349. The Immortal and the Mortal (18)
Silence fell in the hall immediately after Partak’s shout. It was too disrespectful a remark to be directed at the great Hearttaker, the representative of the God of Hunting and the protector of the beastmen.
But Partak laughed heartily, staring at the distant spire of the castle.
“It seems she has tucked her tail and fled! How wise! Yes, Kirhas! Run! Run from your death! What can you do alone without your master?”
“Elder Blackfang, is it… alright to let the chieftain escape?”
A warrior, startled by Partak’s laughter, whispered softly. Partak shook his head and laughed.
“It will take us less time to seize Bülrang than it will for Goldentus to rally the doves. We will prepare for a siege centered on Bülrang’s supplies and cut off trade heading towards the Great Wilderness.”
“They can be self-sufficient. Moreover, Goldentus is not bound to trade with the Empire.”
“Yes, there’s Kirzat. Haha, I hope they do just that.”
Partak smiled sinisterly as he looked at the beastman warrior. He growled, prophesying each word heavily.
“Trade with Kirzat will be poison to them. The Empire and Kirzat still bare their fangs at each other. Bülrang is a human city. If evidence piles up that the beastman remnants who attacked here colluded with Kirzat…”
“A resurgence of the 50-year war…! I see!”
Bülrang and Ribue are territories bordering the Great Wilderness. After the long war between Leviathan and Kirzat ended, the war trade ceased, and both territories quickly fell into decline.
Ribue regained its glory as the Emperor’s home, but Bülrang was different. Bülrang managed to maintain its prosperity after the last war, but it was on the brink of destruction due to the devastation during the Empire’s civil war and the scorched-earth tactics used to stop Karadskar’s northern advance.
However, if war with Kirzat begins again and Bülrang leads the war under the banner of executing beastman rebels, it will quickly rebuild. Wealth from the east will flow into this city.
All that wealth, all that power… It will now fall into Partak’s hands. He is not merely coveting the position of chieftain. He is reaching for something higher, something farther.
The change of chieftain is just a process. Partak smiled as he looked at Castle Sephor.
Then, a flash of light struck at Partak’s feet.
-Clang!!
A gleaming longsword sliced through his hood and embedded itself just an inch in front of him. The hilt trembled with the force of the throw.
“W-what?!”
Partak jumped back in surprise, retreating a few steps. Far away, a silhouette appeared at the tightly shut window of Castle Sephor’s spire. Someone stood on the windowsill, looking down at him.
Partak swallowed hard. Kirhas Hearttaker… Even from such a distance, her emerald eyes shone like stars against the dark sky.
Her black hair fluttered like a lion’s mane as she arrogantly looked down at them.
“Retreating like a frightened rat. Partak Blackfang.”
“How dare you!!”
“You won’t come at me yourself, so have you gathered all the blades to replace your arms?”
-Thud!
Kirhas kicked off the windowsill and leaped. She swiftly adjusted her speed by kicking off walls and landed right in front of the gate. Despite the height, only a small noise was heard as she touched the ground, quieter than the gasps of the guards.
Her black hair swayed like a waterfall. Through it, her predatory eyes burned. She slowly rose and spoke to Partak.
“You set the rules. Will we take turns dying, or will we all die at once?”
“You’re utterly mad!”
“If you won’t fight with words, send the first to die. The moment that sword is crossed, it begins.”
Kirhas naturally grabbed and drew a sword from the waist of a guard standing right behind her. She placed a hand on the guard’s shoulder and spoke softly.
“Seal the gates and block all roads from the main street to the inner gate. Not a single rat is to leave this place.”
“Yes, Chieftain!!”
The guard immediately stood and shouted. She briefly patted his shoulder and turned away. Partak stared blankly, then burst into laughter.
“This woman is choosing her own death. Fine, I’ll grant your wish. But remember this. Your master can no longer protect you. He can only watch! You will go to his side. And your daughter…”
“Partak Blackfang.”
A voice as cold as a blade cut off Partak’s words.
“If you wish for a short and peaceful death, shut up.”
