Episode 73. Vinsbruk Citadel
“What do you mean by that, Veritas?”
Binareil demanded an explanation from the old book.
“What do you mean it’s because of you that I haven’t been able to hear Eden’s voice all this time? You knew?”
-Ugh, what a hassle.
Veritas replied in a nonchalant voice, as if it were no big deal.
“Did you do it on purpose?”
Veritas floated into the air and stood facing Eden.
Eden glared at Veritas with her hands on her hips, her expression still sullen.
The fellow opened his pages with a flourish and spoke.
-This is a matter of occupation.
“Occupation?”
-Yes. I already explained that as your mana grew, the influence I could exert over you decreased?
That was something Veritas had explained in the corridor.
-It’s simple. Before, I occupied your mind entirely, so there was no room for another voice to slip in.
In Hohenberg, Jineulbaram had found Binareil’s condition strange.
He could see spirits and convey his will to them, yet he could not hear the spirits’ voices.
Jineulbaram had suspected that someone was blocking Binareil’s ears.
And yet that suspicion had been true.
“You knew but never explained it to me?”
-You never asked.
Even though it had plainly seen Binareil struggling to communicate with Eden, it had never revealed the truth.
Inside Binareil’s heart, distrust toward Veritas deepened by another layer.
“So as your influence over me decreased, I became able to hear Eden’s voice?”
It was similar to Veritas and Eden fighting for supremacy with Binareil’s mind between them.
You could call it a sort of tug-of-war.
“But….”
Binareil looked back at the earthy-hued spirit and thought.
“Eden, how did you do that earlier?”
[What do you mean, Binareil?]
“How did you block the Lich’s attack earlier?”
The dense mana field surrounding the Lich had reduced all of Binareil’s magic to nothing.
Just seeing that was enough to know the Lich was a being of considerable mana.
But when Eden exerted her power, all of the Lich’s magic was canceled in an instant.
As if he had lost control over mana itself.
Eden tilted her head, recalling the situation.
[I don’t really know either. Reacting to your desperate heart, I just went like, stop! No! Like that.]
Eden waved her tiny hands around, doing her best to explain in her own way.
It was not very helpful, though.
“Eden, there was something I wanted to ask. What kind of spirit are you?”
The world’s classifications of spirits were varied.
But broadly speaking, spirits were classified by attributes derived from nature.
Like spirits of flame, spirits of earth.
Just as Hohenberg’s spirit, Zilph, was a wind spirit.
All this time, Binareil had thought Eden was an earth spirit, but as time passed, his thoughts had gradually changed.
[I don’t know either.]
“You don’t know?”
[I’m just me, Binareil!]
It was an endlessly lively and confident answer.
-Foolish thing. A spirit that doesn’t even recognize what kind of being it is.
Veritas did not miss the opportunity to take a jab at Eden.
[What!]
“Then do you know?”
-That spirit possesses a special power.
“A special power?”
-The power to resonate with her contractor’s mind. That is why she has the ability to reject any power that you, Binareil, consider negative.
Binareil’s eyes followed the cheerful figure of Eden.
“Because I considered the Lich’s mana negative, Eden was able to reject it?”
Veritas answered in a nonchalant tone.
But the content was by no means light.
-Not just the Lich. As long as you consider dark mages’ power to be negative, the spirit’s power can reject all of it.
Binareil lightly broke out in goosebumps.
Rotpalren.
Balam had awakened in a place called the Red Hill Cemetery.
The Red Hill Cemetery was where hundreds of corpses from past battles were buried.
A place called the underground cemetery, the Catatomb.
“Hup!”
The awakened Balam blasted mana at the weathered skulls and jars strewn around him.
The skulls filling one side of the cemetery chamber could not withstand the mana and shattered into pieces.
Not satisfied with that, he rampantly wielded mana and collapsed several chambers of the underground cemetery.
Only then did Balam barely calm down and look at his own hands.
“My mana has returned.”
Losing control over mana was that terrifying to him.
Balam felt shivers run across his gaunt skin.
He got up to check his Life Vessel.
The walls of the underground cemetery were made of red clay.
Some said the blood spilled in Rotpalren had soaked the ground, turning the earth red.
Deep inside the underground cemetery, an eerie red aura surged from a sword that emitted ominous mana.
The reason Rotpalren had become the “Red Land” was entirely because of that sword.
-Sacrifices! More sacrifices!
Balam gazed blankly at his Life Vessel, the demonic sword that bound his soul.
The sword stuck in the ground had a corpse impaled upon its tip.
It was Balam’s lost body.
The demonic sword was the Life Vessel that had granted Balam eternal life, while simultaneously being the shackle that bound his soul.
-Offer me more living humans. Obey me, who granted you eternal life!
Balam could not refuse the demonic sword’s command.
-Not much remains.
The demonic sword was sacrificing the people of the territory, gathering their vitality.
Human vitality became nourishment for the demonic sword, and with the gained mana, it could raise an even greater undead army.
-Annihilate the accursed humans!
Repeating the demonic sword’s command, Balam turned.
He left the underground cemetery once more.
To find sacrifices for the demonic sword.
The ducal forces roughly wrapped up matters at Paguin Castle and set out again.
Since the lord of Paguin Castle had died, it would now become a castle under a different name.
A leader capable of looking after the residents and securing order was needed, so the Duke left a few trusted knights at the castle and departed.
And finally.
