"I'm jealous of you being able to die like this. I'd like to be able to be killed by me, too, but I haven't settled things with Hedin yet, and most important of all, Lady Freya has stolen my heart. Until I've given my all for her sake, I can't die."
The fairy began speaking faster, but even as he spun a passage befitting a bard lamenting the world, the melody of his black sword never paused. His pitch-black cloak snapped sharply as another five soldiers fell to the ground coughing up blood.
"So die for me. Our goddess is looking forward to the path that girl is treading. So for the sake of that pleasure, die. I also would like to see what becomes of her. My bad, sorry, my deepest apologies. But I've heard that the heavens aren't such a bad place, so you probably don't need to be scared. I'm sure you'll return down here someday. Probably."
To the Warsa soldiers, his voice was like a lullaby murmured by a terrifying god of death. The dark elf whipping up a vortex of blood was undoubtedly a demon of the desert.
"…Ahhhh, it's like I've returned to my old self. I really hate war. I hate killing people."
Right around when the screams died out.
Hegni was standing alone amid the dark red sand that marked where so much blood had been spilled. Dozens of corpses were facing the opening in the ceiling of the ruins, their hands outstretched toward the sky.
The dark elf had not been touched by even a drop of blood as he looked out across the scene of devastation emotionlessly before disappearing into the night to hunt another unit.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
The Warsa squad was screaming as they ran away. The four prum brothers had blended into the darkness, making noise with their weapons as they watched the soldiers run.
"Just like Hedin said, we let two enemy squads through," said the eldest brother as he swung his spear.
His expression was not visible through the helmet he wore as his three brothers picked up where he left off.
"This is so boring."
"That snooty elf's acting like a tactician."
"A miserable elf who thinks he can increase his brainpower by pushing up his glasses just so. He should die in a fire."
"Oy, give it a break—you're making me feel bad for Hedin…At least he's better than Allen."
While his younger brothers tore into the elf, the more worldly Alfrik covered for the elf magic swordsman a tiny bit.
The Gulliver brothers were driving exactly two squads that were fleeing in a panic after the prums attacked. Watching the Warsa soldiers running to the south ahead of them, Alfrik switched gears.
"We're splitting up here. Dvalinn, Berling, you two guide them toward Leodo. Make sure when you're done that the tormented animals mindlessly snap at the bait."
"A monster parade with soldiers, huh?"
"It's harder to hold back than it is to finish them off. They're too damn weak."
The hammer-wielding and ax-wielding prums dashed off like the wind.
Grer with his greatsword was left with the eldest brother.
"Alfrik, we don't have to do this annoying stuff anymore now, right?" Grer asked.
"Yeah, there's no need to let anyone else through the defensive lines now.
We'll split up and maintain the perimeter." They were five kirlos away from Leodo.
In the vast desert sea with nothing to block the way, the prums, whose already-keen vision had been enhanced by their multiple level-ups, were able to spot any suspicious figures no matter how far away they might be.
"If anyone is fool enough to test their luck, wipe them all out."
Allen was in peak foul mood. "Warsa's soldiers are attacking again!"
"But there's this absurdly strong catman and boaz who are crushing them like insects!"
"Who is that noble able to command such powerful warriors?!"
The reason was because he was being forced to play a part in a farce in
front of the masses.
Right around when people were getting up in the morning, as if it had been perfectly timed, Warsa soldiers surged into Leodo. The residents screamed as visions of their town being burned again flashed through their minds, but then, as if it had all been arranged in advance, Allen and Ottar gallantly appeared, along with Ali.
"My powerful kavirs—no, my batars! Protect the people from those Warsa fiends, my heroes!"
As the people of Leodo were reliving their nightmares, a mysterious group appeared to rescue them.
The residents and merchants were moved by the powerful warriors and filled with a profound gratitude and respect for the king who led them—was the scenario that Hedin had constructed.
In the first place, basically no one knew that Allen and the other adventurers had been in the town secretly guarding Freya. And no one would recognize that Aram in his shining armor was Ali, the former slave girl. Even the slave merchants were deceived by the sight of Aram riding astride a camel while handing down orders with a regal authority.
The three of them behaved as if they had happened upon the scene by chance, looking for all the world like heroes from an epic who rose to defeat the villains.
"Amazing! They beat Warsa's soldiers so easily!" "Who are they…?"
"Ahhh, please save this town!"
Seeing the overwhelming display of power that Allen and Ottar put on in the scorched bazaar, the residents of the town cheered them on in a booming roar of support.
Perhaps as a reaction to the despair of having their town burned before, they were responding exactly as Hedin intended, deeply inspired by the sight
—incidentally, the first few voices that almost sounded like they were setting the scene were plants from the Fazoul Trading Company—
Making me be part of this stupid farce. Fuck off and die.
Allen's annoyance was rising by the second, and because of that, it was impossible for him to make a dramatic show of crushing the Warsa troops.
"Quit it, Allen! Don't be so brutal!"
Eat shit. I'll murder you.
The voice of the girl behind him who was pretending to be his master only served to send his annoyance through the roof.
"…Nrgh!"
"Igyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?!"
Looking closer, Ottar also appeared vaguely displeased as he haughtily sent the enemy soldiers flying high into the air. The soldiers who had been driven hard by Dvalinn and Berling were already worn out even before the "battle" had begun.
"This is why I hate goddamn farces."
Allen grumbled as he showily mowed through the Warsa soldiers, who could do little more than whimper in fear.
"So tired…"
Ali made her way back to the oasis mansion while trying to avoid some of the warm greetings from the residents of the town. The residents had readily accepted the explanation that the valorous desert warriors had rented out the manor from Freya.
Ali removed her gaudy armor and started to walk down a corridor.
"It's going to be a problem if you are already complaining after only this much," Hedin remarked as he fell in step behind her.
"It's not physical exhaustion; it's mental exhaustion…Allen very obviously wants to murder me. He might actually try to kill me when I go to sleep tonight…"
"If he does, I will pray that you can rest in peace."
She glanced at the elf resentfully, but if he cared, he didn't show it. "Thanks to the events of this morning, you are a hero to this town. Most
people will lend an ear to the savior who appeared in their time of need. That will make our plan significantly easier to achieve."
"It was all just a charade, though…Deceiving people who don't know any better…"
"No residents were harmed in the staging of the performance, so it is fine.
As with ruling a country, pretty words are not always enough."
As far as Ali was concerned, rather than being a hero, it was effectively
her fault the town had been burned at all, but Hedin would not allow her to wallow in guilt. According to him, "'Warsa and their barbaric behavior are clearly in the wrong. It is not my fault they behave as beasts.' Please snap back like that." That was how she was supposed to respond.
Ali could only sigh as the elf demanded efficiency while not allowing any
room for individual emotion.
"Alfrik and the others guarding the perimeter around Leodo have wiped out all of the Warsa forces in the vicinity. They should finally start to be wary of an undiscovered threat here."
"…How are they able to search for enemy soldiers and attack them so quickly without any means of contact?"
"Nights in the desert are clear. As long as we take up the right positions, it is trivial for us to catch any enemies approaching."
He said that as if it was natural that they could see enemies approaching from over a kirlo away. Ali managed to contain the twitch in her cheek that had become something of a habit lately. It was just dumb to argue when dealing with a battle strength that could eliminate all comers as easily as breathing.
"More importantly, milady-for-the-time-being, have you finished your preparations for the speech? Tomorrow it will be your turn to put on a whole performance."
Hedin opened the door leading into the command center, immediately receiving a report from Bofman's protégé, who hurriedly dashed over to him and stood there as he read through it. Because she was tired, Ali did not hesitate to sit in the chair that he yielded to her.
"I've finished my preparations, and I'll pull it off. If it will save Shalzad…save the western Kaios, I'll do it." She clenched her right fist as tension seeped into her voice.
Hedin stood at her side in the role of aide-de-camp, as she demonstrated her resolve. He glanced over, and then—staring directly at her head, he sighed.
"?!"
And then stretched out his hand and ran it through her hair near the base of her neck.
