Exile (2)
Exile (2)
—How long are we to live like this? Mountain Clans? The oldest warriors? What meaning is there in that! All we do is play at banditry, and the moment knights ride up from below on warhorses, we're too busy fleeing!
Ivar, born as the second son of an influential family of the Mountain Clans, was deeply dissatisfied with his people's ways.
Too much time had passed since they had been driven from their homeland by the invaders who crossed the sea and forced into the mountains.
—Spare my life, I beg of you! I merely lost my way!
—Lost your way, you say? If you lost your way before the Mountain Clans, you might as well have lost your life. Wahahaha!
They were lives of putting on a tough front before passing travelers, not daring to cross the true rulers, the lords of Britannia.
The world was being steadily pioneered, and technology advancing. If things continued this way, they would one day be exterminated as beings somewhere between monsters and savages.
—So what are you saying we do?
—Those below the mountains are beyond counting compared to us, and they possess iron swords, iron armor, warhorses, and even castles.
His fellow tribesmen found the current situation equally bleak, but there was practically no way out.
They could not imagine bowing their heads to Britannia's nobles, and to fight meant too great a disparity in strength.
—So I'm saying we must not choose our means and methods!
Ivar, who had been combing through all manner of ancient texts to overturn the overwhelming disparity in strength, stumbled purely by chance upon a Heretical Scripture. He resolved to borrow the power of the evil god.
—You, are you mad? You want to join hands with the devil?
—If you're to win a fight you're bound to lose, you must grasp every hand you can reach!
But the Mountain Clans treated Ivar like a madman. Worse, when his father heard of it, he flew into a rage and beat him with a club dozens of times.
Young blood and indignation boiled over, and Ivar ran away from home, taking the Heretical Scripture with him.
—Rather than persuade fools, I'll achieve the great work on my own.
The problem was that not long after he left the territory of the Mountain Clans, he was captured by an orc tribe.
—What is that book? I sense a dangerous and intense aura from it.
—...!
And among the orcs, he met the shaman Raxar, who was just as much an oddity as Ivar himself, forming a strange alliance.
For a year they devoted themselves together to the heresy, learning its wicked power. With his remarkable talent, Raxar, backed by the authority of the evil god, subjugated the nearby orc bands.
After many dissenters left due to Raxar's tyranny of sacrificing even his own kind, they began using humans as sacrifices.
—Sooner or later the tribal scum will come down to the abandoned monastery. They won't miss the chance during the civil war.
Thanks to Ivar's intimate knowledge of the Mountain Clans' ways, they were able to capture large numbers of humans.
But the plan that had been going smoothly fell apart when Eugene's army suddenly surrounded the monastery.
"This is exactly why we shouldn't have sent the orcs out! We should have stayed hidden to the very end!"
"Hiding is pointless. The invaders know we are here."
With his calm tone and tall, imposing stature, Raxar appeared far more authoritative than Ivar.
"This place has been abandoned for a long time, and we carefully cleared the upper levels! We didn't leave a single bone shard, so if we'd held our breath, they'd have taken it for a derelict monastery and moved on!"
"The warriors surrounding the monastery number in the thousands. One who commands such numbers is wise. To move that many, one needs much meat. They came here with certainty."
Ivar, who could not hear the god's voice, was gripped with fear. But Raxar was confident in the victory the god whispered.
* * *
Orcs under a berserker spell were troublesome foes.
Immune to pain and fear, they even possessed a toughness that endured most grievous wounds. Since they were still living creatures, unlike the undead, their movements were swift and their strength formidable.
But before heavily armed elite knights, they were mere lumps of meat.
"Casualties?"
"None, Your Excellency. If we suffered casualties against foes of this level, it would be a disgrace to knighthood."
From all directions came the sounds of finishing off orcs who were incapacitated but not yet dead.
"This way."
Cassandra's lantern lit the path ahead and led the party.
It did more than simply drive away darkness. As a light source imbued with the power of the good goddess Vanas, it reacted to evil beings.
Some of the light playing over the stone statues flickered and wavered. Homi fired her crossbow at the statue in that direction.
"KREEE—!"
A dog-shaped gargoyle, its bolt embedded in its temple, fell from the dais and thrashed about.
Sizzle.
