Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: The Flood Trap
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The lizardmen shouted urgently and moved to sound the alarm.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
In an instant, their bodies burst apart, and the lizardmen collapsed lifelessly to the ground, unable to fulfill their purpose.
…Rustle!
A moment later, a group of orcs slowly emerged from behind the trees.
"Chwiik! You mad bastards. Lighting a fire at this hour—are you begging to be killed?"
Pargderd, a warrior of the Yellow Flame Tribe, clicked his tongue in disbelief as he kicked aside the sprawled lizardmen corpses.
Building a fire at this pitch-black hour, when not a single point of light pierced the darkness, was tantamount to exposing their position to the enemy.
It was bad enough that they hadn't extinguished an existing fire—instead, they'd started one themselves. To Pargderd, it looked like they were practically pleading for death.
"Chwik, chwik. Lizard scum... I was on edge hearing you'd taken down Lord Jorg and Lord Turka, but to think it was just this level. I can report some good news to the Golden Eye boss soon."
…Rumble…
Just then, as Pargderd grinned in satisfaction, a faint noise and vibration reached his ears.
"Chwik? Did I hear that wrong?"
Pargderd muttered nonchalantly, digging into his ear with his pinky finger.
It was the dead of night, when everyone except the sentries should be asleep.
And they'd already dealt with those sentries—there shouldn't be anyone else moving around besides them.
But.
…Rumble rumble rumble!!!
He hadn't misheard.
The faint tremor had swelled into a violent quake shaking the entire ground beneath their feet.
"Chwik, what the—?!"
"Gr-grrruk!! L-Lord Pargderd! L-Look over there!!"
One of the Gold Stream trolls deployed on this mission screamed, and Pargderd's gaze naturally followed.
Then, he let out a shout of horror.
"Ch-chwiiiik!! Everyone, evade!!"
But Pargderd's booming voice was soon swallowed by an even greater roar.
Kwaaaaaaaa!!!
Swoosh!
Atop the hill.
A lizardman watching the scene below through a telescope quietly spoke up.
"
…Kerruk! Just as you predicted, Lord Septimus—they've mostly been swept away."
"Kukukuku! Of course they have. How could those brainless pigs resist such tasty bait right in front of them?"
After the Sea King commanded all the Four Dragon Envoys to block the waterways, Septimus had unleashed the water he'd dammed up over three days in one go.
One might think three days was short, but the land route was no mere stream.
Three days here amassed enough water to fill a small hill.
With that immense force bursting forth at once, there was no way the swept-away pigs could survive.
Septimus, the Six-Eared lizardman whose scales shimmered red, gazed coldly at the orcs being carried off by the floodwaters.
"Idiot pigs... After ambushing Quintus's territory like that, did they really think the same trick would work again?"
After Quintus's departure, all the Four Dragon Envoys had dammed the river, creating an environment utterly unlike what the orcs expected.
And that wasn't all.
No matter how elite a group, there were always rotten elements lurking somewhere.
They'd used those worthless, slack-jawed subordinates as bait, stationing them in areas where water once flowed.
Septimus had predicted that those degenerates' corrupt minds would lead them to light a fire themselves.
And sure enough, the bait had lit up, luring the orcs straight into the death trap with their own feet.
This was Mud Clan's territory.
How could the Gold Stream orcs have guessed that the spot they'd been drawn to was once riverbed?
With lizardmen present, they'd assumed it was just somewhere in the land route territory.
Especially in the dim visibility, with the lizardmen lighting a fire themselves—no room for doubt.
"Kukuku!! How could ignorant pigs who only wander mountains and forests foresee such advanced tactics?"
Mud Clan's influence stretched beyond the vast Amatres River to the Western Sea.
Their perspective was worlds apart from mountain boars huddled in narrow valleys.
"Kerruk! Lord Septimus, a few surviving orcs are visible. What are your orders?"
"Kuku! Why ask something so obvious?"
Shring!
Septimus drew his saw-like sword with jagged, missing teeth and flashed a cruel smile.
"Kill every last one without mercy. Show them exactly how foolish it was to挑戰 Mud Clan."
Splatter!
Led by Septimus, he and the land-route lizardmen plunged mercilessly into the surviving orcs' midst.
Slash! Slash!
"Chwiiiik!!"
Orcs screamed and fell to Septimus's jagged blade.
He wielded this battered sword for one reason: ordinary blades merely cut flesh, but his tore it away.
Amplifying the agony manyfold.
Lick!
"Now... I'll sever your heads to soothe Quintus's spirit."
Septimus licked the blood-soaked blade, his smile laced with madness.
Similar scenes unfolded across the Daesuhae.
In mountains and forests, lizardmen were crushed like squid jerky under boulders rolled by Gold Stream orcs; in the Amatres River's tributaries, orcs drowned to become fish food.
The stench of blood rising from the Daesuhae... grew ever thicker.
From the Daesuhae's central region down to the south, amid the thick fog of blood scent.
There was one territory untouched by the reek of blood.
The vast desert in the far north: the Great Wastes.
Whiiiiiing!
A dry wind laden with sand battered his face.
"
…Kuku! Is it because I've been in that humid air for so long? My skin already feels aged after just this short time."
The dark elf faced the familiar yet deeply unpleasant wind with a wry smile.
The Great Wastes spanned a third of the Daesuhae, yet its environment was profoundly hostile to life.
The central and southern regions teemed with monsters scrambling to survive against rival forces, but the north waged a daily battle against the desert itself.
'...But it's almost over.'
Crunch!
Dark elf Aelion clenched his fist.
To escape this barren wasteland—for his kin... and for the Earth Dragon soon to awaken.
He'd risked his life infiltrating south and completing the mission.
