< 86. The Coming of Troubled Times >
*
“The war situation is flowing strangely…?”
Fernandez’s dry lips twisted, and a cracked voice escaped.
A month-long coma was enough time to shake even Diemonica’s usual composure. His body and mind had been pushed to the brink of shattering.
The energy flowing through his body was faint. Kirhas quickly poured water into a cup and handed it to him. Fernandez silently quenched his thirst.
The cold moisture soaked his parched throat, sharply awakening his senses. Slowly, slowly. Like a sponge, or a desert. Greedily gulping water, his senses were awakening. Even his memories, delicately.
Traumas he wanted to forget also rose from the shadows, lingering as afterimages beyond his retina. Fernandez’s eyes wavered.
“Hmm, I’ll inform the operations room. Everyone is waiting for Your Excellency’s return…”
-Thud.
“…Your Excellency?”
Fernandez’s hand gripped her arm as she tried to turn away. His blue eyes shimmered through his black hair.
“Your Excellency.”
“Wait.”
Fernandez whispered as he steadied his breath. This is reality. The place I’m standing on now is reality. For a month, he had been melting and crumbling into the memories of King Dane.
A harmonious family, warm smiles, a son who respected him. Vassals who obeyed his words and willingly worshipped him. All these were things he had longed for in his past life but could never attain.
He envied it. Yearned for it. Watching King Dane’s memories, merely observing. Sometimes sharing those emotions and sensations.
-We are drifters, having left our own times and arrived in a distant place.
‘Yes, Abel. Truly.’
His path was heading toward the North Star, yet…
“…Your Excellency.”
“Just a moment, Kirhas. Just a little while.”
How could a father who killed his own son twice not crumble at such a sight? Since that day, his eyes had dried up, but how could he not feel sorrow?
The wounds carved into his heart and soul were still bleeding.
Kirhas silently watched her lord for a moment. Sorrow, grief, and longing flowed intensely. What past was this young knight carrying?
In her eyes, she saw the path leading to Fernandez. A path paved with deep blue silk. Now, that path was burning.
“I’m here. Your Excellency. I’ll always be by your side.”
She willingly vowed to be this man’s anchor. Slowly approaching Fernandez, who sat on the bed with his head bowed.
-Saruk.
Shiny black hair scattered around Fernandez’s shoulders. Tap. Her warm forehead touched his.
Fernandez’s sensitive nose caught Kirhas’s scent. A cool, sky-like, wind-like fragrance. His eyes slowly opened at the refreshing aroma.
Kirhas’s turquoise eyes were right in front of his. Kirhas blushed and slightly moved away. Her hair cascaded like a curtain.
His always expressionless, or sharp, blue eyes softened for a moment. Kirhas took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding as if it would leap out.
-Thud.
“Thank you.”
A rough hand stroked her hair, Saruk. Kirhas tilted her ears back and closed her eyes. For a moment, a purring sound escaped her throat.
-Is the melodrama over?
‘Yes. It’s over now.’
-Have you come to your senses?
‘Fortunately, I still know who I am.’
-Well, of course. Haha. We’ve never been entirely sane.
Beyond Kirhas, Faijashi looked at him with a twisted smile. Fernandez glanced down at Kirhas, feeling his touch, then looked up at Faijashi.
‘Rest is not a necessity for us, Faijashi. The body is just a consumable.’
-Though it’s a somewhat precious consumable now.
Fernandez gently stroked Kirhas’s hair and slowly stood up. His balance was off. His body was still not in perfect condition.
“Give me my sword.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Kirhas quietly replied as she dressed Fernandez in armor and weapons. The brief respite was over. Whether he wanted it or not, he had rested for a month.
Even if his mind crumbled and his body fell apart, he had never lived a life of complacency.
-Creak.
The door opened. Kirhas stood quietly by the door, bowing her head. Beside her, Fernandez walked out.
*
Shaksisi’s operations room was chaotic. Ravens and messengers flew in from all directions, along with magical communications and reports from the Great Magic Observatory. All this information was tangled and reflected in real-time on the tactical map.
Including Sadia, Shaksisi had five members here. Assisting them were thirteen tactical officers, forming the core of the operations room.
“The Order of the Cross Crusaders’ camp is gathering their military flags.”
“When was the information obtained?”
“Three hours ago!”
“By now, the Doctrine Defense Legion must have advanced toward the Lavirata Dynasty. Ignore it.”
The Shaksisi members stared at the complex shapes drawn on the tactical map, exchanging opinions. For the past month, there hadn’t been a single day of rest.
The ancient relic map, [Nellos’s Eye], reflected real-time information at the moment of acquisition. This massive map, placed in Shaksisi’s operations headquarters, had been distorted like a shattered pottery vessel since that day.
The Order of the Cross Crusaders, the Eastern Kingdom Alliance Knights. The Leviathan Empire’s 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th outposts. Lavirata, Apotazar, Tutankhamun Gartep, the Conclave Dynasty. The Kirzad Sultanate, and even the Federation of Beastmen Nobles.
The Western Great Wilderness was truly in chaos.
The crucible was forming. The 50-year war, which was simply a conflict between two allied forces representing the west and the east, reached a dramatic conclusion.
Sadia wiped her tired eyes as she looked down at the chaos. The situation had plunged into unpredictable chaos since the event known as [The Signal Fire of Mosat City].
The dead were rising everywhere, the Church of the Temple of the Gods suddenly declared a holy war, and the eastern kingdom was sending knights in a frenzy. For Shaksisi, who was in charge of strategy and tactics, this was far from ideal.
