Chapter 89: im really good at eyeballing spell-radius now (praise me)
Lower Fire Month, 23rd Day, 600 AGG
"Ever seen an Alraune grow to be this big?"
"Yeah," Zarel grunted and helped a soldier lift a sawed-off section of a root appendage. "Today."
"Just trying to make conversation," Giulia pouted. Marith kept an ear open, but didn't participate in the byplay. "Dealing with『Suggestion』was a pain, huh?"
"…" Zarel ignored her this time, even going so far as to walk away and join another group cutting apart Magralel's vines. Strange, how the monster's corpus proved incredibly resilient in life, but its corpse soft and limp in death.
The blonde shook her head in mock disbelief. "Wow. It wasn't that tough."
"Bad matchup for us though," Marith pointed out, leaving musings of heteromorph physiology to the Institute's researchers and sages. "Alraunes already have magic resistance; no surprise a lord like Magralel would be difficult for us to handle by ourselves."
"We lost a lot of soldiers," Giulia's expression softened as her gaze followed Zarel. "But that's expected, right? Victory can't be bought without sacrifice."
Despite voicing so callous a statement, the sympathy his comrade sought to convey was crystal-clear. If only she would convey it to the person she was worrying over…
"Indeed. It can't be helped when the enemies of Humanity are this powerful," with training, humans could slowly bridge the chasm between them and those who were born strong, but this world was uninterested in allowing time for such luxuries. Therefore, conquering regions the Theocracy hadn't previously suppressed often came at a hefty blood-price.
"Squad Seven and Six killed the Peryton Lord apparently," Giulia changed topic. Just as well: contemplating the frailty of humans wasn't conducive to the Scripture's current operations. They could do so later in the embrace of an actual temple. "Wish I was there to see it."
Marith watched the Theocracy's faithful haul away the Alraune Lord's mutilated body. Monster remains were usually sent to both merchants and the Research Institute, but something as valuable as a lord would almost always be entirely claimed by the Institute. "Seems our comrades have wreaked vengeance on your behalf."
"Like I would ever tell anyone outside our squad," she scoffed. "Would've nice to grab a feather or two—y'know, a keepsake. Show it to my future kids: 'Your mother once slayed a monster lord!' "
"Scripture operatives are sworn to secrecy," he dryly smiled. "Unless you want the hypothetical kids to see your head exploding."
"Killjoy."
"Better this way. People back home—well, we're the bulwark against the worst the world has to offer," a pair of soldiers good-naturedly teased their junior who had tripped over the limp root of an ordinary Alraune: Magralel's lesser. "Let them grow and enrich the Theocracy through other paths."
'Less life-threatening ones.'
"Must be nice, being able to have a choice," Marith shrugged in response. Those blessed with power were beholden to the country that cultivated their potential. "Damn Elf King needs to show his ugly mug so we can get outta here already…"
Giulia ran a hand through her disheveled hair in frustration. "I'm sick of getting bit by bugs all day! No washrooms, no corner store, no temperature control…"
'Those were your biggest concerns?' He guessed minor luxuries were tough to surrender when a person was accustomed to modern conveniences. "We're making decent progress. End of next year, or maybe this one, might see us at the gates of the elven capital."
Incredibly fast, considering the Theocracy had to pave and maintain the Earthen Road while simultaneously subjugating the surrounding hostiles.
"I don't think the elves have gates."
"Close enough," Marith coughed into a fist. "Without having to worry about beastmen crossing over to this side through the Crescent Lake, the army can focus its full attention on Evasha."
"They would do pretty well in this place, huh? Never heard of any bothering to sail across the Asturian Sound though."
He looked upwards, temporarily immersed in the vastness of the forest canopy. Did the demihumans think, and rightfully so, that the Draconic Kingdom had been the path of least resistance? Were they wary of the Theocracy?
The Elf King?
None of the elves they'd captured thus far knew much about their sovereign—a feat of incompetence that still astounded him—but the scraps they did have pointed towards the King possessing no shortage of personal prowess. Marith knew, oh he knew, that Commander Lauransan was withholding some critical information, and he'd bet anything that it was related to the Elf King.
How could the cause of the war be anything else? The subjugated elves didn't even know why the Theocracy was attacking. Hell, most of the Theocracy didn't know anything aside from vague, albeit vehement, declarations of being wronged by the elves.
"Who knows?" Marith chuffed. "Maybe the Elf King owns a godly relic. Maybe divine blood runs through his veins."
From who? The Demon Gods? Greed Kings? Neither were worth wracking his brain over—the slimmest possibility slowed the flow of blood to a chilling crawl.
"Right, of course," his comrade rolled her eyes. "And that's why we're still alive, yeah?"
