Chapter 33
Chapter 33
The Iron Emperor — Chapter 33
Chapter 10: Opening the Sky
By the lakeshore in the heart of the Reganza Mountains, a torrent of vicious cursing erupted.
"Son of a bitch! You bastards, breathe with your bellies! Your bellies! Can't even tell your chest from your goddamn belly!"
"Kkh-heok!"
"Huff! Huff!"
thud-thud-thud-thud.
Unlike the Gauri soldiers running in full combat gear, the newly inducted recruits, flaunting their multicolored hair, were running bare-bodied and oscillating between heaven and hell.
"Oh, you're falling behind? Just fall a little farther back—I'll pound you into the dirt!"
Whoosh!
"Hee... Heeek!"
As Buru followed from behind, bellowing curses and brandishing his great axe, the young man who sensed a lethal threat bolted forward, drawing on desperate strength.
"Heck, heck!"
Thwack!
"Kkheok!"
A youth running with his tongue lolling out was sent flying by Buru's merciless kick. Buru stormed over like he meant to slaughter him, thrust his axe in his face, and roared.
"Your tongue's hanging out when you're supposed to be breathin' with your belly? Tuck it back in before I cut it off!"
"Hupp!"
Whether Buru's threat worked or not, the young men scrambled to their feet and bolted back into the run. Living in these mountains, you'd expect them to be fit, but they actually prided themselves on below-average stamina.
Of course, the exceptional conditioning of the Gauri troops played a part, but the real reason was that, except for a few, they'd spent their lives farming inside the village walls because of the monster threat.
"This... this is insane. Why the hell do we gotta breathe with our bellies?"
"Huff, huff, just... don't ask, you'll get hurt!"
"Huff, huff, you mean shut up?"
"......Yeah, shut up."
The young men didn't understand why he kept screaming at them to breathe with their bellies while swinging that great axe, but they had no choice but to run for their lives.
Curiously, at the back of the formation ran three dwarves, their short legs churning as if their lives depended on it.
"Hwain Stone! Huff, huff, this is your fault!"
"Kheok, sh-shut up. Don't talk to me!"
Having never run like this in their dwarf lives, they too were dying. Unlike the village youths, they wore Chalgap (scale mail, scale armor) similar to Uru's all over their bodies, and their huge axes were clutched in their hands. Mawin Stone and Galling Stone ran while shooting murderous glares at Hwain Stone.
The reason they were running now!
'How can we become strong?'
For a tribe that worked metal and carried high pride as warriors, it was a natural question, and Buru, feeling a sense of kinship with them, had given them an answer to grant their wish.
'Follow me.'
The consequence after that short reply had become their present reality.
"Which little bastards are runnin' their mouths?!"
"Heok!"
"Hup!"
With their short strides, they had to take two steps for every one step the others took, and Buru's voice was sheer hell. But there was nothing they could do. They'd dug their own graves, so they had to obey until they dropped. Even so, as they watched Buru weaving through the ranks and roaring commands, their gazes held respect.
'A true warrior tribe!'
They wanted to be like Buru.
During the fleeting break granted after running themselves ragged, all the young recruits sprawled out across the ground. In contrast, the existing Gauri soldiers acted as if the training was nothing, laughing and chatting among themselves.
"Huff, huff, can I ask a question...?"
"Huh? What?"
"Huff, huff. Why the hell do we have to breathe with our bellies?"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk."
A youth gasped out the question. A soldier with a long spear slung over his shoulder clicked his tongue and answered.
"Ain't it obvious? If you wanna live long, you breathe with your belly."
"Huh?"
The simple answer left the youth confused. Just as he was about to ask again, Buru's voice plunged them back into despair.
"Rest is over!"
"Ugh."
But then Buru's next words immediately rescued the recruits from that despair.
"Recruits—sit down! The rest of you—run!"
"Whoa!"
"We're saved."
Standing before the recruits, who were openly expressing their relief, Buru slowly swept his gaze over them and began to speak.
"Now listen while you rest."
"Yessir."
If nothing else, their replies were brimming with energy. Buru's calm voice drew all their eyes to him.
"I'll tell ya why I told you to breathe with your bellies."
"Yessir."
"Answer like you mean it! You wanna run again?"
"SIR, YES, SIR!"
At Buru's quiet threat, the recruits who'd answered loosely a moment ago bellowed their refusal loud enough to shake the mountains. Pleased by their booming volume, Buru nodded up and down and launched into his explanation.
"You ever see a dog live longer'n a human?"
"No, sir!"
"Then, you ever see a horse live longer'n a human?"
"No, sir!"
The crisp, clear voices, like schoolchildren reciting, met with Buru's approval. With a pleased expression, he continued his questions.
"Now, them animals got something in common—they breathe faster'n humans. What about a tortoise? You think the tortoises here by the lakeside live less than a human?"
"No, sir!"
"I don't kno..."
"......Drop and get down, now."
"Yes, sir."
In Buru's training regimen, "I don't know" did not exist. Turning his gaze around again, he went on.
"So, animals with longer breaths live longer. Then, if a human breathes long, what happens?"
"They live long, sir!"