"Uwaaah?! Wh-what are you doing?!"
"You should take better care of your hair. Do you really think a shabby-
looking king can inspire thousands to follow them?"
She jumped out of the chair, blushing. Ali had forgotten all pretenses of the role of Aram as her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. Hedin looked at her in exasperation.
"Let's get your hair brushed out. I can do it better than the attendants here, so I'll come to your room tonight. Make sure to leave it unlocked, please."
"Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh…?!"
A man visiting a lady's room at night. Ali's face turned beet red as she imagined for a second that he meant something else, but Hedin, who looked back down at the report in his hands, his face as unchanging as the vast desert, quite clearly did not have any intentions of the sort.
To him—no, to all of them, all women other than Freya are probably no different from any other stone on the side of the road.
Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, what little maiden's pride she had was shattered, and Ali was left with a complicated feeling. Or rather she was pissed off.
"Proper grooming is a fundamental requirement for those who would stand at the top. There are many other areas where you need to put in the effort, but that is not one you can afford to neglect."
As expected of an elf, Hedin's appearance was outstanding. Even compared to Hegni and the rest of Freya's followers, he was a clear cut above the rest. In particular, his long, beautiful blond hair would be the envy of most women. In fact, even though he had just scolded Ali, she still could not shake the jealousy she felt. Aside from that, though, there was something about what he said that caught her attention.
"Hedin, if you don't mind me asking, before you joined Freya Familia, were you an attendant to a king somewhere? No…were you yourself…?"
The way he carried himself, coupled with his advisory rebukes, gave off a scent that was familiar to Ali. She had a feeling that he was of noble heritage, just like she was.
"What meaning would there be in you knowing my past? I can't find any value in it," Hedin responded without looking up from the report.
And it felt more like he really could not think of any reason in revealing his past rather than a desire not to have it dredged up.
He really is just an intellectual, hyperefficient elf.
That thought guided her next question.
"Then, why are you putting in this much effort as a retainer? Even if it was an order from your goddess, you're the only one who goes that far, unlike Allen and the others…like using such formal language to address me…"
He called her milady-for-the-time-being, but out of all the members of Freya Familia she had met, he was the one who had been the gentlest in his treatment of her by far. His polite words were just one example. It had only been a few days, but Ali could sense what felt like a small amount of actual respect from him.
And that question, at least, Hedin deemed worthy of answering.
"Those who have never suffered with how to carry out their duty have no right to call themselves kings."
"Eh…?"
"You faced the reality of your situation and did not flee from the grief or hatred. Not only that, you even rose to challenge the most beautiful and terrifying goddess. There is no one who understands the true meaning of that better than we do," the fair elf said as he glanced up from the paperwork and looked Ali in the eyes. "You have demonstrated the bare minimum pride required of royalty. Thus, I have decided to treat you as such, regardless of what others think or say.
"I suspect Hegni also has a better opinion of you now, too," he added.
Ali was dumbfounded. She by all rights should have been happy with Hedin's appraisal, since she had been so worried about her own suitability to the crown, but she was also struck by an odd feeling. The fact that Freya's followers had acknowledged her, even a little bit, was confusing to her. Especially given that she was relying on them completely and had done nothing herself.
Has anything about me really changed enough to earn their acknowledgment?
"I'm going to notify the others. There are too many useless incompetents here."
As Hedin got ready to leave, he left Ali with one last admonition.
"Milady-for-the-time-being, I won't ask much of you…But please, don't let us down."
Since you were chosen by milady.
That was all he said before he left. Facing his back as he walked away, Ali
mustered her resolve and determination to respond, "I won't."
The Kaios Desert was even hotter than normal that day. The air was heavy in Leodo as the sun beat down from high in the sky.
Though reconstruction was progressing, unease still gripped the town. There was a fear that Israfan would be next after Shalzad, that every country in the region would be ground underfoot by Warsa. And while the townspeople were worrying about the future, Ali was in Leodo's southern district along with Hedin and the rest.
"More came than expected…"
They were in a plaza. Normally used as part of the bazaar, today it was filled with a crowd of people. Ali's palms started to sweat a little as she peeked out from behind a building. It looked like everyone in the town had gathered there.
Ali—or more precisely, Hedin—had assembled them by saying she had an important message to share. And since it came from the hero who had saved the town, the residents were happy to accommodate the request.
The crowd was buzzing as people wondered what would be said. Some must have been hoping that the town's hero would pledge to continue protecting them.
"Hee, hee-hee…now is the time to raise the sacred signal…the holy pledge of the king who will lead the people of the sand…"
"Don't talk, Hegni…Prince Aram, this is your battlefield. I wish you good fortune in battle."
As Ali choked back her nerves, Hegni and Hedin spoke up. Their words made her realize the import of the moment.
—Right, this is my battlefield. I can't defeat the enemy on the field like they can, so this is where I make my stand.
Ali nodded to them as she stepped out. Her splendorous white armor—a light armor with a cape carried by the breeze when she moved—brought to mind jasmine blossoms as she stepped out onto the podium that had been prepared for her.
"…People of Leodo. You have my thanks for taking some of your
precious time to lend me an ear. I called you here today because there is a favor I must ask of you."
Thanks to the magic-stone amplifier at the top of the podium, her voice
carried all the way to the outskirts of the city. It truly was like a pledge being broadcast out to all of the people of the desert.
"There are some who believe me a nameless wanderer, so first allow me to clear that misunderstanding. I am the prince of the Shalzad family, Aram Raza Shalzad."
A murmur spread through the crowd. Many of the residents were shocked by the prince's name alone, but there were others who could not hide their disbelief. The merchants. Ali met their gazes as they looked up at the podium, probing whether she was telling the truth as she continued.
"I'm sure some of you may have heard rumors about me. The incompetent prince who disappeared without a trace as his capital fell and his country was ravaged by the Warsa army—However, that is far from the truth. In my country's hour of need, when the royal family's destiny was on the line, I split off from the army for a time in order to gather legendary warriors who would lend us their strength. And upon doing so, when I heard that this town was being threatened by the beasts of Warsa, I rushed here with all haste."
She was just repeating a perfunctory intro that Hedin had prepared. But this was where the real battle would start. This was where she would have to prove she was truly a king.
"—Merchants, and people of great Israfan! I won't command you to cast your lot with me! However, I pray that you can carry my words! Spread them on the wind, beyond the sand dunes to my beloved Shalzad!"
As emotion filled her voice, Ali thought back to the other day.
"A speech?"
In the command center, the same evening she had defeated the goddess at Halvan.
She was looking at Hedin in disbelief, not believing her ears, as he nodded.
"We do not have many pieces we can use. It is difficult to share information and plans, not to mention carrying out espionage and sensitive operations. Even if we want to eliminate the enemy's entire forces, we do not
currently know their precise location—That's why we need to call out from our end in order to convince the enemy to move for us."
As the other adventurers listened, Hedin spoke while studying the maps spread out on the table before him.
"Call out? Have them move for us…? What are we trying to send out?" "A signal for the entire Shalzad army. The message that we have a plan to
settle everything in a single decisive battle." Ali's eyes widened in shock.
"In order to allow Prince Aram's voice to reach them, we'll have to use the merchants. Merchants' rumors move faster than the wind, and this is a merchants' town in a country of merchants. They should be able to disseminate our message throughout Shalzad even with Warsa occupying it."
"…!"
"The speech is the crucial point. It can't be some anonymous rumor that can't be verified. The time and place of the decisive battle have to be proclaimed loud and clear for all to see and hear. We need Prince Aram's resolute action to be known by all around the desert world."
From the perspective of the Warsa army, Leodo should seem like an inscrutable land of ghosts where all of the units they dispatched disappear without a trace. And then all of a sudden, a declaration of war would emanate from that void. One directed not just at Warsa and Shalzad, but at the entirety of the Kaios Desert.
"You will declare the time and place of the decisive all-out battle. And you will have to be inspiring enough to gather the momentum and support needed to force both Shalzad and Warsa to deploy their entire armies."
