Rumble. Boom.
A single bolt of lightning pierced the sky choked with dark clouds. The sea, briefly illuminated
by the flash, presented a spectacle rarely seen. Had the wrath of Poseidon (the Sea God)
been visited upon them…….
Fierce winds howled, creating countless enormous waves. The enraged waves
combed through every inch of the sea. To devour sacrifices and quell their fury.
Consequently, innumerable sailors had to be consigned to the depths…….
Despite sinking an enormous number of ships, the sea still raged as if unsatisfied. But prey
no longer took the bait so easily. Whales and serpents had hidden deep within the ocean,
and fish too refused to rise to the surface.
Only a few unfortunate sea creatures were dashed against reefs and crushed; the main targets,
Arcadia's ships, had already fled to places beyond the waves' reach. Having already
been sunk or firmly moored in port.
But the waves refused to leave even the moored ships alone, crashing against them again
and again. As if intent on destroying everything touched by human hands. When several
anchored ships broke apart, humans pulled their vessels entirely onto land. As if attempting
to resist nature's fury head-on.
The storm's aftermath reached the continent of Truvania as well. But Truvania, in contrast,
suffered little damage. Because the orcs, a race that despised water, did not possess a single
ship. Of course, the humans struggling to survive as their slaves had no ships
either.
Nevertheless, the savage waves seeking sacrifices struck even the western coast
of the continent of Truvania in succession. It was identical to five hundred years ago, when
the Race War took place on a grand scale.
However, countless shadows revealed themselves at a spot slightly removed from the coast. While their silhouettes were identical to humans, their short stature and broad, stocky builds gave an inexplicable sense of alienness;
they were a race. Their bluish skin glistened wet in the rain, and their yellow pupils were chilling enough to remind one of a snake's eyes.
Bulging muscles writhed upon their broad shoulders, and they gripped weapons with edges sharp enough to draw blood tightly in their fists.
They were orcs, the race that had ascended as the new rulers of Truvania five hundred years ago. Countless orc warriors were positioned
not far from the shore.
The gathered orc warriors were all heavily armed. Crude but well-fitted
armor. Shields banded with iron around wood. Horned helms and sharply bladed glaives proved they had been crafted by the hands of human
slaves.
Living up to their moniker as the Race of Battle, the orc warriors waited flawlessly prepared for enemies that might cross over.
The place they were stationed was Merka City (市), once one of the famed port cities. Once renowned as a maritime trade city said to have amassed astronomical wealth, Merka now,
after five hundred years, had only grotesque ruins remaining, barely reminding one that this place had once been a city.
The buildings lining the main road were mostly collapsed. Untouched by human
hands, the residences were so destroyed and collapsed as to be indistinguishable from the roads. The orc
warriors were stationed between buildings, in places where the rain did not strike. Seeing how firmly they had settled in,
it seemed they intended to stay here for quite some time.
They were troops conscripted from each tribe by the order of the Red Dragon Berkis to carry out coastal defense.
Their mission was to annihilate Arcadia's punitive army should it land by any chance.
A gloomy voice suddenly echoed through the wind and rain. From its bizarrely low
tone, it was clearly the voice of something that could not be human.
"With this, all footholds where the Arcadian humans might land have been occupied. They shall never set
foot in Truvania."
The owner of the voice was none other than Gedenhaide. Having sortied on an assault against the Keurosen Empire and lost his main body at Deimon's hands, he had revived and was now
commanding the orc defense army.
Gedenhaide, who had been silently watching the storm, shook his head.
"Looking at the situation, there is little cause for concern. There is almost no chance the punitive fleet could break through such a fierce storm. Only a madman would launch ships
in this tempest."
Gedenhaide's eyes suddenly gleamed.
"Even if they target a gap by some chance, there is nothing to worry about. I have positioned a great army of nearly a million on the coast; the humans will be slaughtered en masse before they can even attempt a landing."
Preparations were perfectly complete. The million-strong coastal defense army would blockade the beach without a gap until the dragons all awoke. As Gedenhaide surveyed the formation, a strange light rose
in his pupils.
"To be defeated twice by someone like Deimon……."
