Table of Contents
Table of Contents Page
Chapter 46: Now Do You Get It?
Chapter 49: But It’s More Comfortable Here
Newsletter
Copyrights and Credits
Chapter 44: The Ocean
Chapter 44:
The Ocean
CALE HENITUSE STRODE down the stone steps with his brother, Bassen, beside him.
As they walked, Bassen continued the report he’d been delivering. “The Whale Tribe spotted enemy ships at the first boundary of the northeastern sea.”
The first boundary along the northeastern region’s sea route lay at the border between Norland and the Dark Forest.
“They’re moving rapidly, and they should reach Rowoon in two or three days.”
While Bassen spoke, he scanned his brother’s face. He hasn’t even wiped the blood off! Bassen clenched his teeth. The battle had ended, but Cale had yet to rest and was still covered in blood. Even so, he maintained an upright, noble bearing.
Bassen hurried on with his report. “House Uvar and House Gilbert are currently requesting reinforcements.”
Cale let Bassen finish, then said, “Your Highness?”
“Yes?”
The communication sphere in Bassen’s arms was currently connected to Crown Prince Albert Crossman. With a stiff expression, Albert studied Cale, whose tired and dirt-smeared face reflected his experience at the center of the battle.
Cale paid the prince’s inspection no heed. Only one thought filled his head: I’m starving.
After fusing with the Energy of the Heart, that gluttonous shield of his craved even more food. He opted to wrap up his remaining business and find something to eat.
“Dispatch the first mage brigade and the first company of royal knights to the Uvar shores, if you would,” he told Albert.
“And…?”
“What do you plan to do with the Whale Tribe?”
“I’m still debating whether to have them fight alongside us or conceal their identity.”
Tap. Cale stopped walking.
“While I’m sure you have plenty of questions, Your Highness, I’ll contact you another time to discuss things in detail.”
“All right. Understood.”
The device switched off, and Cale turned to Bassen. “You should go help Father.”
Their father, Count Deruth Henituse, was speaking to the nobles of the northeastern region as well as the rest of the kingdom. If Bassen was to be the next count, it would be best for him to learn as much as he could from their father now.
Despite Cale’s suggestion, Bassen remained stubbornly rooted at his side. Cale shot him a curious look.
“Why must you take on the most painful and exhausting tasks, Brother?” Bassen asked, glowering at the stone staircase they’d just descended. This dungeon had been closed off for decades, but Bassen could make out a faint light inside.
Why? Why does he always try to carry so many burdens on his own?!
Bassen struggled to comprehend why his brother was dismissing him. He didn’t understand why Cale tried to shoulder everything alone.
Cale, on the other hand, didn’t get Bassen’s point of view. “The most painful and exhausting tasks,” he says? It was precisely because Cale didn’t want to deal with the other territories or the temples that he’d come here to fulfill an easier role.
Since he couldn’t relate to Bassen, Cale tossed out the first thing that came to mind: “It’s no hardship. Besides, this sort of work is better suited for someone like me. You should head back up.”
Bassen’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but he couldn’t manage a reply. What kind of person is suited for torture?!
Cale was on his way to interrogate and torture someone. Bassen knew without a doubt that this warmhearted brother of his, the man who’d worked so hard to save their county’s citizens, would never enjoy or adapt to such a duty.
Nevertheless, Bassen bitterly turned around. “I will do as you command.”
His brother had chosen to handle this gruesome task even though Bassen and their father were available. Cale had dragged himself to this place despite how worn-out and exhausted he was.
Bassen understood Cale’s intentions.
I’m still immature.
At seventeen, Bassen Henituse was still a young man. He realized that he had a long way to go before he could match up to the people surrounding his brother. If he wanted to avoid becoming baggage, he needed to grow.
Bassen headed up and out of the dungeon without a single backward glance.
Once he’d disappeared, Cale spoke again. “Apple pie.”
A stubby paw appeared in the air, along with a piece of apple pie. Cale accepted the pie, then frowned.
“Huh? Why’s this pie so moist?”
The apple pie was sopping wet, as if it had been dunked in water. As Cale furrowed his brow, he heard a small voice.
“…I didn’t cry.”
Raon’s statement made Cale sigh.
“I’ll get you a new one if you don’t like it. Don’t eat it if you don’t want to, human. Apple pie from a dragon who isn’t great and mighty can’t be that great either.”
Goodness. Cale huffed internally and took a bite of the pie. He couldn’t just throw away something a child gave him—and honestly, he was too famished.
I’m so hungry, I could eat dirt.
He meant it. After the Energy of the Heart and the Unbreakable Shield fused, the hunger had only gotten worse.
The two Ancient Powers still existed as separate entities, but there was now a connection between them. If the Unbreakable Shield was a person, the Energy of the Heart could be described as that person’s heart.
Cale munched on the apple pie as he opened the door to the underground prison.
Creeeak.
He stopped chewing as a whip cracked through the air in front of him.
Thwack!
“Aaahhh!”
Blood spattered the walls. So much of it already coated the stone that he couldn’t tell where the fresh splash had landed.
“Ah, young master. You’re here.” Ron greeted Cale with a genial tone, but his gaze was icy as he examined Cale from head to toe.
Why are the old man’s eyes so cold? Cale shrank back from that murderous stare—then grew even more flustered when Ron took out a dagger and threw it.
Phwack!
“Aaaugh!”
The dagger landed in the shoulder of the man being tortured, sending blood spraying once again. Cale avoided Ron’s gaze and looked at Vicross. The chef and torture expert wore four pairs of white gloves as he flicked the whip, his expression stoic.
This father-son duo, unmarred by a single drop of blood, introduced Cale to their captive.
“We’re having a chat with him,” Ron said, “as you instructed.”
As the hoarse gasps of the man choking for breath echoed through the air, Cale saw that dried blood had dyed his white hair a dark shade of red.
Guardian Knight Clope Seca had fallen into Cale’s hands.
After Choi Han defeated Clope on the battlefield, Vicross and Ron had immediately captured him and moved him to the dungeon.
“We kept him alive,” Ron added with an innocuous smile.
Just barely.
‹Good! Ron and Vicross really are smart!› Raon piped up in Cale’s mind.
Cale had no response.
Clope Seca was alive…technically. His legs were finely minced—indeed, they resembled shredded meat—and his arms were missing. It made for a horrifying sight, like a scene straight out of a nightmare. The Guardian Knight probably would have been better off dead.
Ron padded over to Cale. “Seeing as he doesn’t even know how to control the wyverns, I didn’t think we had much use for him. I left him just alive enough to chat with. Have I done well, young master?”
“Yes, good job,” Cale answered honestly. Despite the violence, he had to admit Ron had done excellent work. “He’s conscious, right?”
“He is,” Vicross said matter-of-factly.
Cale nodded and approached the prisoner.
“Haah, haah…”
Clope was having trouble breathing. Pain lanced through him with every inhale. A greater fear clawed at his mind as the agony began to ebb away: At this rate, he really was going to die. It no longer mattered to him why this backwater territory had a torture expert and an assassin; all he could think about was escaping this terrifying place.
“Sir Guardian Knight.”
Though the voice addressing Clope was gentle, he didn’t dare look up. This bastard—the owner of that mellow voice—was the true ruler of this territory: Cale Henituse, the man with the silver shield. Clope had never expected a young lord he’d considered righteous and benevolent to do such a thing. He couldn’t speak.
All feeling had drained from his body, but suddenly, a new sensation seized hold of him—one of primal terror and suppression. The Guardian Knight had been subjugated after being struck by Cale’s Dominating Aura. It felt as if something was pressing down on him. He hadn’t sensed this from anyone other than that person.
That soft voice reached his ears once more. “Raise your head.”
Clope lifted his trembling head with painstaking slowness, a muscle in his cheek twitching uncontrollably. When he looked up, a smiling Cale Henituse greeted him.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Was Cale referring to their earlier meeting at the castle wall? Consumed by fear, Clope found himself bobbing his head before he knew it. His nodding then stopped, his entire body going still as if frozen in time.
The red hair of the man in front of him was slowly fading to white. Next, his naturally reddish-brown eyes turned blue.
Clope’s lips flapped open and closed, unable to form words. “A-ahh…”
It was a familiar face; his memory of those features was crystal clear. Once Cale’s hair color changed, the face Clope remembered and Cale’s face in this moment overlapped perfectly.
The priest. He was the mysterious priest Clope had met in January.
Just then, the smile on the priest’s face vanished. Clope again lost the ability to breathe as the pressure subsumed him once more.
The white-haired priest spoke in a leisurely manner. “Has it been fun dancing in the palm of my hand?”
What Clope heard was: Did you enjoy thinking you were going to be a legend?
Scenes from the past month flashed through his mind. He met the magical priest at the beginning of the year, and then a pillar of fire had shot up in the Lake of God’s Tears. Because of what the priest told him, Clope had believed he would be the legend’s hero.
But that was all a lie?
Dreams shattered before the eyes of the man who aspired to become a legend.
“I’ll give you another prophecy right now.” Cale had many things to hear from Clope Seca, so he was honest with the Guardian Knight. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen to you.”
Clope couldn’t stop his bottom lip from trembling as he peered up at Cale. He’d assumed the priest came to him to convey a god’s will, but now that priest—Cale—served as the deity controlling Clope’s destiny.
“Your life is in my hands,” Cale declared, and Clope could feel that truth in his bones. Watching him quiver, Cale added, “Now that you’re at my mercy, tell me everything.”
In saying so, Cale had left something out. Clope had two options: to die peacefully or to die after more torture. Those were his only choices; being left alive wasn’t one of them.
Cale sat in the chair in front of Clope and stared down at him. Still shaking, Clope avoided Cale’s gaze, but he couldn’t lower his head. His only viable option was to shift his focus below those piercing eyes.
Cale remembered what Choi Han had said before he went to receive treatment.
“The Seca family is the household of the white snake.”
“White Snake,” Cale said.
He spoke directly to the white snake—Clope himself. The bloodied white snake gasped in response.
“What legend were you trying to fabricate this time?”
Clope realized that the man in front of him knew it all. His family’s secret, the fabricated legend, everything.
Horror began to consume him.
He then slowly opened his mouth to speak. While he’d kept silent throughout Vicross and Ron’s torture, he was now willing to talk.
And Cale listened to it all.
***
“You’re smiling,” Albert said as soon as the call connected.
Hearing this, Cale touched the corners of his lips. He could indeed feel a smile on his face.
Well, I learned a lot.
Cale had gleaned a wealth of information from Clope, including the reason a strong opponent like the helmeted knight hadn’t revealed himself on the Western Continent until now, as well as Arm’s motivation for going to the Eastern Continent.
He had also identified the real problem. There was only one conclusion: I changed the story.
All these things had happened because the war and Arm’s existence had been unearthed too early. Addressing that would have to wait, however, as he’d ascertained one more thing.
I’m quite lucky.
Cale leaned back on the couch, thinking about the crown in his possession. “This fatigue must’ve taken my sanity,” he told the prince.
He figured the crown prince would scoff at him, but Albert only grimaced in silence.
Though Cale found it odd, he pressed on. “I plan to go to Uvar territory tonight.”
“In that condition?”
What’s wrong with my condition?
After eating a couple of apple pies, Cale had a full stomach and was in great shape. The Energy of the Heart’s regeneration abilities had strengthened even further. Though he was covered in blood, his skin had gotten smoother. He felt as if he’d be fine even if he went three days without sleep.
Cale answered the crown prince without hesitation. “Yes, Your Highness. I’ll be going just as I am.”
Albert heaved a sigh. Cale felt strangely offended by that, but he needed to move fast. The mark Raon had left on the helmeted knight was transmitting magical signals to them, indicating that the knight was returning with ships.
This time, they needed to kill that bastard. Cale had no intention of letting the knight die a peaceful death—why else would he bring Ron and Vicross with him?
Additionally, he’d left a message for the ancient dragon Erhaven via communication sphere. Erhaven would probably contact him after seeing that he’d called.
With a laundry list of things to do, Cale was in a rush. Hence, he got right down to business.
“Your Highness.”
“What is it?”
“About the Whale Tribe…”
Albert still hadn’t decided whether the whales should fight as Rowoon’s allies or conceal their existence. “What about them?”
“Let’s join forces with them and attack Faern.”
Silence descended. Then Albert started to laugh.
“Pfft… Ha ha ha!”
Once his laughter finally died down, he studied Cale’s mess of a face. He could see a sharp glint in the redhead’s eyes.
Albert grinned. This punk really is amazing.
“I like it. I like it quite a bit.” Before hanging up, Albert said one last thing: “Take care of yourself.”
Click.
Albert ended the call without waiting to hear Cale’s response. Wholly unsurprised, Cale waved over the person standing behind him. “Ron.”
“Yes?”
He pointed to the corner of the room and ordered, “Go bring Müller. Ohn and Hong as well.”
“You wish for the cats to come up from the training grounds?”
“I do.”
Cale knew this battle wouldn’t be difficult, so he’d instructed Ohn and Hong to continue training instead of taking part in the conflict. He had a task for them now, though.
Ron soon brought the three before Cale. The half-blood dwarf-rat Müller kept his distance from the cats, trembling, while Ohn and Hong made a beeline for Cale—only to freeze at his blood-spattered appearance. The cats paced circles around him.
“Are you ready?” Cale asked the pair.
“Ready!”
“We’re good to go!”
With their affirmation, Cale stood. He was bound for Uvar territory. Soon, Ohn and Hong’s poisonous mist would coat the ocean; after all, there was nothing in the waters that he needed to protect. Their enemies would perish before they knew what was happening.
The name of this operation was “Ghost.” It suited the dead silence of the nighttime sea splendidly.
***
Uvar territory was on Rowoon’s northeastern shoreline. The territory’s ruler, Countess Poplina Uvar, scanned her surroundings while taking in the frigid ocean breeze. Her future successor, Lady Amir, observed her.
Splash, splash.
In this spot, one could best hear the waves crashing against the naval base. Shadows still wreathed the usually dark and quiet port, but today it was livelier than usual.
The magic teleportation circle flashed with the newest arrival, and Poplina extended her hand. “Welcome, Viscount.”
“Ahem! Nice to see you again, Lady Uvar.”
The viscount awkwardly accepted the countess’s hand. He had previously belonged to the northeastern faction affiliated with Marquess Ailan. Now, dressed in his armor, he would attempt to blend in with the rest of the group.
He left Poplina’s side and moved to stand with the other nobles, who wore dark expressions. Instead of greeting the nobles from the southeast faction, he swept a glance around the naval base.
He placed a hand over his tremulous heart. One person’s voice kept echoing in his mind.
“The shield didn’t break.”
The viscount recalled the intense battle he’d seen from his castle. After everything he’d witnessed, he couldn’t resist rushing here right away, knowing this was where he’d find him.
Tonight, the northeastern region’s military commander, Cale Henituse, would make his appearance.
The viscount remembered what Cale Henituse had said as he walked away from the oval table back then: “If it’s a mark of nobility to align oneself with the strong, then you will soon have to decide whom to align yourselves with to survive.” If the viscount wanted to survive, he needed to stick close to Cale. This was his only chance to do so.
His gaze wasn’t the only one darting about; the rest of the nobles were just as eager. Everyone’s eyes were wide in shock. Though the darkness only allowed them to perceive faint outlines, the numerous ships and soldiers in perfect formation proved how long the Uvars had been preparing for this battle.
We’ve been left in the dust.
The nobles realized that they had fallen behind. Compared to House Uvar, their own capabilities were so minuscule that their presence might not make a difference. They could do nothing but wait for a powerful leader to arrive.
At that moment, the communication sphere in Amir’s arms flashed. She turned toward her mother. “He’s coming,” she said.
The nobles dissolved into a bundle of nerves. Was it Cale Henituse?
Thrummm.
The teleportation circle activated, its magic on a greater scale than it had been upon transporting the others. A large group was coming through. The nobles standing around gulped anxiously.
As the magic circle flashed once more, silhouettes materialized within it. When their figures were tangible, the countess addressed them. “Welcome, Knight Captain. Mage Captain.”
The first company of royal knights could be identified by the crest on their armor. The other group was being revealed to the world for the first time. Beside the knights stood dozens of people, their hooded robes shrouding their faces.
Everyone had heard what the countess said: “Mage Captain.”
The first mage brigade was comprised of the best of the best among the mages Albert Crossman had gathered. This formidable force was showing itself for the first time since its establishment.
The mage captain took the countess’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Beneath the cloak was Albert’s aunt, the dark elf Tasha, in her human form. She was an elementalist, not a mage, yet she was the acting leader of the mage brigade. The real leader was Rosalyn, but Tasha had taken over for her while she was busy in Brek.
“Will he be here soon?” Tasha asked.
When the countess nodded, Tasha silently led the mages to an open area. The royal knights stood beside them. While the members of the company weren’t very talkative, Tasha knew full well what had rendered them speechless.
The mage brigade carried a communication sphere as a matter of course. Upon leading the mages and knights here, she had shown them the battle for Henituse territory. It had been an electrifying clash—a conflict between entities that even Tasha had never expected to see.
The confrontation between the dragon slayer and Cale’s group had shaken her. She’d almost lost her mind with worry about the necromancer Mary and the rest of Cale’s entourage.
As for the knights, they were stunned for a different reason.
Tasha glanced sidelong at the knight captain. Seemingly in his forties, he looked like a stubborn man with a strong sense of responsibility. At present, the knight captain kept a quiet watch over the teleportation circle along with the rest of the knights.
They had seen an aura-wielding swordmaster.
It had been a long time since such a warrior had graced Rowoon. Now a new swordmaster had appeared like a bolt from the blue—and he’d led the defending forces to victory from atop an undead dragon. Tasha appreciated the shock felt by everyone who’d witnessed the battle, so she joined their silent vigil.
Amid the slush of splashing waves, the teleportation circle vibrated one last time. Thrummm.
It was the sound they’d all been waiting for. The nobles yanked their gazes away from the knights and mages, focusing again on the magic teleportation circle. With a flash of white, people appeared one by one.
Someone gasped.
The first person who came into view had one of his shoulders bandaged. Another member of the crowd muttered his identity, though they didn’t even know his name. “It’s the swordmaster…”
At the swordmaster’s side, they could see someone wearing a black robe. Mary had remained invisible throughout the entirety of the last battle, but the observers assumed she was the necromancer.
Ron followed the pair, wearing an assassin’s outfit—complete with a mask. Next came Vicross, dressed in a swordsman’s garb and armed with a greatsword, then the half-blood dwarf-rat Müller, who was accompanied by two kittens.
The last to appear was Cale Henituse. The crowd gulped as the man of the hour appeared within the magic circle.
“B-blood…!” one of the nobles blurted out.
Cale took in the crowd arrayed before him, unflinching. He looked exactly as he had at the end of the battle. Standing there in the same bloodied outfit he’d worn during the day-long conflict, he might’ve been deemed dirty and shabby. Yet the nobles didn’t think he fit either of those descriptors; they instead felt the formidable presence of one who had survived on the battlefield. It helped them understand that the war was only just beginning.
The countess chose that moment to speak. “Attention!”
While the nobles flinched at her command, loud voices erupted from behind them. The soldiers who had been standing in orderly formation this whole time shouted in unison.
“Greetings, Lord Cale!”
The navy’s full company addressed Cale with such enthusiasm that the entire shore seemed to shake. Their salute was for the northeastern military commander, Cale Henituse.
As the nobles murmured at the sight, a different noise caught their attention.
Shiiing!
The knight captain had drawn his sword and raised it in the air. The rest of the knights followed suit, raising their swords in lieu of speaking. One after another, blades left their scabbards, gleaming under the moonlight.
Shiing!
Their swords reached toward the sky in a demonstration of their might. This was the knight’s salute: a greeting reserved for those to whom they would submit.
The mages produced small orbs of light, which they sent above the nobles and the soldiers. The dark shoreline gradually lit up.
Cale watched all of this in silence before he opened his mouth to speak. “Good, I can see now.”
He wasn’t rigid or formal, but nobody found this unnatural. In fact, they didn’t even pick up on it—or rather, they didn’t have the leeway to do so.
“There’re a lot of people here,” Cale said impassively, taking in his audience.
The nobles saw the look in Cale’s eyes. They could tell he regarded them with contempt, but they didn’t dare to breathe a word. The combined strength of Cale’s forces matched the royal family’s—surpassed it, in some respects. Also, Cale was a hero. The entire kingdom still buzzed about the battle that had taken place earlier that day, with Cale’s name on everyone’s lips.
Most importantly, Cale exuded a different ambience, one worlds apart from what they had felt in the banquet hall. They sensed the aura of a ruler. These nobles, more sensitive to individual power than anyone else, bowed their heads.
What pathetic punks.
Cale spared only a lazy glance for the people trying to survive by lining up under his banner before he turned to look at the soldiers. Their faces showed their anxiety and concern, but also their hope.
When Cale spoke again, his deep voice carried to the hundreds of people listening. “Prepare for the expedition.”
Those words marked the beginning.
The atmosphere on the coast changed in an instant, tension descending upon the shoreline. They’d been expecting that very order. Cale’s speech wasn’t finished, however; he delivered his next words in a calm voice, without a sliver of reluctance.
“Tomorrow night, we’ll obliterate the enemy.”
Obliterate—meaning to kill every last one of them.
As that word etched itself deep into the soldiers’ minds, someone bellowed in a thunderous voice, “Yes, sir!”
It was the knight captain. He raised his sword and placed it over his chest. His voice rang with his determination to carry out Cale’s directive.
The countess motioned as if in response to his cry, and the Uvar soldiers cried out as well. “Sir, yes, sir!”
A heavy veil of anxiety hung over the coastline on this dark night, but thrill and excitement was weaved in with the disquiet.
“Obliterate the enemy.”
Cale’s order reverberated in all of their minds. They would carry it out without fail.
***
The following night, Cale wore a clean outfit as he stood on the deck of a ship, listening to Ron’s report. His hair fluttered in the ocean breeze.
“The fleet is mainly comprised of midsize ships, with over three hundred in total.”
As the intel sent by the whales reached Cale’s ears, he held on to each piece of information. He wouldn’t let his guard down anymore; this battle would represent his determination never to do so again.
“Originally, there were ships we’d never seen before. We suspect that they used those to traverse the ice up north.” Those vessels had probably been crafted by the dwarves.
Cale dropped his gaze to Müller. “Explain.”
When Cale addressed him, Müller seemed so startled that he might’ve fainted on the spot. He quickly replied, “I believe those were built by the Flame Dwarves! I’ve heard that their skills are meager when it comes to magic devices, but they’re quite famous for their mechanical contraptions.”
“Meager?”
“To be honest, it’s more accurate to say that they can’t make magic devices at all.”
Dwarves who couldn’t make magic devices were like elves who couldn’t bond with elementals. Müller felt a bit sorry for them, which explained his distress.
For his part, Cale considered their sorrows none of his business. Great, then I can blast them away with magic. If magic was the dwarves’ weakness, the mage brigade could kill them.
Be that as it may, he also had to consider the magic scrolls that the helmeted knight and the bears had used during the battle. Their access to the scrolls suggested that the enemy was proficient in magic as well. The helmeted knight had almost certainly teleported to the ship because it carried mages and healers on board.
In that case, Cale needed to get rid of them too.
Beep. Beeeep.
“Commander!” Lady Amir, outfitted in leather armor, ran over to Cale. She carried a blinking-red video communication device in her arms.
That same moment, Cale spotted a small boat approaching their ship, bringing with it a familiar cry…
“Meow.”
“Meeeow.”
He smiled; he’d been waiting for that sound. The boat heading toward Cale’s ship carried Ohn and Hong, cradled in Choi Han’s and Vicross’s arms respectively.
Cale managed to catch Lady Amir’s report over the eerie wail of the wind brushing by his ear.
“The enemy ships have passed the third boundary.”
Their foes would soon approach the fourth and final boundary, where Cale’s ship was at present.
Cale peered down from the deck at the masterpiece concocted by the children with an average age of nine.
‹All done.›
Swshhh.
A whisper akin to leaves rustling in the air—a sound rarely heard out on the open sea—suffused the sea around the fourth boundary.
It was mist. A thick mist blanketed the water. Thanks to that, the only boundary with a physical marker disappeared from sight. For the enemy, this fourth boundary would become an invisible perimeter of death.
Operation Ghost had begun.
“Kill all the noise,” Cale commanded.
Starting from Cale’s ship, Rowoon’s entire navy went quiet. Silence swallowed the ocean.
The ghosts lay in wait for their enemies’ arrival.
***
Nearly three hundred ships sliced through the waves in a triangle formation, evoking a flock of birds in migratory flight. This fleet had departed from the Indomitable Alliance’s naval base in Norland.
At the center of the formation, in the highest cabin of the largest of the icebreaker ships that had cleared a path through the frozen northern shores, the helmeted knight was receiving medical treatment.
“How pathetic.”
The dragon slayer frowned at the healer’s comment, but he couldn’t speak properly at present. With a sigh, the young, childlike healer cast a spell on the knight’s heart.
Two-thirds of his heart had been destroyed. It would take at least a week to restore, and at least another month after that for it to fully recover. He was also missing an arm, but the limb would be easy to replace once they informed the organization.
The healer scoffed. “Looks like you need to be locked up for a while like that tamer geezer.”
“Shut u—argh!”
The dragon slayer couldn’t finish his retort; the magic claw that had clenched around his heart at the end of the fight still caused him excruciating pain.
A third person—an elderly mage—had been watching the dragon slayer and the healer. “A swordmaster just below your level, a necromancer, and someone with an Ancient Power capable of blocking your sword once all exist in that tiny backwater?” he said thinly.
“Uh-huh.”
The dragon slayer’s attitude carried a hint of disrespect, but the mage paid it no mind. “And there’s a mage stronger than I am?”
Though mention of the mage startled the dragon slayer, he didn’t let it show. “Yeah. That mage was able to imitate my Sword of Disasters, and they almost destroyed my heart.”
He’d also seen a dragon’s eyes, but he chose not to mention that. That one’s all mine.
If he reported the information, the goddamn organization would take the dragon for themselves. After abducting the creature, they’d probably make a show of presenting him with the dragon’s jugular like it was an act of charity. That was the original deal that fell through when the dragon they’d had in mind suddenly disappeared.
He recalled the pair of draconic eyes observing him during the battle for Henituse territory. Based on the size of those eyes, it wasn’t an ancient dragon; he felt certain it was a whelp that hadn’t even experienced its first growth phase yet. The dragon slayer concealed his heart, which thudded wildly.
It wasn’t that the dragon had opted not to use Dragon’s Breath—it couldn’t use it at all. The very thought sent a thrill zipping through the dragon slayer. If he played his cards right, he might win himself the opportunity to get stronger without that crazy bastard at the head of this organization knowing about it.
I’ll devour the second dragon for myself.
As the dragon slayer fantasized about this beautiful future, the mage’s voice grated on his ears once again. “That swordmaster below your level—how’s his vessel?”
By “vessel,” the mage was referring to a body that could hold Ancient Powers. Though these abilities were generally considered weak, that was an assumption propagated by ignorant fools. Among the Ancient Powers, those created naturally—as opposed to those born from humans—were true gifts. How could these boons from nature be weak? Idiots simply believed that because they didn’t know how to use them. Though to be fair, it was true that the Ancient Powers from humans weren’t as imposing as those with natural affinities.
The dragon slayer paused at the mage’s question, then tossed out a lie. “Eh, his vessel wasn’t anything big.”
In actuality, the swordmaster with the black aura had a vessel similar to his own. He couldn’t tell the truth; if he did, these people would have no reason to heal him. They would seek out the other vessel instead.
“Hrmm.” The old mage’s forehead wrinkled in contemplation. “We’ll need to head to Henituse territory as soon as we finish conquering Rowoon’s shores. We must eliminate them.”
Clutching at his wounds, the dragon slayer snapped, “That damn noble! The red-haired bastard is mine!”
The man in question was the one under the dragon’s protection, so his capture would lure the creature in. The dragon slayer was confident he could take that noble down with one arm—after all, the guy only had a shield and a human’s regenerative powers.
Despite his dramatic fit of fury toward his fellow owner of Ancient Powers, the mage wasn’t interested. “Whatever. They shouldn’t present a challenge if you, the healer, and I go together.”
The dragon slayer didn’t disagree. The old mage and the healer had their uses, even though both were weaker than he was.
With one last glance at the healer and dragon slayer, the mage opened the cabin door. Outside, someone bowed in greeting.
“We’ve almost reached Rowoon’s northeastern shoreline.”
It was the magic spearman—the very enemy Cale’s group had faced most often in the past. This practitioner of magic and spear arts had betrayed Hana, the swordswoman and fake saintess.
Still lowered in his bow, the spearman examined the trio inside the cabin. Each held a rank higher than his own; these three essentially formed the organization’s core, a fact easily distinguishable by the red star adorning their robes. While the magic spearman’s outfit displayed a large white star surrounded by five small red ones, they all bore only a single red star.
Only five people boasted uniforms with a lone red star: the five who served the White Star.
“We’ll depart soon. I’ll be heading to the lead ship.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll escort you there.”
As the magic spearman dipped his head to the old mage once more, the healer grumbled, “I thought you said Rowoon’s naval base was insignificant. If they barely have any ships, why do we need so many?”
“We’re aiming to conquer the Kingdom of the Whipper’s shores at the same time. Besides, Rowoon is stronger than we expected. It’s good that we brought these numbers,” the old man said indifferently as he crossed the threshold. “And more importantly, Rowoon managed to blindside us. We should repay them with an eye for an eye, no?”
The corner of the healer’s mouth lifted in a smirk as he nodded. “I suppose so. Rowoon probably only expects the Indomitable Alliance. In all likelihood, they have no idea we’re on the ship. This should be fun.”
They were all accustomed to the healer’s habit of licking his lips in anticipation. None of them disputed the child’s words.
Unbeknownst to them, there was someone else having even more fun in that moment. In the watery depths far beneath the fleet of three hundred ships, a humpback whale glided through the ocean.
The humpback whale with an X-shaped scar on her back—Witira, the future Whale Queen—looked to the south.
Their enemy had almost reached the fourth boundary.
Witira smirked, recalling what Cale had said last night. “Witira, take the whales and decimate Faern’s shores. In the meantime, we’ll obliterate the enemy fleet.”
This really is going to be fun.
When she’d seen Cale’s confident expression, Witira knew it for certain. Cale was a man who kept his word; she didn’t need to witness it with her own eyes to know what was going to happen.
Swinging her large tail, she changed direction. Now bound for the north, away from the fleet of ships, she swam in the opposite direction. Many members of the Whale Tribe and true whales followed in her wake.
Without a sound, these forgotten creatures swept toward the north.
***
At the same time, a nigh indiscernible noise reached Cale’s ear.
Click.
It was an alert sent by a mage: the sign that the enemy had arrived.
A smile spread across Cale’s face.
The mist obscured the enemy’s vision, but it had done the same for their allies. Cale had no reason to hide any of his cards anymore.
With the exception of Cale’s close companions, Rowoon’s people were under the impression that Cale only had a shielding ability. He didn’t bother correcting their misunderstanding, as things were easier that way. Showing off his strength wasn’t necessary for him to live a peaceful life.
In any event, there was no need for secrecy within the haze.
As the ocean fell still once more, a soft breeze blew over the water.
Fwshhh.
Surrounded by the steadily expanding mist, Cale got moving.
***
The murky cloud advanced without a sound, like a cat’s footsteps.
“Hm? Mist…?”
The old mage had left the ship with the cabin and moved onto the deck of the vessel at the fore of the fleet. A crease formed in his brow.
The white mist veiling the shadowy sea was spread over quite a vast area.
Do Rowoon’s shores usually get so foggy?
At the old man’s side, the magic spearman experienced an ominous sensation.
“It’s not magic,” the mage said abruptly.
“It isn’t, sir?”
“No. This mist’s not magical at all.”
Since the fog wasn’t magical, it was probably a natural phenomenon. Aside from magic, what else could produce such conditions?
Relieved, the magic spearman issued an order as the ships sailed into the haze. “The waters are calm, but we’re entering a foggy zone. Raise the warning level to one, just to be safe.”
“Yes, sir!”
A soldier from Norland bowed and obeyed the magic spearman’s command. This ship primarily contained individuals affiliated with Arm, while the two ships behind it carried people from the Indomitable Alliance.
The Norland soldier picked up a horn and took a breath, preparing to convey the magic spearman’s orders to the rest of the fleet. As he inhaled, he noticed that the fog was already right in front of his nose.
I thought it was farther away. Are we already in that foggy zone? he thought as he placed the horn between his lips. All he needed to do now was to blow.
Suddenly, a gust of wind spread the fog even wider. Fwshhh.
The mage shouted to be heard over the hissing gale. “This wind is made by magic!”
At the same time, they heard a different noise on deck.
Clang!
The horn had fallen. The magic spearman spun around.
“Augh, ghk!”
Blood spilled from the mouth of the soldier who had taken a big breath. The magic spearman, still breathing in the fog as he watched this happen, flinched abruptly.
The fog was poison. It was an enemy attack.
He clamped a hand over his mouth, but the wind was already blustering around them.
Shaaaa.
The draft swept the fog toward them. In an instant, the pale murk consumed their surroundings.
“What the…?!” the magic spearman blurted out, his eyes widening.
Bit by bit, the fog was dyed a foreboding shade of red. This bloodstained mist slowly blanketed the ocean.
Produced by Raon, Ohn, and Hong, the miasma seeped into every possible nook and cranny.
“Hrk!”
“What kind of fog—agh!”
Unfortunately, the fog affected the weakest ones first. The soldiers of Norland and Faern clawed at their throats, their eyes blind to all but the color red. The magic spearman hastily created a magic shield, then picked up the horn.
Bwoooo. Bwoooooo.
The pattern of blasts signaling war instead of warning rang out across the ocean, soon reaching the center of the fleet.
The child aboard the central ship—the healer—sprang to his feet and looked out the window. “What’s going on?”
He watched as Arm’s foot soldiers collapsed, hacking up blood amid a carmine haze.
“Poison?” His eyes glinted. This was a healer’s forte. “I’m heading out for a bit.”
The healer reached for the cabin door, but the dragon slayer grabbed his small wrist. “Stay here.”
“What?”
“Stay—ugh—here! I’m not healed yet!”
The healer gaped in disbelief. How could someone be so selfish? He’d completed first aid; all the dragon slayer needed to do now was rest. The people coughing up blood and dying outside all belonged to their organization.
Yet the dragon slayer didn’t feel as reassured as the healer expected. “Listen, I have a bad feeling about this.”
Unease churned in his gut. While he’d gotten some rest, his condition was far from stable; he was still injured, not to mention one arm short. He felt safer with the healer at his side, even if this healer was the weakest fighter in their group.
With a sigh, the healer pushed the dragon slayer’s hand away. “I’ll take a look at the situation outside and then come back.”
“Be back here in one minute!”
Nodding in response to the man’s shout, the healer turned the doorknob. Click. The door opened, and the healer left the cabin.
Once the door closed, the dragon slayer glanced out the window. His intuition buzzed. After his initial defeat in Rowoon’s Henituse territory, that intuition was telling him something: The kingdom that had hidden a swordmaster, a necromancer, and a dragon probably had something else up its sleeve.
He tried to focus. Healed or not, he had to be ready to fight.
Just then, he heard the sound of the latch and the healer shuffling on the other side of the door. The dragon slayer smirked. This middle-aged healer with a childlike face might have been sly, but he listened well.
“Hey, hurry back inside!”
While the healer could’ve been of some assistance during battle, the dragon slayer urged him to rush back. It didn’t matter to him if the grunts out there croaked.
The door creaked open—and the childlike healer toppled over the threshold. Whump!
Then, the dragon slayer saw red.
Is that mist?
As a shroud of red mist blanketed the healer’s body, the situation registered in the dragon slayer’s head.
“Shit!”
The dragon slayer leapt from the bed, but a black aura slammed his body into the wall.
Bang!
“Ugh!”
A whisper of a sound followed, and the dragon slayer spotted a flash of white; it was a glove. Cornered, he had no choice but to brandish the Sword of Disasters once more—though it would be tough for him to wield it for long in his current state. This is my last chance for now!
The aura shot out at him again. He hopped back just in time, and the impact cracked through the air.
Boom!
He knew this attack. Choi Han, the swordmaster who’d challenged him in Henituse territory, had returned. Black aura rose from his palm.
As soon as the dragon slayer pulled himself away from the wall, the aura came flying at him anew, forcing him to take another step backward.
Something appeared at his back: a white-gloved hand. The stealthy foe who’d entered with Choi Han had materialized behind him, with the skills of an assassin and bladework to rival a swordmaster.
Choi Han was in front of him, and an assassin was at his back.
The moment the dragon slayer’s expression crumpled, the gloved hand snagged him by the neck.
“Agh!”
A dagger pierced the stub of his severed shoulder and twisted—an exceedingly painful attack. Choi Han lanced the dragon slayer’s stomach with his black aura, then vaulted into the air.
Boom!
The ceiling of the cabin burst to pieces, revealing a sky obscured by red mist.
“Ngh!”
Still held by the neck, the dragon slayer was hauled through the ceiling. His mind was a blur. How had they appeared out of nowhere?! And how had they found him the second they arrived?
He had no way of knowing Raon’s magic and the Whale Tribe’s reports were at play. Nor did the old mage, whose magical skills were far below Raon’s level.
Coughing, the dragon slayer glared at the assassin choking him tighter and tighter: a fellow in his sixties. Ron, who had borrowed his son’s white gloves, flashed a smile in return. He had dutifully fetched the dragon slayer for his young master.
They were positioned at the top of the enemy fleet’s central ship. Cale turned to Choi Han and Ron to deliver a command—the first utterance beyond a grunt or groan in quite some time.
“Let’s get started.”
“Woooo-ooo…”
A ghostly wail rose up from the sea. More joined, and soon the eerie chorus of crying souls numbered in the hundreds. From up high, the dragon slayer had no choice but to see—no, to feel—every bit of it.
Bap. Someone prodded his cheek, and he turned his head. Cale Henituse was smiling brightly at him.
“Y-you have another Ancient Power?” the dragon slayer asked in astonishment.
Cale poked the dragon slayer’s face again. “Take a good look.”
“Woooo-ooo…” The wailing emanated from the ocean floor.
“The cries of ghosts are truly frightful, aren’t they?” Cale whispered.
A roar surged up from the bottom of the sea, and the commotion abruptly stopped. Then a cyclone came raging out of the water.
Fwoom! Fwoom!
Cale’s Ancient Power and Raon’s magic worked in tandem to create this cyclone amid red mist.
As Cale fixed his gaze on the dragon slayer, there was no trace of a smile in his eyes. He remembered his promise to everyone to obliterate the enemy. Cale Henituse—no, Kim Roksu—was a man of his word. Now he needed to uphold his oath.
Of course,how he fulfilled that oath was up to him.
Bam!
The cyclone shot up and crashed into the ship. The mast shuddered and tilted to the side. Someone screamed…and then it snapped.
The Indomitable Alliance was under attack from both the sky and the sea, yet no visible enemy assailed them. Only one person, the dragon slayer, could see their foes.
He stared vacantly at the ocean, lost for words. The din of things breaking and people shrieking reached his ears. Some used magic against the mist and vortex despite the lack of living targets, while a handful of knights fearfully slashed their swords at the air.
“Turn the ships! We need to get away from the mist and that cyclone!”
The few people who snapped to their senses took refuge inside a magic shield. As the dragon slayer took in the scene, one of his allies rose to mind.
Why isn’t the old mage doing anything?
Why wasn’t that old man coming to save him? He didn’t like the bastard, but the old mage had a knack for finding his way out of difficult situations. It was strange for him to remain docile; he should have taken action by now. Or could it be that—
“Someone is choking you, yet here you are, off in your own world.”
Needless to say, Cale had intentionally given the dragon slayer an opening to let his mind wander; only then would he truly understand his circumstances. Cale’s plan revolved around the open sea, and he’d orchestrated it so the enemy forces would have nothing around to support them.
Cale touched on the man’s situation in a friendly manner. “What’s the matter? Are you surprised that the mage isn’t doing anything?”
“How do you—”
Boom!
Before the knight could finish his sentence, there was another impact—this one much stronger than the others. The dragon slayer whipped his head toward the sound to see a pillar of water and a bright light clashing near the fleet’s leading ship.
It wasn’t that the mage had chosen not to act; his hands were tied because he was under attack.
Cale whispered into the dragon slayer’s ear once more. “You know I have a dragon, don’t you?”
He sounded utterly pleased. The dragon slayer, on the other hand, felt a chill down his spine. He took a good, long look at Cale.
Who would think of this man as a righteous hero? And how could he host three different Ancient Powers inside his body? Cale’s vessel was pathetic, around the same size as the vessels of mindless degenerates. So how was this possible? Even if he did possess regeneration abilities, the powers of wood and wind would clash within a few years, and he would eventually suffer a tortured demise.
Or maybe…
An outlandish thought flashed through his mind. Right then, an unexpected sensation racked his body.
Thump, thump!
It was a warning from the Sword of Disasters. The Ancient Power inside him was reacting to something.
“Wh-what the…?”
He looked down—or more precisely, he looked at Cale’s hand. A small red thunderbolt crackled in Cale’s palm.
It was fire. The tiny bolt radiated heat stronger thaneven the volcano within the Sword of Disasters, and he sensed a destructive power beyond anything he knew.
Fire and lightning were the mightiest of forces, able to flare up from the ground and strike down from the sky. When they combined, the fire’s potency was amplified.
The dragon slayer’s lips trembled. That outlandish possibility had become a reality. “N-no way…”
Had Cale gathered all five elements? Was that why his body hadn’t been torn apart? Did his regeneration power and the balanced five elements stabilize his glass egg of a vessel? Though he and Cale were on equal ground, he felt like Cale loomed over him.
“How could you gather so many Ancient Pow—”
“Because I’m different from you.” Cale then asked lightly, “You’re an artificial dragon slayer, right?”
The dragon slayer’s eyes darted about anxiously, whereas Cale was at ease. He recalled one of the facts Guardian Knight Clope Seca had revealed to him:
“He’s supposedly a fake dragon slayer. Ngh… Besides him, the other high-ranking members of Arm accompanying the Indomitable Alliance are a mage and a healer. I heard he grew stronger after consuming the latest ancient dragon that died—ghk!—about two hundred years ago on the Eastern Continent.”
Ancient dragons close to death were allegedly better prey than dragons in the prime of adulthood. For this particular knight with the Sword of Disasters, dragon corpses were the best medicine.
Nevertheless, this dragon slayer needed something else to complete him. In addition to the Sword of Disasters, he required a relic that had been passed down through generations: a crown. The crown that consumed dragon blood was essential for him to obtain a draconic body.
Clope had angrily spilled all these secrets. “But…some bastard…st-stole it—koff!”
When he said that, Vicross had whipped him in the head once again.
Cale held back his laughter. Yes, I’m the bastard who stole it. His heart pounded, body thrumming with excitement yet again.
The gluttonous priestess spoke up. “Can I eat this too?”
The most active Ancient Power in Cale’s body was the Sound of the Wind, and the host of the Unbreakable Shield lusted after that power relentlessly. Alas, Cale shook his head at the priestess’s question.
I’m pretty greedy too.
Once an Ancient Power’s owner died, the ability affixed itself to a special place or item. The Unbreakable Shield ended up in a tree, the Energy of the Heart was in the stone tower, the Fire of Destruction in the pig sculpture, and the Sound of the Wind in the spinning top beneath a boulder. Each waited quietly in its place until its next owner came calling.
One couldn’t automatically gain an Ancient Power by killing its current owner; if that were possible, there would be no reason Ancient Powers disappeared for long stretches of time.
The glutton raised her voice inside Cale’s mind again. “I really can’t eat it?”
She meant the Sound of the Wind. Her greed for other powers was endless, but Cale shook his head again.
No. Not today.
His vessel was still lacking; he couldn’t overdo it anymore. More importantly, although he didn’t have anything to offer the shield today, there was something he wanted for himself.
Since Ancient Powers were affixed to things rather than transferred directly, it was a simple matter: All I have to do is pick it up. Then it would be his.
Cale fixed his eyes on the dragon slayer with the gaze of a hunter who’d found his quarry. He recalled what he’d planned to do with the man: beat him to death.
Unfortunately, Cale lacked the strength to do so himself. His body had grown even weaker and leaner than before. At times like these, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the muscle mass he had during his life as Kim Roksu.
On the flip side, hadn’t he sought out Ancient Powers precisely because he wouldn’t need any strenuous physical training?’
Cale pointed at the dragon slayer, which made the man flinch. “Throw him.”
What?
Before the dragon slayer could question what was happening, he felt his body being lifted up.
“Yes, young master,” Ron replied, immediately flinging the dragon slayer into the air.
His eyes went wide. “N-no!”
Beyond the red mist, he could hear the sky groaning. Rumble, rumble.
The night sky flared a blood-soaked crimson for a single heartbeat. Helpless, all the dragon slayer could do was gape at it.
A red thunderbolt lashed down from the sky, striking him. Boom!
“Ahhhhh!”
He activated the Sword of Disasters’ volcano attribute, but it was no use—an even stronger power had devoured his body.
How does this guy have such a power?!
The thunderbolt had singled him out with extreme prejudice. His skin began to burn a charred black.
Bam!
He slammed back down onto the ship.
“Ugh!”
The dragon slayer twitched. As he spasmed on the ground, he looked like a worm—or maybe a snake.
Hissss. The remnants of the red thunderbolt didn’t snuff out; instead, they dug continuously into his flesh. While he writhed on deck, the thunderbolt transformed into a serpent that slithered through his body.
Even so, the dragon slayer had been quite sturdy ever since consuming the ancient dragon given to him. He retained his sight, his hearing, and his sense of smell, and he could still speak.
Tap. Shoed feet landed in front of him. All at once, his convulsions ceased.
Cale thought about the Ancient Powers that the dragon slayer held within his body: one, the Sword of Disasters, and two, the power to control wyverns. Then he remembered what the World Tree had told him:
‹The person collecting Ancient Powers has gathered three.›
The dragon slayer picked up the sound of Cale’s voice. “Why aren’t you using your last Ancient Power? You have one more.”
Dread coiled in the dragon slayer’s gut. How much does he know?
He quivered again, for a different reason this time. He’d assumed that Guardian Knight bastard Clope Seca had ratted him out, but only the dragon slayer himself and that crazy bastard were aware that he possessed three Ancient Powers.
And how does he know?!
His charred face tilted toward the sky, but the only thing he saw was Cale’s smile.
“Hurry up and show me,” Cale murmured, “so I can take that too.”
With his eyes still functioning, the dragon slayer could clearly see the way Cale was looking at him. He reeled in disbelief. His burned flesh tore and bled every time he opened his mouth, but he had to speak up.
“How could you have…?!”
All of a sudden, he felt something overwhelm him—an aura that could only belong to a supreme ruler. As one who dreamed of becoming a full-fledged dragon slayer, he recognized the source: the Dominating Aura. That useless scam of a power was making it difficult for him to breathe. In his current state, reduced to crawling on the ground, he couldn’t even handle this phony ability.
I can’t keep this knowledge to myself.
This man possessed the Dominating Aura, a regeneration ability, and Ancient Powers affiliated with five different elements. He broke all the rules of nature, ignoring the fragility of his vessel. As someone who had surpassed the limits of the human body himself, the dragon slayer knew this well.
In the world, as in nature, there were always exceptions. No one knew how those exceptions might manifest.
He sincerely believed he should share this information. He needed to pass this intel on to Arm… But as another thought occurred to him, that impulse evaporated.
Will I even make it out of this alive?
This crazy Cale Henituse had kept his Ancient Powers a secret from other people, masquerading as a righteous, benevolent noble while hiding the fact that he was capable of true ferocity. Could the dragon slayer survive and escape his clutches?
The dragon slayer had a mind for schemes, and by now he had a solid grasp on Cale’s personality.
I’ve been tricked.
Cale had deceived him. He didn’t know how Cale pulled the wool over his eyes, but his instincts told him that everything had gone awry because this bastard had duped him.
“I-I’ll tell you everything!”
Hence, he scrambled to find a way to ensure his survival.
“This will be useful to you!” he blurted out. “If you have the Dominating Aura, the crown will be advantageous to you too. You know about the crown, right? I’ll bring that to you! And I’ll tell you all of Arm’s secrets as well! I swear!”
Though his body was already numb to pain, relief swept over him when he noticed Cale listening intently.
That relief was short-lived.
“I will decide,” Cale said, withdrawing an item from his magic bag, “whether you tell me or not.”
The dragon slayer’s eyes bulged as he stared at the crown in Cale’s hand. His mind blanked out as shock and terror consumed him.
He’s worse than that bastard!
By “that bastard,” he was referring to White Star, leader of Arm. The dragon slayer had met him only once, but Cale had proven to be the viler of the two.
“You’ve seen the head of the organization, haven’t you, Sirem?”
Cale Henituse had called the dragon slayer by name. White Star knew nothing about Cale, yet Cale knew him. That made all the difference.
The dragon slayer—Sirem—nodded vigorously. “H-he was wearing a mask, so I wouldn’t recognize his face, but I-I’ve met him!”
“Your body is in too weak a state for you to show me your final Ancient Power, right?”
“R-right! But I’ll still show you if you want!”
Since Cale seemed amenable, Sirem tried plastering on the most submissive face he could muster as the conversation continued. However, his intense burns marred his expression, especially given that they were still smoldering.
Screams and destruction still rang out around him, but none on Rowoon’s side were affected. The uproar came solely from his poisoned allies and their splintering ships.
Sirem desperately stared at Cale, waiting.
“That won’t be necessary,” Cale told him.
“…What?”
“I don’t need to see your Ancient Power.”
I’m going to take it anyway, Cale thought. I can see what kind of power it is then.
He turned away from Sirem and walked up to the people behind him. “Make it so he’s only capable of talking, Ron.”
Ron rubbed his gloved hands together, smiling. Sirem had dared to harm Cale’s people, so Cale had no intention of letting him die peacefully—and he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
“Leave something for Raon, Choi Han, and Mary as well. I’ll be there once they’re through,” Cale added.
“As you wish, young master.”
While Ron strode past Cale toward Sirem, Cale stepped over to Choi Han’s side and observed the nighttime seascape. “It’s time.”
The moment had arrived. Cale got started, activating the Sound of the Wind.
“Aaahhh!”
A mage from the Indomitable Alliance was deflecting the poisonous mist with a magic shield. “Keep the ship moving!” he shouted to the navigator. “We’re almost there!”
That cry reached the navigator—as did the shrieks of soldiers toppling from the wrecked ships. He also heard the death throes of his crewmate dying beside him. Yet the navigator kept on steering the ship with shaky hands.
I need to live!
With that thought alone running through his head, he avoided the roaring whirlpools and barely managed to steer through the mist.
The mage protected the navigator, the elite soldiers, and himself, constantly urging them onward. “Yes! Just a little more!”
If they could find their way out of this venomous haze, they still had a chance. He watched as the toxic red mist began to thin.
“That’s it, only a bit farther!” A relieved smile spread over the mage’s face. A moment later, something took him aback. “Huh?”
In the distance, beyond the red mist, loomed something dark red.
“W-we got around the whirlpool!” the navigator whooped. Only then did he too spot what lurked on the other side.
Numerous crimson ships surrounded the mist’s edge, blending in with the haze. At their forefront was a golden ship.
Having returned to his post, Cale stood on the golden ship’s deck. He touched the sculpture of the Henituse family crest, the golden turtle, as he addressed the people who had only just dragged themselves out of hell.
“I’ve been waiting.”
These enemies had eked out a path past the poisonous mist, but now they were greeted by true ghosts: the people who wanted them dead.
And sure enough, Cale gave the order. “Obliterate the enemy.”
Countless arrows and spells launched over the dark sea.
***
Crossing the rough winter sea was no simple matter. Thus, all of the navigators who sailed along the northeastern coast were experts, and the northern alliance had recruited only the best of the best from among these specialists.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Boooom!
The true sea of death revealed itself to those who had painstakingly waded through the whirlpools and emerged from the red mist.
“Get into formation! Launch the cannons!”
The soldiers of the Indomitable Alliance finally snapped to their senses and sprang into action, terror written all over their faces. They trampled their comrades’ corpses, but they had neither the wits nor time to notice.
One man on the ground, poisoned but still clinging to life, groaned as another soldier stepped on him. The soldier spared only a glance for his poisoned crewmate before moving on. Telling himself that stopping to help would spell his own death, the soldier continued on his way while treading on corpses. Some of his fellows had been helping their comrades just moments prior, but they could no longer afford to do so.
“Move quickly if you don’t want to be buried at sea!” one of the knights shouted at the troops. “If you want to take your departed comrades back home, start rowing!”
Before they could attend to their cohorts’ bodies, they needed to survive. Otherwise, they would all die out here, and their remains would be lost forever.
It wasn’t like this when they’d first set out with a fleet three hundred ships strong. At that point, they’d believed they could destroy anything and everything. The reality was quite the opposite: Their enemies were the ones primed to wipe them out.
“Refill the gunpowder!”
“Where are the archers?!”
Chaos reigned on the deck. The knights scrambled into formation while the mages fired off spells.
Plink! Pling!
Many arrows bounced off of the mages’ magic barriers and the knights’ shields. One mage from Faern swore at the hail of projectiles. “Damn it! When did they do all this?!”
The fleet of scarlet ships swarming the scene almost matched their own in scale.
“How did Rowoon do it?!”
Rowoon’s response to the Indomitable Alliance’s declaration of war had been full of confidence, yet most nations on the Western Continent had paid it little mind. After all, there had been nothing special about Rowoon for decades.
How, then, had Rowoon produced such powerful forces? Where had this formidable navy come from? If a single kingdom boasted such an immense naval presence, why didn’t it dominate the sea?
The mage from Faern created an even larger magic shield, barking an order at his subordinates. “Shoot off fire or lightning imme—”
He stopped mid-shout at the sight of fireballs rising in the distance. All at once, dozens of them soared into the sky.
How could Rowoon employ a magic attack like that? First the navy, and now the magic!
The mage cast a spell on his eyes to broaden his perspective. “Shields!” he bellowed.
Just then, droves of fireballs pelted the ships that had just escaped the whirlpools.
“Augh!”
After barely fending off the attack with shield magic, the mage looked to the front of the crimson fleet with his magnified perception. He could see countless red ships, with some members of the enemy mage brigade aboard each one. As he stared at the robed figures, his jaw dropped.
“This is madness.”
Where had Rowoon gotten so many mages?
What’s going on? The mage’s gaze shifted. He picked out what he thought was a robed mage floating up into the air—but he was wrong. This wasn’t a mage but someone using a wind elemental to levitate.
It was the dark elf Tasha.
Tasha focused her attention on the voice coming from below—Cale’s voice.
“One more time!” he told her.
She raised her hands, and the dozens of mages representing the mage brigade cast spells in unison.
Crackle, crackle!
Lightning orbs shot into the sky. Amplifying her voice with the wind, Tasha delivered the military commander’s order.
“Attack!”
Once more, the orbs launched at the ships.
Cale watched the strike, then spoke up again. “Move the ships.”
Communication spheres transmitted his voice to a handful of the red ships. The knight captain, who was aboard one of those vessels, drew his sword.
Shiiing.
The moment the rest of the knights took out their swords in response, the ship halted in front of a midsize enemy vessel.
Cale’s voice reached the knight captain’s ear through the communication sphere. “Slit their throats.”
Before the knight captain had a chance to move, he heard the footfalls of someone rushing up from behind him, leading the charge. As the lone man surged ahead, the knight captain spurred his troops to action. “Onward!” he ordered, stamping his feet.
All the knights had to do was rush in after the man in the lead.
The knight captain leaped up and landed on the deck of the enemy ship. The other knights followed, some using their physical abilities to jump while others climbed up with ladders. They moved without hesitation, their eyes locked on that lone man at the forefront. One of his shoulders was wounded and wrapped in bandages, but his opposite hand was already conjuring a black aura.
Choi Han, Rowoon’s first aura-wielding swordmaster in ages, had joined the fray even though Cale told him to rest. His blood boiled, and he couldn’t sit still. In the end, Cale had given him permission to act.
“Do whatever you want. I’m sure you’ll take care of yourself. But just so you’re aware, I won’t take you anywhere with me if you get hurt again.”
Choi Han knew Cale meant what he’d said. He kept that ultimatum in mind as he advanced, the royal knights flanking him. Aura-wielding swordmasters were known to have reached the apex of the sword. As long as that black aura was ahead of them, Rowoon’s knights had nothing to fear.
Boooom!
Choi Han’s aura decimated a cabin on the enemy ship.
From his vantage aboard the golden ship—the strongest and safest point in the fleet—Cale watched Choi Han lay waste to the enemy vessel.
That guy sure is something.
Cale took a leisurely look around the battlefield, convinced that Choi Han deserved to be the main character. The swordsman was steadily developing his identity as a hero.
I can relax a bit now.
With the large golden turtle sculpture beside him, Cale’s red hair stood out against the golden ship, drawing everyone’s eye.
This ship, the largest and most formidable in the fleet, had quite a few northeastern nobles aboard—the ones who’d pivoted away from the southeastern and central factions. They needed to get on Cale’s good side, so they couldn’t hide in their cabins; instead, they stood on deck behind him in their sturdiest armor.
The tableau playing out in front of them left them speechless.
Ships were blown to smithereens. People were dying. But not their ships or their people.
The nobles heaved a collective sigh of relief, their minds spinning with heaps of new information.
One of the nobles who had pushed for the southeast to take control rubbed the back of his neck, thinking,Who knew Rowoon had such a strong navy?!
It was common knowledge that the crown prince had commissioned the naval base. Seeing the size and strength of the navy, as well as the mage brigade sent to assist them, this noble quickly understood why the crown prince would succeed the throne.
But there was one more revelation that had shocked them all.
To think the Henituse family contributed a third of the funds for the naval base!
Now that the collaboration between the Uvars, the crown prince, and the wealthy Henituse family had been revealed to the world, the noble felt intimidated by House Henituse.
A quiet cough interrupted the noble’s thoughts. He turned his gaze forward once again, toward the person standing in front of him: Cale Henituse. The northeastern region’s military commander was wiping his mouth with his sleeve; the noble spied a splotch of blood on the fabric.
Even so, the noble could say nothing. At first, he’d been frightened by the Henituses, which had been quietly building their strength in the countryside. Now, a different emotion took the place of his fear.
He heard Cale give an order to the mage brigade. “Activate the shields. Protect the soldiers.”
At his command, they created magic shields to protect the soldiers from enemy mage attacks.
It was a one-sided battle. They were obliterating the enemy without suffering casualties. No one had ever expected Rowoon to dominate the Indomitable Alliance.
Upon witnessing this unexpected situation, all the nobles felt their hearts stirring. They heard one among their number speak up.
“House Henituse was originally the guardian of the northeastern region.”
Although House Henituse was now known primarily for its wealth, it was originally a martial arts household. Since the days of Rowoon’s founding, the Henituse family had safeguarded the entrance to the Dark Forest, defending the northeastern region and the entire kingdom beyond. The nobles had forgotten about this because Rowoon had been at peace for so long.
Marquess Ailan’s family was currently regarded as the greatest martial arts clan in the kingdom. While House Ailan had claimed the best land in southeastern Rowoon, the Henituse family had put down roots in this remote corner of the kingdom despite their house’s illustrious status at the time. They had chosen to move close to the Dark Forest, home to the strongest monsters.
As the nobles peered ahead at Cale, they shared an epiphany—and a thrill of anticipation. There he was, frowning in deep focus as he monitored the battlefield. Though he, an aristocrat,couldn’t even clean the blood from his sleeve, he delivered orders to the knights and mages without hesitation. He was reliable.
At the same time, the nobles felt a twinge of regret at having boarded this ship. Not that they could undo it now. The “true” heroes were on the battlefield, not on this fortified vessel. Those who would go down in history were already writing it themselves.
One noble bit his lip. He yearned to say something to Cale, but Cale’s expression made him impossible to approach. Accordingly, the noble suppressed his excitement and stayed quiet. His and all the other nobles’ gazes bored into Cale’s back.
Cale, for his part, didn’t sense any of it. The furrow in his brow grew more pronounced.
I’m hungry.
He’d kept the Fire of Destruction under control, so he wasn’t bleeding much, but he was still famished. It wasn’t like he could sit down and eat a steak in the middle of the battle, though. This state of affairs annoyed him.
Then Cale heard a voice in his mind. ‹We caught the mage, not-so-weak human.›
Cale’s lips quirked upward. Raon had captured the old mage. Sirem the dragon slayer and the childish healer had already been apprehended by the father-son duo of Ron and Vicross.
‹But I’m sorry…›
He’s sorry? For what? Cale’s half smile froze on his face.
‹You told me to take him alive, not-so-weak human, but he’s barely hanging on,› Raon explained. ‹He’s real close to death. I fed him a potion, so he’s still alive for now, but he’ll die in about two days.›
Oh, that’s all? Cale’s grin reappeared.
‹We captured that magic spearman too. He’s fine. Let’s throw him to that swordswoman, Hana.›
Cale was more than satisfied. The magic spearman had been close to the swordswoman and fake saintess, Hana, when Cale’s group clashed with Arm during the whales’ battle with the mermaids. Hana was itching to get her hands on the people who had stabbed her in the back, so she would be thrilled if they handed him over to her.
Content, Cale raised a hand. The nobles were startled by the gesture, but the two people right next to him—Tasha and Amir—understood perfectly.
“Prepare for a full assault,” Cale commanded.
The order for the final attack circulated through the fleet, and the nobles detected a shift in the atmosphere.
Shaaaaaa.
The wind began to blow, amassing inside the red fog.
“Larocque Seven!” the mage captain barked out.
Thrummm.
As the mages raised their hands toward the sky, myriad fine strands of mana coalesced into seven orbs. Rosalyn had led the former Whipper mages to create certain formations, and one of them now slowly revealed itself over the ocean.
Meanwhile, the royal knights—who had been running rampant aboard the enemy ships—returned to their own red craft.
“Fire! Don’t give them any openings!”
The soldiers shot endless volleys of arrows at the Indomitable Alliance as the crimson ships commenced a gradual retreat.
Creak, creak. The rowing soldiers infused more strength into each stroke of their oars.
After training alongside the whirlpools that Cale had left along the Uvar coast, Rowoon’s navy far surpassed the northern navigators in skill. The fleet was a cohesive unit, retreating in an orderly formation. Hundreds of ships withdrew from the poisonous mist, making for a grand spectacle. The spectating nobles were so engrossed, they didn’t even realize their visibility had improved with the approach of daybreak.
Cale cast his gaze toward the recently returned knights and the mages who had prepared their assault.
It was then that Raon checked in. ‹Finished.›
“Attack!” Cale ordered.
The instant he lowered his hand, the red mist mutated.
Swoosh!
The previously placid curtain fluctuated, whipping into a roaring tempest of red poison. The image evoked the toxic snowstorm that enshrouded the lake where the World Tree resided.
“Ugh!”
The harsh wind made the nobles and soldiers cover their eyes. They feared the toxic fog might sweep them up at any moment.
Then the mage captain’s small cry cut through the wind. “Fire!”
It was the same order given to fire weapons. The seven orbs of mana in the mages’ hands, representing seven different attributes, hurtled toward the red tempest and the enemy fleet.
Boooooom!
As soon as the seven orbs touched the poisonous whirlwind, there was a massive explosion. The very ocean shuddered from the blast. Even the nobles and soldiers aboard the golden ship had to cling to the railing or the deck because of the aftershocks.
“Ugh!”
“Argh! It’s so strong!”
Temporarily blinded, they struggled to keep their footing once the waves began to roil. People screamed and ships cracked apart as the explosion continued. They felt it in their bones that the enemies were dying.
As the water calmed back down, the noise faded away.
“C-Commander!”
The nobles flinched when they heard Lady Amir, who was in charge of communications on her mother’s behalf, calling for the commander. Had something happened to him? Distressed, they whipped their heads up.
They registered in the still waters of the sea—along with the sight of Cale gazing at Lady Amir. “Looks like I kept my promise.”
