly.
“Bain ‘Fifth’ Seldenberg. Southern jungle native. Trades between Kirzart and the Eastern Kingdom Alliance, disguised as a cloth merchant. Last sighted at Kaylas City port. Suspected of transporting Knightsfillon smuggled from Kaylas to Fairn.”
“Damn it, is it my fault the drugs I sold ended up in another country? Blame the ones who snuck them in, or curse Fairn City guards! I was just trying to make a buck in that city! It was legal business!”
“Legal or illegal isn’t my concern. Vampire.”
*Snap.*
The man folded the paper back into his pocket and fixed Bain with his gaze. The inorganic blue eyes gleamed in the dark.
“The problem is your contacts with Kirzart’s Shaxisi.”
“···You’re Ironside.”
“Would you believe me if I said no?”
“Son of a bitch, the intel leaked!!”
*Slash!*
Bain screamed and retreated, trying to form hand seals, but a dagger had already pierced his wrist. He hadn’t seen it thrown or drawn! Clutching his dripping wrist, Bain backed away.
*Thud.*
His back hit the stone wall. No escape left. Hiding in this windowless storeroom to evade the assassin had been a mistake. If he could just reach the door outside, he could mist-form and flee—
“I’ll let you live.”
“···What?”
“I’ll spare you, vampire. Tell Shaxisi: let’s keep the game fair.”
“···I don’t know what scheme you’re pulling···.”
As Bain glared, the man shrugged and stepped aside. The corridor was close. Bain bolted out and kicked through a doorway. Oasis wind whipped his ears.
He dissolved into mist, vision blurring red. Cackling, Bain shouted.
“You’ll never catch me again!! You’ll regret this!!”
“···Sigh.”
The man smirked, watching Bain vanish into the moonlight.
*
*Tap.*
Kirhas Hearttaker leaped lightly from the rooftop perch to the ground. She landed beside Fernandez and spoke cautiously.
“The area’s secure, Silver Duke. Abel’s waiting at the rendezvous. You sure about letting him go?”
“I don’t fancy playing Ironside···. But he’s in my grasp anyway.”
Fernandez yanked a bloodied dagger from the wall. He pulled a map from his pocket and let a drop of blood fall onto it. His hand traced complex seals in the air, and a bronze throne flickered.
*Whoosh.*
A black halo ignited behind Fernandez’s head. Kirhas flattened her ears at the sticky, menacing aura and shrank back.
*Slide···.*
The blood droplet on the map moved on its own, gliding across. On the precise tactical map of Mosat City, sprawling from the oasis heart, a red dot crawled. Fernandez stared at it, flexing his wrist.
“Near the west main avenue.”
“Shall I track him?”
“In an hour. We need at least one Shaxisi to make things easier. Find another base if we can.”
“Yes, Silver Duke.”
Fernandez clicked his tongue at Kirhas’s gleaming eyes. They’d infiltrated this commercial city fresh from the battlefield, unexpectedly mimicking Ironside. He didn’t love the situation···.
‘Munto’ll hate it, though.’
Necropolis-aligned heretic sects were swelling across the wilds, and Seldenberg’s mercenaries were from that warrior faction. Achieving objectives along the way made it decent work.
The joint op with Ironside Graysircle started ten days ago. From where Fernandez left the monastery and linked with Angela.
*
*Ten days earlier.*
Beorn watched Fernandez read the orders in silence.
“Don’t like it? The choice is yours, brother. You’ve risen to a rank where you pick missions now.”
“Will my opinion matter?”
“If you wish, you could transfer from the Inquisition to the Papal Court. His Holiness expects it. Aren’t you a saint?”
“···No such plans. In any case···. A ‘dispatch mission.’”
“Ironside’s long been in sync with the Inquisition. With their formal request, we must consider it seriously.”
Beorn secretly hoped Fernandez would refuse. Sending a saint beyond Beitasser’s influence was worlds apart from eastern ops. Reporting to the Papacy made it unpalatable.
“The Empire-Kirzart war isn’t total now. It was once, but it’s loose skirmishes and attrition.”
“More annoying than full war.”
“Exactly. Perfect for heretics to burrow in. Endless foreign mercenaries, locals numb to outsiders.”
“So, Abbot, you don’t just want me fetching for Ironside.”
“Sent to an intel group? Bring back something useful.”
Beorn smirked.
“Heretics stir in these times, Fernandez brother. I don’t care about imperial victory or war’s end. Mortal affairs, whoever wins.”
“Use Ironside?”
“At least scout their true nature and return.”
“This order and Ironside’s letter to me tell different stories?”
“Ha, Necropolis?”
Beorn smirked, pulling his chair close and whispering.
“Necropolis is a smokescreen. They didn’t single you out for that. Borrow a saint to excavate some ancient ruin in the warzone—uncertain if it exists? Not their angle.”
“Another reason they want me out?”
“Infermer shook the eastern kingdoms. Ironside knows you were behind it.”
“Your intent, Abbot···.”
Beorn sipped tea and smiled.
“Uncover why Ironside targets you. Heresy-related? Perfect. We’d hold a card against the Empire. Go to Kirzart as they ask. Contact Shaxisi? Ideal.”
“Walk the wire between Kirzart and imperial intel?”
“We declare absolute neutrality in mortal politics. Kirzart’s Sultan bows to the Holy Pantheon. No need to blindly heed Ironside’s request or risk it. Our goal’s always been one, Fernandez brother.”
“···Intriguing.”
“Knew you’d like it.”
“I’ll depart tomorrow, Abbot.”
“Godspeed.”
The talk ended. Fernandez pocketed the orders and smirked. Balancing superpower intel orgs was highly dangerous···.
But he relished the complexity.
‘Necropolis as smokescreen. Interesting take.’
*High chance it is. No Necropolis unsealed before Pertus.*
‘We hold many cards, Feizashi.’
Fernandez walked the moonlit corridor from the abbot’s office. He gazed at the Dragonspine Mountains, conifers swaying outside the window.
‘And we don’t miss a single move.’
*Right. If we seize Necropolis this chance···.*
‘It’ll smooth our path.’
Gaimearn’s king said one of Beitasser’s four daughters lurked amid the western great war. Seize Necropolis, find Beitasser’s daughter, pierce Ironside’s aims—
‘End the 50 Years’ War.’
Succeed in rallying beastkin via Kirhas Hearttaker, and it wasn’t impossible.