"It's fine..."
Aelion repeated it to himself like a mantra.
The Great Wastes' Second Finger, Dooji.
Their leader was wise, sagacious... and compassionate.
Surely she would find a way to rescue Biyona, enduring untold hardships on that mission.
Absolutely.
"
...Let's go."
Clutching that fragile hope, Aelion led the dark elves onward across the parched sands.
Crunch, crunch…
With each step, the sand crumbled feebly beneath their feet.
How many sunrises and moonsets passed?
Finally, Aelion and the dark elves arrived at a desolate expanse dotted only with withered, fruitless trees and boulders.
No fingernail-sized sign of life anywhere, but in this forlorn land of endless sand, even dry trees were a mercy.
…Slide!
"For the glory of this land's return."
At the precise center where three barren trees formed a triangle.
Aelion placed his hand on a casually placed stone, infused it with mana, and slowly chanted the incantation.
Wooooong!
Mystical light began to glow faintly from beneath the stone.
In that ethereal glow, the desert sands at their feet parted.
Shraaaaa!
An astonishing sight, yet Aelion and the dark elves plunged into the sandy crevice without flinching, as if routine.
…Shraaa.
Once the last dark elf entered, the sands sealed shut seamlessly.
In the parted sands' depths.
A colossal cavern, inconceivable beneath a desert, welcomed Aelion's group.
A barren space seemingly unfit for life.
Yet the black shadows lurking in the darkness everywhere proved this was the dark elves' stronghold.
Swoosh!
"We have returned, Lady Drakelas."
At the cavern's heart.
After a long trek, Aelion arrived and knelt reverently.
Before Aelion.
"Oh, Aelion. You've endured a long journey—truly, you've suffered much."
The seasoned female elf called Drakelas, her silver-gray hair neatly braided, welcomed him amid attendants.
"The winds whispered to me: in Daesuhae's south, fools have begun clashing just as our grand scheme intended. This is all your doing."
Drakelas chuckled heartily, bursting with delight.
'...Good. She's in high spirits.'
Heartened by her reaction, Aelion cautiously spoke.
"Lady Drakelas... There's one request I wish to make."
"Hm? That's rare. You seldom voice desires—now a request?"
Drakelas gazed warmly at Aelion, a smile playing on her lips.
"Very well, Aelion. What do you ask of this old woman?"
"Actually..."
Aelion began slowly recounting the mission's events.
The fierce battle with Turka leaving him gravely wounded; Olga's foolish blunder nearly exposing everything, and his desperate efforts to cover the traces.
And because of that... his adjutant Biyona had been captured by humans.
"Heavens... I never dreamed such things occurred. You've truly suffered greatly."
Drakelas patted Aelion's shoulder approvingly.
"To push through with your injuries, laboring day and night to complete the mission. Lord Karaktus, awakening soon, will remember your merits. Thus, our dark elves shall claim the Earth Dragon's greatest favor."
Heheheh!
Drakelas laughed boisterously, plainly pleased.
Aelion didn't want to sour his superior's—and clan's elder's—mood, but this wasn't the response he sought.
So he spoke again.
"Lady Drakelas, please permit me to go rescue Biyona."
"Hm...?"
Drakelas's eyes widened, then she slowly—but firmly—shook her head.
"Heh heh, Aelion. That won't do."
"
…Why not...!!"
Aelion gnashed his teeth, growling like a beast.
After all his efforts for the Great Wastes, why deny even this small wish?
Before Aelion could voice it, Drakelas cut him off.
"Surely you don't ask out of ignorance."
"……!"
"This was my plan, which you executed. So you know how much preparation went into this scheme."
He knew all too well.
Far too well.
That's why he'd staked his life to eliminate that white ghost, Turka.
That's why he'd dragged his half-crippled body to clean up Olga's mess.
"The Fourth Finger, Galtrow of the Ringless, will face severe reprimand for this mission's failure. After such results from a joint operation, he won't dare show his face. Do you intend to drag me—and all our dark elves—down the same path?"
"……!!"
Confirming Aelion's stiffened expression, Drakelas continued with deep pity.
"Aelion, I share your sorrow for Biyona. She's clever and capable. But... would that child truly wish to ruin the plan her superior barely salvaged, all for her alone?"
"……."
"Sacrifices are inevitable in war. She wouldn't want one person to cast a shadow over our clan's future."
"
…Understood."
His bitten lip burst, a thin trickle of red blood trailing down his chin.
"I'll keep it in mind."
"Good. Rest well and compose yourself. This matter... is truly regrettable."
"……."
Unable to contain his frustration, Aelion wordlessly stormed from the chamber.
"Such insolence...!!"
Other dark elves moved to seize him, but.
"Tsk tsk. Let him go."
Drakelas clicked her tongue lowly, halting them.
This was likely Aelion's utmost act of defiance.
"Tsk tsk... Swayed by personal sentiments like that—how can I entrust him with great tasks?"
The Great Wastes' Five Fingers competed endlessly.
And Drakelas... was the woman who had triumphed to claim Second Finger.
If she handled this matter well and aided Lord Karaktus's revival... she could finally surpass that thorn Arckandor and seize the Thumb's seat.
But to botch it all for one young elf girl?
Absurd.
'Once this is over... I'll deal with her at the right moment.'
Resolving to dispose of Aelion soon, Drakelas lost herself imagining the rosy future ahead.
Biyona was long forgotten in her mind.
Swish, swish!
He honed the blades of his black and white swords.
"Huuu..."
Ian exhaled deeply, in peak condition like never before.
His instincts screamed.
This war would be the greatest since his reincarnation.
And it would be the foundation for him to become master of this vast iron-blooded house.
The day of departure was now just one away.