The silver reacted, sending up white steam, but the dog's forepaws could not grasp and pull it out. Eugene closed the distance in an instant and struck the neck of the writhing creature.
"No human corpses? Even some scattered bone shards would be fine."
"None at all."
"It was said that the Mountain Clans were staying here first."
The hunters testified that bandits seeking to profit from the civil war had been attacked by orcs. By now, they should have found gnawed bones or at least a pot of stew boiling with human flesh.
"Might they be saving them as sacrifices for a wicked ritual? Even slave traders strictly forbid their men from touching the merchandise."
"That's for humans, and these are monsters. Orcs aren't the sort to follow discipline well..."
Eugene, who had been shaking his head at a knight's words, stopped.
"It's possible."
With an ordinary orc band, they would give in to desire and lay hands on humans no matter what the chieftain said.
But these orcs were under the command of a powerful priest believed to be a wizard.
If they were like those he had fought before, whose desires other than the instinct to kill had been stripped away, they might faithfully follow orders.
"Oh."
A young knight's eyes lit up at a gold necklace lying on a sack of oats. For him, skilled but poor, even such a thing was a great prize.
After carefully gauging the others' attention, the knight realized he was the first to spot it and hurried over to reach for it.
"Stop!"
At Cassandra's words, the knight reflexively raised his shield and assumed a combat stance. But it was not a warning of an attack.
A twig she tossed landed right in front of the necklace. The same floor covered with oat sacks.
Clang!
Instantly, a hidden bear trap snapped its jaws shut and pulverized the twig. So artfully concealed it went utterly unnoticed, the jeweled necklace above diverting attention.
"Thank you!"
The young knight backed away, drenched in cold sweat.
"Private looting is prohibited. I promise that after the battle, a professional search party will locate everything and distribute it. For now, hold back."
"My apologies, Your Excellency."
"It's partly my fault for not giving prior warning, so your apology is accepted. Thank Cassandra instead."
Eugene clicked his tongue at the cunning so unlike orcs.
"It seems there is an orc trap-maker. It appears they are using the supplies the Mountain Clans who were here earlier left behind."
"A trap-maker? Do savage monsters have such a thing?"
Cassandra nodded at the old knight who had spoken in Eugene's stead.
"A trap-maker isn't anything grand. It's just that in an orc band, an individual with a sharp eye, good hands, and excellent spatial awareness will scavenge and use human tools. Most have a few joints missing from their index and middle fingers, so you can easily recognize them."
Cassandra extended her index and middle fingers and wiggled them gently. The fact that they straightened out at identical angles revealed the racial difference from humans.
The monastery had been built with underground levels. Constructed during Britannia's pioneering era for emergency evacuation, it was meant to safely accommodate large numbers. With a little exaggeration, one could call it an underground citadel.
"The lantern is doing truly great work. When we return, I must offer a gift of thanks to the goddess."
As if in response to Eugene's words, the light within the lantern flickered. The light prevented him from seeing clearly, but it was certain it was pleased.
* * *
They cut down more orcs they encountered and pushed relentlessly downward until they reached a vast underground worship hall.
There, an orc of a stature equal to Eugene's stood at the altar, staring at them. His clear, intelligent gaze bore none of the ferocity typical of monsters.
He held an oak staff in his hand and was clad in priestly robes he had procured somewhere. They were high-ranking vestments such as an abbot might wear.
'That one is the leader.'
Eugene sensed at once that this was the mad priest he had heard about from interrogating the orcs.
'When you see a wizard, you're supposed to take his head off at once.'
Homi aimed her crossbow, but ten orc bodyguards in iron armor and bearing large shields were standing before the priest.
Before them, a giant radiated an overwhelming presence.
The giant was a muscular figure standing at least three meters tall. Its skin was gray and hardened like stone. Its clenched fist was like a solid boulder.
"Good heavens! What is all this?"
The knights were appalled at the mound of hideously butchered human corpses. Given the circumstances, they were clearly the Mountain Clans who had been attacked.
"Castle Lord. It's a sacrificial ritual. It seems we're one step too late."
Just as Cassandra said, this place resembled the ritual site the heretical wizard had established in Bonyard.
At that moment, the orc priest's mouth opened. An indescribably horrible resonance blasted toward Eugene and his party.
"!!!"
"!!!"
