Chapter 86
Chapter 86
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 86
Chapter Title: Arrival of Turbulent Times
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*
“The tide of battle feels off...?”
Fernandez’s parched lips twisted, a cracked voice leaking out.
A month in a coma had been enough time to shake even the ironclad homeostasis of a Demonica. He had been pushed to the brink of body and mind shattering apart.
The power flowing through his limbs felt faint. Kirhas quickly poured water into a cup and handed it to him. Fernandez quenched his throat without a word.
The cold liquid soaked his cracked throat, sharply awakening his senses. Slowly, slowly. Like a sponge, or a desert. Gulping it down greedily, his senses stirred to life. Even his memories, with exquisite clarity.
Traumas he wanted to forget rose from the shadows, lingering as afterimages beyond his retinas. Fernandez’s eyes trembled.
“Hm, I’ll inform the operations room. Everyone’s been waiting for Silver Duke’s return...”
-Clasp.
“...Silver Duke?”
Her arm, as she turned away, was gripped by Fernandez’s hand. Amid his black locks, blue eyes shook.
“Silver Duke.”
“Wait.”
Fernandez steadied his breath and whispered. This is reality. The ground I stand on now is real. For a month, he had been melting into King Dane’s memories, crumbling away.
A harmonious family, warm smiles, a son who respected him. Vassals who obeyed his words and worshipped him willingly. All things he had craved in his past life but could never grasp.
He had envied them. Yearned for them. Watching King Dane’s memories, merely observing. Sometimes sharing those emotions and sensations.
-We’re drifters, cast adrift from our own times to faraway places.
“Indeed, Abel. Truly.”
His compass pointed toward the North Star, yet still...
“...Silver Duke.”
“Just a moment, Kirhas. It’ll be brief.”
How could a father who killed his own son twice with his own hands not crumble at such a sight? Since that day, his eyes had dried up, but how could he not grieve?
The wounds etched into his heart, his soul, still oozed blood.
Kirhas watched her lord silently for a moment. Sorrow, mourning, longing flowed fiercely. What past did this young knight bear?
In her eyes, she saw the path leading to Fernandez. A road carpeted in deep blue silk. And now, that road was aflame.
“I’m right here, Silver Duke. I’ll always be by your side.”
She vowed gladly to be this man’s anchor. Approaching slowly the Fernandez hunched over on the bed.
-Swish.
Glossy black locks scattered around Fernandez’s shoulders. Tap. Her warm forehead touched his.
Fernandez’s keen sense of smell caught Kirhas’s scent. A cool, sky-and-wind-like skin aroma. At that refreshing fragrance, his eyes slowly opened.
Kirhas’s turquoise irises were right before his. Kirhas blushed faintly and pulled back a little. Her hair draped like an awning, scattering.
His blue eyes, always expressionless or sharp, softened for a moment. Kirhas drew a deep breath. Her heart pounded as if it would leap out.
-Clasp.
“Thank you.”
Swish, a rough hand stroked her hair. Kirhas flattened her ears back and closed her eyes. For a moment, a rumbling purr escaped her throat.
-Is the melodrama over?
‘Yeah. It’s done now.’
-Mind in order?
‘Fortunately, I still know who I am.’
-Well, yeah. Haha. We were never exactly sane anyway.
Beyond Kirhas, Feizashi Wildcast watched him with a twisted grin. Fernandez looked down at Kirhas, eyes closed feeling the touch, then raised his gaze to Feizashi.
‘Rest isn’t a factor we need, Feizashi. Flesh is just consumable.’
-Now it’s somewhat precious consumable, though.
Fernandez gently stroked Kirhas’s hair, then slowly rose from the bed. His balance was off. His body still wasn’t at full strength.
“Give me my sword.”
“Yes, Silver Duke.”
As Kirhas dressed him in armor and gear, she answered quietly. The brief respite was over. Whether he wanted it or not, he’d rested a month.
Even if his mind crumbled and his body fell apart. He had never lived complacently his whole life.
-Creak.
The door opened. Kirhas stood quietly by it, head bowed. Beside her, Fernandez strode out.
*
The Shaxisi operations room in Saxisi was chaos. Messengers, pigeons, magical communications, and couriers from great magic observatories flew in from all sides. All that intel tangled messily, updating the operations map in real time.
Saxisi, including Sadia, numbered five here. With thirteen operations officers assisting them, they formed the command staff of this room.
“Crusader Knights of the Doctrine Guardians are assembling banners.”
“Intel acquisition time?”
“Three hours ago!”
“They’ve likely marched on the Lavirata dynasty by now. Ignore it.”
The Shaxisi glared at the complex diagrams on the operations map, exchanging views. The past month, not a single day of rest.
The ancient relic map, [Nelros’s Eye], reflected acquired intel in real time from the moment of acquisition. This massive map, housed in Saxisi’s operations division, had warped like a broken pottery shard since that day.
Crusader Knights of the Doctrine Guardians, Eastern Kingdoms Alliance Knights. RevaInter Empire’s 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th outposts, Lavirata, Apotazar, Tutan Gartep, Conclave Three Dynasties. Kirzad Sultanate, and even the Beastfolk Tiger Clan Alliance.
The Western Great Plains had become a cauldron of chaos. The Fifty Years’ War, once a clash between western and eastern alliances, had met a dramatic end.
Sadia rubbed her fatigued eyes, gazing down at the mess. From the incident called [The Beacon of Mosat City], the battle had plunged into unpredictable chaos.
