Since ancient times, countless dialects had existed across the vast lands of the Central Plains. Because of its immense territory, those dialects had
developed independently of one another, and for that reason, even people of the same Central Plains were not always able
to communicate with one another. If a man from Yunnan in the south were to meet a man from Shanxi, far off to the northwest,
it would be all but impossible for the two to converse.
Dokkoseong’s hometown, Yangzhou, was also on the outskirts when viewed from the Central Plains, so if he were to meet someone
from the western regions, it would not be easy to communicate perfectly. And yet this foreigner was speaking his hometown
dialect, and very fluently at that... If he had closed his eyes, he might have mistaken him for someone from home,
so for Dokkoseong it was truly enough to make a ghost wail. He stammered as he asked again.
“Wh-who are you? How does a colored-eyed foreigner like you know the Yangzhou dialect?”
“Ah! You mean this language.”
Schreckheimer let out an ambiguous smile. He did not particularly dislike seeing a master from another world, who had displayed such terrifying power,
be astonished by the magic of his own continent.
“Please do not be surprised. I am able to converse with you by using magic.”
“M-magic?”
“I am currently speaking to you in the common tongue of the continent of Truvenia. The thing that allows you
to understand this language is precisely the power of magic.”
“Tru-what?”
“The continent of Truvenia. The land on which you are standing now is the continent of Truvenia.
While you were unconscious, we were able to arrive here safely.”
A trace of pride surfaced in Schreckheimer’s answer. That was how much he loved
the continent of Truvenia, where he had been born. In particular, Schreckheimer was deeply
satisfied by the fact that he had splendidly succeeded in that most difficult feat, dimensional travel, completed his mission,
and become the only priest to have succeeded in a journey between dimensions.
However, the explanation coming from Schreckheimer’s mouth was not something Dokkoseong could readily accept.
Although Dokkoseong was a sorcerer well-versed in occult arts, the two of them had, from the very beginning,
lived in entirely different worlds. At Schreckheimer’s incomprehensible words,
Dokkoseong’s expression grew colder and colder.
“Don’t play your petty tricks. I don’t know what you’re trying to deceive me into believing, but I am not one to fall for it.
I will ask you once more. Tell me in detail where this place is.”
“Did I not already tell you? This place is the continent of Truvenia.”
“Whether it is Truven or dog shit is none of my concern. If you cannot reveal its identity, I will find out myself.
Move aside.”
Dokkoseong was addressing Schreckheimer without the slightest restraint. First of all, it was a habit ingrained in him
from his days as an absolute ruler, and it was also something he did deliberately because he could not clearly discern
the other party’s true identity. Sensing that the other man flinched at his shout, Dokkoseong inwardly
rejoiced and tried to raise himself. But his body, far from normal, refused utterly
to obey him.
“Uuugh.”
After struggling for a long while to sit up, Dokkoseong was ultimately forced to give up. His body
was still in a state of miserable ruin. Watching him, Schreckheimer cautiously
opened his mouth.
“You will not be able to move your body yet. Although your external injuries have been healed to some extent
with potions and healing, internally you are already in a state of severe damage.”
“Shut up, you wretch! What do you know?”
Inwardly embarrassed, Dokkoseong shouted as if trying to put on a show of bravado. At Dokkoseong’s reaction,
Schreckheimer stepped back as though there was nothing to be done.
“It seems your spirits are unsettled. Then I shall withdraw for today, so please rest well, and I will
see you tomorrow.”
Without hesitation, Schreckheimer turned away. Although he was in a position where he had to beg for help,
he had originally been a high-ranking clergyman, and being spoken down to in this manner
was not at all pleasing to Schreckheimer. As Schreckheimer opened the door and left, Dokkoseong
stared after his back with a gaze full of suspicion.
“What on earth is that fellow scheming?”
But his thoughts did not continue for long. Because his weakened body was as feeble as it could be,
sleep surged over him like a tide, and Dokkoseong fell into a deep slumber where he lay. Inside the splendidly decorated
room, the sudden sound of snoring rang out loudly.
“Will he truly grant our wish?”
As he walked out through the broad hall, Schreckheimer muttered as if talking to himself. The soldiers lined up in the corridor
bowed respectfully, but he merely walked on as though he had lost his mind.
The dimensional transfer had succeeded. Schreckheimer and the rest of the delegation had been able to take the nameless warrior
from another world and return safely to their homeland, Truvenia. But the delegation that returned
was theirs alone. Those who had gone to other time periods had all failed to come back.
