Chapter 33: Uhhh, invasion plans. Yeah, I guess we're doing it…

Upper Fire Month, 19th Day, 600 AGG

"We should exit the Pass by tomorrow's end," Ithit blocked the sun with his hand, casting his gaze out towards the horizon. "Save for any unpleasant surprises."

Varush didn't reply, busy as he was wrapping his wounds with bandages. It would be a trivial task for Ithit to heal such minor injuries, but they had both silently agreed that his mana was better served elsewhere. The Buffalo Minotaur was far too strong to be afflicted by mundane infections anyways.

"Going through Shatterstone with just the two of us," Ithit snorted and kneeled down on the rocky ground. "Our brethren would think us insane."

"We live in interesting times," Varush rumbled, checking over his body for any lacerations he might've missed. "Thus, we must resort to unconventional paths. Are you good to go?"

"Give me another hour," Ithit chewed on his provisions. "My mana should recover enough to deal with another few encounters by then."

Varush wordlessly nodded and went to clean his warhammer.

Despite how powerful he was, traversing Shatterstone Pass in such a small group was no easy feat. There were many fields that he lacked talent in, detection for example, that countless enemies had taken advantage of.

'That one Earth Elemental,' he recalled with dry amusement. 'Didn't even notice it was there until it was almost on top of us.'

Earth Elementals hiding in the walls of the mountains and the depths of the ground, Wyverns watching from their distant perks, Trolls and Minotaur barbarians waiting in ambush within their rocky dens; truly, Shatterstone—and that wasn't even mentioning the Saramati Mountain Range as a whole—was a death trap for anyone weaker than he. Small wonder that the first thing the Council had chosen to do after forming a foothold in the human kingdom was to extend the range of the waygates.

"Those Wyverns have been following us for a while," Varush idly remarked, pointing at a cove where the winged lizards had hidden themselves. "Surprised they haven't tried to swoop down on us yet."

"They saw how we butchered those that tried," Ithit sneered in disgust. "And have decided to wait until we are sufficiently weakened. Vultures, the lot of them."

"Guess they'll be waiting for a while then," Varush tried to joke, only to elicit an eye-roll from his companion. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"You're awfully calm for someone marching towards their death," Ithit snapped in annoyance. "We'll be stepping foot within their borders in a few days; I can't see our lives extending much further beyond that."

"May as well enjoy our last few days of life then," Varush pulled out his own container of provisions. It was odd, how he had never been more sure of himself than he did now. He felt like a Chakora that finally knew where it was meant to soar. "Besides, there really wasn't a need for you to throw away your life alongside me, you know?"

"The only other recourse would be to run, and it would be a futile effort to bring all my clansmen to safety," Ithit flicked a stone across the ground. "Where would we even run to? If the Republic falls, there is no safe place for them to take refuge—not if the new matriarch of Clan Vadh decides to chase them down. Better to beg for mercy while we still have the chance than when she's already made up her mind."

"Fair," Varush accepted. "It was a worthless question. My apologies."

Ithit grunted and the two fell into a somber silence.

'I haven't ever seen these angels before,' Varush suddenly realized. 'All I had to go off were the descriptions from Ithit and the other survivors.'

The Direwolf Orthrous made it painfully clear that even Varush would not stand a chance before the mightiest of the winged summons. And for there to be multiple beings of that strength and potentially higher…

He shook his head in grim humor. The Republic really hadn't stood a chance at all the moment the new Vadh matriarch had pushed themselves into the war.

'Thousands were still sent to that human fortress city,' Varush's heart was filled with shame. 'I should have said something. Spoke up about the futility of the maneuver. But—'

He did nothing. He had let them march onwards to a fiery end without a single word to turn them from their path.

'Faa'zh. Pallavi. What were your last moments like? We'd never gotten along, but I pray that your deaths were painless.'

This was his rightful duty then, to atone for his mistakes in letting events unfold in the way that they had.

"Let's go," Ithit broke his line of thought. "Something has been stalking us for a while now—something besides the Wyverns."

"And you told me just now because?"

