Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Turmoil in Western Heaven
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The Great Floodplains were home to a diverse array of races.
Each race had its own unique traits, so the landscape varied wildly depending on which monsters had claimed the territory.
Yet, if one had to pick the most incongruous spot amid those vast floodplains, it would be this place.
Western Heaven.
It was the most neatly ordered space within the floodplains, a perfect reflection of the Aslan Kingdom's advanced civilization.
The kingdom's elite forces were permanently stationed here, and it was a stable territory secured through negotiations with Regulus, the great craftsman of the Turbid Flow.
Both the kingdom and Regulus reaped significant benefits from Western Heaven, so they jointly maintained strict security.
This had allowed the residents to live without ever truly feeling the floodplains' infamous dangers.
Or at least, that had been the case until just a few days ago.
Snap!
"Aaagh!"
The elf's knees buckled under the brutal lash, unable to endure any longer.
"Kerrrrk! Spit out the truth already!"
The orc's lizardman showed no mercy for the elf's plight and raised his club once more.
"What in the world is the meaning of this?!"
A raggedly dressed dwarf threw his arms wide, blocking the fallen elf.
The dwarf's clothes were no better, but his innate robustness put him leagues ahead of the elf.
Better for him to take the beating.
Yet the injustice burned all the same, so the dwarf bellowed in protest.
"Even if you suspect us, this is too much! Nothing's been proven yet! How can you treat us—who have a pact with Great Craftsman Regulus—like this?!"
"Kerrrrk! You're getting beaten because you won't tell the truth! Confess now! If you beg for mercy, Lord Regulus has promised leniency this once—don't squander his grace!"
The lizardman threatened again, but the dwarf didn't budge an inch.
Leniency? Utter nonsense.
The moment they admitted guilt on faith, Western Heaven would be marked as Regulus's scapegoat if things went south.
Of course, letting it drag on might lead to the same outcome anyway... but at least they didn't need to falsely confess first. Lies would only tarnish the dwarf's honor.
"We've told you a hundred times it wasn't us! We're stakeholders in the Amatres River too! You're barking up the completely wrong tree... Gahk!"
The dwarf's retort cut short as agony exploded in his gut.
"Kerrk! How dare you raise your voice?!"
Thud! Thud!
The lizardman relentlessly kicked the dwarf's stomach. Similar atrocities were unfolding all across Western Heaven.
Those dispatched here had finally tasted the floodplains' true terror in these short few days.
"Hmmm..."
In Western Heaven's grand conference hall.
Unlike usual, a lone lizardman sat with his chin propped up in this vital space where human, dwarf, and elf leaders exchanged views.
His frame was 1.5 times larger than an average lizardman's, packed with dense, unyielding muscle that spoke volumes of his exceptional nature.
But what stood out even more were his eyes—brimming with sharp intelligence that belied his lizardman appearance.
"No matter how hard we press, they all swear innocence?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"Hmmm..."
Oro Great Craftsman Regulus stared piercingly at the map before him, unconvinced.
"Here, and here, and here... Something's off. Suspicious as hell. These guys seemed the most likely culprits."
Regulus couldn't shake the growing doubt eroding his convictions.
The map was marked with numbers: fourteen, sixteen, twenty-seven.
These were minor tributaries branching from the Oro—the fifth main stream.
They shared two common traits.
First, they lay not far south of the Western Heaven he'd permitted.
Second, pollution had been confirmed spreading from them.
And third: venturing further down would bring one to Gold Heaven's domain.
In short, suspects could include both Western Heaven and Gold Heaven.
But Regulus immediately ruled out Gold Heaven.
Orcs were born warriors, their heads stuffed with muscle over brains—simple brutes.
He didn't believe they had the cunning to poison the river, and more importantly, they depended on the Amatres just like everyone else.
No motive for them to foul their own lifeline.
So he'd targeted Western Heaven without hesitation, but the atmosphere felt all wrong.
Humans could lie, sure—but dwarves and elves viewed deception as utter shame.
One or two, maybe... but all claiming innocence? That demanded serious consideration.
'Bardek and Glacia even said they'd request aid from the Lichtenauer Martial Clan to prove their innocence... No innocent would risk that.'
His subordinates fretted over potential reinforcements from the clan, but Regulus felt no such worry.
Wars needed ironclad justification.
No sane leader would ignite all-out war with the Turbid Flow and Lichtenauer Martial Clan over something this flimsy.
"So they're really innocent... Damn it all."
Regulus pinched his brow against the throbbing headache.
If the Lichtenauers investigated and exposed the truth, he'd swallow his pride, apologize, and compensate.
But if it remained unsolved and reached the Sea King's ears... he'd have no choice but to sacrifice them.
To save his own skin.
Though it'd mean no more dealings with them ever after.
Knock knock!
A knock interrupted his brooding.
"Lord Regulus, the scouting party sent to check the tributaries has returned. Shall I let them in?"
Welcomed news amid his deliberations.
He couldn't just twiddle his thumbs on Western Heaven's word alone—these were the scouts from the polluted streams.
