Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 28 - Chapter Ep

Epilogue

Seven days had passed since Robert Bertrand and Signus Galveria thwarted the O’ltormea Empire’s surprise attack. Under the brilliant sun, an army advanced west along the highway, kicking up clouds of dust. The force consisted of ten thousand elite dark elves, part of the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy’s army, dispatched by the Kingdom of Rhoadseria. Because of their characteristic dark skin and black-dyed cloaks, from a distance, they appeared almost like the darkness of night itself. Leading this darkness was Nelcius, chief of the dark elves and known by the epithet Mad Demon. He was one of the most skilled warriors among the demi-humans who lived on the western continent, survivors of the ancient holy war. Their destination was, of course, the capital of the Kingdom of Xarooda, Peripheria.

As the army marched along the highway, travelers who happened to be in the way made sure to step outside the protective barrier and clear the path for the soldiers. No one knew what punishment they might receive if they hindered the army’s advance. Of course, there was a chance that nothing would happen. Not all commanders leading an army had a strong sense of entitlement. When an army used the highway, it was common for an advance party to be sent ahead to inform people of the approaching forces. Commanders of armies, composed mostly of nobility, believed the lives of commoners held no more value than a stone by the roadside. For this reason, it was normal not to waste time punishing troublesome commoners by halting the march. Such commanders seemed to think that they couldn’t afford the time to deal with such things, so it was unlikely bloodshed would occur so easily. However, one couldn’t guarantee that the worst-case scenario wouldn’t come to pass. In this world, commoners who obstructed an army’s march were forced to pay large fines, or even accused of being spies for the enemy and executed. One could say that it depended on the whims, mood, and circumstances of the strong. What kind of outcome one would face was as unpredictable as the roll of dice.

Regarding the army marching toward the royal capital of Peripheria, that was not necessarily the case. Even though it was an official contingent of reinforcements dispatched by the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy, Nelcius and the others from the dark elf tribe honestly wanted to avoid creating unnecessary tensions due to race. If someone were to make trouble and try to obstruct the march, their basic approach would be to resolve the situation peacefully. The escalation of things could have repercussions that could reach Archduke Mikoshiba’s family. Only those who were aware of the circumstances Nelcius and the others were facing could understand this reasoning. No one in the Kingdom of Xarooda knew of those circumstances. At least there was no one among the people traveling on this highway, so the weak had no choice but to protect themselves. And there was only one surefire way to handle it: to distance oneself from the place that seemed dangerous. The weak and those vulnerable to the whims of the strong had to take every precaution to avoid trouble. It was a piece of wisdom and a survival tactic for the weak in this strictly hierarchical world that also extended beyond the confines of this world.

The basic principle remained unchanged even in modern society. For example, avoiding areas with poor security to prevent becoming involved in crime could also be considered a legitimate way to protect oneself. In this world, simply stepping outside the house often meant no one could guarantee their safety. People living in this land deeply understood this harsh reality, and so few traveled merely for the sake of sightseeing. Despite this knowledge, it was not realistic to be on guard constantly. At times, some travelers would be captivated by the peaceful landscape, let down their guard too much, and fail to notice an army marching behind them.

This is truly a tranquil landscape. I heard that the Kingdom of Xarooda is going through a difficult time. Since this area is far from the battlefield, the war doesn’t seem to be having much of an impact, a traveler thought.

The traveler walked along the unpaved road. His steps were incredibly slow, as if he were just on a casual stroll. Perhaps the peaceful weather and the farmlands cultivated by nearby villages spread out on both sides of the road made the area relatively safe. As a result, the traveler had not noticed the presence of the army behind him. The fact that there were no other travelers around might have been another reason he hadn’t noticed the army’s approach. But it seemed that the saying “When one god abandons you, another will pick you up,” was indeed true. Fortunately, a farmer who noticed the traveler’s presence called out to him.

“Hey, you there. Hurry up and come this way! Don’t you see the dust behind you? You’re going to get in the way of the march!”

The traveler must have noticed the voice. He looked around, searching for its source, and found a farmer standing under a large elm tree by the side of the road and gesturing toward the east. That was when the traveler realized the situation from the rising dust behind him. In a panic, he started running toward the elm tree that was conveniently close to the road. From there, he could quickly retreat to the barrier pillars if attacked by monsters or any other threat, yet he wouldn’t obstruct the march. It was, quite literally, a close call.