He shuddered at the mere thought. Despite being a so-called 9th-Circle Expert, to be annihilated without even putting up proper resistance……. As the thought occurred to him, fear toward Deimon welled up within him unbidden. Generally, undead could not feel emotions.
But Liches and Death Knights were slightly different from ordinary undead. Especially Liches could feel emotions almost on par with humans in several respects. Anger, hatred, and
fear were precisely those.
Deimon had once been nothing more than a fledgling who at best ranked at the 3rd Circle, yet now he had far surpassed him. The only emotion Gedenhaide felt toward that detestable existence,
Deimon, was fear.
As if trying to shake off the encroaching fear, Gedenhaide shook his head.
"He will be thoroughly handled by Lord Berkis. I need only carry out my orders. Controlling these uncivilized orcs to form a coastal defense line is no different from eating cold porridge
for me……."
This was precisely why Berkis had hastily resurrected Gedenhaide. Gedenhaide, who had once been human, possessed the ability to effectively command the astronomical forces needed for a coastal blockade. In particular, he had once served as a staff officer for the Dark
Army.
Orcs were generally called the Race of Battle and were courageous. But they were not without
weaknesses. Because their thinking was simple, while they could charge wildly and destroy everything in their path, their greatest weakness was their inability to employ tactics that required brains, like flanking maneuvers.
That weakness had been proven several times in the two Race Wars as well. There had been innumerable cases where, despite holding overwhelming numerical superiority, they were entangled in the effective operations of human armies and entire units were annihilated without
resistance.
Simply put, orcs were a race that could fight battles but were inadequate at waging war.
Berkis had dispatched Gedenhaide to solve that problem. Gedenhaide, who had once been human, possessed the intellect to effectively command the great orc
army.
After resurrecting Gedenhaide, Berkis had given a single order. Namely, to command the conscripted orc divisions and blockade the coast bordering
Arcadia.
"I trust you. You must not allow even a single soldier of Arcadia's punitive army to set foot in Truvania."
"I shall keep that in mind."
Since Gedenhaide had once served as a staff officer for the Dark Army, Berkis entered slumber without the slightest worry. And Gedenhaide headed for the eastern coast with five liches under his command to carry out the blockade operation.
By Berkis's command, large-scale conscription orders had already been issued to each orc tribe in Truvania. Gedenhaide led a great orc army numbering five hundred thousand and began a boldly imposing march. Reinforcements supported by each tribe slowly gathered on the western coast, so the coastal defense forces had long since surpassed a million.
But it was not without problems. The biggest problem he had to solve was logistics. The food consumed by a million-strong orc army in a single day was truly enormous.
The food sent alongside troops from each tribe could not last even a month.
Yet they could not vacate their positions when Arcadia's punitive army might swarm in at any time, so Gedenhaide had to establish some countermeasures.
"I shall have no choice but to imitate the humans."
Gedenhaide used his past experience to organize a large-scale supply corps. It was a unit that sought out races affluent enough to keep humans as slaves, scraping together food and sending it to the eastern coast.
Gedenhaide attached a large escort comprised solely of elites to the supply corps.
This was to ruthlessly suppress any tribe that might rebel. Gedenhaide knew well that force was essential in dealing with the orc race. If the large supply corps returned, the logistical situation would improve noticeably.
Gedenhaide's prediction was correct. Thanks to the food the supply corps had scraped together, preparations for long-term stationing were completed before long. At this rate, they would be able to maintain the defensive line sufficiently until the dragons awoke.
Once the organization was somewhat complete, Gedenhaide gave a certain order to the commander leading the escort. It was an order to suppress organized rebellions by human slaves at an early stage.
The possibility that Arcadian knights might infiltrate and incite human slaves to rebel was high.
Hadn't innumerable Arcadians already come and gone from Truvania? Though the sea was blockaded, Gedenhaide did not intend to overlook even faint possibilities.
"There may be some who succeeded in spatial movement by any chance. It is better to prevent causes of confusion beforehand."
If the human slaves rebelled in the current situation, it would be no small matter.
