Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: The Emperor's Eye
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*
The feast was as splendid as the Beastkin Tiger Clan Alliance could muster. Dancers twirled, fatty meats slathered in all sorts of spices were served, and even fruit wine—rare in the desert—was brought out.
Bartas prayed that all this ridiculous hospitality would be effective. He hoped material luxuries would work on skeletons too...
And it was very effective.
[You know how to treat an envoy. Savages.]
The skeleton envoy let out a satisfied voice as he filled a brass cup with wine. With very noble and leisurely hand movements, he let the wine flow between his decayed skull.
- Trickle.
The wine flowed down his jaw, ribs, and spine, soaking the envoy's splendid bronze armor. A fawning servant skeleton quickly approached and wiped the wine from the bronze armor with dry linen cloth.
It was astonishing. Bartas was grateful they could be even more pathetic. At least he hoped they'd be half as pathetic in battle. They were enemies he'd have to fight someday.
The skeleton envoy tapped his fingers—dangling with all sorts of jeweled ornaments—as he looked down at the banquet. Beneath his jawbone, a blue soulfire flickered. The light of greed, luxury, and vanity.
As the night deepened, the feast grew ever more debauched and extravagant. Under the pretext of "gifts," all sorts of luxuries brought by the skeletons were piling up in the village square.
The village youths were gradually shaking off their fear, genuinely enjoying the feast now. The skeleton envoy's gaze deepened as he watched them.
*
Among the delegation that arrived with the skeletons, surprisingly, there was a living human. The middle-aged man, gaunt almost like a skeleton himself, was devouring the food brought by the tribe's youths with ravenous greed.
Oil from the meat dripped profusely between his hands. The tribe's youths snickered at the sight of the man, who looked as though he hadn't eaten for days.
"No way—how'd you end up among those monsters?"
"To make a long story short, I had only two choices. Die, or become their servant."
"Since we're both humans anyway, tell us. Think those guys will attack?"
"The Pharaoh isn't stupid."
The middle-aged man stared at the skeleton envoy stuffing food into his skull with dull eyes. The envoy's eye sockets flickered with delight.
"Don't get too comfortable trusting those monsters."
"We don't trust anyone."
A vigorous beastkin youth barked out a laugh.
"It's clear they want to build ties with the Beastkin Alliance and at least sign a non-aggression pact for the time being."
"That's good enough."
The youths seemed satisfied with the middle-aged man's words. They gossiped among themselves while stuffing their faces with meat and drink, then one suddenly said,
"Oh, there's a human guest in our tribe too. Want to meet him?"
"...A human?"
"A little while back, this kid showed up in our village, saying he was looking for someone. He sparred with our tribe's warriors on a whim, and the little guy was incredible."
The middle-aged man set down his food for a moment and scanned his surroundings with uneasy eyes. A kid? No way... The youths chattered energetically on other topics, but the man gave vague replies as he kept looking around.
'No way. I wasn't tailed at all.'
The man wiped his grease-smeared hands on his thighs and stood up.
"Ah, gotta take a piss."
"Head down that alley and handle it in the bushes."
The youth replied cheerfully before chatting with other tribesfolk. After long tension, the feast had arrived, and the villagers were joyfully enjoying this peaceful revelry in earnest.
The man cautiously scanned his surroundings as he walked through the alleys tangled with tents. The night breeze was chilly.
"Hoo..."
It was exasperating to think how he'd ended up like this. Born to an imperial noble house, once one of the empire's elite agents feared by all—how had he become a lackey to skeleton wraiths...?
- Shing.
Cold steel pressed against the back of his neck. The man froze with a shudder. No presence at all—how?
"B-11-CQ2. Codename Brandon. Under Imperial Military Code Article 37, Section 2, Paragraph 1, sentence is hereby executed."
"...Ha."
A young man's clear voice followed. The man relaxed his tense shoulders with a sigh. His uneasy premonition had never been wrong.
"How'd you find me?"
"Five misses means it's time to hit."
"If you kill me, these village beasts will die too. Innocent blood will spill... I have the protection of King Tutan Garthep!"
"Done with last words?"
"Urk!"
- Whoosh!
Brandon twisted his waist, spinning and leaping back. The youth's spear flashed in the darkness, catching moonlight. In an instant, both shoulders and thighs were pierced!
- Spurt!
"Gaaah!!"
"You get why I'm not killing you outright, right? Here's your chance to reclaim Iron Side's honor."
"I... resigned... a while back...?"
"Your resignation was denied. You're still Iron Side."
The youth grinned cheerfully as he spun the spear onto his shoulder. Brandon clutched his thigh, where blood dripped steadily, gasping for breath. The Pharaoh's envoy wasn't far. If he could just scream...
"I'd cooperate quietly if I were you."
- Tap.
At the alley's end, a woman stepped out. Blue magic coiled around her hand, sparkling in the darkness.
"No one will know what happens in this 3-meter radius. No sound, no light, no smell."