“Ah, thank you very much. The weather was so calm, and the surrounding scenery was so beautiful that I couldn’t help but get lost in it and didn’t notice the dust,” the traveler said, bowing deeply.

The farmer lightly waved his hand in response.

“Ah, no need to worry about it. Right?”

The farmer turned toward his wife, who stood nearby, as if prompting her to agree. In truth, for him, it was just a simple act of kindness to call out to the traveler. The good-natured farmer might have felt anger if the traveler had not said thank you. But when the traveler expressed his gratitude, it likely made him feel a bit embarrassed.

As such, the farmer’s wife, wearing a straw hat and an apron, nodded with a cheerful smile. “That’s right. It’s already a tough time with O’ltormea being on the offensive. Everyone’s on edge because of it.”

The farmer nodded deeply.

“Well, that’s the way it is. If we can avoid any unnecessary trouble, that’s for the best.”

The couple laughed, and their demeanor made it easy to tell that they were kindhearted, helpful people. Both seemed to be in their early forties, characterized by their sturdy build, suntanned skin, and friendly faces. They had probably been working the farmland that stretched out beside the road. There was dirt stuck to their faces and hands, and two hoes were leaning against the elm tree.

“For now, we’ll take a break, so you should sit here and wait for the army to pass by,” the farmer said.

“Yes, I’ll take you up on that offer,” the traveler replied. As they talked, the three sat on the ground. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of birds singing echoed, and a gentle wind parted the wheat fields. It was indeed the peaceful landscape the traveler had mentioned. However, the army that passed in front of the traveler, kicking up dust, was an entirely different presence, one completely unrelated to such tranquility. When the traveler, idly looking toward the road from under the shade of the tree, caught sight of the army, the first impression that came to mind was of a black tsunami. What in the world is that? It’s all black, isn’t it? They must have dyed their armor black, but to do something so extravagant, are they some rich nobles?

In the western continent, very few people actually tried to standardize the color of the armor they gave soldiers. This practice was probably rare across the entire world. Of course, from the standpoint of the military’s appearance, it was an action that had some meaning. However, unifying the armor and helmet colors didn’t directly enhance the performance of the weapons or armor. One of the only benefits would be identifying friend from foe. When considering cost-effectiveness, it was not really a practical choice. If one had to spend money unifying the color of their armor, it would be far more logical to increase the number of soldiers instead. Therefore, only a limited number of people could afford to implement such a thing. Elite units directly under the king, like the Royal Guard Cavalry or the Monarch’s Guard, sometimes standardized the color of their armor to distinguish themselves from others. But that was about the only case where it had been seen.

The only examples of such uniform armor that immediately came to mind were the Crimson Flame Knights, the elite force directly under Her Majesty Queen Helnescharles of the Kingdom of Helnesgoula, and the Temple Knights, the elite unit under the direct command of the pope of the Holy Qwiltantia Empire.

There were nearly twenty countries on the western continent, large and small, each with their own territories. Said countries were home to hundreds or even thousands of noble families presiding over thousands more military units. Naturally, a mere commoner like the traveler couldn’t discern all of them, and it would be unnatural if he could.

But a black-dyed army... I feel like I’ve heard something about that before. What was it?

As the traveler pondered this, he tilted his head. However, that question continued to smolder in his mind without any answer, lingering like a fishbone stuck in his throat. While the traveler’s worries persisted, the black wave gradually drew near. The moment the black-clad soldiers passed in front of him, a jolt of electricity shot through the traveler’s body. Yet, it seemed that he had not recalled the affiliation of the army before him. Such trivial concerns had already vanished from the traveler’s mind, because the shock he had received was so great.

What is this, the atmosphere that this army exudes... And those uniforms...

The pressure exerted by the soldiers’ presence seemed to have overwhelmed him. The traveler swallowed hard. He was nothing more than a commoner, and it was unlikely that he could truly gauge the strength of the soldiers. Even without the ability to assess their skill, he could sense something simply by looking at the soldiers advancing on the road in front of him. The words “fighting spirit” seemed most appropriate for the air they exuded. From the flawless formation of their march, the traveler, though a mere amateur, could easily tell that they were highly trained, elite soldiers. What surprised the traveler even more than that was the quality of the equipment the soldiers were wearing.

