[V11C9] Battle of the Strong, and Meanwhile…
Translated by Jodas 11: Envoy of the AbyssWhile the chaos of battle had got the Primordial Beast’s blood pumping at first, as time went on he felt more and more unfulfilled.
So long as he was in this area of high mana density, he would be able to fight at his full strength without relying on the Crystal Rivets. Yet that very fact made it terribly unsatisfying to fight humans.
Those kids who snuck in from underground weren’t all that shabby. They had guts, and they had an eye for strategy that Monsters lacked. However, without the Crystal Rivets to hold him back, the gulf between their powers was simply too vast.
Just a light sweep with his claws would be enough to tear through a human’s flesh like paper. Since the Primordial Beast had already decided not to kill children, there wasn’t much he could do.
If he was looking for a strong human, the first to come to mind would be the Wedge Tower’s Headmaster, but that man had been impaled by crystals controlled by Fiene, the Daughter of God. If he was a Monster, then maybe he would have been able to fight again after taking a little rest, but things were not so simple for weak-bodied humans.
(If I knew it would turn out like this, maybe I should have played around with that huge pea plant some more? …But even that thing felt like little more than child’s play.)
Considering that the next strongest would probably be the Extermination Office’s Director, the Primordial Beast looked up to the skies. It seemed like that flight- and lighting-magic-using swordsman was off to the east.
However, just as he considered making his way over in that direction, he heard a chorus of human shouts and horse whinnies. The humans must have been starting their attack from the west.
Sensing the thick presence of death in that direction, the Primordial Beast ran towards it.
He could tell that the Monsters on the western front were dying at an unbelievable rate.
(Somewhere over there… there’s a herald of death!)
The western wall fell in an instant, and thorns dominated the landscape. Those thorns absorbed the surrounding mana, opening up more and more land to the humans’ advance.
Alongside the thorns came armored soldiers. Some soldiers dismounted from their horses and marched into the Wedge Tower’s campus, while others remained on horseback, on standby just outside of the walls. They formed a cordon that prevented any Monsters from making a break for it.
A Monster taking the form of a tree moved to attack the soldiers who stepped into the campus. The massive tree lunged with a branch, intent on running it straight through the chests of several humans.
However, these disciplined soldiers promptly raised their shields to ward off the branch’s attack. Then, a single swordsman leapt forth. He swung once, twice, seemingly intent on slicing through nothing but air. Yet after a few seconds, the tree monster, as well as numerous bug-type Monsters hiding behind it, turned to piles of grotesque pieces splattering across the landscape.
(That’s it. That’s the one. That swordsman right there.)
Detecting that this lone swordsman posed a considerable threat, a wave of beast Monsters pounced on him at once.
Yet, with precision as if the swordsman had eyes on his back, he cut down the incoming Monsters one after another.
The movements of his sword looked familiar. It was the same fighting style as that boy who had put up such a valiant fight on the night they had attacked the Wedge Tower.
(But this one is even stronger…!)
His tail wagging with excitement, the Primordial Beast let out a howl.
Any ordinary human would tremble in fear when they heard his howling. That swordsman, however, did not falter. Instead, he looked the Primordial Beast straight in the eye.
It was a tall yet lanky man with dirty blond hair and grey eyes. Nevertheless, the moment he brought his sword to bear, he struck an image as if he himself was an extension of the sword and not the other way around.
The keen glint in his eyes strangely reminded one of a wolf.
The Primordial Beast howled once more.
“Weaklings, stand aside, whether you be human or Monster! This is a battle for the strong only!”
The swordsman who seemed to wield death itself opened his eyes wide in surprise.
“The dog talks…?”
His reaction was so absurd, the Primordial Beast broke into uproarious laughter.
This was the same man who just moments ago had demonstrated such overwhelming strength! The man who looked as if he had become a sword himself! Seeing such a man say something so unserious at such a time as this…
The Primordial Beast took a liking to him.
“Human! Tell me your name.”
Prompted by the Primordial Beast, the swordsman responded politely as if he were addressing a fellow human.
“I am Henrik Blanke, Margrave of Warmberg. In accordance with His Majesty’s orders, I have come to take your head.”
“I’d like to see you try. My neck is rather tough.”
The moment he said that, a fearsome slash came his way.
The attack was perfect, to the point that he could not tell when the attack was coming until it was too late and the sword was bearing down on the Primordial Beast’s neck.
This attack came down with such force it would be almost guaranteed to sever the spine of even the toughest-skinned opponents. But, true to his word, the Primordial Beast shrugged it off.
At this point, most humans would freeze in shock and despair. Henrik, however, merely whispered “Oh, it is tough,” and thrusted his sword again. This time, he aimed for the Primordial Beast’s eyeballs.