Then, a commotion was heard outside the door.
“Sir, this is a restricted area… Ugh!”
-Bang!
The sound of something heavy hitting the door echoed.
Who dared to cause trouble in Shaksisi’s command center? Sadia’s eyes sharpened. The Shaksisi members grabbed their weapons and glared at the door.
-Creak.
The door opened. A dark greatsword, metallic gray armor.
-Clank.
A powerful step that drew everyone’s attention. The sound of thick boots hitting the floor resonated loudly. Curly black hair swayed with each step, and within it, blue eyes shone.
“…Albert.”
A suppressed groan escaped Sadia’s lips. When, how? How could this man, who had been in a coma for a month, walk in so casually?
Despite this rude behavior, none of the Shaksisi dared to step forward. The moment they heard the name Albert, they all realized who this man was.
The [Signal Fire of Mosat City] incident. The man who single-handedly stopped the Leviathan Empire’s Great Magic Force and saved the city. The man who alone annihilated the Conclave.
A Knight of the Round Table and an Inquisition Officer. Albert.
“Forgive my rudeness.”
“…No.”
As members of Kirzat’s Shaksisi, they should have been thanking this young, reckless knight. After all, he had saved a peaceful commercial city of fifty thousand people single-handedly.
But at the same time, they found it hard to fully accept him. In this chaotic war, he was like the eye of a storm.
A masked Shaksisi looked at him coldly and said, “You have no right to be here, Inquisition Officer.”
“Right?”
At those words, Fernandez’s eyes sharpened. He clenched and unclenched his gauntlet, glaring at the man.
“I’ve heard from my vassals. About how I and my vassals have been treated over the past month. Why am I being treated like a prisoner?”
“…We took you in and healed you while you were in a coma.”
“No, you imprisoned me. Shaksisi. If it weren’t for me, Mosat City would have been reduced to ashes. Or perhaps a massive graveyard.”
At that, the man slammed the table in anger.
“If it weren’t for you, Mosat City would have remained a peaceful commercial city! Did you think we wouldn’t notice your dealings with Iron Side?”
“Shaksisi. Then why didn’t you kill me?”
“….”
As the man fell silent, Fernandez chuckled while looking at the map. The familiar cross-shaped emblem on the tactical map caught his eye.
The Order of the Cross Crusaders of the Church of the Temple of the Gods. Their emblem was visible.
“You were planning to use me too, weren’t you? As a bargaining chip with the Church of the Temple of the Gods amidst the chaos of the battlefield. Am I wrong?”
“We cannot simply let you go.”
“I have no intention of leaving now either.”
Fernandez pulled a chair and sat down. Naturally taking the head seat, he tapped the table lightly.
“Now we can finally begin negotiations.”
“Negotiations?”
“Peaceful negotiations.”
The Shaksisi swallowed hard as he looked into Fernandez’s eyes. Peace? Is that the look of someone who desires peace?
His eyes reeked of ash, flame, blood, and steel. The stench of war was overwhelming.
“Negotiations for peace. Isn’t that what you want? The end of the war.”
“How can we end this chaos?”
“Extreme chaos leads to extreme order.”
Looking at the map, Fernandez inwardly admired Angela’s wit. By awakening the specters of the Conclave to shake the battlefield and drawing in the Church’s paladins, the situation had now escalated into something resembling a religious war.
For Angela, who had no choice but to bear the political burden after the failure in Mosat City, this was likely the best move. To shake the very foundation of the power structure.
So, I’ll help directly. Fernandez smiled as he pointed to a corner of the map.
“Set up a negotiation table with the Federation of Nobles.”
If they want chaos, I’ll gladly play along. In fact, I’ll fan the flames even higher.
Chaos was all too familiar to Fernandez.
*
-Tap, tap.
-Tap.
-Thud.
Beorn silently read the report in front of him, habitually tapping the table. The taps grew stronger.
-Crack.
A fissure appeared in the thick wooden table. Beorn stopped tapping, removed his monocle, and slowly cleaned it.
“We maintain complete neutrality in worldly conflicts, Brother Zephis.”
“I understand.”
“Therefore, we must not officially project our power into the world. We cannot set such a precedent.”
“I understand, Monastery Head.”
Zephis picked up the report Beorn had set down and filed it away. Watching this, Beorn rubbed his temples.
“Could our Saint Brother really have fallen in battle?”
“…It’s unlikely.”
“It must be Iron Side’s doing.”
“Yes, Monastery Head. The circumstances suggest it is certain.”
-Creak.
Beorn pushed his chair back and leaned against the backrest. A shadow fell over his head. Retreating from the candlelight, Beorn’s voice echoed from within the shadows.
“With the authority of religious tribunal jurisdiction, the right to execute heretics on the spot, the right to deploy exorcism forces, and the right to act as a proxy for church sacraments. Brother Zephis Siraladast, conduct a heresy investigation using the powers granted by the Temple of the Gods.”
At those words, Zephis stood up without a word. Behind him, a voice filled with anger dripped.
“Show these heretics who dared to ambush an Inquisition Officer with worldly political logic the wrath of the Temple of the Gods. Brother. Inform all brothers. From this moment on, unofficial, voluntary heresy investigations are permitted.”
“Macto.”
“Macto Superlaudo.”
-Squeak. Thud.
The door closed. Beorn stared at the flickering candlelight, lost in thought.
Iron Side, Gray Circle, Shaksisi, Kirzat, and the Empire’s war. Or Necropolis.
Whatever the reason, those who dare to attack an Inquisition Officer cannot be anything but heretics.
We will burn the demons, the heretics, and the witches.
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