When Cale said as much, one of the nobles scrambled to his feet as if possessed. He staggered, having yet to regain his balance, but soon he saw Cale and the sea beyond the ship. Only now did he realize the water was getting brighter. As the sun climbed into the sky, the red mist had lifted. A mosaic of dead bodies and broken debris stretched as far as his eyes could see.
Something else caught the nobles’ and soldiers’ attention. They all turned toward the rising sun, toward a single spot illuminated by its rays. The archers lowered their bows. The navigators released their ropes, and the rowers let go of their oars.
An archer’s arrow clattered to the ground. Clang!
Cale, their leader, declared, “Contact the kingdom.”
The soldiers slowly lifted their hands as they listened to Cale, who was looking into the communication sphere in Amir’s arms.
“Spread the news. We are victorious.”
We are victorious. No living enemies remained at sea.
The soldiers threw their hands into the air with a collective cheer.
“Yeaaaah!”
“Woo-hoo!”
Shouts brimming with relief, joy, and excitement reverberated across the ocean. They’d survived, and they had seized victory. They had kept their promise. The soldiers’ cries expanded to include those sentiments too.
As the sun ascended to welcome a new day for Rowoon, the red ships lurched into motion once again, heading toward the golden ship—toward Cale Henituse. Everyone gathered around their leader, clamoring in celebration.
Chapter 45: In the Back
Chapter 45:
In the Back
THE RED FLEET clustered around its golden flagship. Choi Han and the knight captain hopped aboard, coming to a stop behind Cale. Tasha and Amir also stood at Cale’s back.
“Mr. Cale!” Choi Han called out, speaking on everyone’s behalf.
Cale was staring out at the ocean, where corpses and debris bobbed along the surface. As Choi Han slowly approached, he noticed Cale frowning.
He really has a soft heart, Choi Han thought.
“How peaceful,” Cale said.
His voice sounded tired; fatigue dripped from his every syllable. A hush settled over the crowd. Although he’d said something pleasant, they were struck silent by the weight and sorrow in his voice.
At the word “peaceful,” a certain quote leapt to the surface in the mind of one of the nobles. His quick recall was thanks to him musing about House Henituse during the entire battle. Without thinking, he recited it aloud: “‘No need to go down in history. Just live for peace and happiness.’”
The noble’s unexpected statement prompted everyone to turn his way. His peers tilted their heads, thinking the words sounded somewhat familiar. They felt as if they’d heard this before, but they couldn’t clearly remember where.
Then Cale spoke again. “I see you know our family motto.”
Indeed, it was House Henituse’s motto.
The nobles’ expressions changed in an instant. Learning the source of the quote left them speechless. Even as Cale smiled, they could see melancholy shadowing his features; the people on board could tell how much weight the phrase “peace and happiness” held for the Henituse family.
One of the nobles hummed in understanding. He had envied the pivotal role Cale played in such a historic battle, but that lordling valued peace and happiness over fame.
It’s that mindset of his that allowed him to do this.
The noble had heard that the Henituses spent their accumulated wealth to provide food and farming tools to their residents, in addition to pouring money into the naval base and the city walls.
House Henituse’s mentality was the reason they had refrained from participating in the kingdom’s power struggles to this day. They moved only to secure peace and happiness for Rowoon.
Quiet took hold of the deck once again.
At the same time, Cale was also reflecting on his family motto. One didn’t need to leave a mark on history. Instead, one should simply aspire to a peaceful, happy life.
Cale was in awe of his ancestors’ philosophy. The people of old truly were wise. Who cared about renown? There was nothing better than being safe and warm, with a full stomach.
Though by that logic, Cale’s current situation was quite miserable.
His frown deepened. He wasn’t just miserable; he was starving. What kind of torture was this?
Knowing that his suffering now would lead to fifty years of peace, Cale opened his mouth to bring about his solace. His desire to hurry home and laze around in bed circulated among the red ships surrounding them.
“Let’s go back…to our land.”
As everybody heard Cale’s voice, his words didn’t inspire cheers; instead, they made Rowoon’s citizens bite down on their lips. This ocean was far from everything they knew, but they had a place to return to. They were alive. They could go home. Rather than exultation at their overwhelming victory, a feeling of peace at their survival washed over them anew.
The three hundred ships had traveled like a flock of migratory birds on the way here, but now, the red vessels followed their golden flagship home.
Of course, not every ship in the fleet returned; a few didn’t turn back under Cale’s command, lingering on the peaceful sea. These stayed behind to locate any enemy corpses that were floating or sinking into the depths.
Although Cale played the part of a cold and callous leader to his allies, he knew many members of the enemy fleet were innocents who’d become soldiers in order to survive. He watched the remaining ships complete their survey of the area before he turned around.
As the golden ship sailed back toward shore, he absently rubbed the golden turtle statue.
I’m so hungry. I’ll have to eat first thing when I get back.
Unfortunately for Cale, he wouldn’t get the luxury.
***
There was no time for Cale to rest; he had too much to do. Cale barked a humorless laugh, which echoed off the walls of the dungeon. Once he was done chuckling, he dragged both hands over his face. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time.
I shouldn’t have trusted them.
Cale lowered his hands to see someone unconscious on the ground. It was an elderly man wearing a robe adorned with a single red star—the old mage from Arm.
“He really is hanging by a thread,” Cale muttered.
“He’s alive, but he’s barely breathing. He’s on the verge of death, but he’s hanging in there.”
The old man truly was knocking on death’s door. Injuries riddled his entire body, his skin mottled blue as if he’d been pummeled by myriad magic spells in addition to the poison. His magic circle must have also broken during the battle; bruising marred the skin covering his heart.
Cale turned to Raon. As they were the only ones present, the black dragon had made himself visible. Raon avoided Cale’s gaze as he ambled toward a corner of the dungeon, accompanied by Ohn and Hong.
“My not-so-weak human bled,” Raon mumbled. “Spilling their blood wasn’t enough—it needed to gush out of them. They shouldn’t be allowed an easy death. We need to rip them to shreds and cut their heads off.”
“I agree!”
“Our youngest did a good job this time. We did too.”
Since even Ohn agreed with the other two, Cale decided to let it go. These three were still children; what could he really expect from them?
Much to Cale’s disappointment, it seemed he wouldn’t be chatting with the old mage. He turned accordingly to the other two people bearing a sole red star on their robes.
Vicross peeled off his gloves and tossed them aside. Plop. The gloves, stained black with dried blood, landed on the table with the torture instruments.
Brushing back his neat hair, Vicross told Cale, “They’re unconscious right now, but they should be able to talk once they wake up.”
In other words, they would only be able to talk. Cale avoided looking at the fake dragon slayer and the healer, whose souls were well on their way to the gates of hell. His gaze landed on someone else, who gasped when their eyes met.
It was the magic spearman who used both spells and spear arts—the same one they’d often encountered in their battles against Arm. He tried to tear his eyes away from Cale…but he couldn’t.
“It’s disrespectful to look elsewhere when the young master is facing you.”
Ron had grabbed the magic spearman by the hair, forcing him to face Cale. The magic spearman trembled at Ron’s voice, unable to see who had him pinned.
Cale found this strange. The magic spearman isn’t hurt at all, so why is he so scared?
He shot a puzzled glance at Ron. The assassin’s answering smile provided all the explanation Cale needed.
I guess there’s nothing more frightening than the old man next to him.
It would’ve been abnormal if the magic spearman wasn’t afraid. Cale returned his attention to the shaking prisoner. “This is your first time meeting me, right?”
The magic spearman couldn’t say anything; a mess of emotions flashed in his eyes. Cale smiled at that.
Ohn and Hong’s poisonous mist. Choi Han’s black aura. Ron’s stealth and assassination skills. The magic spearman had witnessed all these things before in the Ten Finger Mountains. He’d clashed with these experts in the valley with the elven village, though of course, they were wearing makeshift Arm uniforms when he saw them.
These were the same individuals who always got in Arm’s way. And though they had all of Arm fuming, the organization had no way to determine their identities.
Yet the magic spearman had faced those same people in this battle.
He peered up at Cale Henituse—no, the leader of the group that thwarted Arm time and again. That leader slowly crouched down and made eye contact with the magic spearman.
“You know who I am, don’t you?”
Cale’s tone was soft, but his mild inquiry only made the magic spearman’s head spin even more. Ultimately, he dropped his gaze to the ground.
As he did, he heard Cale’s voice again. “You seem at least moderately smart. You know when to speak and when to hold your tongue.”
Chills ran down the magic spearman’s spine. Cale was all but admitting that this wasn’t their first meeting—and that he wouldn’t live to see another day if he told anyone about Cale’s identity.
Ron yanked on the magic spearman’s hair to make him meet Cale’s eyes, but the magic spearman didn’t raise his head; he kept his gaze locked on the ground, refusing to look at Cale until the bitter end. He knew the difference between people he should and shouldn’t stare at.
“You really are smart.”
That remark sent relief washing over the magic spearman, and he relaxed a little. He could still feel Cale’s eyes on him.
Who are these people?
He’d heard that Cale was a kind, unassuming young lord, so where did this mercilessness come from? Nonetheless, he didn’t dare dwell on the question—it would show on his face if he did. Instead, he chose to keep his eyes down and empty his mind.
Cale observed the magic spearman in silence. Hana and this man had been close, like true siblings. But while Hana had sincerely regarded him as a brother, the magic spearman had only been acting. Stabbing someone in the back like that required a certain cleverness.
“Since you know who I am, I should keep you separated from the others,” Cale said.
The magic spearman closed his eyes; he knew he was in big trouble. He had only done whatever he had to do to earn a living, so how did he end up in such a mess? Everything had gone wrong since the day that fake saintess got away.
As the magic spearman bowed his head, Cale gave Ron an order. “Keep him separated, but don’t torture him. Just make it so he can’t run away. Oh, and block off his mana and aura.”
The magic spearman took this as a good sign. Although Cale had wreaked havoc on Arm without revealing his true face, the magic spearman was seemingly safe from the noble’s terrifying methods for now. With his head down, however, he couldn’t see the looks exchanged by Cale and his entourage.
When Ron moved the magic spearman to a different prison, Choi Han watched him go. Before he knew it, he said, “I suppose he’ll have the most painful death of all.”
“Of course. Hana’s going to kill him.”
The magic spearman would be handed over to Hana. He would probably beg to be tortured by Ron or Vicross instead.
Cale left Vicross and Choi Han in charge of watching over the three members of Arm. With their auras and mana sealed and poison coursing through their veins, it wouldn’t be a difficult task.
“Guard them well,” Cale instructed.
“If I make any mistake, it would be to kill them by accident,” Vicross responded with a deadpan expression. “There will be no other oversights.”
He really is Ron’s son.
Cale stared at Vicross, then caught Choi Han nodding in agreement. He turned away from both of them; they would probably be more thorough than he would himself.
White Star… I need them to describe his appearance.
These three were the only ones within Cale’s grasp who knew what White Star looked like. He needed to wake them up at least once to extract that information. It would be an excruciating experience for the trio, but that was none of Cale’s business. Why should he care about people who tried to kill him? What about his own people who got hurt because of them?
Cale walked to another cell to visit someone he had secretly brought over.
“Hello there.”
Guardian Knight Clope Seca quivered, moving his chained arms as he bowed down to Cale. He looked as if he was prostrating before a god. His condition had slightly improved since last time.
The person responsible for healing the Guardian Knight spoke up in a stilted voice, reminiscent of a GPS navigator. “Lord Cale.”
Cale turned to the necromancer Mary, who hadn’t taken part in the naval battle. Mary was supervising the Guardian Knight.
“Let’s go,” he told her.
“Yes, sir.”
Clack, clack. The skeleton she’d been putting together stopped moving.
As Raon arrived in his invisible form, Cale pointed at the Guardian Knight. “Pack up,” he said, sounding for all the world like he was telling Raon to pack his bags.
Now, what next?
The Whale Tribe had gone to attack Faern, but they had no interest in conquering the kingdom; they were merely doing this to get their revenge. After watching them, Cale had made up his mind. He knew what his next task should be.
We’ll stab them in the back.
He was going to create a mole within the Indomitable Alliance.
Faern had fabricated a legend to monopolize everything for themselves. How would it feel to have that kingdom under Rowoon’s heel and put them to work as spies?
Cale’s gaze slid toward Clope. When the Indomitable Alliance least expected it, Cale would implement the plan and hit them where it hurt.
He padded toward the Guardian Knight. Clope, restrained by Raon’s magic, was overwhelmed by fear. As soon as they made eye contact, he froze like he’d been petrified.
“We’re off to visit your hometown, Clope,” Cale said lightly. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Clope bobbed his head several times, still resembling a devotee obeying his god. Even though Cale’s hair was its usual red, it appeared white in Clope’s eyes.
Clope would die in his hometown. Cale regarded him dispassionately before exiting the dungeon. He had no mercy to spare for enemies who harmed his people.
On his way up the stairs to the surface, Mary and the children averaging nine years old fell into step behind him.
“Time to eat,” Cale declared.
“Yes, sir.”
“Meeeeeow.”
“Meeow.”
‹Sounds great! A steak for me!›
Cale picked up the pace, visions of the steak and wine he was about to enjoy dancing in his head. He drew closer to this delightful meal with every step.
As he strode along, the door leading to the surface came into view. Cale turned the knob with hasty fingers, and the door creaked open.
Beeeep. Beeeeep. Beeeep.
The next instant, the wailing of communication spheres assaulted his ears. Emergency alarms blared even through the barely opened door.
Cale stopped mid-swing. It sounded as if Amir and the communication mages were standing right outside the prison entrance, waiting for him.
Should I stay here?
He seriously considered this option, but eventually he chose to open the door. His annoyed face emerged into the open air.
“Lord Cale!”
It was Lady Amir. For her to forget to call him “Commander,” she must have been in quite a rush; urgency was plain on her face. The whole group had been waiting for Cale with communication spheres in their arms. Their expressions didn’t bode well.
Beeeep. Beep.
The emergency signals rang incessantly, but only the royal communication sphere in Amir’s hold remained silent. This communique hadn’t come from Rowoon’s palace, nor from their allies. Rather, the calls were coming from the extra devices they kept with them in case of communication from other parties.
“What is it?”
Amir peeked at Mary, who stood behind Cale, before she answered the question. Jaw set in anger, she announced, “We’re receiving messages from several different faiths on the Western Continent, and every single one within the kingdom.”
So this was the temples’ and churches’ doing.
“Most calls are coming from faiths concerning light, with the Church of the God of Sun contacting us more than any other.”
Mary flinched within her black robe. The hood swiveled toward Cale.
Beeeep. Beeeep.
A necromancer had appeared—a being who made use of evil powers, like dead mana, unleashed upon the world anew. The Church of the God of Sun and the other faiths associated with light took pride in the fact that they had rid the world of necromancers, but now one of those cursed entities had reemerged on a battlefield in Rowoon.
“It seems the different faiths used their local branches within Rowoon to contact us directly when the crown wasn’t willing to take their calls. We’re receiving messages from all over the Western Continent.”
The religions were using their priests’ healing abilities as an excuse to send all sorts of messages and video call requests to the northeastern region’s naval base.
Cale held out his hand to Amir. She hesitated, then took a letter from her pocket and passed it to him. Cale read the first sentence:
We call upon the Kingdom of Rowoon and Cale Henituse, who have revived this plague of evil upon the Western Continent, to explain themselves and to hand over the accursed creature.
Amir, the communication mages, and the other important individuals at the naval base had all seen this message, prompting them to rush over. They waited on tenterhooks for Cale’s response.
Mary drifted to Cale’s side to read the letter. The second she came up beside him, Cale ripped it to pieces before she could see a word. The torn shreds of paper fluttered to the ground.
“Ignore this nonsense.” His directive was calm and concise. “Those who look down on their savior aren’t human. Keep that in mind.”
Mary startled at this, and Cale placed his hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t need to tell anyone here who our savior—the hero of our battle—is, right?” he said, addressing the onlookers.
Mary’s fists clenched under her robe.
Suddenly, another sharp noise blared through the air—this time, from the device providing direct communication to the crown.
Beeeeeeep.
Amir rapidly read the brief message left on the device, shock plain on her face. As it was pressing news that couldn’t wait until they had time to chat, the crown had kept it short.
“Commander! The Indomitable Alliance is heading to Karo’s shores!” she shouted. “They’re only a week’s voyage away!”
Cale’s demeanor shifted.
Karo was south of Brek and west of the Mogor Empire, making it the Empire’s closest neighbor. Based on their current location, the Indomitable Alliance must have launched a fleet to invade Karo before they had even begun their advance on Rowoon, bypassing Brek and Death Canyon along the way.
“And according to Brek’s mage in charge of intelligence, the number of ships is almost impossible to—” Amir stopped short and shot Cale a befuddled look. He was smiling. “Commander?”
Cale looked down at the message he’d ripped to shreds. It had specifically come from Karo’s branch of the Church of the God of Sun. The church’s influence was strongest in Karo. Unable to ignore them, Amir had handed Cale their message first.
He remembered the person he’d met in Karo’s auction house under cover of a white mask: the bishop from Karo’s branch, who had agreed to pay Cale twenty-three billion counds for the God of Sun’s divine item. The bishop probably hadn’t known about the Indomitable Alliance’s fleet when sending this message.
Plus, the bishop doesn’t know who I am.
And in truth, the Church of the God of Sun had more than one branch in Karo…
Cale turned to face the robed necromancer at his side. He thought about the people he planned to turn into heroes. Once they’d carved their names into history, his involvement would fade from memory.
The dark elves were among those heroes-to-be. Since people loathed them, they lived in a city underground—and that so-called City of Death was beneath Karo. Furthermore, the dark elves had honed Mary into a powerful necromancer.
Then there were the fake saintess and the half-saint residing in the stone guardian’s villa…
Cale’s smile widened. He ground the torn scraps of the message beneath his heel. “Looks like they won’t need to live in hiding anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
Amir and the others gaped at him in confusion, failing to grasp what he meant, but Mary and the children clearly understood.
Tap, tap. The cats pawed at Mary’s black robe, and she loosened her clenched fists.
Turning to Amir, Cale said, “Connect me to the crown prince.”
***
The commander’s headquarters had been established as both an office and a venue for strategic planning sessions. Cale sat at the head of the long, oval table as he waited for two communication mages and Amir to connect him to Albert.
Both of the mages kept sneaking peeks at Cale. The absence of any of his usual subordinates piqued their interest. As he sat there alone with a tense scowl on his face, the mages felt a twinge of anxiety. Neither soldiers nor any other nobles had joined Cale in the room; did that mean this stony expression was Commander Cale Henituse’s true face? Feeling like they’d caught a glimpse of their hero’s private side, they stopped looking.
Cale, however, was thinking about something else at the moment.
I can’t believe I have to skip meals and work.
He was supposed to be the commander. He had the highest rank here. So why did he have to suffer like this? This situation deeply offended him.
‹Weak human, aren’t you hungry? Should I give you an apple pie? It’s not soggy anymore!›
Cale ignored the six-year-old dragon’s comments.
“We’re connected, Commander!”
Lifting his lethargic head, Cale looked at the screen, where Albert’s face steadily materialized.
Amir and the mages bowed in Cale’s direction. “We’ll be heading out now,” she said. “We’ll take care of the rest after you notify us that the call is over.”
Cale and Albert, the commander and the crown prince, were to have a private conversation. When Cale gave them a nod, the trio moved to quietly and quickly file out of the office.
The moment Amir turned the doorknob, the communication sphere finished connecting, and the crown prince’s handsome countenance appeared on-screen. His voice boomed through the office. “Our kingdom’s star, Cale Henituse!”
The connection had completed faster than Amir had expected. As she opened the door, she nodded her agreement. He’s right. Lord Cale really is our kingdom’s star.
She needed to leave before they started discussing official business. Amir hurried through the open door, but before she could make it all the way out, a statement reached her ear.
“The high nobles at the conference are talking about giving you a first-tier Medal of Honor. What do you think?”
The council of high nobles was the largest gathering of Rowoon’s marquesses and dukes. Given that the king or his proxy usually attended these meetings, Albert led the conference as His Majesty’s representative.
A first-tier Rowoon Medal of Honor was the kingdom’s most prestigious accolade. The war had yet to end, and the Indomitable Alliance was still on the move, yet the high nobles wanted to award the medal to Cale. This showed the extreme favor with which they regarded the northeastern region’s victory. Thus, they were considering giving the regional commander, Cale, a significant reward.
Not only had nobody received that particular medal for the past two hundred years, but Cale would also be the youngest recipient in history. It would set Cale on the path to become an influential member of Rowoon’s aristocracy.
Amir and the mages smiled, thinking it was only natural that Cale should receive this honor. He had earned the most merit during the battle, and he would probably accumulate more distinction than anyone else throughout the entire war. It was exhilarating to hear that someone they respected was acknowledged by others too.
Thrilled, the trio grinned at each other as they headed out the door. So as not to disturb the conversation, they set about closing the door with care and discretion—but before the door latched, they heard Cale’s voice once more.
“I don’t need it, Your Highness.”
Amir’s hand froze on the doorknob. He didn’t need it?
“The war isn’t over yet. I don’t require such hollow rewards.”
Cale genuinely didn’t want it. A Medal of Honor? That would be a catastrophe! If they foisted that on him, he wouldn’t be able to rest—in fact, he might even have to work for the rest of his life.
Empty praise didn’t interest him, and he had no use for more land or money. He was probably the wealthiest person in the kingdom already. What he truly needed was time to fool around and spend that wealth, not a so-called “reward” that would turn him into a hostage forced to solve the kingdom’s problems.
Since no one but the crown prince could see him at the moment, Cale openly scowled. “All I ask is that the soldiers are given enough time to eat.”
Of course, Cale was essentially requesting that he be allowed the time to fill his belly.
With trembling hands, Lady Amir shut the door. Click. She stared at it for a moment before prying her fingers from the knob one by one. Her forehead puckered as she scrubbed at the corners of her eyes with her hands, Cale’s words echoing in her mind.
“How could someone be so…?”
She looked to see the mages wearing similar expressions on their faces. The three spent a beat absorbing each other’s reactions before they walked off, faces set in determination.
Their commander always worried about their health. He didn’t covet fame or power; he cared more about their meals than such things. As Amir and the mages thought about this, an emotion beyond words swelled within them. With full hearts, they hurried off to carry out their respective responsibilities.
Meanwhile, Albert gaped at Cale, saying, “Forget the soldiers’ meals! Take care of your—”
Much as he wanted to point out how pale Cale was—his face looked like he’d been starving for a week—the crown prince stopped himself, holding back a sigh.
“Your Highness, I’m also one of your soldiers.”
Cale meant what he said, but Albert couldn’t believe it. If Cale had time to make snide comments, then he should eat! How could Cale be so foolish when it came to his own well-being? This punk seemed sharp and witty enough to ensure that he never wound up at a disadvantage, but he was oddly obtuse about his health.
No… There’s no way this brilliant bastard is so stupid about his own condition. He’s probably pretending to be dense.
Albert donned a bitter smile.
The kingdom was at war. As Rowoon’s crown prince and acting commander in chief, Albert could understand why this bastard had to disregard his own health. Accordingly, Albert pretended not to notice Cale’s condition as he continued the conversation.
“You must have a headache from all those institutions contacting you.” He paused, then prepared to tell Cale not to worry, and that he’d cut off the priests’ communications soon.
Cale beat him to the punch. “No. It’s fine.” He’d sagged so far back into his chair at this point that he was practically lying down. He grinned from ear to ear, as though he’d never worn a frown in his life.
An odd sensation took hold of Albert—a whisper of intuition.
As if in response to that inkling, Cale went on, “Karo is wealthy, right?”
“…Indeed.”
Albert thought of how the Indomitable Alliance was advancing on Karo’s shores.
“And they don’t have the strength to fend off the Indomitable Alliance.”
“True.”
The crown prince knew Rowoon had only managed to do so because of their thorough preparations…and because they had Cale Henituse on their side.
Cale’s voice perked up, eager now. “I also presume that word of our victory will spread throughout the continent in the next day or so.” Albert had nothing to say to that, but Cale wasn’t waiting for an answer. “There’re many faiths associated with light in Karo.”
“Go on.”
Cale knew Albert followed the gist of what he was saying. He stared directly at the crown prince.
“You’re smiling, Your Highness.”
Yes, the crown prince was smiling.
The Kingdom of Karo, flush with riches from its auction houses and its famous landmarks, lacked the strength to defeat the Indomitable Alliance. This situation affected the faiths associated with light within the kingdom as well. They too would wish to be spared. So who would they reach out to for aid? Naturally, they would remember the recent victory won by their neighbor, Rowoon.
Karo would appeal to Rowoon for help, without a doubt.
‹Your smile is even more sinister than his, weak human!› Raon exclaimed in Cale’s head.
Uninterested in a six-year-old’s comparisons, Cale kept his gaze fixed on the crown prince as he said, “Karo is weak.”
“I assume they’ll ask us for reinforcements.”
Cale nodded. And if Karo did ask them for help?
“Then…”
Observing Albert, Cale remembered his promise to Mary and the dark elves, whom he aimed to turn into heroes. Albert’s thoughts were probably similar to his own.
“Rowoon will grow stronger. Those who’ve been forsaken will return to the world and find acceptance in Rowoon—and the rest of the Western Continent.”
“Those who’ve been forsaken.”
As in the Land of Death, and the dark elves living beneath it.
Albert Crossman was one-quarter dark elf, which had required him to hide his true appearance throughout his life. When he heard Cale’s declaration, he couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.
The forsaken would find acceptance. As an individual—not as the crown prince—Albert felt a lump form in his throat at the thought. Nevertheless, he had to weigh his options and make decisions as the crown prince first and foremost.
It would be profitable. The Indomitable Alliance might have lost to Rowoon, but they would go after Brek and Karo now. After Karo, they’ll aim for Death Canyon.
Future events would definitely benefit Rowoon.
“You really are a clever crazy bastard.”
Cale didn’t disagree.
“All right, then,” Albert said with a nod. “Let’s try it.”
***
Cale squeezed his eyes shut, then reopened them.
“Weak human, are you cold?”
A wintry sea breeze buffeted Cale. He fell backward, feeling the slippery back of a whale beneath him.
“Are we almost there, Archie?” Raon asked.
“Yes, Lord Raon.”
Cale cracked his eyes open to see the shores of Faern—the northernmost region of the Western Continent.
The whales would soon lay waste to Faern’s northern coastal guard.
***
Standing atop a small iceberg some distance away from Faern’s shore, Cale listened to Raon go on excitedly.
“Hey, weak human! Are we busting things up again?” the black dragon demanded, flapping his wings.
Cale wrapped a scarf tightly around his neck. “Probably?”
It was February, so the coastline ahead was still frozen. Cale observed the five patrol stations dotting the area.
They were at Faern’s northernmost border. Its defenses against the Whale Tribe had once been stronger than anywhere else, but now that the whales had been forgotten, the number of guards stationed along this frigid shore was dismal.
Raon’s voice rang in Cale’s ear again. “Then are we taking this thing too?”
The three whales next to Cale on the iceberg flinched; they were Archie, Witira, and Faseton. They slowly looked to the side, where a white-haired man sat in a wheelchair with a vacant expression.
It was Guardian Knight Clope. Sitting there stock-still, he seemed completely unresponsive, but the moment Cale’s attention landed on him, awareness bloomed in his eyes.
“You’ll go with us, won’t you, Clope?” Cale asked in a genial tone.
Archie winced at Cale’s friendly demeanor, but Clope’s response almost bowled him over. Clope raised his limp arms into the air. Then he clasped his hands together and bowed deeply to Cale from his seat. As before, he looked to be lowering himself before a deity.
What’s going on here?! Archie thought. He shot a searching glance at Faseton, but the half-blood whale shook his head, mystified. Though the three whales had all heard it, he had no idea either.
“You know what you have to do, right?”
“I will do…as you command.”
What? Archie frowned suspiciously, but Cale paid him no mind. He simply took note of the fear in Clope’s eyes.
Choi Han had cut off one of Clope’s arms, and Ron had severed the other. His two legs had been ground into minced meat. Yet in this moment, all of his limbs appeared normal. He had regained his legs, though they wouldn’t move, and he could use his two arms, albeit slowly.
“Lord Cale… Everything’s okay, right?” Witira ventured. She wasn’t asking about Clope’s condition, as she felt no sympathy for the enemy. She just wanted to make sure Clope was dependable.
“Don’t worry.”
After hearing Cale’s confident response, Witira had no further questions. If he said it would be fine, then it would be.
Cale turned away from Clope with a snort. He knew that Clope regarded him as a god. There’s no way he’s being sincere, though.
He believed Clope’s behavior stemmed from fear. When the necromancer Mary had crafted Clope’s new legs and arms, Cale had instructed her to do something else while recreating his limbs. Mary had instantly understood what he wanted.
“Do you need me to put dead mana in there?”
Dead mana was a deadly poison to the living. Even Hana had only survived thanks to Mary’s help.
That poisonous power infused all four of Clope’s appendages at this very moment.
Those new limbs are bombs.
Cale recalled what Mary had told him: “If I send a signal, or if someone makes an attempt to heal him, all of his limbs will explode. Once that happens, he will die right away.”
Clope’s life was in Cale’s hands. He would do anything to stay alive, hence Cale scoffing at him. This was the man who had duped the continent into thinking he was the knight who ruled the wyverns. What wouldn’t a guy like that do to save his own skin?
Cale would never trust his enemy. He had no intention of relinquishing Clope’s weakness.
Raon glanced between Cale and Clope before flying over to Witira. In a hushed whisper, he told her, “That white-haired guy’s got a few screws loose, but he can still play his part.”
“Understood, Lord Dragon.”
Witira finally put her concerns about Clope to rest. If both Cale and Raon said it was okay, she had no reason to worry. Witira didn’t see the full picture, however. “He’s got a few screws loose”? She didn’t get what the black dragon really meant by that.
When the six-year-old Raon saw that Clope was staring at Cale, he heaved a sigh.
Clope’s gaze remained fixed on Cale’s back. In his eyes, Cale’s red hair looked white. The Guardian Knight hadn’t forgotten about the legend.
He recalled the voice of the necromancer who’d created his explosive limbs. She’d delivered her words in a monotone, her inflection so cold that he questioned whether she was really human.
“Do not get in Lord Cale’s way.”
In that moment, Mary actually spoke with far more emotion than usual, but it was so subtle that only those close to her would’ve picked up on it. Mary had told Clope how she felt about Cale in that mechanical way of hers.
“He is an amazing person.”
She felt grateful toward Cale. He was both pitiable and virtuous, always exerting himself for others. An innocent young woman, she continued praising him in a naive manner.
“He sees everything.”
Cale meticulously addressed the pains of everyone in his circle, and he always did so in a gentle way, despite his pretense of indifference. His heart seemed to be as big as a mountain. He had healed Mary’s pain in the same way.
But her pronouncement sounded different to Clope. When she said Cale “saw everything,” Clope felt as if his mind had cleared.
So he really does know everything. That’s why he appeared before me.
The image of Cale’s red hair bleeding to white lingered in his mind. Clope thought about the legend—the real legend, not the one House Seca had fabricated.
God’s Tears. The god of the lake had disappeared to the south.
This was the truth.
Then that god who went south…
As Clope’s heart hammered in his chest, the voice that had banished the mist from his mind reached him once again. Mary’s voice was the only thing he could hear inside the dungeon.
“He never strays from the right path, and his actions are always just.”
Clope realized something. That’s why it had to happen this way. In the end, the world moves according to his will.
Mary had merely praised Cale for preparing for the war in advance and doing what he could to protect everyone, but Clope interpreted that compliment differently—in fact, he misunderstood it to an outrageous extent.
Cale knew nothing of this as he straightened up atop the iceberg. “Let’s go.”
Splash!
As rough waves disrupted the winter sea, the water under the iceberg appeared darker than usual.
The whales’ time had come.
These giant creatures stalked ever closer to Faern’s shores.
***
“Ugh, why is it so chilly today?”
“It’s too cold.”
On Faern’s northern coast, a soldier at the central patrol station handed the grumbling communication mage a cup of hot tea. The mage took a sip, then pushed the cup off to the side.
“Ahh, much better. Why do we need to guard this place, anyway? Nobody’s going to invade from this direction.”
“I agree. There’s no way one of the southern kingdoms would be able to break through the ice here.”
While the south might have been embroiled in war, this northern patrol station needn’t worry about that. Who could possibly invade through here?
The mage reclined on the chair and peered out the window at the ocean beyond. He could see the water rippling quite a ways out, but the area near the patrol station was completely frozen. This was a completely inaccessible point of entry; who would target it?
“Is the next check-in in an hour?”
“Yes, sir.”
“This damn life.” The mage sighed at his unfortunate situation, forced to while away the hours without the chance to distinguish himself. Still, he had to carry out his duty; they were in a time of war, and the central region’s army was checking in on them more frequently than ever.
The central forces included House Seca’s current head, Duke Rok Seca, who served as their leader. He prioritized information and security to such an extent that he set up his office as the communications center for the communication mages to use.
Yet another sigh slipped past the mage’s lips. “We can’t make a generic report with the duke listening in.” Since the duke would be present, giving a half-hearted report wasn’t an option.
“Right? The only thing worth reporting would be if the Whale Tribe came to attack.”
“Ha!” The mage scoffed at the soldier’s comment. “The Whale Tribe? You’re talking about a group nobody’s heard from for ages. Why would a quiet tribe like them come to invade us? That would never happen—we haven’t done anything to offend them.”
The soldier nodded awkwardly. “That’s true. I thought so myself after I said it.”
Even he figured something so improbable would never come to pass. The soldier had grown up by the shore, hearing tales about the Whale Tribe from his grandfather, but the whales were little more than mysterious figures from folklore.
Just then, the soldier took another look out the window. “Hm?” He froze. “Um, s-sir?”
“What is it?” the tea-drinking mage asked, disgruntled, but the soldier’s gaze didn’t stray from the window. “I said, what is it?”
“Uh, what’s that in the ocean?”
The soldier was pointing to something in the distance. Annoyed, the mage looked out the window himself. Across the way, water sprayed into the air. The gray waters of the sea had gone pitch black.
He also saw waves… No, not waves. A horde of enormous creatures was surging across the watery expanse—and headed their way.
“Huh?” the mage blurted out.
“Wh-whales!” the soldier screeched as it dawned on him. “Sir, they’re wha—”
Boooom!
Tremors rocked the patrol station, cutting him off. An unknown force was slamming into the ice from below.
Boom, boom!
“Wh-wh-what?” The mage took an instinctive step backward.
Bang! Bang!
With each heavy impact, more cracks appeared on the ice. Something was ascending from the briny depths, concealed beneath the frozen sea.
The soldier grabbed the mage and shouted in his ear, “Whales! It’s the Whale Tribe!”
Baaang!
No sooner had he spoken than a bang louder than any before cracked through the air, and the sheet of ice covering the water shattered. As the frozen layer crumbled away, a massive whale appeared: a humpback whale with an X-shaped scar on its back. This giant creature’s body breached the surface.
The soldier and the mage locked eyes with the humpback whale, pinned in place by its frigid gaze. Then the humpback whale’s enormous tail moved.
Looking as if it could pummel the very heavens, that tail slammed down and shattered the remaining ice into pieces.
Boooom!
So it began. The whales surrounded the patrol stations and proceeded to pulverize the sheet of ice atop the water. Their berserk and brutal strength—powerful enough to conquer the natural formations around them—was overwhelming.
“This is…! How did they…?!”
“Sir, we need to send a message right away! We must let the others know that the whales have invaded!” the soldier insisted, and the mage finally snapped back to his senses.
This was a whale invasion. The Whale Tribe, once known as the ocean’s rulers, were ravaging the very sea they commanded. These bygone beings struck fear into the mage’s heart. His hand shook uncontrollably as he groped for the communication sphere.
Baaang!
As another loud noise battered their ears, the soldier reported on the situation. “It’s the eastern patrol station! The eastern patrol station has been destroyed!”
The mage looked up while pouring mana into the device, witnessing the destruction of the eastern patrol station with his own eyes. At the same time, he noticed vapor rising around the humpback whale with the X-shaped scar.
Then, once the vapor dissipated…
Thwack!
That humpback whale appeared in her human form, flicking a long whip made of water. The weapon lashed about, fracturing the ice. She made a beeline for the central patrol station, using those broken pieces as stepping stones.
Though she was far away, the mage knew one thing for sure: That whale is looking at me.
Terror sank its claws into his body.
Crackle, crackle. That was the sound of the communication sphere connecting. The mage quickly dipped his head and peered into the screen.
The voice of his superior, the central forces’ communication mage, came through on the other end. “It’s not time to check in. What’s the matter?”
“It’s the Whale Tribe! The Whale Tribe has invaded!”
“What are you talking about?!” The unexpected report made his superior question whether he’d heard correctly.
“The Whale Tribe is here! They’re razing the shores!” The mage clenched the communication device in a white-knuckled grip, petrified at the thought that he might die.
As his despairing voice sent the communications center into chaos, someone else spoke up. “Explain.”
Duke Rok Seca—Clope Seca’s father and the person known throughout Faern as the current Guardian Knight—appeared on the surface of the sphere.
At the sight of his face, the mage babbled in even more of a rush. “The Whale Tribe has invaded, and they’re wrecking the ice!”
The mage turned the screen toward the ocean, providing a view of the decimated patrol stations, the stations under active assault, and the carnage that made up the sea.
“When did the attack start? What’s the current situation?” Rok remained composed despite the intensity in his voice; his example helped the mage calm down.
“The attack started five minutes ago. The eastern patrol station is wiped out, and the others are under attack as well. As for our central patrol station—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
“Huh?”
He’d noticed something strange outside his window.
Where did the whale go?
What had happened to the advancing whale? He couldn’t see her anywhere.
“What is it? Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Ah… Uhh… I-I…”
The mage couldn’t form coherent words. He’d just realized something else: the soldier. The soldier at his side had fallen silent. Why is he so quiet?
With a thud, the soldier collapsed at the mage’s feet. He had no visible injuries, so he must have fainted.
Slowly, the mage turned around…and came face-to-face with one of the Whale Tribe.
He had seen a blue-haired beastfolk woman charging toward their patrol station. While this beastfolk’s blue locks resembled hers, he was unmistakably a man. The mage was powerless even as he watched the whale’s hand sweep toward his back.
Thwump. The half-blood whale, Faseton, effortlessly knocked the mage unconscious.The communication sphere clattered to the floor.
“What’s going on?! Are you unable to make a report?!”
As the duke cried out through the device, it was picked up by none other than Cale Henituse.
Cale then passed the sphere to someone else. “Here.”
Clope accepted the item from Cale with shaky hands. While the screen trembled, Rok kept on shouting, “Communication mage! Are you unable to continue the video? How many whales are there?!”
His voice was hoarse with urgency, but on the other side of the call, Cale was the picture of serenity.
“You remember my order?” Cale asked, and Clope’s eyes wavered.
Cale had instructed Clope to turn Faern into a spy for his allies. He pushed down on Clope’s shoulder and pointed at the communication sphere—a silent reminder to obey his command.
He’ll do it if he doesn’t want to die.
Cale waited, certain Clope would prioritize his own life above all else. Hands still trembling, Clope turned the screen toward his face.
“What is going on—huh?”
Rok faltered, tongue-tied, as a head of snow-white hair appeared in the sphere—hair the same color as his own.
“S-son…”
Clope had been recorded as “missing in action” after the battle with Rowoon a few days ago. Although the duke barely knew what was happening out there on the coast, he was from a long line of wily folk. Without taking his eyes off his son, Rok raised a hand and signaled to the mages in the communications center with him.
Security level one.
The mages sprang into action. Rok didn’t spare them a glance.
It was then that someone else popped up on-screen. “Hello there.”
“Y-you’re…!”
Rok recognized him right away. The redhead on the other side of the call was the very same man who’d foiled their plan to conquer Rowoon: Cale Henituse himself.
Cale smiled brightly, his hand resting on Clope’s shoulder.
The duke could hardly believe his eyes. What the hell was going on? Why were his son and Cale Henituse at the northern border, along with the Whale Tribe?
“Father.”
Rok’s vision blurred. His son, Clope, was beaming.
Cale watched quietly from Clope’s side. Clope would carry out Cale’s will in order to ensure his own survival. As long as Rowoon appeared stronger than the Indomitable Alliance, he would stick with Cale to keep his family safe.
He reminded himself as much as he gazed upon Clope, who abruptly declared, “I’ve met God.”
Cale flinched. Huh?!
“This esteemed individual is a deity,” Clope added in a cheerful voice.
What the hell? Cale stared at him in genuine disbelief.
As Clope continued, he had the look of a man who’d achieved his lifelong dream. “I’ve escorted the legend here, Father.”
Cale was at a loss for words. Is he actually out of his mind?
‹Jeez, he really has lost it,› Raon said, sounding exasperated.
Cale gave no response. He saw the odd way Faseton was looking at him, as well as Witira’s and Archie’s stiff strides as they entered the patrol station, but he couldn’t show any reaction to Clope’s words.
The killer whale Archie looked especially flabbergasted. “What the…?! What did you do this ti—” His eyes snapped to Clope, and he scrambled to pivot into a compliment. “I mean, wow, you’re incredible, sir!”
Yet when he heard what Clope said next, the killer whale couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping.
“This esteemed individual speaks nothing but the truth, and he knows everything. We can go down the right path if we follow him.”
While Archie couldn’t believe the way Clope was praising Cale, the thing that shocked him even more was the reality behind those words.
It’s true.
Clope’s assessment held water, despite coming from an odd point of view. Cale always had been a step ahead of everyone else when it came to doing the right thing.
“I suppose he’s right,” said Witira, her lips curving into an amused smile.
When Archie saw her nodding along, he shut his mouth. What a terrifying human.
Certain that Cale was more intimidating than the Whale King, who had beaten Archie to a pulp, the killer whale feigned disinterest—though his eyes still flitted about restlessly.
Only one person couldn’t ignore the matter at hand.
“Wh-what did you say…?” Rok, the Guardian Knight’s father and head of House Seca, failed to comprehend the events playing out before him.
God? A legend?!
While Rok knew of his son’s persistent obsession with legends, Clope had always wanted to become a living legend himself; he never dreamed of serving someone else. The duke fixed his eyes on Cale.
The surprise Cale had briefly shown toward Clope only lasted a few moments. Schooling his expression, he began to formulate a new idea. Interesting…
In contrast to the quicksilver spinning of Cale’s mind, the duke’s bewildered voice filled the patrol station.
“Captain Clope Seca, what manner of nonsense are you spouting?!”
The duke invoked Clope’s rank in an effort to bring him back to his senses. Cale wanted to applaud the man for hanging on to his composure; Clope’s declaration had stunned even Cale himself, so how dumbfounded must the duke have been? His mind was probably locked in a complicated tangle, wondering if his son had gone crazy or if he was being threatened.
Do I need to step in?
Right as Cale considered taking over to steer this in the right direction, Clope spoke again. “Your Grace,” he said, sounding utterly rational, “it’s only three days.”
Clope had determined that Cale was a legendary figure through a lucid chain of reasoning. He had simulated countless scenarios in his head while in the dungeon, and the innocent necromancer had told him how her allies had achieved an overwhelming victory at sea. This had allowed him to reach his own conclusions.
“Three days, you say?” the duke replied, sending various signals to the mages.
Their conversation couldn’t leave this room, let alone get back to the Indomitable Alliance.
Ever since Clope was captured and the Arm agent controlling the wyverns disappeared, Faern’s influence in the alliance had been on the decline. The Bear Tribe and the dwarves had more sway than Faern, to say nothing of Norland and Askosan, each of which commanded a navy.
The duke felt a headache coming on. Why is Rowoon invading at a time like this?! Things were not going well. It was fortunate that Faern boasted more soldiers and knights than most; otherwise, their position would have been even more tenuous.
He sucked in a breath, prepared to heave a sigh.
“Yes, just three days,” Clope cut in. “That’s how long it will take Rowoon to seize Faern’s capital.”
Cale and Rok flinched in unison. Brimming with confidence, Clope began to talk about the forces destined to become legends.
“With the Whale Tribe added to the mix, they could dismantle the entire kingdom in mere hours if they really wanted to.” Clope spoke slowly, but with conviction. “This illustrious being commands forces sufficient to decimate the remaining wyverns. He has the strength to eliminate three hundred ships at once. And although they may have been the weakest of the lot, he also captured three of Arm’s Red Stars.”
Clope had thought matters through and reached a judgment beyond doubt. He still believed himself perfectly sane.
“He has a swordmaster, a necromancer, and many skilled combatants at his disposal. Others who protect this illustrious being are about as powerful as the Whale Tribe.”
Clope hadn’t gone crazy; he was simply moving in the best direction to preserve his own life. Clope was an aura-wielding swordmaster in his own right. He too had devoted hours to reach the apex of the way of the sword. He had started this war to transform himself into a legend.
That was why he could see it.
“Father—no, Your Grace—I wish to live,” Clope said, then expressed the undeniable truth he had foreseen. “The Indomitable Alliance will not be able to take any of the southern lands.”
Rok saw certainty in his son’s gaze. Clope’s eyes, initially vacant and lifeless, now sparkled. These were the eyes of the Seca family—the eyes of the white snake that never missed the chance to slither its way to survival. That white snake wanted to follow the legend, even if that meant riding its coattails.
Clope allowed Cale to witness the open enthusiasm on his face. “If we’re to make it through this, we must submit to this great being. Then we will at least be able to follow in the footsteps of a legend.”
Henituse territory was nothing but a tiny county in an average kingdom, yet Cale—a person born in this backwater area—would overturn the fate of the entire Western Continent. Wasn’t that the perfect beginning to a story fit to stand alongside the heroic legends of old?
Clope addressed his father and the kingdom he represented. “We must survive.”
To preserve their own existence, they could cast the Indomitable Alliance aside like a snake shedding its skin.
Rok gulped in spite of himself. His son had accepted Arm’s help, claiming he would become a swordmaster and bring a legend to life. Though Arm was now the center of the alliance, the original allies had come together around Clope himself.
The look in his son’s eyes was even more determined than when Clope had told the alliance they should target the southern lands. A nebulous uncertainty seeped into the duke’s already muddled mind.
Having stood beside Clope all the while, Cale looked at Rok. “Now then,” he said, tone authoritative. “I shall teach you how to survive.” He patted the resolute Clope on the shoulder. “Faern won’t collapse, and you will remain the strongest power in the Western Continent’s northern region after the war.”
His assurance seemed to defy logic. Rok latched onto the idea that Faern would maintain its position in the north. “How is that possible? What are you—”
“If you want to hear more…”
The duke’s mouth fell open at Cale’s interruption. Cale didn’t bat an eye at speaking this way to a duke; his attitude was entirely businesslike.
“Meet me here. I don’t enjoy chatting on my feet.”
Cale was telling the duke to come to him, but it was more of a threat than a request. As Rok took note of the destroyed patrol stations in the window behind Cale, the redhead’s relaxed voice reached his ears again.
“Oh! By the way, if more than five people show up, we’ll take that as a declaration of war and commence our attack immediately. The Whale Tribe will probably flatten the entire coastline.”
Cale wore a gentle smile as he said so. He raised a hand, looking more the indifferent aristocrat than ever before.
“Since you’re able to teleport,” Cale said, splaying his five fingers, “you have five minutes.”
The duke had to bring a group no larger than five to meet Cale within the next five minutes. This was Cale’s way of saying he wouldn’t allow Rok any time to think.
From the duke’s perspective, Cale was more like the devil than a god.
“Let the alliance know if you want,” the devil went on. “Nothing will change for Faern or House Seca either way. Though if you do that, I’ll consider it a rejection of our offer.”
He spoke the truth. The Indomitable Alliance was heading south; would they turn back to help Faern, a kingdom which had neither wyverns nor a swordmaster any longer?
One last time, Cale’s voice rang in the duke’s ears. “That’s one minute gone.”
Then he ended the call.
The duke squeezed his eyes shut, then reopened them. “Get a move on!”
***
The door to the old communication room in the central patrol station opened with a creak.
“Welcome,” Cale told the duke, who stood frozen in the doorway.
With his subordinates behind him, Rok assessed the situation beyond the open door. Cale sat in a chair with his legs crossed, drinking tea. The duke also spotted his son, seated in a wheelchair and sipping from another teacup, as well as people he presumed were the whales.
Before he was a noble, Rok was a father; he blurted out his son’s name before he knew it. “Clope!”
Yet the one to respond to his call was Cale. “I’ll forge a new legend for Faern, as your son desired.”
The duke stiffened. Clope’s demeanor shifted as well, the teacup quivering in his hand. Taking stock of his son’s reaction, Rok shifted his full attention to Cale.
“Three things,” Cale said, smiling. “I’m going to make three requests of you. I’ll also tell you three truths.”
With that, their conversation—and their transaction—began.
Cale outlined his proposal for the duke, sharing his three conditions and then the three truths tied to those conditions. It didn’t take him long to say his piece: only one hour. Although that was time enough for the tea in their cups to cool, it seemed to pass in a blink. In that brief interlude, Cale and Rok completed their discussion.
Cale ended the conversation by rising from his seat. “You have one week to prepare.”
Without another word, he turned away from Rok.
“One week,” the duke muttered.
One week. Although he’d been given a grace period, some of the Whale Tribe beastfolk and the true whales lingered along the coastline. Cale’s verdict in a week’s time would determine their next move.
Rok looked at the whales lurking in the sea, who glared viciously at him. He wouldn’t be leaving the central patrol station anytime soon.
***
As Cale exited the station, Raon blasted him with questions. “Weak human! Why’d you give him time to prepare? Is something going to happen this week?”
Cale lay down on Archie’s back. “A little chaos in the world, that’s all.”
Chaos was an understatement. How floored would the populace be once the dark elves revealed themselves for the first time in centuries?
Cale pictured it in his mind’s eye, but someone else understood his words a bit differently. The killer whale began to sweat, his back twitching.
“Ooh, gotcha!” Raon responded. Paying the whale no mind, the black dragon curled up beside Cale without a care.
Archie swam faster than he had in his entire whale life.
***
“Human! We got a call from the crown prince!”
Raon zoomed over to Cale, a blinking-red communication sphere gripped in his forepaws. Only the cats, Raon, and Ron accompanied Cale in his bedroom.
“Connect me to him.”
Once he’d done so, Raon joined Ohn and Hong in a corner of the room. All the children had sauce dotting the corners of their mouths.
The device connected with a flash, and Albert’s handsome face appeared. “Lord Cale Henituse, the star of our kingdom… Are you eating meat?”
“That I am, Your Highness.”
Cale nodded, popping a bite of steak into his mouth while Ron poured him a glass of red wine. He accepted the glass and took a sip.
“Forgive me. I’ve just returned from Faern, so I’m hungry—that’s why I’m eating right now. I apologize for picking up your call like this.”
Cale rattled off whatever came to mind, thinking little of it as he stabbed another piece of steak with his fork. Although Albert might make a snide comment, he wasn’t one to complain about Cale eating during the call. If anything, he would probably drop an obligatory “You little bastard” or “It’s always something with you” before getting down to business.
However, Cale sensed something off about Albert this time. Holding his forkful of meat, he peered into the communication sphere.
“Mm.” The crown prince grinned from ear to ear. “Of course you should eat when the need arises. We can’t have our Lord Cale going hungry!”
Now that’s weird. Cale was taken aback. What was wrong with the prince?
“Goodness, but is only one plate of steak enough? Even an ornate table filled with gourmet dishes wouldn’t be adequate to serve our Lord Cale!”
How suave the crown prince’s tongue was, Cale reflected. Just like a snake.
Cale’s brow furrowed as he made sense of his earlier inkling. The change in his expression briefly caught Albert off guard, but the prince’s dazzling smile never faded.
“That’s it,” he said, “I should treat our Lord Cale to a decadent meal—no, to the most glorious feast the royal kitchen can produce! Don’t you agree? Steak and wine are hardly suitable!”
“…Do I need to go to the capital?” Cale asked bluntly.
Seeing that Cale understood what he needed, as usual, the crown prince switched off his incandescent simper and continued with his customary expression in place. “I called to discuss something with you.”
Mindful that Cale was his partner in this war, Albert delivered accurate intelligence about events in the capital. He thought that was the respectful thing to do between mutual partners.
“Karo did end up seeking help, both from us and from the Mogor Empire. It seems they got nervous after hearing about the Indomitable Alliance’s fleet.”
Cale had anticipated this news, but the crown prince’s poised manner told him there was more to it.
“And this problem is difficult for the crown to handle on its own,” Albert continued.
Rowoon was still at war; it would be difficult to defend their own kingdom while also supporting Karo. A single misstep could prompt nobles to spread rumors among the populace that Rowoon had thrown away its own people to reap the benefits of aiding foreign powers.
Cale took another sip of wine. His face took on a rosy hue. “Are the nobles against helping Karo?”
“There are always dissenters, but Lord Ailan swayed them.”
Marquess Ailan’s family was known as Rowoon’s greatest martial arts household.
A feeling of unease came over Cale as the crown prince continued in a genial tone. “He says he wishes to hear your opinion. Lord Ailan’s faction and the central nobles want to officially convene a council of high nobles to learn where you stand. They said it would only be fair to listen to the thoughts of the northeastern regional commander who’s been protecting our kingdom.”
House Henituse in the northeast; House Sten, headed by Marquess Sten’s formerly displaced firstborn son, Taylor Sten, in the northwest; and House Guiller, which guarded the southwestern region’s border with the Mogor Empire under Lord Antonio.
Aside from these three, there were noble powerhouses in the southeastern and central regions. Those nobles wanted confirmation that Rowoon could safely assist Karo while maintaining its own security. They didn’t want to hear this from the crown prince but from the person who had achieved victory in the war.
Cale massaged his temples. He had expected this development, so he’d prepared documents in advance and was ready to engage in a video call at any time. Unfortunately for him, the nobles’ request wasn’t so innocent. Whether the impulse stemmed from wariness or from goodwill, some of them wanted to see this rising power with their own eyes. These were the actions of people who didn’t want to let one scrap of influence slip through their fingers, even in the midst of a war.
“This is just a farce concocted by the southeastern and the central regions,” Cale said slowly.
“Correct.”
“But they aren’t wrong.”
“Still, it’s annoying.”
Cale had a clear view of the prince’s face; he sensed the irritation beneath Albert’s otherwise calm facade.
Albert wouldn’t have been so vexed if the nobles had requested Cale’s presence out of genuine concern for Rowoon. In some aspects, it made sense for them to seek the opinion of the northeastern region’s military commander. But this summons reflected a larger power struggle, and their intentions were far from pure.
Cale tapped his finger on the table.
“They also want the swordmaster and the necromancer to accompany you,” Albert said. “To acknowledge their contributions, or so they claim.”
Cale’s tapping stopped. The nobles probably didn’t have wholesome motives for wanting to see Choi Han and Mary either; that was the real reason the crown prince had called Cale.
“I’ll take care of that, though, so don’t worry about it. You can ignore all the useless calls from the central region.”
“It’s fine.”
Albert paused, then flashed Cale a grin. The look on Cale’s face told him everything he needed to know. “You take surprisingly good care of your subordinates.”
Cale’s visible aggravation had transformed into something else, and now there was an icy glint in his eye.
“The citizens of the capital wish to see you as well,” Albert went on. “The most popular weapon on sale in Whis right now is apparently the shield.”
Cale sighed deeply, but that sigh soon morphed into a smile. “I guess I need to cause a ruckus at the capital first.”
It was time to show the citizens a new hero.
“The capital, eh?” The crown prince scrutinized Cale, who had chosen his destination. “You’re going to throw the entire kingdom into chaos.”
Albert had voiced his prediction, but he didn’t know whether that chaos would take the form of fanatical cheers or mass hysteria.
Chapter 46: Now Do You Get It?
Chapter 46:
Now Do You Get It?
THE DAY AFTER his chat with the crown prince, Cale summoned a group of people in the commander’s headquarters. He took hold of the doorknob, and the door opened with a muted sound, giving him a clear view of the room.
“Commander, you’re here.”
Everyone sitting at the long, oval table stood to welcome him at once. Countess Poplina Uvar was in attendance with her daughter, Amir, who was responsible for communications and record-keeping. The knight captain of the first royal knight brigade was there, as was Tasha, the mage captain stand-in. A number of officers from the northeastern region’s navy were also present.
Cale nodded at them, walking toward the head of the table. They dipped their heads in response, wearing grim expressions all around.
“Commander, have you eaten?”
“Did you get to eat, Commander?”
What the…? Cale found it bizarre to be asked about his meals first thing, especially with how serious they were about it. Why do they care so much about my diet?
Or was this kind of greeting in vogue these days?
Cale offered them a lazy nod and sat down at the table. As soon as he settled into his chair, the countess piped up, “Will you be going to the capital, Commander?”
The question plunged the room into a sullen mood. That morning, they had received a message at the naval base relaying that Commander Cale Henituse’s presence was requested at the council of high nobles. The base had been buzzing ever since.
“Yes, I am.”
Cale’s resolute response temporarily quelled their protests. Their commander was a profoundly sharp individual; they didn’t know how to refute a decision made by someone on his level.
Tasha yanked her hood low to hide her scowl. These damned nobles—
“These rotten noble bastards never change.”
Tasha nearly gasped, whipping her head toward the knight captain. The stoic man sat there with an indifferent expression on his face, as if he hadn’t breathed a word. When he noticed that everyone’s eyes had fallen on him, however, he added stiffly, “Ah, of course, proper nobles are exceptions. I’m talking about the noble bastards who like to engage in power struggles.”
Wow. Tasha was impressed. He’d taken the words right out of her mouth. His bold remark suggested that he considered everyone here—especially Cale—to be his ally.
The knight captain pressed his lips together, content to move past it. But now that he had opened up the floodgates, other people started chiming in.
“The war isn’t over, and the navy is still dealing with the cleanup. How can they order our commander to come and go as they please?!”
“These fools with no comprehension of the cruelty and horror of war want to sit there and boss him around!”
“They’re probably trying to suppress you, Commander! And they’re not just calling you, sir! They’re summoning Choi Han and the necromancer as well! This is—”
Cale smacked the tabletop. The person who’d been fuming looked over at Cale, then shut his mouth.
“That’s why I’m going.”
As Cale’s calm voice washed over the attendees, they opted to stay quiet. He showed no signs of anger, annoyance, or any emotion at all, but that would-be apathy made his intentions clear to them.
“They won’t be summoning anyone from our base in the future,” he told them.
“Anyone from our base,” he said. Amir paused in her record-keeping duties for a moment before her hand quickly resumed taking notes. She knew why Cale was obediently going to the capital this time. It wasn’t because he was angry at the nobles or because he feared their suppression.
At first, she and the others had suspected that the nobles would feel free to call upon people from the naval base whenever they pleased. It could even be the first step in a pattern of such orders. The northeastern region’s nobles wouldn’t be as affected, but those with lesser titles were bound to be dragged left and right. It was highly likely that they would be used as bait in a tumultuous scuffle for power.
Their commander’s confident assertion had dispelled those concerns in a flash.
“And of course, I’ll return with sufficient rewards for our contribution,” Cale added.
Amir clenched the pen in her hand. This man truly was always a step ahead of everyone else; he never ceased to amaze people. With an admiring sigh, she resumed writing—only to stop and look up a moment later.
“While I did gather you all here to let you know I’m going to the capital, there is another reason.”
Cale wouldn’t have called this meeting on a whim. His ability to teleport enabled him to get from place to place easily, but it would be difficult for him to spend all his time at the naval base in the coming days.
“While I’m gone,” he said, making eye contact with each and every one of them, “I trust that Rowoon’s shores will be safe.”
Silence enveloped the room.
“Well?” prompted the only person who’d been talking.
Amir opened her mouth to respond, but someone else beat her to it.
“You can trust us,” the knight captain declared.
Only then did Cale grace them with a warm smile. “Good.”
They’re more than equipped to take care of things, Cale thought. I can leave for the capital with peace of mind.
His lips quirked up as he reflected that he had one less item of baggage to carry with him. The others did not smile back at him, as each was steeling their own resolve. One thought dominated all their minds:
They would protect this place until their commander returned.
Cale had no clue that his words had inspired them to this extent. As there was nothing further to consider, he called the meeting to a close.
“Let’s end this meeting here, then. Since there wasn’t much to discuss, I feel like I wasted your time.”
Even so, this meeting was one that the attendees would never forget.
Cale watched everyone bow and take their leave before plopping down on a couch in the office to wait for new arrivals.
A bit later, the door slowly opened and two people stepped inside: Choi Han and Mary. They would be accompanying him this time, so it was important to keep them in the loop.
Cale pointed to the couch across from him. “Have a seat.”
“Did you eat, Mr. Cale?”
I guess it really is a fad to ask that these days…
Cale kept his response casual. “No, not yet.”
A mechanical voice chimed in, “Lord Cale, you must eat to preserve your health. The only time you won’t require sustenance will be when you are dead.”
Why would she say something so ominous? Cale nodded impassively to the necromance in her black robe; only then did Mary settle down.
A certain anecdote was running rampant throughout the naval base right now. A loud-mouthed communication mage, overflowing with admiration, had shared Cale’s comment regarding the soldiers’ meals with everyone who would listen. Cale himself had no way of knowing about this, so he brushed aside what he assumed was a trendy new way to say hello and tried to get to the point—but Choi Han was faster.
“I hear you’re going to the capital, Mr. Cale. Us too.”
When Cale nodded, Choi Han swallowed hard. Amir and the knight captain had explained the reason for the trip. The knight captain had grown a bit closer to Choi Han thanks to their shared love of the sword.
“Those noble bastards probably plan to make the commander stand in the center of the council meeting while they do everything they can to drag him to the ground,” he had told Choi Han, stone-faced. “Scumbags like them have nothing but their titles, and they get a kick out of grilling people in packs. They do the same thing when I report in about the knight brigade at the end of every year, trying to make me submit.”
When they heard this, Choi Han and Mary had imagined Cale surrounded by people, undergoing interrogation.
“I heard you and Miss Mary are going along, so you’ll face them together. It’ll be tough, but just let it go in one ear and out the other.”
Back in the present, Choi Han mused on the knight captain’s advice. “Will we be standing before the nobles with you? How should we act in that situation?”
Mary clenched her fists beneath her robe, peering at Cale as the two of them waited for his response.
“Where did you get that idea?” Cale asked.
“…Pardon?”
Cale squinted at Choi Han as if to ask what on earth he was talking about, while Choi Han blinked back at Cale in befuddlement.
It’d be awkward if I had the two of them with me, Cale thought, his brow creasing.
He was working a scheme with the crown prince; how could a terrible actor like Choi Han and an innocent soul like Mary possibly play along? Perhaps Vicross or Ron might’ve been of some use, but these two were more likely to get in the way.
“No need for you two to join me. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Yes, yes indeed. Cale would be more than sufficient, especially since the crown prince would also be present—not to mention plenty of people in the meeting whom they could put to use.
When the pair stayed quiet, Cale went on, “Ah, there may be times in the future when you’ll need to appear in front of the citizens for parades and whatnot. Those are the sorts of places you belong.”
They’re going to be heroes, after all.
He planned to arrange for Choi Han and Mary to be seen in public; that way, they could replace him in the people’s minds and become true heroes. As Cale imagined everyone forgetting about him, a smile stole onto his face.
Choi Han’s voice interrupted his reverie. “Are you saying you only want us to stand in front of cheering crowds?”
“Well, something like that. Just be aware that the cheering might be quite loud.”
Choi Han’s expression crumpled, while Mary clutched her sleeves. After a few false starts, Choi Han finally said, “We want to accompany you to the council of high nobles.”
“Please let us,” Mary added.
Although they asked, neither expected much. The Cale they knew was stubborn, a man who kept his word and never budged once he made up his mind to sacrifice himself for others.
“No.”
“Then I’ll wait for you outside the door,” Choi Han suggested.
“I want to do that as well.”
Cale agreed to it with an effortless nod. They would be fine at the entrance; they wouldn’t influence the goings-on from out there.
‹I’ll follow you inside, weak human.›
An invisible dragon wouldn’t be a problem either.
Cale answered all three of them at once: “Whatever you want.”
Their eyes sparkled, but Cale was completely disinterested.
As soon as he finished his preparations, he set out for the capital with Choi Han, Mary, and Raon in tow.