The supply route would be cut off. To solve that problem, Gedenhaide ordered that not a single slave who made contact with infiltrators from Arcadia be spared.
"Execute a few to serve as examples, then bring the rest in to use as rations. It would be better to bring them alive to maintain freshness."
It was an order that considered both preventing confusion in the rear and securing provisions. The orc officers who received the order set off in high spirits. They had gained an opportunity to taste human flesh, which was rarely available.
"Now it is done."
All that remained for Gedenhaide, who had completed every preparation, was to wait for Arcadia's punitive army. But Gedenhaide was convinced. That there would not be a single Arcadian fleet that could break through such a fierce storm and land.
The raging sea. Not a single seabird could be seen above the storm-swept waters.
Because even seagulls familiar with the sea could not fly if caught in gale winds or if their feathers got wet. Thus the birds were holed up deep in their nests to avoid the storm. But there were a few fearless flying beasts(?) soaring above the sea despite the storm…….
Rumble. Boom.
Lightning bolts struck everywhere along with the strong winds, but the flying beasts glided leisurely through the sky without a care. Surprisingly, they were not living creatures. Undead monsters with bodies consisting of nothing but stark bones, similar to dragons.
Those flapping wings riddled with holes were none other than Bone Dragons.
The magical creatures called Bone Dragons, made from the corpses of dead dragons, were flying above the rough sea.
It was a harsh environment in which birds dared not fly, but the Bone Dragons glided leisurely above the sea. Having no feathers to get wet and able to beat their wings with tremendous force, they seemed to have no trouble flying between the gale winds.
Leading the front was a relatively small Bone Dragon. It was a large figure of roughly thirty meters from head to tail, but it looked relatively small because the Bone Dragon following behind was so enormous.
The Bone Dragon following behind was truly gigantic.
Its length seemed to far exceed fifty meters, and the constant beating of its wings was tremendously powerful. Its dark-hued body allowed one to infer that it had been a Black Dragon in life.
Another white silhouette was flying close behind it. Astonishingly, it was a living dragon. Its white body, clearly distinct from silver, showed that it was a White Dragon that inhabited lands of extreme cold.
On the back of the largest Bone Dragon in the center, several people were huddled together. They were drenched by the rain, gripping tightly to the thick ropes connected to the Bone Dragon’s body so they would not be blown away. Every one of their faces was twisted with strain. There were seven in all, and among them, one man stood out as suffering especially badly.
“Well, now. To think I would ride a Bone Dragon while still alive…”
The man gripping the rope tightly with a grimace was a handsome knight who looked to be in his mid-thirties. From his well-trained physique, angular face, and firmly set mouth, one could guess that he possessed a strong will.
His name was Cransia. As the eldest son of Duke Ferstein, a man of unprecedented power, he was accompanying the Kassim Mercenary Corps to carry out an important mission.
Duke Ferstein had raised his children by applying, exactly as it was, the way a lion raised its cubs. Because of that, Cransia had been forced to pass through a far from easy upbringing. Having lived and trained harshly alongside other knights, he was confident that he would not so much as twitch an eyebrow at most hardships.
But the circumstances now were a little different. It was so arduous that his endurance had nearly reached its limit.
“This truly is an incredible ordeal.”
A bone-chilling cold surged up from the part of him pressed against the Bone Dragon, and because of the rain and wind constantly lashing at him, he could not even open his eyes properly. The fierce wind mercilessly stole body heat from his soaked body, so Cransia had to keep circulating his mana.
If he did not, he would be utterly unable to maintain his body temperature. While desperately supporting his body as it was continuously shoved by the gale, Cransia looked around. The others were in the same situation, but unlike him, they did not seem to be struggling quite so much. At the sight, Cransia clicked his tongue in admiration.
“They’re remarkable people.”
Aboard the giant Bone Dragon he rode were the captain of the Kassim Mercenary Corps, the swordsmanship instructor, and the other members. Seeing them all support themselves with their eyes squeezed shut, it seemed they had experienced this sort of thing many times before. When Cransia spotted the two new knights who had joined the Duke Knights not long ago, his face brightened.
“I would like to exchange a few words with them.”
