Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 157
Chapter Title: Tulguur's Black Walls
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“Qaraunas, you say? Isn't that a bit excessive...”
Qaraunas.
During the time the Lichtenauer Martial Clan traded lesser dragon byproducts with the Southern Continent, it was the plundering unit from the Khan Empire dispatched alongside Viscount Jidanta.
Though disgraced at the Lichtenauer estate, Qaraunas remained the unyielding elites of the Khan Empire.
Deploying that ferocious unit—ranked among the top twenty in the Khan Empire—just to escort some noble from the Fang Kingdom?
Arslan deemed it overkill and tried to dissuade Kaidu, but...
“Arslan.”
Kaidu merely addressed him again in a calm, even tone.
“I ordered the deployment of Qaraunas.”
“...My apologies, Your Highness! I shall carry out your command.”
Sensing the color drain from Kaidu's voice, Arslan hurriedly bowed his head.
He then promptly summoned a subordinate and dispatched him to relay Kaidu's will to Qaraunas.
Watching the whole exchange, Kaidu muttered quietly to himself.
“This country needs a shake-up. How do they expect to move forward, clinging forever to dusty old traditions? Damn it.”
Waiting patiently for a weary foe to submit on their own—what a frustrating, inefficient mess.
They'd never catch Siegfried with such a sluggish approach.
Now behold his way.
Countless Fang Kingdom nobles, defiant for ages, were handing over their pride and souls for a handful of coins he'd tossed their way.
Ignoring such a simple path was sheer idiocy.
...Soon, the Eastern Continent's Javak will be wholly mine.
Once that happened, Siegfried... that lowly cur... he'd never again suffer this accursed sense of defeat.
No, that won't be the end.
He'd devour even the barbaric Northern Continent, etching his name eternally in Agena's history as the eternal Conquest King.
Not Siegfried's—his own.
Kurrrumble...!!
Thunder rumbled from the swelling thunderheads, right on cue.
Drip, drip!
Kaidu glanced skyward at the first pattering drops.
The pitch-black clouds promptly unleashed a torrent.
Shoooaaaah!!!
Kahorin's imperial citizens scattered for cover amid the sudden deluge, but Kaidu savored the storm.
Unlike them, he had no cause to flee the onrushing gale.
“Fine weather indeed.”
Rain or no rain, Kaidu's carriage pressed on relentlessly.
From Viscount Sozen's territory of Dravia to the Fang Kingdom's capital, Tulguur, the journey was short.
Even by carriage alone, sans magic circle, it took less than a month.
Dravia's geographic adjacency to Tulguur played a part, but the root cause was simpler: the Fang Kingdom simply wasn't that vast.
“Captain, the walls are coming into view!”
“That's Tulguur. But... those walls are awfully black? Some kind of special magic treatment?”
The Latent Dragon Squad's shout reached Ian's ears as he fine-tuned their schedule with Viscount Sozen inside the carriage.
Viscount Sozen—not Ian—addressed the squad's puzzlement.
“The black walls stem from another cause entirely.”
Cracking open the carriage window to freshen the stale air, Viscount Sozen leaned out and explained.
“Tulguur: our capital's name, and it means 'Final Bastion.' No mere coincidence. For centuries, this land has thwarted the Khan Empire's relentless coaxing and invasions.”
“What does that have to do with the walls being black?”
Dane, suspecting no magic at play, pressed Viscount Sozen, who replied without a hint of irritation.
“Everything. Those walls blackened from the accumulated scars of countless battles. Layer upon layer of magic blasts and cannon fire discolored the stone.”
“Whoa...”
The Latent Dragon Squad let out unguarded awe.
Easier said than done—how many sieges must those walls have weathered to turn the entire expanse pitch-black?
“Those walls are Tulguur's pride, the Fang Kingdom's emblem of unbreakable resolve.”
Pride rang through Viscount Sozen's voice.
But only for a moment.
Fleeting anger and regret shadowed his features.
“...Though lately, a few loaches have muddied that spirit.”
“Loaches cloud the water, yet they keep the riverbed from rotting.”
Ian, quietly observing the viscount, chimed in.
“Crisis and opportunity are kin. Resolve this affair cleanly, and the Fang Kingdom may unite stronger than ever. I'm certain of it.”
Best to excise rotten flesh early, before it festers.
Ian visiting now—before the traitors mushroomed like poison—might prove a heaven-sent chance.
Yes.
Grip!
Ian clenched his fist, resolve hardening.
Lien. You're surely spying on my every move through your lackeys. Watch well. See if I still merit mastery over you all.
All would hinge on Tulguur's outcome.
“Hmm, hmmm~~~”
Opulent chamber.
Tableware and vanity brimmed with Southern Continent alchemy, embossed in exquisite patterns; the chandelier, gold-plated, lent an air of even greater nobility.
A glamorous woman, every bit the room's equal, hummed merrily as her maid brushed her light-green tresses.
“Should've chosen this path sooner.”
She chided her former self.
Unlike her hollow past—name without substance—now she basked in wealth befitting her title.
Indeed.
This lavish dream was the true life of a 'duchess' she'd always envisioned.