Giulia had a point: if the Elf King was really that powerful, why hadn't he come out and ground them to dust yet? Was there some benefit in letting the Theocracy pillage his lands and enslave his citizenry? "Just a guess."
"Well, don't go to any betting rings when we're back home, ya hear?" She wagged a finger in his face. "That money's better off with lil ol' me."
"Vice-Captain will put you through the rounds if he ever finds you out of shape, Alessi."
"Blugh… what's the retirement age again?"
The very thought was unthinkable to him. After all, the better portion of Marith's life had been dedicated to the Holocaust Scripture.
Perhaps when his body was no longer able to keep up with the duties demanded of them. Perhaps sooner at the behest of Lord Surshana. Either way, a future beyond fighting beside his comrades, beyond protecting humanity in these brutal frontiers, was not one the gods deemed him to see.
Giulia yelped as he loudly clapped her over the shoulder.
"Today, if Vice-Captain finds out we've been slacking off," she stumbled in a failed attempt to tackle him to the ground. "Let's get back to work."
Gazef uncomfortably tugged at the collar of his shirt; the white article stretched a bit tightly against the skin. The fabric was amazingly soft and cool to the touch, but it clearly wasn't tailored to fit someone of his build—or status.
In fact, judging by the clothing he saw the nobles milling about the castle wear, Gazef could confidently say his present attire was absolutely unsuited for a commoner like himself.
Silky, pristine, whole and not holed: the contrast between what he currently wore and what he usually did was more startling than night and day. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford fine outfits with his considerable savings, but the need just never arose. Important events usually saw him in his standard armor anyhow.
Regardless of how Gazef felt, he'd have to repay Queen Oriculus and Lady Yuriko for the kindness bestowed upon him.
'I wonder… what would all of you say if I showed up like this in front of you fools?' The Warrior-Captain closed his eyes as visions of the Warrior Troop flashed across his mind. Dead now, thanks to foolish whims made in haste. 'Forgive me.'
Although perhaps he could petition Lady Yuriko to—
'No,' the blessing he had received was already impossible to repay. Exploiting the goodwill of benefactors would be detestable in his eyes and that of King Ramposa's. 'Asking for more is shameless. '
He knew how expensive Lady Aindra's resurrections were. How much more so a sacrament that could revive without requiring a body? Sure, the angel handed the incredible blessing out like candy at a festival, but that didn't lower its value by any means. 'Free' only added more weight to the guilt resting upon Gazef's shoulders.
"That was incredible, Sir Unglaus," Climb politely clapped, the young boy's restraint barely keeping his enthusiasm in check, as Brain bisected an apple in midair with a toothpick. "Were you using a Martial Art?"
Speaking of which, he wondered how the King was faring. From what Brain and Climb had to say, the world went insane in the few months following his death: E-Rantel facing an unprecedented disaster induced by Zurrernorn, E-Rantel taken over by the Empire—Jircniv didn't waste any time capitalizing on his death, and…
"Nope," Brain caught the pieces, cutting the two halves into eighths before unceremoniously dropping them onto a plate. "Basic swordplay, Climb."
And all the changes in the Draconic Kingdom. It always pained his heart to have rejected their overtures for reinforcements in the past, but being King Ramposa's personal guard came with responsibilities: ones that took priority over running off to the far east and stemming the demihuman tides.
"A toothpick though, Sir Unglaus…"
Although it seemed Lady Yuriko had that problem solved, he thought with a relieved smile. Too many in this world wasted their powers for selfish wants.
"Hm. Well, I'm sure the good Warrior-Captain could do better, eh?"
'I hope Queen Oriculus isn't exploiting her. She looked a little…' Like Climb, but without the worldliness that came with prolonged exposure to court. 'Dopey.'
"Oi, Stronoooff."
"Yes?" Brain's verbal prodding knocked him out of his idling. "Excuse my distraction, I was—"
"Thinking. Chewing things over in your head," the blue-haired swordsman tossed an apple slice to him. "Yeah, we know. Don't worry about paying me back; she wasn't taking any payment thanks to what that damn Royal Guard put in her head…"
"We should clear any misunderstandings," Gazef grimaced at the memory. He had no clue how his relationship with Brain could be misconstrued as some kind of lurid affair.
The Warrior-Captain paused. " 'Paying you back?' "
Brain didn't immediately respond, leaning backwards 'til the front legs of his chair were hanging in midair. Climb's eyes flicked to and fro as he straightened his spine, not allowing the somber mood to shake him. Come to think of it, even the angels hadn't been enough to ruffle the lad's feathers.