But that was nothing more than a wish. In a gale like this, even shouting would not be heard properly. Feeling his body freezing, Cransia hurriedly circulated his mana.
“They said it would take ten days, so there is still a long way to go. I wonder whether I can endure it.”
However, the people riding on Zicrate at the head were in a somewhat different situation from those riding on Russellant. Damon, Shrekheimer, and Juliana were aboard Zicrate, and unlike Russellant, Zicrate had a shield installed to block the wind and rain.
Damon had deliberately crammed all of the swordsmen onto Russellant. Using physical training as an excuse, he had not cast any sort of protective barrier for them, which was why the swordsmen exposed to the rain and wind were suffering like this. They were crossing over to Truvenia in order to carry out a certain mission. Their objective was to make it possible for the great army gathered in Arcadia to cross the sea.
Damon was frowning as he stared out at the storm-tossed sea.
“This truly is an incredible tempest. No wonder no ships survive it.”
Shrekheimer, who was sitting beside him, quietly nodded.
“Indeed. If caught directly in it, I doubt even a single ship could survive. But is this truly the right way? I cannot make out the direction at all.”
“The direction is correct. I have already crossed once before.”
“Then how did you cross the sea, Lord Damon?”
Damon smiled faintly and explained the general circumstances. When Shrekheimer heard that Damon had crossed by beguiling a King Serpent, he showed surprise.
“You truly are remarkable. I had thought of nothing but a Phantom Steed…”
“Seeing as nothing dared approach it, I realized the King Serpent truly was the sovereign of the sea.”
As Damon continued speaking, he suddenly scowled and shouted.
“Where do you think you’re touching? Get your hand off me.”
Juliana, who had been sitting close behind him, was for some reason feeling around Damon’s chest. Though he shouted at her again and again, she showed no sign of withdrawing her hand. Juliana was not the sort to back down meekly just because someone barked at her.
“Why are you yelling? I grabbed it because there’s nothing else to hold on to.”
“You can hold on to the floor, can’t you?”
“I don’t want to. It’s cold. Why would I hold that when there’s something better? Can’t I hold on a little?”
Damon’s eyebrows shot up in a sharp inverted V.
“You damned girl… I’ll just throw you into the sea.”
“Do you think that will scare me?”
Damon glared at Juliana, who was absorbed in talking back without the slightest concern, then let out a long sigh. No matter how he thought about it, there was no way to deal with Juliana. If anything had been a mistake, it was putting her on Zicrate because he feared she would whine.
“Forget it.”
Damon shook his head and turned away. Encouraged by that, Juliana went so far as to wrap her arms around Damon’s waist. Damon sprang up as if he had been struck by lightning.
“I’ve let this go on long enough…”
With furious eyes, Damon looked back and forth between Juliana and the stormy sea below. He looked ready to throw her in if she pushed him any further. Watching this, Shrekheimer politely intervened.
“Please stop. More importantly, what was it you wished to say to me?”
Because he had changed the subject at just the right time, Damon’s attention shifted to Shrekheimer. After shooting Juliana one sharp glare, Damon turned his head toward Shrekheimer.
“Come to think of it, I did have something to say to you.”
Damon glanced at Juliana, whose face was pressed against his back, then silently rearranged his mana. The conversation they were about to have was not something others should hear.
“Sleep.”
After gently laying Juliana down once she had fallen asleep, Damon turned his head.
“She really is a headache… Had I known it would be like this, I would never have accepted her into the mercenary corps.”
“From what I can see, Lord Damon seems to enjoy her pranks.”
“Let’s stop there. I simply cannot speak in front of you.”
Damon waved his hand, then abruptly became serious.
“High Priest, do you perhaps still remember the dimensional transfer magic you used when you brought me here?”
“I do.”
At Shrekheimer’s answer, Damon’s face brightened.
“When everything is over, can you take me back to the place where I lived?”
“It seems you miss your homeland.”
Damon silently shook his head.
“No. It is simply because there is someone I must take revenge on. After I deal with him, I will return here. At least to me, this place is more familiar than the Central Plains.”