Schreckheimer’s party, having accomplished their mission, was warmly welcomed by the kings of each nation. They held
a sliver of hope in the fact that he had invited a hero who might save their
continent from crisis. That was how desperate the situation on the continent of Truvenia had become. Whenever one woke from sleep,
without fail, another kingdom had vanished. Although it was uncertain whether the warrior from another world whom they had brought
would provide a solution, Schreckheimer had no choice but to place a single strand of hope in him.
“If things go on like this, our continent will surely have no choice but to walk the road to destruction.
Unless, no matter what happens, we retrieve the Oath Stone.”
Muttering like a madman, Schreckheimer recalled the events of the time when the most important treasure of humanity
had been stolen. Perhaps it was because he had witnessed the scene with his own eyes that Schreckheimer felt
an even greater sense of responsibility.
At the time, the continent of Truvenia had just overcome the tragedy of the Bloody Moon, humanity’s second crisis.
It was also a period when the authority of the Order of Verhazel had weakened to an unimaginable degree
because of two wars. At the time, Schreckheimer was an experienced priest who had participated in both wars,
and he held the important post of educating the trainees of the Order of Verhazel.
Moreover, he was a priest of the main order located in the Icarot Empire, the strongest nation on the continent of Truvenia.
Education that raised the clergy of the future could not be overemphasized,
and so, in those days, he, a high-ranking clergyman, was personally in charge of instruction.
As Schreckheimer reminisced about that time, he gradually sank back into the situation then.
“As you know, on the continent of Truvenia, many demi-human races live in addition to humans.
From the perspective of the various demi-human races living here, the existence known as humanity is an extremely unreasonable
race. Is that not so?”
Before Schreckheimer, some twenty or thirty young trainees were listening to him with bright, shining eyes.
They were the young talents who would shoulder the future of the order.
At Schreckheimer’s rhetorical question, the trainees kept silent. After looking over them for a moment,
Schreckheimer smiled and continued the discussion.
“Humans possess a lifespan absurdly short compared to elves. Can humans possibly match
the lifespan of those who live nearly a thousand years? I believe it is impossible.”
Because it was only reasonable, the trainees slowly nodded.
“In terms of skill, humans cannot keep up with dwarves. No, it would be more accurate
to say that we cannot even be compared to them. All of you know this fact well. Even the greatest
blacksmith among us humans cannot possibly create the equipment made by dwarves. And the same is true in terms of strength.
Humans are beings whose strength is so weak that they cannot even be compared to low-intelligence monsters such as ogres
and trolls. Although our physical endurance is somewhat better than that of orcs,
in terms of reproductive ability and speed of growth, humans fall far short of orcs. Such weak beings
are what humans are.”
Schreckheimer paused for a moment and looked around.
“During the wars of conquest, humanity’s principal enemy was the orc race. Unlike elves, who lived in dense forests,
or dwarves, who resided in mountainous regions, orcs were a race that possessed territory
comparable to that of humans. Therefore, the situation inevitably had to move gradually toward all-out war between the two races,
did it not? At first, the course of the war developed in favor of the orcs, who were superior in strength and population.
It was difficult for humans to overcome the orc race, who were stronger than humans
and born hunters by nature. But ironically, the situation proceeded in the exact opposite direction.
Humans had initially been thought certain to be eliminated and disappear. Yet despite many unfavorable
conditions, humans adorned countless wars with victory and were able to conquer most of the other demi-human races
living on the continent of Truvenia.”
Schreckheimer paused briefly and looked over the faces of the trainees.
“Does anyone know how humans achieved a great victory against the mighty orc race
and drove them beyond the Pelusia Mountains?”
At his question, one trainee raised his hand.
“Yes, I will answer.”
After taking a moment to steady his breathing, the trainee began to set forth his opinion at length.
“Until now, no investigation has revealed why humans came to stand in such a superior position.
Ordinary people vaguely think it was thanks to Lord Verhazel’s blessing. But my
thoughts are somewhat different. I believe it is because humans possess wisdom.
The wisdom to pass the experiences of the previous generation down to the next. Thanks to that, we humans
were able to overcome our short lifespans. Also, when compared to other races, beginning with the orcs,
we humans possess astonishingly diverse relationships with one another. Because of those human relationships,
each soldier is able to stake his life on the battlefield. To protect his family, or
to protect his lover...”
As he listened to the trainee’s explanation, Schreckheimer grew increasingly emotional. The trainee’s opinion now—
this was the sort of thing that could not have been uttered thirty years ago, during the time of religious strife.
If it had been back then, it would immediately have been deemed an impure thought, the speaker would have been brought to trial,
and in the worst case, it was the sort of statement that could have led to being burned at the stake even without trial.
The trainee’s assertion just now was not particularly different from that of the unbelievers at that time.