"W-wait a minute! Even if my voice reached Shalzad's generals and they moved as I asked, there's no way to know whether Warsa will obediently come along! The difference in military strength is evident! They'll be on guard, but they won't just blindly commit everything they have…!"
In response to her argument, Hedin pointed at a certain location on the map.
"The location you'll have Shalzad's army deploy is an area to the northeast of Leodo, the Gazoob Wasteland. The rocky desert area near where the borders of Shalzad, Israfan, and Warsa meet. As long as the soldiers gather there, they'll be poised to advance into Shalzad or even into Warsa itself."
"!!"
"That's not something the main forces of Warsa occupying Shalzad's capital can afford to ignore. If their country was toppled then everything they have done would be for naught."
Ali was awestruck as she realized what Hedin was suggesting. He intended to threaten Warsa itself. If their army did not respond to the call for a decisive final battle, then the Shalzad forces would simply take their army and destroy Warsa.
There was no mistaking that Warsa had devoted a significant amount of their military force to the conquest of Shalzad. Their defenses back home were surely thin.
"Worst case, we can also call on Israfan to deploy troops as well, since they have also suffered from Warsa's barbaric assault. They have more than enough just cause," Hedin said, coolly mentioning a monumental contingency.
Ali unconsciously stared long and hard at Hedin.
Despite the fact that we don't have any retainers or soldiers, this elf is seriously trying to move the full armies of two different countries with a single plan. And he can probably do it.
Ali felt a shiver of terror.
"As a rule, you should always leave your opponent with two options to choose from."
"Eh?"
"And ensure that either of the two options is convenient for your needs. That way, you don't force the opponent's hand, but allow them the illusion of choice. In the royal court, as in war, that method is crucial for dealing with people, milady-for-the-time-being."
"!"
"You would be well-served by learning more unfair tactics."
Hedin matched Ali's gaze as he advised her, as if bestowing the extension of Freya's divine will. Seeing his coral eyes, Ali had a realization. He was both probing her and expecting her to develop even more as a king.
"However, all of that will hinge on the speech. Whether you can stir the desert world into motion is entirely up to you."
"Solshana fell, and my father, the king, was executed! All at the hands of Warsa! I have never cursed my powerlessness more than I did that day!"
Her gestures changed as she drew in the crowd's gaze and looked out over the throng. They had used all of Bofman's connections to summon countless merchants from other towns. And Leodo was a merchant town to begin with. This place's web of connections encompassed the whole of the Kaios region.
Incidentally, the high-class armor Ali was wearing had also been provided by the Fazoul Trading Company. Ali wondered in the back of her mind when the Fazoul Trading Company, and particularly Bofman, was going to collapse from overwork.
"However, now we have a powerful ally! The legendary warriors who will aid Shalzad, the eight great heroes who will crush the armies of Warsa! Their strength is as you have seen!"
When the crowd looked over at Ottar and the others, their excitement ratcheted up another level. Borrowing the dignity and presence that Freya Familia wielded, Ali fanned the crowd's excitement higher. Even the merchants started to stir. After all, they could not remain indifferent to Warsa's barbarity.
The crowd was being drawn in by Ali's plea that they need only spread her words. Many were still enraged by the fact that their town had been put to the torch. All that was left was for Ali to prove that she was indeed Prince Aram. Then everything else would fall into place.
"I'll ask you again! People of Israfan, please carry my message word for word to my beloved homeland! To my people's brave generals!"
The words she said here on this day—all of the merchants would spread that message to Shalzad's army. But the loyal retainers would have to consider whether the prince in Israfan was a pretender or a trap set by Warsa. Reports of purple eyes inherited by members of the royal family would not do. That was not proof enough by itself. Because of that, she needed to include something in the message itself that showed without a doubt that she was the prince.
"I swear by Ali, the name of our family's great founder, that the decisive battle shall take place five days hence in the Gazoob Wasteland! Gather all our forces! We shall retake the capital!"
Ali's proof—her real name.
The true identity of the prince was not something a fake could possibly
know.
The excitement of the people and the merchants bubbled over at her display of a sovereign's authority and her declaration that righteousness would triumph over villainy.
Ali thrust her fist toward the sky and shouted with a resolve to accomplish everything she had said.
"I declare here and now! As the surviving son of the house of Shalzad, I shall become the new king and strike down the villains of Warsa!"
The crowd swelled with cheers, and the burning sands of the desert trembled with hope. The merchants' determination rode the wind and spread its wings as it took to the Kaios sky.
And seeing that, the members of Freya Familia also acknowledged the girl who would be king.
"Ah, the princess…! She still lives!"
The speech in Leodo spread across the desert that very day, carried by the merchants. And loyal retainers of Shalzad who heard it fell to their knees and cried tears of joy.
"The princess—no, the prince! If he swore it on the name of our great founder Ali, then there is no mistaking that it is Prince Aram!"
All around Shalzad.
Battle cries roared out among the pockets of resistance that were still struggling against the invaders.
There was, of course, no one named Ali among the founders of Shalzad. That secret signal proved Ali's identity and invigorated those few retainers who knew Aram's secret.
"Inform the other forces! The prince in Israfan is the true prince! Gather our forces in Gazoob for the decisive battle!"
In the encampments where morale was sinking because of how poorly the resistance was faring, the old general Jafar, Ali's right-hand man and her most trusted retainer, bellowed his orders.
The Shalzad army, which had been worn down and was losing hope, roused themselves in the blink of an eye as they began marching east as one.
"Reporting! The remaining pockets of resistance on all fronts have begun advancing east! The Shalzad forces are splitting into small groups as they advance…we can't pin them all down!"
The Warsa encampment in Solshana.
Gorza slammed his fists down on the map spread across the table when he heard the soldier's report.
"Damn it! They got us!"
The now famous speech in Leodo had also reached their ears. He would never have dreamed of using the merchants to re-form the scattered army. It went without saying, of course, that Shalzad's army had a much better grasp of the terrain there, so it would be impossible for Warsa to stop them from using various back doors in order to regroup and form backup. And if Shalzad embarked on a full-scale counteroffensive, then Israfan would surely support them. Resheph Familia's barbarism was coming home to roost.
Five days hence. The Gazoob Wasteland.
It was obviously an invitation. Gorza could clearly hear a certain elf's implicit threat: If you don't feel inclined to settle things here then we'll simply attack Warsa itself.
"Prince Aram…! To think he was planning this when he vanished! What a bold move! I'd heard he was skilled, but to think he had such potential!"
Or perhaps he had an excellent wise adviser at his side. However, even so, there are none more sensitive to the birth of a new king than the country's populace, and Gorza could feel the foreign prince's resolution in his bones as the furor gripping the people of Shalzad reached his army camped out in Solshana.
"HOT DAMN! This reeks to high heaven! This here's one helluva of a scam!"
In a different camp from Gorza and the main forces, the god Resheph was roaring with laughter.
"This so-called choice is nasty! 'Meet us where we want, or we'll raze your country.' Whoever thought this one up is pretty great!"
Dignity and grace aside, as expected of a deity, Resheph correctly recognized what lay behind Hedin's plan. And despite understanding it, he could still do nothing but respond to it. Even knowing that the enemy was
hiding something, he had no way of knowing what their secret plan was. Until the lid was opened, even a god could not know for certain what lay in store.
"We could have the army disband into bandit bands and scatter around the desert realm…Well, that'd be fine, too, but I can't deny it would feel like a bit of a step down. And honestly just a bit boring."
Resheph had no interest in winning the war. As Ali and Gorza feared, he was making plays according to another plan that had nothing to do with what either country had in mind. It was a pastime that could be called a hobby for a certain subset of deities; his was the plan of an evil god trying to sow chaos in the mortal realm.
"Well, fine. I'll call your bluff. That sounds more fun anyway, and I've got an ace up my sleeve, too—right, Seal?"
"Yes, Lord Resheph. Unfortunately, though, it won't get its chance to shine," responded the elf at Resheph's side, his familia's captain, Seal.
