Chapter 320: The Tin Knight and The Revived Myth (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 320: The Tin Knight and The Revived Myth (2)
The eastern border of the Empire.
“Hold them back! Hold them back, no matter what!”
“Hold the line! If we can’t stop them here, our families will be in danger!”
It was an extreme situation. The commander, who usually just postured with a solemn air, was now screaming his lungs out, veins bulging in his neck. The officers, who normally seemed to do nothing, were now running around with swords in hand.
Nicole, a soldier of the Empire, thought to himself.
Did I drink too much last night? Am I still lost in a dream?
Smack!
“What are you spacing out for, Nicole?! Get back in formation, now!”
“Yes, ah, yes sir!”
But Nicole’s senior soldier didn’t allow him to escape into his daze.
Clutching a shield in one hand, Nicole stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his comrades, his body moving as it had been drilled to do. He stared ahead and swallowed hard.
A wave was crashing toward them.
It was a wave not of water, but of flesh and blood beasts.
A wild boar charged with terrifying momentum, its tusk piercing a soldier’s chest.
A knight, who had always seemed invincible, was brought down after fighting just five wolves, his leg bitten through before his throat was torn out, killing him instantly.
A mage, who had been launching fireballs with his incantations, was stung by a bee and collapsed, foaming at the mouth. A fellow mage who tried to help him suddenly began to cough violently, then vomited blood.
Nicole couldn’t see why. Before he knew it, the comrades in front of him had been pushed back, and the line had fallen all the way to his position.
“Archers!”
The beasts that were about to charge with terrifying force were struck by a rain of arrows and fell.
But new beasts immediately rushed in to take their place.
Having had a hunter for a father, Nicole knew. Animals were naturally more timid than people imagined; they didn’t make such reckless charges. In fact, for such a diverse array of beasts to gather in one place and attack a human settlement was, in itself, something that should have been impossible.
And soon, Nicole understood why.
In the midst of his desperate fight for survival, something in human form had attacked him.
“Ah…”
Seeing the form of his former comrade, with flowers growing where his eyes should have been and plant stems spreading across his skin like veins, Nicole understood everything.
The beasts weren't mad.
For something to be mad, it had to think and move of its own will, and the dead couldn't possibly think.
The beasts, the insects, and even the soldier now swinging a sword at Nicole.
They were all just moving according to the will of the plants that had taken them as hosts.
What was worse was the endless stream of words pouring from the mouths of the dead.
“Help me! Help me! My body is moving on its own! Don’t kill me!”
“Hey, what are you doing! Are you really going to swing that sword at me?”
“Hello! Hey guys, come over here! It’s safer this way!”
Nicole and the other Imperial soldiers were elites. But they were not elite enough to maintain their composure in this horrific situation, where ‘somethings’ parasitizing their comrades’ bodies were trying to converse with them in a friendly manner.
The ancient evil that had ravaged humanity a thousand years ago with its unique parasitic ability, like a plague, was still very much alive.
Once the border was breached, it would be the end.
The soldiers guarding the border would become new hosts and attack the citizens, and the citizens who died would become yet more hosts, spreading the damage ever wider.
“Heaven’s games have grown rather crude. To think that with all their great power, they’d resort to forcing such a pointless fight.”
Therefore, it was in a way inevitable that a single witch, who could not permit such a thing, would arrive here.
Whoosh.
The mages, engaged in a fierce battle on the front lines, felt a cool breeze brush past their cheeks.
It was a wind that cooled their bodies, heated by the fatigue and fervor of battle.
But the moment that wind touched the enemy, the gentle breeze instantly transformed into blades like a guillotine.
Slice!
Boars, wolves, insects, and humans.
Not a single one, not a single thing, was spared as they were sliced apart by the blades of wind.
The soldiers, who had been watching the terrifying enemies get diced into countless pieces, stood dumbfounded. Then, they noticed the girl who had appeared on the battlefield and their mouths fell open.
Algind Goodwitch.
The witch, known to the world as the apprentice of the Witch of the South, was there.
Algind spoke to the mages who had come with her.
“I will find the root and cut it out. Please support the soldiers here.”
“Yes. We will ensure that not a single one gets past.”
Wizards.
As these masters of breaking, cutting, and burning—unparalleled in their craft—leapt into the battlefield, the seemingly endless tide of parasites began to be pushed back.
But Algind knew.
Even if they could gain a temporary advantage in firepower, the parasites, with their plague-like nature, would simply find new forces somewhere and resume their assault unless their root was torn out.
She was lifted into the arms of her masked familiar and soared high into the sky.
And so, she reached a certain forest, the source of this entire phenomenon.
There, a woman with green skin, wearing bark and leaves like clothing, stood.
Upon spotting Algind, the woman seemed to feel threatened and hid herself deep within the earth.
At the same time, every living creature in the woman’s forest turned its hostility toward Algind.
『Master, that one, is strong. Better to call Ifrit and Marid.』
The green-masked familiar asked.
『I hate to agree with this guy, but didn't we struggle last time fighting in this state? Why not just bring them all out?』
The familiar asked again, its mask shifting from green to blue.
Algind…
No, Goodwitch, calmly shook her head.
“As long as we don’t know what those bastards in the heavens are specifically planning, it’s best to keep some insurance. Besides—”
A cold light glinted in Algind’s doll-like eyes.
“—this isn’t even the main body, just a remnant. This will be more than enough.”
A forest near the eastern border of the Empire.
Dryad Lilium VS Algind Goodwitch & the masked familiar (Bard/Gawain).
*
A long, long time ago.
During the Great War, when countless kingdoms existed, there was a certain general who made people tremble with distrust.
This general’s specialty was mimicking others.