Whether skeletons even had a sense of smell... The woman chuckled softly. Despair slowly settled in Brandon's eyes. He cried out in desperation.
"The Emperor's dog! Kill me and you think you'll get out alive?! You're alone!!"
"Ah, my favorite line."
The youth laughed brightly. He playfully readjusted his spear with a flick and thrust lightly toward the man's gut. Over the fallen man, the honed spear tip drew close.
Engraved on the blade, visible in the moonlight: a sun emblem with a large eye. Nicknamed the Emperor's Eye. It proved the youth's identity and served as a death sentence for the Emperor's enemies.
The Emperor's hunting dog... The man swallowed dryly.
"So let's drop concerns about me and tell me where your boss is?"
"...Can you show mercy?"
"If lies comfort you."
At those cold words, the man abandoned his last hope. For imperial citizens, facing this blade meant just that. Abandon hope and submit before the Emperor's authority.
"That witch is in Tutan Garthep's palace. She's taken shelter with the Pharaoh. Like me."
"Then why are you hiding out here?"
"Tutan Garthep's a capable king. Doesn't let servants rest."
"Good. Angela won't be resting easy either, then, Angel."
"Th-that's it, right? No more business with me? I beg you. I'll do nothing, say nothing, live quietly. Like I'm dead."
The youth looked down at Brandon, trembling and clutching his pant leg. Moonlight poured down below his head.
The spear tip slowly pointed to the ground.
"For defying imperial orders and attempting to bomb a trade city: this constitutes insubordination, violation of military law, unauthorized preemptive strike, and war crimes."
"Please, I beg you!"
"For resurrecting the dead, looting undiscovered ancient relics without reporting to superiors: this constitutes embezzlement, breach of duty, and treasonous plotting."
"Mercy...!"
No sooner had the youth finished than Brandon knelt, clasping his hands. With tearful eyes, he pleaded.
"I was ordered to do it. I didn't want to! Lo-long live His Imperial Majesty! Long live His Imperial Majesty! Spare me!"
"Darian Shrike, Third Punisher of the Emperor and Emperor's Eye, hereby bring death to His enemies and protection to His flock."
The youth briefly made the sign of the cross and gripped the spear.
- Crunch!
The blade shattered the moonlight as it plunged down, piercing Brandon's heart and extending deep into the ground beyond. Brandon stared blankly at the spear impaling his chest before slowly stiffening.
Hot blood trickled down the blade to the ground.
- Grind.
The blade pulled free and spun a wide arc in the air. Blood droplets clinging to it scattered everywhere. The youth spun the now-clean spear once more and slung it over his back.
With a rustle, Brandon's corpse tilted sideways. He collapsed onto the blood-soaked dirt. His dimming eyes blankly reached the youth's feet.
"Your position is revoked. B-11-CQ2. May His Imperial Majesty's justice stand firm."
"One left now?"
"Dispel the magic, Sairi. Time to end the festival."
"You're serious? Not running? There are over five thousand skeleton soldiers out there!"
"And we're alone?"
"Yeah!"
The youth flashed a deep smile at that.
"Let's kill just three more, Sairi. Then I'll pull back too."
"Who?"
"General, envoy, mage."
Easier than facing five thousand rabble. The youth grinned, gripping the spear shaft on his shoulder.
*
Fernandez watched Kirhas Hearttaker push through the jungle. She cautiously oriented herself, ears twitching nonstop. Like she was rummaging through old memories to find the path.
'Darian Shrike. Remember that bastard?'
-Ah, damn it.
Feizashi grumbled the moment he heard the name. Fernandez chuckled. In his long life, one of the most terrifying heroes. Darian Shrike, the Emperor's Sword. Empire's strongest. Emperor's Eye. Undefeated.
Recalling last night's nightmare, Fernandez tapped his sword hilt. Lately, the sword felt more familiar than magic, making the dream version's movements even clearer.
'Could I take him now by force?'
-This timeline? Yeah. He's not fully grown yet.
'Darian losing doesn't even compute.'
-Why worry? He won't be our enemy this life.
'Hope so.'
The great heroes who'd clashed with him at his peak mostly hadn't been born yet, and current heroes were tied up in their own political messes, unable to move freely.
In that context, the one who came to mind first as able to rampage freely, regardless of politics or diplomacy, was Darian Shrike. Emperor's Eye, Darian the Magpie.
-Wanna fight him?
'Yeah. Surprisingly.'
Feizashi eyed Fernandez with displeasure. That wasn't a mage's mindset. More like a knight or warrior.
Fernandez seemed to feel bloodlust toward Darian. Against a fellow greatest of the era.
Because of King Dane's memories? Feizashi regarded Fernandez with sunken eyes.
"Benefactor, I think I found it!"
"Good work."
Pushing through the jungle, far ahead: a waterfall. Just like the legends. A jungle rising in the heart of the desert. [The Fall of Kazakh Kadan]. Secret stronghold of the Karani Clan.