It was the very cause of the religious conflict said to be Truvenia’s worst tragedy. However, the once-august authority
of the Order of Verhazel no longer existed now. And such remarks, too,
had long since ceased to be a crime.
“Times truly have changed greatly.”
Schreckheimer silently looked back on the situation of those days. Events so numerous that it was hard to believe
they had occurred in the span of merely a hundred years. The truly desperate War of Darkness
that followed the religious conflict.
A short while later, once the trainee’s presentation had ended, Schreckheimer quietly began to tell
the students about the situation at that time. Today’s subject was history, and among the people living in the present,
half belonged to a generation that had not experienced those days...
“I will now begin the lesson.”
Beginning his lecture, Schreckheimer recalled the time of the Dark War, the second disaster that had befallen humanity,
and unfolded his story. He possessed something like a sense of mission: to transmit the experiences of the previous generation
to the young trainees.
“Skeleton soldiers, their rotten flesh dangling as they swung rusted swords. Nameless demonic creatures from the Demon Realm
boasting appearances in all shapes and colors, and countless golems and Death Knights.
Dark Shades. Against this dreadful army of darkness, the soldiers truly fought
with their lives on the line. Do you know why?”
Schreckheimer looked around at the breathless trainees and thrust out his chest. One trainee immediately
responded to him. It was the same trainee who had voiced his opinion earlier.
“That was the manifestation of a spirit of sacrifice, to save their families by means of their own deaths.
They sacrificed themselves so that their families would not suffer a miserable death.”
A slight look of disappointment crossed Schreckheimer’s face, for he had, without quite realizing it, expected the answer
“Lord Verhazel’s protection.” However, he was not too disheartened. Still,
it was a tremendous relief to him that no one had answered that the reinforcements from the continent of Arcadia
had played the greatest role in their victory. Because of the religious conflict, even now, in every kingdom,
it remained taboo to so much as mention the name Arcadia. But the era when the entire populace
were devout believers of the Order of Verhazel had now passed. And the catalyst for that was
Ironically, it was because of the war against the Dark Legion, known as the tragedy of Bloody Moon.
'At this rate, no one can say what will become of the Order in a hundred years or so.'
As he shook his head, Shreckheimer caught sight of the trainees’ sparkling eyes. Deciding that he ought to
end the lesson, Shreckheimer was about to reach toward the bell. Just then, a thunderous roar
rang out.
Kwa-kwaang.
The classroom where they were holding the lesson shook violently. Shreckheimer, who had been standing awkwardly, nearly
tumbled backward in an unsightly heap. Barely managing to steady himself, Shreckheimer’s eyes flew wide.
"W-what on earth."
This place was the main headquarters of the Berhazel Order, located in the heart of the Kingdom of Ikarotte. Such
a roar and tremor could not happen, and should not happen.
"Class ends here. Dismissed."
Snapping back to his senses, Shreckheimer barked at the students and hurried toward the door. However,
before he could even arrive, the door was smashed to pieces with a deafening crash.
Kwa-kwaang.
And what revealed itself there was... Shreckheimer’s eyes widened in astonishment.
"O-Orcs?"
Dozens of monsters carrying axes drenched completely in blood had rushed into the classroom.
They had glossy green skin and short, squat bodies no more than about 1.5 meters tall, but judging by
the bulging muscles each of them possessed, it was obvious at a glance that they were warriors.
Clad in crude and rough, yet sturdy-looking armor, their bloodshot red eyes gleamed.
They were orcs.
The orc hordes, known to have been shattered after the First Racial War and to have hidden away in
the Fellusia Mountains, had suddenly appeared here. And not just anywhere, but in the main headquarters of
the Berhazel Order, located in the Kingdom of Ikarotte. For Shreckheimer, something utterly unimaginable
had occurred. The orcs’ purpose was soon made clear. Slaughter. They began swinging
their axes without mercy.
"Aaaagh!"
With a heartrending scream, the trainees who had been standing there blankly collapsed on the spot. From the wounds
split open by the axes, sprays of blood gushed forth. At that sound, Shreckheimer snapped
back to his senses. A fierce incantation burst from his mouth almost reflexively.
"Blindness"
The orcs, who had just been mowing down the ashen-faced trainees, suddenly began floundering as if they had gone blind,
letting out roars. Even at a glance, it was clear they were panicking. Shreckheimer’s effort to keep the orcs from
harming any more trainees had succeeded. Now it was time
to put these things down.
"Burning Hands"
A dazzling radiance burst from Shreckheimer’s two hands. Burning Hands was a spell that heated the area around the hands with magic and then
used that heat to deliver a powerful blow to the opponent. Thinking that with this he could easily
incapacitate the orcs, Shreckheimer quickly approached the blinded orcs.