"Bring them in."
His curt reply brimmed with barely concealed anticipation; their report might hold the key.
Creeeak!
The returning lizardmen scouts bowed deeply before delivering their findings.
"As you ordered, we checked the three polluted tributaries. No trace of the guarding warriors—only charred corpses scattered about. It seems... they were ambushed and wiped out."
"...Ambushed?"
Regulus echoed them in uncharacteristic surprise.
Invading Turbid Flow territory in the Great Floodplains? That was a death wish.
Unless... it was a force vast enough to scoff at the Turbid Flow.
'...Gold Heaven after all? Golden Eye, that pig—bold enough to play that stupid?'
Now doubting his earlier assumptions, Regulus suddenly caught an oddity in the report.
"Wait—charred corpses?"
The scouts nodded as if he'd heard right.
"Yes. Every single one burned beyond recognition."
'Burned... burned. Why burn the bodies?'
Orcs revered their fallen warriors above all.
They saw returning to nature as the highest honor.
They'd never desecrate corpses with fire.
Burning hid identities, condemning them to nameless graves.
"...Hiding their identities?"
Regulus's eyes flashed.
He'd grasped a clue.
The boundary between the Great Floodplains' central and northern regions was clear-cut.
A distinct pass linked the center to the north.
Dragon's Gorge.
A massive chasm teeming with wyverns, drakes, lindwurms, tarasques, and other earth dragons.
These vicious, aggressive beasts boasted tough scales for sky-high defense and hulking sizes, making them notoriously hard to handle.
Lesser monsters steered clear, naturally turning the gorge into the divide between center and north.
In a dim cave tucked into the gorge's depths.
Dark elves and trolls gathered quietly—utterly out of place amid the dragons.
A month prior, they'd stirred chaos along the central-southern borders at the behest of the North's Five Fingers overlords.
Tap, tap, tap!
One dark elf, perched somewhere, fretted endlessly, drumming his foot with a hand to his temple.
"Urgh... Still far off?"
His fidgety squirming looked comical at first glance, but one look at his feet killed any laughter.
Earth dragon corpses lay piled like trash beneath him, blood-soaked.
Likely the cave's former owners.
Their sole crime: nesting in the spot chosen for this secret meet.
Shuruk!
Another dark elf emerged from the shadows as if always there, kneeling before the seated one atop the dragon pile.
"How'd it go?"
Aelion feigned calm but betrayed tension as he pressed for news. The returning elf replied politely.
"Smoothly, sir. With furious orc chieftains howling nonstop, Golden Eye's appointed Iron Face as vanguard. Gold Heaven's gearing up to strike the Turbid Flow."
"Yes!"
Smack!
Aelion slapped his knee in delight at the perfect report.
"Oh dear, what to do? Gold Heaven's all primed to hit the Turbid Flow, yet those lizardmen skip war prep to thrash innocents. See? Commanders are everything."
Olga growled low at Aelion's grating cackle.
"...Grrr. Shut that yap before I rip it off."
Olga—who'd led trolls to rattle the Turbid Flow—gripped his battle axe, radiating killing intent.
"My, got the chops to back that mouth?"
It fazed Aelion not a whit; their skills were evenly matched.
"Am I wrong? Razing the Amatres tributaries was fine—flashy, even fun to watch. But burning the corpses? Tsk tsk. Botch orc customs like that, and things snag."
Aelion piled on the reprimand.
"What if the Turbid Flow dawdles while Gold Heaven launches a full assault? That 'balanced' war tips hard one way. You can handle that fallout, right?"
"...Grrr!"
Olga's face flushed crimson with rage, but guilt silenced him.
'Damn it... Should've scattered orc bodies instead.'
He knew burning the corpses to erase traces was his blunder.
"Who knows? If the Turbid Flow gets pummeled, Gold Heaven might swallow their turf whole. Imagine the Fourth Finger's reaction to their assault captain botching this. With Great Karaktus watching, your rep in the gutter... They'll love that."
...Thud!
Olga's heart plummeted at Aelion's taunt.
The dark elf's jabs meant nothing.
Irritating, but ignorable.
But tarnishing the Fourth Finger? Unforgivable.
That one was Karaktus's sole faithful—the harbinger of his return.
Fall from grace there, and Olga's future died.
Swipe!
"Whoa, where to?"
Aelion smirked as if expecting it.
Olga yearned to smash that smug face but crushed the urge.
Fixing his mistake trumped that now.
"...Off to Turbid Flow turf. Scatter some orc corpses now—it'll help."
Late, but surely some lizardmen were still investigating.
Better yet, Olga hoped to clash with them.
Slaughter them, mix in orc bodies— even Turbid Flow couldn't ignore that.
Rectify now, and it could all vanish.
Stomp, stomp!
Trolls trailed after Olga.
Neither Aelion nor Olga dreamed that one offhand remark would drastically shift the floodplains' balance.
A vortex of chaos, entwining factions, began to engulf the Great Floodplains.