He had a dark smile unbefitting a member of the fairy race. He was tall, lean, and sported long black hair. He was topless other than a cloak draped over both shoulders, with ominous-looking tattoos covering his skin. He looked like a cultist born of darkness.
"I'll slaughter the Shalzad and Aram by myself and then I'll skin him to make a flag of his hide for you."
"That's what I love about you, always spewing such sleazebag shit with such a handsome looking face! Ha-ha-ha!" Resheph cackled at his closest aide and captain.
Resheph was inhuman and his followers were all devilish in their own right.
Their plan was callous and wretched to the extreme, one that would bring chaos to the mortal realm, but—
Put bluntly, that plan would not come to light due to this battle.
"I don't know what that 'eight great heroes' shit is about, but there's no way any power in this neck of the woods could match us!"
For the simple reason that an unparalleled strength that Resheph could not foresee was currently in the Kaios Desert.
"Hedin, can you gather everyone for me?" Ali asked.
The night before the battle.
The location was, as always, Leodo. With the adventurers' legs, they could arrive at the scene of the battle within hours, and because Aram had appeared there in order to deliver his speech, Warsa might try to strike back, so Ali wanted to wait and protect it until the last moment.
"I've gathered those who can be gathered, but to what end? You aren't planning on giving us rousing encouragement before the battle tomorrow, are you?"
Hegni, Ottar, and Alfrik had gathered in the hall.
The younger Gulliver brothers were on watch at the perimeter outside Leodo, and Allen was apparently not inclined to respond to her request.
Still, Ali shook her head at Hedin's question after he had gathered them. She realized that Freya Familia, the strongest of all, did not have any need for encouragement or really any of her sentiments. It was just that she suspected this night would be her last chance to really have a word with them.
"First of all, I'd like to say my thanks for lending me your strength. I'm sure Hedin would tell me that as king I should not so readily lower my head, but…in truth, this is the only thing I can offer you at the moment. So—thank you." She met each of their eyes in turn as she spoke her mind without pretense or artifice.
The goddess's followers were unsurprisingly not moved in the least.
However—
"Nothing's over yet, so don't be getting ahead of yourself. But…I'll be sure to tell my brothers." Alfrik's tone was calm, but at the end, his voice sounded a bit more affable.
"…Y-you were significantly less foolish a ruler than I expected, so…I mean because…uggggggggh Now is the time for me to break free from the robes of darkness and scorch thy foes with an all-consuming hellfire! Hee-hee-hee-hee!" Hegni, who apparently had trouble speaking, seemed to be trying to say something, but it ended up collapsing into a moan and then things only become more unintelligible from there.
"Shine. That is the potential the goddess saw in you as well as your duty." Ottar said only that, his expression entirely unchanged.
"There is nothing more I need to tell you. However, if I were to add one
final intrusion, then…I suspect that the troublesome cat is on the third-floor balcony."
Thanking Hedin, Ali headed toward the troublesome, feral cat.
"Allen."
The catman with black and gray—almost silver—fur was on the balcony as Hedin had said, looking out at the desert night. He did not show any sign of acknowledging Ali's greeting, so she quietly approached him.
"Stay away from me. Figure it out already that I've got no damn intention of pretending to be friends with you."
"Okay. Then I'll say what I wanted to say from here." She stopped five steps away from him on the spacious balcony. "I said my thanks to the others already, but…I want to apologize to you. I insulted you during the journey."
On the first day after they had left Leodo, Ali had thoughtlessly lashed out in a childish fit of anger. She had almost been killed on the spot for it, but she had been wanting to apologize to Allen ever since.
"I'm sorry Allen. I was narrow-minded. I slandered the devotion you all have toward your goddess."
"Quit acting like some dignified leader, stupid brat. It's making me sick."
Curt and to the point. He really only ever had abuse to hurl. However, Ali already knew that was the kind of person he was, so she did not lose her temper. Instead, she just smiled softly.
"…Something funny?" Sensing her smile, Allen's head turned to look at her.
"No…" Ali said as she looked up, still smiling. "Hey, Allen, are you glad to be able to devote your everything to a single master…to your beloved goddess?"
"What?"
"The thought just crossed my mind. During these few days, Hedin and the rest of you, your devotion was directed at the goddess behind me instead of at me. And more than I was jealous of her…for some reason I was jealous of you."
The starry sky spread out before her. And the solitary crescent moon hanging high above. Ali found that the words tumbled from her lips without any thought as she took in that beautiful night sky.
"Goddess Freya is…mysterious. There's no telling what she's thinking. But her words, her eyes, something about her somehow draws my heart in anyway."
"…"
"She truly is more beautiful than anything. But the thing about her that is most alluring isn't her looks…It's her capricious, brilliantly noble personality."
Ali suspected she knew now why Allen had gotten so incensed with her before. Those who had devoted themselves to Freya were those who had had their hearts cleansed by her, who had been saved by her. But Ali could not kneel before the goddess because she needed to sacrifice her own desires, to become king for the sake of her country. The moon shone so high in the sky, but it still could not reach the heavens. It could not wait at the foot of the deities who were able to look down on everything, even the moon.
"I have a country. I have my duty as king. But if I could abandon myself entirely like you have, devote myself wholeheartedly to something…"
How long had she had that thought? Since the Halvan game? Since that night in the oasis? Or was it ever since they had first met?
Ali did not really know what she wanted to say, so she stopped there, realizing that those pure feelings were not something she should be putting into words.
"…Sorry, I ran my mouth about something I shouldn't have. Just pretend that didn't happen." Ali grinned to cover it and started to leave.
"Just cast it aside if you want. It's only a country." But Allen's words stopped her in her tracks. "What?"
"If you're jealous of our allegiance, then that's because we're just being faithful to our desires. Because we've no need for anything other than her and desire nothing else."
Allen turned to face her, meeting her head-on. Ali was shocked as he hit her with a voice that for once had a tone of something other than censure.
"Don't try to blame your own weak will on something else. That country is just a parasite leeching off you."
"!"
His sharp gaze piercing her was unlike any other he had turned toward her. Ali was visibly shaken by his argument as Allen rocked her with another
explosion.
"For her love, I cast aside my own family…my little sister." "—"
"To society, I'm the lowest of the low…but what of it? You think I'm gonna give up because of what other people think? If that's enough to stop you, then it isn't fit to be called love. At least not as far as she's concerned."
So follow through to the end. That's what it means to really want something.
Ali was unable to respond, floored by the impact of Allen's conclusion. And Allen did not say anything else. He passed right beside her and left the balcony.
Left alone, Ali awkwardly peered back up at the sky. "…"
The moon could not reach the heavens. But could it be forgiven for forgetting to look down on the earth, for forgetting to shine—so that it could look up to the heavens itself?
The doubt that crossed Ali's mind left her with a heavy heart and unshakable questions.
As he walked down a long corridor filled with columns, a voice called out to Allen, who was carrying his spear on his shoulder after he left Ali with his parting words.
"Liar."
Freya was leaning against a pillar with a smile on her face. That goddess's smile that even Allen acknowledged he could not best.
"You still care about Ahnya." "…"
Allen stopped.
"Surely you jest," he said and then started walking again, actually leaving this time.
The goddess's eyes twinkled as she watched him walk away. Freya had been watching over the girl on the balcony all along.
The room was dark, dimly lit by the moonlight shining in from the window. The white curtain rustled faintly.
Ali was suffering alone in her room. It was hardly the time for it, since the battle that would determine the fate of her country was going to happen the next day, but she was troubled.
Cast aside my country…? Me…?
Cast aside Aram and become one of the goddess's followers. It was a thought that had never crossed Ali's mind. To the girl who had never known anything other than life as royalty, it was an option that she should decisively reject, and yet it was an alluring possibility.
No, that's not right. Ali herself was— "Ali."
"!"
Ali's shoulders twitched as she heard the door open and a voice call out to her.
"A-at least knock!" she shouted at Freya, who entered without any hesitation.
"I did, but you didn't answer," the goddess responded as she approached Ali. "It seemed like you were a little preoccupied. Is something on your mind?"