“…”
“I can prepare whatever is needed. There is no need to worry about a Dragon Heart… And I discovered several of Emperor Crosen’s belongings in his memorial hall, along with an astonishing secret.”
A strange light appeared in Shrekheimer’s eyes.
“An astonishing secret?”
“Have you ever thought about Emperor Crosen’s true identity?”
At Damon’s words, Shrekheimer shook his head. Unlike Damon, Emperor Crosen had appeared in Truvenia alone. It was as if he had fallen from the sky overnight. Whether known or not, there was probably no one except the man himself who knew Emperor Crosen’s true identity.
Damon quietly told him the truth about Emperor Crosen.
“When you saved me, among the pursuers there was a man named Linghu Ming. That very man was Emperor Crosen.”
As Damon’s explanation continued, Shrekheimer was startled.
“Someone who entered after following Lord Damon fell into the past and became Emperor Crosen… I simply cannot believe it. If that is true, then it means we used his belongings to bring their owner here, does it not? By common sense, such a thing…”
“But it is true. In the memorial hall, I read writing that he had left behind himself. He did not know the reason either.”
“Astonishing. Dimensional transfer magic is a field with more unknowns than knowns, but to think even such a thing could happen… If what you say is true, does that mean Lord Damon’s abilities were greater than Emperor Crosen’s?”
Damon shook his head with a dark expression.
“That would have been possible when I was in the Central Plains. Back then, I was confident I could defeat him… But during the process of dimensional transfer, he grew astonishingly powerful. I do not know whether you are aware of it, High Priest, but a martial artist who has reached a certain level can achieve tremendous growth through a simple enlightenment alone. If he truly reached the Profound Realm, then even if I died and came back to life, I could not defeat him.”
Shrekheimer kept shaking his head as if he could not understand.
“As far as I know, if one does not properly follow the procedure for dimensional transfer, the body is simply disintegrated. For example, when we went to retrieve Lord Damon, a total of six teams departed, but ours was the only team to return. At the time, we assumed the others had been unable to endure the pressure of dimensional transfer and had been annihilated.”
“It was precisely because of that pressure that he was able to grow stronger. In the process of enduring it, he became at least ten times stronger.”
“This is truly beyond understanding.”
Damon silently shook his head. What mattered to him now was not uncovering Emperor Crosen’s identity.
“While living in the memorial hall, one question arose in my mind.”
“What was it?”
Damon looked up at the dark sky. Rain was pouring down in torrents, but blocked by the shield, it merely streamed uselessly away. Watching the falling droplets, Damon quietly continued speaking.
“Reaching the Profound Realm is by no means an easy thing. It is the realm of the half-immortal, one that far surpasses the so-called limits of humanity. As far as I know, a martial artist who reaches the Profound Realm can possess a lifespan of several hundred years. Yet Emperor Crosen, who reached such a realm, passed away at merely eighty-one years of age. What do you think, High Priest? Do you not think it impossible?”
A strange light flickered in Shrekheimer’s eye sockets.
“Are you conjecturing that the Great Emperor is still alive?”
“It seems that way to me. I think he returned to the Central Plains.”
“…”
“In any case, he had accomplished all his goals. He developed the continent of Arcadia and built a vast empire, so there could hardly have been anything more for him to wish for. Moreover, at eighty, it would be the time when the close aides who had fought beside him began to leave this world one by one. The wife who had spent half a lifetime with him would have been the same, would she not? Furthermore, unlike me, his roots lay in the Central Plains. In other words, he had a sect that he led there. I cannot know for certain, but I believe he feigned his death and returned to the Central Plains.”
Shrekheimer nodded as if in agreement.
“If it was Emperor Crosen, it would certainly have been possible. For someone like him, obtaining a high-ranking mage and a Dragon Heart would not have been difficult. Perhaps mages who took part in the dimensional transfer operation like I did crossed over to Arcadia and aided Emperor Crosen…”
Damon nodded silently.
“If everything is prepared, can you go to the Central Plains once more?”
Shrekheimer raised a bony finger and pointed to his head.
“I cannot guarantee it, but I believe I can make the attempt. All the formulas for dimensional transfer are inside my head.”
“I ask this of you. Though it will be after we successfully conclude the racial war, of course.”