Not that dreary grind of duties eclipsing rights.
Knock, knock!
“Madam, it's me. Preparations nearing completion?”
A splendidly attired man entered the duchess's chambers.
“Time to head to the palace soon... Nearly all the other noble ladies have arrived.”
Spotting him, the duchess greeted him warmly.
“Oh, darling! That outfit suits you perfectly! No wonder—Khan Empire took such care with their gift. Worlds apart.”
At mention of the Khan Empire, the man's face darkened.
“...Madam. I wore it at your behest, but... it still chafes.”
He reached to shed the Khan Empire's garb.
“Still not come to your senses?”
The duchess's expression turned venomous in an instant.
“Gratitude for kindness is basic decency. You ignore their thoughtful gestures, fixating only on suspicion toward the Khan Empire?”
“Madam, I've said it before: Khan folk wear two faces. These gifts surely hide ulterior motives...”
“I!!”
The duchess cut her husband short.
“A woman like me, far from statecraft, knows little of what they did to you. Truth be told, I no longer care to.”
Her icy words flowed on.
“What have you done for me and our children? You emptied your coffers, toiling selflessly for the kingdom's people. And their repayment?”
“......”
Her husband's ideals loomed distant, vague.
The Khan Empire's benevolence, near and concrete.
Chasing those ideals alongside him... Duchess Alvaret had endured too many grueling years.
“Darling, shed that blind enmity. We're not surrendering—just fostering ties. What threatens you so? That barren pride crumbling, not a speck of flour to its name?”
“......”
“Mark my words: at the palace, I'll tell every noble wife. How much changed by grasping the Khan Empire's hand. The years wasted on husbands' futile stubbornness. Time to claim recompense—for all those lost years. Loud and clear.”
“...I'll emerge once ready.”
Unable to retort fully amid her tirade, Duke Alvaret shut the door.
“...Hoo. No easy task.”
A deep sigh escaped Duke Alvaret's lips.
Never once had he imagined supping from the Khan Empire's table.
Nor did he now.
Not for his own sake.
But.
His wife and children in mind... he couldn't spurn the gifts now proffered.
A lifetime as failure of a husband, inept father.
Wrong path though it was, their blooming smiles let him postpone the truth: just one more day, only one...
Two years had slipped by.
“...Palace first. Viscount Sozen claims he's found a way to halt Yeo's plundering...”
Sighing, Duke Alvaret donned the gifted outer robe from the Khan Empire.
Once it prickled like crawling vermin.
Still ill-fitting, yet... no longer so repulsive.
Why, he himself could not say.
Babble, bustle!
The port teemed, not a footfall's space amid the throng.
Navigating the gaps proved arduous; merchants hustled desperately to snag patrons.
“Straight from Oscella's Western Continent—Dharma Kingdom's piping-hot talismans! Boosts health, sharpens wits!”
“Orc fangs and troll blood from Aslan Kingdom! Step right up—today's special bargain!!”
Petty traders hawking trifles from freshly docked mainland vessels.
“Hoh, so this is the leather from Dufer Empire?”
“Indeed. Quality leaped since before, hasn't it?”
“Hoh... Might need to switch suppliers. This caliber at that price...”
Even guildmasters mulling wholesale shifts.
This merchant mecca: the Khan Empire's Galaxy Harbor, Yinhepo.
A colossal flow of goods dwarfing Fang Kingdom's sleepy fishermen's Dawn Harbor—comparison itself an insult.
Stark proof of the power gulf. Amid it, a lone skiff docked.
No eyes turned its way.
Galaxy Harbor sprawled rivaling lesser fiefs.
Dockings? Common as breaths.
Thud, thud!
The group disembarked; merchants, eyes bloodshot for fresh marks—er, customers—swarmed like flies.
“Welcome aboard—er, ashore! Rough voyage? One troll blood shot'll fix you right...?”
Pitch half-rehearsed in their sleep, yet the merchant faltered midway.
“......”
Those eyes.
Ferocious as a starving wolf pack; words died unspoken.
Merchants rooted till the group vanished from sight.
“Oi, clear the way!”
Poke, poke!
Blocking the bustle earned no kind words.
Only after they'd faded did breath return.
“Hah, huff!!”
“G-Good lord... eyes like that on a man?”
“Dunno. Whew, day's shot.”
Tension ebbing, merchants mopped cold sweat and packed up.
Such folk spelled ill omens.
“...Sharp instincts.”
Snort!
Iron Fang's captain, Kardo, smirked at their primal wariness.
Persistent nagging? Throats slit.
One sales pitch? Forgivable leeway.
Foreign soil, after all.
“Captain, your orders?”
“What kind of question is that?”
Kardo replied as if obvious to the squadmate's query.
“Comb every trace for Ian and any Lichtenauer ties entering. Legally? They'd pass through Galaxy Harbor.”
Textbook.
The Khan Empire permitted Eastern Continent access solely via Yinhepo.
“And if nothing?”
“Then... smugglers. All the better for us.”
Kardo grinned at the follow-up.
“No official entry record? No one points fingers our way.”
That grin gleamed feral as a wolf's.