***
There was only one wooden building in the entire Kingdom of Rowoon: the hall for the council of high nobles. The hall was constructed with seats in a circle, divided into five sections. Four of these sections revolved around the leader of each faction:
House Orsena, of central Rowoon.
House Sten, of the northwest.
House Ailan, of the southeast.
House Guiller, of the southwest.
Marquess Xand Ailan, descendant of the greatest martial arts clan in Rowoon, was already present. He quietly looked down at the circular hall. It had been years since this many nobles attended the council.
A nobleman approached him. “Lord Ailan,” he said, voice dripping with scorn, “it appears Duchess Guiller has moved as well.”
The noble looked over at Sonata Guiller. The old duchess sat at the center of the southwestern faction, keeping her mouth closed. Although she had announced that she would hand the position over to her grandson, the transfer didn’t seem to have taken place yet.
“She claimed she’d let go of her authority after the slave trade was discovered, but she still showed up here to line her pockets.”
This was the reason for the noble’s disdain. Although it was kept under wraps, many nobles knew that one of House Guiller’s vassals had been involved in the slave trade. Thus, they had mocked the duchess’s cowardice when she declared her intention to close the duchy’s gates.
Nevertheless, Duchess Guiller had come to involve herself in central politics again.
“She wouldn’t give up this chance to earn another source of strength, huh?” a different noble piped up, joining the marquess’s conversation. “Her faction probably couldn’t sit still knowing this war would open the door for a new power to emerge. Look, even the new head of House Sten is here, even though he’s been lying low all this time.”
He pointed to a man who looked gentle and weak. Although Taylor Sten had once lost the position, he had returned to take control of the marquisate. He now sat in a section with his fellow nobles from the northwest.
“All the central faction’s nobles are here as well. It’s been a while.” With greed written all over his face, the noble whispered to Marquess Ailan, “We must take this opportunity to seize control of the northeast at all costs. We absolutely must bring that commander to heel, and we need to do it now, before his prestige grows even further.”
The noble kept a shrewd eye on Marquess Ailan’s expression as he spoke, feeling relieved when he found it as stoic as usual.
“It doesn’t look like anybody from the northeast is attending,” the marquess remarked.
With each of the other factions coming together, the lone unoccupied section in the circular room stuck out. Those empty seats belonged to the absent nobles of the northeastern region, none of whom had presented themselves at the council of high nobles.
Nevertheless, the noble speaking to the marquess was unfazed. “Don’t fret about that, Lord Ailan. I had a chance to speak with the northeastern nobles associated with our faction earlier today. They said they still wish to align themselves with us.” The corners of his lips twitched. “They should all arrive shortly. I’m sure they’ll take our side; they want to have a taste of power as well.”
Nobles lived for power.
“They’ll follow our lead if they want to enjoy long and peaceful lives even after the war. I’m certain of it.”
“Of course. Even if House Henituse looks strong right now, they’re a castle built on a mountain of sand. As a newly rising power, they lack a stable foundation. Why would anyone choose to tie their own fate to such a house?”
The nobles of Marquess Ailan’s faction continued their critiques until the marquess’s gaze shifted toward them for the first time. Impassive as ever, he asked, “Are you certain?”
“Excuse me…?”
At that very moment, the doors to the hall opened with a screech.
The noble turned his attention from the marquess to the door, his eyes flying wide open. “What?!”
The patter of overlapping footsteps echoed throughout the hall as a group of people strode inside, faces taut and resolute. They all followed in the wake of a single man: Deruth Henituse, count and leader of the Henituse family.
And filing in behind him was every single one of the northeastern nobles with the qualifications to attend.
“Hey, they’re here!”
“What in the world?!”
Some of the southeastern and central factions’ nobles watched them in shock. Hadn’t these same individuals bowed down before them only this morning?
The nobles from the northeast didn’t spare them or any other factions a glance, however. They simply proceeded into the hall with their gazes fixed straight ahead. In moments, they filled the gap among the other factions, occupying the last remaining section.
“Huh,” one of the nobles muttered, realization dawning. There was now a faction in the northeastern region as well, and House Henituse was at the center of it.
This noble was mistaken on one point, though: Deruth hadn’t established a faction of his own. He had no desire to lead a clique. The nobles of the northeast had gathered together at one person’s request—or rather, on one person’s command.
The new arrivals kept their eyes focused in front of them, not saying a single word. As whispers rippled through other nobles, a resounding voice put a swift end to the gossip.
The knight at the entrance had remained silent when the northeastern nobles entered the hall, but now he finally spoke. “Announcing the arrival of His Highness the Crown Prince, Albert Crossman!”
The nobles froze at this statement. One of the nobles next to Marquess Ailan blurted out, “But Cale Henituse isn’t even here yet!”
No noble could reasonably enter after the crown prince; the rules of etiquette forbade it.
“Ha! Now that they’ve established a faction in the northeastern region, they think they can do whatev—”
“No.”
The noble who had raised his voice snapped his head toward his leader, Marquess Ailan.
“Sir?”
“That’s not it,” the marquess said, his expression tense.
What did he mean? No sooner had that question occurred to the noble than the marquess turned his head, eyes locked on the door.
Creeaak.
The door opened as if in slow motion. All of the nobles stopped whispering and stood up—but in an instant, a new wave of murmuring ensued.
Albert Crossman, garbed in an outfit so exquisite that it put anything he’d ever worn to shame, asked the knight a question as he stepped through the door. “Why aren’t you introducing my close friend?”
The knight stood at attention and shouted once again. “Announcing the arrival of His Highness, Crown Prince Albert Crossman, accompanied by Northeastern Military Commander Cale Henituse!”
Two pairs of shoes clacked on the floor as a smiling Albert walked in with Cale Henituse beside him. Cale, clad in black to represent Rowoon’s northeastern navy, sauntered into the hall with an unreadable expression.
As Cale and Albert advanced in lockstep toward the same destination, the nobles gained a new understanding of Cale’s status. He could stand shoulder to shoulder with the next king of Rowoon.
Under the attendees’ rapt stares, the two of them came to a stop in the center of the hall. Each man painted a conspicuously different picture: Albert wore a resplendent gold-and-white outfit, whereas Cale Henituse’s black uniform accentuated his red hair.
The whispers gradually died down. Albert Crossman swept his gaze around the chamber, his smile widening. Crazy bastard…And this guy says he’s not interested in power? Cale Henituse had said he’d give everything up after the war—he’d even offered to swear on it.
He always exceeds my expectations.
Albert lightly clenched and relaxed his tingling hand.The aura emanating from Cale was making his palms prickle. Though he couldn’t see it, Albert could feel the oppressive air exuding from Cale; it had ensnared everyone in the hall.
He’s serious this time.
This man, who never sought attention and only ever asked for money, was revealing his true nature at long last. Albert couldn’t suppress his glee.
If he’s being serious, I should do the same.
For today, Albert would let his own act slip and play along with whatever Cale decided to do. Hardly a difficult task.
Elsewhere, someone was rattled by the situation: Marquess Ailan. He harrumphed under his breath, his gaze fixed not on the smiling crown prince but on Cale Henituse. The marquess, known for his perpetual stoicism, looked less than pleased.
Despite all the praise, I thought the Henituse boy was still wet behind the ears.
Clearly, the marquess had been wrong—in which case, who was Cale, really?
Marquess Ailan’s training as a martial artist made him more sensitive to a person’s aura than most. He believed that each individual’s aura reflected their life story, but the regal aura he perceived from Cale Henituse eclipsed even that of Albert Crossman—a man who had been groomed to rule since childhood. Based on Cale’s aura, the marquess got the sense Cale wouldn’t cower even in the face of Dragon’s Fear, known to be the strongest aura in the world.
I feel like I’m being dominated. The marquess’s keen intuition as a skilled warrior told him as much.
Cale would have applauded if he knew the marquess’s thoughts; having eaten his fill back at the palace, he was unleashing the Dominating Aura at its maximum potential.
As the marquess stared intently at Cale, unaware of the Ancient Power at play, Albert addressed the group. “It’s been a while since we had a gathering of this size.”
Albert was the king’s proxy, and his succession was all but guaranteed. As such, he no longer treated the nobles with deference. When Marquess Ailan saw the brilliant smile on the crown prince’s face, he rubbed his temples. The crown prince only smiled like this when he had the advantage.
The marquess had a deeply ominous feeling about it.
“I should take my seat,” Albert said, stepping forward. “But…” He stopped and turned around. “I don’t see a seat for our commander?”
There was no seat for Cale in the council chamber. This was a petty ploy carried out by House Orsena’s central faction. The nobles would sit, while the person under interrogation would be forced to stand. It was the opening move in this aristocratic power struggle.
“Ahem.”
Duke Granike Orsena didn’t hide his discomfort. He looked first at the crown prince, who declined to comment, then locked eyes with Cale Henituse—who was staring straight at him.
“I’m not usually fond of chatting on my feet, but…this isn’t too bad.” Cale’s gaze dragged over each person in the hall. When the nobles saw the glint in his eye, they understood the implication: He was looking down on them.
For the first time since Cale had entered the hall, a smile appeared on his face, as if he enjoyed looking down his nose at them.
One of the southeastern nobles met Cale’s eyes. As soon as Cale’s gaze left him, he blustered, “I-I heard you’re a reprobate! I see your personality hasn’t changed at all!”
“Shut your mouth.”
The noble whipped toward the leader of his faction. “Pardon?”
Marquess Ailan glared at the noble, a rare frown etched onto his features. “I told you to shut your mouth.”
“Erm, sir…?”
The marquess’s eyes slid elsewhere. “Can’t you see the northeastern nobles?”
“What?” The noble had never heard the marquess talk so much. Puzzled, he turned his attention to the group in question.
“Their eyes are glued to Cale Henituse.”
“Maybe they’re afraid?” Like me, the noble thought, but he didn’t say it aloud.
The marquess responded with a disbelieving scoff, as if to say the noble still knew so little of the world. When the noble cowered under his scrutiny, the marquess explained, “It isn’t fear but respect.”
“Excuse me?”
Marquess Ailan had realized that the northeastern region’s center of gravity was not Deruth Henituse but his son Cale. The northeastern nobles seemed to be bound by tighter threads than power or greed.
“It looks like we need to give up on the northeastern region,” the marquess said, slowly calming himself. “I’m just glad it’s limited to the northeast.”
It was extremely fortunate that only the northeastern region had banded together under Cale. Anyone with an air like his was bound to draw others in. Even if he didn’t do so deliberately, Cale would attract more and more people to his side.
If this incident hadn’t alerted Marquess Ailan to the situation, Cale might have gobbled up the entire kingdom before they knew it.
He’s either going to devour another faction or increase his influence. I’m certain of it.
The marquess was thankful that he was now aware of the danger; it gave him a chance to block Cale’s momentum before it reached the point of no return.
There was an issue with his line of thought, however.
“Let’s get started.” Albert opened the meeting in high spirits, his eyes on a noble sitting beside Duke Orsena.
That noble—a count responsible for moderating the proceedings—sprang to his feet on cue. He perused the agenda of items to discuss, then cleared his throat a few times. “Ahem… Respectfully, we cannot begin the meeting without everyone present.” Averting his gaze from the crown prince and his gentle smile, the count went on, “Commander Cale, why did you come alone? The invitation requested attendance from two others as well.”
The count snuck a peek at Duke Orsena, the leader of his faction, who urged him on with a nod. Having received the go-ahead from the stubborn duke, the count straightened his back and faced Cale.
Then he flinched.
How could someone be so…?
The count started sweating beneath Cale’s stare, feeling like an herbivore in a carnivore’s sights. There was little a human could do after taking a hit from the aura that even the killer whale Archie found difficult to handle.
Cale padded from the center of the hall toward the count, stopping once he drew close. The count avoided Cale’s gaze with a slight dip of his head. He’d done it on reflex to escape the suffocating sensation.
“Since you’ve averted your eyes,” came Cale’s voice, “I don’t know who I should respond to.”
The count bit his lip and raised his head, but his gaze shot back down in an instant.
At that moment, the chamber door cracked open with a quiet creak. Under the knights’ vigilant guardianship, the door remained exactly as it was, opened just a tiny sliver.
In his seat facing the entrance, the crown prince quirked an eyebrow. Cale’s companions, the swordmaster and the necromancer, had nudged the door ajar, hence the knights allowing them to touch it.
Albert was correct. Choi Han stood in front of the door, one hand resting on his scabbard as he leaned in to listen. Cale’s voice would reach them clearly this way.
Cale regarded the only other person standing: the count responsible for moderating the meeting. The count was still unable to meet Cale’s eyes.
“I asked to make the navy uniform black,” Cale began.
It was a seemingly random statement. Some of the nobles wondered about his intentions.
“That way, even if it gets stained with blood, no one will be able to tell.”
The nobles gasped. He observed them, his face devoid of emotion.
“The blood on the walls still hasn’t dried. The sea along the northeastern coast is still red from the carnage.”
From his position at the center, Cale’s voice resounded in the nobles’ ears. As they listened to the commander’s speech, they recalled the sight of the battle they had witnessed through their communication spheres. While watching the battle for Henituse territory, they hadn’t been able to hide their amazement and shock. But now, accompanied by the low timbre of the man who had been at the forefront, they pictured it quite differently.
“Who do you think that blood belongs to?”
Whose blood had been spilled? Cale asked that question, then answered it himself:
“The enemy.”
It clicked for the nobles that the man they’d summoned here wasn’t like them. He was no sheltered aristocrat blissfully ignorant of war. The true significance of his title—commander—seeped into their minds.
“It was the blood of Rowoon’s enemies. The northeastern region’s enemies. My enemies.”
Cale redirected the full force of his gaze toward the count.
“And the enemies of my people.”
My enemies—but more importantly, my people’s enemies. Those words pierced the count’s ears like nails. His hand clenched the copy of the meeting’s agenda, shaking.
Cale had given them a deliberate reminder—a warning not to touch the swordmaster or the necromancer.
As Marquess Ailan watched, the words that left his mouth sounded almost like a groan. “He’s like a tree.”
A sturdy tree, one firmly rooted in place that neither swayed nor bowed.
Cale Henituse truly was an upstanding hero, Marquess Ailan realized. The Plaza Terror Incident in the capital should have made that clear already. Relief swept through the marquess—relief that Cale wasn’t a schemer.
Cale, meanwhile, had no intention of abiding by the itinerary on the count’s agenda. He got to the point and directly broached the topic he’d been called here to discuss: whether they would send aid to Karo.
“Rowoon is strong,” he said. “Agree to Karo’s request.”
A noble near Duke Orsena protested, “That’s not—”
Cale ignored them, pivoting to the person with the highest vantage point in the room. “What do you think, Your Highness?”
Albert answered without hesitation. “Based on the report from the northeastern navy, Rowoon can provide support to Karo while still maintaining strong defenses in the northeast.”
As soon as he finished, some of the nobles close to Marquess Ailan and Duke Orsena leapt up from their seats, as if preparing to voice their objections. Despite their fear, these people would never let go of their wealth.
The crown prince, however, paid them no mind as he continued, “We also have a lot to gain from aiding Karo. If you consider the benefits, it’s worth the investment.”
“The northeast is one thing,” a noble hastened to say, “but the other regions don’t have the manpower to—”
As if he’d anticipated this response, the crown prince smoothly added, “The capital and the central region have the mage brigade, not to mention the royal knights as well.” His gaze slid to Marquess Ailan. “And the southeast has our kingdom’s strongest martial arts clan.”
The marquess winced. When a nobleman loyal to him noticed as much, he couldn’t keep silent. Avoiding Cale’s eyes, he shouted desperately, “But the west needs support! We must send the northeastern reserves to the west!”
Doing so would thin Cale’s forces in the northeast, placing them under the other nobles’ control. That wasn’t what Marquess Ailan wanted, of course; only the southwestern and northwestern regions would benefit from it. The original plan had been for the southeastern region to absorb the northeastern forces.
Nevertheless, this noble wanted to shift the momentum back toward the other aristocrats. Several of his companions bobbed their heads in agreement, as if his words reflected what they had intended all along.
They had no doubts that the southwestern and northwestern regions would burst into a fervor to claim the support for themselves. If those two factions kicked up a fuss, perhaps it’d be possible for the central and southeastern regions to reap some benefits as well—or so the nobles in question were thinking.
Just then, an elderly woman’s voice rose up in the hall for the first time that day. “The southwest has sufficient strength to defend the gate ourselves.”
It was the venerable Duchess Sonata.
Words resonating with sharp conviction, she continued, “The southwestern region does not require reinforcements, Your Highness.”
Damn it!
Marquess Ailan’s and Duke Orsena’s faces pinched simultaneously. The two of them had known Duchess Sonata for a long time; they could see in her eyes that the old woman had something up her sleeve. She meant everything she’d ever said, and she always kept her word.
The marquess’s frown deepened. He had assumed Duchess Sonata’s relationship with Cale was hostile. I heard he was the one who forced her to lock the gates. Aren’t they enemies?
Her declaration wasn’t the end of it; someone else spoke up as well. “The northwestern region is secure too.”
Despite his gentle appearance, Taylor Sten had earned a reputation as a tenacious and merciless man among his fellow nobles. He had avoided involving himself in central politics since taking control of House Sten, leading the nobles to believe that the northwestern region demanded his full attention—but that wasn’t the case. In truth, he had been lying low at Cale’s request and the crown prince’s command; they had kept him hidden with the intention of wielding him like a finely honed blade today.
Speaking in his capacity as the master of House Sten, which oversaw the northwestern region, Taylor made a second pronouncement: “I agree with the commander’s proposal.”
Only these two noble leaders spoke out among all those present from the western regions of Rowoon. Their countrymen simply sat there, still and silent as statues.
“Well then.”
“Lord Ailan…”
A different noble called his name, but Marquess Ailan had no attention to spare. His eyes flicked from Duchess Sonata Guiller to Marquess Taylor Sten. He took in their outfits and the clothing worn by the northeastern nobles.
They were all dressed in black—the same black supposedly selected by the northeastern navy to render any bloodstains invisible. This uniformity reflected their determination to dirty their clothes with blood right then and there. They had come to this place with every intention of defeating the enemy—their own foes and the foes of their allies—before returning home.
Marquess Ailan turned to observe the still-smiling crown prince. Albert wore a black dress shirt beneath his white coat.
The marquess’s gaze then drifted past the crown prince, stopping on Cale Henituse.
Cale was smirking at him.
He’d been hoodwinked! Cale was no hero. He was a man who understood power and domination.
“We are strong,” the crown prince declared.
We. It was clear to whom that word referred.
As the duke and the marquess looked on, Cale answered Albert with a smile. “That’s correct, Your Highness. We are strong. Strong enough to destroy anything that stands in our way.”
Such was the magnitude of their confidence.
The southeastern and central regions’ factions sensed something amiss. Fear snuck into the hearts of the nobles who weren’t part of this “we” they spoke of, consuming them from head to toe.
“A look back through history shows us that when war is over, it’s the common citizens who weep with thoughts of their survival and the days ahead,” Albert said. “Meanwhile, the remaining aristocrats jump headlong into the next power struggle.”
Sitting with his chin resting in his hand, the crown prince shifted his gaze toward the nobles of the southeastern and central regions, looking directly at the marquess and the duke in turn.
“People so easily fall prey to delusions. The war is far from over, but they still assume that they’ll survive. It’s laughable yet pitiful at the same time.”
Marquess Ailan avoided the crown prince’s pointed stare, closing his eyes. Deep wrinkles appeared on his face. He had believed he was laying a trap to suppress Cale Henituse, but that trap had achieved the opposite effect. Now the marquess found himself choked within his own snare.
He had been thoroughly outplayed.
The marquess opened his eyes once again, stealing a look around the hall. Why would the southwestern and northwestern regions side with the crown?
I understand Taylor Sten.
Rumors whispered that the eldest son of House Sten owed the full recovery of his legs to the crown prince. If true, that was reason enough for him to develop a bond with Albert. House Guiller, on the other hand, had opposed the crown prince.
Marquess Ailan locked eyes with Duchess Guiller. The venerable noble smirked at him before turning toward Cale Henituse.
That old hag!
Marquess Ailan gnawed on his lip. That old woman was supporting Cale, not the crown.
As the marquess heaved a deep sigh, he heard the crown prince speak again.
“If you want to live to see the end of this war, you’ll need to take action.” Albert then addressed Cale directly. “Isn’t that right, Commander?”
Cale nodded deeply. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Because most other people in the hall had been rendered speechless, it was as though the two of them were having an intimate chat.
“With that said, I don’t think there’s any reason for me to linger here. I’m finished with my report.”
Marquess Ailan flinched. He’s leaving? Already? He’s not going to stay to hear the final decision?
The marquess couldn’t comprehend why Cale would leave without learning the conclusion of the Karo debate. He searched Cale’s face for any hint to his thoughts, until Cale’s next words clarified things for him.
“The rest is up to the nobility. As I’m not a titled noble, I have no say in the matter.”
While Cale might have been a commander, he was still a young lordling who had yet to inherit his father’s title. Nevertheless, he seemed to look down on the gathered aristocrats even as he acknowledged that he lacked the qualifications.
Marquess Ailan grunted. Cale’s words contained both a warning and a threat, a reminder that he’d wait to see the decision they came to. The marquess could feel a headache coming on.
“Goodbye, all,” Cale said, utterly relaxed. “I’m off to keep on surviving.”
The nobles said nothing as the crown prince granted him permission to leave.
The Dominating Aura really is the best when it comes to scamming or scaring people, Cale thought, heading for the entrance at a leisurely pace. He walked with light steps, pleased that he’d managed to wrap up this annoying business earlier than he’d expected—though he kept that satisfaction well hidden.
‹I’ll remember the faces of the duke and that marquess.›
Raon’s mumblings nearly made Cale cringe, but he brushed it aside as he arrived at the entrance. Blithely, he pushed against the door—only for it to fly open with a grating creak and a bang.
Whoa.
Cale stuffed down a gasp. Choi Han and Mary were standing right on the other side of the door. While he had indeed told them to wait outside, he hadn’t expected to find them clustered at the threshold.
He took a moment to calm his heart before he swept into motion, his hands landing on their shoulders to give them each a pat. The last thing he wanted was for Choi Han to make another painfully wooden attempt at acting or for Mary to say something heartwarming in her GPS-like voice and ruin the mood.
“Let’s go,” Cale said, lifting his hands from their shoulders and striding forward without looking back.
This prevented him from seeing what the pair did next.
Back in the chamber, the marquess’s hand tightened around his armrest. “Ngh…”
Two people in black had been standing in front of the door when it opened for Cale Henituse. One was a man with black hair and black eyes, while the other wore a black robe that concealed their appearance. Those two were probably the aura-wielding swordmaster and the necromancer.
Seeing the two of them dressed in black as well sent chills skittering down Marquess Ailan’s spine.
As the marquess watched Cale Henituse depart without any regrets, the swordmaster and necromancer peered around the hall. The two did not immediately obey their commander’s order to leave, pausing to examine the interior first.
Mary’s black robe concealed her wary, curious gaze from the nobles’ sight. She took a brief look around before following Cale. The look in Choi Han’s eyes, however, was plain for everyone to see.
Choi Han looked only at those who had opposed Cale. Marquess Ailan, an expert martial artist of the highest grade, felt as if he couldn’t breathe when the swordmaster’s gaze bored into him.
“Are you coming or not?”
Cale had stopped walking and turned around to see what was going on. At the sound of Cale’s voice, Choi Han ceased his glaring, spun away from the nobles, and trotted after Cale without further delay.
“What were you doing?” Cale asked.
“Nothing, sir.”
Cale resumed walking as Choi Han approached. As the door slowly swung shut in their wake, Cale disappeared from view.
Once the door had closed completely and the commander could no longer be seen, Albert’s voice filled the room.
“Let’s start the voting on this issue.”
The meeting progressed more quietly than ever before.
One hour later, Albert informed Cale of the results: The appeal had gone through. With only a few votes to the contrary, the council of high nobles had authorized the decision to send reinforcements to Karo.
“Daddy, do you think I’ll get to see the commander?”
When the boy asked this question, banging on his silver shield all the while, his father smiled. “Of course. That’s why we got up so early to stand in the front.”
The boy laughed, his face shining with joy and anticipation. His father warmly watched over him.
A few months ago, this father and son had come to see off Albert and Cale on their way to the Mogor Empire. Cale’s response to the boy’s cheering was seared into his father’s memory.
“I want to be as cool as you, Lord Cale!”
The nobleman heralded as a hero had said something unexpected: “If you become anything like me, you won’t be cool at all. Take after your father instead. Only your parents are cool enough to embrace you and hoist you into the air.”
He had never encountered a noble who said such things. Whenever he recalled the way his son had looked at him then, eyes sparkling with wonder, it warmed his heart through and through.
Now he and his son were back on the streets again to greet Commander Cale Henituse on his way to Karo.
Bang. Bang. The sound of his son pounding on the shield was music to the father’s ears. At the same time, he overheard snatches of the conversation around him.
“Do you think it’s okay for the commander to go to Karo when the war isn’t over yet?”
“Hmm.”
“He’s even taking the swordmaster and the necromancer with him. The first mage brigade and some of the knights are going too.”
“But the navy and the whole company of royal knights aren’t going. Neither are the other mage brigades.”
“That’s true…”
“The commander personally assured His Highness that he’d teleport back immediately if Rowoon was in danger.” As if to soothe his anxious friend, the citizen went on, “He considers our kingdom to be his first priority.” Growing sentimental, he raised his voice. “Did you hear about the conversation the commander had with His Highness?”
“I did.”
Rumors about a supposed exchange between Cale and the crown prince had spread like wildfire through the capital the day before. While the public had no way of confirming whether it was true, everyone agreed that it sounded like something the two of them would say.
“Do you remember what the commander said during that conversation?”
“That Rowoon is strong?”
“Right. He said that even though the other kingdoms dismissed us, Rowoon emerged with an overwhelming victory and showed our mettle. And because we’re strong, he said that we should believe in ourselves more and lend a hand to those who are in need—that we should let the world experience our kingdom’s power once more!”
Those were the words of someone who defended Rowoon; they could be trusted. The father caressed his son’s head, nodding at the citizen’s booming declaration.
“Plus, we have a pair of heroes on our side: the swordmaster and the necromancer. So let’s put our faith in them.”
Indeed, Rowoon had two formidable heroes in its arsenal.
“But to call a necromancer a hero…”
The man holding his son frowned at that remark. He opened his mouth to retort, but the person talking to the speaker was faster.
“What’s wrong with the necromancer? That necromancer is a hundred times—no, a thousand times better than those other nobles in the northeast who didn’t lift a finger! You saw the video, didn’t you? There was a dragon. An actual dragon! Didn’t those dragon bones look awesome? Did you really think that was evil?”
“No, but still… You’ve heard the stories.”
“Who cares about stories? The only thing that matters is our survival.”
Exactly what I wanted to say. The father smiled, appeased, and hefted his son into his arms. As he did so, a trumpet let out an extended blare in the distance.
“Daddy!”
Securing his excited son in his grip, the father followed the boy’s line of sight.
Shing. Shiiing.
Swords swept from their scabbards and pointed up toward the sky, while a kaleidoscope of colorful mana orbs shot into the air.
“Wow!”
Safe in his father’s hold, the boy watched the knights and mages marching toward them. When he spotted a man with black hair and black eyes at the center of the knights’ formation, he yelled to his father, “That must be the swordmaster!”
Rowoon’s only aura-wielding swordmaster was a man with a youthful yet courageous face, handsome enough to draw people’s eyes.
The procession continued, and the boy with the shield saw it all: the mage brigade, the knights, and the swordmaster. But the one person he’d been looking for was nowhere in sight; Commander Cale had yet to arrive. The gathered crowd could only see a carriage behind the swordmaster.
Is the commander inside the carriage?
As if in answer to the child’s thoughts, the carriage window slowly lowered. The boy’s eyes gleamed. “Wow!”
He caught a glimpse of someone wearing a black robe—it was the necromancer! The boy cheered for this hero he had never seen before, but then his expression twisted in confusion.
“Huh?”
He’d expected to see one more person in the carriage, but Commander Cale didn’t show himself. The child couldn’t find him anywhere.
Naturally, this was because Cale chose not to appear.
“Lord Cale, they’re all calling for you.”
“They’re calling for you too, Mary.”
Cheers for the necromancer were plentiful—not as many as Choi Han received, but at least no one was cursing at her.
His Highness said he’d take care of it, Cale thought.
Albert had told him not to worry, promising that they would receive nothing but support during this procession—and it seemed the crown prince had made good on his word. Cale hadn’t asked what Albert planned to do; to be honest, he couldn’t be bothered.
“Yes, but…”
Cale pretended not to notice Mary’s mumbling as he sank back into his seat.
“Shield Lord!”
“Commander Silverlight!”
A long, long sigh slid past his lips. When would they get tired of those cheesy nicknames?
“Lord Cale, if you would only—”
“I’m not looking outside.”
His blunt response gave Mary pause, but after a moment’s hesitation, she forged ahead. “A child is desperately searching for you.”
Even the invisible Raon had something to say. ‹Weak human! It’s the same kid who showed off his shield for you last time! He sure grew a lot in just a few months. I knew it would happen!›
Damn it. With a deep scowl, Cale moved beside Mary and peeked out the window.Goodness.
He remembered the boy. His shield was more elaborately decorated than before.
“If you become anything like me, you won’t be cool at all. Take after your father instead. Only your parents are cool enough to embrace you and hoist you into the air.”
The boy had caught him off guard, so he’d spouted all sorts of nonsense.
Cale looked at the father and son. When they locked eyes, the boy waved the shield with even greater fervor. Cale retreated to a hidden corner of the carriage, then dragged a hand over his face.
The shields had multiplied. Among the people carrying silver shields, some gripped swords painted black, and others even wore black robes as they whooped and hollered…but the shields outnumbered everything else.
Damn it all. What if the shield got even trendier?
Setting his jaw in determination, Cale faced Mary. Right about now, Choi Han was probably projecting a heroic figure as he walked in the front of the procession.
I need to make sure the two of them take center stage this time. And if I make all the dark elves heroes on top of that…
Cale had heard about the number of troops advancing on Karo from Guardian Knight Clope. If Rowoon and its allies achieved an overwhelming victory in the coming battle, the public was bound to forget about Cale.
I won’t do a thing this time, he reminded himself diligently—no, desperately. I won’t use my powers as much. I’ll try not to use the shield unless it’s absolutely necessary.
***
Cale had decided on his plan of action, but the moment he teleported to Karo, he was greeted by someone completely unexpected.
“Oh, I thought you’d arrive right about now. Long time no see.”
Cale was flabbergasted.
Karo had requested reinforcements from both Rowoon and its neighboring Mogor Empire. Both nations had agreed to send aid.
Cale had given some thought to the Empire’s promised assistance. Considering the Empire was friendly with the Indomitable Alliance, he’d been quite curious to see how they would act and what kind of support they would provide—but this particular individual never featured in his calculations.
Alas, when Cale had teleported into the magic circle, he’d found Imperial Prince Adin of the Mogor Empire standing there grinning at him.
“Have you been well, Your Imperial Highness?” Cale managed to ask. He couldn’t believe his eyes. What was this bastard doing here? What about the Empire? Didn’t he have to defend his own domain?
Smile unwavering, the imperial prince replied, “Of course. Congratulations on Rowoon’s victory.”
Cale held back a scoff. I’m sure you’ve been just fabulous. He didn’t need any visible cues to know that this two-faced bastard was seething on the inside. After Adin saw the news of Rowoon’s triumph, he was probably too furious to sleep.
“And how have you been holding up, Lord Cale?” Adin asked.
Though running into the imperial prince here in Karo was outside his expectations, Cale mirrored the imperial prince’s veneer of cordiality. When he answered Adin, his manner was cheerier than ever.
“Quite well, Your Highness. Thanks to our success, I’ve been sleeping like a baby every night.”
The minute twitch Cale spied at the corner of the imperial prince’s lips felt like another win all on its own. As Cale contemplated how many more of these wonderful occasions he’d get to experience in the future, his grin widened.
‹It’s been a while since you’ve smiled like this, weak human! Are you about to scam someone?›
A scam? Nonsense. He was just smiling.
Cale let Raon’s comments go in one ear and out the other.
“Excellent,” Adin replied in a measured voice. “You deserve a break after your victory. A long break.”
A hint of incredulity rose to Cale’s face. Others might’ve assumed the imperial prince was being courteous, but to Cale, it sounded like this duplicitous bastard was telling him to take an eternal vacation in the comfort of his grave. Adin was only playing the role of a good person.
Keeping Adin in his periphery, Cale looked at the other people on the scene. A few knights stood guard behind the imperial prince, and some awkward-looking representatives from Karo lingered nearby.
I see the imperial prince’s inclusion wasn’t planned.
It was obvious when he thought about it. If Karo had known Adin would accompany the reinforcements personally, they would have informed Albert.
Cale said nothing as Adin took a step toward him. The imperial prince sidled closer before dropping his voice to almost a whisper. “I was shocked that you responded to this request. I was sure you’d be resting.”
Adin had expected Cale to relax after his victory; he’d never anticipated that Cale would come to Karo himself.
The imperial prince had spoken as if taking care to avoid offending Karo, and Cale offered a nonchalant reply in kind. “I’m also surprised to see you here, Your Highness.”
Why are you here? What are you scheming, and what are you trying to prevent?
As those questions zipped through Cale’s mind, someone else walked into the teleportation room.
“Oh, there you are!”
Cale had never seen this person before, but he’d heard enough descriptions to recognize him: Valentino, the crown prince of Karo—and Adin’s longtime friend.
“I thought you were in the office. Why are you here?” Valentino asked amicably, patting Adin on the shoulder. Despite the significant difference in status between the two of them, they were quite casual with one another.
Adin smiled and gestured to Cale. “I heard that our Empire’s hero would be making an appearance.”
Valentino held his hand out in greeting. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for coming to help our kingdom. I was on my way to welcome you, but it seems my friend here beat me to the punch.”
Valentino’s disregard for titles and etiquette was well known; he didn’t hesitate to take the initiative and offer his hand to a foreign nation’s commander.
Cale shook Valentino’s hand, showing him precisely the level of respect befitting a crown prince. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
Karo’s crown prince beamed. “A man after my own heart! I prefer things this way. I like people who aren’t overly deferential.”
“Is that so?”
Upon releasing Valentino’s hand, Cale caught the prince giving him a sharp once-over. He pretended he hadn’t noticed. Something else had piqued his curiosity.
Does Valentino really consider the Empire’s imperial prince a close friend?
Cale had heard a great deal about the Indomitable Alliance from that not-quite-sane bastard, Clope. Karo wasn’t included in the alliance, so they couldn’t have known about the relationship between the northern alliance, Arm, and the Mogor Empire. If they did, surely they wouldn’t have asked the Empire for aid.
There’s no telling whether they’re aware of the Empire’s shady behavior.
The Empire had purchased countless slaves for experiments in the Alchemist’s Bell Tower. Was Karo truly in the dark about the Empire’s evil deeds?
I’ll find out eventually.
Cale didn’t think about it too deeply. A core power within Karo would soon be shaken at its foundations; he could make his observations then.
“All right, what are we doing standing around?” Valentino said. “I’ll lead the way.”
A Karo administrator stepped forward to volunteer instead. “Your Highness, I’ll—”
“No need.” Valentino waved him off.
While Cale took note of Valentino’s extreme friendliness, Adin cut in, “Well, now that I’ve gotten to see your face and our Lord Cale’s, I should head back.”
Valentino pulled his attention away from the administrator, shooting Adin a disappointed look. “I thought you were going to stay until the military discussions tonight?”
Adin offered a similarly despondent expression. “I feel uneasy about leaving the Empire for so long. Duke Huiten is here. Isn’t that enough?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Adin patted Valentino’s shoulder. “I’ll be praying for your victory. I’m saying this not as the imperial prince but as your close friend.”
“Thank you.” Valentino’s gratitude was heartfelt. “Between Duke Huiten, the soldiers, the imperial knights, and the imperial mages, you’ve provided me so much support. We will emerge victorious.”
“Indeed! That sounds like the Valentino I know!”
The dignitaries from Karo and the representatives from Rowoon smiled at their bond, blissfully ignorant of the Empire’s crimes.
Only one person didn’t fall for it, though no one saw the bewilderment flash across Cale’s face. He shivered as uneasiness took hold of him. That’s strange. Why’s he acting so friendly?
Adin’s behavior defied explanation. On top of his warm overtures, he’d lent Karo the swordmaster Duke Huiten, the imperial knights, and the mages. He had essentially sent everyone except the alchemists. The Empire was showing Karo extraordinary generosity.
It would make for a beautiful story if the friendship between the two princes was true, but there was no way the imperial prince would do such a thing out of the kindness of his heart—not when he stood to benefit if the Indomitable Alliance won this battle.
‹Weak human, that imperial prince bastard’s smile is giving me the creeps.›
Right? Even Raon noticed. As Cale peered at Adin with mounting suspicion, the imperial prince’s gaze swung back toward him.
“It was nice seeing you again.”
“The pleasure was all mine, Your Imperial Highness.”
The rest of Rowoon’s contingent watched the two chat with matching smiles. Cale’s apparent close relationship with the imperial prince made him seem reliable in their eyes. Soon enough, their smiles glowed even brighter.
“Are you Rowoon’s newest and youngest swordmaster?”
The imperial prince had approached Choi Han, Rowoon’s rising star. Pride swelled in the hearts of Rowoon’s knights and mages when they saw the awe in the prince’s gaze.
Once again, only a single person wasn’t fooled. Cale pressed his lips together before the corner of his mouth could quirk up in a smirk.
Oh, how interesting.
The imperial prince was facing both Choi Han and Mary, but he addressed Choi Han instead of the necromancer, who kept her head down.
“I didn’t realize Lord Cale’s guard was such a skilled warrior.”
Adin extended a hand. It was no small feat for the imperial prince to offer his own hand to Choi Han, who boasted neither title nor rank. Choi Han was a swordmaster, however—and to all appearances, the youngest swordmaster on the continent at that.
The imperial prince regarded Choi Han with a pleasant and amiable expression. “The emergence of the continent’s youngest swordmaster… May I shake your hand?”
Cale suppressed a sneer. Did he come here to scope out the enemy?
Had the imperial prince wanted to see Choi Han and Mary with his own eyes?
At last, Cale glimpsed the depth of the imperial prince’s anxiety. And why wouldn’t Adin feel anxious? On the surface, the Empire and Rowoon enjoyed a cordial relationship. Both had suffered the impact of bombing incidents, and Cale had received a Mogor Medal of Honor. But starting in Cale’s territory, things had begun to go awry. He could easily imagine the resentment hidden beneath the imperial prince’s mask.
This awfully satisfying state of affairs granted Cale the freedom to watch the imperial prince squirm at his leisure. Then, out of nowhere, his face itched terribly—his cheek all but sizzling.
‹Human! Human, Choi Han is looking at you!›
Hmm? Cale turned his head to find Choi Han staring blankly at him, leaving the imperial prince still holding out his hand.
Cale had given Choi Han and Mary strict instructions before they teleported to Karo: “You two don’t need to play along. If the situation calls for it, report to me first.” After all, one of them was a terrible actor, while the other was so innocent that she would probably give the game away. As Cale looked at Choi Han now, he recalled his order.
Is that the problem?
When Cale dipped his head in a shallow nod, the stone-faced Choi Han politely shook Adin’s hand.
Ha ha, this punk!
Choi Han really was a great guy, Cale reflected. For the first time in ages, Cale felt completely reenergized.
Adin loosed a hearty laugh, patting Choi Han’s shoulder as if the whole interlude had greatly amused him. “My, my. You truly are Commander Cale’s loyal subordinate.”
Cale knew that in some ways, Choi Han’s behavior could be considered disrespectful, so he stepped in to nudge the conversation along. “He’s still rusty in matters of etiquette, so I admonished him before we came here. It seems he took me too literally. I appreciate your patience, Your Imperial Highness.”
“No harm done. It’s only to be expected from someone without a noble upbringing. Besides, it’s not possible to reach this level of mastery with the sword at such a young age if you pay attention to anything else. Isn’t that right, Choi Han?”
Oho. So the imperial prince knew Choi Han’s name. Cale was intrigued; a cold glint shone in his eyes. Does that mean someone in Rowoon’s royal palace is a mole for the Empire?
“You are correct, Your Highness,” Choi Han said. “For the sake of preserving our new lege—I mean, our new history, I believe I should focus on sharpening my skills even more.”
Choi Han spoke the truth, though he nearly slipped into his terrible acting. The observers from Rowoon enjoyed a sense of deep satisfaction at his words, but only Mary understood what Choi Han had probably intended to say: “our legend.” She clenched her fists, trembling within her black robe as she stared at Choi Han’s back.
“Ha ha ha, indeed!” Adin exclaimed. “What a wonderful young man! And the necromancer behind you as well. You’re both destined for great things. Why wasn’t our Empire blessed with such talent?”
“You said it,” Valentino agreed. “I’m envious on Karo’s behalf.”
After the two heirs shared a laugh, they guided the conversation to a close.
“I’ll be heading back now,” Adin said, and with that, he and his personal guard approached the magic teleportation circle and returned to the Empire.
***
A few hours later, Cale participated in Karo’s war council. Of the select few people gathered around the small, round table, Valentino of Karo and Duke Huiten of Mogor were familiar to Cale, but there were others he didn’t recognize. One was Karo’s commander, the general in charge of the coming battle.
The other was the bishop of the Church of the God of Sun’s Karo branch. The bishop was here to represent the church’s interests, but he showed no hostility toward Cale or Mary, merely smiling like a proper man of the cloth when he made eye contact with Cale.
Cale recalled what Valentino had said to him earlier: “The churches within the kingdom have agreed to help us. There shouldn’t be anyone provoking your subordinate. They gave us their word, and we’ve been very stern with them about it as well.”
Cale found Karo’s attentive accommodation of his needs quite satisfactory. Fortunately, with war looming on the horizon, the churches seemed capable of differentiating between friend and foe.
While only a handful of people were seated at the table, a small army of people flanked them: the guards for each representative. Mary, Choi Han, and Vice-Captain Hilsmann stood behind Cale.
Before attending this meeting, Cale had said to Mary, “A priest of the God of Sun will be there. Do you still want to go? I’d understand if you’d rather rest here with Raon.”
“Vice-Captain Hilsmann told me that priests only spout rubbish. I am strong. I do not need to hide. I wish to stand behind you like Choi Han.”
“Well, if you insist. Let’s go together, then.”
Then Raon had thrown in, ‹Don’t worry, weak human! I’ll protect our precious Mary!›
Raon was particularly fond of Mary. Cale suspected that might be because their lives shared quite a few similarities.
Dismissing Raon and Mary from his thoughts, Cale looked at the officer outlining the battle plan. He needed to focus on the meeting.
“The final battle will take place at Castle Leona.” The officer pointed to a map of Karo. “The Land of Death, one of the Five Wonders, lies to the south. There’s no chance of the Indomitable Alliance approaching from that direction.”
He traced an X over the Land of Death before shifting his finger toward the center of Karo.
“Given their current trajectory, there’s a good chance they’ll make landfall on the central shore. That’s the closest point to the capital.”
Karo had given up on a naval battle; their navy was weak, and it would be difficult for reinforcements to reach them on the open sea. Accordingly, they chose to aim for a battle on the central shore instead. They didn’t know what prompted the Indomitable Alliance to target the central area instead of northern Karo, but it presented them with a good opportunity. Not only was that region sparsely developed, with few inhabitants, but two large mountains also bordered the shore.
“Based on that intel, we’ve evacuated the locals and relocated the food stores from warehouses in that area. Also, we assembled all of our forces near Castle Leona.”
The officer’s finger dragged to a stop at the large fortress near the central shoreline. According to the map, Castle Leona was larger than the other castles in the kingdom.
“Castle Leona is located between the two mountains bordering the central shore. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say there is no route to the capital that circumnavigates the fortress.”
Though the enemy did technically have the option to hike the two mountains, the chances were slim. It was no simple matter to traverse those peaks on foot.
“How many ships are in the Indomitable Alliance’s fleet?” Duke Huiten asked, feigning ignorance.
“Approximately five or six hundred, Your Grace,” the officer replied. “There are many large vessels within the group. We should assume that those ships are carrying a significant number of soldiers.”
The problem was not quantity but quality.
The officer cleared his throat, turning to Cale. “The abilities they demonstrated in Rowoon’s Henituse territory were substantial. We believe we need to devote considerable resources to the castle defenses.”
Cale listened in silence. He probably could have cooked up a ploy to stop the fleet before it made landfall, but he also understood why Karo would choose to abandon naval warfare and plan to fight onshore instead. Karo didn’t only need to protect itself from the Indomitable Alliance; it had to stay strong against the Mogor Empire and Rowoon as well. That was probably why they wanted to proceed in a location that allowed them to bring their maximum strength to bear. Cale had no desire to involve himself too deeply in another kingdom’s issues, so he kept mum on the matter.
“As a fortress that protects the central shore, Castle Leona is quite large,” the officer continued. “The gates essentially form a triangular shape, centered between three towers. Each tower is roughly the size of a small castle.”
“I guess we can each defend a tower, then,” Valentino said. He smiled at Cale and Duke Huiten, who understood.
“Yes, Your Highness. Since Castle Leona is north of the shore, our kingdom will man the central tower, and the Mogor Empire will take the one to the north. As for the southern tower, well…”
The officer dithered for a moment before looking at Cale. They had originally planned to entrust the southern tower’s defense to Rowoon, but that was because Rowoon had promised ample reinforcements. The number of troops that actually showed up was…suboptimal, to say the least. While the quality of Rowoon’s reinforcements was beyond reproach, there were fewer than a hundred of them altogether. Could Karo really leave the southern tower in the hands of such a small force?
“We were, um, operating under erroneous calculations when we planned to leave the southern tower to Rowoon.” The officer didn’t dare tell people who came to Karo’s aid that the miscalculation occurred because their reinforcements were lacking, so he hid behind his roundabout explanation.
Catching on to the officer’s awkwardness, Duke Huiten said, “Commander Cale, don’t you have too few men to defend the entire southern tower? Why don’t I lend you some knights and archers? What do you think?” In deference to Cale’s rank as a commander, he spoke in a somewhat formal manner.
“No,” Valentino cut in, “it might make more sense for us to divide our central forces. What are your thoughts, Commander?”
Karo’s commander voiced his agreement. “I also believe that’s the better option. Since Rowoon’s troops are extremely skilled, we should be able to handle the rest if they can take care of the enemy’s core forces.”
The conversation was quite amicable. Though this was a strategy meeting, no one raised their voice; each nation tried to support the others to the best of their ability. The officer’s heart brimmed with pride to see it.
Beaming, he said, “Right. Also, healers from the Church of the God of Sun and other faiths associated with light will be assigned to each tower, so you don’t need to worry about any injuries.” Turning to the bishop, the officer asked warmly, “Isn’t that right, Bishop?”
The bishop had joined the meeting as a mouthpiece for the church. Karo had promised a significant donation in return for the healers; when the churches got word of the impressive sum, they’d agreed right away.
“Of course. You needn’t be concerned.” With a smile, the bishop continued, “At least, Karo and the Mogor Empire needn’t be.”
The officer’s cheerful mood evaporated. The alliance of religious institutions under the Church of the God of Sun’s leadership was willing to heal the Mogor Empire’s soldiers despite the friction between them, but it seemed one place was considered unworthy of their aid.
“We cannot heal Rowoon’s forces,” the bishop declared.
“What?!” Valentino glowered at the bishop. This contradicted their original agreement.
The bishop maintained his good-natured smile as he gestured to Rowoon’s representatives. “There’s nothing I can do about it, Your Highness. After all, that one will die if divine power is used on her.” He pointed at the black robe. “She’s a necromancer who consumes dead mana in order to survive.”
Future considerations required the church to remain on good terms with the Mogor Empire, but if they helped Rowoon, they could lose face. Nothing mattered more to the churches than pride and pretenses.
The Empire’s representative, Duke Huiten, let out a groan and leaned back in his chair. This was his way of saying that he wasn’t going to get involved.
“Bishop,” Valentino said, expression unyielding as he regarded the man, “do you know what it means to behave this way in front of people I asked to help us?”
The bishop kept his mouth shut. The churches had yet to receive the promised funds, and it would be Karo’s loss if they pulled out now. They merely had to tell their believers that they couldn’t help Karo because the kingdom chose to associate with a cursed being.
“Our decision is final,” he said at last. “Initially, we did intend to help Rowoon’s people as well, but Commander Cale and Rowoon’s royal family refused to hand the necromancer over. As things stand, my hands are tied.”
Valentino couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t at all what they had discussed, yet the bishop’s attitude suggested that he was the injured party.
The prince’s face darkened. “You wish to play games when people’s lives are at stake?”
The bishop flinched at Valentino’s icy glare, but he stood his ground. “You think this a game? Of course not. I’m only saying there is someone who cannot be healed, to say nothing of the people who don’t deserve healing.”
Just then, another voice joined the discussion.
“Oh my. How ridiculous.”
Valentino turned his head to find Cale smiling—yet a vicious aura smoldered about him.
“I didn’t think you’d spout such bullshit so openly in a place like this,” Cale drawled. He truly hadn’t expected them to say it so candidly.
His blasé interjection transformed the atmosphere around the table. Valentino watched Cale with curiosity, his eyes shining with interest at Cale’s brash manner of speech.
The bishop, on the other hand, couldn’t bear it. “Bullshit”?!
Springing from his seat, he shouted, “Excuse me, what did you just—”
“We don’t need it.”
“Pardon?”
Spurred on by extreme irritation, Cale dispensed with propriety and reverted to his long-dormant degenerate roots. “We don’t need healing from bastards like you.”
“H-how dare you be so crass!” the bishop sputtered. “If you treat us this way, we’ll—”
“Mary?”
The lout cut him off, disregarding him entirely in favor of checking on Mary.
The bulk of Cale’s annoyance was directed at himself; Mary shouldn’t have had to hear these things. Worried that she would think that it was her fault Rowoon couldn’t receive treatment from the priests, or that she herself was someone unworthy of healing, Cale hastened to tell her to banish such ludicrous ideas from her mind.
At least, that was his plan—but Mary spoke first. “I am cool. There is no reason for me to hide.”
Cale closed his mouth. Mary’s mechanical yet innocent voice was firm, without a shred of hesitation. A smile spread across Cale’s face.
‹I’m gonna kill that bastard.›
Cale opposed Raon’s threat; it wouldn’t be enough. The dragon’s desired retribution was too simplistic to satisfy Cale’s reprobate nature.
He began, “Your Highness—”
“Y-you would ignore me? You would ignore the church?!”
Cale studied the bishop’s face, contorted in rage. “The real curse will be on you and your church,” he spat.
Who are they to decide who’s deserving of healing?
“Wh-what?”
Cale changed tactics. He had originally planned to win over Karo’s branch of the Church of the God of Sun in order to oppose the Mogor Empire, but this called for a different strategy. From now on, the Empire and the church would be lumped together.
After all, why shouldn’t Cale change his plans on a whim without regard for anyone else? Wasn’t that the very essence of being a lout?
Let the Condemnation of the Sun fall on these bastards’ heads.
Determined, Cale made his intentions clear. “Your Highness, our forces are sufficient to defend the southern tower.”
“I understand how you feel, Commander Cale, but we need to make sure nobody gets hurt. I’ll resolve today’s issues—”
“Nobody will get hurt.”
Valentino’s mouth snapped shut. He could see that Cale was confident beyond a shadow of doubt. Rowoon’s forces wouldn’t be harmed; Cale could guarantee it.
“And that’s because Rowoon’s heroes are here.” Cale’s gaze settled on the bishop, who remained on his feet. “Have you ever felt so much pain that you wanted to die?”
“Excuse me…?”
“We call the people who overcome that kind of pain ‘heroes.’”
A pain worse than death. Mary looked back on her past, recalling the days of clinging to life though dead mana poisoning. Choi Han, in turn, thought about his time fighting for survival in the Dark Forest.
“The people standing behind me rose above that pain,” Cale said, with greater conviction than ever before. “They’re the ones I can trust to have my back.”
The pair of heroes behind Cale stood straighter, especially Mary. There was no reason for her to cower or hide.
“Healing that only serves those who ‘deserve’ it? We’ll pass on that load of crap.”
They needn’t conform to some set of arbitrary qualifications. They were already perfect and complete just as they were—together.
Cale pushed up from his chair. “Are you done with the briefing?”
“What? Oh, yes.” Faced with Cale’s unexpected question, the officer unthinkingly offered an honest answer.
“And I suppose each nation will receive the details in writing?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
With a brisk bow to Valentino, Cale said, “I’ll be the first to take my leave, then.”
The prince hesitated. “I’ll come to see you later.”
Cale wasn’t angry with Karo; they had done everything they could. The churches were simply blind.
“What do you think you’re doing, Commander?” the bishop huffed, glaring at Cale. “Apologize for your absurd statements about the church!”
Cale strode toward the door, perusing the gazes focused on him before he finally met the bishop’s eyes. As he walked past, he whispered, “You lost your chance.”
What chance? The bishop gawked at Cale, wondering what fresh nonsense he was spewing, but Cale threw the door open and left without looking back. The bishop watched Cale’s inelegant actions until he felt a sudden chill.
He shifted his gaze, only to freeze at what he saw: Choi Han and Hilsmann piercing him with silent stares. They kept it up until Mary exited the room, then trailed after Cale and Mary as if guarding them both.
Once Cale’s group arrived at his bedroom, they heard him mumbling under his breath.
“The Church of the God of Sun just signed their own death warrant.”
Chapter 47: A Twist
Chapter 47:
A Twist
THE SOLDIER clenched the shaft of his spear in a white-knuckled grip as he ascended the steps. While the stone staircase was sturdy despite its age, his face pinched like he’d bitten into a lemon.
Why did it have to be here?!
The world outside came into view beyond the shoulders of the soldier in front of him. As he passed through the exit, a cool breeze brushed his cheeks. A broad horizon greeted him.
Three towers surrounded the grandiose stronghold known as Castle Leona. The soldier was stationed atop the wall near the southern tower.
Just why did I have to end up with Rowoon instead of the Empire, or even the central tower?!
The soldier curled into himself. He was one of the few Karo troops assigned to the southern tower. Rowoon had said their forces would suffice, but a few Karo troops were still essential to relay orders from the central command station. The soldier’s duties mainly consisted of delivering messages and other miscellaneous tasks, though he was armed with a spear just in case he needed it.
“It’s so empty.”
When he heard his comrade’s comment, the soldier grew even more despondent. The area really was empty. Rowoon had less than a hundred soldiers—nowhere near enough to fill the southern castle wall, let alone a tower the size of a small castle.
Taking a look around, the soldier sighed. “The Empire’s tower is amazing.”
At the northern tower, the Empire’s soldiers, knights, and mages dotted the entirety of the wall. The soldier spotted their leader, Duke Huiten, among them. A bit farther out, he could make out the forms of numerous Karo soldiers manning the central tower.
But a bigger issue loomed that made the current situation seem irrelevant.
“Why are there so many…?”
The soldier had a clear view of the central shore beneath the southern tower, where scores of towering ships were docked along the coastline. The Indomitable Alliance and Karo’s confederation had been at a standstill since early that morning.
Limbs quivering, he prepared for his first encounter with war. His expression couldn’t have been gloomier. Even if he couldn’t join the rest of Karo’s forces at the central tower, being with the Empire might have upped his chance of survival. If he did end up needing to fight, he wanted to do it somewhere that had a proper system in place!
The enemy fleet completely saturated the coastline, to the point that the soldiers in the castle couldn’t even see the water. If the troops aboard those ships charged them, the entire area would be swarmed by the enemy. Just thinking about that unfathomable horde of enemies rushing the castle gave the soldier chills. Castle Leona did have catapults and wooden pillars installed to fend off enemy assaults, but those were at the central and northern towers; this empty southern tower had no such defenses.
I know they’re strong, but…
News of Rowoon’s triumph was already common knowledge, with talk of the kingdom’s unbelievable victory on everyone’s lips. Truth be told, the soldier had personally volunteered to come to Rowoon’s tower, inspired by the story of their achievement. I want to fight in a battle like that and win against strong opponents too! he’d thought. I want to be victorious! And so he had requested to join Rowoon’s forces—but now the reality of the situation filled him with fear. All the fighting spirit in the world wouldn’t guarantee his survival, after all.
“Why do you look so scared?”
The soldier looked up; his senior officer was speaking. This man had served for about a decade longer than he had, and they had grown close enough that the older fellow was like an uncle to him.
After hesitating for a beat, the soldier responded, “I just…I just wonder if I’ll make it through this.”
“It’s far too early to lose hope.”
“But it’s the truth!” The soldier glanced between the other two towers before looking again at his own, then hung his head. “With so few people here, there’ll be a lot of gaps in the line, so we’re that much more likely to get hurt. I know the troops from Rowoon are strong, but will they have time to protect us while they fight?”
Rowoon’s formidable forces might survive this; they might even claim victory. No… Based on their current makeup, Karo’s confederation expected to manage a draw with the Indomitable Alliance at the very least, if not defeat them decisively. The Empire had brought a significant number of reinforcements, and the defending side always held the advantage in a fortress siege. Yet even so, the soldier had no way of knowing whether he would live to see that victory himself. That uncertainty terrified him.
“Even yesterday,” he went on, speaking as openly as he would to his own family, “while the other towers were busy with preparations, all the knights and mages on our side were just digging. We don’t even know what we were digging for.”
Rowoon’s forces had spent the previous day shoveling the ground from sunup to sundown. At first the soldier had wondered if they were digging traps, but that didn’t seem to be the case. When he asked for the reason, they simply told him they were digging, and that was that. It only served to compound his frustration.
“We’re all supposed to be on the same side, but they won’t include us in their plans!”
No sooner had those words burst out of him than another voice cut in, “Hmm. It seems that’s what they’re thinking, Commander. I don’t think that’s good for morale.”
The soldier flinched. Huh?
As his senior officer stepped forward to hide him from view, the young soldier slowly turned around to see a group of people ascending the stone steps behind him: the key players in Rowoon’s overwhelming victory.
The soldier examined the red-haired Commander Cale Henituse’s stoic expression. While the commander didn’t look scary, he did give off an unapproachable air. Following in his wake were the continent’s youngest swordmaster, Choi Han, and the necromancer, Mary. The kingdom’s knights and mages trailed behind them. Altogether, they represented Rowoon’s entire contingent.
“Uh, I-I…” Did he hear me? The soldier’s lips flapped uselessly; he didn’t know what to do.
Then he noticed someone smiling at him. He knew this person too: Vice-Captain Hilsmann of Rowoon’s Henituse territory. Hilsmann had introduced himself to the southern tower’s soldiers yesterday. He was also the one who had commented on the troops’ morale.
What do I do?! the soldier fretted, eyes wavering.
Right then, Cale’s gaze met his. “Don’t worry.”
“Sir…?” the young soldier blurted out in confusion.
As the commander walked past him toward the topmost part of the tower, he addressed the few soldiers assigned to the post. “I already think of you as our own,” Cale said. “Let’s all get through this together and go for drinks afterward.”
Oh…
No particular emotion infused Cale’s tone, but the words echoed in the soldier’s mind nonetheless. He watched Cale’s back as the commander continued his climb, the swordmaster and the necromancer hot on his heels. Then he spotted people lining up along the wall: Rowoon’s knights and mages, who had walked past Karo’s soldiers and stood right up against the ledge.
As the dazed soldier took all this in, Vice-Captain Hilsmann approached him. “Ahem. It’ll be bad if morale drops, so let me say something too.” He puffed out his chest. “There’s a famous saying in our county… Well, actually, it’s starting to catch on throughout the kingdom. If you remember this phrase, you won’t be afraid.”
Where was this coming from? With the commander’s words still ringing in his ears, the soldier couldn’t understand Vice-Captain Hilsmann clearly. Even so, he found himself listening intently to hear what Hilsmann had to say next.
When the vice-captain felt he’d gathered their attention, he recited: “‘The shield won’t break.’” As though impressed by his own words, he added, “Goodness me!”
Karo’s soldiers couldn’t hide their confusion. Though the strength of Cale’s shield was well known, this saying had yet to spread to other kingdoms.
Beaming at the befuddled soldiers, the vice-captain added, “Just keep it in mind. Everyone on our side holds this phrase in their heart.”
Our side. The young soldier looked at the mages and the knights in front of him.
“When we’re fighting side by side, you’ll naturally come to understand,” Hilsmann said. “So let’s give this fight everything we’ve got!”
Leaving the group with that, Hilsmann hurried after Cale, who had disappeared into the tower.
“The shield won’t break.” The soldier repeated that sentence in his mind.
His senior officer—the same man who had taught him spear arts since he was young, like a patient uncle—said, “Looks like we don’t need to worry.”
Just like that, the young soldier’s anxieties melted away. “Yes, sir!”
“All we need to do is carry out our duties as best we can.”
After hearing their seniormost comrade speak, the others checked for their horns, spears, and alarms. It was their job to report on the status of the battle. While Commander Cale did have a communication sphere, these soldiers had the vital role of go-betweens, like veins facilitating the flow of blood throughout the body of their defending force.
Their mindsets had shifted just a bit.
Unaware of this, Cale shot a questioning glance at Hilsmann, who had finally caught up to him. “What’s with that look?”
Hilsmann only chortled in response, and Cale decided to let it go. He didn’t know what Hilsmann had said to the soldiers, but the vice-captain’s grin filled him with dread. Nevertheless, Cale had no time or attention to spare.
One of Karo’s knights reached the top of the tower behind Hilsmann. He had been assigned to assist Cale during the battle. “Oh, Commander! There you are!”
Filled with genuine regret, Valentino had apologized to Cale numerous times despite his elevated status. He’d also said he wouldn’t be comfortable sending Cale into battle without healers, even though Cale insisted that his group would be fine. Thus, Valentino had dispatched just two people to Rowoon’s tower: this knight, who came from a family of healers, and a mage capable of simple healing. Although there were only the two of them, Cale believed that Valentino had tried his best.
Karo’s crown prince had wanted to send more soldiers, but Cale had refused the unnecessary gesture. He had tons of money and potions on hand, including the top-grade potions he kept in his subspace. He was more than capable of looking after his own people.
“The wind is quite rough today.”
Cale nodded at the knight’s statement, his gaze focused on the tower ahead. Beyond it, he could make out the shoreline, packed with large ships being buffeted by the harsh gales, and the lofty mountain to the left of the southern tower.
“I can see the Land of Death,” Cale said.
Located far to the south, between the mountain and the coast, the desert known as the Land of Death covered most of Karo’s southern region. With the sun about to set, the desert’s sands still glowed blood red.
“The Land of Death may be visible,” Karo’s knight said in a rush, “but it won’t harm us, so don’t be afraid! The enemy has no reason to escape in that direction either.”
As the knight watched, the commander’s lips quirked into a smile. “Exactly. They can’t escape.”
A shiver racked the knight’s body at Cale’s low voice, but he quickly returned to his senses and explained his reason for coming. “It looks like we’ll maintain this standoff for now, and the battle will start tomorrow morning.”
“Why?”
“It’s difficult to use guerrilla tactics here at night, and it’s not easy for two large armies to fight at night anyway.” The knight turned his gaze toward the shore, his face relaxing a little. “Plus, the enemy hasn’t emerged from the ships yet.”
It was true. Although they’d spotted some people walking on the decks of the enemy ships, they hadn’t seen anyone else. Their foes were lurking within the vessels.
“The fact that they’re still on board leads us to believe they won’t attack today. They’ll need to advance on foot or use some form of transportation, like horses. Either way, they’ll have to prepare before they can strike.”
That was one of the reasons Karo felt so confident. A battle on land required both sides to reveal their cards. Since the enemy hadn’t shown themselves even as the sun began to set, the officer assumed the battle would start tomorrow.
At Cale’s wordless nod, the knight bowed his head. “If that’s all, I’ll head back to prepare.”
“Good.”
Cale gave no further orders. Bemused, the knight thought, He’s a man of few words.
Perhaps because the story of Cale flinging curses at the bishop had been making the rounds, the knight was amazed to see this taciturn side of the commander so soon after hearing about his uncouth behavior.