Although I only caught a glimpse through the gap in their cloaks, there’s no doubt that their gear is of extremely high quality... The armor is impressive, yet the shape of their spears suggests some degree of standardization. They must have had them made by a workshop. There’s no doubt that a skilled artisan crafted them.

In this world, it was rare to see an army outfitted in such uniform gear. Providing standardized equipment to all soldiers would be challenging unless a nation were economically prosperous. After all, artisans crafted the weapons and armor used in this world. No matter how skilled the craftsmen were, maintaining identical strength and shape was a difficult task. Inevitably, there would be some variation in the quality of the equipment. Although there was some distance, the traveler’s eyes were not clouded to the point that he couldn’t tell. But the armor worn by the soldiers advancing in front of him was clearly of standardized quality. The traveler could tell since he was a merchant employed by the Dolban Trading Company, which was based in the trade city of Myspos and part of the Kingdom of Helnesgoula. This company specialized in weapons and armor, dealing specifically with supplies delivered to the kingdom’s armed forces.

Naturally, the traveler was confident in his ability to appraise weapons.

The spears the soldiers are carrying are of exceptional quality. And that armor... There’s no sound of metal scraping, so it’s likely leather armor focused on mobility. It’s a texture I’ve never seen before. That’s definitely not ordinary quality.

In addition, the traveler saw that the infantry and cavalry wore the same armor. This meant that the entire group’s equipment was identical.

Cavalry and infantry wearing the same armor? Is that even possible? The mounted soldiers could be knights, but then that would mean that all the soldiers in this army are knights trained in martial thaumaturgy. How is that possible? He couldn’t make sense of the reality in front of him. There’s no way they would foolishly have knights wearing the same armor as the infantry.

Those who had mastered martial thaumaturgy were chosen beings beyond the scope of ordinary people. Simply put, the difference in power between the two was as vast as that of a cat and a mouse. But just as the saying “a cornered rat will bite the cat,” implied, overturning this power difference was not impossible. If a cornered mouse gathered in a group to fight back, even a cat could suffer an unexpected loss. The same applied to a warrior who had mastered martial thaumaturgy and an ordinary commoner. The former often wore heavy metal armor due to this and as a measure to increase their chances of survival.

Of course, cavalry units focused on messengers or ambushes might sometimes wear lighter armor... But that’s only in a very limited number of cases.

At the very least, it was unnatural for an entire army of ten thousand to wear nothing but leather armor. With that in mind, two possibilities emerged. One possibility is that the cavalry and infantry riding those horses are all commoners and are not important enough to be considered crucial fighting forces.

According to the western continent’s common sense, providing conscripted commoners with leather armor would be better than nothing. A commoner’s life was expendable in the world of Earth, although very few foolish lords would waste them recklessly. Since a lord could not collect taxes without commoners, it was only natural to take care of them to some extent. However, that didn’t mean it would be worth the effort to train them and equip them properly. If the enemy had warriors who had mastered the supernatural power of martial thaumaturgy, no matter how much training or equipment commoners received, they would never stand a chance. A single touch of the sleeve of a skilled warrior’s armor would scatter them. What would remain afterward would be the bodies of the commoners lying on the ground and the weak ones who had their life force drained, allowing their slayers to evolve into even more powerful beings. Many lords considered it a waste to supply commoners with proper weapons. In the end, it all came down to whether a lord placed more value on the lives of the commoners or the weapons they were provided. Thus, most lords would only issue the bare minimum of weapons to the conscripted commoners. Leather armor was cheaper and easier to supply in greater numbers than metal armor, which made it appropriate as the equipment issued to commoners.

But that couldn’t be possible... There was no way those soldiers were mere commoners. As the formation passed halfway in front of him, the traveler became even more convinced of that thought. Wait a minute... Is every piece of equipment those soldiers are wearing dyed black? And not just that. The craftsmanship of their weapons and armor is remarkably intricate. This is not the kind of gear handed out to ordinary foot soldiers. And their sheer discipline and strength...