The faces of the knights turned ashen in an instant. It felt as if the roar of thousands of beasts had been compressed into a single wave.
Homi, whose senses were the keenest, felt goosebumps erupt all over her body. Her tail, which had been held straight, bristled like a startled cat's.
"Do you see? This is the power granted by the true god!"
Ivar, who had been terrified until just a moment ago, felt his courage surge in the face of this divine might. Raxar could imbue his voice with a portion of the evil god's tone. Hearing it, even seasoned warriors had dropped their weapons and trembled like aspen leaves. Among the faint-hearted orcs, there had been several who even wet themselves.
"ROOOOAR!"
However, as Homi let out an identical roar, the wicked aura that had been constricting the knights' souls was utterly washed away.
"You wretch! So you were in league with them, not a prisoner at all!"
"How can one born a human collude with such vile monsters? As if resorting to banditry wasn't enough, you commit this unforgivable sin!"
The knights, still gripping their weapons, thundered their rebukes at Ivar.
"Impossible!"
Ivar's eyes bulged in disbelief. Among those mighty orc chieftains, not a single one had been able to withstand the evil god's cry.
"We shall vanquish the wicked foes threatening Britannia."
Eugene raised Last Autumn and pointed it at the giant and the priest.
"Let none of you lower your guard. Maintain your distance as if you were imagining the worst monster you know."
The knights were no less courageous. They were the only souls who could charge even a fire-breathing dragon.
Shing!
The knights all switched to their silver swords. Everyone realized that this was the moment of the decisive battle.
The Wendigo summoned through Kalash, the Sigil of Hunger, had taken a bestial form because its sacrifice had been a beast. But the giant, perhaps because countless humans had been sacrificed to create it, bore a human form. The sight evoked the uncanny valley, making the knights grimace even more.
"Aim for the face!"
The knights pulled hand axes and throwing spears from their belts and hurled them all at once. The knights of Britannia, like those of Gord, were somewhat lacking in horsemanship, so they honed their throwing skills to compensate.
When the giant irritably shielded its face with an arm, the weapons bounced off without leaving a scratch. Its abdomen, the weak point of all living creatures, was also protected by rock-hard abs like a fortress wall.
"The bastard's got no balls!"
"How underhanded, as befits a servant of an evil god!"
There had even been some vicious throws aimed at the groin, but as an artificial creature, the lower half of the giant had no protruding weak points.
"Scatter! Silver should work on it!"
As the giant came charging in with heavy, pounding steps, the knights dispersed and leveled their silver weapons at it. Even if they had to suffer a sacrifice or two, their will was to bring it down by striking from the flanks and the rear. When facing monsters of medium size or larger, the basic tactic was always this: to give flesh and take bone. The knights were better prepared for such deaths than anyone else.
Thud!
At that moment, a silver-plated bolt embedded itself deep into the giant's abdomen. The chitinous shell, forged of impurity, emitted white steam as it was pierced as easily as tofu.
"Death to those bewitched by evil."
Homi's clear, ringing voice cut across the underground chapel. Perhaps as a consequence of her once-a-day allowance of speech, her tone was achingly beautiful.
"Eek!"
Under Homi's cool gaze, Ivar recoiled in terror and prostrated himself. On the other hand, at the sight of the monster bleeding, the knights let out a war cry.
At their head, Eugene rushed forward.
"I shall handle the main foe. You sirs, keep aiming constantly at its flanks and rear. Never face it head-on."
The knights, who ordinarily would have vied for glory and charged recklessly, observed proper discipline. The one leading them now was the Administrator of the South. There were no fools here who would let their pride run away with them and disregard his command.
As the knights with their silver swords encircled the giant on all sides and harried it, the giant could not focus its full attention on Eugene before it.
Thud!
Smack!
All the while, Homi was sinking her hoarded silver bolts into various parts of the giant's body.
Finally enraged, the giant charged blindly and swung a fist at Homi. Its sheer size and long arms gave it a terrifying reach.
"Hup!"
However, Homi rolled aside and evaded it. It was too great a leap—nearly three to four meters—to be called an ordinary roll, and the giant's attack hit nothing but air. Thanks to her innate sense of balance and the assistance of her tail pushing off the ground, Homi was able to resume shooting the instant her roll ended.
Thunk!