The knight moved to walk down the stairs, muttering to himself along the way. “Since I’ve made my report, I just need to wait at the castle wall—”
A sharp screech pierced the knight’s eardrums, cutting him off.
“Ugh!” He clamped his hands over his ears—then immediately let go to steady himself as a mighty boom cracked through the air, the ground trembling underfoot. “Huh?”
A cacophony rose up around him. Screech! Boom!
What’s going on?!
Using the wall for support, the knight raced down the stairs and came upon the young soldier-messenger at the bottom. The spear in the young soldier’s hand clattered to the ground. His face was a portrait of fear.
Anxiety roiled inside the knight. Could it be…? Just as he whipped his head around, another ear-splitting sound reached the forces of Castle Leona.
Wee-ooo. Wee-ooo. It was the alarm signaling the start of the battle.
War was upon them.
“Oh no.”
The screeching he’d heard resembled the squeak of spinning wheels, but it soon fell away, as if those wheels had found a steady rhythm. Meanwhile, the ground—no, the entire shoreline—continued to shudder.
Boooom. Boom.
The knight absorbed the scene with wide eyes, unable to close his unhinged jaw.
“What the hell?!”
The enemy ships were surging toward them.
Before the knight’s eyes, the enemy fleet moved out of the water and rushed onto land. Though the largest ships held their positions, the enemy’s small and midsize ships were skimming the ground.
As one midsize ship revealed its hull after treading through the shallows, the knight could see a set of wheels underneath the vessel. Those wheels were hard at work propelling the ship across the land.
How is that possible? That thought consumed the knight’s mind. But whether it was possible or not was beside the point; he was seeing it with his own eyes. Then another thought crossed his mind: The northern shores are all sand dunes!
Karo’s northern shoreline was famous for its sand dunes. Conversely, the central shore was the only coastal area in all of Karo that wasn’t blanketed by heaps of sand.
So the reason they picked the central shore wasn’t because it’s close to the capital!
The knight was at a loss for words as small and midsize ships meant for sailing the high seas trundled toward them at incredible speed, like a fleet of giant carriages. The sight of hundreds of ships advancing on the castle in the glow of sunset exerted enormous pressure.
Then people appeared atop the charging ships. A groan tore from the knight’s throat. “No!”
Boom. Boom.
Bears stood on the rumbling ships. One by one, their imposing silhouettes materialized on the decks—brown bears and polar bears, the strongest members of the Bear Tribe, each in their berserk state.
“It’s the Bear Tribe.” Karo’s confederation had expected the Bear Tribe to join the fray, but their significant numbers were still daunting.
Then, as the knight noticed the midsize ship leading the fleet, his eyes wavered.
“Bwa ha ha ha ha!” The individual aboard that vessel—a berserk bear nearly three meters tall, with snow-white fur—had burst out laughing. The berserk polar bear’s eyes glinted red as the fleet closed in on the castle.
As if in answer to his cackling, the other bears started to laugh as well. The scene struck terror into the hearts of the soldiers and knights who had never experienced war.
Screech. Boom!
The hatches on the large ships burst open, soldiers spilling forth like swarming ants. The endless tide of enemy soldiers made the knight gulp.
“Split up!” As soon as the polar bear’s bellowed command resounded across the coast, the ships divided into three groups.
The alarm continued to peal at Castle Leona, but the knight couldn’t hear it anymore; he perceived nothing but the bears, the ships, and the enemy soldiers with alliance knights flanking them.
What the…?!
The enemy had the momentum; the knight could feel it. The pressure they exerted was overwhelming, and—
Pat.
Nearly jumping out of his skin, the knight spun around to see who had placed a hand on his shoulder. “Commander!”
It was Commander Cale. After releasing the knight’s shoulder, Cale bent down to pick up the fallen spear and handed it to the young soldier who’d dropped it. The soldier accepted the weapon with shaking hands.
“Take good care of it,” Cale said, giving the soldier’s shoulder a gentle pat before continuing on his way. His delivery was confident and calm. “You can’t lose your weapon when the enemy is in front of you.”
The commander strode past the soldiers to stand close to the ledge. It was in some respects the most dangerous vantage point he could’ve chosen, but he wore a relaxed smile on his face.
As the soldier’s shaky grip finally steadied, he heard the commander speak.
“Choi Han.”
“Yes, sir.”
The swordmaster stood at Cale’s side, waiting for him to continue. Choi Han looked to be only a year or two older than the soldier himself.
Cale peered down at the castle wall, mentally rehashing some of the information Clope had disclosed to him.
“The Bear Tribe wants land, so they’re most likely the ones leading the fleet to Karo. They’re probably hiding a secret weapon as well. The Bear Tribe and the Flame Dwarves are both sly—they have a lot of secrets.”
“So that’s it,” Cale murmured. These ships were the Indomitable Alliance’s trump card. Although they couldn’t craft with magic, the Flame Dwarves excelled in making mechanical devices.
“The Flame Dwarves are cleverer and more devious than any other clan.”
Raon’s voice overlapped with Clope’s intel in Cale’s mind. ‹Human, I’m sensing the power of magic stones coming from those ships.›
I thought the Flame Dwarves couldn’t make magic devices, but those ships are being moved by mana. A corner of Cale’s mouth quirked upward.
“Bwa ha ha ha! Come and get it!”
The laughter of berserk brown bears carried to Cale’s ears. While the big polar bear from earlier was headed to the central tower, these bears were coming for the southern tower. Considering the tribe’s cunning, their bellows and guffaws were all probably an act.
“Excuse me, Commander,” the mage assigned to Cale’s tower cut in. “We’re getting a call from the central tower.”
She tentatively held out the communication sphere to Cale, but he went on speaking without sparing her a glance. “We can’t lose a battle of momentum.”
“Excuse me?” she blurted out.
“Choi Han.”
“Sir?”
Cale pointed to the base of the castle wall, indicating the ship at the forefront of the group assaulting the southern tower. A group of brown bears was visible on deck.
“Break it,” he said.
The moment the words left his lips, quiet footsteps drummed the stone. Tat, tat.
“Oh!” the young soldier gasped.
Choi Han was flying.
The black-haired swordsman had kicked off the castle wall, his blade coated in a black aura that shot skyward. As he launched into the air, he looked like a bird taking flight—and then he plunged straight down, evoking the image of a raptor diving for its prey’s throat.
“I finally get to face you!” Far from flinching at the sight of Choi Han, the brown bear on the vanguard ship shouted as if he’d been waiting for the swordmaster all along. “Do you really think you can destroy this ship with that puny aura of yours?!”
The brown bear had reason for his confidence. The fake dragon slayer, Sirem, had sent a message through Arm when he returned alone from Henituse territory. According to the intelligence he provided prior to the naval battle with Rowoon, Choi Han’s aura only extended up to two meters. This ship exceeded the maximum size of Choi Han’s aura several times over; there was no way he could cut through it. The ship wouldn’t stop as long as the wheels on both sides kept rolling.
“You Henituse bastards killed my close friends! I’m gonna end you!”
The ships charging Rowoon’s tower carried a squad of brown bears, and those bears hailed from the same clan as those who had attacked Henituse territory. Veins bulged on the berserk bears’ arms.
The brown bear on the lead ship locked eyes with Choi Han, one above and the other below. As he did, he noticed that Choi Han was muttering something under his breath. Without a second thought, the brown bear read Choi Han’s lips.
“How lame.”
Lame? Chills skittered down the brown bear’s spine. Just as the bear sprang from the deck, Choi Han slashed his sword. Moving slowly but with considerable strength, the sword swung down toward the ground.
Driven by instinct, the brown bear shouted, “W-watch out!”
Choi Han’s black aura shouldn’t have gone over two meters. But the moment Choi Han swung his blade, the aura had stretched into a spear—one that seemed to extend into eternity. As if in mockery of the professed two-meter limit, the unfathomably long black aura extending from Choi Han’s hand pierced through the ship.
Boom! The first explosion of the battle went off.
As the brown bear landed on the ground, he gaped at the scene behind him in shock.
“H-how did he…?!”
The aura-spear had pierced the middle of the ship with devastating accuracy, splitting it in two. The Flame Dwarves had designed this vessel to withstand the average magical attack, but just like that, Choi Han had bisected it.
And that wasn’t all. He’d also destroyed two additional ships in the process.
“What the hell?”
For the space of several heartbeats, silence settled over the battleground. The brown bear slowly turned to see the black-haired swordmaster.
“It’s been a while,” Choi Han said, his gaze focused on the brown bear. “I haven’t fired off all my power in quite some time.”
Flinching in spite of himself, the brown bear stammered, “I-I heard your aura only got up to two meters long!”
The dragon slayer hadn’t lied, not really. An aura’s size was determined by its user. Still, a meter-long aura was incomparable to a ten-meter aura that was compressed into a single meter.
Sirem had given the Indomitable Alliance misleading information because he’d been more concerned with healing himself than making accurate reports. Then he had been captured by Cale, eliminating any chance for the alliance to correct the intel.
“How lame.” Choi Han’s words reverberated in the back of the brown bear’s mind.
Choi Han saw the brown bear’s actions as flawed and pathetic. Setting aside the fact that most of the brown bears had been killed when their own dragon slayer ally had detonated the wyverns, they had drawn first blood by invading a small county in the countryside. Where did they find the gall to seek vengeance? Why were the aggressors blaming the defenders? Were the residents of Henituse territory supposed to just roll over and die like the enemy wished?
In the grisly maelstrom of war, some lived and some died. Choi Han didn’t want to show any pity or compassion on such a battlefield. He wanted to protect his allies and his family, even if that meant staining his own hands with more blood than anyone else.
Thrummm. As if responding to his thoughts, Chou Han’s black aura—still one step away from achieving perfect darkness—fired out of his sword again. The tip of his aura zipped toward the enemy.
Cale’s order had to be fulfilled. There were still plenty of targets to destroy. Choi Han pushed off the ground and shot forward.
The people along the castle wall watched him in stunned silence. The sight of Choi Han in action had left Karo’s sole mage at the southern tower at a loss for words.
Is this the true power of a swordmaster?
Choi Han’s overwhelming strength made the mage’s hands shake. Her attention shifted toward the central and northern towers. She honed in on the latter, where Duke Huiten, the Empire’s swordmaster, was stationed. While she was too far away to see him clearly, she could feel it. He and the others were equally shocked.
Suddenly, the commander’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Please connect the call.”
Reclaiming her senses, the mage looked down at the communication sphere in her hand. Beep. Beep. An urgent call was coming in from Valentino. As she hurried to connect the call, she stole a glance at Rowoon’s representatives. Their apparent acclimatization to this scene gave her shivers from head to toe.
The mage recalled the story of how Rowoon had won an overwhelming victory. Those rumors must have been true.
That means we can do it too!
This time, her hand trembled for a different reason.
At the same time, a small screen appeared on the surface of the communication sphere, revealing the image of Valentino. He seemed to be struggling for words.
“Commander Cale.”
“Did you see it, Your Highness?” Cale asked.
He had seen it, and quite clearly too. It was all Valentino could do to wrench open his mouth and reply, “Even Duke Huiten admitted he would have a hard time lancing a ship through like that. He said most swordmasters have auras of three meters, tops.”
“Choi Han isn’t a typical swordmaster,” Cale said, brimming with confidence. “He’s a hero.”
As Valentino looked at Cale, the weight of war settled on his shoulders.
“There’s no need to worry, Your Highness,” Cale added.
Valentino had initially called the southern tower out of concern, but now he scoffed at himself for becoming so flustered. Finally seeing that Cale spoke to him head-on, he replied, “I leave it to you, Commander.”
“I won’t let you down.”
With a chuckle, Valentino hung up. The mage tucked the communication sphere away before returning her attention to Cale.
The commander then addressed the collected forces at the southern tower. “We’ll survive as long as possible until everyone gets here.”
“Everyone”? The mage seemed confused, but Cale didn’t allow her time to think about it.
“The knights will protect the mages from any attacks. As for the mage brigade…” Cale raised his hand.
“Hrk!” The mage doubled over, rattled by a sudden outpouring of mana. To call it shocking would’ve been an understatement.
The robes of all members of the mage brigade fluttered wildly, while the necklaces previously hidden beneath their garments began to shine.
“Top-grade magic stones!”
Each necklace featured two of these magic jewels, both filled with mana.
Thrummm, thrummm. The massive mana flare created vibrations in the air. The mage from Karo had never felt this much mana at once.
Cale presented her with an item. “This is for you.”
“P-pardon?”
A necklace was draped around her neck—also equipped with a highest-grade magic stone.With a low hum, her necklace responded to the vibration of mana around her.
As the Karo mage peered up at the commander of Rowoon’s northeastern region, he dropped his hand, then pointed toward the enemy. His next order was directed at all the mages, including her.
“Attack.”
The vice-captain of the mage brigade bellowed, “Larocque Five!”
A bestial cry rang out from the southern tower as magic coalesced around the mages’ hands. Their effortless collaboration surprised Karo’s mage even further.
How long did they practice?
It wasn’t easy to gather a crowd’s mana like this. Such a feat would only be possible if the group had worked as a unit day in and day out for at least a year.
I can see why they’re so strong.
The Karo mage clenched the magic stone around her neck. Rowoon had been secretly building their strength without anyone noticing, preparing for a war that they alone had foreseen. The mages’ strength and the number of highest-grade magic stones they possessed attested to their effort.
“Fire!”
At the vice-captain’s command, a fusion of five mana orbs shot forward.
Boooom!
While the rest of Cale’s allies celebrated the sight of another explosion, he alone was lost in thought.He had sold a portion of the highest-grade magic stones in his possession to the crown prince, and those stones had ended up with the mage brigade.
I see they aren’t expensive for nothing… My wallet had a nice day. The thought of the profits he’d earned alleviated the stress of the war somewhat, but Cale didn’t even crack a smile. Strange…
“Since our side won the last round, the Indomitable Alliance will pull a few tricks,” Clope had told him. “If they lose this time, only the final battle remains.”
The “final battle” referred to a clash at Death Canyon. Something about it didn’t sit right with Cale.
‹These guys aren’t so tough, human! The Bear Tribe is strong, but one flap of my wings would blow them away!›
That’s exactly it. The enemy was oddly weak, just as Raon had said.
Boooom!
Cale turned his head toward the northern tower. The Empire appeared to be fighting diligently; they had established a solid defensive formation, while Duke Huiten shot his aura at the bears every so often.
“They’re working hard?”
If the Empire was making a genuine effort, something definitely wasn’t right. They had to be up to something.
Next, Cale checked on the central tower. Three midsize ships had crashed into Castle Leona’s central stronghold; Cale could see the tower’s walls quaking. The three-meter-tall polar bear blocked the Empire’s arrows and magic with his body as he shouted orders at the other bears. “Bwa ha ha ha! Let’s wreck the castle wall! Climb the rubble!”
Karo’s forces were having an understandably difficult time. The Indomitable Alliance was formidable, its army far from incompetent.
Yet they still seem weak somehow.
How strong had they been when they attacked Henituse territory? Their forces then had included wyverns, an aura-wielding swordmaster, and even one of Arm’s Red Stars. Why were only the bears here now?
“Something’s wrong.”
“What was that, sir?”
The knight next to Cale turned to look at him, but Cale was already engrossed in a thorough examination of the battlefield. The soldiers who had disembarked from the carriers were preparing to advance with the knights. Meanwhile, many small and midsize ships still lingered at the shore, with berserk bears yelling from their decks. Cale assumed those ships must have wheels as well.
Only about a hundred vessels had charged the castle. Cale inspected the ships in the vanguard—which had either crashed into the walls or stopped to prepare for a siege—then the small ships rolling up from the rear. Those small ships were advancing at breakneck speeds.
Boooom!
At the sound of another ship being blasted to pieces near the southern tower, Cale looked to see all the brown bears careening in Choi Han’s direction. That same moment, the mages managed to destroy another ship with a mana orb. Cale could see the vessel’s broken fragments glinting in the scarlet glow of sunset.
Realization crashed over him. “There’s nothing on those ships!”
“Sir?” the knight prompted, but Cale didn’t elaborate, his expression grim. The midsize ships carried no cargo apart from the bears themselves.
That doesn’t make sense. Why would they waste their ships?
Taking a closer look at the small ships hurtling toward them at ever-increasing speeds, Cale noticed something else: There were no bears on those ships, only soldiers. As soon as Cale’s gaze landed on those soldiers, Raon’s voice echoed in his head.
‹Weak human, those soldiers are crying. They’re shaking in their boots!›
Cale peered at the enemy soldiers manning the small ships. Each vessel had less than five soldiers aboard, but every last one of them was weeping. Why?
“Damn it!”
He found the answer he was looking for. Those ships were carrying something else—most likely a bomb.
“Communication sphere!” Cale barked at Karo’s mage.
“Sorry?”
“Connect me to Prince Valentino, right now!”
The small ships were almost upon them.
As the mage frantically scrambled to connect the call, someone bellowed from afar, “Groooar! Attack!” It was the polar bear. “I want the castle wall destroyed before nightfall!”
The bears in the vanguard hyped themselves up with a collective roar before they then all began to charge the towers. The small ships picked up speed yet again, rushing toward Castle Leona even faster than before.
“Groooar!”
“Die! This is revenge for our tribe!”
The bears who had previously only sought to impede Choi Han went in for the kill. Choi Han adjusted his grip on his sword, the look in his eyes growing even colder. He planned to dispose of them all at once before the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.
Then it clicked for him.
“What the…?”
Choi Han was baffled—they were running away. The bears had seemed ready to throttle him, then abruptly turned tail and fled.
A voice amplified by magic resounded through every corner of Castle Leona. “Everybody dodge!” Cale shouted. “They have magic bombs!”
Bombs? Choi Han whipped toward the small ships hurtling in their direction, a stark contrast to the retreating bears. Could they have…?
As that thought entered his head, he felt his body float upward. Raon’s voice echoed in his mind. ‹The human is worried about you, Choi Han, so I’m pulling you out.›
From the sky, Choi Han watched the small ships forge ahead beneath him. The enemy soldiers on board quivered in fear as they raced toward the castle walls.
Atop those very walls, Cale cried out, “Shield!”
The mages promptly activated their magic shields, and the video call connected at last.
“Commander!” Valentino burst out. “What do you mean, magic bombs?! Are you saying those small ships are all armed with explosives?”
After all, who would buy that the enemy had installed magic bombs on ships carrying their own soldiers?
“We don’t have much time,” Cale said curtly.
“I…understand.”
With that, the call disconnected.
Shields winked to life on the central and northern towers as well, but Cale’s expression remained dark. It wasn’t enough. The shields couldn’t hope to defend against dozens of ships packed with bombs.
A magically amplified order issued from the central tower. “Destroy those ships before they reach the walls!”
Magic attacks shot out from the central tower and battered the encroaching fleet. While Karo’s mages couldn’t intercept all the ships, they managed to wreck some of them.
Boooom!
“Aaahhh!”
“Aiieee!”
Screams tore from the enemy soldiers as their ships exploded.
Watching this unfold, Cale rattled off another command. “We can’t pick off all of the enemy ships. Fortify our shields and stop them before they reach the w—”
He stopped short.
‹Human,› said Raon, ‹I smell magic bombs…and something else.›
Boooom!
Another small ship was obliterated by Karo’s magic. The ships following in its wake ignored the destruction and barreled onward; Karo’s assault, however, had reached a standstill.
‹I know that smell. It’s the stench of dead mana.›
With each explosion, black fluid splashed into the air, rained down, and seeped into the ground below.
“Those crazy bastards.”
Cale jerked his head toward the north. A robust shield surrounded the Empire’s tower.
Those damn imperial lunatics!
These were dead mana bombs created by the Alchemist’s Bell Tower—and those bombs were being used by the Indomitable Alliance.
Once again, Cale recalled Clope’s prediction: “The Indomitable Alliance will definitely do something.” Were these dead mana bombs the “something” Clope had warned him about? Was the Indomitable Alliance so desperate for victory that they were willing to use a weapon that would turn the world against them?
“Aaahhh!”
“Eek!”
Cale’s features twisted in a grimace. He could see the enemy soldiers dying, either caught in the bombs’ explosions or succumbing to dead mana poisoning.
Even if they do level Castle Leona with these bombs, their own military won’t be able to traverse the resulting dead mana zone either. What are they planning?
That instant, two long horn blasts sounded from the ocean. The enemy soldiers filed back onto their ships, two of which had already set sail.
“Ha… Ha ha…” Disbelieving laughter spilled from Cale’s mouth. He immediately understood what was going on: The enemy fleet was returning to the sea.
They’re heading for the northern shores.
The core of Karo’s forces was gathered at Castle Leona. If the enemy spread dead mana around the area and then ran away, what would happen? Castle Leona would be effectively neutralized. Not only would the dead mana tainting the shoreline prevent Karo’s forces from chasing after the retreating bears, but they would no longer be able to make their stand here. Even if the hundreds of ships comprising the Indomitable Alliance’s fleet were to head to sea, Karo and its allies would be too busy struggling to contain the dead mana bombs to stop them. The Indomitable Alliance would use that window of time to sail for the northern shores.
In that scenario, who would reach the northern shores faster: the Indomitable Alliance’s fleet or Karo’s confederation, which first needed to deal with the dead mana bombs and make sure their poison didn’t spread?
While there were some troops stationed along the northern shoreline, their numbers were negligible. Furthermore, it was home to citizens of Karo as well as a plenitude of trade resources.
Cale had finally figured out what the Indomitable Alliance was planning.
“C-Commander, it’s dead mana!” the knight from Karo cried desperately. “I’m sure of it!”
The knight stared at the approaching small ships in despair before turning his eyes toward the castle’s shields. The southern tower’s shield seemed sturdy enough to repel the dead mana, and the northern tower’s shield appeared similarly resilient.
But what about our kingdom? Karo’s mages weren’t as strong as those from Rowoon or the Mogor Empire; the central tower’s shield was weak. What should we do?
As the knight panicked, Commander Cale said bluntly, “Those sly assholes.” His voice reached the few soldiers manning the southern tower. “Don’t worry.”
The troops looked to their commander in surprise. Though the small ships were still rushing toward them, they had no attention to spare for the oncoming fleet—a silver glow had appeared. As they watched, that silvery shape expanded, enveloping first the southern tower, then the central and northern towers in turn. At last, a pair of silver wings unfurled, revealing an enormous shield: the same silver shield they’d heard so much about.
An additional sheen overlaid the shield. ‹Don’t worry, weak human!› Raon said. ‹I can create a silver shield too! We can protect everyone!›
The soldiers stationed at the southern tower found themselves remembering what Vice-Captain Hilsmann had said before the battle: “The shield won’t break.”
Boom, boom, boom!
A cacophony of deafening blasts filled the vicinity. The small ships detonated, launching dead mana at the silver shield like a volley of poisonous rain. Everyone along the wall gaped as the black wave crashed toward them through the explosive tumult.
Valentino watched the inky downpour, terror gripping his heart. If dead mana covered the landscape…nothing could grow in such contaminated earth. Any soldier who so much as touched that toxic substance would drop dead.
Even so, he began, “Our shield…”
Dozens of small ships smashed into the shield. Boom, boooom!
The ground beneath the castle walls rumbled, but the silver shield did not waver.
“We can deactivate our shield,” Valentino said.
It felt as if a third mountain had emerged in front of Castle Leona—only this mountain took the form of a silver shield, adorned with a heart-shaped crest. That giant barrier stood before the castle and blocked everything the enemy bombs could throw at it. Its light was so strong, it looked as if multiple layers of shields had overlapped.
As one might expect, Raon was keeping up a constant stream of chatter in Cale’s mind. ‹Human, I think I am rather great and mighty after all! I made a four-tier silver shield! The dead mana won’t be able to touch us at all! We’ll save everyone!›
Cale listened to the six-year-old dragon’s bubbly rambling as he activated a faint shield of his own within Raon’s formidable barrier. Since the silver shield Cale had created needed to cover a vast area this time, it wasn’t particularly durable. The Unbreakable Shield had grown stronger than before, but it lacked the power to defend the entire fortress; Castle Leona was at least two and a half times larger than Henituse Castle.
Dragons really are the best, Cale reflected. Thanks to Raon’s four-tiered silver fortification, Cale’s shield could shine brighter than ever.
The Indomitable Alliance and the imperial bastards had prepared three times the explosive power they had used in the battle for Henituse territory. Unlike Sirem, whose Sword of Disasters had struck Cale’s shield at a single point, they planned to detonate multiple bombs in numerous locations at once with the expectation that this would be too much for Cale to handle. At the very least, they believed the barrage could trigger a weakness or buy them some time.
Unfortunately for them, Cale had a young dragon in his party whose strength couldn’t be matched by anything less than a dragon slayer. With a smug smile on his face, Cale thought, Those assholes are clueless.
With no idea what was going on, Crown Prince Valentino seesawed between relief and fear. Heroes are people who change history, he mused. Cale had told Valentino that he’d brought heroes with him to Karo. Only those individuals whose triumphs changed the course of the continent could be truly called “heroes”—but what did that make the person who led those heroes?
“Your Highness!”
The sound of his general calling for him jolted Valentino back to his senses. “Go find the priests with light affinity immediately!” he shouted. “Make sure you get every single one of them!”
The enemy was on the run after flooding the land with dead mana. To pursue them, Karo’s confederation needed to clear a small path through the noxious area. For that, they required the strength of the churches associated with light—especially the Church of the God of Sun. The church had demonstrated the “path of the sun,” a passage formed from divine power, in the past when they exterminated the necromancers. That was exactly what Karo needed right now.
Like Cale, the crown prince had realized the truth. It wasn’t hard to decipher the enemy’s true intentions; Valentino could tell that they weren’t retreating from battle but were instead aiming for the northern shoreline. Karo couldn’t let the enemy escape; they needed to prevent the Indomitable Alliance from reaching the northern shores. Or, if they couldn’t stop them, at least hold them back for as long as possible.
Boom. Boom. The rumbling died down as the explosions came to an end, and the silver shield began to dim.
“Oh,” the crown prince muttered unwittingly.
“Gaaah!”
“Aaahhh!”
The central coastline was dyed the color of pitch. A sticky, dark sludge covered the area, as if a black swamp had manifested. Above that swamp were hunks of the destroyed ships as well as the enemy soldiers dying from the explosions and mana poisoning.
“Th-this is a nightmare…”
Valentino directed his gaze back toward the ledge of the castle wall to see a youthful soldier racked by tremors, muttering to himself that this was all a bad dream. Because Karo had enacted an emergency draft, some of the troops were no older than fifteen. This sight introduced them to the true despair of war.
Faced with the Indomitable Alliance’s willingness to abandon their own soldiers for the sake of killing others, Valentino shuddered in horror. Those cruel bastards… Must I send my soldiers to their deaths if I want to win?
Valentino was also experiencing his first battle. Nevertheless, he was the crown prince; he had no choice but to get a grip. The same went for the rest of the kingdom’s leadership by his side. They needed to fight to avoid that dismal fate.
“Your Highness,” the chief officer beside him said, “we cannot let the enemy go.”
Dozens of ships had already weighed anchor, while bears, soldiers, and knights were rushing aboard the remaining vessels to prepare for departure.
Karo’s commander chimed in, “We need to hurry. We’ll be hard-pressed to get past the debris and the enemy troops even if the priests do manage to clear out the dead mana.”
The commander was correct. While the dead mana was an obstacle, wreckage from the destroyed ships and enemy soldiers also barred their way.
“Get me a priest! No, call the bishop, now!” As Valentino searched for the bishop, he instructed the communication mage, “Connect me to the northern and southern towers!”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
At that moment, Valentino heard a group of people walking up the stone stairs. When he saw who they were, his face lit up—they were the very people he sought. The priests with light affinities assigned to Castle Leona were approaching, led by the bishop of the Church of the God of Sun. Even the bishop, who had angered Valentino during the strategy meeting, was a sight for sore eyes.
Valentino hurried to greet him. “Bishop!”
“Your Highness.” The bishop offered Valentino a placid bow, but Valentino had no time for such formalities. He grabbed the bishop by the shoulders, speaking rapidly.
“Please create a path through the dead mana. I heard it was possible for priests with affinity for light. I beg of you!”
“Of course we’ll clear the dead mana. It’s filthy, after all.”
The bishop’s smooth response made the crown prince feel that he could be relied upon, at least for the moment.
It was said that when the Church of the God of Sun set out to rid the world of necromancers, they had produced a passageway known as the “path of the sun,” which crossed over land infested with dead mana. The holy knights had followed that passage to their final battle with the necromancers.
Just then, one of the communication spheres connected. “Your Highness?”
“Ah, Duke Huiten!”
Duke Huiten of the Mogor Empire—the person in charge of the northern tower—had answered the call first. “I’m glad everyone is safe.”
After a moment of gratitude, Valentino rushed on, “The priests will clear a path through the dead mana shortly. I will need your help. We cannot let the Indomitable Alliance go.”
“As you wi—”
“But, Your Highness,” the bishop cut in, interrupting the duke.
“What?”
“It will take at least one month.”
“…What?” Only then did Valentino register the awkward lilt in the bishop’s gentle smile.
“We will need more reinforcements from back home to purify all this dead mana. It will also require a great deal of preparation, which will take one month at minimum.”
“You’re saying you can’t make a path to pursue our enemies right now?”
The bishop cleared his throat. “That is indeed the case.”
Frowning, Valentino replied, “What about the path of the sun?”
“That would require a saint’s assistance.”
A saint? Valentino was temporarily speechless. His eyes darted between the bishop, who avoided his gaze, and the bowed heads of the other priests.
“Divine power burns dead mana, doesn’t it? So shouldn’t it be possible to create a thin passageway with the power of light, at the very least?” Valentino asked, growing desperate. “We only need a small one—the narrowest of paths, just wide enough for our knights to traverse in a single-file line. Isn’t that something you can do? We can only move a few knights using flight magic.”
“Ahem. You see…” The bishop dithered for a moment.
As Valentino wondered what was really going on, he heard Duke Huiten’s voice through the communication device. “They say that when a priest with light affinity uses divine powers to purify dead mana, they feel as if their entire body is on fire.”
“Ah.” Crown Prince Valentino finally understood why the priests were acting this way. The gods didn’t lend their purifying powers to humanity for free; there was a price to pay.
Duke Huiten went on, “Apparently, for the sake of justice, the priests endured the pain to destroy the necromancers. Although none experienced any physical injury or loss of life because of it, many of the priests back then suffered from the side effects until they died.”
The priests in the rear grew grimmer with every sentence. While Valentino and the others observed the priests, none of them noticed the sneer that flashed across the duke’s face.
Cale Henituse’s shield was stronger than we expected, so nobody got hurt. Nonetheless, as long as they prevented Karo’s forces from moving, the operation had fulfilled its purpose. Even Rowoon’s necromancer can’t take care of this alone. The enemies were too numerous for a mage assault by Rowoon or a few knights transported via flight magic to handle.
While Duke Huiten quickly schooled his expression, once again presenting a picture of genuine concern for Karo, the bishop addressed Crown Prince Valentino.
“Ahem! It would be quite difficult to accomplish immediately, but there is a way to purify the dead mana slowly and safely. I ask for your understanding, Your Highness.”
“But if we let the enemy leave, they’ll slaughter the citizens and the merchants up north. And if those ships are equipped with dead mana bombs too”—the distant blare of the enemy’s horns reached Valentino’s ears once again—“our northern lands may be buried under dead mana as well.”
That outcome would be catastrophic.
“Is even a tiny path too difficult?” he pressed. “Since there are so many of you, can’t you share the pain?”
In all honesty, Valentino hoped the priests would be willing to sacrifice just a little. Selfish though it might have been, he wanted them to grit their teeth and push through. After all, Duke Huiten had said it wouldn’t kill them.
Yet the bishop pretended he hadn’t heard. He didn’t want to experience any pain. The enemy’s northern advance would have no consequences for him; why should he be the one to suffer?
“If the northern shores do become infected, we can slowly purify that area as well. Shouldn’t we prioritize preparing for the battle up north as quickly as possible?” the bishop replied. “Oh, and if you decide to abandon Castle Leona and head out, we will need some soldiers to stay behind and help us to complete the purification project, as well as a company of knights to protect the priests during the process.”
The bishop spoke as if the end of Castle Leona’s viability in this war was a foregone conclusion.
Valentino’s expression hardened. “Must you speak so heartlessly now?”
“I have no choice.” The bishop smiled softly. “Only priests with light affinity can complete the purification. Since we are such a precious resource, isn’t it only right that you protect us?”
Although everything the bishop said was technically correct, the crown prince felt as if something was off. There were too many holes in the bishop’s logic; he wasn’t telling the full story. Even so, Valentino couldn’t afford to lash out or punish the priests right now—not while he had no way to counter the dead mana without them.
Bwoooo, bwoooo. To an incessant backdrop of the enemy’s horns, the laughter of the bear from earlier echoed in Valentino’s head like a hallucination. The enemy fleet was moving to escape—no, to lay waste to another target. Could he do nothing but watch them leave, powerless to stop them?
Valentino and Karo’s other leaders wore matching expressions of gloom, resentment seething in their hearts.
Right then, gasps rose from some of the soldiers near the central tower as someone alighted on the castle wall. A handful of callous words reached Valentino’s ears:
“There you go spouting bullshit again.”
The shadows vanished from Valentino’s face. That voice belonged to Commander Cale Henituse, the one who had just landed on the wall.
“Commander!” Valentino called out to Cale, astonished.
With his usual unflappable confidence, Cale approached Valentino. “I felt I should tell you this in person, so I used flight magic to get here right away.”
What had Cale come here to say? All at once, Valentino itched with anticipation. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt as if this man he’d known for only a few days would be able to solve his problems.
Before Valentino could answer Cale, the bishop interjected, “You have some nerve, Commander! Were you addressing us—the only people who can purify the dead mana—when you said ‘bullshit’? You dare to speak to—”
“We’ll catch them.”
The bishop didn’t get a chance to finish his tirade, as Cale’s declaration drowned him out. Following Cale’s example, Valentino surveyed the scene outside the central tower. Over thirty ships had already set sail, heading north as they had expected. The bears had also returned to the shoreline and were boarding the remaining vessels. The situation seemed hopeless.
Cale’s voice reached Valentino’s ears again. “If we don’t stop them, all the residents and merchants to the north will be killed. And I’m certain those ships are carrying more dead mana bombs.”
Everybody else was thinking the same thing; Cale’s statement didn’t seem to shed any light in the cloud of darkness surrounding them. His next words, however, presented a question that no one had heard before.
“Do you know about the people who flee into the Land of Death, Your Highness?”
The Land of Death? As in, the desert? Why had Cale brought that up out of nowhere? Even though Cale had broached a seemingly irrelevant topic, Valentino listened in silence. He didn’t think Cale was the type to speak senselessly.
“They enter Death Desert by choice. The high tax rates in their homelands make day-to-day life so strenuous that they’d rather take their chances in an infamous landscape of no return.”
“What? They go to the Land of Death?” The crown prince raised his voice without meaning to. “And did you say they’re fleeing because of high taxes?” None of them had known anything about this.
A smile rose to Cale’s lips. “Indeed…but there are people who survive in the desert.”
And Mary is one of them, Cale thought, though he didn’t say that part out loud. Mary was no longer a citizen of Karo.
“Those who don’t know how to give up can rise again in the darkness, Your Highness.”
“Commander…”
The concept of stubborn souls without surrender etched deep in the crown prince’s heart. All at once, he understood how Cale had emerged victorious in the northeastern battles.
“We will catch them.” The voice of the commander who refused to surrender rang across the highest point in the central tower. “We’ll bring them down without fail.”
The ground jolted into motion. While Valentino wondered if these were aftershocks from the explosions, the silver shield vanished, leaving the crown prince and Karo’s other leaders with a clear view of the shoreline bathed by the setting sun.
“Huh?”
“That’s…!”
Valentino’s eyes flew open wide. The bears were still boarding the ships docked along the coast, and the horns’ blaring persisted. But now, a different noise entered the mix.
Swish. Swish.
Arrows. Dozens of arrows formed from wind arced toward the bears and ships and landed precisely on target. Bam! The sand along the shoreline sprayed into the sky.
“Aaahhh!”
“Wh-what kind of attack is this?!”
Screams and stunned shouts filled the area, but Valentino’s attention was focused on Commander Cale Henituse—or rather, on the spot Cale was staring at.
Cale’s eyes were trained on the Land of Death.
Valentino picked out hordes of shadows dashing across the desert sand, painted red by the setting sun. Even from this distance, he could tell that these beings had skin the color of black pearls.
Thoughts of a certain race rose unbidden in Valentino’s mind. He had never seen them before, but there was only one group in the Western Continent who fit that description. “Are those…dark elves?”
Eyes lingering on the Land of Death’s blood-red sands, Cale said, “Dead mana is no obstacle.”
Tasha led her kinsfolk across the desert, moving amid a swirl of wind. Arrows made by wind elementals hovered above many of the elves’ heads.
Cale turned toward the people from Karo, as well as Duke Huiten, still projected within the communication sphere’s screen.
“Rowoon’s full forces have finally arrived.” AsCale felt the ground tremble underfoot, he knew it for certain: “The enemy will not escape.”
Thanks to the wind elementals, the dark elves were practically gliding as they whizzed through the desert. They approached Castle Leona, the dark elf in front moving fastest of all. Squish, squish. She stepped through the toxic liquid as if it were a harmless puddle. Nothing could stop her advance—not even dead mana.
Arriving directly beneath the castle wall, she came to a standstill upon flat black ground strewn with wreckage from the enemy ships. Dark fluids drenched her body.
“Commander,” she reported, “everyone has arrived safely!”
Valentino gulped in spite of himself. Dark elves were the rarest of the elves and had been shunned by the Western Continent until this day—though perhaps “shunned” was too mild a term. In actuality, they were despised. It was well known that dark elves lived in close proximity to burial grounds. Though they didn’t harm anyone, the fact that they dwelled in such dark places made people wary of them.
Are they part of Rowoon’s—no, Commander Cale’s party? Thinking of the necromancer as well, Valentino saw Cale in a different light. The man seemed like quite a fearsome individual. He’s scary.
It wasn’t that Cale was evil; in fact, the commander was a good person. Even so, the power of goodness without prejudice unnerved the crown prince.
Of course, Valentino had no idea that these dark elves were the same ones who lived beneath the Land of Death. He was merely amazed by Cale’s reach—and by extension, Rowoon’s—not to mention their resolve. Over the course of this war, they kept rolling out one loathed entity after another.
“Your Highness?”
Valentino met Cale’s assertive gaze. “Yes, Commander?”
“May we launch our offensive?”
Cale spoke of an offensive! That was leagues better than the defensive measures Valentino had previously thought a stretch. A slow smile formed on the prince’s face. “Why ask my permission? Didn’t I say it earlier?”
Valentino recalled what he had told Cale before the battle: “I leave it to you, Commander.”
“I won’t let you down.”
Cale was trustworthy.
As Valentino listened to the orders Cale gave to the dark elves, he felt equally thankful to Rowoon’s crown prince, Albert. Rowoon had indeed sent their very best to Karo’s aid.
“Don’t let any of our foes escape. Capture every single one of them.”
The dark elves gave no reply, letting their actions speak for themselves. Approximately a hundred dark elves—a force comparable to a large company of knights—swept into motion, wreaking havoc outside Castle Leona.
Fire, water, earth, and wind—elementals of all different varieties lent the dark elves their powers. Arrows of flame shot toward the shoreline, while water bombs catapulted at the bears’ heads. The ground shuddered, seizing the enemy soldiers’ ankles as they approached the ships.
The most outstanding dark elf was the group’s leader, Tasha. She raised her voice. “Don’t let any of them get away!”
The wind roaring around her outclassed any other dark elf’s gale. Numerous wind arrows close to two meters in length fired into the air and zipped toward the vessels at the central shore.
Boooom!
The deck of a large ship splintered.
“Aaaahhh!”
“Gaaah!”
The bears screamed, gaping at the pulverized deck and the dark elves in naked shock.
“What the…? Dark elves? They still exist on the Western Continent?!”
“Why are they showing up out of nowhere?”
“Did the humans team up with the dark elves?”
Several of the bears and soldiers shouted over one another in confusion, flummoxed by the unexpected arrival. Suddenly, a loud voice roared, “All of you, shut up!”
An animalistic growl punctuated the admonition. The Indomitable Alliance troops snapped to their senses and turned toward the source: the polar bear. The nearly three-meter behemoth stepped forward.
“We will proceed as planned!” he bellowed. “Mages, activate your shields and defend against the dark elves’ attacks! Bear warriors, come forward!”
As the polar bear’s stern commands quelled the chaos, he bared his teeth in a grin. Madness could act as an antidote for mayhem.
Feigning mania, the polar bear kept up his yelling. “We’ll slaughter the dark elves the moment they step out of the dead mana zone! Rip them to shreds! This’ll be my first time killing a dark elf—it sounds fun! Bwa ha ha ha ha!”
The other bears laughed along with him. Dark elves? So what? The creatures might have been known for their strength, but bears in their berserk states were powerful in their own right. And the bears standing near the ships outnumbered the dark elves almost two to one. They had nothing to fear. No, the dark elves should be afraid of them!
The polar bear raised his voice again. “If you dark elves value your lives, don’t you dare take another step! Our claws will tear you to shreds as soon as you leave the dead mana zone!”
At that precise moment, the dark elves running out of the dead mana zone paused in their charge for the shoreline. The soldiers promptly resumed boarding the ships, while the bears’ toothy sneers grew wider. Their preparations were almost finished; hundreds of ships were ready to depart.
The dark elves held their position, slowly turning their heads toward Castle Leona. Their bewildered leader, Tasha, mumbled to herself where she stood.
“Are they all idiots?” Tasha tilted her head, aghast. She thought bears were supposed to be shrewd, but would a shrewd person really say something like that? “Or maybe it’s just him…”
The wind fluttered around her, amplifying her voice so everyone could hear her next command: “Drench yourselves!”
The bears froze.
Boom. Boom. Boom! The dark elves stomped their feet. Tasha’s wind rushed past them, sending the dead mana splashing up from the ground. As black liquid coated the dark elves’ bodies, their eyes shone through the sludge more brightly than ever. Raw power coursed through their veins.
Tasha grinned. “I think I like this battlefield.”
Their surroundings were covered in dead mana, a substance as rare as it was precious. The dark elves could ask for no better conditions to run wild. Tasha peered around at her kinsfolk, dripping with dead mana.
The enemy had no idea how terrifying the dark elves truly were. There was a reason they survived no matter how the world rejected them: They had the power to thrive in environments where no other races could.
With a smile for the ignorant enemy, Tasha’s lips formed one word: “Attack!”
The instant her order fell, the drenched dark elves charged the shoreline, accompanied by elementals. If the enemy didn’t wish to perish at the hands of the elementals or dead mana poisoning, they had no choice but to run.
The bears hesitated.
“Shit.”
“If they’re coming at us covered in dead mana, we can’t counterattack!”
Meanwhile, the Indomitable Alliance’s knights urged on the few remaining soldiers.
“Hurry up and board the ships! On the double!”
“Move it!”
The crew members likewise scurried aboard and prepared to escape. In the soldiers’ eyes, the dark elves coming at them looked like devils. Fear gripped their hearts. They started shoving each other out of the way, trying to scramble onto the ships even a second faster. It was their only chance at making it through this alive.
Valentino and Karo’s head general noticed the horror on the enemy’s faces. As their eyes met, Valentino cried out, “Mages, ready your spells! Aim for their ships!”
They wouldn’t need to send their knights over with flight magic; the dark elves were doing much more than the knights ever could. The dark elves would pin the bears at the coast and attack the fleet. Karo’s forces would use magic to do the same where possible.
Feeling a rumble under the castle wall, Valentino moved toward Cale. Though he knew it was shameless, he wanted to ask Cale to deploy his shield in case the enemy attacked while the mages were focused on offense. When he reached Cale’s position on the ledge, he whispered, “May I ask you to activate your shield, Commander Cale? That way, the mages can focus on their volleys.”
As the words left his mouth, Valentino belatedly realized that Cale looked quite pale. He knew Cale coughed up blood and suffered with every use of his Ancient Power; beyond the information about the shield, that was the first thing he’d learned when he investigated Cale.
In truth, Cale was fine. His complexion just happened to be light; he wasn’t especially pale, only a bit peckish.
‹Are you hungry, human? Should I sneak you some apple pie?›
Deferring Raon’s question for the moment, Cale looked at Valentino. His calm regard made Valentino feel apologetic but also thankful—thankful that Rowoon’s people were willing to sacrifice themselves even when Karo’s own priests weren’t.
Then Cale said, “I don’t think I can summon the shield.”
“What?”
“It would be too taxing…”
Valentino heaved a sigh. I guess he’s overextended himself already… Never mind. I can’t have the commander faint after using an Ancient Power.
Commander Cale needed to endure. The soldiers hadn’t forgotten the silver shield yet; thanks to that, they could overcome their fear of the dead mana.
Valentino offered him an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask you for—”
“I still have chaos to stir up, after all.”
“What did you say?” The dark elves weren’t the end of it? Was there more?
The smirk on Cale’s face made Valentino’s heart race anew.
“Commander, what do you plan to do?”
“Catch them, like I promised,” Cale replied with complete self-assurance. He was going to capture the ships.
But how?
Just as Valentino was about to ask that question…
Kssht, kssht.
The crackling came from the second video communication device, which had yet to connect until this moment. The call to the southern tower had gone through at last. Valentino saw a person’s face appear on the screen—or rather, he saw the black robe shrouding her face.
Cale spoke first. “Mary.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go ahead and get started.”
“Understood.”
Valentino stared at Cale. Offering him a smile, Cale explained, “In a sea of dead mana, there’s no one stronger than a necromancer.”
A flurry of chills racked Valentino’s body. The enemy had used dead mana to dismantle Karo’s defenses, but now the situation had turned on its head.
Thrummm. Thrummm.
Valentino’s gaze fell to his feet. The rumbling had persisted for a while now. He initially assumed it was due to aftershocks from the magic bombs…but was that really the case?
He whirled toward Cale. Or maybe…!
Gasps rose up among Karo’s soldiers and knights, who peered down at the base of the southern tower.
Crack, crack!
The ground, still saturated with black muck, wriggled and thrashed.
The young soldier at the southern tower kept his eyes on the necromancer. Black light poured from her sleeves, and the earth roiled as if in answer to that eerie glow. With a gulp, the soldier peered down at the black swamp under the castle wall.
Did the people from Rowoon plant something there? Was all that digging earlier for the necromancer’s sake?
At last, white objects began to clamber out of the swamp—yes, “clamber” was the appropriate term. The ground had opened up, the sacks buried beneath rising toward the surface. They tore open, their contents emerging atop the dead mana.
They were bones.
Hundreds—no, thousands of pure-white bones dragged themselves out of the earth. Even the bones buried beneath the debris burst through to the surface.
“N-no way!” Valentino clung to the ledge, gaping at the base of the southern tower.
Creak, creak. As if tugged by a black spider’s thread, the thousands of bones that had crawled up from underground came together, becoming whole again. Dancing to the whims of the black strings, the white bones assembled into different forms.
The first was a large, clawed foot. Next came the body and the head. Finally, the remaining bones formed a pair of wings—enormous wings.
Once the bones finished converging, two undead monsters with broad wingspans had manifested.
Valentino whipped his head back toward Cale. He recognized these monsters as the ones that had attacked Henituse territory. “Wyverns!”
As he watched Cale acknowledge his epiphany with a smile, Valentino heard the sound of something cutting through the wind. He looked up to see the two huge wyverns launching into the sky. These wyverns had exploded because of the dragon slayer, but not all of them had turned to dust; their sturdy bones had remained.
Why would I waste them? Cale had collected all of those wyvern bones and handed the lot over to Mary, who worked on them while she watched over Clope in the underground prison. The fruit of her labor now manifested before him.
“Commander Cale…”
Seeing Valentino at a loss for words, Cale opened his mouth to reply—but Mary spoke through the communication sphere, beating him to it. “I am reinforcing them.”
Reinforcing them? Cale’s expression changed; he hadn’t heard about this before either. What did she mean?
The two wyverns plunged down into the black swamp. Boom, boom! Their white bones struck an eye-catching contrast with the oily bog, but the distinction disappeared in an instant as the black liquid seeped out of the ground.
Catching on, Cale burst out laughing. “Ha ha ha!”
As the two wyverns absorbed the dead mana, their skeletons darkened to resemble the black bone dragon that had defended Henituse territory. They now looked like two smaller versions of that monstrous beast.
‹Our Mary really is amazing,› Raon enthused.
Indeed. She’s incredible.
As Valentino watched the proceedings with a blank face, Cale’s voice carried to his ears. “I guess we won’t need any purification after all.”
Mary had seized the opportunity to grow even stronger; the necromancer was absorbing all the toxic mana herself.
Cale addressed Mary through the communication sphere, knowing she would understand. “Come.”
What’s he saying? Valentino wondered. Before the crown prince had a chance to voice his confusion, Cale spoke again.
“Let’s go, Choi Han.”
“Yes, sir.”
When Valentino saw the swordmaster jump from behind the black-robed necromancer and land on the castle wall, a thought occurred to him. Wait.
He spun back toward Cale, who was already standing at the ledge. “Commander Cale, are you—”
Valentino’s question died in his throat as a black bone wyvern approached the ledge and bowed its head. Cale stepped right onto the wyvern’s skull, walked along its spine, and came to a stop on its back. The wyvern’s wings pumped up and down.
“I’ll be back, Your Highness.”
With that, Cale flew off. Choi Han’s wyvern mount approached him a moment later, whisking him away.
The swordmaster wore a complicated expression. “Mr. Cale…”
Cale knew why. This isn’t what we planned.
The original plan called for Vice-Captain Hilsmann to ride the second wyvern. Choi Han and Hilsmann would then bombard the Indomitable Alliance from the sky. Now that the situation had changed, however, Cale had to come personally.
“Choi Han, your job from this point forward is to protect me. Block any and all magic or other attacks directed my way.”
Choi Han didn’t respond, instead looking down at Cale’s hand—or more specifically, at the vortex swirling atop Cale’s palm. A power fierce enough to put Tasha’s wind arrows to shame seemed ready to erupt at any moment.
The Sound of the Wind was churning around Cale.
Choi Han raised his head and met Cale’s eyes. “I’m going to create whirlpools in the ocean,” Cale told him. “The enemy won’t be able to escape. Got it?”
The path out to the ocean… Cale intended to cut off the enemy’s escape route.
Choi Han’s demeanor shifted. “Yes, sir. Understood.”
The two wyverns flew toward the ocean. Choi Han’s wyvern took the lead, as if guarding its companion. Cale glided behind him, his eyes on the coastline below.
This could get annoying, Cale thought, glancing at the Sound of the Wind in his palm. If I reveal another Ancient Power, people won’t leave me alone. They’re already making a huge fuss about the shield. What if I show them this one and they keep nagging me to do things for them?
If that happened, where would it all end? He was already a military commander.
Cale recalled the constant hustle and bustle of his life as Kim Roksu, when aches and pains dominated his days. Even after he became a team leader, nothing changed; he still had to work himself to the bone.
Fear sank its claws into Cale’s heart. He felt as if the slacker life he dreamed of was floating farther and farther away.
But it’s not like I can turn back now. Is there no other way?
Just as Cale’s mouth was twisting into a frown, he and Choi Han heard the invisible Raon’s voice. “I’ll do it too, weak human! My whirlpools will be ginormous! Let’s save everyone!”
The word “ginormous” lingered in Cale’s mind. He’d hidden his abilities from Rowoon’s troops during the last operation, thanks to the presence of the mist. Since someone else in his party had created it, he had brushed it aside.
“Mr. Cale.”
Cale turned his attention to Choi Han’s back. “What?”
“Are you trying to decide whether to expose another one of your powers?”
Wow. He’s smart.
“As far as I can tell, you’ve been doing your best to keep your other Ancient Powers under wraps.”
“You’re right. That’s exactly it,” Cale confirmed, amazed by Choi Han’s perceptiveness. In an offhanded tone, he added, “The idea of revealing them scares me.”
His greatest fear was that he wouldn’t have time to kick back and relax. The thought of his idealized layabout lifestyle disappearing terrified him more than anything else.
“Human.”
“Hm?”
Cale felt a stubby paw patting him on the shoulder, though he couldn’t see a thing.“Don’t worry. You don’t need to be scared. I am rather great and mighty, you know!”
What? Cale’s confusion was plain on his face.
Beyond his line of sight, Choi Han’s mouth flapped open and closed without a sound. It scares him? He’d never expected Cale to say such a thing. When he considered why Cale would reveal his insecurities so openly in front of Raon and himself, the answer had him speechless: It was probably because the two of them were the strongest.
After a lengthy pause, Choi Han said, “There are times when I get scared too.”
Although winter’s ending meant the wind had lost its frigid edge, the air brushing past Choi Han carried a sharp chill.
“But as long as we’re together, I think everything will be fine. I’ll be sure to protect you.”
Cale went slack-jawed in astonishment. What the hell is he talking about? Why would he protect my slacker ambitions?
“And if you’d rather not reveal another Ancient Power, I’ll do what I can to stop the ships myself,” Choi Han added.
“I’m not planning to show off any other Ancient Powers, though.”
“What?” Choi Han blurted out, twisting around.
While the Sound of the Wind continued to swirl around Cale’s left hand, a strand of silver light also emanated from his palm. Choi Han could see a smile on Cale’s face.
Raon peered at Cale as well. “Human, why are you smiling like that again?”
As the two wyverns stopped in midair, hovering over the ocean a bit ahead of the enemy fleet, Cale shared his idea. He’d use both abilities simultaneously. “I just need to make people believe it’s all one power.”
Cale observed the fleet below. The enemy troops gaped up at the two undead wyverns, while mages emerged abovedeck. Cale remembered something else the not-quite-sane Clope had told him:
“Two of Arm’s Red Stars are mages. One is an old man, while the other is young. The young one looks a bit dopey, and he only seems to be good at offensive magic.”
With the fleet still advancing, the Indomitable Alliance mages standing on deck created magic circles in the air. Their myriad patterns suggested the mages were preparing a plethora of different spells.
“Choi Han.”
“Yes, sir?”
Cale tapped his wyvern’s neck to urge it forward. As he glided past Choi Han, he said, “The greatest defense is a strong offense.”
At that moment, Cale felt a vibration from below.
“Shoot more magic!”
“Attack level one!”
The mages’ spells launched into the sky.
“Got it.”Drawing his sword with a shiiing, Choi Han whispered to the black skeleton, “Let’s do this, Mary.”
With a wave of Mary’s hand, Choi Han’s wyvern swooped into a dive. A black aura coalesced at the tip of his sword—and an instant later, that aura clashed with the magic attacks.
Boooom!
“Keep up the bombardment! Ramp up the attacks! Don’t let him get close!”
Choi Han continued his descent, undeterred. Another attack exploded as it collided with the tip of his sword, and the wyvern changed course. Boooom! With each detonation, Choi Han headed for the next attack. When he raised his head, he saw dozens of magic projectiles surrounding him.
The ship had a magic stone aboard. Though Choi Han didn’t know the stone’s grade, its presence did make the mages more powerful than usual—but not enough to kill him.
Choi Han grinned. As long as his life wasn’t at risk, the rest didn’t matter.
With a piercing screech, Choi Han’s wyvern spread its wings wide as if to block the magic attacks flying toward him. Choi Han sensed Mary’s intentions behind the maneuver. “Come on,” he murmured.
The formidable pair who had taken center stage in the battle for Henituse territory were acting in sync once more.
“Do not falter!”
“Fire in waves so he doesn’t have any openings!”
“Bones break eventually!”
Choi Han’s sword pointed unerringly at the barrage of magic attacks from below. Just as his extended black aura struck the volley…
Booooooom!
He went still at the sound. Turning his head, he saw the water roiling wildly as a wave burst forth, something else cutting through the water in its wake.
It was a towering silver wall.
As expected. Choi Han laughed. “Yeah… That’s the kind of man he is.”
The gargantuan obstacle barred the ships’ route to the northern shores. This massive shield had defended Castle Leona from the magic bombs; now it appeared in the middle of the ocean.
“Grab the wheel! Turn the key! Dodge the waves!”
Rough waves rioted as the shield sliced through the water, jolting the enemy ships. The soldiers aboard grabbed whatever they could reach to keep themselves from falling overboard.
“What’s that shield doing here?!”
“He can use his shield like this too?”
“Son of a…! Change directions! Dodge the shield!”
“Turn the mast!”
“Shit, it’s gonna take even longer!”
There was a flurry of flustered shouting on every deck as the immense barrier blocked their way. Having seen the shield’s prowess once already, the enemy fleet scrambled to change course to avoid it.
‹Know why that shield won’t break, Choi Han?› the six-year-old dragon said in Choi Han’s mind. ‹It’s because the kinda sorta great and mighty Raon Mir’s shield is in front of it!›
Another laugh burst from Choi Han’s lips. When he looked down, he saw that the ships veering off-course had yet another problem to contend with.
“Huh? What’s going on?”
“What the hell?!”
A roar rumbled up from the ocean. Choi Han had no doubt that it came from Cale’s and Raon’s whirlpools churning beneath the water’s surface. Those undercurrents sealed the ships’ movements, trapping the enemy between the shield ahead and the whirlpools below.
With companions like these, what did Choi Han have to fear?
“Let’s move.”
“Skreee! Skreeeee!”
The wyvern plunged once again, primed to slam straight into one of the carriers—but it didn’t.
“Shields! Activate the shields!”
Choi Han was right above the ship with the largest magic circle. Before the wyvern could ram into it, his black aura pointed at the deck.
“By the way, Choi Han, that bastard with a screw loose said Arm has their own mage brigade. The north is the land of knights, so most of the mages are probably in Arm’s company. One of the remaining two Red Stars is a mage too. He might be there, so keep your guard up. Clope claims he’s weaker than that dragon slayer, but we can’t trust everything a lunatic tells us.”
That was the truth: Clope couldn’t be trusted. They would’ve been foolish to place blind faith in a former enemy. Yet Choi Han believed in himself and in Mary. That conviction emboldened him to shoot his black aura at the ship carrying the most mages without a second thought.
Choi Han had found his prey.
“Dodge!”
“Activate the shields! All troops, get back inside!”
“Switch to defensive magic circles!”
As chaos reigned abovedeck, Choi Han saw one mage raise his head. The mage’s hood fell, providing a clear view of his face. Though he looked a bit naive and foolish, Choi Han’s intuition told him to look closer.
That must be him! That mage was one of Arm’s Red Stars—Choi Han was certain of it. His aura changed directions, targeting the skinny mage.
The mage’s twiggy finger twitched, and the wyvern jerked to an abrupt halt.
“Mary…?” Suddenly, someone snagged Choi Han by the collar. “Huh?!”
Before he could register what was going on, Choi Han was yanked upward by the neck. His wyvern mount sped off in a different direction.
“That bastard Clope is just a nutcase after all! Totally useless!”
“What?” Choi Han turned his head to see Cale, who had dragged him from the wyvern with shaking arms.
Then he saw what was behind Cale. “Mr. Cale!”
“I know! Damn it!”
Cale’s wyvern opened its large wings and surged into flight, making a beeline for the shield. At the precise instant Cale and Choi Han moved away from that position…
Thrummm.
Something brushed past them with a barely audible hum. Though the noise wasn’t loud, Choi Han felt chills zip down his back.
The sound’s source was a tiny thunderbolt—nothing but a minute crackle of static electricity at first glance. Still, something about it set Choi Han’s nerves buzzing.
“Human!” Raon yelped, leaving Choi Han no time to figure it out. “Th-that bastard isn’t human!”
Who’s he talking about? Choi Han dropped his gaze.
“Clope, you crazy son of a bitch!” Cale swore from above him. “He’s weak? His offensive magic isn’t anything to worry about?!”
Choi Han saw it then. The dopey-looking mage’s features were so gaunt, his jutting cheekbones were visible even from afar. As those bony cheeks tugged up into a smile, Choi Han read the mage’s lips: “Too bad.”
Too bad?
With another crook of the mage’s finger, a shield appeared above the ship. A miniature thunderbolt then struck the shield.
Boooooom!
On impact, the thunderbolt released dozens of mini lightning strikes. The rumble they produced reverberated through the shield and into the sea, a mighty roar far louder than the sound Cale’s shield had made.
“He’s doing that on purpose! Weak human, that mage bastard is staging a demonstration for us to see! He could cancel out his magic, but instead he created that shield just to show off!”
Arm’s mage was showcasing his offensive and defensive prowess. As Choi Han clenched his sword, he heard Raon mumble, “He seems a bit strong… But something’s weird. He’s not completely human.”
He’s not all human?
“I smell a familiar scent on him,” Raon added.
Choi Han craned his neck to look at Cale again. Cale peered down at the mage, his lips pressed in a thin line. The fleet’s navigators were trying their best to redirect their ships, but Cale and Raon’s whirlpools made this task easier said than done.
Cale had no attention to spare for any of that, however; his stare remained focused on the mage. “What’s that jerk saying?” he asked.
“He said he smells a lord,” Choi Han replied.
A lord? The only “lord” Cale thought might fit the bill was a dragon lord. While there was no reason the mage should’ve smelled one of those here, there was a dragon present.
“Is he a dragon?” Cale asked Raon.
“Oh!” Raon replied, surprised. “You’re right, weak human!”
A dragon? Seriously?
Cale’s heart sank. Even if Arm was a formidable organization, could they really count a dragon among the Red Stars serving White Star? Why was an egotistical dragon willing to serve someone else? Had he lost his marbles while blending in with humans?
While Cale wondered if he should call Erhaven, Raon’s clear answer reached his ears, accompanied by the sound of flapping wings. “It’s mixed with a human scent! He’s a half-blood!”
Damn it. Cale supposed it made sense for the antagonists opposing Choi Han and his allies to be at least this powerful.
“I hear that dopey-looking mage’s offensive magic doesn’t hold a candle to the old mage. Our alliance between Rowoon and Faern will win for sure. No one will be able to get in your way.”
So said that bastard Clope. It was Cale’s own fault for believing the self-assured ramblings of a lunatic.
Chapter 48: Don’t Worry
Chapter 48:
Don’t Worry
WEAK?Only good at offensive magic?
Cale scowled. A half-blood dragon… This was his first time meeting such an entity, but his intuition as someone who had read a large number of fantasy novels told him something else: There’s no way a half-blood dragon is weak. A solid number of the main characters or final bosses in fantasy novels were half-blood dragons.
Cale’s expression hardened, and he started barking out orders. “Choi Han, Mary! Again!”
Choi Han found his feet in a flash and kicked off of the wyvern’s back, vaulting into the air. His own wyvern, which had made its escape earlier, returned to support him.
“Raon, strengthen the shield so that bastard can’t run away!”
“All right, human!”
Cale saw the silver shield thickening as he scanned the water. The ships still bobbed along with the roaring ocean, but he noticed something strange.
There’s something else going on here.
After Cale’s shield appeared, the ships docked alongshore hadn’t advanced into deeper waters. Between the barrier and the riotous sea, they couldn’t possibly set sail. And yet, all the carriers from the coastline were on the move. The largest among them surged straight for the shield.
It was as if they’d merely been waiting for the mage. Now that he’d taken the field, they’d found the confidence to fight again.
“Raon, I’ll leave it to you,” Choi Han said.
Cale turned his head. With those parting words to Raon, Choi Han attempted to descend with his mount, but he was forced to change direction.
The dopey-looking mage snapped his fingers a few times. With every snap, a miniature thunderbolt appeared in the air.
Is it an attack? With the mage’s attention fixed on him and Cale, Choi Han couldn’t move carelessly. Even Raon’s presence didn’t alleviate his worries. He warily observed the tiny thunderbolts.
Then his eyes widened. “Huh?”
The thunderbolts were raining down upon the sea.
Boooom! Boooom!
They landed in the ocean between the ships, nimbly dodging the large vessels and entering the water with deafening cracks. The waves kicked up by their strikes dwarfed those that had appeared when Cale’s shield manifested.
“Why is he shooting the thunderbolts into the water?” Choi Han couldn’t hide his confusion. Why was the mage causing trouble for his allies when he could simply attack?
