Chapter 217

216. Annoying Swarm of Mosquitoes (1)

The Great Wilderness, now called the Karadis Plains, is currently ruled by four major factions. Given the vastness of the land, conflicts between these groups aren’t overly pronounced, but the plains remain as dangerous as they were during the wasteland era—a ticking time bomb.

In the southern region, the Lavirata Dynasty. The Legion of Wraiths, maintaining a long and tense frontline against the Federation of Nobles, continues to expand its influence.

In the northern region, Apotazar. The Legion of Wraiths, which joined the Empire as an ally through an agreement with the Emperor during the height of the 50-Year War.

The Federation of Beastmen Nobles, Karadis, which claims sovereignty over the plains, with scattered tribes of beastmen spread across the land.

And finally, the opposing Chieftains’ Alliance. A rebel force led by Cherad Blondtail. They rose up to condemn the long-absent Chieftain and the elder council, which had fallen into conservatism, and to protect the rights of the beastmen who were still openly traded as slaves.

During Kirhas’s reign, rebellions had occurred more than once, but never on such a massive scale as this. It was the first time since the era of division that such a large group had joined the rebellion.

Suppression? At this point, it’s no longer about suppressing the rebels—it’s a full-scale war. About one-third of all tribes have joined the rebellion, with the remaining few declaring neutrality.

The Federation of Nobles was never suited for a centralized system. Each tribe’s autonomy and territory were too firmly established, and Cherad’s rebellion had set the entire Great Wilderness ablaze.

For Kirhas, who was now outside, the situation was extremely unfavorable. If the rebel tribes were neatly gathered in one area, it might have been manageable, but the federation was a scattered network. Guerrilla warfare was breaking out in countless regions, and even tribes loyal to the Chieftain had declared neutrality for survival.

“Hand Dar’al over to Kirhas.”

Fernandez muttered as he marked a spot on the map. His map detailed the inclinations and locations of each tribe.

In front of him, the campfire crackled and hissed.

[Then, my lord, we’ll hand Melmard over to Cherad.]

“Good. Then the western Sector 3 will be completely destroyed.”

[Will the Sultan tolerate that?]

“He’ll have to. Things aren’t looking good on his side either.”

Fernandez chuckled. This war was nothing more than a role-playing game. The roles of rebels, suppressors, the reorganization of power, and the elite soldiers who would emerge from the war…

Other sovereigns looking at the Great Wilderness might think a powder keg had exploded. But no. To Fernandez, this region, this vast landmass, wasn’t a powder keg—it was a smelting furnace.

A furnace to filter out impurities and extract pure gold. The rebel army? Most were made up of those dissatisfied with Kirhas’s rule, but the rest were sacrificial lambs for the wars to come.

That’s why Abel couldn’t be brought in. The excuse of sacrificing the few for the many was just that—an excuse. She was the type to sacrifice herself if someone had to be sacrificed, but Fernandez wasn’t.

[What about the Empire’s movements?]

“I’ve set the stage.”

At this point, Fernandez had two major tasks to prepare for. First, to stop the Emperor’s Eastern Campaign and either bring him down or politically ruin him.

Second, to establish a forward base to halt the advance of Karadskar, the Great Kagan of the White Kingdom, in about 20 years.

Creating a new hero for the Empire and putting a leash on him to use as a pawn was just a secondary benefit. Aiming for only one profit from a single scheme was amateurish, and Fernandez never played just one move.

-How righteous of you.

‘This is the right thing to do.’

-Since when have we been doing ‘right’ things?

‘Since the moment we were reborn.’

-Have you forgotten? On the day we first opened our eyes, we killed our uncle and cousin. All in the name of an experiment.’

The reason for stopping the Eastern Campaign was to prevent more bloodshed than the 50-Year War. The reason for halting Karadskar’s advance was to stop the collapse of countless small nations and the resulting social void.

So, it must be the right thing to do. Fernandez paused as he was about to mark a spot on the map. The fire crackled and whispered.

[My lord?]

“No, it’s nothing.”