A chill ran down his spine. Partak unconsciously stepped back and looked at Kirhas. His warriors also let out low groans, bowing their heads or tucking their tails.
Even surrounded by large, well-armed warriors, Partak felt as if he had been stripped naked and thrown into a lion’s den. Every warrior in the room felt the same.
Partak shook his head and clenched his fists. Quickly, a beastman stepped forward, and dark blue flames flickered on the warrior’s body.
“Grrr!!”
“Go! Kill that woman!”
As Kirhas had said, they couldn’t all rush in at once. At that moment, they would fall from challengers to rebels. They could kill Kirhas that way, but they couldn’t rule the beastmen.
Fortunately, there were many warriors here. There were plenty of pawns to use. If one wasn’t enough, they would send a second, and if two weren’t enough, a third.
The chieftain had the right to refuse such a duel. But if she had intended to do so, she wouldn’t have blocked the roads. That arrogant woman had truly declared she would face all these men alone.
It would be enough.
It had to be enough. Partak muttered anxiously as he watched his first warrior charge forward.
* * *
A warrior, half-consumed by the wild, lunged forward on all fours and roughly clawed at Kirhas’s upper body. His stance and momentum were crude, but it was a fierce strike.
-Whish!!!
A poorly made iron sword slashed through the air as it charged. No matter how clumsy the attack, if it had strength and speed, it was threatening enough. Human flesh is softer than steel, regardless of the person.
But if a desperate strike doesn’t land, it’s no problem.
-Clang!!
Sparks flew from the stone floor where Kirhas stood. The warrior momentarily lost sight of the chieftain. Grr? His frothy throat let out a questioning growl.
-Slice!
And that was the end. The nameless warrior, until the very end, did not realize…
He didn’t realize death was coming. His vision spun, and soon he collapsed onto the stone floor. The warrior’s head rolled on the ground as he watched his own body slowly crumble.
Kirhas’s legs landed gracefully in front of him. She shook the blood off her blade and looked straight ahead.
“Next.”
No one dared to move recklessly in her presence.
* * *
“Incredible…!”
Abel missed her movements for just a moment. If this were a real battle, what if Kirhas’s sword had been aimed at her? Her long-honed instincts as a swordsman stirred.
Of course, swordplay isn’t just about what the eyes can follow. It’s about momentum, instinct, and intuition—each strike a gamble with life on the line. But to momentarily disrupt the vision of a dragon was no ordinary feat.
Fernandez nodded at her admiration.
“Time wasn’t wasted, it seems.”
“She had much to protect, so it’s only natural.”
Fernandez didn’t respond to her words. Abel glanced at him, silently watching the fight, and wondered.
Was he feeling sorry? Or perhaps regretful?
He was the one who had pushed that bright, unblemished child to whip herself forward. Though she didn’t want to blame him, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.
‘You make me proud.’
Fernandez whispered as he watched Kirhas dispatch the third challenger with a single strike. You make me proud. It was almost laughable to feel this way.
He had taken that great hero under his wing and molded her to his liking. The glory she was meant to have, the trials and hardships she would have faced—he had orchestrated and provided all of it.
To use her as a dagger. That was his only thought at first, but now he could no longer see Kirhas as just a disposable pawn. That radiant soul, though a gem he had crafted, had now become a blazing fire of its own.
And that filled him with pride. Fernandez simply smiled and watched the battle.
* * *
-Screech!
Seven heads rolled on the ground. No one dared to even breathe recklessly now. Kirhas, trembling slightly, held her blade steady and glared straight ahead.
Partak gritted his teeth and stepped back. A monster. Half a year wasn’t a short time, but it wasn’t enough for a warrior to lose their edge. No one had seen that woman wield a sword during her time of luxury and seclusion!
Partak’s fingers twitched as he secretly formed a hand seal. Three quick seals flowed through his hands.
-Crack!
The warriors’ pupils lost focus. The binding was complete, and his warriors became mindless puppets. It didn’t matter if they all died. As long as he could capture that woman.