Freya sat down next to Ali on the bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Nothing of any importance…" Ali responded as coolly as she could manage, not wanting the goddess to realize what she had been thinking about.
Freya giggled a little as she studied Ali from the side. "Allen's actually a bit of a softy in his own way." "…? What are you talking about?"
"His tone's a bit harsh, but he's always acting with me in mind. Because he knew that I wanted you, he tested your feelings."
"!"
She was shocked to realize that Freya had overheard her conversation with Allen, and at the same time, she thought, She sees through me. She can tell exactly what I feel deep in my heart.
Ali looked away from the goddess to hide the fact that her cheeks were burning.
"I mean, you are someone I'm attracted to, so it's understandable that you would be caught up on me."
What sort of logic is that?! You're too self-centered in every possible way!
But that explanation did not draw the sharp-tongued rebuke from Ali that it was designed to evoke. Instead, the girl was just silent, her hands full dealing with the feelings in her heart that she had not yet gotten a handle on. It took Ali a few seconds to respond.
"…Even if what you said were true…it's not a yearning sort of love." "Ohh? Then what is it?"
Ali averted her eyes as she carefully chose the words to describe the swirl of emotions she felt deep inside.
"When I see you…I'm sure I see some of my mother, too."
In her memories, Ali's mother had long black hair. She was a fragile, beautiful woman. The image that was burned into her eyes was of her mother's last smile as she lay on her bed and caressed Ali's cheek. Ali was bawling her eyes out while her mother also cried as she apologized to her child.
Her reserved mother and the free-spirited and high-handed Freya did not really have anything in common. But in Ali's mind, their faces seemed to overlap. No, perhaps it was better to say that Ali's heart was making them overlap. Perhaps she was seeking the warmth of a phantom of her mother who died when she was young.
It was embarrassing enough for Ali to admit that she missed her mother at her age, but Freya did not tease her about it. The goddess merely shrugged.
"Well, I am a goddess, so it's not really wrong to think of me as a mother figure. To me, all of you residing down here in the mortal realm are children, after all."
"Th-that's not what I meant!"
Freya giggled as if there was something funny about Ali's denial. Her eyes narrowed, finding it charming that that was where Ali decided to interject.
"But I like that side of you. That sincerity that will honestly share what you are feeling in your heart, and the serious way you face the fact that you still don't know yourself and continue to worry about what to do."
Ali's heart throbbed as she met the goddess's gaze and listened to what she was saying. Freya softly caressed Ali's cheek, brushing her hair back.
"You've done well, Ali. You've worked hard to get here today. I'll swear it on my name. You have handled yourself more regally than anyone else in this desert realm to get here."
"Gh…!"
"There are no more impurities in your soul. That amethyst radiance has bloomed."
She treated each strand of hair with a tender affection, like she would a child—or a lover. The bed creaked. Ali was flustered as she noticed the warmth of the goddess's hand next to hers on the bed. She could not deny that she was deeply attracted to Freya.
As a goddess? As a mother figure? Or as—
Ali shook her head at the thoughts racing through her mind. The heat in her cheeks refused to fade. She was struck by a boyish annoyance that had no focus.
I see…I wanted someone to praise me…
Not as Aram, but as Ali.
She could not tell whether those maddening feelings were an extension of her childlike desires or whether they were the cravings of a love-starved person, but either way, she longed for Freya's love. She could not deny that.
Ali smiled. It had been bothering her, but once she admitted it, her heart was lighter. She was satisfied with that. She should have been satisfied with just that, but—
"—So I'll give you a little treat, Ali."
Creak. The bed groaned again, even louder than last time. "?!"
Ali was pushed down onto the bed. It was a gentle push, but it had no difficulty bringing her down. The goddess looking down at her brushed her hair behind her ear and then slowly lay atop her.
"Wh-wh-what are you doing?!"
"I told you, didn't I? I'm giving you a treat."
The furniture in the room had been matched to Freya's tastes, since it had originally been intended for her use. And the bed the two of them were lying on was no exception. It was extremely big and had an extravagant canopy. It was more than large enough to comfortably fit both of them.
The goddess's face moved closer to Ali, her hand caressing the girl's cheek. A shock of pleasure raced down her spine.
"…No, it might just be that I can't restrain myself anymore," Freya said with a smile that was simultaneously innocent and alluring.
A crimson color like nothing she had felt before filled Ali's head. "W-wait! Why is this happening?!"
"Because I'm Freya, the Goddess of Love and Beauty." "But we're both women!"
"I don't mind either way."
"Wh…? W-wait a minute…D-don't." "Hee-hee, so cute."
Before Ali realized it, her nightclothes had been removed. Their hands were tightly clasped like lovers. An unbelievably mind-bending scent tickled her nose. Her purple eyes dimmed as tears welled up, meeting the dewy silver eyes above her.
"Shall we share a sweet dream tonight?"
That night, the girl dreamed of being consumed by a giant dragon.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aah!"
"Where…where…?"
Late that night in the hallway of the estate. A suspicious shadow emitted an uncanny voice.
"Where is Lady Freya…?" It was Bofman.
He was breathing raggedly, and his eyes were entirely bloodshot. Bofman seemed almost on the verge of death.
In addition to the goddess's unreasonable requests, he had also been tasked with Hedin's frequently absurd demands.
Between gathering boatloads of information on Warsa so that Ali could take back her beloved Shalzad, straining his connections to their limits in order to reel in as many merchants as possible, and many other things, he had been forced to work long and hard, neglecting sleep and not allowed any rest. Despite being a mere merchant, he had made every effort in every endeavor and endured the harsh treatment of Freya Familia, whose stance was effectively "of course you have to work day and night, swine." There was no question that he rendered distinguished service from the shadows.
And now, the night before the final battle, finally freed from that nightmarish labor, he was wandering through the manor like a zombie.
"This debt won't be repaid until I've experienced the goddess's sweet nectar…!"
—It was inevitable he would want something in exchange. The connection with her familia that Freya had promised to grant his company would not be enough! This debt could not be cleared until he was soothed by the peerless and incomparable goddess's body!
Driven to the edge, Bofman lost all restraint, surrendering himself to his desires.
"Gee-hee…hee-ho-ho-ho…! I'll have her let me join in while their lovely little tryst blossoms…!!"
Perhaps his senses had been enhanced after having been pushed to the brink of death, but Bofman could sense clearly that the goddess and the girl were already quite entangled, and he fully intended to join in and gee-hee- hee-ho-ho-ho.
Finally reaching the highest floor of the estate, he was about to sneak through the door to his goal—
""""You filthy pig!"""" "?!"
Shadows appeared out of the darkness and dragged him away. "Where do you think you're going, swine?"
"Are you looking down on us, pig?" "You're awfully brave, swine." "And unbelievably stupid, pig." "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep?!"
His pupils widened as the devilish Gulliver brothers pummeled him into the floor. And it was not just them.
"Don't scream." "I'll murder you." "Rot in hell."
"Bugyaaaaaaaaaa?!"
The all-stars of Freya Familia were all there. Hedin with his cool gaze was serious as always, but even Hegni's tone dripped with murder. And Allen had already landed a kick right in Bofman's gut.
"—A beast like you has no right to enter the goddess's chambers."
And the last to appear was the enormous, boulder-like warrior. "Come. We'll house-train you."
The strongest warrior, Ottar, delivered Bofman's sentence with a stern voice.
"N-nooooooooooooooooo! Save meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
His fattened body was dragged down the hall into the darkness. That night, he dreamed of being killed by the Einherjar countless times, only to be forcibly revived for more suffering each time.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aagh!"
There was a faint scent of jasmine.
She was still dreaming after the goddess had granted her a special gift.
Her eyes opened. Crossing the line between dream and reality, she noticed the room was dim. A desert with a brightening blue sky unfolded outside the window. A coolness shrouded her body, telling her it was early morning.
"Are you awake?"
A soft voice rang in her ears, and turning to the side, she saw a beautiful goddess. Ali's sleepy eyes jolted open, and she looked extremely annoyed.