"I wasn't sure," the Direwolf Orthrous rose to his feet and waved his staff around. "『Summon Nature's Ally Fourth』, 『Summon Nature's Ally Fourth』."

Two Earth Elementals slightly shorter than Varush built themselves up from the stone around them like a statue crumbling in reverse. The bulky summons of jagged stone trudged forward, placing themselves near the druid.

What manner of monster would want to confront them? They'd torn through every enemy they came across in minutes; did it really think it stood a chance?

How long had it been watching them without being noticed?

'If it's making itself known,' Varush raised his warhammer, a chill running through his spine. 'Then it believes now is the best chance it'll get at taking us down.'

The Wyverns were gone. He hadn't noticed that they'd flown away.

"It's coming," the Earth Elementals raised their arms in whatever constituted a combat ready stance for their kind. "『Bear's Endurance』, 『Bull's Strength』, 『Cat's Grace』."

Strength surged upwards from Varush's core, flooding his entire body with druidic might. It was a heady feeling—a younger him would've thought himself invincible, but now he feared it might not be enough.

One Earth Elemental shattered into pieces. Varush only barely caught the blur of the monster, narrowly blocking a strike that surely would have pulped his head with the handle of his warhammer.

As it was, the blow was already strong enough to force him back a few steps even with all the enhancement magic reinforcing him.

'I didn't even have time to apply a defensive Martial Art,' the ball of… fur? If the mysterious entity was able to maintain that sort of speed over an extended period of time then they were in trouble. 'It's as fast as Pallavi was.'

"『Instant Counter』, 『Flow Acceleration』," Varush gritted his teeth as the Martial Arts took their toll on his stamina. Senses sharpened, he was finally able to get a clear view of their foe: an eyeless ball of white fur the size of his fists and a wide, gaping maw filled with maliciously sharp teeth.

'What in the name of Isholranth is this thing?' Varush knocked it away from the druid and their remaining Elemental with an upward sweep of his Crusher. 'Was the burst of speed from earlier limited in uses per-day? Or is it a skill that has conditions like needing to successfully perform an ambush? Of all the monsters I've seen in my life, none were as strange as this one.'

The fuzzy ball crashed on its back, throwing up shards of stone as the ground cracked from the force of the impact. It quickly flipped upright and launched itself towards Varush with a visceral snarl that could freeze the blood of a weaker person.

"Get," Varush shoved the head of his Chaukmati Crusher into the ball's mouth and whipped the warhammer, sending the little monster flying into the air. "Back!"

"『Fungal Hold』," tendrils of mycelium latched onto the monster's fur, noticeably slowing it as the fungus progressed across the surface of its hide. "My mana isn't going to hold out!"

"Noted," Varush grunted, withstanding an earth-shaking headbutt from the furball. "It's resisting your—spell!"

Where had this calamity come from? Had they simply been unlucky to run into it? If it ever made it to a Republic settlement…

Varush's eyes turned steely in determination. The ball of fur needed to die here, and it needed to die now. Humans and angels could possibly be reasoned with; the monstrosity before him could not.

"『Ability—" the furball roared, a bloodcurdling sound that stunned him in place for a split second, forcibly canceling the activation of his Martial Art.

'I got too careless,' Varush shook off the fear effect but not before the furball switched targets, aiming for the comparatively weaker druid instead. 'Against an unknown monster like this, I need to show more caution. Gather as much information as I can on its strengths and weaknesses before landing a decisive blow.'

He managed to knock it away again with the assistance of a timely『Ability Boost』, but not before the beast was able to carve deep gouges into the remaining Earth Elemental with its oversized bite—the sluggish summon floundering about in the face of a superior force.

'We'll be in a pinch if anything else decides to ambush us now,' Varush grimaced as he narrowly avoided being disemboweled, the furball's knife-like teeth leaving thin traces of red on his skin. 'Ithit doesn't have much mana left, and we're not going to be able to run away in its own territory.'

"『Reverberating Impact』!" He knocked the monster away again—further this time—and sent it flying into and through an upright stone monolith. "Run!"