"Right. And where does a newborn baby breathe from?"
"......."
At Buru's question, the soldiers exchanged glances. As Buru's expression grew increasingly fierce, a soldier who looked like the youngest stood up and answered.
"Um......"
"Speak up."
"They breathe from their nose and mouth."
"Get down."
"Sir!"
With two soldiers face-down on the ground, the atmosphere turned chilly. In the midst of it, Buru clicked his tongue.
"Go home and take a look. Every time you breathe, your belly puffs up. Now then—you know where you breathe from right before you die?"
"Um... you gasp through your throat."
When one young man answered cautiously, Buru's head nodded with satisfaction.
"That's right. When you're dyin', your breath rises to your throat. You gasp like that and then you die. So, the breath you start out with from the belly at birth rises up to your throat right before death. A man's gotta master his breath. That's how you live a long life. And the reason you breathe with your belly is so your stamina don't drain fast when you're runnin' long or fightin' a war. You!"
"Sir!"
When Buru pointed at a young soldier, he shot to his feet. Buru's question flew at him.
"In a war, you gonna swing your sword once or twice and then take a break?"
"No, sir! I have to keep swingin' until all the enemies are dead."
"Right. Then what do you gotta do?"
"I have to breathe with my belly, breathe long, and build up my stamina!"
"Very good!"
"Ooooh!"
At Buru's booming voice of approval, the other youths cheered and the soldier who'd given the right answer squared his shoulders. At his clear reply, Buru walked over, clapped him on the shoulder, and addressed the recruits.
"That's exactly it. Everyone got it? Alright then, now run. Just a hundred laps around the lake and I'll let you rest today."
"......."
"What're you waitin' for? You're not runnin'."
In the end, Buru had simply emphasized that they were to run themselves to death.
* * *
Go Jin-cheon's unit, hurrying back to the encampment, halted their gallop as darkness began to settle in earnest and started making camp. The prisoners were soothing their numb backsides, sore from the rough ride in the wagons, while the horses that had finished their gallop and a few others rested their legs, idling off to one side.
"Hey, Steel Face! Hand over my bracelet!"
"......."
Despite having sprinted alongside the horses over a long distance, Gerard was full of energy. A Sword Master lived up to his reputation indeed. The target of his yelling, Steel Face, was none other than Go Jin-cheon. If it were merely about his stony expression, Gerard wouldn't have called him Steel Face. Originally, Gerard had called him 'Thick-Skinned Bastard,' but after Jin-cheon punished him by making him run on one leg, he had toned it down to Steel Face.
"Hey! I said give me my bracelet!"
"Mm."
Though Gerard shouted himself hoarse, the only people who could understand him were the prisoners, the high elf Haidia, Risel, and Jin-cheon. Jin-cheon's discomfort seemed to show that Gerard's incessant jabbering was getting on his nerves.
"Uh, Master. Gerard of Lightning is, after all, one of the Ten Great Swordsmen of the Continent, and his pride is..."
When Risel spoke to Jin-cheon in a cautious tone, Jin-cheon raised a hand to stop him from going any further. Risel's finger now bore the returned translation ring, so his awkward dialect was gone.
"Give it!"
"Mmm."
Even though Risel had the translation ring, the reason Jin-cheon could understand Gerard was simple—on his wrist was an antique-looking translation bracelet, and its true owner was the incessantly ranting Gerard. As if fed up with Gerard's grumbling, Jin-cheon rose from his seat and approached him.
"Ohhh! What? You gonna hang me upside down this time? Go ahead, try it! But first, hand over my bracelet!"
"Hm."
Without a word of reply, Jin-cheon stared at Gerard, clicked his tongue lightly, and slipped the bracelet off his wrist.
"Now you're listen—"
Swish.
"......."
Gerard's budding smile froze. Jin-cheon had wiped the bracelet with a cloth and put it right back on. As he turned his back, he spoke in a low tone.
"Got a bit sweaty."
"......."
Stomp, stomp, stomp.
Watching Jin-cheon walk away after leaving only those words, Gerard couldn't pull himself out of a deep sense of deflation.
'So this is how he gets revenge.'
Boundless resentment toward Jin-cheon swirled inside Gerard's mouth.
Ignoring Gerard, Jin-cheon walked over to Risel and exchanged a few words. Yet, he didn't forget to sneak a glance at Haidia off to the side.
A short while later, Jin-cheon nodded and headed toward the forest. As if following him, Uru scrambled after him, bow in hand.
"Where ya goin'?"
"And you?"
To Jin-cheon's counter-question, Uru scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"I'm goin' to catch a rabbit for the Celestial Maiden."
"Don't go catching some walking rabbit or anything."
"Don't you worry. But where are you headed, Daesaja?"
"A walk."
With that brief reply, Jin-cheon hurried into the forest, the corner of his mouth lifted in a rare smile.
* * *
Once the meal was more or less ready, the soldiers came around and distributed food to the prisoners, then settled into their places.
In a temporary tent erected here, Haidia, who was tending to her tired body, was being treated as an honored guest by Go Jin-cheon and Eulji Uru more than as a prisoner. Even now, she was simply sitting quietly inside the empty tent.
