Chapter 666: The Destination
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 666: The Destination
Nights in the Abyss were exceptionally cold, as if even the sand were coated in a layer of frost.
Standing atop a dune and looking out, the yellow dust and wind that had seemed ready to drown the entire world had finally subsided. All things fell into a deep slumber, silhouetted against a silence that made the heart tremble.
Yet, even on such a rare, peaceful night, one could not see the brilliant stars or the bright, clear moon that humans spoke of when looking up.
"A clear sky..."
Airangot gazed at the Abyssal night sky, which looked as though it had been soaked in ink. "Can there really be a sky clearer than this?"
He could not imagine this ink-black night, or the sky usually shrouded in yellow sand, being dotted with countless points of light. He certainly couldn't imagine how a "round jade plate," as the humans described it, could hang in the heavens.
Perhaps they were deceiving him? Humans were always so despicable.
But no matter how he tortured his captives, or how he tore their flesh away piece by piece, the answers he received were almost always identical.
To think that such despicable, weak creatures as humans could maintain a lie to such an extent would be giving them far too much credit.
"No matter."
Airangot’s gaze dropped from the infinitely distant sky to this barren, desolate land that no one would ever miss.
"We will be leaving this place forever soon. Very soon."
Suddenly, the flickering light of torches flared up, connecting into a long serpent of fire that drew irregular lines across the withered earth.
The firelight illuminated Airangot’s face. From outward appearances alone, it was a face indistinguishable from an ordinary human's—his features were even somewhat delicate. Only his blood-red eyes betrayed a hint of high-born cruelty and indifference.
"Lord Demon General."
At the end of the line of fire, a Demon knelt on one knee and reported respectfully, "The search is complete."
"And?" Airangot asked indifferently.
"According to our search, all one hundred and thirty-two Low-Class Demons in the camp are dead. Their deaths were extremely gruesome, as if they had been dismembered. Even Lord Solin..."
"I asked you about the cargo. Who cares about that fool Solin?" Airangot said impatiently.
Even among High-Class Demons, there were vast differences in status. Why should he bother himself with a lowly creature like Solin, who needed armor to hide his own defects?
What mattered now was the shipment he was supposed to have received.
A hundred Thorins weren't worth as much as those goods.
"Yes..."
The Demon suppressed his trembling and swallowed hard. "Regarding the cargo... it is difficult for me to describe in detail. I ask that my Lord... please come and see for yourself."
"Hmm?"
A slight sound of confusion escaped Airangot’s nose. However, the Demon had already pressed his entire body flat against the sand, not daring to say another word.
"Useless trash."
Airangot barked a low reprimand. Stepping on the Low-Class Demon’s back, he dismounted from the saddle of his massive, lizard-like magical beast.
The torches lined the path as Airangot strode into the camp, where the blood had not yet dried.
There wasn't the mess he expected, nor were there signs of a large-scale assault. Aside from the camp gates, which had clearly been blown apart, everything was so intact it looked as if everyone was still resting peacefully in their tents.
But when he looked down, he saw the ground littered with the corpses of Low-Class Demons.
The coldness in Airangot’s eyes intensified. Sensing something, he walked straight toward the central tent.
A nearby Demon respectfully pulled back the flap and raised a torch, allowing Airangot—who already possessed night vision—to see the contents of the tent even more clearly.
It was a massive, irregular... ball? It looked as if someone had used their bare fists to hammer metal components together by brute force.
The ball was huge, nearly filling the entire tent. Airangot pressed a palm against it, forcing it to rotate.
The side hidden in the back turned to the front, revealing a crudely drawn... smiley face.
It consisted of only three simple arcs, but the third and longest arc—the mouth—had been deliberately flicked upward at the corners, vividly capturing a mocking sneer.
It was as if it were laughing at their late arrival.
Airangot felt as though he could actually imagine the person’s irritating smile as they drew this face.
"My Lord, these magic materials..." a Demon attendant asked tentatively. If they had only been forced together by brute strength, perhaps these magic materials could still be...
"Their magical properties are gone. I don't know how it was done, but they have completely turned into pure scrap iron."
Expressionless, Airangot reached out and tore a piece off.
But the moment he squeezed it in his palm, the material that still looked like metal instantly disintegrated into fine iron sand.
He had spoken too soon; it wasn't even as good as scrap iron.
Though, it made little difference.
"Such precious magic materials turned into scrap?"
The Demon attendant’s face paled, his voice trembling as he whispered, "If the superiors hand down a punishment, my Lord should..."
"..."
Airangot glanced at him.
The Demon servant immediately covered his mouth, realizing he had misspoken.
But it was too late.
Thump.
Like a ripe watermelon being cracked open, the Demon servant’s head exploded, spraying red and white matter everywhere.
The headless corpse convulsed a few times before collapsing. It was quickly dragged away by other Demons who were already accustomed to such sights.