"I'm awake…I just woke up. And next to you, of all people."
"I see. I'm still sleepy." Freya yawned cutely, pressing her hand to her mouth to cover it.
Thinking back to what had happened last night, Ali felt like her face might catch on fire. Her body was still sluggish. The only thing she could do was glare weakly at the goddess.
"You just wouldn't let me sleep at all last night, Ali." "You were the one ravaging me!"
Ali shouted "Don't try to put the blame on me!" as she averted her eyes and turned bright red.
The goddess was her usual free-spirited self today, too. Her voluptuous breasts were pressed into the bed as she lay on her stomach, her head lying on the pillow as she behaved like a listless cat. The sheets were in disarray, leaving her naked upper body entirely on display. Ali could feel her cheeks
burning as Freya's eyes narrowed like a cat's, and her shoulders shuddered slightly as she suppressed her giggle.
"We're both women, so wh-why did…!"
"You're really so fastidious. I told you before that a wise man always has a vice or two to amuse themselves, didn't I? Have you really never played around before?"
"Of course not! I could never risk my secret coming out!"
Ali raised her body up, naked as the day she was born. She suspected she was still blushing as she rubbed her dark skin and pouted at the goddess.
"I at least learned the basics…so I would be prepared for my companion once I'm king.
"So don't make fun of me," Ali said, doing her best to keep a hold on what dignity she had left as Freya lifted herself up.
And then, sliding her legs behind her, she faced Ali and gave her a hug. Her full bosom pressed against the girl's flatter chest. Ali unconsciously groaned in frustration as she couldn't help but be conscious of the goddess's well-endowed body.
"Then make sure you remember this night so you can make the woman you marry happy."
"…Whatever unfortunate girl takes my hand will undoubtedly know Aram's true identity beforehand. If she didn't, she would never be chosen as the official wife of a king hiding his gender," Ali responded with her face nestled against the top of the goddess's soft bosom before reluctantly peeling herself away. "Ensuring the royal family's lineage doesn't end is my duty. I have to find a fitting man to grant me a child to ensure the next true prince can…"
Her words trailed off as a sharp pain rippled in her chest.
She had been raised to do that and had long ago resigned herself to it. But it was terribly painful all of a sudden. Now, after she had experienced this goddess's love.
"If it were me, I would fulfill your every need, whether as a man or a woman…" Freya put her hands on the girl's cheeks and pressed her lips on her forehead. "…Whatever the future may bring is up to your decisions today. The battle will be settled by Ottar and them, but you are the one who will decide your own destiny."
The goddess caressed Ali's cheeks tenderly. Her gaze and her hands were
simultaneously like a lover's and a mother's.
I don't want this to end. I don't want to have to leave. Not after I've felt this warmth.
Suppressing those feelings in her heart, Ali stood up. She poured some water from the pitcher at the corner of the room and dumped it over her head. Her body shivered from the cold as her senses sharpened, allowing her foolish thoughts to shrink back to the depths of her heart. Taking the washcloth soaking in the water, she carefully cleaned every nook and cranny of her body, washing away the traces of the night before, before putting her clothes on.
The goddess watched over her from the bed. "Do your best, Ali."
When the girl had finished all her preparations, the goddess smiled kindly. "And go forth, Aram."
A fearless smile appeared on the face of the king who radiated determination.
Ali nodded once in response. She did not look back at the goddess. Her eyes were focused on what lay before her as she left the room, a king.
5
The Kaios Desert was arid and sunny that day.
As searing rays of sunlight poured down, thousands of soldiers marched through swirling heat hazes.
The Gazoob Wasteland was a rocky desert region where the borders of Shalzad, Warsa, and Israfan all met. Though it was rocky, that did not mean it was not also a desert. Most importantly, there was a place in the Gazoob Wasteland with even terrain and unobstructed views that made it a perfect battlefield. And the armies of Shalzad and Warsa were both marching toward that location.
"Prince Aram's loyal retainer, Jafar, has arrived!"
"Jafar, sir! So you came, too!"
The soldiers led by the old general joined the forces from Shalzad that had answered the call.
Finally gathering up for the first time after the capital had fallen, the Shalzad army's morale was high. The signal that Prince Aram had risked himself to send out had revived their spirits, and about twenty thousand troops were currently making their way to the battlefield.
"So! Where is Prince Aram?! Where is the next sun to illuminate the hearts of all Shalzad?!"
"…About that, well…he has yet to be seen…" "What?!"
However, the all-important Ali herself was nowhere to be found in the Gazoob region. And not just her. The Warsa army was yet to be seen, either, despite the reports indicating they had already departed from the capital. At the very least they were not anywhere visible from the Shalzad army's current position.
Jafar and the triumphant Shalzad forces froze at the soldier's report as the dry desert wind blew through their camp.
"Advance! The Shalzad army must have gathered and deployed along the Gazoob Wasteland! At most there will be twenty thousand of them! Against our force of eighty thousand, that's little more than a breeze!"
Around that time, the Warsa army was approaching the Sindh Expanse. It was a pure sand desert that enclosed the Gazoob Wasteland. Their supreme commander, Gorza, had split the host of eighty thousand into five different divisions before they clashed with the enemy.
"Surround their army both to insure they don't advance into Warsa, and to make sure they can't flee into Israfan! Warriors of Warsa, this is where we crush the last of Shalzad's resistance!"
"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The main division raised a thundering battle cry and the second, third, fourth, and reserve divisions spread across the dunes roared in response. The soldiers of Shalzad had only just reformed their army, so their chain of command would not be consolidated yet. That was where Warsa would strike.
Gorza's plan was logical and reasonable, clear evidence of his competence as a commander. However—precisely because of that, he could predict it.
"Sir! Enemy at twelve o'clock!" "What?! How many!"
On both the right and left flanks, there was a commotion spreading among the units at the edges of the formation as soldiers raised the alarm. The officers in charge of those units looked around, wondering if their strategy had been figured out when each of them saw it.
"Th-the thing is…you can't even call it a force, sir…"
As their subordinates reported, it was not an army nor a smaller unit launching a surprise attack. It was just one person. Or rather four people.
One report of a white elf, one of a dark elf, one of a catman, and one of a set of four prums appearing in front of the second, third, fourth, and reserve divisions.
—Who could have predicted this? The gathering of Shalzad's army was, in fact, just bait. The true final battle would not be in the wasteland but in the Sindh Expanse.
Eight followers would take on an army of eighty thousand.
As the Warsa troops looked on, dumbfounded, Hedin, who had devised all of this, pushed his glasses up,
"The preparations are all complete. Now to exterminate them. Leave none alive," he declared
The adventurers readied themselves for battle, and immediately after that, the rout began.
"Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh?!"
The war began with a scream.
An enormous cloud of sand wafted—no, exploded into the air. Seeing the cascade of sand, the commander in charge of the left flank raised his voice.
"Wh-what's happening?!"
"The second division is being attacked!"
"A sneak attack by Shalzad?! How many are there?!"
At those words, the soldier's voice trembled as he responded, "I-it's one person!"
"…What?"
Not one division or even one squad. One person. The commander could not believe his ears as a terrified report rang out.
"We're being bombarded by a single elf!"
"Struggle for eternity, indestructible soldiers of lightning."
Just a single stanza was chanted. The white elf was unleashing a torrent of magic with a super-short cast specialized for quick attacks.
"Caurus Hildr."
A rain of white lightning fell on the battlefield. Despite being a super- short cast spell, an enormous number of lightning orbs devastated the Warsa forces. Each ball was the size of a human's head. It was a thunderstorm of certain death.
The deluge of lightning was unavoidable, and the soldiers could do nothing but be blown away by it, their armor shattering as the electricity scorched their bodies.
"Don't scream and don't move. It messes with my aiming and lowers the efficiency. How irritating."
Hedin continued his fusillade of magic as he muttered to himself. He was rapidly casting his magic calmly, coolly, and mercilessly.
"This is why I despise dealing with trifling people. You fools are always messing with my careful calculations."