'Truly,' Gazef found the corners of his mouth curving upwards. He wondered if Princess Renner understood the value of what she had; though it was disheartening to know that the boy's affections were impossible to return given the chasmic gap in social standing. 'He's become a reliable boy—no, man.'
"It's nothing," Brain glowered. "Just didn't want you slipping out of a rematch. Couldn't have all my training go to waste because an idiot got himself assassinated."
"Even going as far as to become an Imperial Knight for this idiot's assassin," an airy wisp escaped past the lips. Who was he fooling? The nobles of Re-Estize were equally worthy of blame, though the memories of his and his men's demise continued to slip through grasping fingers. "Your drive is praiseworthy, Brain."
'If nothing else' went unsaid. By now, the three men in the room all knew about the banditry Brain Unglaus had fallen into after their loss at Gazef's blade in the tournament. What was done could not be undone, and while he should be apprehending his rogue rival as a guardian of Re-Estize, a sense of reluctance halted him.
Had Brain's one-sided rivalry suddenly become a two-way road? No, rather, Gazef was simply glad the man managed to find some direction and purpose to their life outside of petty, violent crime—as eerily obsessed as it was.
Then there was the matter of their appointment to the honored station of 'Imperial Knight.' Funny in a sense, that the warrior closest to besting him would accept the offer he had rejected years ago on the misted plains of Katze.
"If you really think that, then hurry up and start training," Brain gave a lop-sided grin that didn't match the fire burning within their eyes. "Beating a cripple isn't much of an accomplishment in my book."
Gazef sighed and turned towards Climb. "It seems I'll be relying on you for the time being, Climb."
"Excuse my rudeness, Captain Stronoff," a furrow formed in the blond bodyguard's forehead. "I would be honored to spar with you, but wouldn't this cause trouble for…?"
"Are there any nobles from Re-Estize staying in Oriculia Castle? Beside Her Highness of course," both his friends—and he supposed they were—shook their heads. "The risk of rumors spreading still exists, though we can ask if there's a training ground kept away from prying eyes."
Everyone's thoughts shifted to the fearsome angels patrolling every inch of the castle's corridors. Thankfully, Brain was quick to offer a suggestion: "There's a few places. Can't promise that they're not being used right now, buuuut…"
The blue-haired knight rose from his chair, filled with an impatient energy. "Might as well check; anything's better than sitting around doing nothing."
They went as a group, making small talk while navigating the neat passages, crossing important faces every now and then. Gazef dearly hoped his companions were correct about delegates from his sworn kingdom being late to arrive—Princess Renner aside. Explaining his and Climb's closeness to an Imperial Knight would be difficult.
"Weapon selection is kind of meh," Brain inspected the weapon-stands inside the private training room typically reserved for the Dragon Queen's Royal Guards. It was plain enough that Gazef wouldn't have pegged it as one were it not for their guide. "Guess they're still having some trouble with finances—ah, who cares! Both of you are swordsmen anyway, eh?"
"Hm," the Warrior-Captain selected a bastard sword, the edges dulled as expected of a training tool. "Indeed."
Unembellished weaponry suited him just fine. Practicality came first after all.
"Is it really alright for me to train with you, Captain Stronoff?" The Princess's bodyguard had picked a broadsword and shield. "What if—"
"It's fine," Gazef firmly dismissed Climb's concerns. "Worst comes to worst, there's always the excuse of my resurrection sickness to fall back in."
"… Then, I humbly ask the Warrior-Captain to exchange pointers with me."
'Good man.'
"Start when you're ready, and don't hold back. It'll be difficult to gauge both our abilities otherwise."
Climb's left side leaned slightly forward, protected by the flimsy circle of steel and wood. The youth scanned Gazef for any weaknesses in his posture, any vulnerabilities that could be exploited by the difference in their choice of armaments. 'A defensive stance. Well, it can't be helped; he must be feeling pressured, having to fight against me.'
"Giving up the initiative?" He chuckled, attempting to lighten the stiffness that had overcome his opponent. "In that case, I'll go to you. Ready?"
He took one step, two, then more—all in the span of a split second despite forgoing the use of Martial Arts. To their credit, Climb only allowed themself a flinch before turning every speck of their energy to blocking the flash of gray.
The bastard sword slammed against the shield, sending splinters of wood flying across the room. Apparently he wasn't doing a good enough job keeping himself in check; breaking the property of his hosts would be poor form. 'Felt a bit harder to exert force. I truly have become weaker.'
"Focus!" A shoulder bash sent the blond flying with a grunt. "Pay attention to everything your enemy is doing!"
Climb was an individual of average talent in every possible parameter. Physique, intuition, sheer power… yes, there was not a single thing Gazef could say was superlative aside from their insane efforts to better themselves and zealous loyalty.