Though these Low-Class Demons are hideous on the outside, the stuff inside their heads isn't much different from those cunning humans.
Why must they be so stupid?
"The enemy's trail? Have you found it?"
"Y-Yes."
Another Demon said tremulously, "They headed east."
"They didn't hide their tracks at all? It’s as if they want me to give chase."
Airangot stroked his chin, his gaze sweeping over the twisted sphere.
A clean slaughter, a bizarre method of draining the properties of magic materials, and an attitude that showed absolutely no fear of being followed...
"And the direction they're heading..."
Heh.
Airangot suddenly chuckled.
"It seems the Empire has sent someone quite extraordinary this time."
Perhaps it was related to the intelligence that had just come down from above.
"Then... my Lord?" the Demon suddenly asked. "Shall we pursue?"
"..."
Thump.
Another watermelon exploded.
Airangot took out a handkerchief and wiped his hand with disgust.
See? These fellows are just that stupid.
*
After crossing the barren, desolate sands, the surrounding scenery became noticeably more vibrant.
While it wasn't exactly lush greenery, in this starless, moonless night, one could occasionally see a few normal small animals out foraging.
Of course, it was more likely that the abnormal creatures of this place instinctively feared the powerful presence passing through.
"We're approaching the edge of the Abyss."
"Is that so?"
Muen, swaying with the rhythm of his horse, replied sleepily.
He wasn't the type to feel overly exhausted after a few days without sleep, but having just "eaten his fill," a natural drowsiness had set in.
"Haah..."
Muen yawned. "This road is longer than I imagined."
"You were the one who insisted I leap directly from the edge of the Abyss. I told you, there are violent spatial turbulences above the Abyss; even a Crown Bearer finds it difficult to pinpoint a location," the Indra King said, his hands clasped together.
"Fair enough. But it was a shortcut, wasn't it?"
Muen patted his cheeks, trying to force himself awake.
Just then, the rapid thumping of hooves rang out. Vik came galloping toward them on his steed.
"Reporting!"
He dismounted with somewhat clumsy movements and gave Muen a military salute. "The area ahead has been scouted. All clear."
"Very good."
Muen nodded. "Keep up the hard work, Soldier Vik."
"Yes, sir!"
Vik remounted and galloped off again, quickly vanishing from sight.
"Um... Young Master Campbell."
Watching this, Abel finally couldn't help but speak up. "You really don't need to indulge that kid so much. We know you don't actually need anyone to help with scouting..."
As he spoke, Abel stole a glance at the Indra King.
Although this elder hadn't lifted a finger the entire time, Abel knew that anyone treated with such respect by the son of a Duke could not possibly be an ordinary old man.
He was likely a powerhouse sent specifically to protect him.
"It’s fine."
Muen waved a hand with a smile. "Isn't that a soldier's duty? I can't stop a soldier from doing his job."
"Young Master Campbell..."
"Alright, enough small talk."
Muen cut Abel off, his tone shifting. "Tell me the details of what happened a few days ago."
"A few days ago?"
"When the Imperial army was routed... and several Demon Grand Dukes cornered and attacked my father." Muen spoke without expression, as if he were discussing a trivial matter.
"That time...?"
A trace of fear appeared on Abel’s face.
"Actually, we couldn't see it very clearly. My squad was in the vanguard camp, so we should have been the closest to the enemy. But all I saw were streaks of light flashing by, and the entire formation was scattered instantly. Many people were crushed into meat paste on the spot."
"I see," Muen mused. That must have been the scene when the Demon Grand Dukes forcibly tore through the army's formation.
"Then... then I saw those streaks of light fly into the sky and start fighting the Duke. I remember there were... three streaks of light?" Abel said, sounding a bit uncertain.
"Wasn't it four?" Polly asked, surprised.
"Five! I saw it clearly!" Morse added.
"Nonsense! How could just five Demon scum hurt Lord Lion King?"
Even Guri, who had been silent the whole way, barked a rebuttal. "There were thirteen! That's right, definitely thirteen! They say they were all Demon Grand Dukes. With a wave of their hands, our men died in droves! And that was with Lord Lion King protecting us!"
"..."
Looking at the group as they bickered and threw out different numbers, Muen couldn't help but smile bitterly.
Expecting these ordinary soldiers to describe the details of that battlefield was, in the end, asking too much.
A battle at the level of Crown Bearers was something they couldn't even track with their eyes.
Nevertheless, compared to the dry text and cold numbers in the intelligence reports, these accounts from those who were there helped flesh out the cruel reality of this centuries-long war between the Empire and the Demon Race.
The horses came to a halt.
The group stood atop a hill.
At that moment, though no sun rose, a blurry light—like light filtering through a window screen—gradually began to dispel the darkness.
Looking into the distance, a majestic wall perched upon a steep cliff finally revealed itself to them.
"We're here," Muen whispered.
The destination of his journey.
The legendary Natural Barrier.
The Empire's Defense Line: Dolonslei Fortress.