Deployed across the clear desert plain, the ten-thousand-strong second division was in utter disarray. All because of a single elf foolishly barring the way, unleashing a storm of magic capable of erasing hundreds of troops at once. The lightning balls seemed like a rain of arrows as it split the division straight down the middle like a hot knife through butter. The crazed symphony of thunder even blasted away the sand, causing the Warsa force's formation to collapse almost immediately.
To a falcon overlooking the scene from the air, it was clearly visible. The magic attack left a giant gash in the ground where Warsa's second division was deployed, like a dragon leaving a swath of destruction in its wake.
"Though most are cowards who cry out and try to flee, there are also
warriors who wield a reckless valor and charge. Fear and excitement. Drown in the winds of battle, all of you slaves to the paradox of battle."
Hedin mercilessly bathed in magic those mercenaries who turned and fled, and just as readily fired off a thunderclap to incinerate those tragically gallant warriors who charged forward to allow their comrades to escape.
Lowering his right arm, which held his rhomphaia, he held out his left arm and cast his magic. The rhomphaia boasted a long blade and a hilt designed to resemble a holy tree. Its name was Dizaria. Hedin's first-tier weapon was both an excellent polearm while also serving as a staff to boost magic power.
"You will all be routed just the same, so at least maintain some discipline, you failures."
Cries and screams went up all around. Hedin did not allow them any opening to approach him. His single-handed unending barrage crushed every charge the enemy mustered and incinerated any in the rear who attempted to retaliate with their own magic.
From the moment they had been caught off guard while spread out across an expanse of sand dunes where they could be seen clearly, they had had all their options taken away from them. It was impossible to have a unit stealthily sneak up on him from behind or pull off any other surprise attack. Those elven eyes, that race famed as fairy marksmen, caught every squad that attempted any covert movements and slammed them with another ball of thunder.
"What is ha—…What kind of monster is heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?!" The general in charge of the division cried out in unbridled panic.
Several messengers bearing more confusion reported in. Bombarded by that torrent of reports, he was the only person on that side of the battlefield who knew exactly what was happening. Every single person with a rank of squad leader or higher was being erased from the battle. The enemy possessed a terrifying, demonic eye—and by fully utilizing that keen insight that could interpret the miniscule ebbs and flows of the battlefield, their foe was annihilating the entire chain of command with sickening precision.
There was nothing more pitiful than an animal that had lost its head. The orders being sent to each unit became meaningless and the surviving soldiers had become little more than helpless targets. The aftershocks of their rising fear only exacerbated the meaningless deaths.
Precise marksmanship. Incomparable accuracy. And a command crueler
than anyone's. The white elf was a ruthless king who looked down on a force of thousands as he slaughtered them with lightning strikes.
"Ah—"
A second later, the moment the wall of soldiers being shredded by his magic started to thin out, a magic blast mercilessly filled the general's field of view with impenetrable white. Consumed by the flash of light, he readily departed the battlefield that was swirling with screams and despair.
Having been obliterated by a lightning lance, that general was actually exceedingly lucky. Thanks to that, he was able to pass on without experiencing the suffering of losing a limb or the intense pain of having his skin scorched by a bolt of lightning.
"Shooting off magic everywhere as if I didn't know any better…This may be the pinnacle of boorishness, but I suppose it can't be helped." Hedin was just calmly talking to himself as the soldiers' cries filled the air. "Who in their right mind would face a force of ten thousand head-on, after all? Extermination via magic is the most efficient method. This way at least minimizes the annoyance."
He spoke as if he was explaining the most obvious of facts as he nocked yet another magic arrow to loose, continuing to lay waste to the barbarians.
He did not allow anyone to flee the field. By the time a unit took a step that might have led them to safety, he had already shot off another bolt of lightning that landed right where they were moving toward. Hedin was very precisely and carefully making use of his mind even then, enveloping the battlefield in a lightning barrier to trap the Warsa army.
The moment they realized that no one would be allowed to retreat from the sand dunes that had come alive with lightning, the soldiers finally started to call out, pleading for their lives with no concern for how unsightly or pathetic it appeared. And because of those offensive cries, for the very first time, Hedin's face, which had stayed calm throughout the entire massacre, finally changed.
"Why in the world…Why in the world did you seriously think your cries would reach anyone who would listen? You seem to have gravely misunderstood your situation. Who would allow even one of you to live?"
As bolts of lightning crackled in the air, a single core member of Resheph Familia—a Level-2 man—saw the elf's lips moving and turned pale.
"A faction of people close to you cast aside their humanity and defiled the
Lady's property. You dishonored the goddess's love in that oasis town. You covetously desecrated a sacred domain that must never be touched!"
After Leodo had been razed, Hedin had buried the corpses of the former slaves, Freya's property, with full honors. He understood. He knew full well that their dignity had been trampled upon. He knew that every last one of those slaves who were being sold for their looks and abilities had passed from the mortal realm in the depths of despair.
This was the obvious result. Axiomatic. If Warsa were inclined to laugh and brush off such things as merely the vagaries of war, then it was only natural that they would go on a spree of pillaging and rape. But given their position, there was no reason for a high-minded elf like Hedin to turn a blind eye to their behavior. Once he had sworn to become an executioner, there was nothing left for those soldiers beyond every last one of them being wiped off the face of the planet.
"You dare claim you are without sin? That you weren't responsible? Do you take me for a fool? You reek of the same stench. You have already embraced that same sadism and carry that same beastly stench!"
A blazing rage was ignited by his goddess's defiled love. And faced with that conflagration of wrath and spirit, the Warsa forces near Hedin even forgot their thoughts of escaping as the blood drained from their faces, and they despaired, quivering in abject terror.
Hedin's coral eyes narrowed sharply, and the next moment the corners of his eyes flared up as he clenched his glasses, tearing them from his face and shattering them in his clenched fist.
"There is no reason that I of all people would overlook such a flawed world!!"
The fairy's fury. The intellectual mask that Hedin wore fell away as he revealed his true self, unleashing the storm of murderous rage that he had not allowed to erupt before.
"And on top of all that, you hunted down and pushed that girl to such lengths—if I don't impose the true meaning of havoc upon you myself, then how will I face my mistress or that young king!"
His loyalty to his goddess and the indignation he felt for that girl whose country had been ravaged. All of those emotions exploded as the fairy transformed into an apostle of destruction.
Hedin roared his duty.
"Your sentence is death! Barbarians of the desert!"
"…That's the kind of thing Hedin would say," Hegni murmured to himself.
"No—nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
Countless corpses were scattered all around him. The people screaming in fear were, of course, the soldiers of Warsa. He was the right wing of the assembled army. Facing off against the third division, which consisted of another ten thousand men, Hegni, a magic swordsman just like his old foe Hedin, had chosen not a long-range magic battle but a hand-to-hand, head-on brawl.
"But unlike him, my magic doesn't have a very good range and isn't nearly as convenient…"
As the soldiers cowered before him, he stood there, immersed in his own world. The dark elf swordsman lowered his eyes, hiding his mouth behind a high collar as he muttered quietly.
"…This is just more my style…"
And then, he raised his sinister black sword in one hand and caressed the surface of it with his other hand. It was a first-tier weapon, Victim Abyss. Hegni's most trusted weapon, his comrade in battle, it was a jet-black blade with a jagged lightning-bolt shape to it and was capable of unleashing an incomparably sharp slash. It was a superior-grade cursed blade made for him by a certain hexer that boasted an ability to extend its slash in exchange for consuming more of his stamina.
The black blade that was seemingly forged from condensed darkness caused the brown desert to absorb pools of crimson blood, staining it red.
"…Hee-hee, hee-hee-hee-hee, your chance encounter with my pitch-black blade has sealed your fates…The fiery sands flutter and crimson flies…My blade calls for sacrifices. Meaning…y-y-you will die."
He had preemptively slashed his way into the center of the enemy's formation. He was secretly scared of all the eyes staring at him as he tried to explain himself. What he had intended to say was something along the lines of "I'm the one assigned to deal with your group, so I'm going to exterminate you. I've already broken through and completed the initial skirmish, so please prepare yourselves," but what actually came out of his mouth was quite
different.
