Chapter 355: The Tin Knight and the Land of Emeralds (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 355: The Tin Knight and the Land of Emeralds (5)
A mage's workshop, by its very nature, reveals the personality of its creator.
Just as the Witch of the West had created a miniature garden where the creatures of her own making lived and breathed.
Just as the Witch of the South had made the imperial capital itself her grand workshop.
The party had never seen the Witch of the North’s workshop firsthand, but according to her apprentice, it was a grander, more magnificent version of the game book world—another testament to its master’s character.
What, then, of the Witch of the East?
What kind of workshop would a necromancer who had protected this land for over a thousand years have?
The answer could be described in a single word.
A ‘graveyard.’
“It’s quite bleak.”
At the scarecrow’s words, the members of the party nodded in agreement.
There wasn’t much to be found in the Witch of the East’s workshop.
A wide, flat land. Dotted throughout it were tombstones bearing inscriptions.
Yes. It was a massive graveyard.
Adelaide, looking around, examined the words carved into one of the tombstones.
-Patrick, the frail lord. He evacuated his people and held his ground against the giants. His body was weak, but his will was strong.
-Roanna, the court maid. She thwarted an assassination attempt on the queen, sacrificing her own life. Everyone loved her apple pie.
-Tuerian, the Whistling Knight. He fell protecting the life of a young knight who would later become a hero. The spark he saved would one day become the people's hope.
-Solon, the blind priest. He refused the call of the Kingdom of Heaven and remained with the people on the surface. Even those who doubted and condemned him eventually acknowledged him.
…………
………
……
…
There were countless tombstones, and each bore a simple epitaph.
These inscriptions could hardly be described as eloquent or ornate, not even with the most generous of words.
The sentence structures weren’t very polished, and the handwriting itself was somehow clumsy.
The letters looked as if they had been painstakingly carved, one by one, by someone with clumsy hands who had never sculpted a thing in their life.
There was no need to wonder whose handiwork it was.
“…And here she was, the one who always said to just make others do what you can't.”
A grumble escaped Dorothea’s lips.
She knew her master’s abilities well.
If she had been so inclined, the Witch of the East could have summoned the souls of skilled stonemasons to do her bidding, or even used her knowledge of poisons to corrode the stone into the shapes she desired.
To think that such a person had painstakingly carved each epitaph with her own hands stirred a complex emotion within Dorothea, one that was difficult to describe.
“Are these people the Witch of the East knew?”
At Adelaide’s cautious question, Dorothea’s eyes narrowed.
“…I imagine so.”
The number of graves was staggering.
Hundreds, no, perhaps even thousands.
As a necromancer, Dorothea could discern the contents of the graves without having to dig them up.
Few of the graves contained whole remains. If these were truly figures from the great war of the past, it was only natural that their bodies would have long since returned to the earth, leaving not even a trace of their original forms.
But Dorothea could sense it, however vaguely.
It wasn't just the passage of time. Many of the bodies buried here had been incomplete from the very moment of their burial.
That was the kind of war it had been.
An era where one was lucky if even a lock of hair or a handful of ashes could be returned to the bereaved.
An era where, sometimes, there were no bereaved left to receive the body.
A certain witch had collected these remains, one by one, and buried them in her workshop.
The feelings she must have harbored for her enemies would have been beyond words.
“……”
Step. Step.
As the party walked between the graves, two tombs, set apart from the others, came into view.
Unlike the other graves, these two tombstones bore no inscriptions.
They didn't look as if they had been left unfinished.
Rather, it felt as though there had been so much to say that nothing could be carved at all.
Dorothea and the Tin Knight gazed at the two nameless tombstones for a moment before pressing forward.
Their target, the dragon’s corpse, lay in a place far removed from the other graves.
While the other graves were respectfully interred, the dragon’s carcass gave a much stronger impression of simply being ‘preserved.’
A skull with a clean, sharp cut. A spine and part of a wing.
It could hardly be called a complete corpse, but that wasn't a major issue.
Other catalysts, enough to make up for the missing parts, were neatly stacked nearby.
Seeing the materials, which seemed to have been placed there relatively recently, Dorothea turned her gaze to Algind.
“Is this your work?”
“Yes. Preparing a means to ascend to the heavens from within the Empire carries a high risk of information leaks. In contrast, there's no such worry here.”
Goodwitch answered honestly, without a hint of concealment.
“I had originally intended to borrow the skills of the Witch of the East herself, but now that she has been struck down, the only one who can make full use of that corpse is you, Dorothea Aschengard. —Will you do it?”
“I have to.”
Dorothea’s tone was nonchalant, yet firm.
“The scales must be balanced. You give back what you receive. That applies to both goodwill and malice.”
The schemes of the heavens had brought them to the brink of death, and her master had been murdered.
She was not some fairy-tale princess who spoke of reconciliation and forgiveness.
She was a black witch who repaid malice with even greater malice.
Crack!
Dorothea’s staff struck the ground.
Black mana spread out like roots, enveloping the dragon’s corpse and the other catalysts around it.
A beautiful, yet dignified body took form. Power filled its mighty forelegs and hind legs.
The dragon scales, which had once blazed with a golden light, were now dyed a pitch-black, yet they still held a deep luster. Its massive wings looked majestic enough to fly to the ends of the earth.
Of course, it was only half-complete.
The body was finished, but the soul that would fill it was missing.
Just as Dorothea was about to draw souls from outside the workshop, it happened.
Vwoooom—
The graveyard trembled.
From each of the countless graves, small, whitish will-o'-the-wisps rose and swarmed around Dorothea.
They were not complete souls.
They were the lingering traces left behind after a soul departs the mortal plane, nothing more than what could be called fragments of spirit.