The Primordial Beast leaned to the side to dodge the attack and make some distance. Depending on the positioning, he had planned on counterattacking with his claws as he evaded, but Henrik had positioned himself on his left side, where the Beast was leaning all of his weight.
When a four-legged beast placed all their weight on their left side, they would not be able to use their left claws. Henrik knew that instinctively.
Then, setting his sights on the Primordial Beast’s eyes and mouth, Henrik muttered:
“This will be easier than fighting a giant dragon.”
“Don’t underestimate me, boy!”
Howling in a voice that conveyed more enjoyment than anger, the Primordial Beast leapt at Henrik.
The fight to the death between humans and Monsters grew bloodier and more intense.
The thorns around the main gate impaled Monsters; the Hundred-Eyes Witch who guarded the East had fallen, and the beast-men in the North were wiped out by ‘Eurydice, the Cackling Foam.’
In the West, meanwhile, the Primordial Beast had challenged Henrik Blanke, the commander of the reinforcements, to a battle between the strongest warriors in which no one else could even get close.
High above the Wedge Tower, the Harpy Charonlala sang a song of weakness, while Spiremaster Alto played the fiddle and sang to resist it. She couldn’t exactly bring a piano here to accompany her, but she did the best with what she had to counter the effects of the Harpy’s song.
Inside the Wedge Tower, the Winter Monster Jack sought out humans that caught his eye and sent freezing winds towards them. Meanwhile, the Apprentice Mages split up to accomplish their individual objectives.
—And amidst all of that, one man shamelessly ran away, trying his best to come off as an uninvolved civilian. That man was the third-rate con man Smoke Fox, better known as (the fake) Caspar Hütter.
While the mages of the Wedge Tower now knew that Hütter was working on the orders of the Black Lion Emperor, it still seemed as if they had not yet discovered that he was a fraud.
In a sense, that was convenient to Hütter. In another sense, it was a major inconvenience.
So long as they believe him to be the real Dream Mage, they would treat him with kid gloves. In that sense, it was quite convenient.
However, so long as they believe him to be the real Dream Mage, they consider him to be a potential combat asset. In that sense, it was quite inconvenient.
He was already burnt out after the whole Poppo Showtime debacle, but it would be hard to convince anyone that his mana organ damage rendered him completely incapable of using magic at the moment.
So instead, Hütter opted to go with the story that “My illusion magic is not very effective against Monsters. In the worst-case scenario, we run the risk of throwing off our allies instead.” Doing so, he succeeded in getting assigned to the very back of the combat lines.
And then, the minute the battle broke out, he slipped away and made a break for it.
Naturally, Sombart and Armster were left behind. Neither of them were suited for battle anyway, so they stayed back at the village. If only he could have stayed back there as well.
(But maybe it’s for the best? This way I don’t have to worry about getting away from those two…)
Sombart was eager to place Hütter on a pedestal as some kind of long-awaited arch-villain, while Armster seemed pleased to have his dolls be appreciated and now wanted to rely on Hütter for everything. He probably wanted Hütter to put in a good word for him with the Black Lion Emperor. Every now and then, he would come running to Hütter, saying “Please help me, Mr. Hütter!”
Obviously, Hütter had no desire to get tied up with that loser. The only ones he wanted to bring along with him while he escaped were his cute little pigeons.
(The problem is whether or not I make contact with the Emperor now…)
After all the work he had done, there was a part of Hütter that wanted to demand a good reward for his troubles.
Yet considering just how big, troublesome, and unprecedented the problems were that he’d been involved with, something told him there was a serious chance the Emperor might want to take him out of the picture to keep him from blabbing.
In a con man’s line of work, being betrayed by a client and almost being killed to keep you silent was far from unusual. Not to mention, Hütter wasn’t even the real Dream Mage. As far as the Black Lion Emperor was concerned, it would be easy to do away with him as a criminal.
(I do want that reward, but it’s not worth my life… Maybe I should try to flee abroad.)
For the time being, he would head West and lay low in the Kingdom of Ridill or the Kingdom of Farfolia. Then, if it looks like someone’s coming after him, he’d hop on a ship and head to the maritime nation of Alpatra. That was the usual route for any criminals escaping justice in the Empire.
If he was going to do that, it would be best to get on the move as soon as possible. ‘Let’s get the Poppos and get going’ — Hütter thought as he headed straight for the pigeons’ nest box.
Said nest box was hidden not far from the Wedge Tower. Hütter dove into a copse of trees, found the nest box, and spoke lovingly to his pigeons.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Poppos. Let’s get going.”
“Leaving already~? Why don’t at least play with me a little bit, cute little human?”
He was certain that no one was following him this whole way. Yet why now, of all times… Hütter turned around and gasped.
Leaning against one of the trees was a gorgeous man with brilliant blond hair.