The battlefield on the map was dull and cold. To those not directly involved, war was just a numbers game. Whether a hundred died or a thousand. No matter what tragedies or comedies were mixed into the chaos, it could all be summarized in a few digits.

On this battlefield, 1,232 people died or were injured. In this region, 353 died from looting, and the expected damage from infrastructure destruction is around 2,500 deaths from famine. By the autumn harvest, a total of 3,000 refugees are expected to be incapacitated by starvation.

The cold numbers seemed to roll and clatter. Fernandez put down his pen and rubbed his eyes. Sacrificing thousands to prevent a war that would destroy the infrastructure of at least half a million people was just pretty packaging.

This order will kill them. The blade that cuts their throats is sharp, but the hilt that wields it is connected to his pen.

“Align Cherad with the Lavirata Dynasty.”

[Shall we begin the southern campaign?]

“Keep the battlefield as consolidated as possible. Be careful not to let the frontlines scatter. Use Sectors 1, 5, and 9 in the south as the battlefield. Ensure a battle occurs in Sector 1 in three days.”

[In three days, Sector 1, Lavirata. Understood.]

-Crackle.

The campfire in the fireplace regained its red glow and burned naturally. Feeling the spell connected by magic dissipate, Fernandez let out a sticky sigh. He washed his face once and picked up his teacup.

-Are you feeling sympathy for them?

‘No. Empathy is forming.’

-For the beastmen?

‘For Beorn.’

The Inquisition Officers’ search, detection, or extermination missions. On average, the probability of a squad member returning alive was about 48%. For extermination missions, it dropped to below 15%.

The distribution of missions and final approval rested solely with the Monastery Head. It was immense power, but also a chilling responsibility. After all, it meant sending those they called ‘brothers’ to their deaths.

Beorn must have always felt this way. No, wait…





It’s probably worse. Fernandez has never met the beastmen who might be sacrificed in the battles below the battlefield. Beorn is someone who has witnessed the training process of all inquisitors up close.

– You’ve weakened, Fernandez. Disgustingly weak.

‘Well.’

Fernandez spoke coldly and picked up his pen again. Is this due to a change in disposition? Or is it because of past experiences? The only thing certain is that he never had such worries in his previous life.

Even now, there’s no reason to worry. Worrying is mostly a luxury. Time is limited, and life is just one of many expendable resources. War is a fire that devours resources, and he had plenty of fuel to throw into it.

He pushed the clock on the map. The eastern regions appeared under his hand. A small mountain village in the eastern part of the Empire came into view. A village that would inevitably be swept up in the flames of war if the Emperor declared war on the Eastern Kingdom.

“Aria.”

By any means necessary, the eastern war must be stopped. The Emperor’s eyes must be pinned to the west. No matter the sacrifice.

Even if this is just selfishness. It must be done.

* * *

Kirhas found Borua annoying.

“Oh, do you see this, Chieftain? This is the trace of the saber-toothed tiger I took down five days ago!”

Borua kept pointing here and there, making noise the whole way. Kirhas remained silent, leading her horse with a cold expression.

“Ah, this is the quarrel that bandit shot back then. Look, it’s still stuck here. Haha!”

Borua pointed at a small quarrel embedded in a tree trunk and laughed heartily. It had been like this the whole time. The path from Ribue to the wilderness was filled with all sorts of destruction and battle scars that hadn’t been cleared.

Strictly speaking, Ribue was just the capital of Carvelier’s territory. It wasn’t the middle of a battlefield or the edge of a frontline; it was supposed to be the safest land.

Therefore, the fact that traces of battle could still be seen while patrolling the areas near Ribue clearly showed the current state of Ribue.

But whether Borua knew this or not, he kept laughing as if reminiscing about precious memories while riding his horse.

“Ah, I miss Your Excellency.”

Kirhas sighed and shook her head. The horse snorted in dissatisfaction and walked forward again.

Fernandez had ordered her to inspect the security near Ribue. It was one of the conditions of the deal with the Duke. Since they had sent an envoy to the Imperial Palace, they had to stay in the territory and suppress rebels or bandits until a response came.