Their appearance, personality, manner of speech, and even a portion of their memories and abilities.
The mimicry was so precise that even targeted curses or divine blessings couldn’t fully distinguish the original, splitting the effect between the two.
Furthermore, the location where the eight brave generals were summoned was none other than the vicinity of the royal capital.
What did this mean, you ask?
In short, it meant the kingdom’s court had to watch their king, times two, duel each other, brandishing giant lances.
“You fiend! How dare you mimic my form! Your scheme is truly wicked and vile! However, I must praise your martial skill as truly first-rate!”
“You’re the one talking! The way you prattle on as if you’re the real one is utterly disgusting! However, I thank you for this once-in-a-lifetime experience of dueling myself!”
The courtiers thought.
Aren’t they getting along?
Every time the lances clashed, red and blue sparks flew from the scraping steel.
The movements of the two Alonsos were so similar that the battle was a stalemate, as if each was fighting his own reflection in a mirror.
Those watching thought the fight might never end, but this was a misconception.
“Ugh!?”
The face of one of the Alonsos suddenly contorted in pain, while the other’s became expressionless.
The lance, which until now had followed the exact same methods and trajectories as Alonso’s, had suddenly unleashed a surprise attack with entirely different techniques.
Caught off guard, Alonso failed to react in time, and a large wound opened on his shoulder.
After that, the skill displayed by the other Alonso was like that of a different person.
His lance was heavy, yet light; swift, yet ponderous; direct, yet fluid.
Though he didn't change his physical specs to be superior to Alonso's, likely to conserve energy, it wasn't difficult to gain an overwhelming advantage by simply using all of Alonso's techniques with slight variations.
Before long, Alonso was sent tumbling backward, covered in wounds.
“Your Majesty!”
The knights, finally realizing which one was real, tried to protect Alonso, but it was a futile effort.
The other Alonso…
No, the Doppelgänger’s lance sent the knights flying, spraying blood.
It was then.
“Pardon the intrusion. I heard that a revered goddess was here, and I have come seeking her. Does anyone know of her whereabouts? She is known to the public as the apprentice of the Witch of the East.”
Inside the palace where Alonso had been fighting.
A girl dressed in clothes adorned with black feathers appeared, though from where or how she had entered, no one knew.
A deep silence fell.
The Doppelgänger in Alonso’s form tilted its head, its face expressionless. The other courtiers’ minds froze at the girl’s sudden appearance and the content of her question.
But there is always a hero in the world.
The only man among them who had an inkling about the keyword ‘goddess.’
Marquis William Hemming, the kingdom’s great courtier and the king’s right hand, shouted, acting almost on instinct.
“I know where they are! Are you perhaps an acquaintance of hers!?”
“How could I be an acquaintance of the goddess? I am merely a servant who has trained under her grace, and I have come only to see if I might repay that kindness, even if only by serving as her footstool.”
William had a gut feeling.
This black-feathered girl before him was also one of the mad ones.
At the same time, he thought:
Ah! Someone connected to that witch, and clearly not in their right mind—she has all the makings of an extraordinary eccentric!
If Dorothea had heard him, she would have demanded to know what he thought of her, but objectively speaking, it wasn’t an incorrect assessment.
“If you’re looking for them, I will help you! So please, defeat that man over there!”
At William’s shout, pointing a finger at the Doppelgänger, the black-feathered girl’s head slowly turned.
“Hmm.”
The girl seemed to be considering it.
William flinched. Even he had to admit it was an unreasonable demand.
To ask a girl whose abilities he didn't even know to defeat the monster that had just taken down King Alonso was a desperate, nonsensical plea born from the urgency of the situation.
As if reading the situation, the Doppelgänger smirked.
He had no intention of defying the mask’s orders, but for that very reason, he had a fair amount of free will remaining.
As a mischievous prank, he changed his form.
The form of a witch with a form-fitting black dress, ebony hair, blue eyes, and skin as pale as jade.
The Doppelgänger had only seen Dorothea for a brief moment when it was a bracelet, so it couldn't copy her abilities, but mimicking her appearance and tone was a simple matter.
“There’s no need to listen to them. You were looking for me? I’ll hear you out, but before that, why don’t you clean up this trash here?”
It was a game.
It was unlikely the black-feathered girl would fall for the Doppelgänger’s words, but even if she just showed a moment of hesitation, it would be an amusing sight.
Of course, it wouldn’t matter if she got angry and attacked him instead.
The amount of mana the girl possessed was mediocre at best, and her martial skill was second-rate. In the Doppelgänger’s eyes, she was utterly unremarkable.
However, there was something he failed to realize.
That for a girl who had grown strong without following a proper process, using a ‘relic’ left by Dorothea as her teacher, her model, and her weapon, a ‘conventional assessment’ was meaningless.
“—To dare impersonate and insult my goddess… I’ll kill you.”
There are some people in the world you should never touch.
And there are some triggers you should never pull.
The moment the black-feathered girl drew a shabby sword from her waist—a blade that looked more suited for butchering a chicken—her entire presence changed.
An immense wave of curses and killing intent erupted from her body, causing William and the other courtiers to collapse, their legs trembling. Even the Doppelgänger narrowed its eyes.
Long ago, Franka, hoping to curry favor with the black-feathered girl, had sent a letter to Dorothea asking her to name the girl. Annoyed, Dorothea had nonetheless granted the request.
The source Dorothea used to choose the name was a collection of folk tales.
To be precise, it was the subtitle of one of the short stories within that book.
[Brave Bill]
And, just in case the recipient was female, she had added a conditional name—
—Billina.
The Royal Capital of the Kingdom.
Doppelgänger Dicondra VS Billina.