177. Special Operation Report: Snake Hunt
*
“Yar! ‘That guy’ is coming!”
A clan warrior roughly pulled back the curtain, tearing through the heavy silence in the tent. He hesitated for a moment in the oppressive atmosphere where two people were glaring at each other in silence, then quickly approached Aeren.
“That southern woman is coming. Yar.”
“Yeah. I heard. Where is she?”
“Near the north gate. Should I bring her here now?”
“No, I’ll go myself. Lead the way.”
Aeren put on his coat and nodded. Gunnar chuckled and said,
“He’s quite the guy.”
“You mean the fact that he escaped from that hellhole alone?”
“No, not just that. That guy, he’s coming from the north gate. He must have deliberately come back to let us know there are no enemies in that direction.”
Gunnar nodded and stood up. He swung his arm around and confidently walked ahead of Aeren.
“Shall we go meet this rumored southern woman ourselves?”
*
A noisy crowd stood at the entrance to the village, near the checkpoint, watching him. Fernandez smiled as he watched Kirhas running towards him from afar.
“Your Excellency! I’m glad you’re safe!”
“Did you doubt I wouldn’t be?”
“Of course not! Haha… But, who’s the person behind you…?”
Kirhas, about to run and hug him, suddenly stopped. At her words, Freya jumped down, fluttering her cloak. She stood in front of Kirhas and the crowd, proudly raising both arms.
[If I may speak! The greatest of the great Vanir gods. Half of the Einherjar pledge their loyalty to me, and I am the leader of all Valkyries! Yes! I am Freya Banadis! Bow before—.]
-Pop!
A burst of flowers bloomed brightly beside her. The flower buds, breaking through the snowflakes, bloomed simultaneously at her gesture, instantly turning the area in front of the checkpoint into a flower-covered meadow.
[You may worship me!!]
Kirhas stepped back, staring at Freya, who was chattering away. Your Excellency, another woman…? She looked up at Fernandez with a sense of betrayal in her eyes.
“Your Excellency, what is this, no. Is this woman… a witch or something?”
“Sadly, she really is a god, Kirhas.”
“A god…? A goddess?”
Kirhas narrowed her eyes, staring at Freya. She felt a strange, ambiguous presence, almost like she was less than an ordinary person, and it confused her.
From afar, Abel walked over and plucked a flower. She smiled brightly and placed the flower in Freya’s hair.
“Long time no see, Banadis.”
[Lindblum!! Seeing you in person is even more surprising! How are you alive? I’m so happy. What’s going on, oh my!]
Freya laughed brightly and hugged Abel. Abel smiled and stroked Freya’s hair. She then looked up at Fernandez.
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“You too.”
“Not really. I’m fine. Can I hear what happened?”
“We’ll talk about it when everyone’s gathered. Are you alright?”
“Thanks for your concern. You must be tired, let’s go inside.”
At that moment, the crowd at the village entrance buzzed and parted. A woman with lion-like golden hair and eyes blazing with energy appeared. It was Aeren.
The clan warriors bowed in submission and stepped aside. Watching the scene, Faijashi clicked his tongue.
-Impressive. That woman must have awakened some of her former power.
‘She’s a different case from Fierenel of the Great Wilderness. This land is full of crises, after all.’
The best way to build the quality and karma of the soul is through experience, and the purest experience is that of crisis. Aeren’s soul is that of an archangel. If even a part of that power awakens, it’s no wonder ordinary people can’t handle it.
Fernandez turned his gaze to the unfamiliar man standing beside her. The man was also looking at him.
‘Hmm?’
After a moment of eye contact, the man suddenly raised his axe and threw it.
-Kwaaaang!
A fierce strike that tore through the air. Fernandez quickly drew his greatsword from behind his back and cut through the trajectory. His clothes and hair fluttered, and snowflakes scattered everywhere.
He briefly assessed the tingling in his hand, then spun around and sheathed his greatsword. The hostility quickly faded. The man was staring at him blankly.
*
The crowd parted, and the moment he saw the southern woman, Gunnar’s survival instincts screamed. He was captivated by the southern woman’s half-white curly hair and the gloomy blue eyes shimmering within.
‘Damn, what the hell is that…’
Gunnar had good eyes. In other words, he had a good eye for people. He instinctively knew how to grasp a person’s essence, not by their appearance, but by their spiritual presence.
Therefore, he knew that the southerners of this city were twisted in some way. They acted cheerful and confident, but deep down, a sense of caution was growing. Warriors blessed by the gods were bustling around, and even the weakest-looking girl exuded a direct divine presence.
In the midst of all this, the ‘southern man’ they had all been whispering about, waiting for every moment, was said to be coming. Presumably, the leader of the southern warriors. Hearing this, Gunnar’s heart raced with both competitiveness and caution.
And then he met him.
‘That’s a monster.’
The moment he saw his face, it felt like the world was engulfed in darkness. The fact that a goddess jumped out of the baggage he was carrying was surprising, but that surprise was nothing compared to the moment he saw Fernandez.
His vision rapidly darkened…
He felt as if the world had shrunk, leaving only him and that guy. Leading his clan and facing the demons of Hazart Kazal, the presence of demons was something he was quite familiar with.
But that man. The emotions emanating from Fernandez were too pure to be those of a demon. Cold, calm, and a low, simmering murderous intent and madness burned beyond the abyss.
So, the moment their eyes met, Gunnar, gripped by an indescribable terror, impulsively threw his axe.