Wights rising everywhere, the Holy Pantheon suddenly declaring a crusade, eastern kingdoms dispatching knights with bloodshot eyes. For Shaxisi handling covert ops and tactics, it was unwelcome.
Then, a commotion sounded from outside the door.
“G-General, this is a restricted area... Urk!”
-Bam!
Something heavy slammed into the door.
Who dared cause a ruckus in Shaxisi command? Sadia’s eyes sharpened. The Shaxisi gripped weapons, glaring at the door.
-Rattle.
The door opened. Dull silver greatsword, inorganic gray plate.
-Clank.
A powerful step seized the room’s attention. Thick boots thudded loudly on the floor. Curly black hair swayed with each step, blue eyes gleaming between.
“...Albert.”
A stifled groan escaped Sadia’s lips. When, how? How had this man, comatose for a month, walked in so hale?
Despite the rudeness, none of the Shaxisi stepped forward first. Hearing “Albert,” they all realized who he was.
The [Beacon of Mosat City] incident. The man who single-handedly blocked RevaInter Empire’s great magic forces to save the city. And the one who annihilated the Conclave alone.
Round Table Knight and Inquisitor. Albert.
“Forgive my rudeness.”
“...No need.”
As Kirzad’s Shaxisi, they owed thanks to this young, violent knight. He had saved a peaceful trading city of forty thousand with his own power.
Yet they couldn’t welcome him wholeheartedly. In this chaotic war, he was like the eye of a storm.
A masked Shaxisi stared coldly at him.
“You have no right to enter here, Inquisitor.”
“Right?”
At those words, Fernandez’s eyes flashed sharply. He flexed his gauntlet, glaring at the man.
“I’ve heard plenty from my retainer. How you treated me and her this past month. Why am I being held like a prisoner?”
“...We sheltered and healed you in your coma.”
“No, you imprisoned me, Shaxisi. Without me, Mosat City would be ashes. Or a giant graveyard.”
The man bristled and slammed the table.
“Without you, Mosat would’ve stayed a peaceful trading city! Think we didn’t know you colluded with those Iron Side bastards?”
“Shaxisi. Then why not kill me?”
“...”
As the man fell silent, Fernandez smirked at the map. Tactical diagrams caught his eye, a familiar cross-sword emblem.
Crusader Knights of the Holy Pantheon Doctrine Guardians. Their insignia.
“You planned to use me too. Amid the chaos, trade me to the Holy Pantheon. Am I wrong?”
“We couldn’t just let you go freely.”
“And I’ve no intention of leaving now.”
Fernandez pulled a chair and sat. Naturally claiming the head seat, he tapped the table. Tap, tap.
“Now we can finally negotiate.”
“Negotiate?”
“Peaceful negotiation.”
The Shaxisi swallowed, staring into Fernandez’s eyes. Peace? Eyes craving peace looked like that?
Eyes reeking of ash and flame, blood and steel. The foul, hot stench of war.
“Negotiation for peace. Isn’t that what you want? An end to the war.”
“How can you end this mess?”
“Ultimate chaos breeds ultimate order.”
Gazing at the map, Fernandez inwardly admired Angela’s wit. Awakening Conclave’s wraiths at once to shake the battlefield, drawing in church holy knights, turning it into something like a religious war.
For Angela, burdened politically by Mosat’s failure, it was the best move. Shaking the board itself.
So, I’ll help directly. Fernandez smiled, pointing to a corner of the map.
“Set a negotiation table with the Tiger Clan Alliance.”
If they want turbulent times, he’d gladly play along. He’d fan the flames higher.
Turbulent times were, to Fernandez, utterly familiar territory.
*
-Tap, tap.
-Tap.
-Thud.
Beorn Shieldbane read the report before him silently, habitually drumming the table. Harder and harder.
-Crack.
A fissure split the thick oak table. Beorn pulled his fingers away, removing his monocle to polish it slowly.
“We claim complete neutrality in worldly disputes, Brother Zephys.”
“I know.”
“Thus, we cannot officially project force into the secular world. We can’t set such precedent.”
“I know, Abbot.”
Zephys gathered the report Beorn set down. Watching, Beorn rubbed his eyes.
“Has our saint brother truly fallen in battle?”
“...No, he hasn’t.”
“Iron Side’s doing, then.”
“Yes, Abbot. Circumstantially certain.”
-Rattle.
Beorn pushed his chair back, reclining long against it. Shadow fell over his head. Retreating beyond the candlelight, his voice echoed from the darkness.
“Religious trial jurisdiction, summary execution of heretics, exorcism force delegation, proxy church sacraments. Brother Zephys Shiradast. By these authorities granted by the Holy Pantheon, conduct a heresy investigation.”
At those words, Zephys rose wordlessly. Rage dripped from the voice behind him.
“Show those heretics who dared assassinate an Inquisitor with secular politics the Holy Pantheon’s wrath. Brother, relay to all brothers: from this hour, unofficial, voluntary heresy investigations are permitted.”
“Macto.”
“Macto superlaudo.”
-Creak. Thud.
The door closed. Beorn stared long at the flickering candle, lost in thought.
Iron Side, Gray Circle, Shaxisi, Kirzad and Empire’s war. Or Necropolis.
Whatever the reason, anyone attacking an Inquisitor was undoubtedly a heretic.
We shall burn the devils, the heretics, the witches.