The traveler might not have been as shocked if the quality of the soldiers or the quality of their equipment had been responsible for their formidable appearance. However, maintaining both the skill of the soldiers and the excellence of their equipment at such a high level was not as easy as it sounded.

Simply being wealthy did not guarantee such a balance.

Vast wealth would be necessary. I don’t know which army this is, but it must belong to a tremendously powerful noble or even a nation. And to be able to acquire that many pieces of equipment of such high caliber... They must have serious connections.

Several hundred soldiers had passed before him, and every single one of them wore identical armor. The soldiers that followed were dressed exactly the same.

What merchant company provided the materials to outfit a force of nearly ten thousand soldiers? It’s certainly not any of our clients. Wait! The crest! If I check their emblem...!

Realizing this, the traveler quickly shifted his gaze toward the banners the army carried. Even if he saw the emblem, his chances of identifying the army’s affiliation were slim. After all, very few people in this world could recognize a military force just by the crest on its banner. Unless one was a general leading an army or a herald who specialized in tracking noble lineages and emblems, the average commoner was ignorant of such things. They might recognize the coat of arms of the lord governing their homeland or a neighboring territory. That was knowledge essential for daily life, and the opportunity to see such emblems in person was far more frequent. However, it became significantly more difficult to recognize an army’s standard when it came to the emblems of noble houses beyond the ones governing a commoner’s homeland.

The total number of flags of the countries on the western continent was nearly twenty, making them relatively few in comparison. Even so, commoners who could accurately distinguish even those limited national flags were rare. In the most extreme case, there was even a nonzero possibility that someone might not recognize their own country’s flag. For noble house crests, identification became even more difficult without specialized knowledge. The western continent was home to thousands of well-known or obscure noble houses. On top of that, the limited means of information transmission posed a significant problem. There were no televisions, internet, or photographs in this world.

That scope meant that unless one had seen an emblem in person, the only ways to learn about its design were to study a specialized book or try to make deductions from vague secondhand descriptions given by someone who had seen it before. Access to such specialized books was restricted to a select few, and it was unrealistic to expect someone to accurately identify a noble house’s crest based solely on hearsay. The number of people who could recognize the emblems of foreign noble houses was even more limited.

Because of this, the position of herald existed in this world to track and maintain the records of noble crests. Despite knowing all of this, the traveler did not give up. He was too captivated by the overwhelming sense of peculiarity the army before him exuded. If an entire military force was uniformly equipped with gear impressive enough to catch the eye of a seasoned arms dealer, then his curiosity was only natural. Besides, his efforts were not entirely without merit or hope. Though he was a commoner, he was also a merchant belonging to a major trading company that conducted business with the Kingdom of Helnesgoula. He certainly possessed far greater knowledge and education than an ordinary commoner or matching that of a low-ranking noble. As if answering the traveler’s wish, a gust of wind suddenly blew through, causing the previously drooping military banner to flutter in the wind.

A snake coiled around a sword?

The banner that waved above the soldiers bore the emblem of a two-headed serpent, its golden and silver scales entwined around a sword. For those living on the western continent, this was a familiar crest. The coat of arms of House Mikoshiba was relatively well known to the people of the Kingdom of Xarooda.

During the previous war—now referred to as the first O’ltormea invasion of Xarooda—the young conqueror dispatched to aid their kingdom alongside the neighboring nation’s hero, the Ivory Goddess of War, had been etched into their minds as a savior of their homeland. However, that was only true for the people of Xarooda. While the traveler was a resident of the Kingdom of Helnesgoula, his position within the Dolban Trading Company mainly involved dealing with clients near the royal capital of Dreisen, located in the northwestern part of the continent.

As a result, he had limited knowledge of the eastern regions—something that now worked against him. Without any particular intention, the traveler unconsciously voiced the question that had surfaced in his mind. He gave no thought to what consequences speaking those words might bring.

“A black field, a two-headed serpent with golden and silver scales wrapped around a sword... And those striking red eyes. It almost feels like I’m being watched for real. But what army would march under such an eerie banner?”