“Understood. In any case, I am bound to Lord Damon. How could I refuse?”
A strange light flashed across Shrekheimer’s face. It was a light that could very much be taken for a smile.
“If Lord Damon were to hold my Life Force Vessel and threaten me, would I not have no choice but to obey?”
"Do not worry. I do not know where your Life Force Vessel is, either. I ordered a Death
Knight to bury it deep within Incresia, you see."
Damon, who had been smiling as he shook his head, looked ahead. Schrekheimer, who had been
supporting Juliana so she would not be blown away, turned his head.
"At any rate, with the wind this strong, I am worried whether the men are safe."
"They will be fine. That Katroi fellow is following behind and looking after anyone who falls... The fool.
He could have simply ridden comfortably on Russelant, yet he insists on needless stubbornness and
brings hardship on himself..."
"Still, I truly did not expect Lord Katroi to accompany us. He said he would not involve himself in the
fight with the dragon, but I never imagined he would follow us all the way to Trubenia."
A wicked smile appeared on Damon’s face.
"Even if he does not wish to be involved, he will have to be. No doubt Berkis is grinding his teeth at
him. If he does not wish to die, he will have to fight alongside us, will he not?"
"You brought him along knowing that?"
"He volunteered for it. In any case, I wonder how much that fellow will be able to study humans.
There are things about humans that are fine to learn, and things that must not be learned..."
"If he travels with the Kasim Mercenary Corps, I imagine he will learn only the good sides of humanity...
Things like comradeship and loyalty."
Damon gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
"That is wrong. The fellow is rather unlucky. Of all humans, he had to meet an unparalleled
villain like me and suffer for it..."
"........."
While Schrekheimer quietly kept his silence, the two Bone Dragons and one White
Dragon were flying over the dark sea, cutting through the fierce wind.
The ordeal of the men riding on Russelant was resolved more easily than expected. Katroi, sick and tired
of flying through the storm, had finally decided to ride on Russelant.
"Damn it... To think that a dragon, a member of the great race, must entrust his body
to a cursed pile of bones like this..."
He grumbled, but when told they would have to fly for nearly ten more days, Katroi
landed on Russelant’s back without another word.
Thanks to that, the mercenaries were the ones who became comfortable. Katroi, who could be considered
a cut above Damon in the field of magic, spread a very sturdy barrier over Russelant’s back.
Because of that, Crancia, who had nearly reached a state of collapse, was able to recover his strength.
"Whew. Now I feel like I can live."
Freed from the lashing rain and wind, the men now felt a serious hunger. They had used
every ounce of strength they possessed to keep themselves from being blown away. Noticing this, Heinrich
unfastened his pack and took out food.
Since they could not start a fire atop the Bone Dragon, most of the rations they had prepared were
dry provisions such as dried meat. After handing a lump of food to Gerald, Heinrich
approached Crancia.
"Would you like some?"
"Thank you."
As he happened to be hungry, Crancia accepted the dried meat without refusal. Watching
Crancia chew on the dry provisions, Heinrich gave him a polite bow.
"I have not had the chance to formally introduce myself. Squad Leader Crancia. I am Heinrich,
a member of Lord Fadian’s squad."
Even in the midst of eating with abandon, Crancia smiled faintly.
"Good to meet you. I have heard that you possess remarkable swordsmanship."
"You praise me too highly. I was merely lucky..."
"No. There is only one way to become one of the Duke Knights, and that is skill. Luck without
the strength to back it up is not enough."
At Crancia’s words, Heinrich’s face reddened. Even a squad leader of the Duke Knights,
who possessed the tremendous background of being the son of Duke Perstein, acknowledged him.
Looking at the shy new knight, Crancia felt his mood improve somewhat. Considering that they would be
operating in Trubenia, a land teeming with enemies, the presence of comrades from the same knight order
could not help but be a comfort.
"I have never hunted a dragon before. So I think you will have to give me a great deal of advice."
"There is not much advice I can give you. The role of confronting the dragon is handled thoroughly by Damon and
the Death Knights. Perhaps Instructor Mitchel, who is a Sword Master, may join in as well."