But effort and willpower alone weren't enough in this world.
'If nothing else, I can help build his experience,' Gazef's foot lashed out towards his opponent's liver. 'Whether he learns anything is up to him.'
"『Fortress』!"
'Not bad,' the boot made contact with the youth's stomach—and came to an unnatural stop instead of sinking into their gut.
He watched as Climb's eyes narrowed in concentration as they took in a deep breath and released an equally forceful exhale. 'The sides? Or will it be above?'
Climb's didn't waste the opening, blunted blade carving an overhead arc towards Gazef's skull.
'Has he gotten faster? No, it's my reflexes that have degenerated.'
As expected of the Princess's ever-diligent bodyguard; not a day went by that saw them neglect their training.
'Even so, he's reaching his limits,' Gazef parried the downward strike with a heavy heart. Nobody could grow without end, regardless if they lorded over the skies like Lady Yuriko or crawled in the dust like himself. The closer a person approached this 'ceiling,' the harder it became to further accumulate strength. "Well done!"
His deflection had knocked Climb's already precarious stance further off balance. Gazef didn't waste this chance and sharply raised a knee upwards, slamming the air out of the blond's lungs.
"Letting your focus narrow can be—will be fatal," Gazef grabbed Climb's hand and yanked them to their feet. While the Princess's bodyguard was coated in a sheen of sweat, the Warrior-Captain had just begun breaking into one: another sign of his weakened body. "Your enemies possess multiple angles of attack as do you. Don't let your options be closed off."
Climb nodded, too spent to verbally give thanks as he struggled to raise the training sword.
"That's enough for today," Gazef lowered his own weapon. "You've improved, Climb. With your current skill, any noble would be glad to have you in their household guard."
'If we're using Adventurer ranks as the standard, then he's… platinum? No, gold is more fitting.'
A calloused hand reflexively reached for his belt before remembering the usual potions weren't there. "Take a few hours to rest; Her Highness needs you in fighting shape."
"Y-Yes, Captain Stronoff," Climb forced the words out in between panting. "Thank you for your guidance!"
"Did you want to go next, Brain?" Gazef turned a sharp gaze towards the Imperial Knight. "I can't imagine sparring would cause a larger incident than what you've already done."
"Nah," his offer was handily rejected. "No point when you're still recovering. Would leave a bad taste in my mouth, you get me?"
"I see," he accepted the explanation. "You won't have to wait too long then."
Resurrection sickness should be more… severe if the words of Lady Aindra and the bards were to be trusted.
Gazef flexed his fist, clenching and unclenching, while he went over the recently concluded spar in his head. Indeed, it was true his strikes were lighter than before, his limbs less limber and his footwork a beat behind what he could usually maintain—but the degradation was nowhere close to what he had been expecting.
If it was only this much, he was confident he could return to his peak within the year.
"Tch, going around saying whatever bullshit you want…" Brain clicked their tongue in dismay. Whatever trials they underwent in Baharuth, it hadn't completely tempered the swordmaster's arrogance. "Just wait until we get you back into shape."
"Wouldn't fighting you speed up that process?"
Brain snorted. "Then fight an angel. Goddess would probably be happy to oblige; show off her strength to all the nobles here, yeah? 'Look! My summons can beat the Warrior-Captain! Buy one today!' "
'His cynicism hasn't changed,' the sight brought a wry grin to his face. 'Angels as sparring partners though…'
The possibility was—repulsive, strangely. On an instinctual level he couldn't put into words, a feeling that squeezed his chest with a mixture of regret. Like there was information he desperately needed to remember but laid beyond the boundary of life and death.
"We'll come again tomorrow," Gazef tried to shake the feeling. "Unless Her Highness requires you to stand at her side."
In the meanwhile, he would see if there was anything of worth he could offer to Lady Yuriko short of his fealty. 'Perhaps I could petition King Ramposa to forge closer ties with the Draconic Kingdom. Render greater assistance for their rebuilding projects.'
It felt trivial; what use did, as Brain called them, a Goddess have for the pittances a mortal could lay at her feet? Here existed a deity that flew among her flock, unlike the gods of the Four and Six, yet demanded little—nothing from what he knew—out of them.
Someone who wielded magic belonging to the realm of myth. A being who was powerful by any metric of the term.
"Yes, Captain Stronoff!"
But because he himself was considered strong, Gazef understood:
Being strong didn't make a person invincible. It didn't make them capable of withstanding every tribulation by themselves, god or not.
"Eh, I guess we got another day to burn until that reception gala."
And the fate of the strong was bound to attract trouble.