His question was not directed at anyone in particular. Either way, it was a perfectly reasonable question for someone who had just laid eyes on an unfamiliar crest carried by an advancing army. The farming couple, who had been watching the military procession from the shade of the trees, answered immediately. The price for that answer was the deeply suspicious looks the couple now directed at him, which the traveler found rather unwelcome.

“You’re a fool, aren’t you? Just look at that flawless march and the emblem on the banner flying above them. It’s obvious whose army this is, plain as day, isn’t it?”

The husband turned to his wife, seeking her agreement.

“That’s right... That is none other than the army of Lord Mikoshiba, the very one who saved us in the last war. There’s no mistaking that crest. The twin-headed serpent of gold and silver entwined around a sword on a black field!”

This was common knowledge for those living in the eastern part of the western continent, something so obvious that it hardly needed to be said. In truth, that distinctive crest was well-known not just in the east but even in the north and central regions of the continent. Within the Kingdom of Xarooda’s borders, very few people wouldn’t immediately recognize that emblem and the army it belonged to. Most travelers and merchants passing along the roads were well aware that these soldiers belonged to Archduke Mikoshiba’s forces. That was precisely why the traveler’s muttered words had been so unacceptable to the farming couple.

“You don’t even know that? You’re not from the east, are you?” With those words, the farmer’s wife fixed the traveler with a probing stare. The warm, good-natured smile she had worn just moments ago had vanished completely. In its place, her eyes gleamed with suspicion and hostility. “You’re a foreigner, aren’t you? Where exactly did you come from? You’re not one of O’ltormea’s dogs, are you?”

Then, in one swift motion, the farmer’s wife sprang to her feet and reached for the hoe that had been leaning against a nearby tree. Her movements were as quick and instinctive as a small animal sensing danger. When the farmer heard his wife’s sudden outburst, his face tensed in an instant. Her words had also made him realize that the traveler before them might be a spy sent by the O’ltormea Empire. As if to shield his wife, the husband swiftly stood up and reached for his own hoe. Judging by the way his right hand tightened around the handle, he was fully prepared to take action depending on the traveler’s response. His eyes burned with anger and hatred toward the O’ltormea Empire, their sworn enemy. A menacing air radiated from the couple, spreading into the surroundings. They responded as expected from the people of the Kingdom of Xarooda, a nation renowned for its martial spirit. Even ordinary farmers possessed the resolve to kill an enemy spy without hesitation. If anything happened to her husband, the wife would surely swing the tool in her hands with all her might and show no mercy. And yet, they still hadn’t attacked. Was it because they lacked absolute proof that the traveler was a spy?

“Hey! Say something!”

The husband thrust his hoe toward the traveler’s face, threatening him. Behind him, his wife scanned the surroundings, looking for someone to call for help.

“He’s definitely suspicious. Shouldn’t we get someone? We ought to inform the lord!”

It was like a cornered mouse deciding to fight against a cat. But that was entirely understandable because the O’ltormea Empire’s invasion constantly threatened the Kingdom of Xarooda. In such a situation, no one could expect a person to welcome a stranger with open arms. Fortunately, the area east of Peripheria had thus far been spared from the ravages of war.

However, that did not mean they were living in peace and safety. There was no guarantee that the hand of invasion would not reach their land at any moment. Unless one was utterly naive, no person whose country was under attack by an enemy nation would simply accept it without resistance. Although the farmers of Xarooda were known as warriors, they were not trained soldiers. Their combat abilities were limited. At the very least, their chances of standing toe to toe with professional soldiers were slim. It would be more accurate to say that any resistance would likely be futile. But this was not a matter of whether they could fight. They instinctively understood that if Xarooda fell, they themselves would not escape unscathed. The residents of this region had naturally grown more wary of outsiders than ever before. Given such circumstances, the traveler’s offhand remark had been nothing short of reckless. Perhaps realizing this, the traveler hurriedly began making excuses.

“No, please, you’ve got it all wrong! I’m just a merchant from Dreisen in the Kingdom of Helnesgoula. I have business in Birminghen, a border town in the Kingdom of Brittantia. You’re completely mistaken if you think I’m a spy from O’ltormea.”

Upon hearing this, the husband and wife exchanged glances. Judging by the fact that their wariness did not wane, they did not believe the man’s words. Sensing their distrust, the man hastily continued speaking. His life literally rested on his plea; it was the ultimate test of the salesmanship he had honed over the years as a merchant.

