Chapter 317: The Tin Knight and the Meaning of the Sacred Treasures (9)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 317: The Tin Knight and the Meaning of the Sacred Treasures (9)
Once upon a time, long, long ago.
There was a great war that spanned the Heavenly Realm and the Underground.
The Heavenly Realm was victorious, and the Underground was defeated.
However, it was not the power of the Heavenly Realm that decided the outcome.
The generals of the Underground were far too powerful, and the four wings, the pride of the Heavenly Realm, could do no more than defeat half of them.
The strength of those who lived in comfortable, gentle light could not overcome the strength of those who lived in the harsh environment deep beneath the earth.
Had the Queen of Ashes not been there, had she not united the surviving humans on the surface into a single force.
Had the strongest knight not been there, had he not literally burned his own body to subjugate four of the Underground's generals.
The blades of the Underground might have reached the Heavenly Realm, finally fulfilling their long-held desire for revenge.
The Heavenly Realm was shocked by the result.
They were astonished by the unimaginable resentment harbored by the people of the Underground, and by the latent power shown by the surface humans, whom they had regarded as mere insects crawling on the ground.
The war with the Underground was not truly over.
As long as the king who ruled the Underground existed, as long as the chancellor who advised him existed, they would one day gather their strength and turn their blades toward the Heavenly Realm again.
The Heavenly Realm began to prepare for that day.
They sent their people to the surface, which they had previously regarded with indifference, and gradually secured their influence.
Because the healing power of the Heavenly Realm was so precious to those suffering from the aftereffects of the war, infiltration was all too easy.
Even after securing their influence, there was still much to be done.
They began to erase the records of the old war. ─The story of how the Heavenly Realm had once abandoned the surface to save only themselves vanished from history.
They incited discord among the powers on the surface. ─Nations powerful enough to threaten the Heavenly Realm quickly fell to ruin, and the pace of technological advancement slowed to a snail's pace.
They hunted the people of the Underground who remained on the surface, defining them not as sentient beings but as magic beasts, and spread this notion far and wide. ─Any chance of reconciliation and cooperation between the surface and the Underground was crushed in its infancy.
The strategy of dividing and conquering was truly efficient, and in this way, they bought themselves nearly a thousand years.
However, this too reached its limit.
The Four Great Witches appeared, possessing both power that the Heavenly Realm could not dismiss and lifespans long enough to notice the historical distortions perpetrated by the heavens.
The witches' existence led to the birth of two great powers, the Empire and the Magic State. These two nations, which should have clashed and shattered each other, instead began to strengthen themselves in peace under a wise ruler known as the Iron Blood Emperor.
The Heavenly Realm felt a sense of crisis.
But at the same time, they saw it as an opportunity.
For they had prepared for such a day, scattering bombs across the surface.
Those bombs bore the name of the eight sacred treasures.
Those bombs were tasked with enthralling people with their immense power, inducing them to fight one another to possess them.
A pandemonium where blood called for blood and desire consumed desire was exactly what they had hoped for.
However, the journey to collect the sacred treasures proceeded far more quickly than they had planned.
One faction would obtain a sacred treasure, another would steal it, and a bystander, growing interested, would gather people to join the fray.
This process should have repeated several times, allowing resentment to fester and a stage for revenge and greed to be set. But because the apprentice of the Witch of the East and her party handled matters with such lightning speed, the great war between powerful nations that the Heavenly Realm had anticipated never came to pass.
The Heavenly Realm's method of indirect interference was good for minimizing risk when necessary, but it had the limitation of making it difficult to correct the course with direct intervention when things went awry like this.
Nevertheless, though disappointed, they did not despair.
Their first purpose had come to nothing, but that was not the only role of the sacred treasures.
The condition for activating the second purpose, the second role of the sacred treasures, was simple.
The eight sacred treasures must be gathered in close proximity, and a certain amount of time must pass.
And that condition was met on a night when the long festival was finally drawing to a close.
“Huh? S-Sir! Something's wrong with the sacred treasures!”
“What? Wait, why is it…?! Wake up all the unit members, now! Call the court mages, too!”
The first to notice the anomaly were the sentries guarding the royal treasury.
They were no mere soldiers.
They were Imperial Guard knights, handpicked by Alonso himself to prevent the unfortunate and absurd disaster of having the hard-won sacred treasures stolen again.
As if to prove that Alonso's judgment was sound, they reacted instantly the moment the sacred treasures in the vault began to glow.
Their judgment and response were not wrong, but unfortunately, they lacked the capacity to deal with this situation.
The seven sacred treasures, which had been emitting a faint light and immense mana, suddenly unleashed a tremendous shockwave.
KWWAAAAAAANG!
The knights were thrown back as if swept up in a storm, and the treasury collapsed with a deafening roar, as if a bomb had detonated inside.
Around the same time.
At a certain villa on the outskirts of the royal capital.
The party, staying in a royal building provided by the king at Dorothea's request—as she loathed noisy places—all opened their eyes at once, as if on cue.
Sensing the unusual surge of mana, they immediately ran to Sophia's room, where they found her collapsed on the floor.
“Miss Sophia!”
Adelaide let out a shrill scream.
One glance was enough to see that Sophia was not well.
Her face, which always wore a gentle smile, was contorted in pain, and her body was drenched in a cold sweat.
This was the same Sophia who had calmly endured having some of her fingers broken, so the entire party realized that whatever was happening to her now was no small matter.
A moment later.