Just then, the tent flap opened and Risel guided his aged frame inside.
"To the child of the forest who is a being of harmony and possesses eyes that behold essence—I, the human wizard Risel Siaron, offer my greetings."
"To Risel, a fragment of chaos and child of mana—I, Haidia of the High Elf clan, give my thanks."
"A-a high elf!"
At her greeting, Risel could not stop his eyes from widening. He had only assumed she was an elf, and her revelation that she was a high elf startled him. In fact, it was hard to tell elves and high elves apart by appearance, but a difference did exist.
Ordinary elves handled magic, spirits, and the bow. High elves handled not magic but holy power. In human terms, she was equivalent to a priestess. At a time when seeing even an elf was rare, high elves were even harder to encounter. Moreover, while elves might be one thing, it had long been an unwritten law that a high elf must never be restrained in any way.
Baron Alvin was clearly a man who paid no heed to such unwritten laws. When a high elf is imprisoned, the normally peace-seeking elf clan transforms into a group of ruthless avengers. That vengeance continues until the annihilation of the target, and afterwards, if the revenge is completed, a single individual shoulders the burden of that slaughter's karma.
That is a dark elf. From that moment, dark elves withdraw into the forest's darkness to live separately, bound by the rule to remain as guardians of the elves.
Because of that truth, enslaving regular elves was frequent, but a high elf was an existence that must never be touched.
And the method to distinguish an elf from a high elf was surprisingly simple. You merely ask: 'Are you an elf, or a high elf?' A race that does not lie makes it easy to find out. Baron Alvin must have never even asked such a question.
'If we hadn't rescued her, a far greater slaughter might have ensued.'
That was Risel's conclusion as his thoughts reached this point. Just then, someone burst into the tent as if sprinting.
"Celestial Maiden!"
"Is that not Uru?"
Uru, who dashed in joyfully, had a delicious-looking rabbit dish wrapped in a large leaf in each hand. The reason he'd been nowhere in sight was that he'd been hunting and cooking this very meal.
"Celestial Maiden, please have some of this!"
With her light armor, clear sky-blue hair, jade-white skin, and sea-like emerald eyes, Haidia exuded more than a mere mystical aura for Uru. He'd felt despair when she was placed behind Jin-cheon on his horse, but now that she'd returned to his side, he could savor boundless elation and a quiet sense of victory over Jin-cheon.
Even a flush had spread over Uru's cheeks as he brought the rabbit dish, laden with his sincerity and effort.
"It's food. Please eat."
But Haidia merely gave a faint smile at the appetizingly roasted meat. As Uru began to grow anxious, Risel's voice reached him.
"Uru."
"It's real tasty."
"Uru."
"No funny stuff in it, promise. Please, just one bite."
"......."
At Uru's clean dismissal of his kindly tone, Risel suppressed the rising urge to kill and gazed at the stars visible through the tent gap.
'If I'd only reached the 3rd Circle...'
Only his bitterness deepened.
At that moment, a man entered the tent. It was Jin-cheon. In his hands, using large leaves as makeshift bowls, he carried an assortment of fruits.
"Step aside."
Thanks to his abnormally stout, wide frame, Uru was blocking Jin-cheon's path, and Jin-cheon spoke quietly to him.
"This is how ya eat it."
Chew, chew.
Uru, going so far as to tear off a piece of meat and mime eating it himself, could not even hear Jin-cheon's voice.
Srrring.
With a hair-raising ring of steel, the Hwandudaedo slid about a third of the way out of its scabbard, and Uru's head whipped toward Jin-cheon.
"Ah! You've come!"
Clack.
Still, Uru did respond to the sound of a weapon. Without a word, Jin-cheon slid the sword back in and settled onto the ground, setting down the fruits he'd brought.
"Eat."
Jin-cheon pushed the fruits he'd gathered in front of Haidia and spoke in a short, commanding tone. Uru shook his head and opened his mouth with a triumphant voice.
"You think a few fruits are gonna cut it? The Celestial Maiden is gonna eat rabbit."
"......."
No matter how he looked at it, Uru felt proud and superior, certain his food was better. But it didn't take long for his smug expression to crumple into a teary one. It was because Haidia, bowing her head to Jin-cheon, had reached for the fruits.
"Why......"
"Mm."
In contrast to Uru, who was sinking into despair, a smile crept across Jin-cheon's face. Risel watched the two of them carrying on so pointlessly and clicked his tongue as he consoled Uru, explaining why Haidia had chosen the fruits.
"Uru, she does not eat meat. Her diet is solely vegetables and fruits. If you intended to prepare something like this, shouldn't you have come to ask me first?"
"What?"
"Because you weren't to be found, didn't Master himself go into the forest earlier to prepare a meal for her?"
"......."
Only then did Uru recall his encounter with Jin-cheon before entering the forest. In other words, Jin-cheon had known all along and still let him go hunting. A gaze tinged with resentment turned toward Jin-cheon, but Jin-cheon kept an utterly indifferent expression and remarked.
"The meat is tender. Well cooked."
"......."
In Jin-cheon's hand was the roasted rabbit Uru had prepared with so much care.