Ithit faltered for a moment, pride warring against practicality, before he nodded and took off with the damaged Earth Elemental in tow. Varush tiredly smiled; fighting the furball was too difficult if he had to defend the druid at the same time.

"Just you and me now," the Buffalo Minotaur murmured as he stared down the growling mass of fluff, feeling more than a tad ridiculous. "What? Not confident in fighting someone who can rival your strength?"

'It'll try to get past me,' Varush kept up a facade of confidence even while he kept a wary eye on the monster. 'Take out the spellcaster that's run dry and continuously harass me to the point of death afterwards.'

"How troublesome," Varush lowered his center of balance, bracing for another rush. "To have to run into you now of all times."

'『Greater Ability Boost』.'

He didn't know if the beast could understand him, but it looked significantly more enraged than before. That was good. Angry things made more mistakes.

'『Physical Boost』.'

"Hrk!" Varush soaked a charge from the furball, taking the opportunity to land another hit with his warhammer. "『Heavy Blow』,『Reverberating Impact』!"

A crater formed then deepened, the twin impacts cracking and shattering their footing as Varush grunted in exertion. The furball still wasn't down; just what the hell was this thing?!

Before it could bounce back from the blow, Varush gave it a well-placed strike against its side, launching the hateful furball into the face of a cliff.

'Getting tired,' Varush shook his head and snorted, pushing away the accumulating fatigue. There would be time to rest later, and if not… well, exhaustion wasn't a concern when one was dead. 'Isholranth, how tough is this thing?'

"You can't win," he tapped the ground with his warhammer and channeled a skill into his voice. It only worked in single combat situations and if the foe was already inclined to flee, but perhaps that last exchange put the fear of the gods into the monster. "『Leave or die.』"

The furball roared again in response, but they both knew it was at a disadvantage—the last crushing attack had left it too wounded to continue. It bounced back and forth for a few more seconds, eyelessly glaring at Varush with a frightening amount of hatred, before dashing up a sheer cliff face as easily as a centaur might across the grasslands.

"Gods," he released a heavy sigh. This whole excursion was doomed to be perilous from start to end it seemed. Even now, more opportunistic monsters had crawled out of the crags, thinking him to be weakened prey.

'Better clear them out now lest they decide to haunt us for the rest of our journey.'

As Varush brought his hammer back up, he had the sinking feeling that their troubles had yet to truly start.

'Damn furball.'

"Haaa…" Friere got up from the ground and worked out the cricks in his body. Due to limited space in the barracks, he and Romas had rolled some dice to determine who would sleep on the ground.

Naturally, Freire lost—though he was sure Romas had cheated somehow. He'd find out how someday.

Maybe. Probably not.

"Must be nice," he scowled at the conked out nobleman laying on his bed. "To just drink away all your problems and let other people deal with the aftermath."

Somewhere far away, a raven-haired woman sneezed.

"Ah, you're back," Romas walked in and leaned against the doorway. "Woke up damn late. Everybody else already left to get some grub."

"Could've woke me up, you know?" Freire grouched. "Marwon's going to be mad as hell now."

"Eh," the duke's heir shrugged nonchalantly. "They ain't so tight on discipline right now, with all the celebrations and shit goin' on. You'll be fine."

"Fuck," he rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache form. "But we still have patrols, don't we?"

"We're off-shift today. How's Videl doin', by the way?" Romas nudged the comatose man with a hand. "Yup. Out cold."

"Way to state the obvious," Freire snarked as he picked up his sheets from the ground. "What else is new? Waking up to the Queen's shitty drawings—tch, nevermind. That doesn't work anymore."

"Lots of things have gone and changed, huh?" Romas's eyes unfocused. "The Queen, the kingdom… us."

"Don't make it sound so ominous," Freire frowned before looking down on the slumbering nobleman. "Think we should throw some cold water on him?"

"Poor guy's been through enough," Romas pulled him away. "You head on and grab some food; I'll stick around and wait for him to wake up."

"If you wanted to skip out on patrol, you could've just said so."

"Smartass."

"Dumbass."

"Just hurry up and get your ass outta—"

"By the gods," Videl's gunk-filled eyes cracked open. "Could the two of you shut the hell up?"