“How dare he!” Raon snarled overhead, voice laced with urgency. “Human!”
Is he calling out to Mr. Cale? Choi Han snapped his head up.
Cale coughed, biting back a moan. He had covered his mouth with both hands, but black blood oozed from his lips.
Though Choi Han couldn’t see the invisible Raon, he could hear the black dragon’s outrage loud and clear. “He broke both our whirlpools with those thunderbolts!”
The bolts had fallen like spears, piercing the whirlpools and destroying them.
The sight of Cale coughing up inky blood without pause chilled Choi Han to the bone. But when Cale met Choi Han’s eyes, his steadfast gaze conveyed a command. He seemed to be saying, Follow my order.
Without a cue from Choi Han, the wyvern descended. Below, Choi Han could see an area where the tiny thunderbolts still struck; the wyvern slowly carried him toward it.
“We should hurry,” Choi Han said quickly.
As if it had been waiting for those words, the wyvern shot toward the mage like an arrow.
Choi Han paid no mind to the thunderbolts pelting down around him; the wyvern and Mary would keep him out of harm’s way. Instead, he flared his aura to the maximum strength he could muster. Light gradually faded away as near-total blackness saturated his sword.
Sword in hand, Choi Han fixed his eyes on the enemy.
“How wonderful!” the mage exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to find such entertainment here. I was getting bored just watching.”
The moment the mage’s voice reached Choi Han’s ears, he sprang from the wyvern’s head. Wham! As he slammed onto the deck where the mage stood, the wyvern took a razor-sharp turn. Its bony mouth opened to reveal wicked fangs.
Crack! The black bone wyvern tore the sail off of the ship next to them. Boom! As the wyvern stomped on the vessel, Choi Han and his black aura rocketed forward.
“What an interesting human!” The mage opened up his arms as if to welcome Choi Han, then flicked his finger.
Something clicked.
Choi Han raised his arm high into the air, then swung his sword in a downward slash. Bang! The black aura crashed against the mage’s small mana orb, but neither burst.
“Ngh!” Choi Han stoked his black aura even more as he pushed against the mana orb, but the orb matched his pressure without conceding an inch.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a human with the power of darkness,” the mage said. “I had no idea your vessel was so big. That boy Sirem’s report was inaccurate.”
The mage made it sound as if the dragon slayer had disappointed him.
He’s a half-blood dragon. Raon’s words echoed in Choi Han’s mind. Yet something about the man didn’t add up. He was strong, but not overwhelmingly so. So why…why can’t my aura move forward?
When Choi Han’s confusion showed on his face, the mage from Arm explained in a jovial tone, “Imperfect darkness cannot defeat perfect light.”
Choi Han took in the mage’s white-gold hair, along with the matching glow of his eyes. The color reminded him of lightning.
Could he be…?
Dragons came in different colors, as he recalled. Each living dragon possessed a unique shade, said to represent that dragon’s innate attribute. A red dragon didn’t necessarily wield fire, however, just as a blue dragon wasn’t necessarily associated with water. The only certainty was that dragons, who lived in solitude for far longer than humans could possibly imagine, presented themselves with distinct hues.
That was what made this mage so strange. I thought Erhaven had that golden color.
The mage eyed him with glee, like he was a cute little toy. “Your darkness isn’t complete yet. You know that, don’t you? But my light is immaculate.” The man snapped his fingers again, and a glow emanated from the mana orb fending off Choi Han’s sword. “You cannot win against me.”
Imperfect darkness was bound to be obliterated by perfect light. Choi Han’s black aura started breaking down before his eyes.
With a smirk at the sight of the brilliant light overtaking Choi Han, the mage took a look around. He didn’t care how many humans died during this fight, even if they were his allies. It was all the same to him.There was nothing he wouldn’t do for the sake of his own amusement, up to and including blowing up his allies with dead mana bombs or twiddling his thumbs when Cale’s shield and the dark elves appeared.
It doesn’t matter as long as I’m having fun.
But things changed as soon as the two wyverns flew over the ocean. When they drew close to him, he couldn’t simply sit back and watch. His senses latched on to a single fact: I smell a superior being.
It was a scent that repulsed him utterly even as it enticed him. Yet the odor was so faint, he couldn’t be certain. It was as if it belonged to a child.
It wouldn’t be like that if a true lord was alive, though.
The one who could have become a dragon lord had already died. A dragon lord’s status wasn’t a trait passed down by blood. It was determined by nature—by the world itself.
Boooom!
When he heard another explosion of light, the mage raised his eyes to see Choi Han being swallowed by the shining orb. How unfortunate. It was a shame to see a highly skilled swordsman get hurt. If only this man had achieved absolute darkness, the mage would have tried to win him over.
However, a smile soon returned to the mage’s face. “Oho.” He immediately shifted backward.
Boooom! The black aura cleaved through the ship’s deck. The swordsman emerged from the wreckage and came after him again.
“You’re still alive!” The mage couldn’t conceal his shock. Though the mana orb didn’t look like much, it contained a pinch of pure light essence. How did he get away from it?
Boooom! As the orb of light-infused mana clashed into the black aura again, the mage gaped openly at Choi Han. Blood seeped from the swordsman’s flesh where the light had scorched him.
“How did you dodge?”
Choi Han ignored the mage’s question. Little by little, the light from the orb—now shaped like a sword—chipped away at Choi Han’s aura.
Boooom! A mana orb erupted once again. Choi Han dodged the explosion by darting forward, his cheeks sizzling as fragments of light landed on his skin. As soon as he escaped the blast radius from the previous mana orb, dozens more materialized before him.
“Can you dodge these too?” The half-blood dragon mage seemed to be enjoying himself. “You’ll have to watch your black aura being eaten away, and in the end, your only choice will be to succumb to despair. How reckless!”
The antithetical natures of their powers aside, Choi Han was also objectively weaker than the mage. He found it fascinating that Choi Han continued to pursue him even though the swordsman should have been well aware of this disparity in strength.
There was something the mage didn’t know, however.
Crackle, crackle. Choi Han grabbed his scabbard. The light that trickled down its surface tore at his palm.
During his time in the Dark Forest, Choi Han had broken down, collapsed, and almost met his end numerous times in his struggle to survive. At long last, he’d clawed his way to a new life. He didn’t care if his black aura was eradicated along with the darkness that gave it form. As long as he didn’t die, nothing else mattered.
“Try this one as well!”
A volley of luminous orbs shot toward Choi Han, reflecting in his eyes as he continued his advance. At that moment, he felt a different power rising out of the water. Though the enemy might have been ignorant, Choi Han knew the source.
The power of an enraged black dragon was shooting out of the ocean.
The churning currents no longer stayed beneath the water’s surface. Raon’s remaining whirlpools—those that hadn’t been destroyed by the thunderbolts—went howling skyward and fused together, the wind twisting into a distinct outline. Choi Han easily recognized the shape the maelstrom mimicked.
A dragon.
The combination of wind and water took on the form of an immense dragon, reminiscent of the black bone dragon that had protected Henituse territory.
As Choi Han acknowledged Raon’s intentions, he felt something blocking his way: the black bone wyvern. The wyvern opened its wings, shielding him from the multitudinous orbs of light.
Boooom! The wyvern’s ebony wings enveloped the radiant spheres as if wrapping them up in an embrace.
Choi Han understood Mary’s rationale clearly. Darkness wasn’t the only thing that stood in opposition to light. Death, the antithesis of life, could also act as light’s foil.
He spun on his heel, turning his back to the mage as he broke into a run. Treating the ship’s ledge as a stepping stone, he leapt into the air and landed on the creature that had lowered its head to receive him—the dragon made of wind and water. Choi Han stood atop that dragon, mana serving as his footholds.
Raon’s voice reverberated in his head. ‹Our human sent me, Choi Han. He told me to help you.›
Some of the black threads holding the bone wyvern together fell away. Snap, snap! The creature was barely keeping its shape.
‹He also had a message for you. He said to catch that bastard!›
This time, Choi Han called forth aura he had yet to control. The raw, unrefined darkness spilled from the tip of his sword like a raging fire, thrashing violently. Back when he crawled through the Dark Forest at the bottom of the food chain, this darkness was his everything.
‹And don’t worry. Even if your darkness isn’t complete yet, we’re still great and mighty together!›
Choi Han’s eyes opened. His face, previously reflecting only kindness, was somehow different. There were many kinds of darkness, and Choi Han’s was born of despair. Since that emotion formed the essence of his power, the darkness within him grew stronger every time he encountered a hopeless situation.
If events had proceeded according to Birth of a Hero, Choi Han would have reached this point far earlier. But after he met Cale, Choi Han learned to hold on to hope and happiness even when things were dire, and his true nature had lain dormant. Now, for the first time since the massacre at Harris, he revealed a glimpse of who he was in the original novel.
The water dragon let out a roar. Magic spells twined over themselves to reach the ocean from the distant shoreline—an attack from their allied mages. Though their magic power couldn’t compare to that of the small thunderbolts, the coordinated assault had enough strength to impale the enemy ships.
“Yeah… We’re unstoppable,” Choi Han said to Raon.
The dragon started to rain chaos over the ocean. His first target was the mage standing on the deck of the ship.
“How peculiar!” The mage laughed, still maintaining his composure. “What smells like a watered-down lord?”
Looking every bit like a valiant dragon knight, Choi Han slashed at the mage once again.
“I thought I only told you to make the whirlpools visible,” said Cale, who had been watching the scene.
“You did! That’s the whirlpool right there! Since dragons are mighty, I shaped it into a dragon!” Because Raon couldn’t reveal himself, he’d shaped his attack on the mage in his own image.
Cale felt the corners of his lips twitching. How am I going to explain that later?
While Cale fell into serious deliberation, an apple pie appeared out of thin air, accompanied by Raon’s voice. “Human, can I use the you-know-what?”
Cale breathed a long, long sigh. Why do I always understand everything he says? He could grasp Raon’s meaning without fail, even if the dragon didn’t come out and say it.
“You said that bastard’s light is perfect?” Cale asked calmly.
“That’s right! But you have something similar. The mage isn’t the only one with a thunderbolt, and yours is purer! Our thunderbolts are better than his, human! Oh, but since it’s hard on you, you don’t need to do anything. I’ll do it instead!”
Cale had a pure light power as well: a fiery thunderbolt purely obsessed with money. The owner of that Ancient Power loved money with such single-minded devotion that it was frankly terrifying.
I can’t let Choi Han or Mary overdo it. Raon can’t reveal himself either.
All the large ships docked along the shore had sailed into the deeper waters by this point. The allied mages’ attacks were limited due to the distance, and the dark elves couldn’t do much out on the open sea; they could only buy time by holding the bears at bay.
For the first time in ages, a familiar voice rang in Cale’s head: “Are you planning to sacrifice yourself?”
“Can I eat this too?”
As the stone guardian and the glutton sounded off in his mind, Cale looked down at his palm. The Fire of Destruction seemed as if it wanted to devour the smaller bolts crackling above the water.
“Are you planning to sacrifice yourself?”
“Hey, can I eat this?”
Ignoring the pair of noisy Ancient Powers, Cale clenched and unclenched his fists.
I’ll use it.
He would use his firebolt. Lightning tended to be much stronger over water, so he needed the Fire of Destruction to destroy the mage’s thunderbolts. He couldn’t simply step back and watch when others were getting hurt.
Crackle, crackle. The fiery thunderbolt whirled fiercely in Cale’s hands. At the same time, a low rumble rolled through the sky above.
Choi Han looked up, but he only saw a clear sky.
‹Choi Han, our human says he’s gonna strike with the fiery thunderbolt. You don’t need to worry, though, since I’ll do it myself. I am rather great and mighty, after all!›
Though the little one’s telepathic babbling could get a little noisy, Choi Han smiled and swung his sword. The black aura sliced through the deck.
“Ha ha ha! I haven’t met a human this fascinating in ages!” The mage with white-gold hair continued to laugh as he danced out of the black aura’s path. He couldn’t help it; he hadn’t seen anybody do something like this in a long time. Even though Choi Han’s body was riddled with injuries, he charged at the mage with bloodshot eyes.
What a chaotic aura! The mage could see the turbulent black aura bursting out in several directions at once, running rampant in defiance of its earlier cool and controlled impression. Yet at the same time, it felt free.
“You’ve been wearing a mask!”
Choi Han had stripped off his facade and reverted to his untamed self, shedding the poised composure of a virtuous knight to become a savage beast in sole pursuit of its prey.
“You think you can beat me?” The mage sneered at the feral creature before him. “How laughable!”
This beast was probably the strongest swordsman humanity had to offer. Because of his immense natural talent, chances were he’d never encountered such an overwhelmingly powerful opponent—or so the mage assumed.
However, Choi Han was no apex predator; he was a weakling. He had been the lowliest life-form in the Dark Forest. To protect himself, he had to dig a hole and hide underground for days at a time, even as his empty stomach clawed at his insides. At times, he was forced to forgo sleep for days on end. No matter the agony, he dared not even groan.
It had nothing to do with winning or losing; it was a matter of life and death. Choi Han needed to survive. If he was to live, his enemy needed to die. It was as simple as that.
“I’m going to kill you.”
Choi Han kicked off the wind-and-water dragon, launching into the air. His black aura transformed into a whirling arrow as both he and his sword shot toward the mage. It was an attack with violent tenacity behind it—one that would seize its target and never let go, regardless of whether they were weak or strong.
“Ha!” With another scoff at Choi Han, the mage dodged.
Boom! Boooom! A split second later, the black aura arrow and the water dragon’s jaws smashed into the spot where the mage had been standing.
“Ahhh! H-help!”
“Run!”
The Indomitable Alliance soldiers aboard the ship scrambled to escape as the vessel tilted to one side, slowly sinking. Unfortunately for them, the mini thunderbolt still hovered above the water’s surface; glowing orbs of lightning mana fired continuously into the sea. The roiling waves muffled the moans coming from the people who leapt into its waters.
The maelstrom of the dragon’s maw snapped at the mage again, and another piece of the deck tore away with a loud boom! The mage had already sprung back into the air, with the water dragon right on his tail. They looked like a pair of snakes coiling together.
Then the black aura joined them, aiming for the mage’s neck.
“So persistent!” The mage’s brow furrowed as his mana orbs proved useless. Though the black bone wyvern was all but decimated, it stubbornly shielded the water dragon from the magic projectiles.
In the midst of glowering at the black bone wyvern, the mage made eye contact with Choi Han.
“Why are you running away?” Choi Han asked.
The mage’s lips quirked in a smile. “Ah, so you noticed.”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Suddenly, Choi Han heard the sound of drums. He realized that the roaring in the sky—the sound of Cale and Raon’s fiery thunderbolt—had faded away, drowned out by the pounding beat.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
It didn’t just come from one ship. The largest vessels in the Indomitable Alliance’s fleet were filled with people beating on drums. These ships had left the shoreline and braved the churning ocean to sail into the silver shield’s vicinity. The drummers arrayed upon their decks were dressed in black outfits with stars adorning their chests.
It was Arm.
Boom. Boom.
Choi Han rose up. As he zoomed into the sky along with the water dragon, he looked down at the site of his battle against the half-blood dragon. He could finally see the full picture: Twenty large ships formed a circle with the sinking ship at the center. The original Indomitable Alliance navigators were nowhere to be found; people wearing Arm’s black uniforms had taken over all of the positions.
Thrummm.
Something else was happening aboard the giant vessels. One by one, lights winked to life on their decks. Their black-clad crewmen were creating magic circles. Twenty such circles, each bolstered by a high-grade magic stone, began discharging magic into the air.
As Choi Han stared down at the score of magical formations, a thought suddenly occurred to him. “No way!”
Were those circles all executing a single magic attack?
The half-blood dragon howled with laughter. “Do you get it now?” Choi Han watched him spread his arms wide. “Behold the power of the human mages I’ve trained!”
“That bastard with a screw loose said Arm has their own mage brigade.”
Recalling what Cale had told him before, Choi Han realized who had assembled that mage brigade. He stomped his foot, making a splash in the water on the top of the water dragon’s head. In doing so, he was essentially asking Raon, I don’t know the first thing about magic, but you get what’s going on, right, Raon?
Choi Han tapped his foot against the dragon’s watery skull a few times before he brandished his sword again. “Let’s go,” he said, hoping Raon would hear him. The water dragon surged into renewed motion.
“You still won’t give up?”
Choi Han saw the half-blood dragon’s taunting sneer, but he remained focused, watching the enemy closely as the water dragon swept forward. The colossal creature sheared through the ocean, churning up a storm of choppy waves in its headlong rush at the mage. The black bone wyvern trailed in its wake.
Laughing, the mage goaded them on with open arms.
Boom. Boom.
The twenty magic circles began to intertwine, fusing into a united formation with the mage standing in their midst. A swarm of shining mana orbs hovered around him.
“I haven’t had this much fun in a long time!” The half-blood dragon welcomed the fledgling beast with a radiant grin. “Come! I’ll kill you all!”
Choi Han kept his eyes trained on the mage as he kicked off of the water dragon’s head and propelled himself into the air. The mage traced Choi Han’s leap with his eyes, his smile widening.
Tat. The black bone wyvern gave Choi Han a boost that sent him arcing over the mage’s head. His black aura curved sharply.
Boooom! A thunderous explosion rocked the large ship where the magic circles were converging. Like a beast opening its jaws, the black aura devoured the vessel’s bow.
The mage scarcely had time to shout “You punks!” before the water dragon struck, loosing a roar that filled Choi Han’s ears.The mage had only relied on snaps of his fingers up until this point, but now he used both hands to cast a series of magic spells. After conjuring a spear made of light to pierce the water dragon’s mouth, he deployed a shield over the ship to prevent the black aura from destroying it further.
“How amusing,” the mage scoffed at Choi Han’s transparent strategy. “But you’re too late.” He snapped in quick succession, producing shields around all twenty ships. Choi Han and the wyvern were unable to break through.
Boom! With one last beat, the drumming ceased, plunging the area into silence.
An ominous feeling pricked at Choi Han’s senses. He soon caught sight of a massive magic circle, tinted purple and radiating with an eerie energy. When he turned, he found a wide smile on the mage’s face. The half-blood dragon’s eyes were cold.
The mage finally broke the silence. “Humans really are so multifaceted,” the man said calmly, pinning Choi Han with his icy gaze. “That’s what makes them so irksome, and so pitiful. Though I suppose it is a bit endearing too.”
Boom! The people on all twenty ships pounded their drums simultaneously. At that precise moment, the threads weaving the twenty magic circles together vibrated with a loud hum. Purple light permeated the area.
Swisssh, swisssh. Within the magic circle, gales of wind rose in a blustery crescendo. The wyvern struggled to fly straight, buffeted about as if caught in a storm.
As Choi Han clung to the wyvern’s neck bone, the mage’s mirth carried to his ears. The man looked as if he wanted to roll over and laugh his heart out.
“Ha ha ha ha! How pathetic. Everyone in that castle is going to die.”
Choi Han whispered to the wyvern’s bones, “Come on, Mary.” Though he had no destination in mind, he kept urging the black bone wyvern—and by extension, Mary—to move. “We need to get out of here!”
But the black bone wyvern was faltering, unable to navigate the rough winds. Its bones were sturdy, but blocking the light projectiles seemed to have drained its power.
Then Choi Han felt a chill above his head. He looked up at the purple sky and saw a violet squall ascending higher into the atmosphere. Gales wrapped around each other like vines, entwining into a single gargantuan orb.
Hwoooosh.
The purple orb howled as if to herald the doom it would unleash on the world.
Boom! Boom! Boom! The pounding of the drums rang out again.
“Ah ha ha ha! Oh, what a thrill! I knew it would be fun to come watch!” The mage turned toward the first person to spark his curiosity in quite some time, watching as Choi Han stared powerlessly at the tempest. Voice gentle, he asked, “What do you think? This is what great magic looks like.”
But a moment later, the mage’s cheer faded. “Hmm?”
Beyond the purple orb and the matching sky, Choi Han could see a tiny light cutting a measured line through the violet expanse. It was a shimmer of red—a color he knew all too well. His lips slowly curled up into a smile.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s great and mighty.”
The water dragon was flying back toward him. ‹You won’t get hurt, Choi Han!› Raon declared in his head. ‹Neither will Mary’s bones!›
The red light flashed in Choi Han’s vision. It was the fiery thunderbolt; he could feel both Cale’s and Raon’s signatures within it. Raon’s tremendous power was especially potent.
The fiery thunderbolt lanced down toward the purple orb.
Splaaash!
Choi Han and the black bone wyvern grabbed hold of the water dragon, practically wrapping their limbs around it. The water dragon wasted no time in soaring away, only stopping when it passed the giant silver shield blocking the enemy fleet. A familiar face greeted Choi Han on the other side.
“Are you okay?” Cale asked mildly. “Here. You should come stick close to the shield too.”
As Cale handed Choi Han a potion, his usual stoic expression in place, the fiery thunderbolt in his other hand caught Choi Han’s attention—as did the fact that he was curled up in a defensive ball. Ignoring Choi Han’s smile, Cale huddled close to Raon’s shield and covered his ears.
Booooooom!
The fiery thunderbolt pierced through the purple orb.
‹I am the magnificent Raon Mir, six years old! I truly am great and mighty!›
Cale thought to himself that dragons were great and mighty beings indeed.
“Are you trying to sacrifice yourself?”
The stone guardian’s imposing voice faded out as abruptly as it came.
Boooooooom! The silver shield—Raon’s silver shield, that is—shuddered fiercely. Cale could feel its violent tremors rattling against his fingertips.
Holy—
He barely managed to bite back a curse. The ocean, the sky, the red thunderbolt, and the purple gale all jumbled together, making it impossible to tell where sky ended and sea began. The howling storm completely obscured his view of the ocean beyond the silver shield.
Swooooooosh. Bang, bang, bang!
The wind had sucked up the seawater and transformed it into a substance akin to hail, battering Raon’s silver barrier as if it meant to swallow that up as well. If this tempest had reached Castle Leona or the central shoreline, the situation would have been dire. Both mountains to either side of Castle Leona would have been demolished, killing countless people in the process.
Cale peeked out past the silver shield, ocean water pelting his head as he squinted through the harsh winds. A vortex of truly epic proportions spun before him. It was so massive that it didn’t seem able to support its bulk.
‹Did you see my strength, human? I did that!›
Cale had only used a very weak version of the Fire of Destruction; Raon’s magic had fueled the majority of the strike. The kid had gotten much stronger ever since his clash with the fake dragon slayer.
“Yes, you are rather grea—ghk!” Cale coughed lightly, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He tasted salt on his lips.
‹Human, you didn’t even use one-third of the strength in my paw. Why are you bleeding? Did I calculate wrong? But that’s impossible! If using a teeny little rat poop’s worth of power still makes you cough up blood, just how weak is your body? You sure are a mystery!›
“I’m fine,” Cale responded, feeling refreshed.
Choi Han and the invisible Raon wore matching frowns. Cale, on the other hand, now had a decent understanding of his Ancient Powers’ side effects.
The Unbreakable Shield definitely leveled up after the gluttonous priestess ate the Energy of the Heart last time. That was why the shield no longer strained Cale’s body unless it took enough damage to break. Using even a pinch of another Ancient Power triggered the Energy of the Heart’s damage control. The vessel of Cale’s body, the source of his abilities, was lacking. Since my vessel’s so puny, there’s not much I can do about it.
“I’m all right, so don’t worry.” Casually waving off Raon and Choi Han, Cale returned his attention to the battlefield. Thanks to Raon’s sturdy silver shield, he could watch calmly as the ocean began to settle. The cyclone had rampaged for the last ten minutes, accompanied by a symphony of explosions, but now the roiling waves went slack, and the line between sky and sea became visible again.
Cale continued to peer beyond the magical barrier, feeling droplets of water plopping onto his head, when he heard Choi Han’s voice.
“Everything was destroyed.”
Cale didn’t respond, keeping his eyes on the scene.
Choi Han understood his reaction. Everything was in ruins. Each and every one of the numerous ships previously dotting the water had either capsized or burst into pieces, the soldiers dead or barely clinging to life. When Choi Han took in the gruesome circumstances of the enemies outside the safety of the shield, he could easily imagine what Cale was thinking. That was just the sort of person Cale was.
Choi Han was only half right, however.
“Raon,” Cale said at length, “why…why didn’t that half-blood dragon use a shield?”
What? Choi Han turned to look at Cale. The redhead seemed flustered, as if he couldn’t believe the carnage before his eyes.
“Human, Choi Han,” Raon said, addressing both of them, “there’s something strange about this.” In the instant before the fiery thunderbolt punctured the purple mana orb, Raon had seen a white-gold barrier surrounding the main ship. “With that half-blood dragon’s level of skill, he would’ve been able to protect his allies to an extent, but…it looks like he withdrew his shield.”
Choi Han was dumbfounded. Are you serious? Not only had the mage neglected to defend his allies, but he’d even removed the shields that were already in place?
“Why?”
Even as that question left Choi Han’s mouth, his body was already moving.
‹Incoming!›
With a cry, Raon’s water dragon surged in front of the silver shield.
At that very moment, an explosion shook the sea. Bam! A portion of the water dragon’s body disintegrated as an orb of light detonated, sending jets of water shooting into the air.
Choi Han stepped on the silver shield to boost himself over to the other side. His tumultuous aura plunged in a straight line toward the ocean, slamming into a few more light orbs before it disappeared. Bam! Bam! Bam!
Then the ocean’s surface split open.
Swoosh. A single person swooped up through the gap in the water, cocooned by a multilayered white-gold shield that left him untouched and completely dry.
“Ha ha ha! Miss me?!”
The person standing above the waves was, naturally, the half-blood dragon mage. His gaunt cheeks lifted in a grin before his gaze settled on Cale. Even as his allies—including Arm’s other mages—were dying behind him, he only laughed.
Snap. Snap. Another minuscule thunderbolt popped into the mage’s hand, which he fired toward the shield once again. The water dragon and Choi Han blocked the attack, preventing it from breaking through Raon’s silver barrier, but the smaller bolts ricocheted away to fall where the mage’s surviving allies languished.
“Aaahhh!”
“Urrrgh! I-it hurts!”
The thunderbolts striking the waves stole away the lives of the mages in the water. The handful of mages who used shields or flight magic managed to survive, as did the knights who were skilled enough to drag themselves onto the capsized ships, but the soldiers of the Indomitable Alliance perished en masse.
“He’s really lost his mind,” Cale muttered in spite of himself. As he did, he met the mage’s eyes. “Hm.”
The mage charged straight toward him.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Choi Han’s sword and the water dragon tried to block his path, but the mage cloaked himself with a multitude of mana orbs; the pair couldn’t deflect them all. The mage reached the silver shield almost instantaneously, leaving Cale no time to retreat.
Boooom!
Blood trickled from the half-blood dragon’s forehead where he’d crashed into the shield, but his smile never wavered. Flattening himself against the silvery barrier, he observed Cale on the other side—or more precisely, he observed the area around Cale.
“I smell a lord. That power from earlier was definitely a dragon lord. I know it was! I’ve smelled it before.”
This crazy bastard. Cale couldn’t help but think that this felt like a scene straight out of a horror movie.
The mage’s eyes sparkled. “Are you a dragon?”
The fiery thunderbolt was formed from pure natural power and mana. It wasn’t something a human mage could produce, so the caster had to be a dragon. A dragon’s power was absolutely around here somewhere—he could feel it.
“What’s that invisible thing next to you?”
The closer he got, the stronger the sensation became. He detected a presence concealed at the redhead’s side, but it was too faint. In fact, the energy exuding from Cale was much stronger. The scent of nature gushed out of him, which struck him as even more bizarre than the whiff of the lord.
“You are a dragon, aren’t you?” the mage said. “Have you come out on a little vacation to play among the humans? Or is the dragon that thing next to you? Hmm?”
Wham! Wham! The half-blood dragon slammed his fists against the shield.
He was completely insane. Did Arm only have lunatics like him within their ranks? Cale looked at this utter madman and said, “A dragon on vacation? As if. Sounds more to me like your brain’s vacated for good. Enough of this nonsense.”
The half-blood dragon laughed at Cale’s response. “Yes, I knew you would act that way. Dragons are always good at this sort of thing. They feign ignorance and then toy with people much weaker than themselves. Ah ha ha, how delightful! This is so very—”
Swish!
He couldn’t finish his sentence—a large black claw slashed through the exact spot where the mage had just been. It was a violent power reminiscent of a dragon’s giant talon.
But the half-blood dragon was already hovering in the air. “Clumsy,” he said. The attack was forceful but ungainly. Or maybe…?
The half-blood dragon looked at Cale again, eyes flashing. That vibrant red hair, the shield… He’d assumed it was an Ancient Power because of its pure wood affinity, but was that really the case?
He thought about the red dragon, a mighty being who had looked like fire made flesh. Its flames had flickered out, however, leaving only death behind.
The mage then recalled the fiery thunderbolt from a moment ago. Though it was saturated with magic, he’d felt the uncontaminated essence of fire within it. The red dragon’s power was also pure—just like the mage’s, which had been passed down through dragon blood.
But this generation no longer has a red dragon. He knew it firsthand. Is it possible that there’s someone else like me?
A dragon who had yet to experience their first growth phase was awkward and inexperienced; they didn’t know how to control their powers properly. Being part dragon himself, the half-blood mage had naturally gone through growth phases of his own. Half-bloods experienced three growth phases, like normal dragons, and he’d already undergone two. A dragon who hadn’t yet completed their first growth phase and another half-blood would make easy prey for him.
The mage cackled like a maniac. “Bwa ha ha ha! Everyone, everyone, is making an appearance!” He surveyed the water dragon, the black bone wyvern, Choi Han, and the host of magic spells flying toward him from Castle Leona before looking back at Cale. “With this much power stacked against me, I guess I need to get serious too.”
Light emanated from the half-blood dragon’s body.
‹Huh? Human! Something’s wrong!› Raon told Cale, sounding surprised. ‹That half-blood dragon wasn’t using his full strength until now.›
Cale scrutinized the mage. That hadn’t been his full strength?
‹He’s strong.›
The mage’s white-gold mana blazed, ruffling his robe, while his hair whipped about. He seemed livelier than before, face glowing with vitality.
“Do you know why I didn’t care whether my allies died?” the mage asked as Choi Han’s black aura followed him in hot pursuit.
Choi Han didn’t allow his curiosity to slow him down, but he did want to know. He couldn’t comprehend the mage’s behavior.
When he heard the half-blood dragon’s answer, however, his expression crumpled.
“I want even more humans to die! The more the better.”
Light erupted from the mage’s entire body. Though its brilliance all but blinded Choi Han, he kept up his attacks. The mage’s light was much stronger than it had been before; Choi Han felt as if it was incinerating his entire being.
A jolt of fear swept through him. That dazzling brightness was like a yawning, impenetrable void. If he entered its domain, he sensed that he wouldn’t survive. His incomplete darkness would disappear without a trace.
Choi Han’s palms grew slick with sweat. I might die.
Even so, he didn’t back down.
“I’ll kill all the humans!” the mage prattled on. “I’ll eradicate them from this land, even if it’s the last thing I do!”
All humans? Choi Han blanched. He turned his head, tracking the trajectory of the magic attacks from Karo’s mages.
Darkness was weak against light. The moment that thought occurred to him, the dark elves flashed through his mind. He wouldn’t!
“Ah ha ha ha! Die!”
The half-blood dragon’s body shot toward the shore.
“No, don—”
Choi Han whirled—but as he did, a flare of red hair caught his eye. Someone else was already ahead of him.
“That crazy lunatic,” Cale muttered. He swooped in front of Choi Han, riding on the other black bone wyvern. Raon acted as a tailwind, giving Cale and the wyvern a boost.
Boooom!
An earthshaking rumble prompted Choi Han to whip his head around again. The massive barrier that had been blocking the fleet’s path was rising into the air. Silver wings unfurling at its sides, the shield followed its master.
And it wasn’t only Cale’s shield that fell into formation behind him: Raon’s silver shield chased after its wielder as well.
‹Don’t worry, weak human. I’ll make sure nobody gets hurt!›
Still, the light moved at an incredible speed. Apart from its destructive potential, the other key attribute of the half-blood dragon mage’s power was its swiftness; he arrived at the shore in a blink.
Along with the dark elves and the bears, Karo’s mages had also reached the area via a path Mary had forged by purifying the dead mana. A slew of people manned the castle walls as well.
“Um…”
The mage sneered down at the flustered humans. Such puny, pathetic creatures… If only that bastard from Arm didn’t have him by the collar, he would slaughter them in one fell swoop and never spare them a second glance.
“Your Highness!”
Crown Prince Valentino of Karo heard his chief officer calling to him, but he couldn’t form a response. He’d witnessed that explosion from his coastal vantage point, and he knew this battle was beyond the limits of human capability. Gripping the wall’s ledge with a trembling hand, he looked at the mage, who grinned despite the bloody gash on his forehead, then at the hundreds of light arrows hovering behind him.
Beaming, the half-blood dragon mage waved his hand. “Death to all!” When his hand stilled, the arrows shot down toward the humans below.
“Shields! Activate the shields!”
“Your Highness, please escape!”
Valentino stared dumbly at the rain of death falling from the sky. He could feel the chief officer tugging at his arm, but he was frozen to the spot. The light arrows looked like an incarnation of divine punishment; it seemed as if they would reduce everything in their path to ashes.
“Oh, dear God!” The bishop broke into a run, crying out to his deity, but the crown prince looked at the soldiers. The castle wall was in chaos. Despair filled his eyes as he took in the scene, but a glimmer of hope remained.
“Your Highness! You must go!”
That hope was Valentino’s anchor, the reason he didn’t flee. Finally, he watched that hope manifest in the form of a pair of broad black wings and the fiery gleam of red hair.
Cale Henituse had appeared in front of the arrows.
“I knew it!” the half-blood dragon exclaimed with a smirk. Even though he was extremely fast thanks to his light affinity, this redhead had managed to keep up with him. “You’ve got speed like that, yet you still call yourself a human?”
“You crazy bastard.”
Neither could hear what the other said.
Cale reached out a hand, feeling two small paws supporting him. “Let’s do it.”
‹You got it, human.›
Everybody on the ground gawked up at the sky. The sun had already set, but night had yet to fall; the outpouring of incandescent light stung their eyes. That light seemed to foretell the world’s imminent end.
Just as those hundreds of lights cascaded to the earth…
A pearly glimmer covered the ground once more. A silver shield reminiscent of the starry sky descended over the area and blocked the light.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Everyone threw themselves to the ground as the earth convulsed. Even the very sky seemed to quake, but the blinding light made it impossible for anyone to see clearly. That is, anyone except the half-blood dragon, who could see Cale beyond the shield.
“Ha ha ha! I knew you’d protect the humans!” It amused him to no end that Cale would defend against the arrows of light even with a scowl on his face.
No matter; this gave the mage time to make his escape. Why would he put his own life on the line just to kill a bunch of humans? The very idea was disgusting.
He turned his eyes to Choi Han and the black bone wyvern. They lingered in the distance, unable to approach.
Yes, you dare not enter the presence of a light like mine. That skeletal wyvern would burn if it drew near, and you’d be seriously injured yourself.
Such were the limits of an imperfect, inferior darkness.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
A magic teleportation circle appeared beneath the mage. As he was the one who’d invented Arm’s particular teleportation spells, it was a simple feat.
“Bye-bye now. Have a nice day!” He looked down to smirk at Cale…and froze.
Cale was smiling.
At that very moment, Cale was listening to a voice in his mind. ‹Human, I realized that I’m not actually great and mighty after all. So I’ve made up my mind! I’ll learn everything there is to know and understand every bit of it, so I can make it my own.›
The young dragon had learned something during his fight with the fake dragon slayer. If one wasn’t great and mighty to start with, then one had to work hard to achieve that greatness and might in the future.
In that conflict, the young dragon had learned about natural disasters. And this time…
‹I learned about light.›
A tiny light plunged from the dark sky. It was small and fast, but the power within was blisteringly hot and destructive. The half-blood dragon felt it closely resembled his own light, which he’d developed over nine hundred years.
That flicker of falling light shot toward his back.
“You—”
Boom! Another loud crash rent the air. The people below opened their eyes at the sound of the din, but only Choi Han, Cale, and Raon could bear witness; the overwhelming brightness prevented the others from seeing what had happened. A series of blasts rang in their ears.
Why weren’t the noises stopping? Were the light arrows still coming?
A few people kept their eyes open. Even as the strain made his eyes water, Valentino didn’t close them, keeping his gaze locked on the darkening night sky while his hands clung to the ledge. When the light faded, he saw a single person’s back. Though it seemed pitiful in comparison to the humongous shield and the multitude of light arrows, the person it belonged to—a red-haired man aboard a black wyvern—was standing tall.
“Commander Cale…”
Cale waited until the residual glow suffusing the sky winked out completely. Once the curtain of night descended in earnest, he retracted his silver shield, watching droplets of blood fall through the air to splatter on the black bone wyvern’s head. It was the mage’s blood.
Unfortunately, Cale hadn’t managed to catch him.
Grasping at the light piercing his body, the half-blood dragon had loosed a laugh. “I guess the dragon hasn’t finished its first growth phase yet… Oh well. I had fun.”
Instead of trying to free himself, he’d produced another volley of arrows, this time targeting Choi Han and the black bone wyvern. A wise choice, given that it had held Raon and Cale back while preventing Choi Han from approaching him.
“You won’t accomplish anything with that soft heart of yours.”
With Raon forced to focus on shielding Choi Han, the half-blood dragon had activated his teleportation magic. With that, the two sides had parted ways.
Cale recalled the words the half-blood dragon had whispered into his mind: ‹You’re like me—one who has received dragon blood. I’ll spare the life of a younger member of my kind, but I’ll also be the one to kill you in the end. Ha ha ha ha!›
What kind of crap was that? Perplexed as he was, Cale didn’t give it too much thought.
‹Human, I got a trace! Let’s go capture him too!›
The mage’s nonsense would cease to matter once they had him in their clutches.
Choi Han flew over on the wyvern, his head lowered in apology. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Cale patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s go down.”
Myriad people stood on the ground below. The soldiers, mages, and others who had survived the barrage of light arrows watched Cale descend.
The second the wyvern landed heavily on the ground and Cale stepped off its back, Vice-Captain Hilsmann ran toward him. The sorry sight Hilsmann presented made Cale clear his throat.
One enemy might have slipped through their net, but their allies were safe. That was good enough for now; they would nab the one that got away before long. With such thoughts on his mind, Cale opened his mouth to address Hilsmann, but the vice-captain spoke first.
“Lord Cale—I mean, Commander! The shield really didn’t break!” Hilsmann enthused, his voice dripping with admiration.
Cale’s lips twisted into a scowl.
Next, Valentino appeared from behind Hilsmann, blithely darting across the ground that Mary had purged of dead mana. When Cale saw the crown prince’s face, he nearly recoiled; Valentino was moved to the point of tears.
“Commander!” he cried, grasping Cale’s hands.
Oh dear. Cale’s gaze slid over Valentino’s shoulder and into the distance, but the sight that awaited him was the chock-full Castle Leona. Clusters of soldiers, knights, and mages stood on the walls, their eyes trained on him.
Yikes.
Wallowing in discomfort, Cale heard a voice behind him. “Commander, we used dead mana to capture the bears that didn’t make it onto the ships.”
It was Tasha, the dark elf. Cale welcomed her interruption; he snatched his hands out of Valentino’s grip and turned toward her. When their gazes met, Tasha raised her hands.
“Oh, my apologies,” she said. She was still slathered in dead mana. “I can’t approach you because of the—”
“It’s fine as long as we don’t touch.”
Cale walked right up to Tasha, making her smile. “You’re right. You’ll be safe as long as we don’t make contact.”
He looked past Tasha toward the coastline.
“Y-you assholes!”
“Cheaters!”
The other dark elves surrounded the remaining bears. Dead mana wavered around the bears in a ringlike formation, as if carried by the wind.
“It must’ve been tough gathering them into one spot,” Cale said.
Amid the group of bears, Cale saw the nearly three-meter-tall polar bear collapsed on the ground, no longer in his berserk state. Injuries inflicted by the elementals’ wind riddled his massive body.
“I can’t imagine capturing that polar bear was easy either.”
Tasha grinned at Cale, and he glanced at her shoulder. Blood and dead mana seeped down her arm. It was the proof that she too was a child of nature; despite her affinity with dead mana, her blood proved that she still belonged to the natural order.
The dark elf pressed her hand down on the bloody area. “Is this your first time seeing a dark elf’s blood?”
“Blood all looks pretty much the same, doesn’t it?”
Tasha’s smile brightened at Cale’s stoic response. Befuddled that Tasha could beam so brilliantly while she was injured, Cale took a handkerchief out of his pocket.
“I know potions don’t work on you, so use this to help stop the bleeding.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you very much.” Tasha caught the handkerchief Cale tossed her. “We’ll take care of the rest.”
Behind Cale, Tasha saw Valentino approaching. All the dark elves lived in the underground city beneath the Land of Death, and Valentino was the person who might end up ruling the kingdom to which Death Desert belonged.
“Erm…”
She observed the way he hung back, unable to boldly walk up to them. His hesitation, stemming from his fear of the dead mana and his unfamiliarity with the dark elves, was the usual treatment her people faced. For as long as she remained swathed in dead mana, it was quite possible that she would end up repeating this same experience for the rest of her life.
Something seemed different this time, though.
“That was amazing. Could we chat more later? The dead mana makes me a little nervous,” Valentino said, awkward but honest.
After acknowledging Valentino’s sincere request with a brisk bow, Tasha turned around, wind gathering at her feet. There was still work to be done.
As she hurried back toward the bears on shore, the knights opened a path for her to fly by them. They didn’t point their swords at her; they were simply making way. That fact made it impossible for her to suppress her smile.
Cale felt his own lips twitch as well—until Valentino grabbed his hands again. “Commander!”
“Your Highness,” Cale began, trying to gently extract himself from Valentino’s grip, “there are still enemies to subdue and loose ends to tie up. Plus, some areas still need to be purified. It looks like you have a lot to do.”
Cale hoped Valentino would catch his implication: Stop holding my hands and let me go.
Just then, the main doors of the central tower opened wide, and a group of mages—those affiliated with Karo—emerged, picking a careful path over the purified zone. Some of them were already using flight magic to move toward the shoreline.
“Don’t worry, I won’t burden you with all that as well!” Valentino said. “The ships we sent north will turn around and head back, and our knights and mages will round up any stragglers. You don’t need to trouble yourself.” He paused. “But…it looks like we will need to leave the dead mana to you.”
Valentino didn’t want to rely on the bishop or the light-affiliated faiths. He knew he couldn’t trust them. Though he seethed with fury at their behavior, he reined in his emotions and smiled warmly at Cale. “You needn’t be too concerned about us. We can be at ease now. We all managed to survive thanks to your Unbreakable Shield, after all.”
This is ridiculous. Cale felt as if he might really lose his mind if he had to look at Valentino’s teary face any longer. The prince’s naked admiration gave him goosebumps; he preferred dealing with Albert.
“Now it’s up to we survivors to help lighten the load on your shoulders,” Valentino finished.
He’s a tough opponent.
Cale sincerely felt that Valentino was a formidable foe. He barely managed to prevent himself from glowering; an expression of careful stoicism was the best he could muster.
When Valentino saw the look on Cale’s face, he snapped his mouth shut. The commander’s manner seemed to say that they couldn’t let their guards down just yet. The way he eyed Castle Leona reminded Valentino that there was still much to be done. Indeed, the Indomitable Alliance hadn’t surrendered. This war wasn’t over.
Without thinking, Valentino tightened his grip on Cale’s hands.
‹Weak human! Why are you making that face? Is the crown prince holding your hands too hard? Don’t tell me just holding hands is painful for you now too? You’re too fragile. I’m worried about you. I’ll need to ask Goldie Gramps to find you some elixir.›
No, it had nothing to do with that. All Cale wanted was to run away and leave both the young dragon and the crown prince behind.
Suddenly, Cale’s eyes flashed. The northern tower’s gates opened in the distance. A man strode out with a procession of knights and mages behind him: the other swordmaster, Duke Huiten of the Mogor Empire. Though he seemed solemn at first glance, he was obviously pleased by the turn of events.
Cale stepped closer to Valentino, taking care to ensure that Duke Huiten wouldn’t be able to read his lips. “Your Highness, there’s something I must tell you.”
“Of course, what is it? For you, I’m all ears,” Valentino replied, half joking. When he heard what Cale had to say next, though, his mirth disappeared.
“The dead mana bombs. Do you know who made them?” Cale made eye contact with Duke Huiten. When the swordmaster smiled at him, Cale offered him a nod in greeting, but his lips conveyed a more sinister sentiment. “Sometimes the real enemy is the person smiling behind your back.”
Behind my back? A shiver trickled down his spine.
As if on cue, Valentino heard a familiar voice. “Your Highness! Commander Cale!”
The crown prince slowly turned to find Duke Huiten approaching, his features arranged in a smile. When Valentino looked back at Cale, the young noble wasn’t smiling at all.
Valentino’s expression was complicated as he regarded Cale, taking in the commander’s waterlogged uniform and the blood flecking the corner of his lips. “I’ll treat you to a delicious feast later.”
“Whenever works best for you, Your Highness. I’ll be waiting,” Cale replied impassively. “If that’s all, I’m going to return to my quarters.”
At Valentino’s nod, Cale gave a short bow and then headed back toward the southern tower, Choi Han and Hilsmann following behind him. The two wyverns took to the sky and flew in the same direction.
Within moments, however, Duke Huiten intercepted Cale. “That was incredible, Commander! In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it!” Duke Huiten abandoned his dignified air as a swordmaster, practically bursting with joy. “The necromancer’s strength got my heart pumping, not to mention the swordmaster’s power! And your shield left me in awe. We all survived thanks to you. Thank you very much.”
In apparent disregard of noble hierarchy, the duke demonstrated his sincere thanks by bowing his head to Cale. The sight of both the crown prince and the duke treating Cale with such respect painted a pretty picture in the eyes of any onlookers, but Cale couldn’t share their appreciation.
As for the reason…
“Oh, but it looked like the enemy’s purple orb got hit by some type of thunderbolt before it exploded. Was that someone from your side too?”
Behind its gilded paint, this “pretty picture” disguised a tableau of shadows and schemes. Duke Huiten was trying to use this opportunity to scope out the capabilities of Cale’s group.
Even so, Cale would rather interact with this conspirator than a person like Valentino. Pretending to look thoughtful, he replied, “I don’t think so. I thought that was the Empire’s doing. You mean to tell me it wasn’t you?”
“Our Empire, you say? No, it wasn’t us.”
Cale’s manner grew more serious. “Was there someone else here?”
“…I’m not sure.”
“I see. We’ll have to look into it. Since you never used your sword and focused on commanding your troops, I assumed you prepared that giant thunderbolt with magic.”
Duke Huiten’s face stiffened. Is he criticizing me for not wielding my sword in the vanguard? But no, Cale’s attitude seemed too earnest for that to be the case.
Just as Duke Huiten was about to respond, Cale went on, “To be honest with you, I have my suspicions about the dead mana as well. How do you think the Indomitable Alliance turned dead mana into bombs? They’re all nations built around knighthood, so they should be lacking in magic and technological prowess. We must investigate this too.”
Karo’s surrounding knights and mages nodded. Cale spoke the truth; the matter definitely merited closer scrutiny.
“We can’t let any more people get hurt,” Cale added.
His declaration made the knights clench their fists, but he only had eyes for the silent Duke Huiten.
The duke plastered on another good-natured smile. “Yes, of course. Our Empire will assist in the investigation as well. We need to determine the origin of such dangerous items.”
“I knew the hero of the Empire would agree with me.” Though he’ll sink from the Empire’s hero to the continent’s enemy soon enough.
Taking his leave of the shameless duke, Cale ended the conversation. “Now, I’ll be on my way.”
“All right. Our Empire will put our backs into the cleanup.”
“Thank you very much.”
Cleanup, my ass, Cale thought as he returned to the southern tower. He would have to watch closely to see if they destroyed anything that might be used as evidence against them. Thanks to Tasha, however, he didn’t need to be too concerned; he trusted her to do a thorough job.
When Cale arrived at the gate, it opened for him, manned by soldiers from Karo. These were the few troops who had been stationed at the southern tower. The young soldier from before pushed the door open with both hands, his spear tucked securely into his belt.
Screeeech. As the ponderous gate inched wider, the young soldier caught sight of a silhouette through the gradually widening crack of the door. It was the commander, drenched in blood and seawater. Behind him were the swordmaster and Vice-Captain Hilsmann, each also in a terrible state.
The young warrior propelled the door open with all his strength, shoving so hard that his hands shook. Still, those very trembling hands of his were another reminder that he’d survived. A flood of emotions swirled within him.
Creak, thud!
The southern gate finally opened completely, and the soldier watched Cale enter the tower. The young soldier hadn’t played a role in the battle here; just watching the scene had left him breathless. When he locked eyes with the person who had been behind it all, he flinched.
Cale looked down at the soldier’s shaking hands. Though he didn’t know what compelled him to do it, he quickly hid them behind his back.
The commander’s voice echoed inside the southern tower. “Seeing as we’re all still alive and kicking, I think we’ve earned that drink.”
The young soldier remembered what Cale had said before the battle: “Let’s all get through this together and go for drinks afterward.”
Cale met the soldier’s gaze again. “Of course, anyone who isn’t of age will need to drink juice.”
The soldier tried to grin, his lips landing somewhere between a smile and a frown. Even he thought he must’ve looked strange, but his hands no longer trembled. The soldier clenched his fists, staring at the commander’s retreating back.
As the crown prince announced the end of the battle, cheers rose up from the soldiers in the other towers, but the southern tower stayed quiet. The people here were overwhelmed by the sheer euphoria of living to see another day. Though they were outwardly subdued, their hearts pounded faster than ever.
Cale, on the other hand, didn’t get to savor the silence—it was quite lively inside his mind.
‹Human! What are we gonna eat? Are we having steak?›
But Cale enjoyed the ruckus in his mind for once. He rubbed his hungry belly, fully intending to devour every delicacy Karo had to offer. Although there were still a mountain of things that he needed to deal with, a smile played on his lips.
Then he heard it.
“Are you trying to sacrifice yourself?”
Despite the cacophony in his head, the words cut through loud and clear—another voice was speaking in his mind apart from Raon.
“Are you trying to sacrifice yourself?”
It was the stone guardian.
“Are you trying to sacrifice yourself? Are you trying to sacrifice yourself?”
Cale stopped in his tracks. Like a broken record, the ancient continuously asked the same question. It was unnerving.
Why is it like this? Is it glitching or something?
In an instant, all thoughts of steak and wine evaporated from Cale’s mind; all he could feel were chills coursing through his body.
‹We got a call from the stone guardian’s villa, human!› Raon announced at that moment. ‹It’s the priestess Kage!›
That crazy priestess is calling from the villa? Why?
Why would the crazy priestess who had been excommunicated from the Church of the God of Death contact him now? She should have been resting in the villa with the half-saint, Jack, and the swordmaster Hana.
‹Ah! It got disconnected! They left a message!›
After the video call ended, Raon relayed the message that Kage had left on the device:
‹Lord Cale, the stone pillar underground is shaking. I think it might break. Would we be in hot water if it did? Since you’re probably still in the middle of battle, I’ll end the call and leave you a message. Do your best out there! I’ve been praying to the God of Death on your behalf. I told him I’ll convert to the Church of the God of Sun if you get hurt. Please keep up the good work.›
It was a calm and direct message, much like Kage herself. Yet its troubling contents had Cale frowning.
The stone pillar in the villa marked the entrance to the path where the stone guardian had been sealed—the same passageway that the monsters from the Eastern Continent used to traverse. The pillar blocked access to that path.
“Are you trying to sacrifice yourself?”
This damn stone guardian!
‹Human, are we going home?› Raon’s excited voice piped up. ‹Can we go see everybody? I miss everyone!›
In lieu of a response, Cale closed his eyes. The world before him was shrouded in darkness.
Vice-Captain Hilsmann had been trailing after Cale. When Cale stopped and squeezed his eyes shut, Hilsmann quietly moved to his side. Choi Han and Mary stood a short ways away, watching in silence.
“Lord Cale, are you dizzy by any chance?” Hilsmann asked, startling Choi Han and Mary.
“…No.”
Cale slowly opened his eyes. Although Hilsmann showed genuine concern for Cale, he also looked oddly giddy. The vice-captain’s sunny expression sent a surge of annoyance through Cale, and his feelings bubbled to the surface.
“Why is living so hard?” Cale blurted out.
He didn’t even have time to put his feet up, let alone laze around. He never thought lying in bed all day doing nothing would be such an unattainable wish.
With a shake of his head, Cale resumed walking.
Hilsmann watched all of this with a dejected expression until Choi Han patted him on the shoulder. “Come on.”
When Hilsmann turned to look at Choi Han, what he saw gave him pause. “Y-yes. Let’s be off.”
“We must move quickly. Lord Cale does everything quickly,” Mary said, her black robe dragging on the ground as she scurried past to catch up with Cale. Hilsmann had never seen Mary walk so fast before.
Choi Han fell into step behind her. As Hilsmann recalled the look Choi Han had just given him, an ice-cold shiver raced through his body. Rubbing at his clammy neck, he hurried after Cale too.
‹Weak human, life is supposed to be hard. I learned that when I was two years old. But no matter what, there will be more good days than bad. I learned that when I was four. Let’s eat some delicious food, okay? That’s what happiness is!›
All the while, the incessant ramblings of the stone guardian and the young dragon never ceased in Cale’s mind.
***
The first step in Cale’s plan to silence the voice in his head was to contact the source of the problem.
Kage offered him a casual wave. “Long time no see, Lord Cale.”
Raon had created a special video communication device that allowed residents of the stone guardian’s villa to chat exclusively with Cale. On the other side of the screen, he could see a pair of blond twins behind Kage: Hana, who had survived dead mana poisoning, and the half-saint Jack. The two of them greeted Cale as well.
“I hear you did something amazing, Lord Cale. You truly are someone who follows the light of truth.” Saint Jack’s innocent expression caught Kage, Hana, and Cale off guard. They were briefly rendered speechless by his naivete.
At length, Hana interjected, “You need to leave some for me.”
“There’s plenty for you,” Cale said. “And when we go to the Empire… Well, you already know, right?”
A smile appeared on Hana’s black-cobwebbed face. “Yes, the training I’m doing is all for that moment. I’m going to dye the palace red with blood.”
Cale didn’t know what to say to that; his plans didn’t include subjecting the palace to such a gruesome repainting job.
Hana went on saying her piece without waiting for his response. “How’s Mary?”
“She’s doing well. She seems happy to see the dark elves again.”
With that question answered, Hana picked up her sword and left, as if she had no further business with him.
Her brother spoke up next. “Every day, Hana trains her hardest so she can get strong enough to defeat the wicked Arm and save the Empire. She wants to help you, my lord.”
Jack’s guileless smile pricked Cale with a twinge of guilt, but he brushed it aside; he had other matters to attend to. “Miss Kage, how’s the stone pillar?”
Frowning, Kage recounted what she’d seen the day before. “It started yesterday. I woke up feeling a bit out of sorts, as if the God of Death had dropped by. I thought an enemy might’ve come knocking, so I took a stroll around the Dark Forest with Miss Hana just to be safe.”
Yet there was no enemy to be found. Thanks to Hana’s golden aura and the black smoke coming from her body, no monsters approached them either. Kage had begun to question whether she’d merely had a strange dream.
“But as soon as we went underground…”
Bang! A loud sound had rattled her ears, making the space quake. Shocked, Kage ran in the direction of the noise and managed to pinpoint the source.
“This is what made that loud sound,” she said, presenting an item in her palm. “It broke.”
It was a section from the set of chains that had been covering the stone pillar. When some of them snapped, they had produced the sound.
“The stone pillar acted a bit strange after that,” Kage continued, her expression uncertain. “Rather than shaking, it’s more accurate to say it was bouncing.”
Cale found himself mirroring the look on Kage’s face. “Are there still chains around it?”
“Yes. About three-fifths of the chains are still intact. I fused the broken parts back together with the God of Death’s power for now.”
“I suppose I’ll need to hurry back.”
Kage waved her hand as if to say that wasn’t necessary. “You don’t have to come. It doesn’t look like it’ll break anytime soon. And if anything does pop out, I’ll channel my god’s power or Hana can use her aura to kil—I mean, fend it off. Jeez, even though I was excommunicated, I still find it hard to talk about killing things as a former priestess. Ha ha ha!”
While Kage chuckled, Cale pressed his fingertips into his temples.He’d just realized that the assortment of people staying at the villa was a recipe for disaster. Between the crazy priestess, the even crazier swordmaster, and that doofus of a half-saint, he couldn’t predict what they’d do next. They could very well go on a destructive rampage and then wander back without a scratch after healing each other.
I should go back soon… I can’t let them demolish my villa.
He couldn’t lose one of the many assets he needed for his peaceful, laid-back future. Since he had to go to the Eastern Continent anyway, he might as well do something about the stone pillar too.
And then I can wear the crown.
In the Eastern Continent, he would find the Judging Water.Once the elements in his body were balanced, he planned to take in the crown that craved dragon blood.
“Human! Human! Are we going home? Are we all meeting up at the stone guardian’s villa?”
At the sound of Raon’s eager voice, Cale put an end to his train of thought. “Yes, we should gather there.”
“Oh, by the way,” Kage cut in, “I brewed my own booze with fruit from the Dark Forest. Let’s crack it open when you all get here.”
“All right. Let’s do that.”
“I was bored, so I carved some cups out of wood too. Yours is special—it has a silver shield. Wait till you see it! Imagine drinking alcohol from a silver shield cup… Whew!”
“I’ll be in touch,” Cale said flatly.
After Kage said her goodbyes through her laughter while Jack cheerfully urged Cale to return quickly (it seemed he was the one who’d helped Kage brew the alcohol), Cale ended the call.
He dropped his head into his hands. “What a headache.”
I need to contact Erhaven. And that lunatic Clope too.
At that moment, the bedroom door clicked open. Raon didn’t turn invisible, suggesting the newcomer was Choi Han, Mary, or Hilsmann.
When he turned to look, Cale froze. “What the…?”
A heavily bandaged Choi Han had stepped inside, accompanied by Mary, who was wearing her usual black robe. Then, with the creak of rolling wheels, a large food cart entered the bedroom, bearing a tray piled high with food and wine.
Raon gulped. When Choi Han felt the dragon’s gaze on him, he said, “I thought you might be hungry.”
“You’re the best, Choi Han. You truly are as smart as you are considerate.”
Cale jumped up and began transferring the food from the tray to the table. With help from Choi Han, Mary, and Raon’s magic, he covered the table with food in a flash.
“Where’s Hilsmann?” he asked as he sat down.
“He and the soldiers are telling people about the shield battle and making friends with Karo’s knights.”
Making friends on a battlefield? And what’s this about a “shield battle”?
Cale made a face, but it made sense when he remembered that Hilsmann had gotten chummy with Tunka’s warriors in the Kingdom of the Whipper as well. In any case, he was too hungry to mull it over further. He got right down to eating, and the others followed suit. Soon the only noise in the room was the sound of Raon’s jovial babbling.
“This is delicious, human! Have some! Mary, you should try this! And Choi Han, you need to eat lots so you can heal faster!”
After taking a single bite, Raon passed each tasty dish from his own plate to the others’. Cale sighed and kept placing new platters of food in front of the busy dragon.
Just as Raon moved a piece of steak to someone else’s plate and Cale set a new steak in front of him…
Beep. Beep. The communication device at the center of the table glowed red, indicating an emergency call.
When Cale heard the alarm, his first impulse was to chuck the plate of steak at it, but he managed to put it down gently—this was high-quality meat, after all. Then he racked his brain. Is it Brek? Maybe it’s Lark. Or is it Rowoon again?
As Cale turned his gaze to the communication device with a sigh, Raon informed him who was calling: “It’s Goldie Gramps!”
The gold dragon, Erhaven, was on the other line. Cale stiffened. Erhaven had yet to respond to the message Cale had left for him previously; what reason might he have for making an emergency call now?
Dabbing the sauce from his mouth, Cale said, “Connect me to him.”
Raon immediately complied, and a man with golden hair appeared on the screen. As usual, Erhaven exuded the majestic air of a higher being. He regarded Cale, Raon, Mary, and Choi Han on the other side of the screen with a corner of his mouth quirked up.
“Greetings, everyone.” Then he noticed the look on Cale’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Not beating around the bush, Cale asked, “Do you have a son?”
Choi Han choked on his food, Mary quietly set down the fork in her hand, and Raon stared bug-eyed at Cale.
Cale had posed the question with someone in mind: the half-blood dragon with white-gold hair. No two dragons of a single generation shared the same color. Cale didn’t know anything about half-blood dragons, but if they had a mix of dragon and human blood, it stood to reason that they would reflect the color of their dragon parent—and the only gold dragon Cale knew of was Erhaven.
Erhaven met Cale’s steady gaze. “I see… I suppose the chaos of war could drive a human mad. Has it been that hard on you?”
You unlucky human.
While Erhaven clicked his tongue, eyeing Cale with pity, Raon’s sauce-covered paw patted the back of Cale’s hand. “Weak human, that white-gold hair we saw earlier was from magic.”
“Oh!” Choi Han and Mary cried out in tandem.
Cale was at a loss for words, so Raon related the story of the half-blood dragon to Erhaven in his stead.
After hearing the younger dragon out, Erhaven had just one thing to say: “Interesting. He should be dead.”
Cale redirected his attention to the ancient dragon. “Pardon?” he asked, bewildered by the grim statement.
Erhaven tilted his head. “Do you know why dragons are unparalleled? It’s because no other race can consort with them. The dragon slayers do consume dragons, but feeding on a dragon is quite a different matter from inheriting a dragon’s bloodline.”
The gold dragon’s grave expression gave way to curiosity.
“This is intriguing… Dragons and humans do not usually produce offspring. The child inevitably dies after a period of suffering, unable to withstand their dragon blood. We dragons may be shameless, but we wouldn’t stoop to that level.”
Dragons were rational creatures. Though they were outwardly violent and emotional, their essence was rooted in logic. Even if a dragon fell in love with a human, they wouldn’t bring about a pregnancy; their natural instincts would prevent it.
“Yet you’re saying one of them managed to survive?” Erhaven’s fascination with the half-blood dragon only continued to build. The mere fact that he was alive was astonishing. “If he avoided this youngster and ran away, that means he’s undergone at least his first growth phase.”
“Goldie! Do half-blood dragons go through growth phases too?”
“Of course, youngster. They have dragon blood.”
“Ooh, got it!” Raon seemed happy to see Erhaven after so long apart. He kept the conversation flowing by firing off all sorts of questions.
Cale, meanwhile, caught sight of something odd. He hadn’t noticed at first, distracted as he was by Erhaven’s shockingly handsome face and the question about his potential son, but now he could see it all too well.
His face tightened. “Erhaven…”
“What is it?”
One dragon peered at Cale through the screen, while the other turned his head to look at him. Cale chose his next words with care. “The scenery behind you seems awfully familiar.”
“Ah, I am near your house.”
“The stone guardian’s villa?”
“Yes. I’m in the Dark Forest.”
Cale’s eyes narrowed. Had Erhaven learned about the strange phenomenon of the stone pillar?
A moment later, Erhaven’s placid voice broke the tension. “My house collapsed.”
Huh?
“So, seeing as I’m already here, I came to see you and impose on your hospitality awhile.”
“Excuse me?” Cale now understood why the communication device had glowed red.
“You’re familiar with the Ten Finger Mountains, right?” Erhaven said. “It’s where the elven village used to be.”
A twinge of uneasiness stirred in Cale’s heart. He had a bad feeling about this. “I am…”
“You recall how you protected their branch of the World Tree?”
“Yes?”
“It was stolen a few days ago.”
Choi Han groaned.
“When that event drew me to the elf village, I found that my lair had been destroyed. Ha!” The ancient dragon scoffed. “They think because I won’t live another year, they can do whatever they please.”
“Was it Arm’s doing?”