It made sense. Duke Carvelier had no troops to deploy immediately. To win him over, his base territory needed to be stabilized.

“You’re quite the quiet one, Chieftain!”

“It’s my nature.”

Kirhas spoke coldly and pulled out a pipe from her pocket. The other warriors had been dispatched to different regions, and Kirhas had been planning to take a quick round out of boredom.

Since a foreign sovereign couldn’t be sent without an escort, the Duke had assigned one of his most reliable knights. The problem was that this reliable knight was quite interested in Kirhas.

Mainly, in terms of combat.

“A warrior’s silence is a virtue! Ah, I’m curious about how you became Chieftain. Was it through a duel or something?”

“That’s a diplomatic faux pas.”

“Hmm! My apologies!”

Borua shouted with a completely unapologetic expression. After some time, they passed a few villages and reached the edge of the wilderness.

A vast grassland spread out before them. Kirhas still found the wilderness turned grassland unfamiliar. She had spent her entire childhood in the wilderness, and most of her short time as Chieftain had been spent shedding blood on the wasteland.

Beside her, Borua shouted.

“Ah, this is your land! Have you ever seen skeletons walking around at night?”

“The Wraith Dynasty?”

“No! I mean, real skeletons walking around at night!”

Borua spoke in a serious tone.

“There’s a village about two days north of here. Just a poor little settlement. Some strange rumors started circulating, so our knight order was dispatched once.”

“And?”

“The village was gone!”

“……?”

Borua frowned as he looked somewhere far in the plains.

“The village had disappeared. Only the buildings remained, the people were gone.”

“Was it invaded?”

“No. Food and goods were left untouched. It was as if a meal was set on the table, but only dust had piled up. Creepy, right? After that, similar rumors started circulating in a few villages.”

Rumors of skeletons walking around at night.

“At first, we thought it was an invasion by the Wraith Dynasty. We were on high alert for a while. The north is the land of the Apotazar Dynasty, right? They had made peace with our Duke during the last war. We sent envoys demanding an explanation, and our Palace Mage and their priest came to inspect the land. But no conclusion was reached.”

“So the people just disappeared?”

“Exactly. They just vanished. Not abandoned, not invaded, not cursed by some dark magic. Just cleanly. Like dust, they disappeared!”

At those words, Kirhas slowly closed her eyes. To her, this sounded like the beginning of a heretical incident.

* * *

At that moment, an unexpected guest arrived for Fernandez.

“I heard you were busy with a special operation, brother.”

A thin young man in an inquisitor’s uniform smiled softly as he sat across from Fernandez.

Fernandez had heard rumors of an inquisitor being dispatched to the Duke and immediately attempted contact. It was a familiar face. Heretica Pascal Andre. They weren’t close, but they had often crossed paths at the monastery.

“What brings you here, brother?”

“There have been reports of suspicious heretical activities in Ribue. It’s an operation directly ordered by the Monastery Head.”

“You knew I was here, didn’t you?”

“It’s a completely different operation. It doesn’t matter.”

Pascal sipped his tea and crossed his legs.

“What kind of incident is it?”

“Villages are being abandoned, and there are numerous sightings of skeletons and ghosts wandering at night. A clearly suspicious incident, isn’t it?”

– Manderson.

‘Why would Manderson appear here at this time?’

– Who else would openly do such a thing besides Manderson?

‘No, the western part of the Empire is his area of activity… Ah.’

In areas where security is lax, heretics and dark mages always thrive. And in a region that has fallen out of the Empire’s central attention after the 50-year war, with a gap in security forces, it’s the perfect place for dark mages to hide.

Manderson. Necromancer Manderson Allen. He was a dark mage who liked to set up laboratories in areas with many corpses but few watchers, and there was no place more suitable than Ribue.

Fernandez sighed deeply inside. This is troublesome. If the Inquisition Office starts investigating and monitoring, it will hinder the Duke’s actions.

‘We need to finish this as quickly as possible.’

Before the Imperial envoy arrives.