“Your Grace! The castle is in sight!”
Those riding along the highway arrived at Vins, where the ducal castle was located.
“Beron!”
“Take some soldiers and enter first. Let them know I have arrived.”
“Understood!”
Knight Beoron took the vanguard and rode ahead.
Duke Dukseu spurred his horse and approached Binareil’s side as he spoke.
“Sir Binareil, allow me to introduce you. This is my castle. Vinsbruk Citadel!”
Binareil exclaimed, craning his head back endlessly.
A citadel with a majestic presence rivaling the imperial palace of Essen, the empire’s capital, gradually revealed itself.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?”
Hearing Binareil’s admiration, Vivian spoke to him with pride.
“It’s a sight to behold.”
Vinsbruk Citadel possessed a different kind of presence from Essen’s imperial palace.
If Essen’s imperial palace had an antique feel, containing the empire’s history as it was, then Vinsbruk Citadel could be said to exude a sturdiness that would not flinch even if a great army swarmed it.
Seeing Binareil gaping in awe, the Duke and his subordinate soldiers smiled.
It was a reaction that made racing day after day without rest since leaving Essen to introduce their hometown worthwhile.
Upon entering the citadel, the residents of Vinsbruk and the Duke’s soldiers came out to welcome the ducal forces.
The ducal forces safely entered amid the people’s hospitality.
“Mother!”
The Duchess of Dukseu came out to the courtyard to greet her husband and daughter.
Vivian dismounted and ran into the Duchess’s embrace.
It was the complete opposite of the timid demeanor she had shown at the royal capital’s banquet.
The Duchess was a great beauty. She looked at least ten years younger than the Duke’s age.
To the point where one might suspect the Duke had obtained his wife through intimidation.
After exchanging brief reunion greetings with Duke Dukseu, the Duchess pointed at Binareil and asked the Duke.
“Who is this?”
“Sir Binareil Dalhaim, a guest from the capital and a mage.”
“A mage?”
The Duchess looked at Binareil with an intrigued expression and offered her greetings.
“Welcome to Vinsbruk, Sir Binareil. My name is Melina.”
“Thank you, Duchess Melina.”
Upon entering the inner keep, the Duke’s army was lined up.
“Salute His Grace!”
Chuk! Chuk!
One could gauge their military discipline from the orderly draw of blades and salute motions without a single misalignment.
Soldiers gathered endlessly.
Truly, the southern hegemon—the Duke’s claim that he had led a hundred soldiers merely to fetch his daughter—was no empty boast.
Binareil spotted unusual figures here and there among the lined-up ducal forces.
‘Demi-humans?’
Seeing Binareil’s gaze lingering on the demi-human soldiers, the Duke urged him on.
‘He is a mage from Elfenbain, yet he still hasn’t shed his discriminatory gaze.’
Persecution of demi-humans was indeed severe in the empire, but that did not mean they were free from discriminatory gazes in other nations.
However, Duke Dukseu had interacted with countless demi-humans since his days as a soldier in the north.
Duke Dukseu considered each and every one of them a friend and comrade.
But he held his tongue. He had no desire to quarrel with Binareil over careless words on the day of his return.
“Let us go in quickly.”
A banquet to welcome the Duke’s return was prepared.
The Duke provided food and drink to the soldiers who had journeyed with him, then headed to the banquet hall.
“Bring beer!”
There were about a dozen attendees at the banquet.
The Duke’s family, Binareil, and his close knights.
Soon, a massive oak barrel as tall as a person was brought in.
Duke Dukseu filled his mug to the brim and drank heartily.
“To His Majesty, the new Emperor!”
“Cheers!”
It felt like watching a pelican.
“Hm? Why is the beer so lukewarm?”
The one who had carried the beer barrel approached and prostrated himself before the Duke.
“My apologies, Your Grace! The brewery was halted while you were away….”
Duke Dukseu’s fierce gaze shot toward the brewmaster.
“You there, at once…!”
Binareil, who had been gauging the Duke’s expression, cut in.
“Does it simply need to be cold?”
“Hm? Yes, indeed.”
“Hand it here.”
Binareil received the mug from the Duke and chanted a freezing spell with reduced power.
“Freeze, but not too much.”
Crack, crunch—
The people watched as frost quickly formed on the large beer mug before their eyes.
“Ooh!”
The Duchess exclaimed in surprise at the wondrous sight.
“It is ready now.”
The Duke’s eyes sparkled as he drank the beer he received back.
“Hm!”
At his gesture, the brewmaster withdrew with a grateful expression.
“Sir Binareil. Have you considered working as my castle’s brewmaster?”
“…Of all things, a brewmaster?”
The frozen atmosphere at the table thawed like melting snow.
The heavily intoxicated Duke excitedly began to recount the stories of his experiences in the capital.
The Duchess chimed in appropriately by his side.
As the story ripened and reached the part about suppressing the rebellious nobles….
“When I burst into the audience chamber!”
“You burst in?”
“The nobles were frozen stiff, unable to move, and just stared at me! Those foolish faces!”
The Duchess skillfully played the part of his conversational partner.
Without dampening his enthusiasm, she interjected at just the right moments without breaking the flow.
“Father, you should tell it properly.”
“The nobles couldn’t move then not because of you, Father.”
Vivian interrupted the Duke’s tale, raising her finger.
The eyes of those gathered at the dinner table turned toward one person.
“It was thanks to Sir Binareil.”