Something burst out from near Sophia's heart with a pop, then floated into the air.
It was an exceedingly sinister chalice, as if forged from pure, crimson blood itself.
The Tin Knight, as if sensing something, reached out to grab the chalice, but it evaded his grasp by a hair's breadth and flew out the window.
Not only that, but the Animal Compass Dorothea wore at her waist also moved to follow it.
The crimson light of the wine-red chalice mingled with the other sacred treasures that had flown in from somewhere. The colors of the eight sacred treasures embroidered the air.
The four compasses drew an emerald square, enclosing the sacred treasures.
And within that square, around the eight sacred treasures, phantoms began to materialize.
─Opium.
Behind the pitch-black obsidian key, a phantom of a succubus exuding bewitching allure appeared.
─Tuberose.
Behind the deep, wine-colored chalice, a phantom of a languid vampire appeared.
─Haider.
Behind the gloomy, navy-blue gloves, a phantom of a small, stubborn dwarf appeared.
─Amaryllis.
Behind the blazing orange belt, a phantom of a mountain-like giant appeared.
─Borealis.
Behind the sparkling silver shoes, a phantom of a flower-like fairy in a dress appeared.
─Lilium.
Behind the messy green pouch, a phantom of a dryad with twig-like limbs appeared.
─Dicondra.
Behind the bracelet with a smooth, mirror-like surface, a phantom of a doppelgänger whose features constantly shifted appeared.
─Dracaena.
Behind the ring shining with majestic gold, a phantom of a dragon looking down on all creation with disdain appeared.
Witnessing the impossible phenomenon, the witch's mouth fell open.
Sensing the power within them, the lion felt a chill.
Understanding the phantoms' identities, the scarecrow's eyes filled with concern.
And the Tin Knight…
gripped the hilt of his sword tightly.
His metal body, his limbs, his heart—all of him was sounding an alarm, warning him again and again to be wary of those before him.
The eight generals of the Underground.
The strongest commanders who had led the soldiers of the Underground during the great war of the past.
However, the Tin Knight knew.
Right now, they were nothing more than remnants.
Their flesh had already been destroyed; all that remained was a fragment of their souls and their power.
They were too faint to be called the eight generals in their entirety.
It was the Heavenly Realm that created the eight sacred treasures.
It was the Heavenly Realm that guided others to collect them.
If so, this situation must also be the will of the Heavenly Realm, but the Tin Knight found it difficult to guess their intentions.
And that question was soon answered.
In what was, in a sense, the worst possible way.
Deep in the night, beneath the jet-black sky, something revealed itself.
It had the form of a woman.
It had large wings.
It had dozens of hats floating around it.
An appearance that a stranger could only call an angel.
However, the Tin Knight's party knew its identity.
Langwidere.
Once Sophia's disciple, the girl who had sold herself to the Heavenly Realm to protect her master.
Her face, completely different from the innocent and earnest one of her childhood, was filled with boredom and tedium as she took a bright green hat and placed it on her head.
The change was dramatic.
The face that had been full of tedium now wore a vibrant smile, as if it had found a new amusement.
But her eyes glittered with a deeply unsettling and wicked light.
《～～～～～!!》
As the strings of the violin in Langwidere's hands quivered, a fierce yet beautiful melody flowed out.
And as if in response to that melody, an emerald wave spread throughout the entire royal capital.
“Everyone, get to me!”
Dorothea shouted sharply, and her companions reacted at once.
She slammed her staff to the ground, and a hemispherical barrier formed, protecting the party from the unidentified wave.
But the generals of the Underground were not so fortunate.
Struck directly by the emerald wave, the phantoms of the eight generals clutched their heads or staggered, writhing in pain.
The longer the performance continued, the stronger the wave became, and the sparks erupting around the eight generals' bodies grew more intense.
The eight generals tried to escape the wave, but the prison of light created by the four compasses held them fast.
Adelaide spoke, bewildered.
“Wh-what in the world is she doing?”
Dorothea answered in a sharp tone.
“What do you think? It’s torture.”
Her voice was on edge, clearly displeased with the scene unfolding before her.
“Spiritual fragments, remnants, lingering thoughts, soul shards—call them whatever you want. The souls of the eight generals were dwelling within the eight sacred treasures, and now those bastards are forcibly dragging them out and torturing them for all to see.”
“Why would they do something so cruel…?”
“How should I know? I get that they hold a grudge since they fought a war long ago, but to do it so publicly like this, what’s the point—?”
Dorothea’s words stopped.
As if struck by a realization, her lips trembled, her face a mask of shock.
Sophia, her expression grave, finished the thought.
“—It may be meaningless to the people of the surface. But what about from the perspective of the people of the Underground?”
What if they saw their generals, the heroes who had fought more fiercely than anyone, captured and tormented by their enemies?
What if those enemies were the very same ones they held in contempt, unworthy of even a shred of respect?
The answer was obvious.
Even if they knew rationally that they should endure it. Even if they understood it was a trap.
There was no way they could simply stand by and watch.
As if to prove it, a shadow fell over the land.
As if to deny the turquoise night sky, a dense darkness began to stretch out from the Underground, wildly consuming its surroundings.
[The Tin Knight warns you to prepare yourselves!]
It wasn't his usual cheerful tone, but a sharp word of caution.
Yet, no one could say it was an overreaction.
Beneath the earth.
Somewhere so deep it could never be reached by a common shovel.
Something… was using the shadows as a bridge to approach the surface.
─Rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble-rumble!