“Arm was definitely responsible for the theft at the elf village, but I can’t be sure about my lair. I’ll need to take a closer look. Anyway…”
“Anyway,” he says… Why did that word sound so ominous? Cale didn’t need to wait long before the reason for his growing anxiety became clear.
“Where exactly in Karo are you right now?”
While Cale hesitated to respond, Raon happily blurted out the answer on his behalf. “Castle Leona! The biggest room on the third floor of the southern annex!”
Cale tried to shut Raon up, but the black dragon was much faster; he followed up with the castle’s exact coordinates and the approximate location of the room within it.
“Understood.”
Click. The call ended abruptly.
A split second later, a strange sound reverberated inside the bedroom. Fwoosh. A radiant golden light flooded the chamber. As the glow dimmed, a voice could be heard.
“Hello there.”
It was Erhaven.
“Goldie!” Raon flew over to greet Erhaven, but the gold dragon paused when he saw Cale’s expression.
“…What’s with that look?”
Though Erhaven had assumed Cale would ultimately welcome him, he’d suspected Cale might find his sudden arrival inconvenient or even burdensome. Hence, he’d prepared a gift. Yet the redhead’s expression was nothing like he’d imagined.
Raon recognized that look all too well. “Hey, human! Why are you smiling like that again?”
Cale ignored the two dragons, focusing instead on the other individual who had arrived with Erhaven: Pendrick the healer.
“O-oh my! It’s been too long, great Lord Raon. You’ve grown even more gloriously adorable in the time since last we met. Why, I’ve found another source of joy in this life!” After Pendrick finished singing Raon’s praises, he turned his attention to Cale and regained his capacity for rational speech. “I hope you’ve been well, Lord Cale.”
Beaming brightly, Cale extended his hand toward this eternal dragon fanatic. “Same to you.”
Pendrick was an elf who couldn’t bond with elementals, but he was a gifted healer. Though he had died early on in Birth of a Hero, Pendrick was talented enough to play the role of healer in Choi Han’s party for a time. His abilities drew from the power of nature rather than divinity, but at a glance, they didn’t seem too different from faith-based healing.
Cale hadn’t forgotten that the church and the Empire went hand in hand. Now that Pendrick was standing before him, a piece clicked into place. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Are you really? I’m honored that you’d welcome me so warmly after our short time together.”
“Of course. How about we join forces and do something good?”
“Er, sorry?”
Cale intended to topple the Mogor Empire and its church from the ground up. Only then would he be able to insert his own people and restructure the entire establishment.
“Starting today, you’re a believer of the God of Sun,” he said.
“I’m what?”
Baffled, Pendrick looked to the two dragons for help. Erhaven took a step back, while Raon flapped his wings and declared that this was a great idea. In the end, Pendrick had no choice but to face Cale again.
“During your journey of faith, you happened to develop the power to heal people,” Cale went on. “A certain pure and just individual helped you hone those abilities. A pioneer of sorts.”
The person Cale referred to was the half-saint, Jack.
“Pendrick,” Cale said, flashing a grin, “I’ll be providing your room and board for a while. Don’t you think you should pay me back somehow?”
His choice of words made both Pendrick and Erhaven flinch.
“Pay you back?” Pendrick looked around at the others in confusion.
Choi Han nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “That’s right. You should work for your meals,” he agreed.
Mary bobbed her head as well.
“You’re right!” Raon gushed, floating next to Erhaven. “You have to pull your weight! There’s no such thing as a free meal! I earn my keep too—and I get an allowance of twenty silver coins!”
While the outrage on Erhaven’s face grew more pronounced, Cale addressed Pendrick again.
“I’ve heard elves aren’t materialistic,” Cale said in a gentle tone. “You wouldn’t expect a reward just for doing a good deed, would you?”
Cale remembered how the elf village tried to use him; now he was thinking about how to use Pendrick and the other elves in turn.
“Don’t you agree, Pendrick?” he cajoled the elf. “Hmm?”
Pendrick could find nothing overtly wrong with Cale’s statement. “I do, but—”
“Wonderful!” Cale thumped Pendrick on the shoulder, all smiles. Pendrick could only stare vacantly at him, wondering what sort of mess he’d stumbled into within moments of his arrival.
Then Cale pressed a pristine white priest’s robe into his hands. It was the same uniform the group had worn in the past, back when they pretended to be priests alongside Jack.
“All right,” Cale said tenderly. “Now get to work.”
Clearing his throat, Erhaven took another step backward. “Good luck.”
Pendrick trailed his dazed eyes around the room once more before taking the robe from Cale.
One hour later, underneath the castle’s southern wall, a priest that Cale had brought with him emanated a holy white light.
***
The battle for Castle Leona gave way to yet another struggle.
“Argh, my joints! I guess it’s time for me to hang up the uniform.” The soldier who’d said as much was thirty-five, and he’d enlisted at age twenty.
“Fifteen years is quite a career,” said the younger soldier beside him. “Weren’t you going to take your pension and open a restaurant?”
The older soldier sat on a pile of rocks, rubbing his back. “That’s the plan.”
Surveying the hustle and bustle of the fortress, the younger man said, “I finally understand what they mean when they say that war comes after war.”
All sorts of people scurried around Castle Leona and the surrounding shoreline, attending to various tasks. They were working to restore the area to its pre-battle state. The young soldier and the veteran had been assigned to repair the castle wall.
“Now that the battle’s over, I thought we’d get a few days for R&R.”
The veteran snorted at his junior officer’s comment. “Stop dreaming, punk. We haven’t even purified all the dead mana. Just be grateful they’re feeding us well.”
“I guess that’s true.”
Since achieving victory, Karo had been treating the soldiers to sumptuous feasts. They’d even handed out drinks the day the battle ended. Nevertheless, the young soldier seemed disappointed that the reality didn’t match his vision.
“It’s because His Highness is a sensible person,” the veteran told him. “We need to make sure we can defend against any future attacks. It’s all so we can go back to our normal lives once the war is over.” Jerking his chin at the central tower, he added, “The higher-ups are working ’round the clock as we speak.”
His face clouded.
“Besides, there’re folks who can’t move on account of their injuries. How can we take it easy at a time like this?”
The young soldier also wore a sorrowful expression. “The commander is still recovering, isn’t he?”
“Yep, so they said.”
The “commander” they spoke of wasn’t a member of Karo’s military. He was Cale Henituse, the commander of Rowoon’s northeastern region. They had heard that Cale was currently recuperating from the damage to his body after deploying his enormous shield, just as he had done in Rowoon.
“Plus, the folks from Rowoon are busier than anybody else right now. This is our land—how can we slack off?”
The veteran’s gaze trailed down to the coast. When he was young, he’d been taught that the dark elves were terrifying and detestable, but now those same dark elves were directing their elementals to gather the remaining dead mana. They worked tirelessly, day and night. Watching them filled the man with guilt.
Unbeknownst to him, the dark elves were actually thrilled to get their hands on all that dead mana. They couldn’t have hidden their enthusiasm if they tried; they had never seen such an enormous deposit of the precious resource before.
“Hey, hey!” Tasha hissed. “Scoop up every last bit of it. Don’t leave even a thimbleful behind. This is all priceless medicine, okay? Wonder drugs.” She urged the others to hurry, keeping her voice low so only the other dark elves could hear.
“We know, Boss. And stop talking to us! We have to concentrate so we don’t waste a drop.” Her kinsfolk didn’t need her encouragement. They were already striving diligently with smiles on their faces to stockpile even the tiniest pinch of dead mana. Thanks to their efforts, the coast was being purified in record time.
Ignorant of all this, the soldiers were moved by the dark elves’ keen work ethic. Next, they focused their gazes on the southern tower, turning their attention to its gates. The reinforcements from Rowoon were visible through the open doorway.
“Every time I see that light, I’m amazed all over again.”
“Me too.”
A white light shone from the other side of the gate. The person surrounded by that holy luster jumped up and bowed to someone.
“Thank you so much.”
“It was nothing.” The handsome man’s gentle smile was every bit as heavenly as the light he produced.
“He’s a priest the commander brought here, right?”
“Yeah, he said he called him over because he thought we’d need someone to heal the regular soldiers.”
Despite the scar marring the skin near the priest’s eye, he looked frail rather than frightening. While he worked hard to heal Karo’s enlisted troops, the necromancer at his side assisted him with miscellaneous tasks.
As he waited for the next patient to arrive, the handsome priest touched the corners of his lips. They were twitching because he’d been smiling for too long. “Miss Mary…when will I be able to take a break?” he whispered.
“I’m not sure.”
Pendrick was disguised as a human, thanks to the magic device he’d borrowed from Tasha. He appealed to Mary in desperation, but the necromancer was stern.
“Lord Cale said you should do however much you think is appropriate to pay for your meals. And I’m happy to be able to do some good.”
Mary was merely stating a fact and sincerely expressing her feelings, but Pendrick interpreted her mechanical voice differently: When you’re helping others, are you really concerned with how much work it is for you?
Regardless of Mary’s intentions, her robotic monotone only came off as ice-cold. The elf’s already pale face blanched even further.
Meanwhile, Raon hovered invisibly beside them on Cale’s orders to act as their guard—though he’d only agreed because Choi Han and Erhaven were protecting Cale. His endless ramblings in Pendrick’s head felt like some kind of brainwashing technique. ‹Hey, elfie, let’s do our best! Helping people is fun! Let’s save everybody together!›
“Ha… Ha ha ha…”
Forcing a smile through his exhaustion, Pendrick greeted the next patient. Unfortunately for him, he looked like nothing less than a priest overjoyed at his patient’s full recovery. With no way of knowing the truth, the soldiers gazed at him with admiration.
Then their thoughts drifted to someone else.
“Funny how a priest from Rowoon’s here helping us, but our own bishop ran away.”
“Ha! And did you see how fast those other priests ran? You’d think they were ex-runners or something from the way they hightailed it outta the range of those light arrows. So much for people who claim to serve the light!”
One soldier shook his head in disbelief. “And that’s not all. After the battle, they waltzed back here and made a show of declaring they’d heal people, but even then they were only willing to heal knights or people of higher rank. All they did for the regular soldiers was toss some bandages and ointments at ’em.”
“Exactly—and they only did that much ’cause His Highness insisted on it.”
Another soldier furiously stabbed his shovel into the ground. “They sure were quick to take our money, but they ran away even faster! Those dirty bastards.”
“Hey! Cool it. The believers’ll get mad if they hear you.”
His cohort’s remark only incensed the soldier. “I’m one of those believers!” It was precisely because he believed in the God of Sun that the situation angered him so much. “I volunteered to be a soldier because I trusted the word of our god! The God of Sun says that when darkness approaches, we need to step up and be the light ourselves! That’s why I joined the army in the first place. My parents were so proud of me!”
The huffing soldier’s colleague couldn’t say anything to calm him; all he could do was pat the soldier’s drooping head. “Cheer up. The God of Sun’s light shines on this land because there are people like you.”
“For a nonbeliever, you sure speak religiously.”
“Heh, sure.”
Seeing his colleague grin, the soldier chuckled and lifted his head again. The priest was still occupied with healing more soldiers.
“I wonder which faith that priest belongs to,” the soldier mused.
“Oh! Haven’t you heard?”
“About what?”
When the soldier shot his friend a puzzled look, the other man quickly shared the gossip. “A lot of people have asked him which church he’s from. But he just silently raised his hand, and…!”
“And?”
The soldier’s friend pointed upward. “He just pointed at the sky and smiled without a word.”
“The sky?” The soldier turned his eyes to the heavens, taking in the sun swimming in a sea of blue. Its radiance made it difficult for him to keep looking up. “Nah.” He shook his head, but he still snuck another peek at the priest. The light that the man emitted was as bright as the sun itself, and his smile seemed to project the same warmth.
“Oh, right! Apparently there’s one thing he did say, though.”
The soldier faced his companion again, fighting to suppress the desperate pounding of his heart. “What’s that?”
His friend repeated the priest’s words with a thoughtful look on face. “‘The venerable one says light illuminates the darkness. It does not diminish, even if you share it. Soon, a light that can banish the darkness will arrive in this world. I’m just sharing the light with others as I wait for that moment.’”
When the soldier heard his friend’s response, his face went slack. He recalled one of the teachings of the Church of the God of Sun.
“The sun chases the darkness and shines its light upon it. The sun shines on all life without discrimination.”
The soldier’s heart thudded wildly in his chest.
His colleague patted him on the shoulder. “There, there. Let’s just get back to work.”
“…Right.”
While his colleague resumed carrying out his duties, the soldier picked up his shovel and looked up once more. Beyond the wall, he could see Castle Leona’s central tower. The sun hung in the sky above the castle’s peak as if it was an ornament.
“The sun, huh?”
With its bright rays spilling down upon him, the soldier resumed digging, his thoughts full of the God of Sun.
Meanwhile, another place felt chilly even under the sun’s warming glow.
The table inside was laden with a delicious feast. The extravagant spread was a direct reflection of the battle’s triumphant conclusion, and it signified the importance of the meeting.
Nevertheless, all was not well with Valentino, crown prince of Karo. Even with a succulent bounty arrayed before him, he was frozen in place. His soup had already gone as cold as the atmosphere in the room, but still Valentino paid it no attention; instead, he glanced at the person sitting across from him.
Cale, the object of Valentino’s scrutiny, didn’t seem to share his disinterest in the meal. With even their bodyguards stationed outside the room, the two of them were the only ones at the table, yet Cale placed bite after bite into his mouth with a relaxed, aristocratic air.
By contrast, Valentino’s hands trembled so fiercely that he couldn’t hold a spoon or a fork steady. The only thing he could wrap his shaky fingers around was the knife laid out next to the fork. His gaze fixed on its bladed edge.
“So,” Valentino said abruptly, eyeing the documents beside his soup bowl, “the dead mana bombs were created by the Mogor Empire?”
Cale went right on eating without offering a response.
Taking no offense, Valentino continued, “Then the Empire and the Indomitable Alliance are on the same side?” His expression crumpled. “But the Empire sent soldiers to us. And Adin—that bastard! He came here himself to encourage me.”
When the imperial prince’s name came up, Cale raised his head and met Valentino’s eyes. “Please eat. You’ll need a full stomach for this fight.” With those words of wisdom, he lowered his head and went back to enjoying his food.
Valentino didn’t know what to say to that. At first, he’d wanted to insist that Cale and Rowoon were lying. The evidence they provided was difficult to believe. Besides, Rowoon and Karo weren’t particularly close to begin with; he couldn’t blindly take such a kingdom at their word. His first instinct was to tell Rowoon not to interfere with the good relationship between Karo and the Empire.
Yet despite these arguments, Valentino thought before he spoke. Of all the kingdoms on the Western Continent, Rowoon’s situation was the most similar to Karo’s. As he studied Cale’s face, pale from the recent battle, he felt himself swayed.
Valentino turned his head. The dark elves and the reinforcements from Rowoon were assisting with cleanup operations down by the shoreline, and he’d heard that a priest and the necromancer were healing the common soldiers. Furthermore, Cale and his swordmaster had fought a fierce battle with their lives on the line. Although Valentino hadn’t managed to ask Cale about the fiery thunderbolt yet, the shield Cale had displayed was breathtaking in every sense of the word. To think that such a remarkable person had been wounded in the process of protecting Castle Leona…
Slowly, Valentino picked up his spoon. “You’re right. We’ll need all the energy we can get.”
While the prince stared down at the knife, Cale lifted his gaze. “Then we raise our blades.”
A moment later, Valentino set down the spoonful of soup with a clink…and picked up the entire bowl instead. In an undignified act, he drank directly from the bowl. After returning the empty dish to the table with a clack, he faced Cale.
“You can eat anything when you’re hungry enough. It can even make you desperate.”
Valentino was starving. Information, power, unfairness, anger, and betrayal—all these things formed a gnawing void in his gut. He needed to fill the emptiness inside him.
“Commander Cale, I wish to speak covertly with Crown Prince Albert.”
“Absolutely.” Picking up his knife and cutting a piece of steak, Cale added, “He’ll fill your empty stomach, Your Highness.”
Valentino swallowed as he watched the steak on Cale’s plate get carved into bite-sized pieces. When he locked eyes with Cale once again, the two men smiled at each other.
One was thinking about revenge, while the other fantasized about demolishing the Empire and the church together. Despite the different opponents on their minds, their grins were equally bright.
***
The day of Cale’s departure arrived. While not everyone from Rowoon was leaving, a portion of the mages, the knights, and the dark elves would return to their kingdom along with him. Most of the Empire’s forces were setting out as well.
“Commander.”
When Valentino seized his hands again, Cale just barely plastered on a smile for the crown prince. He certainly wouldn’t miss this behavior. “I’ll see you next time, Your Highness.”
“Yes, yes.” After offering Cale a grin that was both warm and wistful, Valentino wiped the deep emotion from his face and turned to the next person awaiting his attention with practiced pleasantry. “Thank you for all your help, Duke Huiten.”
“No need for thanks, Your Highness. You know the Mogor Empire and Karo are close friends.”
“Close friends”? Cale snorted internally at Duke Huiten’s words while admiring Valentino’s poker face. He’s a good actor.
Cale recalled what Albert had told him during last night’s chat: “Valentino? He’s quite principled. Honestly, he’s a pretty good person… But Karo is the land of casinos and auctions. Consider that he rose to power in a kingdom like that.”
Valentino was the kind of man who would curse when he was angry and weep when he was sad. He cherished the citizens of his kingdom, but he also knew how to wield fear and outrage when the situation required it. Such was Albert’s evaluation of Karo’s crown prince.People like Valentino were capable of keeping their emotions in check and forming rational judgments.
“He crunches numbers faster than anybody I’ve ever met. That’s why he won’t cut ties with us until the war is over, regardless of whether he trusts what we have to say or not. Plus…” Albert had trailed off, peering dubiously at Cale. “He seems to have been deeply moved by Rowoon.”
“Did he show his admiration with a sappy look on his face?”
Albert and Cale had shared a grimace then. For the first time in ages, they were in full agreement.
“…We wouldn’t get along.”
“Likewise.”
Back in the present, Valentino was offering his thanks and goodbyes to each leader from the Empire and Rowoon. As Cale mulled over his chat with Albert, Duke Huiten took the opportunity to approach him. “I hope we meet again.”
“The sentiment is mutual, Your Grace.” Cale most certainly would cross paths with him again soon.
“Fantastic. I’ve never seen anyone wield such a strong shield in my life. It’s an honor to count someone who possesses such profound strength among my acquaintances.”
“It’s embarrassing to hear that from a swordmaster like you, sir.”
Duke Huiten shook his head. “Not at all. I’ve reflected a great deal after watching you and your kingdom.”
As the two of them exchanged pleasantries, Duke Huiten wore a sincere smile. He turned a bit solemn, eyes sweeping over Cale’s retinue. “This is how you should build your strength.” Quietly but powerfully.
He didn’t say the rest out loud, returning his gaze to Cale.
There’s still that red thunderbolt. That power was strong enough to destroy Arm’s magic circle, but he had yet to learn who was responsible for it. Who could have commanded such an ability? It didn’t belong to the Empire, Arm, or the Indomitable Alliance, so it had to be someone from Rowoon—and the person in front of him was the heart of Rowoon’s forces.
“Ha ha, please, Your Grace. A power like that won’t be any use once the war is over.”
Duke Huiten jokingly pretended to shudder. “My, Rowoon is quite frightening.”
“What is there to be frightened of? Rowoon and the Mogor Empire are close friends. I’m wearing the proof of that friendship as we speak.” Holding the duke’s gaze, Cale pointed to the Mogor Medal of Honor pinned inside his jacket as if it were his pride and joy.
Duke Huiten smiled. Cale Henituse wasn’t just the core of Rowoon’s strength—he was the string that tied the Mogor Empire and Rowoon together. The duke could take his time investigating Rowoon; all he had to do was carefully coax the truth out of Cale.
“Ha ha ha, of course. I’m thrilled to see you wearing our Empire’s medal. Alas, I must get going now. See you next time.”
“Absolutely, Your Grace. We must meet again.” Cale emphasized his words, looking as if he truly couldn’t wait for his next visit to the Empire.
Duke Huiten hid his relief and suppressed a sneer as he walked to the magic teleportation circle’s designated area. Cale watched him leave in silence.
‹But, weak human, aren’t we gonna destroy everything in the Empire the next time we go there?›
Casually brushing Raon’s question aside, Cale touched the corners of his lips to find a genuine smile on his face. Of course it was genuine—he was telling the truth. He would go to the Mogor Empire without fail.
‹What’s on your mind? Are you thinking about blowing things up?›
Cale pretended not to hear that either, stepping onto the magic circle. Choi Han, Mary, Tasha, and Hilsmann bade him farewell with unreadable expressions.
As the teleportation circle started to vibrate, Cale closed his eyes.
***
When Cale opened his eyes again, he’d already returned to Rowoon.
“Hello, Brother.”
“Welcome back, Brother!”
“I hope you’ve been well.”
He had arrived alone at the front lines of Rowoon’s northeastern region: Henituse territory. His family had come to greet him.
‹Human! I’m back too! We’re back at house number one!›
Well, he wasn’t really alone. Raon was with him.
As Cale stepped off the teleportation circle, Deruth approached him. He gave his son a quick once-over before patting him on the shoulder. “Welcome back,” was all he said.
Cale bowed to Violan, who nodded and turned on her heel. “I had them prepare all your favorite foods, so let’s eat.” With that, she led the way toward the dining room, her husband trailing after her. Cale walked off as well, savoring the comfortable atmosphere. His siblings, Bassen and Lilly, fell into step alongside him.
“Well, Brother…”
“I didn’t get a chance to buy any souvenirs,” Cale replied, urging them to hurry with a jerk of his chin.
Bassen hesitated, then said, “I heard they’re holding a grand celebration in Whis to honor everyone from Rowoon who helped win that overwhelming victory in Karo. Why did you come back here by yourself?”
Everyone other than Cale was traveling directly from Karo to Rowoon’s capital, where a welcome parade awaited them. Bassen thought his brother deserved to attend more than anyone else, but Cale had declined and returned home alone. His parents hadn’t asked about it, but Bassen and Lilly were both curious; they wanted to know why Cale would avoid such a glorious honor. They couldn’t understand, since Cale was a source of great pride for them.
Cale frowned, as if Bassen’s question didn’t make any sense. “I’m not a fan of those overblown affairs. We won, and that’s that. I don’t need anything else.” Not to mention that if he went, he’d have to deal with the nauseating sight of people waving shields at him. Cale thanked his lucky stars that he’d wriggled out of it.
In his absence, Choi Han, Mary, and Tasha would be the center of attention. Cale knew when to step out of the spotlight. He wasn’t worried about missing the procession either.
Hilsmann, Tasha, and His Highness will take care of everything.
Vice-Captain Hilsmann, Tasha with her strong grasp of the kingdom’s politics, and the capable crown prince made for a reliable trio. With them around, Cale didn’t even have to worry about Choi Han’s atrocious acting or Mary’s purehearted goodness causing any problems.
Choi Han and Mary said they understood too. He had expected the pair to refuse, but both of them—especially Choi Han—seemed to pay careful attention to any advice or suggestions he had to offer.
“Oh, and Choi Han? If any nobles do talk to you, just ignore them. His Highness will handle it.”
“Got it. Don’t worry about me, sir.”
After observing the innocent smile on Choi Han’s face, Cale had moved on. Then he’d heard Raon ask, “Choi Han, why are you smiling like that?”
Hmm? Why’s he saying that to Choi Han? The black dragon usually reserved that comment for when Cale was about to scam someone. Cale turned to look, but he only saw Choi Han wearing that same guileless smile while Mary stood nearby with clenched fists.
“Ha ha ha! He’s right, Lord Cale,” Tasha had assured him. “Choi Han and our Mary here will do a fantastic job. The two of them are stronger than you think.”
“I know exactly how strong they are.”
“Ah ha ha ha!”
Cale had furrowed his brows then, failing to comprehend why Tasha was laughing so loudly. Next, he’d patted the final troublemaker, Hilsmann, on the shoulder before imparting a warning. “As for you, don’t go bringing up that nonsense about Lord Silverlight and whatnot.”
“Ha ha ha ha! Message received, my lord!”
The memory of Hilsmann’s guffawing wound Cale’s stomach into knots. En route to the dining room, he repeatedly muttered to himself, “Home really is the most peaceful place to be.” When he was away from home, he only ever seemed to run into trouble.
His siblings exchanged a look, but they kept their mouths shut. Their older brother’s broad back appeared quite frail today.
Cale remained blissfully ignorant of this, and soon he set about devouring the delicious meal in front of him. He only paused to answer Countess Violan’s questions every so often.
“Did Karo feed you enough, Cale?”
“Yes, they did.”
“Have you been sleeping well?”
“Mm-hmm. Well, most of the time.”
“I see. And has anybody looked down on you for not having a title?”
“Not for that, no. A bishop from the Church of the God of Sun did snub me, though.”
“…Is that so?”
Having responded honestly to all the queries leveled at him, Cale munched another bite of the juicy sausage prepared by the Henituse family chef, smiling at the taste.
Deruth looked first at the icy glint in his wife’s eyes, then at his son, who was happy because of a simple sausage. Setting down his fork, he chugged a glass of cold water to soothe his parched throat.
***
“It’s our house! It’s been so long!” Bursting with excitement, Raon zipped past Cale and headed down to the underground space where they could see the stone guardian’s villa.
Erhaven clicked his tongue as he strolled at Cale’s side. “That youngster grew in brawn but not in brain.”
At long last, they had returned to the villa beneath the Dark Forest. Cale watched the holy twins and the crazy priestess chat with Raon for a moment, then snuck a peek at Erhaven.
Feeling Cale’s eyes on him, the ancient dragon asked, “What is it?”
“That half-blood dragon from Arm… He mistook me for a half-blood dragon too.”
How could that mage mistake him for something so preposterous? The bastard’s incredibly bizarre assumption had confounded Cale. The more he wondered why someone would get that impression, the more uneasy he felt. Hence, he wanted to consult Erhaven about it.
What he got, however, was thinly veiled scorn. “You?”
Erhaven seemed to be holding back his laughter. The sight of the ancient dragon desperately trying to contain his amusement deeply wounded Cale’s pride.
The gold dragon sauntered ahead of him. “How can you be a half-blood dragon when you have that thing with you?”
Cale flinched. The subspace pouch inside his inner pocket concealed a crown—the same crown that was said to have a taste for dragon blood.
Erhaven’s soft, disbelieving chuckle carried to his ears. “You really are frightfully unlucky. You always bring back such useless things.”
Cale had no response to that—but even so, he was in awe. Erhaven wasn’t an ancient dragon for nothing; he had sensed the crown’s aura when even Raon failed to do so. Cale was quite impressed.
A feeling of relief settled over him as he came to stand in front of the quaking stone pillar. Kage, whom he hadn’t seen in person for some time, calmly informed him, “About two-fifths of the chains have snapped.”
“Looks like you used the power of the God of Death to hold it down.”
“Well, the god could do at least this much,” Kage quipped, making light of the situation. Cale turned his gaze away from her and examined the stone pillar. The stone guardian’s seal on the path was supposed to last a hundred thousand years.
No wonder it sounded like a deranged power. I can’t trust it. A hundred thousand years was laughable—the pillar looked ready to shatter at any moment.
The chains screeched incessantly even now, and the stone pillar appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Every time it bounced, Cale caught a glimpse of the eerie violet path beneath it. Certainly not a place he was keen to explore.
Cale tilted his head and glanced at Erhaven. When their eyes met, the ancient dragon said, “It seems the seal on the other side was broken. This pillar is reacting to it.”
“‘The other side’…? You mean the Eastern Continent?”
“Yes. Someone out there must be meddling with it.”
Cale’s expression darkened. Who was tampering with this stone pillar? After seeing the seal on it, anybody with power wouldn’t lay a hand on it. Was this another of Arm’s escapades?
He peered at Erhaven, brimming with hope. The ancient dragon had sensed the crown in Cale’s possession; surely he would know how to handle this. “What should we do, Lord Erhaven?”
Erhaven replied immediately, as if there was no room for debate. “What else? Don’t worry about it.”
With the way he reassured Cale, the dragon radiated dependability. Cale thought he could see the wisdom of his long years reflected in his face. He waited eagerly to hear Erhaven’s solution.
With a gentle smile, Erhaven declared, “We’ll destroy it ourselves.”
“Ooh, you’re a genius, Goldie! Let’s blow it up!”
Just like that, Cale’s faith in this wise old dragon was blown to smithereens.
Chapter 49: But It’s More Comfortable Here
Chapter 49:
But It’s More Comfortable Here
DESPITE HIS MISGIVINGS, Cale clung to the fraying threads of hope he possessed and took another look at the stone pillar. In addition to the giant slab of rock and the magic circle traced in dark red on the ground around its base, the disintegrating chains caught his eye.
“Destroy the chains?” That had to be what Erhaven meant, right? Cale shifted his eyes back to Erhaven’s face to find the ancient dragon grinning.
“No, the stone pillar.”
Cale had never laid eyes on such a reckless ancient dragon.
“Yes, Goldie!” Raon exclaimed, fluttering his wings. “Let’s destroy it all!”
Were all dragons obsessed with destruction? Cale looked between the buoyant Raon, the amused Kage, and the antsy Hana, who kept clenching and unclenching her fist. The only one who seemed concerned was Saint Jack.
Cale heaved a sigh. I’m the only normal person here.
“What if that leads to monsters coming over from the other side?” he asked.
The Dark Forest was chock-full of mutant monsters. Monsters from the Eastern Continent had traveled to the Western Continent using this very passageway. Then, when the Scary Stone’s owner built his villa in this underground cave, he had set up the stone pillar to seal the path. It stood to reason that if the seal was broken, it would be possible for monsters to cross over again.
Not to mention my house will be demolished. Cale couldn’t help feeling sullen.
“Cale Henituse.” Adopting a solemn air, Erhaven pointed a finger at himself. “I am a dragon. I can simply seal the portal again. It’s not particularly difficult.”
The one who created this seal in the first place was only human. While the seal was unique and powerful even in Erhaven’s eyes, it was still a human construct.
Cale gazed at the ancient dragon with golden hair. Erhaven offered a relaxed smile, and Raon sidled up to them. “I’ll be able to do it soon too, human. I can do it right away after I watch how the gold dragon does it! I’m really good at learning!”
“Dear Lord,” Jack interjected. “Dragons truly are great and mighty.”
As the two dragons looked at him, Cale gestured to the stone pillar. “Let’s destroy it, then.”
Fine. Whatever. Destroy it all.
The stone pillar looked fit to explode in an instant. But once again, the ancient dragon defied Cale’s expectations.
“As you wish,” Erhaven replied.
Fssshhh. With a wave of the gold dragon’s hand, gray dust floated into the air. Inch by inch, from the top down, the large stone pillar disintegrated into dust. Cale shivered as he watched it disappear without a sound.
Screech. Screech.
“Ugh!” The crazy priestess Kage clamped her hands over her ears. Hana was already covering Jack’s ears as well.
Screech. Screech. Screech.
A metallic screeching reminiscent of fingernails on a chalkboard sliced through the plaza. The noise didn’t come from the stone pillar, the talismans surrounding it, or even the chains—its source was the dark-red magic circle on the ground. The circle emitted a high-pitched shriek as it warped, emanating an ominous aura.
“This is a result of the seal breaking. It’ll stop soon,” Erhaven told them.
Just as he’d said, the noise cut off shortly thereafter. The talismans and chains rose up as the stone pillar faded into nothingness, leaving not a single trace behind.
With a grunt, Cale took a reflexive step back. He couldn’t help it; his body felt strange, as if it was pounding from head to toe.
The voices of the stone guardian and the gluttonous priestess sounded off in his mind.
“Are you trying to sacrifice yourself?”
“Looks like I’ve gotta eat something again.”
His heart started hammering madly against his ribs as the Energy of the Heart activated. At the same time, the Fire of Destruction and the Sound of the Wind manifested around his hands and feet.
Cale realized why this was happening.
Erhaven’s hand and Raon’s paw came to rest on Cale’s shoulders.
“Weak human, what’s going on?” Raon demanded.
“Must you really ask, youngster? It’s the path’s doing.”
Raon’s wide eyes flitted to the glowing purple path. A vast, cavernous tunnel had appeared on the ground. “Is it because of the eerie aura coming out of there? Human, you’re too weak! Even the saint over there is fine!”
Erhaven pried the noisy young dragon off Cale with a click of his tongue, then gave the redhead a pat.
Huh? Cale felt himself calming down. The Energy of the Heart and all the other Ancient Powers gradually stabilized.
“That portal is extremely volatile, Cale Henituse. That must be why incomplete entities react to it so strongly.” The ancient dragon looked into Cale’s eyes. “Your water Ancient Power… That’s an object you possess rather than something your vessel holds, isn’t it? Because of that, your body is incomplete.”
Upon thumping Cale on the shoulder, Erhaven had enveloped him in water magic to balance him out.
The Ancient Power Cale had yet to find crossed his mind, as did the crown he intended to use afterward. “I’m okay now,” he said.
At that, Erhaven released him and ambled toward the passageway with Cale following behind him. The moment Erhaven peered inside, he blurted out, “Huh?”
Something within had startled him.
“What’s—” Cale’s question died in his throat once he too saw the interior.
“Don’t look, Jack!” The fake saintess quickly tried to shield her brother, but he had already seen it.
“This is terrible…” he mumbled.
Even Kage couldn’t help but frown at the sight.
Erhaven’s gaze darkened. “There must have been a battle.”
Innumerable skeletons packed the passage, glowing in the light from the depths of the violet cavern. The remains filled the massive space and blocked out the walls, with only a tiny gap between them.
Somehow these skeletons hadn’t decayed over the centuries. They came in all sizes, with some larger ones reaching roughly Cale’s height. While he had no way of knowing what creatures these bones belonged to, he could at least see that they were huge.
The experts—Erhaven, Hana, and Raon—gleaned something else.
The ancient dragon’s hushed voice washed over them. “A single person killed them all.”
A single human, to be exact.
The path ran so deep that they couldn’t see the end from the entrance. Erhaven realized that one person alone was responsible for flooding its entire length with bones. After all, he knew it too.
Erhaven looked at Cale. “You ate this power, right?”
Cale was too busy staring at the legions of skeletons to answer. He could see the weapons that had killed these creatures: Gargantuan stone spears numbering in the hundreds—no, the thousands—had pierced through the bones and pinned the monsters to the cave walls. The assault only left enough space for a single person to pass through their midst.
One person came to Cale’s mind: the stone guardian. He still didn’t know anything about the Scary Stone. Cale had no desire to sacrifice himself, so he’d never responded to the ancient’s question. Today, at last, he had witnessed a portion of its capabilities.
“He must have been an average-sized person,” Erhaven said, basing his judgment on what he could see inside the cave. Only a single grown human could squeeze between the bones and stone spears. “Quite strong too, especially considering he fought against multitudes.”
As Erhaven scanned the tunnel, a question occurred to him. “But how did he get in?”
“Exactly,” Cale said. An inexplicable feeling came over him, almost like intuition. Humans couldn’t go through this portal. When Cale arrived here for the first time, the owner of the Scary Stone had shared some information about the pillar.
“But the path wouldn’t admit humans, elves, or even dwarves. Only monsters could use it. My friends and I couldn’t decipher its mysteries. All we could do was barricade either end of the path to prevent the strongest mutants from taking it. I protected the western end.”
That ancient had said that only monsters could enter this passage. Did that mean the wielder of these stone spears was someone else? No. It’s definitely the stone guardian. Cale’s gut told him so; these rock-hewn projectiles were the stone’s power.
“It’s an enigma,” Erhaven said.
“Sure is.”
Cale had been echoing Erhaven’s sentiments for a while now. Such was the extent of his capacity for speech at the moment. Aside from that one word, he had no other way to express himself.
“I should go inside, then.”
“Yep… What?” Cale turned to Erhaven. “But only monsters can go in there.”
“I’m a dragon.”
Cale had no rebuttal.
“But I can’t go!” Raon protested.
Erhaven scoffed. “I’m closer to perfection than any other being in this world. You haven’t even gone through your first growth phase yet, youngster.”
“I can’t argue with that!” Raon admitted, and Erhaven chuckled.
“I’ll figure out where in the Eastern Continent this leads,” he said, stepping toward the opening. Before he could set out on his way, Cale stopped him.
“Say, Lord Erhaven.”
“What?”
“Why don’t we set up a teleportation circle by that entrance?”
“Why?”
Cale answered Erhaven’s obvious question in a patient tone. “So I can go too.”
He needed to go to the Eastern Continent to find out more about the Judging Water and Arm’s forces. The problem was that Cale knew absolutely nothing about the place. The parts of Birth of a Hero that Kim Roksu had read didn’t discuss the Eastern Continent in much detail.
“All right, I understand. Wait here.” Erhaven then descended into the tunnel.
Cale plopped down on the ground. He wasn’t worried about the ancient dragon, and he knew Raon wouldn’t go anywhere.
“I’ll wait here with you, human!”
“Sure.”
Cale sprawled out lazily on the cave floor. Home really was the best. It felt remarkably relaxing to lie down in his front yard.
Jack and Kage dropped off a basket of food for the pair, then took their leave.
***
A few days later, Erhaven returned. His perplexed expression suggested he’d seen many peculiar things.
“What’s with that look?” Cale asked.
They were currently in the underground cavern, but he was seated on a pillowy couch from who-knew-where, feasting on fruit. Raon sat beside him, patting his full stomach and studying a book about the Eastern Continent’s languages.
Erhaven boggled at the sight. “My word…”
After the conversation that followed, Cale understood why Erhaven looked so aghast. He now had a better idea of what to expect when he stepped onto the teleportation circle.
In the meantime, the group bound for the Eastern Continent bustled around him.
“It’s been a while since our last trip!”
“This is my first time going to the Eastern Continent!”
“Just trust in me! The great and mighty Raon Mir has memorized all the Eastern Continent’s languages!”
“Our youngest is so smart!”
The giddy trio of Ohn, Hong, and Raon chatted among themselves as they circled Cale, but he didn’t spare them a glance. His gaze was directed elsewhere. It made sense for Erhaven to come along, but his other party members left something to be desired.
The Eastern Continent was a land of mystery, so they needed someone familiar with the area to accompany them. Therefore, Cale was bringing Ron and Vicross with them. Ron in particular would have a good grasp on the lay of the land.
Next, since Choi Han was absent and Erhaven wasn’t easy to boss around, he needed some extra muscle. Another swordmaster was joining him.
“Be careful out there, Hana,” said Jack.
“I will. Use the communication device if there’s an emergency. I’ll come back right away and kill them all.”
“Ha ha, you fret over me too much! Why would you need to kill anybody? There’s nothing to worry about.”
Cale’s brow wrinkled when he heard Hana’s vicious comment. Their eyes met, and the swordswoman smirked at him. “Thanks. I’ve been feeling itchy these few days.”
What do you mean by “itchy”…? Cale wanted to ask but decided he’d better not. Instead he motioned to Erhaven, who activated the magic circle. The array was supersized to accommodate intercontinental teleportation. He’d also cast an enchantment on the circle that would allow them to speak and understand the Eastern Continent’s common tongue. It was a complicated spell, even for an ancient dragon.
The magic circle rippled beneath them.
“Have a safe trip.”
“Come back soon!”
As Kage and Jack said their goodbyes, Cale surrendered his body to the magic circle.
“It’ll probably be the crack of dawn when we arrive,” Erhaven said.
Heeding the gold dragon’s words, Cale closed his eyes.
A moment later, he was standing atop a mountain.
“The sun is coming up.”
Cale could see it too—the dawn of a new day. Early risers were probably already awake and off to work.
He pivoted, taking his time. A large stone pillar entered his line of sight, with broken chains and the remnants of talismans strewn alongside it.
As Cale took in this stone pillar’s condition, he laughed incredulously. “Goodness.”
Just then, a voice called from behind him. “Wh-who are you?!”
Cale turned his head. Below the peak, he could make out several dozen houses around the middle of the mountain. Clusters of people flowed to and fro between the buildings. A group of them was heading up to where he stood, bearing sculpting tools and axes. Facing them, Cale met their gazes.
“I-I said, who the hell are you guys?”
He studied their outfits. There were five of them, dressed in clothes made of animal fur and hides and armed with handcrafted arrows, dull swords, and hatchets.
“Ha.” They were obviously mountain bandits. Thanks to Cale’s years of experience reading fantasy novels and his own encounter with bandits on his way to the capital, he was certain of it.
Erhaven spoke up. “That settlement appears to be a bandit hideout.”
These hideouts served as bandit hubs and storehouses for the loot they’d pillaged. All of the people milling about had been part of this gang of brigands.
As Cale peeked behind him once again, he understood what had left Erhaven so dumbfounded on his first visit. The imposing stone pillar was in the process of being chiseled into a sculpture. Though it was only partially completed, Cale thought it resembled a tough mountain bandit with a giant axe in his hand. The bandits all looked like minions, so the one depicted in the unfinished statue must have been their leader. It was simple deductive reasoning.
The bandits piped up again. “What’s with this pale fella, this lame-looking guy, and these old fogeys?”
“How dare you punks intrude on the mountain of the Indomitable Ruler?!”
“The ‘Indomitable Ruler’ must be their leader,” Erhaven noted.
Cale sighed. Why did the name have to include “Indomitable”? He was tired of that word.
Nevertheless, this situation was fortuitous.
“Ron,” Cale said.
“Yes?”
“Doesn’t your intuition as someone who once lived on the Eastern Continent tell you they’re mountain bandits?”
“That does seem to be the case, young master.”
Cale looked at Vicross, who was already putting on a pair of white gloves. When their eyes met, the chef asked mildly, “Shall I take care of this?”
Cale then glanced to his other side to find the grinning Hana fiddling with her scabbard. Ohn and Hong, probably accompanied by the invisible Raon, observed the scenery as if this discussion didn’t interest them.
Finally, Cale turned back to the bandits. There was no reason to spill blood when they hadn’t done anything to harm his party. He had no desire to hurt anyone, and he didn’t want to grow desensitized to killing. At the same time, he didn’t have any up-to-date information about the Eastern Continent.
In that case, he just needed to loot them.
“Take off your gloves, Vicross,” he said. “Ron, Hana.”
His eyes briefly lingered on the hideout. Such wonderful new friends had come to greet him! It was only polite to accept their welcome.
“How about we start with a simple introduction?” Cale beamed at the bandits. “Greetings, friends!”
With no risk of running into anybody he knew around here, he didn’t have to worry about appearances. He’d opted for the most direct course of action…and it started with extorting these bandits.
***
The corners of Cale’s lips twitched.
‹Human, you’re smiling like that again!›
“It’s that weird smile of his!”
“He always smiles that way when he’s excited.”
Raon, Hong, and Ohn all spoke one after another, but Cale tuned them out.
Tat. Tat. Tat. This light noise was the sound of Vicross brushing the dust from his white gloves—though in truth, they weren’t very dirty to begin with. The five people kneeling in front of Cale grew paler each time they heard it.
Even so, none of the five bore any injuries or bloodstains to speak of.
Ron had only laughed innocuously before snapping his hand out to grab each of them by the throat.
“I’m itching to fight,” Hana complained.
A few of the trees nearby had been pulverized by her blade, which hadn’t gotten any action. The dust Vicross was busy brushing off of his gloves and garments had been stirred up by Hana’s attacks. The sight of Hana’s golden aura and black smoke had the haggard group of bandits quaking in terror.
Having confirmed that his outfit was spotless, Vicross asked Cale, “What should we do? Should we torture them?”
The kneeling brigands gasped. Fortunately for them, Cale had no intention of listening to the vicious chef; he pitied the petrified fellows. He too would think twice before challenging the combination of Hana, Ron, and Vicross.
Cale leaned against a boulder, smiling gently as he addressed his captive audience. “Don’t be afraid, okay?”
All five of them refused to meet his eyes, staring hard at the ground.
“Why won’t you look at me? We can’t chat if you don’t, hmm? I assure you, I’m not a scary person.” Erhaven’s translation magic would go to waste if he didn’t get to use it effectively.
The bandits shakily raised their gazes to find the red-haired man grinning at them.
He’s the scariest one of all!
This group had experience, and all of them had been surviving off banditry for at least a year. They had encountered plenty of strong individuals during that time, but this party was mightier than anything they could imagine—and the redhead at the helm of this extraordinary crew made them feel like candles in the midst of a storm.
Cale pointed at the bandit kneeling in the center, singling out his victim. “You.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Answer my question.”
I don’t want to. I really don’t want to. But I’m afraid he’ll kill me if I don’t!
“Wh-why me? Th-there’s other people here too. This is my f-first year, so I don’t know much!” the bandit stuttered. He watched, despairing, as Cale’s head tilted to the side.
“Because I feel like it. What’s the matter? You don’t want to?” Cale asked. If this bandit was really so reluctant, he figured he could just ask someone else instead. There were five of them, after all; he’d get his answers eventually.
“N-no, not at all! Please ask away!”
The bandit threw himself into a full-on bow before Cale. The sudden prostrating made Cale a little uncomfortable, but seeing as the bandit seemed so passionate about answering his question, he decided to go ahead and ask. He’d already heard this mountain’s approximate location on the Eastern Continent from Erhaven, so he focused on something else.
“Tell me ten misdeeds that your group has committed in the past month.”
“…Sorry?”
I thought you said you had a question! Quivering, the bandit looked past Cale at Vicross, who was quietly pulling on a fresh pair of white gloves.
His desperate voice echoed from the mountaintop, near the stone pillar. “One! We robbed a small merchant guild’s carriage two days ago!” He glanced at his cohorts before pressing on. “Two! We robbed some passing travelers blind! There were a lot of people on the roads this month! We believe in equality, so we snatched all the money they had whether they were rich or poor! I can’t even count how many people we robbed this month!
“Three! Whenever a midsize merchant guild came through, we charged crazy high tolls! We pretty much emptied their pockets! We didn’t make an exception even if the merchant cried!”
“You’re even worse than me,” said Hana, her black-webbed face sneering. “You all deserve to get your asses beat.”
Her words made the bandit’s hands shake, but Cale’s gaze urged him to go on reporting the group’s misdeeds.
“Ten! We took out a big-name merchant guild’s carriage with logs! Then we stole the money inside and used it to buy booze and fool around!”
When the bandit finished, Cale asked him another question. “What about human trafficking or the slave trade?”
“We don’t do that,” the bandit replied without hesitation.
“Why?”
Are we supposed to?! The bandit reeled for a moment before responding, “B-because our boss is a former slave.”
Cale’s eyes glimmered. “Oh?”
“That’s why we k-kill any slave traders we find traveling the mountain.” Cale’s smile frightened the bandit so badly that he rushed to add, “As for the slaves, we, uh…we set them free or let them join our group. I-I didn’t report that because it’s a good deed, not a bad one.”
Cale peered at the bandit. “You’re oddly nefarious folk.”
I mean, since when are bandits supposed to be upstanding citizens? The bandit couldn’t understand Cale at all.
Still, his interrogation didn’t stop there. “Tell me everything about this place and your organization.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Clank. Clank. The sound of the swordmaster flicking her sword in and out of its scabbard made it impossible for the bandit to decline. The morning sun was beating down on his back, but he felt chilled to the bone.
After listening to all of the information he provided, Cale said, “So, you’re telling me that your band’s in control of this mountain, Mount Liv. You call yourselves the Indomitable Bandits, and your leader’s nickname is the Indomitable Ruler?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What atrocious names.”
“Excuse me?”
Ignoring the bandit’s flustered reaction, Cale sank into his thoughts. So the mountain that hosted the large stone pillar was named Mount Liv…
“It’s a mountain in the northwestern region of the continent,” Erhaven had told him. “I don’t have many reasons to visit the Eastern Continent, so even I’d never heard of it. As mountains go, it’s fairly normal. A good number of merchants and travelers pass through every so often.”
At that point, a question had occurred to Cale. As if reading his mind, Erhaven had gone on, “But it’s curious… That place isn’t as dangerous as the Dark Forest, so why is the stone pillar there? I didn’t even see any monsters. In fact, other than those bandits, it’s a peaceful mountain. How strange.”
Cale shared the same sentiment. The bandits were able to rule the mountain, and because there were no monsters, people could traverse its roads. Yet this was where the stone guardian had placed the seal meant to repel the monsters of this continent.
Has the Eastern Continent changed since ancient times? That was the only explanation Cale could come up with. Even so, the stab of irritation Cale felt was only natural.
He pointed to the pillar behind him. “You defaced this stone pillar because your leader’s birthday is coming up, and you wanted to carve a sculpture for him as a gift?”
The bandit glanced anxiously at his companions. “That’s right. W-we thought only the boss’s image should be at the top of the mountain.”
“I see.” Cale smiled brightly.
Over the past several days, he’d been forced to listen to a nonstop refrain of the stone guardian asking if he planned to sacrifice himself. He’d been horribly concerned that his house would be destroyed. And to top it all off, he’d come all the way here to the Eastern Continent. The mental anguish deserved compensation all on its own.
And what was the reason for it all? Why, these bandits wanted to carve a statue for their leader!
“…I’m going to steal every last thing you have.”
When the bandit saw the sudden fury on Cale’s face, he curled in on himself in terror.
“I’m a conscientious guy,” Cale continued. “When I see people doing bad things, I can’t just look the other way.”
What kind of bullshit is that? As that thought raced through the bandits’ minds, Cale slowly got to his feet, causing the sun’s rays to hit them without mercy. All the brigands gulped in unison when Cale gestured behind them. They turned around one painstaking step at a time to see that he was pointing down the slope, toward their base at the mountain’s midpoint.
“Lead the way.”
Cale’s voice brought tears to their eyes. He followed the bandits at a leisurely pace, stroking Hong, who was in his arms.
‹What are we going to do now, human?›
As if he didn’t have a care in the world, Cale answered, “We need a house in the Eastern Continent too.”
The bandits flinched, then hastened their steps.
‹Is Mount Liv gonna be our new house?› Raon asked excitedly.
Cale didn’t deign to reply.
***
The bandits’ hideout was relatively large and built about halfway up Mount Liv. High-quality wooden fences had been erected in front of the community to guard against intruders.
When a group of people appeared before the barrier, a few bandits who were perched on the fence raised their voices. “Who goes there? Who’s got the nerve to show up to this place?!”
Some scowled, shouting, “You traitors! How dare you bring outsiders here!”
Recently, the five bandits had been getting up early to finish the sculpture. The sight of them guiding strangers to the hideout instead of completing their task enraged the others. It was obvious that fear had compelled them to bring this party of strangers here; they all approached with their heads hung low.
Bwoooo, bwoooo.
A horn blew, and the hideout erupted into activity. This was the first time intruders had arrived on their own feet, but the bandits at the wooden fence seemed to be taking it in stride.
“You think you can take us down with those measly numbers? Ha ha ha, there’s no way in hell!”
“Three of ’em even look old or weak!”
Ron’s, Erhaven’s, and Cale’s eyebrows all twitched.
“Or are you coming to surrender to us? Ah ha ha ha!”
As more of their companions taunted Cale’s group from the fence, the five bandits’ faces grew paler and paler.
“On your knees if you don’t wanna die! If you do that, we’ll at least let you keep your life!”
When one of the five bandits heard a friend’s voice join the heckling, he blurted out, “Y-you should shut up if you want to keep your head! You stupid idiots!” His voice brimmed with anger and frustration.
“Wh-what?” The bandits who’d been happily mocking the strangers from their posts along the fence grew flustered—and the scene that followed left them even more flabbergasted.
“Y-you don’t have a clue! Ngh!” The rookie bandit who’d had to speak with Cale earlier could no longer hold back his tears; he was sobbing outright.
Cale patted the bandit on the shoulder. “You’re quite the crybaby.”
The bandit’s disbelief wasn’t enough to stop his weeping. He’d believed their boss was the scariest person in the world, but he was wrong. He had never met such terrifying people in his life.
“Who goes there?!”
Just as that thought flickered through his mind, the bandit heard the voice of the person he’d once regarded as the scariest. The bandit leader appeared at the fence.
Cale turned toward the source of that brash, booming voice. This was the leader of the Indomitable Bandits, the Indomitable Ruler. That was what people called him. Nobody knew his real name, but rumor had it that there was a brand on his right arm marking him as a former slave.
“And our boss is extremely strong—though he, um, doesn’t seem to measure up to all of you.”
Cale had been curious to learn the capabilities of this former slave turned large bandit troupe leader. But the moment he set eyes on the man in question, he frowned.
In his mind, Raon asked, ‹Doesn’t that bandit leader remind you of someone, human?›
He did, in fact, resemble someone they knew. That person’s face immediately popped into Cale’s head.
“Oho.” The leader’s eyes sparkled. Leaning his massive axe against his shoulder, he grinned widely. “Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! I haven’t seen punks like this in a while!” His gaze passed over Hana and Vicross before coming to rest on Cale, who seemed to be the boss. “I can smell it.”
Wow. They really are two peas in a pod. He and the brash barbarian were cut from the same cloth.
Just as that thought occurred to Cale, Raon’s voice entered his thoughts again. The black dragon had finally remembered the person in question. ‹Oh, it’s Bob!›
The leader stepped on the fence. With a roar of “I smell it! The scent of strength!” he leapt off.
Thud. At nearly two meters in height, the man had a giant, muscular physique riddled with scars. His brown hair bristled out in all directions like a lion’s mane.
‹Bob! I mean, Tunka! He’s like that idiot!›
Cale chuckled incredulously. The large man who’d jumped from the fence cackled in turn as he peered at Cale—or more specifically, at Vicross and Hana.
“Heh heh heh heh, you must be strong. I can smell it.”
Cale recalled how Tunka had charged at Witira after saying the same thing. His actions had landed him in a dangerous situation, like plankton caught between two fighting whales.
Ultimately, Cale had come to the Eastern Continent because he feared that this person who resembled Tunka would destroy his villa. While he still sought to learn more about Arm and the Judging Water, his anxiety about his house’s imminent decimation was on the forefront of his mind.
Cale let out a refreshing laugh. “Ha ha ha!” He knew the best way to handle people like this. Patting Vicross on the shoulder, he said, “Capture him and punch him just three times.”
Silence descended upon the base. A moment later, someone’s loud guffaw cut through the stillness. “Ha ha ha! You’re gonna catch me and beat me up? Ah ha ha ha, ohh, you sure are funny fellas.”
The giant axe in the crook of the bandit leader’s arm slammed down on the ground with a mighty thud as he narrowed his eyes at Cale.
“I hate it when weaklings run their mouths and push others around.”
He came from a place that kept slaves locked up and forced them to fight: the gladiator arena. It was in that arena that he’d been pitted against his sworn younger brother—the one who had given him a reason to smile until that very day.
The bandit leader had to survive in that hell from the time he was twelve years old. The scumbags who made him fight his sworn brother were cowards who gave orders with a jab of a finger even though they didn’t smell strong at all.
“Killing bastards like you always feels great!” His bulky body lurched into motion.
The bandit Cale had consoled sucked in a breath when he saw his boss rushing in, axe at the ready. To the brigands, the man-sized weapon was both a symbol of his immense strength and a source of fear. Even merchants quaked in fright when they saw it.
A-am I going to die? Should I dodge? A maelstrom of thoughts clashed in the rookie bandit’s head, but he was rooted to the spot.
Then he heard someone’s voice. “What nonsense are you spouting?”
The rookie bandit turned his head to find an expression of deep offense on Cale’s face. Why does he look like the victim here?!
Heedless to the bandit’s confusion, Cale sincerely felt insulted. Since when do I run my mouth and push others around? If only that were his reality! Why would he have come all the way to the Eastern Continent, then? He would’ve crawled right into bed and never budged for anything!
Baffled and annoyed, Cale thrust out his hand more passionately than ever before.
Boooom!
A deafening explosion rocked the mountain. The rookie bandit gaped in slack-jawed astonishment at the sight before him: The bandit leader’s axe had been blocked by a shield extending from Cale’s body, unable to advance—and it hadn’t even left a scratch on the shield’s surface.
As Cale watched from the other side of the shield, the bandit leader clenched his fists. He didn’t know if this shield was made of magic or something else, but his palm prickled with numbness the moment his axe struck it. As one born with divine strength, he’d never felt pain or lacked for physical prowess. He’d even defeated most middle-tier knights. But now, for the first time in his life, he sensed that he wasn’t strong enough.
The bandit leader met the redhead’s frosty gaze, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “Heh heh heh.”
Yes, he recognized this feeling. It was this sensation, not his god-given strength, that had allowed a boy like him who couldn’t even lift a sword to rise up from the bottom of the gladiators’ ranks. This was the kind of thrill one experienced when walking on a tightrope.
He had killed his sworn brother in the end. Though he’d felt sorrow in that moment, dreading the thought of being alone, he’d also felt a rush of pleasure—satisfaction at defeating his sworn brother, who’d been stronger than him.
He was a twisted guy.
A brilliant smile appeared on his face as he chuckled. “So you weren’t a weakling after all. You’re strong too.”
At last, Cale opened his mouth. “You wouldn’t even reach his ankles.”
What?
As the bandit leader stared quizzically at Cale, he continued, “I owe Tunka an apology.”
Who? The bandit leader scowled. Did his opponent really have the leeway to talk about someone else while he was standing right here? He hefted his axe once more…but just then, he felt a presence at his back.
Chills skittered through his nerves. The bandit leader flinched, twisting his body, but he was already too late.
“Ghk!”
As his large body fell backward, a white-gloved hand snagged him in a choke hold. No matter how he tried to struggle, his resistance proved futile; the gloved man dragged him forward effortlessly.
He shifted his gaze to the side as he stumbled, catching sight of a man’s eyes. Dressed in pristine clothing and wielding a greatsword in his gloved hand, the man stared down at the bandit leader with coldness and disdain.
“Have you bathed lately?” the man asked bluntly.
“What kind of bullsh—ugh!” The bandit leader’s fall changed course as he was smacked sideways—the flat of a blade had struck him, delivering a shock to his body.
Bam! The bandit leader crashed into the wooden fence.
“Ahhh! The ground is shaking! Hold on!”
“Hey, grab on to me!”
The bandits leaning over the railing held on for dear life; anxiety, fear, and bewilderment flitted across their faces. Uninterested in their emotional display, Vicross looked at Cale.
“Two more hits,” Cale said.
With a sigh, Vicross put on a new pair of white gloves and approached the bandit leader.
The bandit leader groaned and slowly pushed himself up off the ground. The wooden fence now sported a giant boss-shaped dent, but as someone with a naturally gifted physique, he hadn’t suffered a single visible injury. His internal organs, on the other hand, were still shaken by the impact.
“What the hell?”
His surprise was plain on his face. His insides still throbbed from the force of the collision, but the rattling of his brain was worse. He gripped his axe with trembling hands and watched Vicross stalk toward him.
He’d expected the enemy to be strong, but not this strong. What are such incredible people doing at Mount Liv?
He clenched his fist and grinned. All he needed to do was defeat these formidable foes. If he could do that, he’d be able to taste that pleasure again.
Cale, for his part, heaved a sigh. “Tunka’s definitely stronger.”
Since this bandit leader and Tunka seemed so similar, Cale had expected more from him. Yet this guy couldn’t even reach Tunka’s figurative ankles, let alone his full height. Cale supposed that was probably why he’d fallen into banditry.
“Don’t you think Vicross is strong too, young master?”
“Why are you asking something so obvious?” Cale casually deflected Ron’s query with one of his own, his eyes on Vicross.
Ron’s talent lay in using his dagger for assassination, but his son Vicross preferred a greatsword. Using the knowledge passed down from his father, the son had forged his own path.
Despite wielding such a large weapon, Vicross fought without making a sound. His bladework was as pristine as his appearance, with an elegance that outshone most knights’. He attacked as if he knew which parts of the human body could suffer the most pain, striking with the same flourish he might display when garnishing an exquisite entrée. All of these traits combined to form a sword style unique to Vicross’s character.
Bam! Another loud crash rang out. The axe went flying as Vicross’s palm struck at the back of the bandit leader’s head. Pow!
“That’s two.”
The hit from behind sent the bandit leader sprawling forward. “Ugh!” Rage and intense head-splitting pain had his eyes blazing.
Feeling so weak and powerless made him remember how he’d fought for his life as a young gladiator. Before his body hit the ground, he grabbed a handful of dirt. He didn’t care if it was cowardly—this was his path to survival.
Prior to impact, he twisted in midair and locked eyes with Vicross. As his hand moved, he heard the red-haired man’s stunned voice.
“Huh?”
The bandit leader smirked. Yes! If I can’t get at least one attack in, I don’t deserve the title of Indomitable Ruler!
Using this skill would soothe some of his fury. He flung the dirt at Vicross’s eyes. The dirt launched into the air as the bandit leader’s body collided with the earth.
Bam.
Though he’d landed hard, the bandit leader laughed where he lay as he took in the sight of Vicross covered in dirt. Now that formerly spotless elite was as filthy as he was.
Right then, the red-haired man’s voice reached his ears once more “Poor punk.”
What? The bandit leader sensed that something was off.
The dirt-smeared Vicross glared viciously at him. “Do you have a death wish?”
His fuming turned the bandit leader’s body to ice. “Wh-what?!”
With a swoosh, the long blade pierced the ground next to him, stabbing deep into the soil.
Vicross took off his white gloves and hurled them to the ground, glowering at the wide-eyed bandit leader all the while.“I won’t kill you or make you bleed. I won’t even torture you.”
What? Torture me?! While the bandit leader gaped at him, stupefied, Vicross raised a finger.
One. It could have meant the one hit remaining before he fulfilled Cale’s order…but Vicross had something else in mind.
“One hundred hits,” Vicross said. “Just endure another hundred hits.”
Upon hearing as much, Cale developed a sudden fascination with a faraway mountain.The pounding rhythm that followed suited the beautiful scenery surprisingly well.
Pow, pow, pow!
“Ahhh! Please! Stop! I’m sorry—ugh!”
Beneath the bandit leader’s screams, Cale heard the rookie bandit beside him mumbling, “See? I told you not to pick a fight. You have no idea what you’re dealing with…”
The bandit’s face went from pasty white to a sickly shade of blue when Cale patted him on the shoulder, but Cale paid no attention, looking over at the wooden fence instead. The other bandits flinched under his scrutiny, clinging to the ledge or their weapons. Their eyes swam with fear and despair.
After watching their leader take more than fifty hits, the bandits quietly opened the gate for Cale’s party.
***
Cale soon became the owner of the best house in the area—the bandit leader’s home—along with the expensive leather furniture inside.
“Hey.”
The bandit leader, now sporting two black eyes, bowed respectfully to Cale. “Yes, sir!” His face was badly bruised, but his body bore no scratches, blood, or broken bones.
Taking a bite out of some fruit that one of the sculpting bandits had brought him, Cale asked, “You guys run Mount Liv?”
“Yes, siree!”
“Speak normally.”
“Yes, sir! I mean, Big Bro!”
“Why am I your big bro?”
“I’m sorry! Boss!”
Jeez, why am I suddenly the boss? Cale was exasperated. It was too annoying to argue the point, though, so he just let it go. “There’s something I want all of you to do for me, starting today.”
The bandit leader gulped, but Cale was looking at someone else. The formerly indomitable bandit followed Cale’s gaze, finding an old man wearing a benign smile. Though he seemed fit for his age, he struck the bandit as a bookish sort who only happened to know how to use the dagger at his side. Vicross and Hana both emanated martial prowess from the get-go, but this old man didn’t seem strong at all.
Who’s this geezer? Is he their strategist or something?
While the former bandit leader scowled at the man in confusion, Cale said, “He’s Vicross’s father.”
The bandit leader immediately pasted on a radiant smile and offered Ron a polite greeting. “Oh! Pardon me, good sir! Nice to meet you!”
Cale went on impassively, “I hear an organization has taken control of the Eastern Continent’s underworld.”
“Th-that’s right, sir…”
Living in the mountains, the bandits needed to keep abreast of events in the underworld to sell their stolen goods. For the last decade or so, one organization’s involvement had shaken up the status quo. Those savvy enough to realize that a new power was calling the shots were busy protecting their own interests.
Yet trade continued to flow freely, as the underworld existed in the shadows. Even if a single organization seized control, one would be hard-pressed to say it was completely unified; the Eastern Continent’s underworld was just that kind of place.