"Is that so?"
Crancia nodded silently. Then someone approached him. A man with a sturdy, imposing build.
It was Kasim, the captain of the mercenary corps. As if he had just finished eating, Kasim held out his hand
with bits of meat still clinging to the corners of his mouth. He and Crancia had become acquainted on the way from
Leytona, but they had never had a conversation.
"We were in such a hurry to depart that my greeting is late. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"Not at all... I look forward to working with you."
With a smiling face, Crancia took Kasim’s hand and shook it. They had already been flying for nearly a day,
but there had been no time to exchange greetings. The members of the Kasim Mercenary Corps who had been dispatched to
the various kingdoms had been summoned to the imperial palace’s rear garden as soon as they returned, and then
they had mounted the waiting Bone Dragons and taken off.
For that reason, there had been no chance to reunite with their comrades. When Kasim finished his greeting,
Mitchel held out his hand next.
"Good to meet you. I heard you are the son of His Highness Duke Perstein."
"From now on, I am a member of the Kasim Mercenary Corps. I am lacking in many ways, so I hope you will help me."
Seeing Crancia grin, Mitchel felt an inexplicable sense of closeness to him. Though he was the son of
Duke Perstein, a rare and powerful man, Crancia was more unpretentious than expected.
In other words, the arrogance often seen in young masters of high noble houses was nowhere to be found,
no matter how hard one looked. After finishing his greeting with Mitchel, Crancia approached the remaining mercenaries and
asked to greet them first.
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
"W-what are you saying..."
Patterson and Jackson received his greeting in a fluster. They had never imagined that the son of
a figure as important as Crancia would ask to greet them first. After finishing his greetings, Crancia’s gaze reached Gerald.
"So you are the knight who raised the honor of the Duke Knights to its height in Tezeros. It is a pleasure
to meet you."
"You flatter me..."
Crancia patted the embarrassed Gerald on the shoulder, then looked at Kasim.
"By the way, Captain Kasim."
"Yes? Yes."
When Crancia casually called him captain, Kasim answered with a bewildered expression.
"Do you perhaps know what mission we are to carry out in Trubenia?"
"I wonder? I have not been given any word either. Lord Damon said he would tell us after we arrived.
I suspect it is for the sake of maintaining secrecy."
"Is that so?"
Crancia kept tilting his head. Though the mighty Bone Dragons and Death Knights
had been mobilized, he could not begin to guess what sort of mission they would carry out with this number of people.
The mercenaries seemed very curious about that as well. Jackson, a man of few words, cautiously
offered his opinion.
"Could it be a mission to assassinate a sleeping dragon?"
Before Jackson had even finished speaking, Kasim shook his head.
"Did Lord Damon not tell us before that such a thing was impossible? It does not seem to be
that mission."
"Then perhaps he intends to liberate the Trubenian people who have become slaves of the orc race and make them
rise in rebellion?"
Surprisingly, it was Crancia who answered Patterson’s subsequent opinion.
"I do not think that is it. I have already crossed over to Trubenia twice before.
In the process, I saw several Trubenians."
Crancia’s face suddenly hardened.
"They have been completely tamed by the orcs. They have become slaves of the orc race down to the bone.
In my opinion, persuading them to rise in rebellion would be fundamentally impossible."
"S-such a thing..."
The mercenaries were startled. Humans tamed into slaves of the orcs. They could not imagine
what such a sight would be like. Patterson asked back as if he found it absurd.
"I do not understand. Rather than live such a life, would it not be better to die...?"
"Their way of thinking is very different from ours. Even when the villagers are taken away by orcs,
they feel no anger at all. They merely think it fortunate that they themselves were not taken.
And then they quickly forget the memory of those who died. That is the way they live."
At Crancia’s words, chills ran down the mercenaries’ spines. If what Crancia said was true, the people of Trubenia
were human only in appearance; they were no different from the orcs’ livestock. Most important of all was
the fact that, depending on the course of the coming Third Race War, the people of Arcadia could become
the same. Shuddering, Kasim barely managed to force out a single sentence.