"Look who woke up," Freire snarked. Finally, another target for his bad mood appeared. "Had a nice nap?"

"Piss off," Videl threw the covers off himself and stumbled off the bed, rubbing his bleary eyes as he did so. "Fucking hell, did I really pass out in the middle of the streets? Need to get back to my place, shit…"

'Why are all the aristocrats I meet like this?' Freire contemplated his current situation with dismay. 'Or is it just nobles from the Draconic Kingdom? I wonder what it's like in Baharuth or Re-Estize—those guys haven't had to deal with even a fraction of the crap we've been through…'

"Don't you live near Caldevera?" Romas needled his grumpy peer. "What're you all the way out here for?"

"Training some 'administrators,'" Videl sneered. "Bunch of fucking spares to help with managing the eastern desmenses."

"That's good, right?" Freire scrunched his face in confusion. "Get more people to help you all with setting this mess straight."

"Being a noble isn't that easy… what was your name?" Before Freire could respond, Videl continued. "Anyways, it's a lifetime of training and studying. You don't just—fucking become a noble with a little bit of coaching. Train a couple of spares as much as you damn want, but they're never going to be as good as a proper heir."

"Don't got any land to inherit," Romas quietly agreed. "Angel's resurrectin' most of the nobles anyways, yeah? Guess I can see where you're comin' from."

"I mean, Queen Oriculus would've considered all of that already, right?" Freire was certain that there was more to the new policies regarding the employment of spares than what was being brought up. "Look at the cities; they're already getting back to their feet. Sure, things are still a little touch and go, but we should wait a bit and see how things turn out."

"Hmph," Videl reluctantly grunted in agreement. "Maybe. But even the Queen can make mistakes. Just look at the fucking beastmen she's allowing to live in Caldevera."

"That's what her advisors are for. Plus, the beastmen are only there for temporary work while rebuilding is still going on."

"Ha… forget about the damn demis," Videl massaged the bridge of his nose. "Now, let me ask you this: would you want to be the person to tell the Queen her idea is stupid?"

"Why not?" Freire felt his hackles rise. "She's not the kind of person who can't take criticism."

And for what it's worth, I… I'm sorry for everything that's happened.

Freire sincerely believed that kind of expression couldn't come from a person who was unable to accept their own failures.

"It's not about her," Videl impatiently explained. "Queen Oriculus can be a fucking saint for all I care, but with all these," he gestured at the angels flying about. "Angels around, nobody's going to have the damn balls to say 'no' to her."

"Those belong to the Lady of Wings though."

"They may as well be the Queen's," Videl muttered to himself. "Her Majesty certainly commands them like they are."

"Think the Queen's being coerced or charmed?" Romas interjected. "And the Lady of Wings is usin' her like a puppet or somethin'?"

"She's being charmed alright," Videl barked out a laugh. "Just not in the way you think she is."

The trio fell silent. All of them had heard the rumors that floated around concerning Queen Oriculus's relationship with the kingdom's savior—in fact, it would be surprising if someone hadn't.

'Yeah, Katavaar brings up the betting pool he joined all the damn time… Wait, isn't it sort of unfair now that he got sent to Oriculia Castle—Ahhh, fuck this.'

"I don't think people are too scared to speak out," Freire decided to pull the conversation back to its original topic. "You got people griping all the time about their workload." Like you, he silently added to himself. "If they were really worried about how Queen Oriculus would react, they would keep all their complaints to themselves. Not like she couldn't find out who's complaining if she really wanted to…"

"Fair," Videl straightened out his clothes with a sigh. "We'll see. For the kingdom's sake, I hope you're right."

Parting words given, the nobleman brushed past them and exited the barracks.

"Not even a 'thanks?'" Freire scoffed after Videl was out of earshot. "Your friends suck, Romas."

"Never said we were friends," Romas punched him in the shoulder. "Give him a break; he's been through a ton of shit."

"Right," his heart twinged with guilt. "Right. That, he has."

"Anyways, go get some food and head to your post, man," Romas donned a shit-eating grin. "Captain's already pissed that you're late."

"Fuck. You."