The bolt lodged in its flank, the giant let out a howl filled with irritation. Its cry was steeped in the scent of hell. It was not quite equal to that of the orc priest, but it was still enough to shake the souls of seasoned knights—though not this time.
The knights felt Homi's breath flowing through their veins. It coated their bodies, preventing the wicked aura from encroaching upon them.
Crash!
A stone pillar smashed to pieces under the giant's fist. But Homi rolled backward once more, planting another bolt into the giant's chest.
The giant immediately ripped the bolt out, seized a nearby pew, and hurled it at Homi.
"Hup!"
A bench meant to seat over ten people came spinning through the air, filling Homi's vision completely. Even she could barely avoid it, tumbling to the ground in the process.
But the giant could not finish her off, because Eugene, having rushed in close, slashed its calf.
'Should I take down the orc priest first?'
Even as he dodged the giant's kicks, Eugene could not fully concentrate on the fight. His attention kept being drawn to the root of this calamity standing by the altar.
That was when an unforeseen event occurred.
While everyone's eyes were fixed on the bloody struggle with the giant, a figure had been stealthily circling around in the darkness. It was Cassandra.
"Watch out! That fiend is trying to cast evil magic again!"
As Eugene had warned, the priest was chanting a spell in an unknown tongue while holding his staff.
[■■■...]
And Cassandra, having crept close enough, put the blowgun to her lips.
Fwish!
Launched from the darkness, the poisoned dart flew in secrecy and pierced the priest's vocal cords.
"Ghk..."
"Raxar!"
The priest collapsed, clutching his throat and vomiting blood. The orc guards were thrown into confusion by the stealthy ambush; even the giant, losing its composure at its summoner's peril, turned to look back.
"You bastard!"
Not missing the opening, a knight stabbed the back of the giant's knee with his spear.
"Well done!"
Eugene's lips curled upward at the sight of the spearhead piercing through the giant's knee. No matter how thick its hide, the joints were always vulnerable, and the knight had struck there with precision.
The giant howled in pain and swung its arm, but the knight had already abandoned the spear and retreated.
Warily eyeing the knights surrounding it, the giant twisted this way and that, but its swiftness was greatly reduced as it hobbled on one leg. In the end, even its good knee was pierced by Homi's bolt, and it collapsed to a sitting position.
Crack!
The stone floor exploded upward as the giant's fist thrashed in desperation. The sheer force of it made the knights dare not approach any closer.
However, seizing an opening, Eugene's blade struck, nearly severing its forearm and leaving it dangling.
"Gaaah—!"
Sensing the threat of death, the giant swung its other fist, but Eugene stepped back and swung his sword once more.
Slash!
The rock-like fist that could kill a bull with one blow was helpless before the Etherje blade. Split lengthwise from the middle finger to the wrist, it sprayed blood like a fountain.
With both knees and both arms ruined, the giant was exhausted and gasped for breath. As Eugene's silver blade flashed, its cleanly severed head tumbled to the ground.
"S-spare me! Please, just my life..."
Left all alone, Ivar pitched sideways as a throwing knife from Cassandra lodged itself in his forehead.
As long as he remained connected to an evil god, there was no telling what he might try. Interrogation be damned; killing him quickly was safer.
"Annihilate the remnants."
At Eugene's command, the knights surged forward, and the remaining orcs were swept away with shrieks of terror.
[How sorrowful.]
From the fallen bodies of the orc priest and the giant, Eugene heard a sobbing voice. It possessed a majesty that humans could not approach, yet it was a voice bound by the even stronger laws of the world. It was the lamentation of an evil god. It mourned the loss of a follower found after so long a time, grieving its banishment from the mortal world once more. Even that faded completely the moment the remaining orcs died.
"Castle Lord. This..."
Eugene accepted the oak staff Cassandra handed him. It was the one the priest had been using. Having been employed in barbaric rituals for ages untold, it was steeped in a dense spiritual energy.
"Glory be to the Goddess."
"Glory to Vanas."
As Eugene spoke, receiving the staff, Cassandra also smiled and placed her fist over her chest.
The light source within the lantern quivered as it beheld the evil god's relic in Eugene's hand. It seemed to be greatly salivating over it.
Vanas could now exert a faint measure of power even beyond the Wandering Castle as she received more offerings. Eugene wondered how much further she would grow.
End
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