Though his expression remained calm, even a human has their limits. He swung his hand, thinking this.
-Grrr!
The warriors charged forward in unison. Seeing this, the guards simultaneously drew their swords.
“This is no duel! Partak, how dare you defile our sacred traditions!”
“Step back.”
“Chieftain!”
“This is no duel.”
Kirhas took another step forward toward the charging warriors. She spun her blade and lowered her stance. Yes, this was no duel. Even if a pack of dogs rushed in, could they take down a lion?
This was slaughter. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. Between the warriors, now charging like beasts, a blue line of light began to glow and connect.
A familiar sensation. The path to victory.
-Swish!
The huntress began her sprint.
* * *
“Caught!”
Partak watched and clasped his hands. Even as he sent in the expendables, he didn’t truly believe they could kill the Chieftain. So, he had another plan, and if that failed, yet another.
He had served Fernandez for quite some time. He had learned his ways. Even the most perfect plan could fail. What mattered was how you handled the aftermath.
The blood, infused with Yekaset’s magic, had already soaked the ground. The warriors, undergoing demonization, fell dead, scattering fragmented magic into the air.
-Zap!
A dark blue current flowed through the air. It bounced, collided, and twisted along Partak’s fingertips. The magic in the air began to connect, crystallizing the space.
In the midst of it all, the Chieftain rampaged like a wolf among sheep. Kirhas, half-entranced by her sword, swung wildly. Her black hair couldn’t keep up with her speed, flowing like ink.
Every time the blade flashed under the torchlight, another warrior’s head fell. At this rate, half of his puppets would be slaughtered within twenty minutes.
That would be enough. Partak’s incantation floated through the increasingly dense magic.
‘Now!’
-Snap!
His fingers twitched like dry branches. At the same time, Kirhas’s movements stopped. Dozens of spells bound her arms and legs.
The Blood Binding of Caesar. An ancient, powerful spell prepared to restrain a warrior like Kirhas. Partak felt the spell lock into place and clenched his fist.
“Blackfang! Using forbidden arts in a duel?!”
“Why? Didn’t your Chieftain say it herself? Beyond this point, it’s no longer a duel but slaughter?”
Partak sneered as he approached Kirhas, bound in chains. He took a sword from a nearby warrior and held it to her throat.
“I will drag out the mad Chieftain who slaughtered her people under the guise of a duel and establish a new, ‘traditional’ alliance centered around the Elder Council. Rest now, Chieftain.”
Partak licked his lips and slowly raised the sword. He stared straight into Kirhas’s turquoise eyes.
“Say something. Beg if you must, plead if you wish, Chieftain. If my heart softens, I might spare you.”
“…Your Excellency?”
Kirhas’s eyes weren’t looking at him. They were staring blankly over his shoulder. The woman who had been raging like a beast moments ago now gazed vacantly into the distance, her eyes wide with shock.
What trick is this? Partak loosened his grip on the sword and stepped back. His instincts suddenly screamed warnings.
He stiffened, not daring to look behind him. A familiar, all-too-familiar presence was felt at his back.
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t…
“The angle of your seals is sloppy, Partak. Next time you use this spell, tilt the central axis 10 degrees to the right when forming the core. The timing of the bindings is also lacking.”
-Bang!
With the voice, the chains binding Kirhas’s arms shattered.
“See? It’s that easy to break.”
“Impossible… Ugh!!”
-Crunch!
Partak coughed violently as a sudden force brought him to his knees. A black chain had wrapped around his neck. The Chain of Domination—only one person in the Material World could cast this spell.
“M…Master?!”
Partak trembled as he turned around. The black chain, made of magic, faintly extended into the distance. At its end, a silhouette holding the chain in one hand slowly approached.
It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be alive… Why now, of all times, why today?!
“Lucky fool. Had your coup succeeded, your usefulness would have ended…”
Step by step, Partak lowered himself further. His jaw trembled, and thick drool dripped from his lips.
“But you still have use to me.”
Fernandez placed a hand on Partak’s kneeling shoulder as he spoke.
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