“If I were really a spy, there’s no way I wouldn’t recognize such a famous crest! That would be far too careless, knowing full well I’d end up in a situation like this!”

The traveler fell to his knees on the ground and pleaded earnestly as a desperate appeal with no regard for appearances. He was on the brink of life and death, making his desperation logical. Perhaps overwhelmed by his intensity, the hostility emanating from the couple subsided rapidly.

“Well... I suppose, right?”

“That’s true. You might have a point.”

There was a certain logic to his argument.

To the O’ltormea Empire, House Mikoshiba—which had assassinated their court thaumaturgist, Gaius Valkland, and thwarted their first invasion of Xarooda—was a sworn enemy beyond all measure of hatred. It was inconceivable that a spy working for O’ltormea would be unfamiliar with the crest of such a bitter foe. Additionally, there was no plausible reason for them to pretend not to know it. That would only invite unnecessary danger, as had happened just now. Perhaps somewhat convinced by the sight of the man’s pitiful plea, the couple finally loosened their grips on their farming tools. Still, the couple did not completely drop their guard and continued to watch the man with suspicion. It was clear they didn’t fully trust him yet.

Once suspicion had taken root, regaining that trust wouldn’t be easy. The farmer stood protectively behind his wife, watching the man silently with a probing gaze. The silence dominated the scene. How long had they been staring each other down?

Eventually, a deep sigh escaped the farmer’s lips.

“Well... I suppose that’s true... I apologize.”

With that, the farmer finally relaxed his stance. He sighed again and glared at the traveler. It was as if he was reprimanding the man for his careless words, which had startled them. Because of this tense confrontation, the three of them overlooked the cart that had blended in with the soldiers’ ranks.

Unaware of this small comedy unfolding in the shade of the trees, the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy’s army continued their march westward on the highway. The dark elves had a mission: to carry out the orders of their lord, who promised to show them a new future.

“Heh heh heh... Who would have thought we’d be called into a war with the neighboring country? The lord has certainly made a bold decision,” murmured Nelcius, who was commanding the army from somewhere near the center of the formation. His words held neither dissatisfaction nor unease. What did they contain? Perhaps it was the gratitude of a warrior welcoming the decision of his lord, Ryoma Mikoshiba.

Nelcius was a warrior who had earned the title of Mad Demon during the holy war, known as the battle for survival between humans and demi-humans. For the strong, the battlefield was never a place to avoid. For someone like Nelcius, the battlefield served as a second homeland. The battlefield was the only stage where the strong could unleash their sharpened skills and animal instincts without hesitation. And this applied equally to the spear he gripped in his right hand.

“Recently, I’ve only been commanding units, so I haven’t had a chance to use you much. But this time, there will likely be moments when I’ll need your strength. I’m counting on you,” Nelcius said casually.

His eyes reflected the figure of his partner, someone he had fought alongside during the holy war. That figure was the spear that hung over the hearth in Nelcius’s house. It had once been stained red with the blood of many enemies. It was Nelcius’s companion, his other half—the demon spear, Gringlanzer. Nelcius had seen countless knights and warriors fall in the bloodbath of the holy war, thanks to the sharpness of his blade and spear techniques. Despite all that, this companion had spent hundreds of years in obscurity alongside Nelcius. He only used it to defend the village during the sporadic monster rampage that occurred once every few decades. Even that danger had nearly disappeared now that his daughter, Dilphina, and the others had grown into full-fledged warriors. How unfortunate that must have been for such a renowned spear.

No matter how famous the craftsmanship or the maker, a weapon was still just a weapon. Its true value became apparent when it clashed with an enemy’s bloodstained blade.

I’ve kept you waiting for so long, but I can finally wield you to your fullest again.

At that moment, Gringlanzer’s tip reflected the sunlight as if responding to its master’s heightened battle spirit, illuminating the surrounding area. It was a light of blessing for Nelcius, who firmly believed that the battlefield, where life and death were at stake, was where he truly belonged. The light was also a beacon signaling that a new phase of the O’ltormea Empire’s invasion of Xarooda was about to unfold.