“You’re called the Indomitable Ruler?”
“Er, yes.” His intuition as the former leader of the bandits, not to mention an experienced gladiator, was buzzing.
I have a bad feeling about this. Cale’s pearly whites only seemed to validate the misgivings the bandit leader felt in his gut.
“Wh-why do you ask, sir?”
With a wide grin, Cale declared, “As of today, you’ll be another one of the underworld’s rulers.”
“Excuse me?”
“And this man will be your ruler.”
Ron’s agreeable smile made him look like a kind old man, but the former bandit leader could see the cold glint in his eyes.
House Molran had been one of the top five assassination and espionage families in the land before they were wiped out by Arm. Now, thanks to Cale, Ron Molran—the last head of the Molran family—had returned to the Eastern Continent.
When Ron’s merciless gaze shifted toward Cale, Cale furtively turned his head away.
‹Human, Grandpa Ron’s gaze is vicious!›
Cale’s shoulders trembled at Raon’s comment. Of course he was rattled; he had neglected to inform Ron in advance that he would be taking control of the Eastern Continent’s underworld. He’d only asked the butler to accompany him, citing Ron’s familiarity with the area.
“Young master.” Ron’s voice lacked its usual refinement.
At the edge in the old man’s voice, Cale blurted out, “You’re the only one I can trust to handle this.” It was the truth. Unlike the terrible actor Choi Han, the innocent Mary, and the oddly talkative Vice-Captain Hilsmann, Ron was suited to be the ruler of the underworld.
Still, Cale didn’t dare look Ron in the eye. He was too scared. No matter how strong Cale became, this old man remained even more intimidating than Choi Han. Between an opponent who charged at you head-on and one who crept up behind your back and sliced your head off, the latter was always going to be more unnerving. Ron Molran was an expert at ending lives without a sound.
Cale kept his mouth shut and tried to avoid Ron’s stare, which bored into him. The old manservant gave off such a menacing aura that the former bandit leader glanced between the pair without saying a word. Vicross kept to the corner, cleaning the dust off of his greatsword and playing at apathy, but his father had his full attention.
At last, Ron broke the silence. “When a man runs away after losing everything, his edge dulls with age.”
Ron was talking about himself. After losing House Molran and the rest of his family, he’d fled west with Vicross. His original ferocity was gone; now he was just an elderly man. It was too late for him to grow like Choi Han or Mary. If Cale was asking him to take control of the Eastern Continent’s underworld, Ron needed to make his young master understand the harsh truth.
“Don’t lie,” his young master retorted, sounding flabbergasted. “That’s absurd.”
Ron was taken aback.
Cale still couldn’t look at Ron, but extreme incredulity had him reeling. Weak? Dull? Old? If Ron of all people was considered weak, every other assassin in the world may as well hang up their daggers. Why was he acting so modest, like a shadow of his usual self? Cale showed his true emotions, making no attempt to hide the disbelief on his face.
Ron didn’t know what to say. “Don’t lie”?
As Ron regarded his young master, who was too tall to be called a pup these days, he heard him grumble, “All you do during your free time is sharpen your dagger. Who’s weak? Do you have any idea how scary you look when you do that? Sheesh.”
The smile on Ron’s lips vanished in a blink. He peered down at his hands. What Cale had said was true; he did indeed maintain his dagger every day. There was no deep meaning to it, though. They were in the midst of an ongoing war, and he didn’t know when enemies might appear. He had to keep his weapon close at all times.
But then a thought occurred to him: Is that really the only reason?
He saw Vicross polishing his greatsword. His son met his gaze head-on, not looking away. Then a faint smile appeared on Vicross’s ever-stoic face—a smile that seemed to say, He caught you, Father.
Indeed, he had been caught.
Slowly, Ron’s lips curled upward as well. It was a cold smile, far removed from his usual serene expression.
As he watched Choi Han, Mary, and Hilsmann fight their own battles, his limbs had been itching to move. While his feelings weren’t quite the same as Hana’s bloodlust, his entire body boiled with passion. He knew an old man like himself had a much lower chance of growing stronger than these young punks, but he still couldn’t set aside his dagger. Every morning, before he went to wake Cale, he trained with his fake arm.
What was the true reason for all that?
“Old, my ass. You’ve still got decades ahead of you,” Cale groused.
Watching his little young master gripe, Ron felt his expression regain its usual innocuous air. “You’re right, young master.”
Cale slowly looked at Ron—and when their eyes met, his heart gave a heavy thump.
“I’m too greedy to become a boring old coot just yet,” Ron said.
How can an old man’s gaze be so bloodthirsty? Cale gulped and put his hand over his shrinking heart.
Paying Cale no mind, Ron addressed the bandit leader. “Repay debts by a hundredfold, but retaliate with death.”
Ron believed every person had a candle within themselves. As one grew older, the candle gradually waned until its light winked out, leaving them to live the rest of their days in a cold world filled with darkness.
Now he realized he’d been wrong. What had all but snuffed out his candle wasn’t the shrinking of the wick but the wind he’d allowed to enter. He’d chosen to ignore the tiny spark that continued to burn.
In this moment, Ron fanned that dying flicker into a healthy flame. Doing so gave him a clear sense of the candle within, which had a long, firm wick that could keep on burning for years to come.
He expressed his gratitude to the man who helped him find that spark. “Thank you very much, young master.”
Cale, on the other hand, was adrift in a sea of confusion. Why’d he say “retaliate with death” and then thank me?
His inability to grasp the situation had him floundering, but he relaxed when he saw Ron’s face return to its usual kindly state. Cale’s fear-stricken heart started beating normally again.
Just as he was enjoying his relief, someone spoke up.
“But, boss…” the former bandit leader began, watching Cale with cautious eyes. When Cale graced him with an inquisitive glance, he continued, “Won’t we need a lot of money to control the underworld? Sure, in terms of strength, these outstanding folks around you should have it covered, but I dunno about the coin…”
Cale turned pensive. I guess he’s different from Tunka after all. Tunka had no brain cells to spare for thoughts of money, or frankly anything other than destruction. In that aspect, this former bandit leader was surprisingly sly and intelligent. It was probably those very traits that had allowed him to escape the bonds of slavery and become the leader of this band. And Cale liked people who knew how to use their heads.
As the bandit leader said, money would be more valuable than strength in the early stages of dominating the underworld. The dirtier the ladder, the more money and power were needed to climb the rungs.
“We’ll use your money for that,” Cale said easily.
“My money?”
“Yes, yours. Don’t you have a bunch saved up from all the misdeeds you’ve committed?” Cale planned to milk these bandits for everything they had.
“…I don’t have any.”
“What?”
When Cale questioned him, the former bandit leader awkwardly scratched his head. “We live as if each day is our last. We only have enough coin to party for about a week. Ha ha ha ha ha!”
The louder he laughed, the colder the atmosphere—though his back was quickly drenched in sweat. When Cale sighed and dragged his hands over his face, the bandit leader gulped. It struck him that he might be in serious danger.
That is, until Cale’s relaxed voice broke the tension. “I’ll give it to you, then.”
“Sorry?”
The bandit leader watched as Cale took a hefty pouch from his pocket and threw it onto the table. It opened as it landed,and all kinds of jewels clattered across the tabletop.
“Damn. Wow. This is…” The bandit leader couldn’t find the words. He had robbed quite a few merchant guilds in his time, but he’d never seen so many jewels before, let alone anyone who would toss them around haphazardly like they were worthless pebbles. His gaze shifted toward Cale, the owner of said jewels.
Before coming to the Eastern Continent, Cale had converted a portion of his earnings from the auction house into jewels to bring along. Noticing the bandit’s eyes on him, he added nonchalantly, “I can bring you hundreds of pouches like this. You won’t need to worry about money.”
From now on, this bandit leader wouldn’t be permitted to spend even ten galleons without permission.
In the bandit’s eyes, it seemed as if a bright halo surrounded Cale. At the same time, he felt a spike of fear. Who exactly was this man who commanded real powerhouses as his subordinates and carried mind-boggling wealth as if it were spare change?
Cale rose from his seat. The former bandit leader, who had been kneeling, sprang to his feet as well.
“We’ll start at a nearby city,” Cale declared. “Got it?”
“Yes, sir!”
When the bandit leader responded in the affirmative, Cale walked past him and murmured, “Good. We’ll start your mental makeover now.”
“Sorry, sir?”
“We need to scrub out and beautify the rotten mind that made you do those terrible things.”
Ignoring the bandit leader’s puzzled stare, Cale watched Ron gather the jewels. Then he glanced at Vicross, who put on a pair of white gloves as he stood. The tense atmosphere stoked the former bandit leader’s curiosity.
“But…don’t I need to get even nastier if I’m gonna rule the underworld? Shouldn’t I actually double down on the rot?” Why did he need a mental makeover?
Cale responded without missing a beat. “What I say goes.”
The bandit leader was rendered speechless.
“Also, anyone who keeps up their banditry will be beaten to a pulp. If anybody steals someone else’s things or hurts another person, they’re a goner.”
The bandit leader had a laundry list of things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak up. He thought Cale wanted him to take control of the continent’s dark underbelly—if he did as Cale demanded, wouldn’t he end up turning into a good person instead? And yet, the ice in Cale’s eyes kept his mouth frozen shut.
As Cale walked out the door, he imparted one last ultimatum. “As for that sculpture of yours—go through with it and you’re dead.”
He left the house with that threat hanging in the air, sparing no attention for the former leader’s despairing face. The other bandits shuffled away with bowed heads as soon as they met his eyes.
‹This doesn’t make sense, weak human!› Raon piped up. ‹Why’d you give him all that for free? I’m sure Grandpa Ron will use the valuable jewels responsibly, but you’re still spending too much!›
The kid seemed flummoxed by his behavior. Unconcerned, Cale replied, “We’ll earn it all back. Think of it as an investment of sorts.”
‹What does that mean?›
Cale turned his gaze in the direction of the closest city to Mount Liv. It was the place where the bandits went to unload their stolen goods, which meant that the underworld had a strong presence there. In order to kickstart his comprehensive takeover of the Eastern Continent’s criminal empire, he needed to appropriate a few of the syndicates running that city’s black market. Once he achieved that, their wealth would fall into his hands.
He grinned. “I’m going to bleed the bad guys’ coffers dry.”
In truth, he only intended to ransack Arm and other irredeemable miscreants. It took a true villain to steal from criminals—and since nobody around here knew who he was, he’d take everything he could get.
It’s time for me to live like a proper degenerate.
‹So, you’re saying we’re gonna take all the bad guys’ money?›
“That’s right.”
Cale could almost hear Raon’s invisible wings fluttering. ‹This “investment” thing is the best!›
Erhaven was on his way back from examining the stone pillar when he encountered the sight of Cale and Raon silently snickering together. Cale’s expression especially gave him an uneasy feeling. “Why is the unlucky human laughing like that?”
Ohn and Hong, who had accompanied the gold dragon, voiced their own opinions.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but it looks like we’re gonna have some fun!” Hong exclaimed gleefully.
“Chances are it won’t be fun at all,” Ohn murmured. No one, not even Erhaven, heard the silver cat’s sigh.
Cale turned to the former bandit leader, who had stepped outside to receive his mental makeover. “What’s the name of the closest city?”
“Liv-An, sir.”
“What’s it known for?”
“It’s a free city, so it’s a hub for adventurers and mercenaries.”
Cale’s smile made the bandit leader flinch. A free city? That meant it was controlled by an oligarchy rather than falling under the dominion of nobles. And considering its many mercenaries, Liv-An’s other point of interest was obvious.
“The underworld must be renowned as well, then?”
At Cale’s question, the bandit leader donned a sly smirk. “It’s quite infamous in the northwest.”
“Great, then there should be a ton of people I can rip off.”
With that, Cale determined the starting point to establish his base in the Eastern Continent.
***
A few days later, Erhaven let out a deep sigh. “Goodness… Now I understand why your luck is so horrendous. You constantly put yourself in terrible situations.”
No one had an ear to spare for the ancient dragon’s ramblings; everyone was occupied with their individual tasks. The group was currently exploring a deserted inn that the bandit leader had acquired in Liv-An on Cale’s behalf. The three-story building was so shabby, it was as if a stiff breeze could knock it over.
“Meeeow.”
“Meow!”
The two cats bounded up the old wooden staircase to the second floor, the aged wooden steps creaking and shuddering under their paws.
‹I’ll go with them, human!› Raon declared from above Ohn and Hong.
Vicross dragged a gloved finger across the tabletop and brought back a smear of dust. Grimacing, he sighed heavily.
Unlike Vicross, Cale was satisfied with the place. He turned to Ron and the former bandit leader. “Not bad.”
“Indeed, young master,” Ron agreed, with an approving glance at their bandit guide.
The former boss winked one now-black eye and said, “I may not look it, but I know everything there is to know about Liv-An.”
As the closest city to the mountain, Liv-An was had always been the bandit leader’s preferred site to sell off his purloined goods. It was a free city with a substantial underworld, as well as a frequent pit stop for many mercenaries and adventurers.
Creak, creak. Cale peered down at the steps, which trembled every time someone stepped on them. “This place is falling apart.” Despite his words, he wore a pleased look on his face as he surveyed their surroundings. “The basement,” Cale ordered the bandit leader.
“Yes, sir!” The bandit leader made a beeline for the inn’s counter, then moved a table to reveal a hidden door. Creeeeak. With a rigidity born from years of disuse, the door to the basement swung open.
“There used to be an illegal casino here. The owner was a friend of mine,” the bandit leader explained, plastering a subservient smile onto his face.
“What happened to him?”
“He packed up his riches and fled to another city.”
“That’s why the inn was abandoned?”
“Yes, sir. It’s been deserted for around five years.”
With a small squeak, the basement door reached the limits of its hinges. Cale could make out stairs amid the darkness.
“It’s just a cozy little three-story inn on the outside, but there’s enough space in the basement to fit at least three hundred people.”
Cale met the bandit’s expectant look with a smile. “You’re pretty clever.”
“Heh heh, thank you.” Scratching his head bashfully, the bandit leader went on, “This would be the perfect place to use as a secret base for getting up to no good.”
“Smart punk.”
“Aw shucks, heh heh.”
Cale left the simpering bandit behind and pushed open the inn’s main door. A torrent of sounds rushed over him as soon as he stepped outside. He could hear countless voices overlapping on the streets.
“Where are you off to today?”
“Someone was looking for a hand with catching a wild boar that’s ruining their field. That’s where I’m headed.”
“Somebody supposedly found an ancient site over on the mountain. Seems it’s got a lot of history behind it.”
“Oh, then I should head over there too!”
“Cheap traveler’s robes for sale! We have other equipment as well!”
“We’re the Inn of Flowing Dreams! We’re offering a grand opening discount for all patrons! Extended-stay guests welcome!”
Cale grinned as he stood in front of his own rickety inn. Mercenaries and adventurers from all walks of life were busy starting their days, as were the residents of Liv-An. He spotted a few street artists getting to work too.
“What a vivacious place.”
The bandit leader had found a great spot. This area appeared to be a crossroads for all the honest and lawful parts of the city. Cale couldn’t be happier.
Far in the distance, he could see one section of Liv-An that remained dark and quiet: the red-light district, which acted as the hotbed of the city’s criminal network. That side of Liv-An would bloom during the nighttime hours.
Turning back around, Cale looked at the new plaque he’d placed over the entrance: HOPE AND ADVENTURE LOVING INN.
Cale had come up with the name himself. Starting today, this old three-story inn would become a place where adventurers and travelers could come to find hope and love.
The basement, of course, would brim with hopes and dreams of duping evildoers—and the heart-pounding adventure of raiding said evildoers’ bases and making them kneel would all begin from there.
It was a wonderful name indeed.
“I have a knack for naming things.” Cale gazed at the old building with warmth in his eyes. It was an excellent beginning.
With the two cats in his arms, Cale immediately set off to capitalize on his momentum. As he emerged from the inn’s small front yard, one of the neighborhood grannies directed a curious look at Cale and the dilapidated building behind him. “Did you buy this inn?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cale said with a smile.
The old woman regarded this handsome young redhead with equal parts warmth and worry. “This is a good location, but it’s very old. Oh, and it doesn’t seem like you’ve heard the story about this place. The owner used to run a gambling ring until he took the money and ran.”
“I did hear that.” Cale paused a moment, then said cheerfully, “But I believe that as long as I work hard, everything will turn out all right in the end! I have lots of people helping me out. We’re planning to work like we’ve been given a new start in life, so please look forward to it.”
“You’re quite the smooth talker, my dear.” The old woman smiled and bobbed her head at the young man’s positivity. “Sure. We neighbors should look after each other. My husband runs the bakery in the next alley—drop by if you need bread.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you very much.”
With a last nod for the young man and his two kittens, the old woman headed toward the alley where her bakery was. Looks like a nice youngster moved in, she thought. It was good news for her.
Once the old woman disappeared from sight, Cale lifted his head. As he did, the inn’s door cracked open, and someone said, “Our Hope and Adventure Loving Inn’s goal is to provide all travelers with warm meals and relaxing rooms at an affordable price. Got it?”
“Understood!”
“Yes, sir!”
The responses brimmed with energy.
“Our hope is to rip off the bad guys, while our adventures will consist of stabbing them in the back. Understood?”
“We’ll carve it into our bones!”
“Y-yes, sir! Whatever you say, sir!”
Cale’s brow furrowed. The bandit leader, who was just exiting the building, shuddered fiercely.
“Tell everyone to work quietly. Rumors spread like wildfire, you hear me?”
“O-of course, sir!”
“Hey, put your back into cleaning that window!”
“Make sure there isn’t a single speck of dust! One speck means one white glove!”
The bandits’ energetic voices gradually faded away as the bandit leader rushed outside and closed the door behind him, blocking out the commotion.
Before the party came to Liv-An, the formerly Indomitable Bandits had suffered three days and nights of torment. Cale then selected five members of the band who looked useful and brought them with him to the city. Ironically, these were the same five who had been on their way to the stone pillar that fateful morning, intending to transform it into a sculpture.
Now unstintingly loyal to Vicross and Cale, they were willing to work their butts off to fulfill their new leaders’ commands. The bandits had become the first five staff members of the Hope and Adventure Loving Inn, beginning new lives as responsible and law-abiding members of the workforce.
Leaving his employees to their duties, Cale proceeded with his own agenda.
***
Some time later, Cale gazed down from the top of a building. From this vantage point, he could see the entire city of Liv-An.
“So the two most influential groups in Liv-An are the mercenary corps and the merchant guild?” he asked.
“That’s what they say, sir!” the bandit leader replied in a boisterous tone. “Suffice it to say that Liv-An is controlled by the mercenary corps and the merchant guild during the day, then the underworld at night.”
While being as forthcoming as possible, the bandit leader snuck a peek around. He didn’t understand why they were having this chat on a rooftop, but he held his tongue and watched as Cale munched on some snacks. Accompanying them were the two cats, the old man—who’d ended up being the scariest member of the bunch—and the man with golden hair whom Cale treated with respect.
Electing not to think about any of it, the bandit leader focused on spilling everything he knew. “Given Liv-An’s history, it makes sense that the mercenaries and merchants have a lot of power in this city.”
“Liv-An’s history?” Cale echoed, his gaze compelling the man to explain.
Clearing his throat, the bandit leader went on, “Yes, sir. The story goes that this place was overrun by monsters in the past. Dangerous creatures roamed all over Liv-An and the surrounding region, including Mount Liv.”
Monsters. That explained why the stone pillar had been placed there. Cale’s eyes shifted toward Erhaven, finding the gold dragon listening intently to the bandit leader.
“That’s why no kingdoms or nobility were able to extend their reach into this area,” the bandit continued.
“So the mercenaries gathered here instead,” Cale mused.
The bandit leader nodded. “Right. When the merchants noticed that the mercenaries were here, they were quick to follow. Then came the adventurers. Soon enough, this free city had been established, and there were fewer and fewer monsters after that.”
“Their numbers were dwindling?”
“Yes, sir. So, a few kingdoms tried to step in and take control of Liv-An, but the mercenaries and the merchants had already gained a lot of leverage by then. Plus, even though there weren’t as many monsters, there were still enough of them around to scare people away. In the end, this city stayed free.”
The monster population had decreased. Cale glanced at Ron.
“I knew Liv-An was a free city,” the old man said, “but I wasn’t aware of how it developed.” Ron was originally from the eastern side of the continent; it was unlikely that he’d know the details about a small free city in the northwest.
‹Human, human! Why do you think the monsters disappeared? I’m curious!›
As am I. Cale was just as eager to know what had happened. The monsters’ presence in Liv-An had been overwhelming enough to force the stone guardian’s hand, leading the ancient to craft the pillar as a defensive measure. Erhaven seemed to be thinking the same.
Something else dawned on Cale then. Even with the orgs pulling the strings behind the scenes, there had to be an institution officially managing the free city. “What about the mayor?”
“Oh, the position of mayor is passed between the merchant guild and the mercenary corps.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. As you’d imagine, people who aren’t part of either group have a lot of complaints, but what can they do about it? Those underworld bastards are already in cahoots with the merchants and mercs. The average citizen can’t hope to beat them.”
“Really? Ordinary civilians don’t get any say?”
The reasonably quick-witted bandit leader stopped talking—he’d noticed the smile on Cale’s face. Shivering, he blurted out, “The mayor has never been chosen from among the regular folks! After all, a shrimp can’t win in a battle between whales!”
“True. A regular shrimp can’t win.” Cale met the bandit leader’s eyes. “But there might be a shrimp out there who could end up stealing it all… Right, Ron?”
“…I don’t wish to be a shrimp, young master.”
“Hmm. Vicross is a great cook.”
Ron’s young pup of a master smiled and looked elsewhere, no doubt hatching another plan. Everybody on the rooftop was a bit concerned. Whenever Cale took action, he tended to do things on a grand scale.
Cale, of course, was unaware of their thoughts. Various ideas flashed through his mind. “So the mercenaries and merchants have underworld connections?” he asked the bandit leader.
“That’s partly why Liv-An is known as a city of pleasure and lawlessness. They work together pretty often.”
“Then who rules the underworld?”
“Well, there’s two factions that stand head and shoulders above the rest.” The bandit leader took a map out of his pocket and handed it to Cale, who unfolded it right away. It depicted the east side of Liv-An, which was divided into sections. “One has been running the show in Liv-An ever since the city was founded. Their leader is someone named Mostue. They’re pretty tight with the mercenary corps.”
“And the other is Arm?”
“You got it, sir. They’re the other faction. They don’t get along with the mercenaries.”
“What about the merchant guild?”
“They stay neutral. You know how it is.”
Cale scanned the map of Liv-An’s underworld. Although the area was divided, many individual sectors were marked with circles. “What do these circles stand for?”
“Smaller groups that’re still around.”
“Oh, really?” Another sinister smirk appeared on Cale’s face.
Wincing, the bandit leader added, “Er, the old man who buys my loot runs his own independent district. He’s the one who gave me this map a while back.”
“How long are we talking?”
“About six months ago. I hear Arm’s got a bit more influence these days.”
Cale tapped the map with his finger. “Controlling the underworld requires a solid foundation. Isn’t that right, not-so-Indomitable Ruler?”
“Correct, sir.”
“Hypothetically speaking…” Cale’s gaze drifted toward Ron. “What would happen to Liv-An if Arm took control of the underworld?”
“All the other factions would become their underlings. So would the merchant guild and the mercenary corps.”
Eyes lingering on the map, Cale sank into thought. A smattering of words fell from his lips. “The mayor… Mercenaries… Merchants… Mostue… The independent districts… The mayor…”
Erhaven shook his head upon hearing Cale mention the mayor for the second time. The unlucky human was stirring up trouble again—only this time it wasn’t his own life he’d be throwing into turmoil but someone else’s.
As Erhaven glanced between the pale bandit leader and the wary Ron, Cale asked, “How often does the mayor’s office change hands?”
“Well…”
“Yes?”
Cale’s eagerness gave the bandit leader pause, but at length, he replied, “Funny you should ask. There’s only about three months left in the term. Ha ha ha ha!”
Cale exhaled sharply, his eyes sparkling. “Oho.” The bandit leader averted his gaze, cursing his own bungling wits, but Cale paid him no mind; he was rapidly weaving plots in his head.
If I really want to trap Arm, the starting point is critical. It’s not enough to attack them on the Western Continent—I need to shake them at their roots here too.
That was the reason Cale had come to this land. He had a lot to gain in a free city like Liv-An, where a person’s identity didn’t matter.
Cale’s fingers rapped harder on the map. The bandit leader watched cautiously until Cale’s eyes flicked to his.
“Go,” Cale said.
“Sorry?”
“Do what you have to do.”
“Oh! Uh, yes, sir!”
The crisply dressed bandit leader bowed at a perfect right angle before scurrying down from the roof. Despite his hulking physique, he was quite agile.
Once he had disappeared, Cale began, “Lord Erhaven—”
“Looks like I’ll need to learn more about Liv-An’s history.”
Cale blinked at the gold dragon, who’d anticipated his request ahead of time. “How do you plan to do that? You’ll need to delve quite deep if you want to know the facts starting from the stone guardian’s time.”
It wasn’t easy to dig up ancient history from scratch. Doubly so when one wasn’t only seeking recorded history but the unadulterated truth.
“I just need to ask a dragon,” Erhaven said breezily.
Cale faltered. “Excuse me?” A dragon?
“Goldie!” Raon interjected, revealing himself in midair. “There are other dragons?”
“Why are you asking such an obvious question? There are ten dragons on the Eastern Continent, youngster.”
“Wow! I wanna meet this other dragon too!”
“No.” Erhaven’s refusal was uncharacteristically stern. “That bastard’s not right in the head.”
If he’s crazy even by dragon standards… Cale kept that thought to himself.
“Then how do you know him, Goldie? You have a good personality!”
The corners of Erhaven’s lips twitched at Raon’s question, but the gold dragon suppressed his smile and cleared his throat. “Ahem… It’s because I’m so agreeable.” A crease formed in his forehead, as if he was thinking about the other dragon. “I protected him when he went through his first growth phase.”
“You protected him?” Cale asked.
“Goldie, why do you need to protect a dragon when they’re growing?”
Erhaven shot them a quizzical look. “Didn’t I tell you that I planned to have this youngster go through his first growth phase in my lair?”
Cale thought back to the time when Erhaven taught Raon magic and all manner of knowledge. “That you did.”
“It was so I could protect him. My lair is the safest place he could be. As you both already know, dragons go through a total of three growth phases.”
During the first phase, the dragon’s physical appearance didn’t change; only their inner vessel expanded, laying the foundation for future growth. The dragon’s body then grew significantly during the second and third phases, accompanied by a boost in strength.
“Each time brings its share of growing pains. Not all dragons are the same, as we have different classes of potential. Dragons who will go on to become the strongest of our kind suffer the most.”
This was news to Cale. The novel didn’t discuss the details of how a dragon matured; he’d only known that they underwent three growth phases. Nevertheless, it was almost obvious once he thought about it. It would be stranger if they didn’t have any adverse reaction to such sudden, explosive growth.
“I assumed you knew this, but I see I was mistaken,” Erhaven said.
“I had no idea. I may be great and mighty, but I didn’t know this! I learned it now, though, so it’s fine!”
“The youngster has gotten pretty eccentric.” Patting the black dragon’s round head, Erhaven continued, “Anyway, going through their first growth phase alone can be an excruciating experience for young dragons. You won’t need to worry about that, though.”
“I know! I’m not worried!”
Raon shrugged, but he still snuck furtive glances at the rest of the group. Erhaven caught him and chuckled softly. The little dragon had matured quite a bit, and he’d developed in the right direction. While he didn’t act like it, he was still growing up into a proper dragon.
When their eyes met, Raon said, “You better be there too, Goldie!”
The ancient dragon laughed again, finding the little one’s feigned ignorance of his dwindling lifespan endearing. He stroked Raon’s head a bit more firmly. “I’m very busy, youngster.”
He expected Raon to grumble like always—in fact, he was looking forward to the youngster’s usual reaction. Instead, Raon’s expression turned serious. “Human…!”
Sitting on the edge of the roof, Cale muttered, “Why are you calling for me so ominously?” When he looked over at Raon, his eyes narrowed. A communication device had appeared between Raon’s stubby talons.
Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep.
Cale’s face fell. It was an emergency call.
“It’s that guy who’s a little loopy, human!”
The responsible party was the unhinged Guardian Knight, Clope Seca. Cale never had any idea what that bastard was going to say.
Chapter 50: The Obvious
Chapter 50:
The Obvious
CALE RUSHED to a corner room on the third floor of the old inn. After posting Ron outside the door, he instructed Raon to connect the call immediately.
“Is that weirdo fighting today, human?”
“Why would he be?”
Contrary to Cale’s urgency, he looked loath to speak with Clope. He’d suffered a great deal during the battle in Karo after trusting Clope’s assessment of how weak the half-blood dragon was. Just thinking about it made him want to throw away his alliance with Faern and smash the kingdom instead.
Crackle, crackle. Cale watched as the floating projection winked to life, waiting for Clope with every intention of giving the lunatic a piece of his mind.
“My lord!”
The moment the call connected, Cale lost his train of thought. “First of all, stop clasping your hands.”
Clope Seca had appeared on-screen with his hands folded, as if in prayer—a prayer directed to Cale.
“I had a feeling this would make you uncomfortable, my lord,” Clope said. He lowered his hands and sat facing the screen with an unassuming expression. By contrast, Cale’s features arranged themselves into an inscrutable mask.
The punk looks lucid on the outside, but he’s a total looney.
“I called because—”
“Hold on,” Cale cut in. “I’ve been wondering about this, but why do you keep calling me ‘my lord’? Your rank is higher than mine. People will think it’s weird, so just call me Lord Cale like everybody else does.”
It was one thing for Choi Han to address Cale with respect, since he’d done so from the beginning, but Clope Seca was another matter altogether—especially taking their future cooperation into consideration. Cale assumed Clope would grasp his meaning.
“I cannot do that. You aren’t merely a lordling or a commander, my lord. You’re the one who will illuminate this continent, a true g—”
“Stop.” Cale nipped Clope’s ranting in the bud, not wanting to hear the g-word. Holding back a sigh, he changed the subject. “You’re only reaching out now? Why have you been quiet all this time?”
Though Cale’s voice was level, Clope saw the cold edge in his gaze. After the Whale Tribe struck Faern’s northern patrol stations on Cale’s orders, he had given the kingdom one week to consider his terms. It had been way longer than a week, but Faern hadn’t contacted him until this moment. Why had it taken them so long to respond?
Noting that Cale was still calm, betraying no signs of anger or unease, the Guardian Knight smiled. “I couldn’t come empty-handed.”
Cale felt his own lips quirk up in return; this punk was smart. “True enough. You can’t strike a bargain without something to offer.”
The outcome of the clash in Karo had convinced Faern that they couldn’t rely on the Indomitable Alliance for survival. Rowoon was offering them an alternative path.
Creak.
Cale leaned back in his well-worn chair and gestured with his chin for Clope to show him what Faern had brought after all this time. “I’ll decide after I see what you have to offer.” He and Rowoon had the upper hand. They could make up their minds once all the cards were on the table.
Clope had to stifle a grin. I knew it. I was right. This was another step on the path to forging a legend.
When Clope had heard about the events in Karo, goosebumps broke out all over his body. The story of the dark elves’ sudden appearance and Cale’s shield deflecting the arrows of light was electrifying. Clope knew his accidental misinformation must have led Cale to underestimate Arm’s mage, but even then, Cale had managed to defeat an unexpectedly formidable foe. That was exactly what a hero—no, a legend—was capable of.
Cale was the white snake’s path to survival. He had done everything in his power to prepare this offering.
“Right now, the Indomitable Alliance is holding on by the skin of their teeth.” That much was obvious; they had suffered devastating losses in both of the major battles thus far. “But they cannot simply retreat. Somehow, Arm has become the central figure of the alliance, and they are pushing for one last stand.”
Cale had already discerned where this battle would take place. Two people rose to his mind: Rosalyn, who had thrown away her birthright as a princess to focus on magecraft, and Lark, who would walk the path of the Wolf King. Both were currently in Brek—and Brek was home to Death Canyon.
“The final battle will be at Death Canyon,” Cale declared.
Clope’s could no longer hold back his smile. Cale wore the wizened look of someone who already had all the answers. “As expected, your foresight is amazing. It’s only befitting of someone who will become a lege—”
“Clope.” Cale was quick to head off the crazy bastard’s nonsense.
With Clope’s eyes on him, Cale took a moment to observe the white-haired Guardian Knight in turn. At present, only Rowoon and a handful of people from Faern were privy to Clope’s whereabouts. The rest believed that he was either missing or had been killed in action in Henituse territory.
That meant there were plenty of ways to put him to use.
Cale chose his next words carefully. “With the Indomitable Alliance so vulnerable, what would you—no, let me rephrase. The three kingdoms in the north will be left in a dismal state after they lose at Death Canyon. Faern, Askosan, and Norland will all be weak. Won’t that weakness make the north easy prey for another power?”
Cale’s side would emerge victorious from the clash at Death Canyon; he had no doubts about that. The winning side could savor their victory…but what about the losers? After the fog of war lifted, the northern kingdoms would be reduced to a shadow of their former strength.
What could be easier than swallowing up an enemy that could no longer defend itself?
Perhaps he was wrong, but why else would Arm expend so many resources to pressure the Indomitable Alliance into preparing for a final standoff? Maybe after Arm realized that they wouldn’t be able to use the alliance to seize any of the southern kingdoms, they had redirected their ambitions to conquering the north instead. The Lion Tribe, the Bear Tribe, and the Flame Dwarves all probably desired territories of their own. And if that was the case, would they target the well-defended south or the up-for-grabs north?
The answer was obvious.
“Clope Seca,” Cale said, “the enemy is within your ranks.”
Cale was giving Clope—and by extension, Faern—a warning.
Out of nowhere, Clope started cackling like a maniac. “Hee hee hee, my lord, you really are… Hee hee hee!”
What the hell is wrong with him? Cale’s eyes wavered. He’d only told Clope to be wary of Arm, but it seemed the man was losing even more of his marbles. Cale tried to subtly inch farther away from the screen.
The six-year-old dragon had the same reaction. ‹I’m pretty sure this guy is more than just a little crazy, human.›
Clope’s deranged laughter ceased as abruptly as it began, and he reverted to his usual attitude. “We are prepared, my lord.”
Prepared? Cale was still dubious, but Clope’s next words took him aback.
“We’ve established an invasion route all the way to the palaces of Askosan and Norland.”
What? Cale paused and stared at Clope. The Guardian Knight appeared outwardly calm, but his eyes were aglow.
“We plotted out the shortest course to attack both Askosan and Norland, with Faern as the starting point. Also, we installed a large-scale teleportation circle in the grounds where our knights train. That’s why we were a bit late.”
There was something Cale had overlooked: Clope Seca was the same lunatic who had dragged the entire continent into the chaos of war just to serve his own legendary ambitions. He was a man who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.
In other words, he’d been crazy from the very start.
“I plan to offer that route to Rowoon—no, I offer it to you, my lord.”
Clope’s mouth slowly curled into a broad grin. He knew all too well that the true symbol of House Seca was a white snake; his own nature served as a testament to that. Yet he’d come to understand with painful clarity that he was also a true citizen of Faern. After all, it was the royal family and other leaders of Faern who had transformed this den of white snakes into the celebrated Guardian Knight bloodline. That slyness was a national trait.
“You mentioned that Arm might target the northern kingdoms,” Clope went on, beaming with pride. “This plot Arm may or may not carry out—that’s our specialty here in Faern, my lord.”
Faern knew all about being the snake in the grass of a larger alliance, waiting for a chance to strike. It was a role they could play with confidence.
“Before Arm reveals their hand, we—no, you and Rowoon, my lord—just need to make the first move.”
Faern had found a way to ensure their survival, and this was their bargaining chip.
“You really are a crazy bastard,” Cale said candidly.
The man on the other side of the screen burst into laughter. “Ha ha ha! I have to stay on my toes if I want to keep up with a legend.”
“Put your father on the line,” Cale snapped. It didn’t seem like Clope would stop laughing anytime soon, and Cale needed to talk to someone sane right now. He decided to chat with Rok Seca instead.
***
The call ended soon after. When it was over, Cale dragged both hands down his face.
‹Hey, weak human! Is Rowoon gonna take over the entire north?›
Cale scoffed. “Do you really think that’s possible?” Despite his quick dismissal, a chill ran down his spine.
‹According to that white-haired father and son, even if we might not be able to take over their land, couldn’t Rowoon at least threaten the three northern kingdoms?›
Cale couldn’t bring himself to answer Raon this time. He turned and opened the door, an uncanny feeling churning in his gut.
Ron, standing guard just outside, looked at Cale expectantly.
“I’ll be returning to the Western Continent for a bit,” Cale said. “I’ll be back in a month. You know what to do, right?”
Ron understood perfectly. “I’ll draft a plan to devour Liv-An’s underworld,” he replied, his tone mild. “One month should be the perfect amount of time to prepare for the inn’s grand opening too.”
The old manservant was reliable as always. Cale’s gaze slid to the gold dragon standing next to Ron.
“While you’re away, I’ll search for another dragon,” Erhaven said. “We need to learn about Liv-An’s past, after all.” The ancient dragon had accepted the task of uncovering the secrets behind the city’s history.
“Thank you very much.”
After giving Erhaven an appreciative nod, Cale and the three children used the teleportation circle to return to the stone guardian’s villa.
***
Cale completed his preparations at the villa and moved on to his next destination, now dressed in a clean black military uniform. When the teleportation process finished, he opened his eyes and greeted the person standing in front of him. “Your Highness.”
He had stealthily entered the palace via a secret teleportation circle inside the building.
As soon as he saw Albert’s face, he spouted platitudes on autopilot. “As always, your dazzling radiance evokes the rising sun—” Cale stopped mid-sentence. Returning at once to his usual manner, he went on, “I know this is impolite, Your Highness, but why do you look so terrible? Did something happen?”
Albert Crossman was in a wretched state. It seemed that shuffling between various bothersome incidents had left him well past the point of exhaustion. Something about his courteous posture as he greeted Cale hinted at desperation too.
Cale felt a familiar sense of dread. Is there something else he wants me to do?
“Cale Henituse.”
For the first time in a while, Albert set aside Cale’s “commander” title and called him by name. There was no strength in his voice.
Just as Cale considered teleporting home right then and there, Albert spoke in gravest tone Cale had ever heard him use. “You truly do surround yourself with headache-inducing oddballs.”
“I beg your pardon?”Cale replied. What “headache-inducing oddballs”? “Oh.”
It clicked for him then. Albert was referring to the people who had stayed in the capital while Cale went to the Eastern Continent: Choi Han, Mary, and Hilsmann. I’m sure His Highness had a hard time wrangling that terrible actor and that innocent soul. For someone like Albert, who struggled even with Valentino, Choi Han and Mary must have proven quite the challenge.
“Choi Han and Mary are indeed difficult to work with,” Cale said with a nod. He understood all too well. One was too righteous and couldn’t go with the flow, while the other was too naive and softhearted.
Albert huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Your definition of ‘difficult’ surprises me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Never mind. It’s nothing.” Shaking his head, Albert turned around and started walking. Cale trailed after him, bewildered.
‹I knew Choi Han’s smile was off,› Raon said.
What is he talking about? Cale watched from behind as they exited the secret chamber.
“You must be well loved,” Albert said then.
“…Are you sure you’re not sick, Your Highness?”
“I imagine you’ve had it quite rough.”
What in the world was going on? Albert’s words made no sense to Cale, but he could only continue to follow the crown prince.
Click. Albert opened the door leading back up to ground level, and they emerged into a room. It was Albert Crossman’s new office, the same one he would use when he became king. The space was jam-packed with paperwork.
As Cale recoiled from the documents in disgust, he heard someone else cry out, “Lord Cale!”
He spun to see an entire wall filled with a projection from a communication device. The woman in the live feed had beautiful red hair reminiscent of the midday sun—a different shade than Cale’s.
“Long time no see!” Rosalyn greeted Cale with a smile, which he reciprocated.
“Lovely to see you, Miss Rosalyn.”
“I hear the Indomitable Alliance will be paying us a visit in two days,” she said, clearly in high spirits. She was wearing a set of leather armor underneath her mage’s robe.
“That’s right.”
When she heard Cale’s short response, Rosalyn’s smile grew even wider. “We’ll get to see all of them, then? The Bear Tribe, the Lion Tribe, and the Flame Dwarves?”
“Of course.”
“And the Flame Dwarves invented devices to let them cross Death Canyon?”
“Correct.”
Rosalyn brought her fingers to her lips, tugging them back down into a suitably solemn line. A battle against the Indomitable Alliance… Though she didn’t wish for war, a part of her had been longing for this moment.
While her friends were fighting on the front lines in Rowoon and Karo, Rosalyn had stayed in Brek. She never even called them. This was partially because she had faith that they would win, but there was another, more fundamental reason for her choice.
Royal blood flowed in Rosalyn’s veins. Although she had thrown away her princess’s crown, her ancestors’ blood still sang within her, stoking her into a rage. A ruler couldn’t forgive those who threatened their domain, and Rosalyn felt her royal blood boiling with the desire to vent her anger against the enemies coveting her land.
With Cale’s help, Rosalyn had been training to become stronger—strong enough to protect her kingdom, her family, and all of her precious friends who would fight on Brek’s behalf. Now that the chance she’d been waiting for was just around the corner, she couldn’t suppress a thrill of anticipation.
“Will the enemy get past Death Canyon?” she asked.
Cale grinned. “Not possible.” He spoke with conviction; the enemy forces would never breach Death Canyon. “I’ll see you soon.”
Rosalyn bade him a brief farewell and ended the call. Cale turned toward Albert, who motioned for him to speak.
“I suppose we’ll need to assemble everyone one more time, Your Highness.”
Winter had reached its end. With spring fast approaching, Cale commenced preparations for the final battle against the Indomitable Alliance.
***
The fight at Death Canyon would take place in two days. Until then, Cale had to burn the candle at both ends to get ready.
Or at least, he was supposed to.
He sighed, sweeping both hands over his face. “Choi Han, what are these numbers?”
Cale brandished a piece of paper in his hand. The fluttering sheet was covered in a fleet of figures. It seemed a section of the palace had been damaged, and this document contained a breakdown of the estimated costs for repairs.
Choi Han silently lowered his head.
Sighing again, Cale picked up another piece of paper, flapping this one in the air as well. This time, he was looking at Mary. “Why did three nobles suddenly fall ill?”
Mary’s innocent and mechanical voice responded, “I am not sure. They were curious about my powers, so I showed them a few things.”
A small gathering had followed the parade in the capital. With the war still underway, it had been a modest celebration, but to Mary the whole world seemed to sparkle. Everything about the experience was dazzling and new for the black-cloaked necromancer, and it left her overwhelmed. Eventually, Tasha had guided her out onto a terrace to take a rest.
It was then that a trio of nobles had come to join her. They spoke to her in an amicable manner, asking questions about her abilities. Thinking that they wanted to befriend her, Mary showed them a little sample of her skills.
“Then they suddenly told me I should abandon you and join them instead. They said that if I did, we could take you down and seize power for ourselves.”
“Pfft!” The sound of poorly stifled laughter prompted Cale to look over his shoulder. Albert had his head down on his desk, his shoulders shaking. He was obviously struggling to control himself.
Cale dryly quirked a corner of his lips. “And?”
With utmost seriousness, Mary said, “I asked them, ‘Are you my enemy?’ and they responded, ‘We could be friends or foes.’”
The nobles’ proposition had made her wary. In truth, the trio belonged to the central faction and were attempting to win Mary over to their side, but Mary interpreted their mention of “power” differently.
“Since they were talking about taking you down, I wondered if they might be from Arm or maybe the Indomitable Alliance. You told me not to fight, however, so I only bound them…but before I knew it, they had fainted.” Recalling how the three had collapsed to the floor in a powerless heap, Mary added, “They were strange people.”
She couldn’t understand how anyone so weak could boldly name themselves her potential enemy.
Cale let out his umpteenth sigh. He could still hear Albert’s choked laughter, but he ignored the crown prince, directing his attention toward Choi Han. The swordmaster’s situation was beyond cliché. “And you. One of the nobles’ sons threw a glove at you?”
As Choi Han bowed his head again, someone else responded in his stead. “Yes, sir!” It was Vice-Captain Hilsmann. “During the celebration, Lord Ailan’s heir suddenly questioned whether Choi Han was truly a swordmaster and challenged him to a duel by tossing a glove at him.”
Cale wasn’t the least bit surprised. Fantasy worlds had no shortage of spoiled young lords raring to challenge the protagonist or other experts, and House Ailan was famed as the strongest martial arts family in southeastern Rowoon, if not the entire kingdom.
“And?” he prompted. “Normally, Choi Han would’ve let something like that go in one ear and out the other.”
“Of course! We remembered your orders and ignored him. But then that noble’s son started trash-talking House Henituse.”
“…What did he say?”
“He said that for a martial arts household, House Henituse was pitifully weak—that all the Henituses have to their name are a pile of coin and strong underlings to hide behind.”
Well, they’re not wrong. Cale didn’t think it was an unfair assessment. Though Henituses might have trained in swordplay, there were no powerful fighters among their ranks. Lilly did show great potential, but for now, that was all it was. Plus, the young lord had said that they were rich and had reliable subordinates—wasn’t that actually a positive? His comment didn’t bug Cale at all.
Contrary to Cale’s expectations, Hilsmann still seemed upset by it. “That’s why Choi Han accepted the challenge!” the vice-captain huffed. “He wound up destroying the palace’s training grounds in the process. That lordling was a total pushover!”
“Bah ha ha ha!”
With Albert’s laughter serving as a background track, Hilsmann went on, “Lord Ailan stepped in and took the lordling with him. After apologizing to Choi Han, he said he’d issue a formal apology to House Henituse as well. A message should arrive at the estate soon!”
Cale closed his eyes and summed up his feelings in one word: “Shit.”
Albert cackled even louder.
‹See, human?› Raon’s voice in Cale’s mind added a new harmony to the soundtrack. ‹I’m a genius!›
Cale sprang up from his seat. Choi Han and Mary looked at him awkwardly, and even the crown prince managed to rein in his amusement.
“Where are you off to?” Albert asked.
“I’m going on a walk for some air,” Cale said flatly.
“Oh? Shall I join you?”
Cale’s expression soured. “I’m going up north. I’ll be back in half a day.”
“What?!”
Cale’s definition of “going on a walk” was a bit outside the norm.
“I need to go see the elves,” Cale explained.
Before he traveled to Brek, Cale needed to head north at Erhaven’s request. The ancient dragon was still in the Eastern Continent, investigating the stone pillar and the Liv-An region on Cale’s behalf. Yet Erhaven had business to attend to in the west, so Cale had agreed to do it in his stead. For that, he had to visit the lake in the north—probably still surrounded by snowstorms—and the elves and the World Tree beneath it.
“You said you’ll return in half a day?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” With Raon along, that would be plenty of time.
“Then we’ll finish the preparations while you’re away,” Albert declared.
Mary, Choi Han, and Hilsmann sobered up at Albert’s comment.
Sweeping his gaze across the group, Cale nodded. “Great.”
With that, he set out on his “walk” with a light heart.
***
“Here! We gathered some more!”
In the elf village beneath the Lake of Despair, the young elf priestess named Adite brought a pouch out of her sleeve and offered it to Cale. The refreshing clink-clink of jangling coins reached his ears.
Adite beamed at Cale, pleased to see him. “The World Tree hasn’t said anything, but I thought we might need another bag of money, so I took the liberty of fetching one. We can’t have a sea of fire!”
“Oh.”
It should be fine to take it, right? After all, elves aren’t materialistic. After a moment’s deliberation, Cale accepted the pouch. He wasn’t one to turn down free money.
“Thanks.” Plucking a small jewel from his pocket, he said, “Lead the way.”
“You got it! The World Tree’s been waiting for you!” The young priestess set off at an energetic pace, with Cale trailing after her.
Behind him, other elves kept up a stream of chatter.
“Oh! Great Raon, your cuteness is just as explosive as ever!”
“I can’t believe I’m meeting the Great Raon again in my lifetime! Now I can die with no regrets!”
“It’s the great and mighty Raon!”
Raon puffed out his chest, flapped his wings, and stuck out his front paw. “I’m busy right now! You can admire me later!”
He then hurried after Cale. Cale glanced at Raon and gave him a pat on the head along the walk to the World Tree. Erhaven’s request aside, he also had a question of his own.
Cale stepped into the grove, where the leaves of giant trees whispered in the wind. In their midst stood a tree that looked…completely ordinary. The World Tree was even more nondescript than Cale remembered.
“Hey, World Tree,” Raon said. “Have you been well?”
As if in response, one of the World Tree’s branches shuddered. During their previous visit, the World Tree had sacrificed three branches to share three truths with Cale. He recalled what the tree had told him: Find Raon’s family. Someone has gathered three Ancient Powers. Locate the Judging Water.
“You may speak to the World Tree like you did last time, Lord Cale,” Adite said.
After imparting its three truths to Cale, the World Tree had fallen into a light slumber. “Guess it’s up for chatting now.”
The young elf nodded, smiling a little. “Yes, short conversations.”
Cale padded toward the World Tree, placed his hand on the trunk, and closed his eyes.
‹Cale. Wonderful to see you again.› The World Tree sounded frail.
Offering the small jewel in his free hand, Cale said, “This is an item crafted by Lord Erhaven. It contains defensive magic that’ll protect the elf village, and you within it.”
After the theft of the World Tree’s branch from the elven village in the Ten Finger Mountains, Erhaven had decided to strengthen the defensive magic around the tree itself. He’d asked Cale to deliver this item for him.
“Raon will install it. It won’t take long.”
‹Is that so? Thank you. Pass on my gratitude to Erhaven also.›
Even over the course of this brief conversation, Cale detected a minute tremor in the World Tree’s voice. His face clouded.
Perhaps sensing this, the World Tree explained, ‹I’m still recuperating, but I’ve already recovered a good amount. I should return to full strength within the year.›
Cale was relieved to hear it. It was because of the tree’s current weakened state that Erhaven had chosen to reinforce it; once the World Tree fully recovered, there would be no reason to bolster its defenses.
‹You look like you have some questions. Is there something you wish to ask?›
Cale mulled it over. Eventually, he said, “You don’t need to answer if it means paying the same price as last time.”
Adite, who could only hear Cale’s side of the exchange, froze up on the spot. Her heart sank as she recalled the sight of the branches falling down. Raon was thinking of it too, his brow wrinkling.
‹Very well,› the World Tree said.
Conscious of Raon’s presence by his side, Cale kept his words deliberately vague, knowing the World Tree would understand. “Where do I need to go to find what you told me to look for? Not the Judging Water.” He was referring to the other thing he’d been instructed to search for: Raon’s family.
Cale bit his lip. He didn’t want to ask, but it was difficult to find any clues, especially in the middle of a war.
‹I suppose I can answer this one.› An exhale escaped Cale’s lips before he knew it. The tree’s voice steadied somewhat as it went on, ‹I’m sure this isn’t the answer you hoped for, but this is my current limit.›
Not the answer I hoped for?
‹A sovereign is a being acknowledged by nature.›
Cale’s brow furrowed. Why was the World Tree talking about royalty all of a sudden? Still, he had no choice but to pay careful attention to the tree’s words.
‹A soul that was marked for death yet lives.›
His hand twitched where it touched the bark. Though he’d asked about Raon’s family, he’d received a different response. He knew of one being that should have died in the first volume of Birth of a Hero: Raon Mir.
‹Nature has accepted that soul.› In other words, nature had embraced the life that was meant to end. ‹This being has twisted fate itself. Nature decided that feat alone was sufficient to reinstate the lost right to survive.›
Something patted Cale, and his eyes flew open. He looked down to find Raon’s round face. “Is everything okay, human?”
The World Tree’s faint voice reached Cale’s mind one last time. ‹Transformation, wonders beyond explanation, and miracles—such is the essence of nature.›
Nature operated on a cycle of mystery and change.
Wait a second. Cale contemplated the concept of a sovereign nature would approve of. The chubby dragon, who was barely 120 centimeters from tip to tail, frowned at him. “Human, why are you looking at me like that?”
When Cale kept silent, Adite approached them. “The great World Tree has resumed its slumber.”
“I know. I’ll come visit again next time.”
Raon stomped the ground with his front paws, his face a picture of dismay. “What a bummer! I wanna talk to the World Tree too!”
That can’t be it, right?
Cale shook his head to banish the absurd thought. There was no way such a thing could be possible. If his hypothesis was correct, then he’d created a dire situation from the very beginning.
There’s no way saving a single dragon would be that big of an issue.
A dragon lord… Cale couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud. Instead, he said, “Let’s hurry back.”
“All right! I’ll make it quick so we can see Lark!” The chubby six-year-old dragon snatched up the jewel Cale had received from Erhaven and flew off toward the defensive barrier.
Cale watched him go, sweeping all his troubled thoughts into a corner of his mind.
Half a day had passed, and only a single day remained until the battle with the Indomitable Alliance when Cale stood atop a teleportation circle, accompanied by Raon. His destination, however, was somewhere other than Rowoon.
***
Whoosh!
When Cale opened his eyes, he heard the invisible Raon’s voice. ‹It’s been forever since we’ve seen everyone!›
Cale grinned. The teleportation circle they had arrived upon was drawn inside a small tent. As he stepped off of the array, he greeted the two people waiting for him. “I hope you’ve all been well.”
Rosalyn and Lark were here to welcome Cale. He’d snuck over here before anyone else from Rowoon. Choi Han, Hilsmann, and Mary hadn’t traveled to Brek yet. As it had been a while since he’d last seen the pair, Cale initially wore a bright smile—but that smile quickly disappeared.
“Same to you, Lord Cale.” Rosalyn returned his smile, but there was something slightly off about it.
Lark stood beside her with his head hung low, seemingly unable to meet Cale’s eyes. The wolf boy’s evasive posture gave Cale pause. Is he upset because I left him alone for so long?
Just as that thought flashed through Cale’s mind, Lark murmured, “Lord Cale…”
“Hi, Lark. Long time no see.” Cale stepped forward to place his hands on Lark’s drooping shoulders, patting them twice. Lark had grown taller since last they met; though Cale was the elder between them, the teenager loomed over him. “It must’ve been hard for you here all by yourself.”
The moment those words left Cale’s lips, Lark said, “I’m sorry.”
“Hmm?”
At last, the hunched boy’s gaze rose to Cale. He hesitated a moment longer before he spoke again, voice quivering. “I…I can’t go berserk anymore.”
What? Where’s this coming from?
Beastfolk were at their strongest during their berserk transformation, when both their animal and human characteristics were intensified. Lark had already experienced his first transformation; why wouldn’t he be able to do it anymore?
Lark hid his shaking hands while Cale thought the issue over, but his voice still quavered with every word. “I-I know I need to hurry up and become the next Wolf King. I have to take his place, but… I must not be able to get any stronger.”
If events had proceeded according to the original novel, Lark would have surpassed his limits after the despair of losing Pendrick. But this Lark wasn’t the same boy from Birth of a Hero. He wanted to improve, but he couldn’t go berserk.
Cale regarded this young wolf, who was taller than most adults but still a child at heart. Lark still couldn’t bear to hold eye contact with him.
Rosalyn stood behind the trembling teen, watching him with concern. A beastfolk boy who couldn’t go berserk even though his first transformation had already passed… This was Rosalyn’s first time hearing of such a thing as well, so she didn’t know what to say. Moreover, she’d greatly honed her own skills over the past few months, so she was in no position to comfort him. She could only watch Lark and Cale with a gloomy expression on her face.
Suddenly, the tent’s flap whooshed open, and someone shouted, “Commander, Rowoon’s forces are here!”
Rosalyn jumped; they were calling for her. She was in sole command of Brek’s magic offensive. Her subordinate outside the tent had brought her back to her senses. Although Rowoon’s forces weren’t impressive in number, they were friends she could trust to cover her back. She joyfully welcomed their arrival. Their presence was also a reminder of the imminent battle. She knew she needed to hurry, but Lark’s miserable posture made her hesitate.
Just then, Cale muttered, “Why’s a kid like you so skinny?” He gave Lark a thump on the back, then moved to the exit. He opened the flap, shooting a glance back at Lark. “C’mon.”
Lark fidgeted, not taking a step.
“Raon, push him.”
Lark startled at that, then felt a small paw gently pushing his back. “Let’s go, Lark! Everybody wants to see you!” While Raon was invisible, Lark could feel his presence through his paw and his voice.
As Lark bit his lip and shuffled forward, he thought about the people waiting for him and the dragon urging him on. Failing to enter his berserk state made him feel utterly helpless. He was still stronger than the average person, but compared to his companions—to his family—his weakness would likely make him a burden. As he was now, he lacked the confidence to face them.
When Lark faltered, Cale said, “Just look at my back and follow me.”
Lark slowly raised his head, the stubby paw patting him from behind.
Cale lifted the tent flap all the way to reveal Brek’s troops standing in formation outside. Squads had been stationed at various points overlooking the long and treacherous Death Canyon for the last few days, using magic to obfuscate their movements. The largest group, which included Brek’s leadership and Rosalyn herself, were gathered at this spot.
Lark observed the commanding officers and their forces at attention outside the tent. They had all congregated here to see a single person: the military commander of Rowoon’s northeastern region. Every single one of them was awaiting Cale’s arrival.
Cale strode out of the tent. During his time with some of Brek’s mages at Death Canyon, Lark had heard a lot about the war—including everything Cale and the others had accomplished. In light of those tales, Cale’s back appeared especially broad and dependable in Lark’s eyes. The nobleman was worlds apart from someone like him.
“You’re not coming?” Cale asked, his voice cutting through Lark’s thoughts.
Cale waited for him, unmoving. Then Lark felt the gentle pressure of two palms against his back. One belonged to Rosalyn, and the other to the invisible dragon.
Lark took one slow step, and then another. He no longer paid any attention to Brek’s leaders outside the tent; he saw only Cale’s back. Cale’s shorter stature meant that Lark seemed to hunch over as he looked down at him, but the wolf teen’s footsteps continued forward nonetheless.
Cale scanned his surroundings as he walked. Though a sizable crowd had gathered here, the majority of Brek’s forces were stationed in the closest city, ready to move out at a moment’s notice.
When Rosalyn walked up to meet him, Cale asked, “Are all the troops in position?”
“Yes, Lord Cale. We installed teleportation circles at multiple points around the canyon, and the knights and soldiers will gather at dawn.”
Their intel about the Indomitable Alliance’s movements came courtesy of Clope Seca. Rowoon had decided it would be best if the alliance didn’t catch wind of Clope and Faern’s betrayal until later, so Brek’s preparations for the invasion had been carried out as discreetly as possible. According to Clope, the enemy would make their move at first light.
“Even if the Indomitable Alliance does catch on, the number of forces we’re placing won’t seem unusual,” Rosalyn assured Cale.
“Of course.”
As Rosalyn had said, the number of people already stationed at each spot seemed reasonable enough without provoking the assumption that they were preparing for battle. If the Indomitable Alliance had yet to give up, where else could they point their blades? The obvious target was Brek. While Death Canyon might strike some as an improbable invasion point, it wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary for Brek to place a hundred soldiers or so around the canyon’s perimeter, just in case.
“This time, Rowoon and Brek’s mage brigades will have a chance to show off what they can really do.”
Cale chuckled at Rosalyn’s confident smile. Here was the true leader of the mage brigade. Already a mage of the highest order who held the qualifications to rule a Magic Tower in the future, Rosalyn had spent the last few months training her body and her magic. Her mind buzzed with calculations of how she might put that power to use for the first time.
“I wonder what method the dwarves worked out to let them cross Death Canyon,” she commented.
Cale recalled the intelligence Clope had provided.
“It sounds like the Flame Dwarves will play an important role in the upcoming invasion. They seem to be seeking redemption for what happened to their ships in Karo. They claim they’ve found a way to move freely across Death Canyon, but they won’t reveal it until right before the attack. I believe they’re trying to play up their expertise by revealing it at the last possible moment. Anyway, I’ll let Rowoon know as soon as I find out, so it shouldn’t matter. Ha ha ha ha!”
The memory of Clope’s unhinged laugh made Cale grimace. He would only trust half of what that crazy bastard said from now on.
Rosalyn pointed to the side, failing to notice Cale’s expression. “Ah, Lord Cale. You know Lord Ecross, right?”
Cale’s gaze followed Rosalyn’s finger. Count Ecross was the number-one disciple of the top mage in Brek, making him the second-most powerful in the kingdom—though that ranking didn’t include Rosalyn. Cale clearly remembered how Ecross had treated him with dismissive condescension during his last visit to Death Canyon.
The instant they made eye contact, Ecross flinched.
Cale Henituse! Ecross gulped. He remembered what had happened earlier in the year when Cale had come with the Tiger Tribe like it was yesterday. The young lord he met back then felt like a completely different person from the uniform-clad commander standing before him today.
It was only natural. Ecross had heard about everything Cale had done in recent conflicts: the battle at Henituse territory, the incident in Rowoon’s northeastern sea, and lastly the clash in Karo. While all those tales had made the count feel deeply ashamed of his past actions, they also inspired a sense of relief. He knew the person who came here to support Brek was someone he could rely on.
“Hello there,” Cale said at last.
“Warmest greetings to you too, Commander Cale. I trust you’ve been well.”
Neither of them noticed that Ecross had slipped into respectful language when he addressed Cale. Only Raon did. ‹I knew he’d be like this!›
Even so, Cale didn’t have time or attention to spare for him.
“Commander.”
“Mr. Cale!”
A group of people approached Cale from the other side of the encampment: Rowoon’s first royal knight brigade and mage brigade, followed by Choi Han, Mary, and the rest of his party. When Ecross caught sight of the heroes responsible for Rowoon’s victories, he shuffled back a step. They were already veterans of two successful battles; the atmosphere they exuded was worlds apart from his own.
With a glance at the people around him, Cale said, “We should start our meeting.”
From the dwarves with a way of crossing the gorge to the Lion and Bear Tribes and even the accompanying soldiers, they needed a detailed plan to make all these enemies dance in the palm of their hand.
As Cale turned to head back into the tent with Rosalyn and the other leaders, he passed by Lark, who still stood behind him. Before moving on, he told the wolf teen, “Let’s have dinner tonight.”
Then Choi Han, Mary, and the others who weren’t part of the meeting surrounded Lark. Upon seeing as much, Cale felt he could enter the meeting without any worries.
***
“What are you doing? You’re not gonna eat?”
A serviceable dining table had been set up in the tent designated as Cale’s personal quarters. The tent was surprisingly spacious and soundproofed with magic.
While Cale ate from his plate, he eyed the person across from him. “Did Brek not feed you?”
“N-no, they did!” Lark waved his hands, flustered, but Cale still didn’t look pleased. Having experienced starvation himself in the past, he didn’t like seeing children so skinny. Lark had always come across as feeble, and his height made him a bit gangly to begin with, but now he seemed even thinner than Cale remembered.
Cale stared harder at Lark. The young wolf was shrinking in on himself, gripping a fork but unable to eat a single bite.
“If you have something to say,” Cale said, dropping his gaze back to his own plate, “hurry up and say it so you can eat.”
Lark flinched, and his head snapped up. They were only joined by Raon; the others were eating dinner together elsewhere. Lark knew why Cale had arranged this meal for just the three of them. Slowly and haltingly, he strung his words together.
“I…I really did do my best. I wanted to show you that you were right to trust me, so I trained as hard as I could.”
Cale believed him. In order to repay Cale’s faith, Lark had trained nonstop in Brek, pushing himself so hard so that he’d almost passed out on numerous occasions. The days at the canyon seemed to drag on endlessly if he didn’t fill them with training. More than anything else, though, he knew his companions were getting stronger; he didn’t want to be left behind.
“After I heard about what Choi Han and the others did during the battles, I pushed myself harder and harder.”
Just hearing the stories of how his friends had defended Henituse territory, or the battle they’d fought off Rowoon’s coast, made his heart pound wildly. He’d been both relieved at their safe return and bursting with pride, wanting to brag to everyone who would listen, “My family did that!” Those feelings served as his motivation while he passed the time alone at the canyon.