"We must lead this war to victory, no matter what. If we are to prevent our descendants from falling
into such a state."
"Of course we must win."
As if agreeing with Crancia’s words, the mercenaries all nodded at once.
The tedious ten-day flight finally came to an end. When land appeared in the distance, the mercenaries
all burst into cheers. After seeing nothing but the raging sea, the land they had encountered after so long
could not have been more welcome.
"Land!"
"How long has it been since we saw land? I truly respect sailors who spend over a month
at sea."
Crancia smiled faintly as he looked at the mercenaries, who were in high spirits.
"When we came by ship, we did not see land for nearly a hundred days. Compared to that, we have arrived very
quickly."
Of course, had they taken a ship, they would not have been able to approach Trubenia at all. The raging storm
had continued for nearly ten days, and even the greatest of vessels would not have lasted a day before capsizing.
During their journey on the Bone Dragons, they had hardly ever seen the sea calm.
The mercenaries gazed with curious expressions at Trubenia, the continent long forgotten.
"So that is Trubenia, the paradise of monsters?"
"They say it is swarming with orcs, which cannot be seen in Arcadia?"
As they craned their necks to look, the continent of Trubenia drew closer and closer. Then, from ahead,
a strange cry rang out. It was coming from the direction in which Zicrate was flying.
Shwaaaaak.
Realizing that it was the sound of Magic Missiles, Damon’s trademark, flying through the air,
Kasim’s expression hardened.
"An enemy has appeared?"
In the direction the Magic Missiles were flying, objects that looked like birds were floating in the sky. Focusing mana into his eyes,
Kasim was soon able to discern their identity.
"They are wyverns. But how did Damon see them first?"
As Kasim watched, the cluster of Magic Missiles was approaching the wyverns.
As soon as the continent of Trubenia came into view, Damon deployed detection magic. Since they had entered enemy territory,
he had to be thorough in his vigilance. Because of that, he was the first to discover the appearance of the wyverns.
Most likely, the wyverns were lackeys of the dragon assigned to reconnaissance. As soon as he discovered the enemy,
the Magic Missiles he had cast flew out reflexively.
When a cluster of Magic Missiles suddenly came flying at them, the wyverns evaded with all their might. Through the wild instincts
unique to monsters, they had sensed an instinctive danger. However, the speed of the pursuing Magic Missiles
was several times faster than the wyverns. The cluster of Magic Missiles, made of densely compressed air,
ruthlessly dug into the bodies of three wyverns.
Kerrrk!
Cries of pain burst out, but not a single wyvern fell. Because their hides were so tough, they had taken
the impact, but it was not enough to make them plummet. Unfortunately, however, the Magic Missiles were not
the main attack. The Energy Bolts fired with a time delay mercilessly pierced through
the torsos of two wyverns.
Papapak.
The wyverns had no time even to scream before they spilled a spray of blood and fell downward. One wyvern that had
survived by luck flapped its wings desperately and fled. The Energy Bolt had grazed past its torso by a hair.
Seeing that, Damon clicked his tongue.
"I missed. I have not trained all this time because I was restoring the Bone Dragons..."
"I will take that one."
Schrekheimer, who was beside him, formed hand seals. Mana rearranged itself, and a single streak of lightning
split the sky. Since it was of the lightning system, its flying speed was tremendous.
Pzzzzzt.
Lightning Burst. Struck by a powerful offensive spell whose destructive force far surpassed that of Lightning Bolt,
the wyvern lost consciousness on the spot and began to plummet. Smoke
curled up from its blackened hide. Even Shrekheimer seemed surprised by its unexpected power.
“Remarkable power. As expected, nothing can match the dark magic school when it comes to offensive strength.”
“What is truly remarkable is you. To think you can already wield the mana of darkness so skillfully.”
Shrekheimer shook his head as if embarrassed.
“You flatter me. But where do you plan to go?”
“We’ll proceed as planned. First, don’t you think we need to throw them into some confusion?”
“You mean a diversionary operation. Understood. I’ll look for a nearby slave village.”
The Bone Dragons that arrived in Truvenia did not land. Instead, they flew at low altitude along the mountain ridges, beginning to search for something.