Ordinarily, such fragments would be incapable of expressing their own will or taking any action.
But as if defying all common sense, they were speaking as one.
They cried out in mourning for their brother-in-arms from a past life, for the keeper of the graveyard who had remained in this world to see them off to the very end.
Let us join you, they pleaded. Take us with you.
Knowing what could happen if she used such unstable soul fragments in her necromancy, Dorothea’s eyes wavered with hesitation.
Upon Dorothea’s shoulder, the Tin Knight placed a hand in encouragement.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says that a good opportunity should be shared!]
A good opportunity.
Dorothea let out a wry laugh at the expression.
But when she thought about it, he wasn't wrong.
Those who had lived a thousand years ago surely harbored their own grudges and grievances against the heavens.
As Dorothea’s staff pointed forward, the souls swirling around her obeyed the command and settled into the dragon’s body.
The dragon’s closed eyes snapped open, and a furious roar echoed from its maw.
The Tin Knight, Dorothea, Adelaide, and Sophia each climbed onto its back.
The gate of the barrier, once sealed off from reality, opened, and the black dragon soared into the sky.
A wind began to blow.
The members of the Lennart bloodline and the kingdom’s elite, who had been waiting outside the barrier, rode the wind that gusted as if chasing the dragon’s tail.
Dorothea looked down at the ground.
She could see Algind Goodwitch, the apprentice and clone of the Witch of the South, looking up at her with a crumbling body.
Turning her gaze to the side, she saw hundreds of homunculi holding golden nets, countless knights riding upon those nets, a skeleton steering a massive golden ship, the mages aboard it, and the familiars escorting them all.
As if sensing the counterattack from the surface world, a series of massive barrages rained down from the heavens.
Thanks to the interception by the South and North Witches, the party was not hit, but emerald slabs, hidden behind the bombardment, descended and settled onto the ground.
Vwoooooong!
The emerald slabs radiated an intense power and began to produce countless soldiers, as if stamping them out of a mold.
The way they scattered light all around them was like an appeal to those ascending to the sky.
If you don't protect the surface, we will burn it all to ashes.
The threat seemed to have some effect, as some of the knights hanging from the nets and the mages aboard the ship showed signs of wavering.
Dorothea frowned.
It wasn't that they would suddenly turn back to the surface, but if they couldn't perform at their best with such worries plaguing their minds, that would be a problem in its own right.
Just then, the Tin Knight chattered something to the party.
Dorothea was dumbfounded, Adelaide was flustered, and Sophia’s eyes sparkled.
But they didn't hesitate for long.
The party's philosophy was that a 70-point answer delivered quickly was better than a 100-point answer that took too long.
The Tin Knight spoke his piece, and Sophia refined its content.
Dorothea prepared to magically amplify the voice.
And Adelaide shouted with all her might, as if declaring it to the many listeners.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ insists that once you start something, you have to see it through!]
“—You must not look back, everyone!”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ points out that this isn't the first or second time we've been backstabbed by those gossiping bastards!]
“For ages, we have been manipulated by the schemes of the heavens! Beneath them, according to their will, we have danced to their tune and drawn our swords against each other time and time again!”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ passionately argues that if we fall for their tricks again, they'll 100% laugh at us, and he'd rather die than see that happen!]
“They will sweep across the land, destroy everything we have built, and distort the history we have forged! They will claim the heavens are allies of the surface, that they were nothing but benevolent helpers! They will hide their own sins and shift all the blame onto us!”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ shouts that we've taken enough, now it's time for payback, so let's land a blow together!]
“If we cannot stop them! If we do not bring down their kingdom and put an end to their ambitions! This will happen again and again and again!”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ advises that even if you go back, you'll just get asked 'why did you even come back?', you won't get a good reaction, so just look forward!]
“So please, do not hesitate! Just as your comrades on the ground believed in you and sent you to the sky, you too must believe in those who remain on the ground!”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says now is the time to smash some heads!]
“Today, at this very hour! Let us end their long reign of deception and domination with our own hands!!”
At this point, it was less a liberal translation and more a complete distortion, but the response was explosive nonetheless.
—Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!
Kingdom, Federation, Empire, Magic State.
Regardless of origin or faction, a great roar erupted from the voices of all.
An unseen fighting spirit and fervor gathered, erupting like a colossal wave of energy.
And at last, the heavens revealed themselves.
A giant island floating in the sky, nestled higher than the clouds.
As if to block the party’s approach, an emerald barrier, like an eggshell, surrounded the island.
Not only that, but holy power erupted from various points on the island, firing indiscriminately at the ground forces like beams of light.
The golden ship, thanks to Cap’n Bill’s nimble maneuvering and the layers of barriers plastered on by the magic towers, did not falter easily. But the homunculi, who were pulling the troops with nets, couldn't get close to the island and had to keep their distance.
The Tin Knight shouted.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says it's time for the opening barrage!]
“I know!!”
At Dorothea’s will, a massive amount of mana began to gather in the dragon’s mouth.
It was a black, somehow ominous power, with a visual that made it hard to tell if it was the attack of a hero or a demon king.
Of course, the party didn't care.
Their adventure was not a journey to distinguish between good and evil.
“Fire!!”
Fwoooooooosh!
The black flash of light collided with the barrier of holy power.
The necromantic energy and the emerald holy power negated one another, vanishing as if canceled out.
Through the large hole torn in the barrier, the dragon and the soldiers floating behind it pushed their way in.
Landing on the surface, the party looked around.
A scene straight out of a fairy tale unfolded before them, with buildings and ground all covered in emerald.
Priests in pure white robes and emerald soldiers glared at them, their eyes a mixture of shock and hostility.
And so, the curtain rose on a battle that would be etched in history.