He had another wonderful tool to guide him: the diary Cale had provided, written in its original owner’s blood.
“…And I read through the Wolf King’s diary—the one you gave me.”
Cale watched, listening. He’d read that diary himself; it was the reason he’d left Lark here alone. The young wolf began to recite its contents.
“It said, ‘Wolves need to experience loss and loneliness. Only in solitude can they come to understand the importance of those precious to them and surpass their personal limits.’”
Lark didn’t disagree with that. The Wolf King was right, and Lark could personally vouch for the truth of the words inscribed with dried blood on the old diary’s pages. He too had gone through his first berserk transformation after he lost the Blue Wolf Tribe and his family. That grief had prompted his first steps on the path to getting stronger.
“‘Although wolves may open their own veins, they will never allow their loved ones to bleed,’” Lark continued. He empathized with the Wolf King here as well. He would rather shed his own blood than see those precious to him spill a single drop; he believed that with all his heart.
“I read those words over and over and trained with everything I had. But…” Seeing his fork wobble in his shaking fist, he clasped his hands together. “Suddenly…I couldn’t go berserk anymore. I can’t even remember how I did it. I know I need to hurry and get past this, to fix it somehow, but I keep coming up blank. It happened out of nowhere. I don’t know why—”
Lark stopped short, and Raon gave him a pat him on the shoulder. “How long has this been going on?”
The young wolf’s eyes darted about anxiously. His inability to go berserk and his abrupt regression in strength had happened in the blink of an eye. Lark knew what had triggered the problem, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. The truth would make him sound far too silly and pathetic.
“That’s… You see… It started when…”
As Lark’s lips began to turn blue, Cale interrupted him. “Never mind. I’m sure you’ll get it back someday.”
Lark flinched. “Sir…?”
Cale appeared perfectly at ease, his voice carrying that same serenity. “More importantly, we need to fatten you up. Just kick back and loaf around doing nothing for a while.”
“He’s right! You’re skin and bones, Lark!”
Both man and dragon were calm and collected, as if they’d come here on vacation. Lark’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally managed to squeeze a few words out. “…But the battle’s coming up.”
Battle. It was such a dreadful, daunting word. Yet the response he received from his dinner companions was nonchalant in the extreme.
“So?”
Lark felt something burst inside him. “I haven’t gone berserk since I heard we were going to war!” he blurted out.
Oops. As soon as he revealed the shameful truth, Lark’s expression crumpled. He lowered his head and buried his face in his hands.
The moment he realized he couldn’t transform was when Rosalyn told him about the upcoming invasion. She’d informed him that the Indomitable Alliance was headed to Brek for one last stand. In that instant, his heart had thundered into a frenzy, and he understood that he could no longer go berserk.
“Ever since then—since I learned we’re going to fight—I haven’t been able to transform anymore. Why did this have to happen right before the battle? I need to fight alongside everyone else! I can’t do this now—not when we’re about to go to war!”
Lark’s situation filled him with despair and self-loathing. It was obvious why he’d fallen into this state with this timing: “It’s like I’m trying to avoid the battle. Like I’m afraid. But I need to grow quickly so I can help you all.”
He recalled Rosalyn’s expression, brimming with uncertainty about how to console him, and the surprise on the faces of the friends he hadn’t seen for a while. Their concern just made him despise himself even more. Lark knew he hadn’t made it this far on his own; too many people had helped to guide his cowardly and timid self.
“Choi Han and Rosalyn saved me and my siblings, and then you sheltered us and gave us a home. I need to pay you back for that! Why am I like this?!”
Lark hated himself. He was utterly humiliated. How could he call himself the Wolf King’s heir now? He was nothing but a weakling.
As Lark sighed at the sight of his trembling hands, Cale’s impassive voice carried to his ears. “It’s okay.” Cale set down his fork and focused his full attention on the youth across the table. “Lark?”
It sounded as if Cale wanted Lark to look at him. When the young wolf hesitantly raised his head, he found an expression on Cale’s face that he’d never seen before.
“You’re never truly alone, Lark. I left you here by yourself because I hoped it would help you understand a wolf’s solitude, but I never meant for it to be painful. I didn’t want you to be scared either.”
Cale wasn’t so callous as to wish misery on a child. He had assumed Lark’s awareness of his family’s support would keep him from feeling too lonely, but the pressure and anxiety this meek youth felt seemed to have eclipsed his loneliness. Cale acknowledged his mistake.
Loss. In the original novel, Healer Pendrick’s death had led to Lark’s first berserk transformation and kickstarted his growth, but Cale had no intention of resorting to such extreme measures. Lark was only fifteen years old; only a lunatic would inflict that kind of trauma on a teenager.
“It’s okay. There’s no reason you need to rush,” Cale finished.
“But…you saved me, and you trusted me…”
“Would you abandon me if I was weak?” Cale interjected.
“What—?!” Lark blurted out, his eyes widening in disbelief. Abandon Cale? Such a thing was inconceivable.
“You wouldn’t, right?” Smiling at Lark, Cale picked up his fork again. “Don’t worry about something that should be obvious. Just eat.”
Were things truly so simple? Lark floundered, at a loss for words. As Raon pushed another fork in Lark’s direction, Cale continued to speak.
“If you really want to repay my trust, show me that you’re healthy first. And just watch. Your cohorts—no, your family is stronger than you think. Even I’m strong enough to protect you during a battle,” Cale quipped. Lark had witnessed quite a few new expressions on Cale’s face today.
Gradually, Lark lifted his fork and started to eat. Even the most luxurious foods had tasted bland on his tongue during his stay at Death Canyon, but for the first time in ages, he found himself enjoying his meal. “…It’s delicious.”
“Eat up, then.”
As he watched Cale push another packed plate toward him, Lark shoveled food into his mouth one forkful after another, stuffing his face to stuff down his feelings. If he didn’t, he felt they would come spilling out.
Raon watched over the young wolf in silence before his dark-blue eyes slid to the side. Munching away on his meat, Raon snuck little glances at Cale all the while.
***
Once Lark had eaten his fill, Cale saw him out and then took a look around the quiet tent.
I’ll be able to sleep for three hours. He would be drowning in work as soon as the day began, so he needed to get at least a short nap in to keep himself going. There were probably people stuck on guard duty at the moment, but one of the items on Cale’s agenda was to rest.
“Raon.”
“What is it, human?”
“Connect the communication sphere, please.”
Honestly speaking, it’s all I can do to protect myself right now. It’ll be hard for me to look after that tall teenager too.
After thinking Lark’s situation over, Cale had decided that he needed to call a certain person.He couldn’t trust his own strength, so he planned to put his network to use.
“By the way, human…” Raon began as Cale watched him prepare the communication sphere.
“What is it?”
The black dragon paused and looked into Cale’s eyes. Gaze unwavering, Raon asked, “Is it really okay that I haven’t gone through my first growth phase?”
Cale remembered when Raon had buried himself underneath the blanket and wept at his inability to initiate his first growth phase, saying he wasn’t great and mighty after all. Why was he bringing that up all of a sudden? Cale supposed the situation with Lark’s berserk transformation might be the cause.
Regardless, when he saw the dragon’s expectant gaze, he chose to respond. “Didn’t I answer this before? Don’t ask me such a silly question.”
“It’s okay if I’m weak?”
What the heck is he talking about? Cale couldn’t believe what this fearsome, far-from-weak dragon was saying, but he kept his tone nonchalant as he replied, “I thought you were weak when I met you in the cave.”
The small paw touching the round device jerked. The cave.
Raon remembered the moment he first met Cale. He’d been helpless back then, his powers smothered under mana-restriction chains. Too weak to even contemplate escape, he could only languish in the darkness, blocking out all sound and pretending he couldn’t think for himself.
Even though he wasn’t strong, Cale had saved him.
Raon felt a rough hand caressing his head. Cale heaved a quiet sigh, mumbling under his breath that a six-year-old dragon was still a child.
“Raon, I’ve lived at least thirty—er, fifteen years longer than you have,” Cale said, glancing at Raon as he hastily corrected himself, “but I’m still weaker than you. I’m not even as strong as your front paw. Is that a problem?”
“It’s not a problem at all.”
Cale nodded at the young dragon’s firm response, as if to emphasize his point.
Raon went back to connecting the communication sphere while peeking surreptitiously at Cale. A moment later, he asked, “Human…why did you save me? I’m just curious!”
He watched Cale lean back in a chair. “Why did I save you? Just because.”
“Why do you keep me by your side?”
This dragon seemed to be buzzing with questions today. “Does there have to be a reason?” Cale shot back, lazy but honest.
“Doesn’t there?” Raon hadn’t asked until now, but he’d long wondered why Cale saved him and kept him around. Nothing in this world happened without a reason; all things were connected, and those connections led to different situations. He knew they must be traveling together for a purpose, and he was curious about what that purpose might be.
The human who claimed to have lived at least fifteen years longer than he had replied, “Your home is our home. Isn’t that enough?”
Your home is our home. Raon repeated that line in his head. He wasn’t sure why, but it had a ring to it. Raon contemplated the words for a while before storing them away in his mind, suddenly feeling very content. A slow smile spread over the six-year-old dragon’s face.
“You’re right, human! That’s enough!”
Cale didn’t know what was going on, but Raon seemed full of energy once again. “The call,” Cale sternly reminded him.
“Oh, right! This great and mighty dragon will connect it right away!” And so he did.
Cale finished all of his calls with the giggling Raon on his lap, then headed straight to bed. These next three hours were invaluable; he wouldn’t get a chance to sleep properly once the battle began.
Just three hours. Cale flopped down on the bed without hesitation to claim his precious rest, already dressed in his uniform so he wouldn’t need to get up until the last possible moment. He closed his eyes, paying no mind as Raon extinguished the light inside the tent and lay down next to him. After eating his fill with Lark earlier, it was easy to drift off.
Right before he fell asleep, Cale heard Raon’s voice calling to him. “Human… Human.”
I guess kids his age really do ask a bunch of questions. Cale felt overwhelmed. A child’s curiosity could be a terrifying thing.
Raon went on to ask, “Human, if you went back in time, would you save me again?”
Why is he like this today?
“I told you not to ask something so silly.”
“If I’m ever that weak again and need your help, will you save me then too?”
Cale shifted his sleepy body and rested his hand on Raon’s head. He felt his consciousness slowly fading as he answered, “Of course.”
With that, sleep took him.
Raon watched Cale for a long time before burrowing in at his side and curling into a ball, eyelids drooping. With Cale’s words echoing in his mind like a lullaby, he fell asleep in moments.
Soon the gentle breathing of the grown man and the young dragon filled the tent.
***
In the morning…
Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep.
Cale squirmed at the sound of the blaring alarm. He knew he needed to open his eyes, but it proved a monumental task; all he wanted was to keep sleeping.
“Ugh…”
After tossing and turning a bit more, he finally forced his eyes open. A view of the ceiling in the dark tent greeted him.
Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep.
The alarm’s wailing was intended to wake Cale and the others nearby. He sat up on the bed, groaning like an old man, and rubbed his tired eyes. “Argh…”
Then he flinched.
“Hmm?”
Strange… It was too quiet. His head should’ve been rattling with chatter right about now, while a weight pressed down on his stomach… But all was still. Instead, Cale heard something else.
It was the sound of someone breathing, but it seemed somewhat rough.
Beeeep. Beeeep.
With the alarm still pealing around him, Cale turned his head. His eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to make out the form at his side. There was a small creature lying right next to him, curled up and still fast asleep: the black dragon.
He’d heard this ragged breathing before. Hesitant, Cale extended a hand toward Raon’s head. When his palm touched Raon’s brow, he frowned. It was hot—much too hot.
Raon’s body was on fire.
The dragon’s black wings drooped at his sides, devoid of strength. It looked like he’d lost consciousness due to his excessive fever.
Dawn had arrived. The last battle with the Indomitable Alliance was about to begin, but Raon was sick.
Chapter 51: I Will… Part One
Chapter 51:
I Will… Part One
“RAON.” Cale called the dragon’s name, but the only response he received was the sound of Raon’s labored breathing.
Cale squeezed his eyes shut tight for a beat before opening them again. Raon appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but his body burned with a serious fever, and his breath fell in heavy pants. This was completely different from the cold he’d caught before.
The first growth phase—that was the only explanation Cale could think of. He recalled what Erhaven had told him.
“He’s pretty clever. He learned things in just one month that should’ve taken three. He’s not growing, though,” the ancient dragon had said. “He’s not entering his first growth phase. It should be time, so what’s going on?”
Raon hadn’t been able to grow even though he’d learned everything he needed to do so. The words Cale had heard as he drifted off to sleep replayed in his head: “If I’m ever that weak again and need your help, would you save me then too?”
Beeeep. Beep.
“Damn it!” Cale couldn’t hold back a curse—but not at the memory of what Raon had told him.Was it really necessary for the alarm to keep blaring this loudly just to wake people up? Could they afford to make such a racket when they needed to be wary of the enemy hearing them?
A thought occurred to Cale. He bit his lip and looked at Raon again.
The young dragon kept Cale’s communication device in his subspace. Guardian Knight Clope only communicated with Cale via that specific device, and Cale had ordered the man to contact him directly in the event of any changes to the Indomitable Alliance’s plans or some other matter of urgency. He’d also given Clope the information for an alternate device in case of emergencies, but…
Beeeep. Beep.
“Mr. Cale!” Choi Han called from outside the tent.
Cale pressed his fingers into his temples. What if Clope had tried to contact him while he was sleeping—during those three hours while Raon was knocked out by fever? Without Raon to connect him, Cale wouldn’t have been able to answer that call.
Beeeep. Beep.
This wasn’t the sound of an alarm; it was a warning. Something had gone awry.
This is insane.
Cale controlled his expression as best he could and threw the tent flap open. Swoosh!
Outside, soldiers blew past him in a rush. Continuous flashes of light pulsed from the base’s teleportation circle. The soldiers and knights stationed at the nearby city were transporting over in droves.
“Sir, the enemy is assembling on the other side of the canyon!”
Cale turned toward Choi Han’s voice. Choi Han, Hilsmann, Mary, and Lark were all present, alongside some of the royal knights—no, the core members of Rowoon’s forces. Cale opened his mouth to address them.
“Choi Han and Lark, get in here. The rest of you stand by.”
Choi Han found it odd that Cale would call them into the tent like nothing was amiss, but he obeyed regardless. The urgency he saw in Cale’s eyes didn’t appear to be due to the enemy’s actions… Had Clope turned against them?
That thought hastened his steps, but when the darkness inside the tent greeted him, he stopped in his tracks. “Mr. Cale!”
Lark, who was following behind him, froze in shock. The pair beheld Raon, curled up on the bed with his eyes closed.
Choi Han’s confusion ebbed away. “I was wondering if the Guardian Knight had betrayed us. Now I understand why you didn’t go into detail out there.”
Choi Han realized that despite the circumstances, Cale hadn’t received any information from Clope. Even in this state of emergency, Cale was worried about Raon’s condition.
Seeing that Cale maintained an appearance of stoicism even though he was probably more distressed than anyone, Choi Han spoke as calmly as possible. “Ten minutes ago, we noticed that the enemy was using teleportation circles for large-scale transportation. This is three hours earlier than we expected. We’re assembling our own forces as we speak. Right now, all five of our large teleportation circles are busy moving Brek’s forces to Death Canyon.”
They were using large magic circles prepared in advance by the mage brigade. Death Canyon cut through the Western Continent from east to west, and the mages had placed five teleportation circles around the center of the shortest route to Brek’s nearby city. Cale’s tent adjoined the third circle, located at the midpoint of this route.
“Rosalyn is at the border of Brek and Death Canyon, preparing for the enemy attack.”
Cale shifted, peering at the figure on his bed. With Raon out of commission, Rosalyn was the only one aware of his group’s circumstances who could operate a communication device, and she was about to clash with the enemy.
I guess Lord Erhaven wouldn’t be available either. It was difficult to contact the ancient dragon at the moment.
As a medley of thoughts tumbled through Cale’s head, he remembered something he had heard when he first started his job as Kim Roksu: “Stay calm. A person who handles information must always keep a cool head. Got it, newbie?” That advice came from his former team leader. The man who had noticed Kim Roksu’s talents and helped him grow always spoke in a steady voice.
Although his insides boiled, Cale’s gaze remained indifferent as he looked at Choi Han. Yet the name he called belonged to someone else. “Lark.”
“Yes, sir?”
“You will stand by my side no matter what. No matter what. Got it?”
“U-understood!” Lark responded, clenching his fist. The young wolf’s mind was simmering as well, and the piercing wail of the alarm only threw him into further turmoil.
Once he received Lark’s acknowledgment, Cale moved toward the bed, where he proceeded to bundle Raon’s coiled body up in a blanket. In no time, the pint-sized 120-centimeter dragon was swaddled from head to tail. Then Cale scooped Raon up and cradled him in his arms.
What other choice did he have? He couldn’t leave Raon here, but he couldn’t linger by the dragon’s sickbed either. He had to carry Raon along with him.
“Choi Han—”
“I’ll stay close to you three at all times,” Choi Han cut in. “That’ll be my priority.”
Choi Han had no doubts about where he needed to be. The battle was vital, and he did want to help Rosalyn defend her kingdom. But Cale, Lark, and Raon—his family—came first.
Once Choi Han expressed his intentions, however, Cale frowned at him. “What are you talking about?” Cale asked, looking as disgruntled as ever. “It’s up to you to wipe out those bastards before they get here.”
Defeating the enemy before they arrived… Choi Han’s attitude grew solemn.
Meanwhile, Cale stepped over to Lark and hefted the wrapped-up Raon toward him. “Here.” Cale’s arms quivered slightly from the effort of holding Raon up. Although the young dragon wasn’t very long, he had gotten chubby; he weighed quite a bit.
“Hm? Oh! Yes, sir.” After some confusion, Lark accepted Raon, feeling the black dragon’s weight settle in his arms. When he looked down, he could see Raon panting through an opening in the blanket. It was a view no one else would be able to see.
Lark tightened his grip, an inexplicable emotion stirring within him. He’d always thought of Raon as an all-powerful being simply because he was a dragon, but in addition to being sick, he was lighter than Lark expected.
Raon was part of Lark’s family too.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Ah, yes, sir!” Lark hurried after Cale.
“Stick behind me all day. Got it?”
“Will do!”
Lark knew Cale was trying to protect the two of them. Though Cale wore a calm facade, how worried must he be inside? Lark knew exactly what he had to do during this battle: carry the ailing Raon and diligently follow Cale. It wasn’t much, but the fact that he now had a clear role to fulfill during the conflict sent a surge of renewed strength through Lark’s body.
Wolves grew stronger when they had someone or something to protect. There was a fine line between loneliness and a sense of belonging—this was a truth neither Lark nor Cale knew much about.
Choi Han watched as Cale left the tent with Lark.
Swoosh. With another lift of the flap, Cale came to stand before Rowoon’s core forces. Mary, Hilsmann, the mages, and the royal knights watched him expectantly, awaiting his instruction without any concern or hesitation despite the blaring of the alarm and the chaos around them.
Beeeep. Beeeep.
Cale faced the troops under his command. When Choi Han emerged from the tent and walked to his side, Cale outlined the group’s objective. “Our goal for today is simple: defense over offense.”
Raon was the true wielder of the formidable silver shield that people recognized. Cale’s shield was only capable of incredible defensive power because Raon was with him; it was unreasonable to expect him to accomplish the same feats today.
Nevertheless, Cale couldn’t show weakness. He could only give them a different order: “Don’t go far, and don’t act alone. Move in groups of at least three people at all times.”
Although they’d come here to aid Brek, Cale’s first priority was his own life and the lives of the people from his kingdom. He would ensure that he and those close to him survived. Accordingly, he instructed Rowoon’s forces to favor defensive actions—with one exception.
Cale shifted his gaze to Choi Han. The swordmaster nodded in lieu of a response, clenching the scabbard in his hand.
“Leave before the defense starts.” Choi Han was the only person who had received orders to crush the enemy before they arrived. He understood exactly what Cale meant. With Raon incapacitated, he was the only one available.
As a grin appeared on Choi Han’s face, Cale said, “Everyone to your positions!”
With the flapping of mages’ robes and the clanking of knights’ armor, their forces mobilized in different directions. Cale walked off as well, with Mary, Hilsmann, Choi Han, and Lark in tow.
“Did something happen to Lord Raon?” Mary’s mechanical voice carried a rare tremor.
Cale looked at the black-robed necromancer and the concerned vice-captain beside her. “Something came up,” he replied. Though they both flinched, he offered no hollow words of comfort. One needed to face trouble head-on; that was the only way to accurately assess the situation and find a solution. Cale told them as much, saying, “I need you both to keep your guard up so nothing else happens.”
Don’t get hurt, and stay alert. At that admonition, necromancer and vice-captain snapped their mouths shut. Mary’s quivering lips and Hilsmann’s fretful face quickly returned to normal.
Cale turned away from the silent duo and set off toward Rosalyn. He needed to rendezvous with her. She was the person who would have the best grasp of the current situation, so he would ask her for help.
***
Swish. Swisssh.
The wind sighed through the lingering darkness of dawn’s first blush as Cale watched Rosalyn’s back. Death Canyon was comprised of unfathomably steep cliffs twisting left and right over hundreds of kilometers, and Rosalyn stood at its deepest drop-off—the chasm that formed the border between Brek and Askosan. With the mage brigade and a large teleportation circle beside her, she gazed at the Askosan troops on the other side of the rift.
The massive magic circle flashed nonstop as knights and soldiers appeared in a steady stream. Cale had no attention to spare for all that, nor did he pay any mind to the sound of Vice-Captain Hilsmann saying, “What the…?”
On the opposing cliffside, in enemy territory, countless lights beamed from the ground. The single glow pulsing from the teleportation circle on Cale’s side paled in comparison to their dozens upon dozens of flares.
“Fitting for the final battle,” he commented.
A legion of enemy soldiers assembled at the long, winding canyon edge, staring over at Cale and his companions. The sheer multitude of troops defied belief; compared to the forces that had attacked Karo or Rowoon, their numbers were mind-boggling.
Flap, flap. Banners identifying them as members of the Indomitable Alliance snapped in the rough winds on the other side.
The northern lands, including Faern, were all kingdoms of knights. Knights were at their most effective in ground combat. That being the case, these kingdoms had trained up plenty of infantry as well. Apart from the river at the base of the chasm cutting between Brek and Askosan, there was no water on this battlefield.
“I expected as much,” said Hilsmann, “but there really are a ton of them.”
“No, this is worse than what that crazy bastard told us.”
Cale’s response startled the vice-captain. “What?!”
The enemies’ numbers exceeded the figures Clope had provided. Specifically, there were too many foot soldiers.
Sidling up to Rosalyn, Cale greeted her. “Miss Rosalyn.”
“Oh, Lord Cale!”
A single question dominated Cale’s thoughts. He placed his hand on Rosalyn’s shoulder and quickly whispered in her ear, “How are they going to cross with so many people?”
Death Canyon divided the two kingdoms; just how would they bring all those troops across the expanse? No matter how formidable they were on land, the enemy couldn’t get here if they didn’t have a way to cross the gorge. In fact, as Brek’s mages could use long-distance volleys to strike from the opposite ledge, their side held the terrain advantage. All the soldiers in the world wouldn’t matter if the alliance couldn’t attack.
“I was hoping to ask you that.” Rosalyn had been waiting for Cale, expecting him to bring her information from Clope, but his question told her he didn’t know any more than she did. “Did something happen?”
“Raon is sick.”
Rosalyn’s face hardened. She promptly took out a communication sphere for Cale to use. “Whom should I connect you to?”
“His Highness, Prince Albert.”
Without another word, Rosalyn channeled her mana into the communication device. Her efforts proved unnecessary, however, as it began to glow red.
Beeeep. Beeeep.
She immediately connected the call and passed the device into Cale’s hands.
“Cale,” said the person on the other side of the screen.
“What did he say, Your Highness?”
Albert Crossman was the only other contact Cale had provided to Clope. He alone would know what Cale was planning and take care of things adequately. As Cale waited for Albert’s response, certain that Clope had told Albert how the alliance intended to move the troops, a knight shouted to Rosalyn.
“Commander, the soldiers are stepping back!”
That same moment, Cale saw the enemy soldiers forming up. The massive army moved in unison.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Tremors shook the ground, and the foot soldiers cleared a path.
“Apparently, they made wings. It seems they got the idea after seeing the necromancer’s flying monsters in the battle for Henituse territory.”
Cale picked out the forms of bears passing through the gap between the soldiers. Of the most powerful beastfolk tribes, bears were known to be the most plentiful.
“Since the wyverns were too difficult to control without Clope, they killed them all,” Albert continued, speaking with a sense of urgency. “Then the dwarves combined the wyverns’ bones with steel and magic stones to make wings. They crafted sets out of every wyvern.”
Boom! Boom! Boom! The ground shuddered with every step the bears took. Each wore a pair of large wings on their shoulders—structures of bone built in imitation of wyvern wings. In their berserk states, the large bears were able to carry them.
Rosalyn’s tense voice reached Cale’s ears. “Your Highness, how many of them are there?” she asked, looking toward the bears appearing on the other side.
Albert’s response was immediate. “At least a thousand.”
A thousand? That was no small number. And not only that, but every single one could fly…
“It’s not just the bears either,” Albert added. “That number includes the dwarves.”
Strong, stout figures marched in behind the bears, outfitted with smaller sets of wings. For the first time in this war, the Flame Dwarves had shown themselves. Dwarves were known for their physical prowess; they were muscular despite their short statures, with intimidating weapons in their hands.
Rosalyn felt the twinge of an oncoming headache. How are those wings activated? she wondered. If they’re using magic stones, it has to be through magic. Can our mages just shoot them down with spells when they’re in the air?
A different question suddenly flashed through her mind.
Then how will the foot soldiers cross over?
Cale and Albert soon identified the answer for her.
“That’s not the end of it, is it, Your Highness?”
“No, there’s one more thing.”
Screeeeech, screech. A mechanical shrieking tore across the canyon, like the turning of heavy wheels.
“Commander! The knights are stepping back now too!”
At this point, both the foot soldiers and the knights had yielded their places. As tens of thousands of enemies mobilized, a large object came into view between the shifting troops.
“They made bridges,” Albert said. The dwarves had announced their intention to build their own overpasses—something to connect the two sides of the canyon in multiple locations. “Those thousand-some winged soldiers are supposed to fight until the bridges can be installed.”
The airborne forces weren’t aiming to attack directly; the enemy had also chosen a defensive strategy. Their job was to protect the bridges.
“Is that really a bridge…?” Rosalyn couldn’t believe it. She stared at the enormous, round contraption being propelled on a set of wheels. “No! That’s not a bridge! It’s carrying magic bombs!”
Indeed, it wasn’t a bridge at all. The humming vibrations coming from the opposing cliff told her these objects were packed with magic bombs on the verge of exploding. She was sure of it.
“The soldiers and knights are still withdrawing,” Cale said. “It looks like their goal was to keep us from seeing those things.”
While Rosalyn gaped at the winged enemies and the magic-bomb launchers that the soldiers and knights had been hiding, Cale went on, “They’re targeting the cliff wall. If you destroy both sides of the canyon, that’ll make a path across. I suppose that counts as a bridge too.”
Rosalyn peered over the edge at the ground far below. The cliffs were on separate sides of the rift. If both cliffs crumbled, the debris would fill the canyon.
The enemy continued to withdraw, retreating farther and farther as if to avoid something dangerous.
Rosalyn spun back to Cale. “They’re destroying the canyon?!”
“Clope Seca said the dwarves have one goal,” Albert told them. “They want to make a path to come down to the south anytime they wish. The gorge keeps them at bay, so they’re going to get rid of it.”
This was the Indomitable Alliance’s final battle, but it was a finale meant to lay the groundwork for a new beginning. The dwarves had prepared for this last stand with the aim of destroying one of the Five Wonders.
“That’s why Askosan and Norland moved all of their foot soldiers: to show their support for the dwarves’ decision.”
That explained the unexpected spike in soldiers. It was an expression of solidarity from the rest of the Indomitable Alliance. Even if they lost this battle, they wouldn’t truly taste defeat as long as the dwarves’ operation succeeded. Doing so would leave the door open for future ambitions.
“Those bastards!” Rosalyn had never experienced what it felt like to be cornered, but she hadn’t anticipated anything like this. The scene playing out before her eyes filled her with anxiety. Her expression took on a frigid edge as she shouted, “Back! Everybody move back!”
Despite her distress, Rosalyn knew she was the only one here who could carry the magic offensive while Raon was sick.
“All mages, get into attack formation!”
Next, she turned to the mages who were teleporting the soldiers to the battlefield. She needed to delay the transfer of their troops. Things would only get worse if Brek’s forces came here—they could get caught in the explosion. Besides, what they needed right now were long-range attacks. Magic was more important than infantry at the moment.
“Stop the teleportation!” she ordered.
“Pardon?”
“Prepare for an assault!”
She wanted the mages manning the teleportation circles to join the offensive as well. Completely sealing the enemy’s attack would be their best defense.
Concealing her inner tumult, Rosalyn rattled off one command after another. Then the last sound she wanted to hear reached her ears.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The winged bears were charging toward the ledge. Hundreds of them dashed forward to propel themselves into the air.
Boom! Boom!
Rosalyn’s eyes wavered as she watched them advance. Just then, she heard another unwelcome noise.
Thrummm.
The launchers containing dozens—no, an untold number of magic bombs produced a hum of their own. Their activation mechanism seemed to work slowly, but it progressed bit by bit. It looked like their contents would come hurtling this way before long.
Did they mix alchemy in as well? A flurry of thoughts bounced around Rosalyn’s mind.
“Miss Rosalyn,” Cale calmly interjected.
“Yes, Lord Cale?!” Rosalyn’s voice was laced with despair, but then she flinched—Cale had abruptly presented her with a small pouch.
“Consider this an advance payment,” he said.
The pouch was barely open, but Rosalyn sensed a significant quantity of mana within. It vibrated as if in response to the magic bombs.
Rosalyn accepted it with a slight quiver in her hands, opening it up to reveal a subspace pocket.
“There are hundreds of top-grade magic stones in there,” Cale informed her. “Use them.”
For a heartbeat, Rosalyn forgot how to breathe. Just one top-grade magic stone was incredibly precious, and here were hundreds of them, resonating in one big heap.
Cale walked past her, coming to a stop in front of the mages manning the large teleportation circle. “Does the blinking light mean that the other side is requesting transport?”
“Sorry? Uh, yes, that’s correct.”
“Please let them through.”
“What? But—”
The mages’ eyes shifted between Rosalyn and the enemies across the gorge.
“Please hurry,” Cale pressed.
At his second request, Rosalyn nodded to the mages, who activated the circle again.
Meanwhile, the first group of enemies were taking to the skies. Boom! Boom! Boom!
She watched as approximately one hundred bears launched into the open air. They really were flying. Their artificial wings didn’t flap like the real thing, only moving a little bit, but they managed to do the job of keeping the bears airborne. Hovering in a line, the bears stared at Brek’s forces as if primed to swoop toward them at any moment.
Rosalyn gasped as a countermeasure occurred to her. Offensive spells and flight magic!
Clenching the pouch in her hand, she whirled on the mage brigade. Their true opponent now was time.
Mary picked up her own subspace pouch, which was full of bones. “I will help as well.” Rosalyn shot the necromancer a smile as she strode toward the mages.
The teleportation circle flashed. A breeze brushed past Rosalyn toward the source of the light, ruffling her long, red hair as she turned her head. Familiar figures materialized on the spot.
“It has been too long.”
“Greetings, Gashan,” Cale said.
It was the shaman Gashan. Gusts of wind surged around the leader of the Tiger Tribe, who had arrived with his kinsfolk.
Rosalyn stopped in her tracks as Cale spoke again. “Gashan, use your wind incantation. And call your crows over.”
Gashan commanded the crows as if they were familiars. When Cale’s group had dismantled Arm’s fleet over the ocean between continents last year, the crows had helped immensely by delivering messages. There were many other ways to use them, however.
The tiger shaman chuckled. “Do they just need to pester those great big crows in the air?” He smoothly gestured to the oversized crows in question: the bears.
Gashan bared his sharp fangs in a grin, unable to hide his excitement. Unlike mages, a shaman could wield the power of nature directly—and the strongest winds of all the Five Wonders blustered through Death Canyon.
At the same time, Cale turned toward Rosalyn. “Miss Rosalyn, let’s move them to the other side,” he said, pointing to the tigers. Rosalyn followed the gesture with her eyes.
More and more tigers appeared via the teleportation circle. Their steps grew heavier as they strode out of the magic array, bodies expanding as they went berserk. They let out rumbling laughs, thrilled that Cale was sending them straight to the enemy. The menacing expressions on the tigers’ faces made their allied mages and soldiers gulp.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Meanwhile, another hundred hostile troops followed the first group into the air.Making such a racket, they missed another sound—the next activation of the teleportation circle. Cale and the mages didn’t miss it, though, andCale moved toward the array.
Last night, after Cale had learned that Lark was unable to fight, he’d contacted someone else.
Fwick. A strand of water coiled around the woman’s arm as she offered Cale her greetings. “Hello there.”
“Witira.”
The future Whale Queen had arrived.
Whales were the strongest beings on this earth apart from dragons—and though they were weaker than dragons, they could hold their own against them. This woman, a humpback whale, was the leader of the tribe.
Witira clenched her water whip as she flashed Cale a smile. “I didn’t want to come alone, so they came with me.”
“I hope you’ve been well, Lord Cale.”
“Ahem! Good to see you again.”
Faseton, the half-blood whale, and Archie, the greatest whale warrior, had joined Witira on the battlefield.
Keenly aware of Raon’s labored breathing behind him, Cale faced the assembled beastfolk. It was common knowledge that the whales and tigers were the most aggressive of the beastfolk; Cale wouldn’t push them toward defense as he had with the others.
As Choi Han drew his sword, Cale commanded them all to do what they did best: “Destroy everything.”
Cale’s usual companions were the first to act.
Rosalyn gripped a top-grade magic stone in her hand and cried out, “Choi Han!”
On cue, Choi Han bolted toward the cliff’s edge.
Thrummm. Mana oscillated around Rosalyn; her other hand was busy casting a magic spell. At the end of this sequence, Choi Han kicked off the ground with a thud.
Rosalyn grinned.
In Birth of a Hero, Rosalyn had been the most levelheaded member of the group, possessed of an innate fearlessness that was uniquely her own. She refused to limit herself, boldly throwing away her position as a princess to pursue her dream of ruling a Magic Tower.
That said, levelheaded didn’t always equate to calm.
Rosalyn’s gaze locked on her enemies, her hand extending toward Choi Han. “You’re all dead.”
Shaaaaa. Wind surrounded Choi Han’s body—flight magic. Rosalyn sent Choi Han into the sky, then proceeded with the next step.
“First, second, and third mage brigades, prepare magic circles for our strongest attack!” As the respective mage captains from Rowoon and Brek approached her, she tossed a top-grade magic stone to each of them. There was no hesitation in her movements. The captains caught the stones in shock. “The fourth brigade will cast a haste spell to send our allies to the rear!”
While Rosalyn threw another stone to the captain of the fourth brigade, Ecross—the royal mage’s top disciple—moved toward her. He was the vice-captain of the third mage brigade. “What about flight magic, Commander?”
He was thinking about the Tiger Tribe, the Whale Tribe, and the experts on Cale’s side. They needed a flight spell to send these strong individuals to fight against the bears.
“I’ll do it,” Rosalyn said.
“Excuse me?”
Making others levitate was no easy task; a mage needed to be at least middle-tier to perform that type of magic.
Rosalyn didn’t spare Ecross a single glance as mana coalesced around her. “I can take care of it. Return to the third mage brigade, Vice-Captain.”
Ecross paused, then stepped back.
One, two, three… Strands of crimson mana spun out of Rosalyn’s body, weaving about her like threads—or perhaps more like waves undulating around her. Ecross found himself remembering something his master, Brek’s royal mage, had told him: “You cannot evaluate Princess Rosalyn according to ordinary standards, Ecross. There’s a reason she cast aside her birthright.”
He looked around. The combined forces of Rowoon’s and Brek’s mage brigades made for an impressive army. Ecross had never seen so many battle mages gathered in one place before…or so many mages together, period. The only place one would expect to see hundreds of mages congregating was a Magic Tower, but there was no such location on the continent at present; the current Magic Tower had fallen.
Ecross watched Rosalyn from behind. Countless red mana threads surrounded her, so thickly intertwined that he couldn’t make out her shape anymore. The woman commanding the mages appeared as fiery and volatile as her blazing red hair.
“I’m looking forward to Princess Rosalyn’s—excuse me, the mage Rosalyn’s future. Pay close attention and learn from her during the battle, Ecross.”
Master…I think I understand the future you’re waiting for. Ecross turned away from Rosalyn, walking back to his position with rapid strides.
At the same time, Rosalyn smiled at the person standing next to her. “Don’t worry, Lord Cale,” she said playfully. “I’ll make sure to reimburse you for all these magic stones.”
“I’ll give you a discount if you buy them in bulk,” Cale shot back.
Chuckling at Cale’s response, Rosalyn closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she shouted, “Move out!”
As the crimson threads around her shot in a single direction, the tigers reacted to Rosalyn’s yell. The hulking beastfolk surged into motion, the ground rumbling with their footsteps.
Gashan’s voice rang out from within the group. “O winds, bring forth those with black wings!” He stabbed his staff into the ground.
A chorus of cawing sounded in the distance. What appeared to be a black cloud advanced toward them, a shifting mass of darkness with the rising sun at its back. The black cloud wasn’t approaching from only one direction, however. Dozens—no, hundreds of crows were swarming the battlefield from all corners of the sky.
Rosalyn and Gashan made eye contact. Flashing his canines in a smile, Gashan said, “They’ll be the ground for the tigers you’ve blessed with flight, as well as a shroud for our enemies’ eyes.”
In addition to serving as footholds for the tigers’ every airborne step, the crows would flock together to block the alliance’s line of sight. In that moment of temporary blindness, the tigers and Choi Han would strike.
“Wonderful. This is excellent.” Rosalyn nodded, closed her eyes, and opened up her hands. Her red hair blazed like the rising sun as the top-grade magic stone floated upward, threads of crimson mana winding around the tigers’ bodies according to her movements.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The tigers kicked off the ground with force, and the red threads lifted them up into the air. Snap. Even as the strings of mana tethering them to Rosalyn tore apart, the connection remained. The fiery strands surrounded the tigers, slowly fading to transparency until they transformed into a gusting wind.
“Heh heh heh, we meet those bear bastards once again!”
The tigers split up. Each tiger would have to face dozens of Bear Tribe enemies on their own, but even with those odds, they couldn’t contain their enthusiasm.
“You mongrels are the tigers that killed our brown bear kinsmen!”
The tigers scoffed at the brown bears’ growling. “They died during some infighting. Why blame us?”
The crows flapped beneath their feet, lending them their bodies. Far below, their leader’s voice resonated from the ground.
“Run like you’re in the mountains!” Gashan told them.
The tigers licked their lips. The mountains were the place where they could be at their strongest. They lightly boosted themselves off of the crows beneath them, their white martial arts uniforms fluttering in the wind.
Flicking their wings, the bears surged toward a charging tiger. “Can you really handle a dozen of us on your own?!”
The tiger laughed. “How could someone wearing such an obnoxious set of wings defeat a mountain tiger?”
With the black pathway underfoot and the clear winds to support them, the tigers had nothing slowing them down. They vaulted effortlessly over the attacking bears on those uncomfortable wings, the raw force of their bounding on par with the rumbling of an earthquake.
One tiger went on the offensive, landing behind the bear who had taunted her. Her hand shot out and grabbed the bear’s artificial wings.
“Y-you little…!” The bear struggled, but he couldn’t move much with the tiger clutching his wings.
Just then, his cohorts leapt at the tiger from all directions. Anyone could see that she had nowhere to run.
The bear with captive wings cackled. “You can’t get away! This will be your grave! Ah ha ha ha!”
“You bear bastards sure are noisy.”
The bear’s head snapped up. “What?” Though he could see dozens of his kinsfolk racing toward the tiger, she still wore a smile on her face. The bear whose wings she held felt a sudden shiver zing down his spine.
“We’re on a mountain,” the tiger declared, her spirits soaring. Her fangs gave her gentle smile a vicious edge. “There’re no flat plains in a mountain range. In a place like this, you only have two choices: up or down.”
Wait… In the time it took for the bear’s eyes to fly wide open, the tiger kicked off of the black flock of birds again and went into a dive—straight into Death Canyon. With the bear in her clutches, she plunged into the darkness of the gorge.
“Y-you’re insane!” The wind whipping against the bear’s face turned his nerves to ice, and the tiger’s laughter behind him pierced his heart with a sharp dose of terror.
Then the tiger tightened her grip on his wings…and pulled.
Screech, crack!
She ripped the bear’s wings apart, rendering them useless. As they fell, the tiger tore off piece after piece, leaving the bear powerless to do anything but watch as broken chunks of his wings tumbled into the abyss below. Fragments of bone, metal shards—one by one, they all succumbed to gravity’s siren call.
“I should save the magic stone, though.”
The magic stone didn’t drop; instead, the bear felt a choking hand close around his throat. He sputtered, gasping for breath. Those unwieldy wings had hindered his movements, preventing him from fighting back, and now his throat was in the tiger’s grasp.
With one last groan, the bear’s head lolled to one side. He’d lost consciousness.
“Goodbye.”
As the tiger let go of his neck, his motionless body continued to plummet. The tiger took a step forward,the crows swooping in as footholds. Raising her head, she met the gazes of the bears staring down at her.
She smirked. “All right, let’s go up.”
The tiger sauntered up toward her enemies as if she were taking a leisurely stroll along a mountain path. There was no fear or hesitation in her steps, but she could see the slightest trace of trepidation in the berserk bears’ eyes.
“This is why you bear bastards are hopeless,” she said. “Who cares if you’re smart? You talk a big game because there’re so many of you, but you’re just a bunch of cowards.”
The tiger felt the breeze by her side, rippling the wide sleeves of her white martial arts uniform as she returned to the sky.
Similar scenes played out throughout the area. All the tigers roamed the heavens, showing the bears the might of those who ruled the mountains.
Rosalyn lifted her lashes, revealing eyes streaked with veins of red. She had safely delivered the clear winds to the tigers.
Boom, boom, boom.
Those bloodshot eyes of hers were fixed in one direction.She stared at the other side of the canyon, where the winged bears who had yet to take off had changed course. Instead of following their comrades into the sky, they were now advancing toward the center of Brek’s forces—toward her.
Thrummm.
Rosalyn looked past the three hundred or so bears running her way, focusing on the round launchers. As a glow enveloped them, her ears picked up a mechanical screech. Dwarves with wings had joined with the enemy mages to protect the devices.
A fresh smile curved Rosalyn’s lips.
Boom!
Another rumble rolled through the ground as scores of bears charged at her, bypassing the Tiger Tribe and the crows to wipe out the mages.
Stretching out her hands before her, Rosalyn shouted, “Three!”
A groan rose from the earth beneath her feet. Another group of mages, standing in a circle around a top-grade magic stone, extended their hands as Rosalyn had. The mage brigade’s robes fluttered; they sensed the fluctuation of mana in the air.
Rosalyn was preparing magic that would pulverize the bears’ wings. She would plunge half those bastards flying over the canyon to their deaths.
Just half!
“Two!”
She also needed to make sure the spell didn’t affect the tigers. Rosalyn turned her head, and her eyes met Gashan’s.
Cawing, the crows began clearing the way. They created one path at a time for the offensive spells to travel through, until four gaps appeared in total: three for the mage brigades and one for Rosalyn. The mages set their sights on the bears crossing the gorge.
We need to hit the bears first, then either attack those launchers or hold them in place.
Rosalyn planned to fire off multiple large-scale offensive spells in a row despite the potential strain on her body. Since she had so many top-grade magic stones at her disposal, she needed to seize this opportunity to neutralize the bombing devices, even if doing so placed a heavy burden on her. If she couldn’t make them stop, her only other option was to detonate them on the enemy side of the canyon.
She bit down on her lip. With how big they are, it’ll be a problem even if they do go off over there. The shock waves from the blasts would reach Brek’s position as well. Still, that was preferable to letting them explode on their side.
The attack would commence as soon as the word one left her lips. She opened her mouth, sucked in a breath, and prepared to say it.
“Miss Rosalyn.”
Stalled by Cale’s interjection, she whirled his way—only to see people springing into action behind him.
One woman darted up into the sky, her ocean-blue hair streaming out behind her. Her long water whip sliced through the air. Thwack!
“Huh?”
“Look out! It’s the Whale Tribe!”
The bears frantically dodged the whip, but it wasn’t aiming for them. Instead, it struck at the other side of Death Canyon like a lightning bolt.
Baaaaang! A deafening crash rang out. Then a section of the opposing cliff collapsed, revealing the water whip in its place. The whip withdrew, curling around Witira’s arm, and she used its momentum to land on the other side.
The future Whale Queen was the first to set foot in enemy territory. She brandished her whip once again and split it in her hands. With a hiss, the weapon easily divided into two, then lashed out in all directions.
After watching this play out, Rosalyn slowly made to finish her countdown.
Before she could, the Bear Tribe’s voices echoed across the gorge. “Damn it! This half, chase the whale! The rest of you, follow the plan! Hurry up!”
The bears’ vanguard picked up speed as they flew toward Brek’s forces. The sight of hundreds of wings darting at them like arrows made their hearts sink with dread.
“Miss Rosalyn, wait.”
Rosalyn still couldn’t give the final order. She looked at Cale, who continued to stop her.
The bears were within ten meters of Brek’s line. As Brek’s troops shrank back in fear, the eyes of everyone from Rowoon shot toward a single person.
Cale Henituse had a silver thread extending from his hand.
Booooom!
That instant, an earsplitting blast shook both sides of Death Canyon. A silver shield had appeared, slamming into the bears.
Baaaaang! Bang! Baaaaang!
“Urgh!” Blood dripped from Cale’s mouth as his shield repeatedly clashed with the bears’ wings.
Rosalyn watched in horror as Cale activated his Ancient Power. “Lord Cale, you don’t even have Raon!” she protested. Rosalyn knew about Raon’s shield—its power always layered protectively over Cale’s. “I just need to fend off the bears with an offensive spell, then find a way to stop those launchers! Since we have the whales and tigers with us, it should be doable!”
Then Rosalyn noticed the smile on Cale’s face. His forehead creased in pain, but he looked more exasperated than anything.
“I’ll keep this short, Miss Rosalyn.”Cale coughed, and more black blood seeped from his lips, distracting from his worsening complexion. “The whales won’t block the launchers. Neither will the tigers.”
“What?” They wouldn’t? Did that mean they weren’t going to stop the magic bombs?
“While you and half the mage brigade attack the launchers,” Cale said, “the other half will cast shields and prepare to run.”
During their discussion, the bears smashed unceasingly into the silver shield. The mages awaited Rosalyn’s order to attack.
“But the bombs will go off! That’s dozens of bombs exploding at once!” Seeing the easy assurance in Cale’s eyes, Rosalyn rushed on, “If that happens, they’ll get their bridge for sure! The enemy soldiers will use the rubble as stepping stones to cross over. There’re so many of them—we’ll have a lot of casualties!”
“The enemy won’t be able to cross.”
“Sorry…?”
After confirming that Lark and Raon were still behind him, Cale hacked up another mouthful of blood. He felt much better.
If Raon were awake, he would’ve said, “Human, why are you smiling like that?”
Ignoring the pang in his chest, Cale opened his mouth to speak. “The Dragon’s Rage will flare into the sky.”
Rosalyn gasped. She’d completely forgotten what Cale had directed the tigers to plant in the gorge earlier that year.
The so-called “Dragon’s Rage” was a fiery pillar that would scorch the heavens—a tower of flame several tiers higher than the one concocted by the Alchemist’s Bell Tower. The blazing columns that the ancient dragon Erhaven had created lay dormant beneath Death Canyon.
When the canyon was shaken, that rage would swallow the enemy whole.
Cale’s smile was etched into Rosalyn’s vision. “From here on out, we’ll lead the enemy into our trap.”
In contrast to his confident expression, Cale’s mind was working faster than ever before.Raon was out of commission, and Cale always planned for the worst-case scenario.
We have to hurry.
He glanced down at the communication sphere in his hand. It was still connected to the crown prince; Albert should have overheard Cale’s conversation with Rosalyn.
“Your Highness,” Cale began.
A burst of laughter came from the device, and Albert looked at Cale from the other side of the screen.
Their enemies, the Flame Dwarves, sought to destroy one of the Five Wonders. They were trying to demolish Death Canyon—a gorge that cut through a substantial section of the Western Continent. Normally, anyone would think that they were the crazy ones here.
But they’ve got nothing on the madman who installed a pillar of fire in the canyon, Albert thought.
Now that Albert had experienced Cale’s audacity, the enemy’s impudence couldn’t faze him anymore. Still, he understood where Cale was coming from.Cale was the kind of person who would lay waste to Death Canyon himself before he’d let the enemy do it—and there was someone else who shared that mindset.
Yes, this bastard has always been crazy…and I’m no better.
Albert didn’t need to hear any more from Cale. There was a particular card that Rowoon—or more specifically, Albert himself—could play once the pillar of fire activated. The outcome was already set in stone.
“I’ll make sure it’s ready and wait for your signal,” Albert said without further delay. “And would you stop bleeding every time you take the field? You’re rich. Use some potions or something.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Watching the pair banter, Rosalyn opened and closed her mouth a few times, but she couldn’t get any words out. Was the crown prince always like this? Also, the two of them were far too relaxed. Was it because this battle wasn’t taking place in Rowoon?
No. Rosalyn knew she couldn’t entertain such thoughts. Cale had bled more than anyone thus far.
Baaaaang! Bang! Baaaaang! The winged bears kept up their battery of the shield.
“Ah, jeez.” Cale summoned even thicker strands of silver light from his hand, scrubbing more blood from his mouth each time. Even without Raon’s magic supporting it, the shield held steady.
“Looks like I don’t need to eat any more yet.”
“Are you trying to sacrifice yourself?”
Cale listened to the disappointed glutton and the one-note stone guardian before arranging his features in a deliberate expression of strain. When he spoke, however, his voice retained its unflappable tone. “Please hurry, Miss Rosalyn. Activate your magic as soon as I give you the signal.”
Rosalyn finally found her voice. “All right.”
She looked over at one of the knights waiting nearby. Seeing her eyes on him, he rushed over to meet her. Cale listened as she rattled off an order to the knight, then added a few commands of his own, his face a portrait of suffering.
That drew a chuckle out of Rosalyn. Even in the middle of a battle, she could still find it in herself to laugh. “You’re trying to make me use everything I have,” she said, shooting Cale a mischievous look.
“Give me your best, Rosalyn.”
Rosalyn canceled the offensive spell that was ready to go in her hands, reaching instead toward the pouch filled with top-grade magic stones.
She had been obsessed with magic ever since she was a little girl, when she’d seen the royal mage casting some spells. Soon after, she’d realized that she had a talent for magecraft. She could feel mana even when she was simply standing still.
Betting everything on that feeling, she spent her days embroiled in lessons in governance and devoted her nights to the study of magic, forgoing sleep. At last, her skill with spells enabled her to earn her freedom, and that freedom led to a miraculous encounter: her meeting with the dragons, Raon and Erhaven.
Rosalyn had absorbed each of Erhaven’s lessons to Raon, observing the way the dragons wielded their magic. Their spells exceeded the limits of human mages. And though Rosalyn was human, she longed to break past that threshold herself.
I’m a very greedy person. Rosalyn was well acquainted with the extent of her own avarice. After all… I want to surpass the limits of my humanity.
Now that she’d had a taste of that miraculous power, she aspired to reach the same level before she died. After escaping the bonds of royalty, she’d found a grandiose goal worth pursuing for the rest of her life.
“Give me your best, Rosalyn.” When Cale said that, he’d called her by name and name alone—his way of respecting her choice to abandon her royal blood.
Rosalyn decided to honor the words of the only person who’d recognized her ambition.
My current skills aren’t even enough to match up to Raon’s paws, to say nothing of Lord Erhaven. But one didn’t always need to follow a conventional path to advance and grow stronger.
The clattering of magic stones knocking against each other came from inside the bag. Then Rosalyn withdrew her hand, plucking out one after another. Once she’d gathered a hefty handful, she turned around to face the mage brigade.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said.
Cale acknowledged Rosalyn’s statement with a nod and glanced at the battlefront.
Lark piped up, “L-Lord Cale—”
“Stay behind me.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
The wolf boy gnawed on his lip, his gaze darting from Rosalyn’s bloodshot eyes and unfamiliar atmosphere to the bloodied Cale, then to the sick Raon in his arms. Thump! Thump! Thump! His heart beat harder and faster, spurred by his fear and anxiety about the battle.
Given Lark’s height, the shorter Cale couldn’t block his view; he could see the bears crashing into Cale’s shield, as well as the tigers and Choi Han in the sky. They seemed to be in a dangerous situation.
“Stop paying attention to pointless things and focus on your job,” Cale said.
Lark’s shoulders twitched. My job… His task was to carry Raon and stay behind Cale. Lark held Raon a little tighter, not letting his eyes stray from Cale’s back.Even in the midst of the deafening battle, he could hear his heart thudding in his ears.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
He was slowly beginning to understand. Something stirred deep inside him—a feeling that rose bit by bit from the core of his being. A new emotion, different from his dread and worry, bubbled up as if to devour his wildly beating heart.
As Lark watched Cale’s back, his eyes turned red.
Unaware of the change in Lark, Cale channeled more power into his shield. His expression was twisted in a grimace, and he didn’t seem to be faring well.
“Heh heh heh! Yes, keep blocking us like that!” the bears cackled, ruthlessly ramming into the silvery barrier. Since their goal was to buy time anyway, they were actually thankful that Cale had used his shield; it helped them drag things out. “Your face looks hilarious!”
The bears could see Cale’s neck and the collar of his uniform growing wet with his blood, while his face was etched with a resolute frown.
Unbeknownst to them, Cale was merely putting on an act. Even neglecting to wipe away the blood was a choice on his part. He was in a much better state now than he had been during the battle for Henituse territory, when he’d bled from every orifice.
While they’d fallen for his theatrics, the hundreds of bears in the sky weren’t entirely complacent.
“It’s not breaking easily.”
The shield was sturdy. Even when hundreds of winged bear warriors slammed into it at once, it only shuddered for a moment. It evoked the image of a castle wall that refused to buckle no matter what.
Will it block the bombs too? Unlikely though it seemed, the fact that Cale had defeated the half-blood dragon made the bears from Arm think about “what-ifs.” Some felt a prickle of unease.
Cale himself obviously had no intention of doing his best castle wall impression, or even keeping this up for a long stretch. He was just going to stall the enemy until he reached his limit, then hightail it out of there. But the bears, in their ignorance, thought that Cale might hang on until the bitter end. Some raised their voices to bellow orders at their subordinates.
“Make sure to hold off the whales no matter what!”
Boom! Boom! The airborne bears dropped back to the ground, joining the Flame Dwarves and the knights to stand in the way of three individuals.
This trio was, naturally, the three whales.
It was difficult for bears to defeat whales; they were no match for the seafaring beastfolk in terms of weight or strength. Compared to the wavering knights and soldiers of the Indomitable Alliance, however, the bears seemed relaxed—and it didn’t take long before their shouts revealed the reason for their nonchalance.
“We’re not afraid of whales that can’t go berserk!”
Bears lived on land, but whales dwelled in the sea. That fact made all the difference in preventing the whales from going berserk. They needed water to transform. The meager amount of liquid a mage could produce wouldn’t do; they required quantities massive enough to fuel a tsunami.
The whales were undeniably strong, even when they couldn’t go berserk. But though the bears felt some trepidation, they didn’t succumb to despair.
Then the killer whale, Archie, burst out laughing. “Ha ha ha!”
He slammed his fists together. Bam! The sound of his bare knuckles colliding was chilling.
Archie swept his gaze over the legions of dwarves, bears, and knights blocking his path. “Being underestimated by a stupid bear sure does suck.”
He had a reputation among the whales for his disagreeable nature. Leaning on one foot with a scowl, he said, “You hopeless idiots.”
His remarks concluded, he sprang into action.
Ksssh.
Archie charged the enemy line at a rapid pace—but someone else was moving even faster. Shooting a glance at the water whip brushing past him, Archie sighed. Some people claimed he had a bad personality, but in his opinion, the royal humpback whales were even worse.
Baaaaaang! Every stretch of land the twin whips touched ended up in ruins, as if a swordmaster’s aura had sliced through the area. The Indomitable Alliance’s knights fell back, stunned, while the mages activated shields in front of the magic-bomb launchers.
“Defend them no matter what it takes! Just three more minutes!” one of the dwarves bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Thrummm.
The launchers glowed with a powerful light, steam rising from the large devices. Both of the hulking receptacles were pointed at the same spot on Brek’s side of the canyon—or more specifically, the shield defending their position.
Three minutes. It was a short window of time, yet it was also an eternity.
Hissss. A sizzling sound reached the ears of the alliance knights. They looked toward the water whips to find them seized by the bears.
“Ugh!”
Whales boasted the greatest divine power among the beastfolk. The berserk bears clinging to the future Whale Queen’s weapon of choice felt as if a blade was biting into their palms, but they didn’t let go. Panting and growling, the bears held on to Witira’s whips for dear life.
Out of nowhere, someone appeared between them. More precisely, someone crashed down from overhead. The bears immediately released the whips and scurried out of the way.
Boooooooom!
With a strike of Archie’s fist, the ground shattered like a glass window. Faseton used that opening to attack the bears with his sword.
“Two minutes!” The Flame Dwarf shouting the countdown watched with terrified eyes as Witira sprinted straight toward him.
Bang, bang!
When the dwarf looked up, he caught sight of the black-haired swordmaster soaring freely through the air with the help of the crows, slaughtering bear after bear. The black aura he wielded ripped the bears’ wings to shreds.
“Gah ha ha ha ha!” Though the tigers bore gashes from the bears’ claws, they laughed away as they rushed their opponents, unconcerned with the blood staining their white uniforms. Without fail, they tore off the wings of the bears they snatched, sending them hurtling into the gorge.
The Flame Dwarf bit his lip. The enemy forces truly were formidable—they had too many strong fighters on their side. Yet even so, these tactics were only effective for brief skirmishes; for longer conflicts, victory came from greater numbers. That being the case, the Indomitable Alliance just needed to draw out the battle for as long as possible.
They had to destroy Death Canyon.
The Flame Dwarf raised his voice again. “One more minute!”
At his warning, the knights fell back, joining the more inexperienced mages in a retreat even as the whales charged them. In the knights’ place, the winged bears threw everything they had into impeding the whales. By the force of their numbers, they barely managed to hold the trio at bay.
The dwarves put on their own wings and took to the air.
“Thirty seconds!”
With half a minute remaining, the timekeeping dwarf prepared to ascend, gaze fixed on the other side of the canyon. He could see Cale narrowly fending the bears off with his shield.
Cale Henituse was the number one name on the Indomitable Alliance’s hit list. He had already repelled the bears for five minutes—a shocking feat in itself—but it would be nigh impossible for him to defend against these bombs. Death Canyon was much larger than Castle Leona; Cale’s shield wasn’t broad enough to cover the entire gorge. The Indomitable Alliance needed only to smite one spot, and the enemy would fall.
“Ten!” the dwarf called out, operating his wings.
Thrummm. He felt the launcher shudder under his feet. A blistering heat as potent as his blacksmithing forge crawled up his legs. As he counted down, the flame dwarf saw Cale’s lips move.
“Block it!” Cale shouted in his loudest voice yet. “Activate the defensive magic circles!”
The dwarf scoffed. The two launchers were aimed at Cale’s shield.
“Three!”
The bears engaging the whales leapt from the ground. As one of them lifted off, he jeered, “Looks like you’re not so great when you can’t go berserk!”
“Two!”
One second to detonation.
The ascending bear who had mocked the whales caught them smirking, and he recoiled. “What the…?”
He watched Witira’s mouth shape three words: “Not good enough.”
Not good enough? For what?
The whales sprang into the air. They moved with haste, stepping on crows and making use of Gashan’s wind to climb high into the sky. The tigers and Choi Han also darted upward at ever-increasing speed.
As one, the legions of crows began to rise. They went higher and higher without looking back. The Flame Dwarf leading the countdown from atop the launcher kicked off into the air.
“One!”
Screeeech… Boom! The two large weapons changed direction. Rather than aiming at the shield, they pointed underneath it, targeting the cliff wall that supported Brek’s forces.
The dwarf and the middle-tier mages near the launchers all soared into the sky. A noise droned from the launchers as they belched out extreme heat. Finally, light erupted from both devices.
“Destroy it! Destroy it!” the dwarves chanted, their gazes rapt on the launchers.
Myriad beams of white light burst from the giant weapons, spewing the countless magic bombs out toward the cliff.
“Bwa ha ha! A bridge will form no matter how much you try to stop it!”
The explosions would knock the cliffs into the gorge! The Indomitable Alliance’s soldiers were already far away, out of the bombs’ range.
Just as the Flame Dwarf cheered the sight of the manifold beams…
Swoosh. The silver shield dissipated.
Wiping the blood from his mouth, Cale uttered a single word: “Attack.”
The Sound of the Wind roared around Cale’s feet. As Lark lurched into motion, chasing after Cale, he heard the ground rumbling.
Another droning sound rattled Brek’s troops. They could see the host of white streaks shooting down, carrying the magic bombs toward their target.
One woman reached out her hand toward the lights. Behind her, mages from two of the brigades lay their hands on a magic circle, formed from several dozen top-grade magic stones.
Standing at the center of the array, Rosalyn ignored the blood dripping from the corner of her lips. A smile appeared on her face.
“Fire, blaze forth!”
Whoosh!
A massive jet of flame shot out from the magic circle, surging forward in a fiery blast that looked as if the sun itself had descended.
It was headed straight for the beams of white light.
“What the…?”
“Are they out of their minds?! Why are they attacking?!”
“It’ll be destroyed!”
While the dwarves and the bears cried out, they noticed their opponents rushing past them and into the skies. Choi Han, the tigers, and the whales continued their ascent, climbing ever higher along with the crows and the wind as if their survival depended on it.
“Just what are they?” Gripped by terror, the dwarves looked down.
The white light and the inferno collided.
Boooooooom!
A colossal crash reverberated to the ends of Death Canyon like a death knell.
“Ha ha ha ha! What do you think, Lord Cale?” Even with blood dribbling from her mouth, Rosalyn laughed freely as she looked at Cale, who was running with her in his arms. Increasing the Sound of the Wind’s output, Cale pointed behind him. Rosalyn raised her head to see what was going on.
A tremendous explosion filled her eyes—a mixture of white light and crimson flames. Then she felt the ground shudder.
Death Canyon was going to be destroyed; that was unavoidable. But something emerged from underground and swallowed up the lights.
The moment he reached the safe zone, Cale came to a stop and turned around.
In the place where the flashes of white and crimson had vanished—where the cliff walls were crumbling—a fire roared up from deep beneath Death Canyon.
Cale recalled a conversation between the ancient dragon, Erhaven, and the young dragon, Raon.
“What color should we make it? Hey, youngster, what color do you like?”
“You mean for the fire?”
“Yep. I’m greater than those alchemists, so it’s child’s play for me to alter the color of the flame however I choose. The natural properties of fire won’t change just because we tweaked the hue.”
“Then…make it the mighty black, Goldie! It’s mighty because it’s my color!”
“Nah, I’m not feeling it… I’m just gonna do whatever I want, youngster.”
Baaaaang! Baaaaang! Baaaaang! Orbs filled with liquid fire exploded one by one. A towering inferno engulfed the white and red lights, deep-blue flames spouting into the sky as if to consume the very heavens.
In an instant, a firestorm the color of Raon’s eyes dominated the gorge. It looked for all the world like death had arrived to claim the canyon that shared its name.
Cale laughed exuberantly. “Ha ha ha!”
Dragon’s Rage.
The battle had only just begun.