-Wham!
The axe throw, honed over a decade, was effortlessly deflected, and the man’s blazing eyes seized Gunnar’s gaze, and beyond that, his heart. Gunnar gritted his teeth and whispered to Aeren, who stood beside him, bewildered.
“What the hell did you do?”
“What did I do? It’s you who suddenly acted rudely towards my guest.”
“Guest? You’ve brought a monster into your clan.”
-Flick.
Suddenly, his vision cleared. The pressure lifted, and Gunnar blinked to find Fernandez standing before him, gazing at him. A slender frame, a head shorter, looking as if a single touch could shatter him.
“Monster.”
As he whispered, Gunnar noticed the smile on Fernandez’s lips and felt a chill. Fernandez extended his hand. As Gunnar stared blankly, Fernandez grasped his empty hand and shook it slowly.
“Uh, huh?”
“Pleasure to meet you. Your name?”
“Gu, Gunnar. Gunnar Vigrdsen.”
“Let’s not dwell on what just happened. We have more pressing matters to attend to.”
Fernandez patted Gunnar’s stiff back. Gunnar let out a small sigh. He looked at Aeren and said,
“Gather the elders. We need to explain the situation.”
“…Alright. Head to my tent. And check on your friends too. They should be by the shore.”
Aeren glanced at Gunnar and Fernandez, then shrugged. Men. Always trying to establish dominance when they meet.
*
Zephis was sharpening his Saintmetal Greatsword. Other Inquisition Officers were also polishing their weapons or offering prayers. The clan’s warriors were wary of them, and since they didn’t want conflict, they stayed on the outskirts of the shore.
“Brother.”
Zephis stopped sharpening his sword and turned towards the voice. From the village entrance, Fernandez slowly approached and knelt on one knee.
“Second-class Inquisition Officer, Diemonica Fernandez Sernerd. I seek penance for the omission of the operation report and approval process, and for bringing you brothers to this distant land.”
“Rise, brother. Unnecessary formality.”
Zephis extended a firm hand and grasped Fernandez’s shoulder. Fernandez slightly bowed his head.
“Only the Brothers of Diemonica have come.”
“There’s one from Enmagika as well. He’s inside, drawing star charts.”
“Did the Monastery Head personally assign this mission?”
“Still sharp as ever.”
Zephis chuckled and nodded. From the moment Fernandez submitted the report about hunting the Great Demon, he had anticipated tactical support from the Inquisition Office.
Thus, the reason he didn’t attach a request for reinforcements was that he knew few would return alive, which is why he knelt before Zephis.
-Why be sad? They are useful tools.
Fernandez didn’t respond to Faijashi’s words. He watched as the other brothers approached. Though restrained in front of Zephis, the Brothers of Diemonica’s faces were filled with joy.
It stirred guilt. The kind of guilt that comes from leading them to their doom. In this moment, Fernandez overlooked that the man before him was a veteran Inquisition Officer with 30 years of service.
“Useless self-reproach, brother.”
“Brother Zephis.”
“The Monastery Head has already spoken. No need to repeat it.”
The day before Zephis’s departure, Beorn had summoned him and said, ‘Whatever sacrifices must be made, they will be made.’ If Fernandez’s plan to kill the Great Demon succeeds, it will be the greatest move to prevent the end of the Material World.
To this, Zephis had recited the Inquisition Officers’ short prayer.
‘There will be a place for us in heaven, brother.’
The Inquisition Office trusted Fernandez’s judgment. In truth, there was no reason not to. His achievements proved his reliability. Thus, Zephis turned towards the Red Zone with a smile. Among the Inquisition Officers gathered here, there was no one who didn’t.
“I cannot guarantee your safety.”
“We do not seek earthly peace and tranquility.”
“A glorious sacrifice may not await us, but a miserable death.”
“Deus Vult (God wills it).”
“Then, Brother Angelo, let’s begin the operation briefing.”
Fernandez looked at Zephis with a firm gaze. Zephis met his eyes and gently shook his head.
“You are Angelo, brother. In this mission, we are the sword of Lord Vaitas and yours.”
Zephis took out a scroll and a steel rod from his robe and handed them to Fernandez. It was the mission permit stamped with Beorn’s seal.
*
Operation Task Force Team – Call Signs
1) Diemonica, Fernandez Sernerd – Angelo (A)
2) Diemonica, Zephis Siravast – Bardo (B)
3) Diemonica, Fabiano Meidas – Carlo (C)
4) Diemonica, Sergio Filermo – Dario (D)
5) Diemonica, Brand Chailos – Ermino (E)
6) Enmagika, Sarbelio Alonto – Feliciano (F)
We shall burn the demons, the heretics, the witches.
Final Approval: Beorn Shieldbane, Head of St. Bartholomew Monastery.
*
The pressure from Beorn’s pen left cracks on the parchment. It was clear what emotions he felt while writing this list. And below it, a sentence that would never appear in a regular report.
[Brothers, our path has always been the same.]
[Until we meet again, let us pray.]
[The Church’s relics are permitted.]
Reading this far, Fernandez rubbed his stiff eyes. The heavy steel rod… This was Beorn’s cherished Dwarf Thunderthrower. An ancient relic, one of the few remaining in the Material World.
He carefully hung the Thunderthrower on his sword belt. Watching this, Zephis smiled proudly.
“Now, let’s go burn some demons.”
“Yes, brother.”
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