And faced with that, the soldiers of Warsa responded pitifully. "Wh-who is this guy?!"
"I wondered who the hell was slashing at us, but this guy is crazy!" "Why's he grinning like that while babbling like a lunatic?!"
"He's an elf, but that grin is like a damn ogre's!"
"He looks like he might start licking his sword any second now!" "Seriously, what the hell is he even saying?!"
His incomprehensible rambling did a fantastic job of aggravating his already poor communication ability, and the ghastly grin was a consequence of his face tensing up from the nervousness, but the storm of comments from the Warsa soldiers stung Hegni, who by any measure was the absolute strongest there.
Argh, I can't take it. I want to die.
So the pitiful dark elf hid face behind his deep collar and slashed away as his cheeks burned in shame.
"Guaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh?!"
He flew into an intense sword dance. His black sword became a flash of light, slicing through several soldiers at once like it was nothing. Their shield walls, ready spears, swinging swords, and everything else in the blade's path were all cut down. Each swing of his sword composed a rondo of cries and suffering. His black cloak danced through the air behind him as if he were a conductor leading a gruesome orchestra.
There was no darkness to hide his shame or his silliness. It was not night like when he had fought before. The desert sun shone bright, exposing Hegni's wild sword dance to the world. To the enemy forces, it was an incarnation of terror, and to Hegni it was the equivalent of a hellish one-man performance atop a stage for all to see.
Argh, they're watching me. They're all looking at meeeee. Arrrrgh, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't. Why did I ever become a first-tier adventurer? I don't need the attention, just let me sink into the darkness to fight! Or even just become the darkness itself. Why didn't I become an assassin? I can't do it, this is too hard, I just want to hide in the forest, aaaaarrrrrgh. I just wanna lay my head in Lady Freya's lap—no, the other way around, I want her to lay her head on my lap.
He was facing ten thousand enemies. It was a concentration of gazes
unlike any he had experienced before. Unlike monsters in the Dungeon, they were people with intelligence, which just made it all the worse for Hegni, causing the incoherent thoughts in his head to mix and merge. While he was performing a cruel dance of blades, his stress was threatening to break past his limits.
I can't do it…I guess I have to use it.
Because of that, Hegni fled to his magic.
"Draw thine sword, King of the fiendish blades."
He plunged his black sword into the sand before him, and a black magic circle appeared around it, then expanded as he closed his eyes and began chanting fluently.
"Sacrifice reason and offer up blood. Slaughter all until the feast is finished."
The soldiers did not even have time to defend themselves as they watched in shock. The dark elf's short cast ended, and he spoke the name of his spell.
"Dáinsleif."
The black magic circle at his feet shone and then shattered. The fragments of lights were absorbed into his body. A veil of light seemed to envelop him completely, but it disappeared in an instant as he slowly opened his eyes. And then he suddenly spoke:
"—You villains who have acted as you pleased in this desert, offer up your blood. Only through that may there be forgiveness for the grave treason you have committed."
It was a firm, resolute voice and menacing attitude entirely at odds with how he had been acting before, which just confused the soldiers even more because of the sudden change in demeanor. His eyes did not betray any hidden insecurities. Instead they were raised sharply, like a true swordsman's. Hegni's magic, Dáinsleif. It had the unusual effect of modifying his personality. It was counted as a rare magic, one that allowed Hegni to embody the mental image he had of himself. It was the key to the ritual that allowed the weak-willed, nervous elf to become a true warrior. It bore a resemblance to a certain prum hero's fighting spirit buff magic, but Dáinsleif did not have an effect that increased his status. It merely manipulated his
personality, making it a seemingly plain ability among a rather flashy class of magics.
"Speak your final words should you have any. There shan't be mercy."
However, his magic was so specialized in manipulating his psyche that it surpassed autosuggestion and was a genuine modification of his self. Its effect literally turned his personality and vocabulary into that of another person, effectively making his ideal self a reality.
It was a magic that summoned the strongest possible version of himself that had grown out of an obsessive self-hatred. The moment he cast that spell, Hegni transformed into a merciless, cruel, murderous, and domineering warrior king, like a cursed sword that once drawn could not be sheathed until it had satisfied itself by shedding the blood of countless people.
"—Shuffle off this mortal coil, rabble. Unseemly tributes who have been forsaken by the goddess's love, you are best dead."
In an instant, Hegni disappeared. The desert sand exploded up into the air from his unexpected step as he dashed forward, cutting down an entire platoon before the enemies even realized he had moved.
"Ahh—Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
That was how the true banquet of despair began. Having activated Dáinsleif, Hegni had rid himself of every last shred of mercy. The limiters inhibiting his full strength had been removed by magic. He transformed into a man-eating fiend that even his old foe Hedin would say, "That rogue is the strongest among all elves when it comes to hand-to-hand combat."
Moving like a black sliver through the soldiers' ranks, he struck each and every one down, leaving none alive as he created a storm of slashes. The soldiers of the third division who saw him were more terrified than the soldiers on any other battlefield, because what they saw was the personification of a demon blade. A manifestation of death itself that paused only to dedicate more blood and viscera. The soldiers understood it instinctively as they cried and their teeth chattered, until a split second later, they became the next offerings to his sword.
Hegni's title, Dáinsleif, was indeed derived from the name of his magic.
It was the greatest compliment paid him by the fanatical and intense fans he had among the gods, in honor of the way he transformed from a comical dark knight into a true warrior king of darkness.
"There are many tributes this time…but be at ease, I have plenty of
slashes to dole out. This blade of mine shall mark your grave."
In the name of exterminating the whole army, the evilest fairy resumed the massacre.
"General Orcas! The enemy has appeared!" a soldier reported.
"What?! What scale and from which direction?!" Orcas roared out with a booming voice.
As the clamor of battle rang out all around the Sindh Expanse, General Orcas, the aged general who was a veteran of many battles against Shalzad, was at the very rear of the formation, leading the reserves. They had twenty thousand troops who were supposed to react as the battle developed and support the main divisions as needed. It was a position of significant importance in battle.
The enemy's tactician even saw through the existence of our reserve forces and had troops lying in wait.
He suspected that the composition of their formation had been leaked to the enemy, since other divisions had already encountered surprise attacks that had been devastating enough that the cries could be heard from beyond the dunes even before the reports arrived.
"A bombardment carried out by a single person" and "A single swordsman cutting down more than half a force of ten thousand" and other absurd reports were flying all around, so he knew that the battle was enshrouded by the fog of war. However, his suspicions were overturned when learned of his own situation.
"There is one person each to our north, south, east, and west, sir!" "...…Huh?"
"Ummm, that is…well, there is one person in each direction, sir. In front and behind, and left and right. There are four armored prums in total…"
The well-trained soldier was at a loss for word for once as he struggled to clarify his report.
Orcas sat atop his camel as he trained his eyes in the directions the solider indicated—and he saw them, just as reported. At the summit of the sand dunes in the cardinal directions around his force of twenty thousand, there stood four short prums wielding a spear, hammer, battle-ax, and greatsword respectively.
"Hu—…Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Has Shalzad lost its mind?! Just four people to face off against an army of twenty thousand?!"
Orcas could hardly believe his eyes as his battle-hardened body shook from laughter and several people around him also broke out into guffaws.
No matter how strong they are, we're a force of soldiers and mercenaries who have all received Falna. Even if they could take out one thousand each, three thousand more would easily overwhelm them. And they're prums! The weakest of all the demi-humans! What a joke!
"What of it?! Do they intend us to act as if we've been surrounded by a force of just four people?! Don't make me laugh, fools!"
A wave of scornful laughter spread from the tough old general to the surrounding troops. Needless to say, they had let their guard down.
—If there was any miscalculation in Orcas's analysis, it was that he had not known that his opponents, despite being prums, were considered possibly the strongest prums in the world, four of the precious few first-tier adventurers in the world, members of the Freya Familia.