Chapter 286

“Kratyr is opening the door. Have you made up your mind?”

Hmm.

Navarordze’s lips twisted at Lorhon’s question. The makeshift conference room held ten people, including her. They were the brains of the Alliance.

They were deeply troubled, with faces not unlike Navarro’s. The absence of a certain figure was driving them mad. Navardozé, sobbing, looked back at Adeshan.

[Hey, are you still not in touch?

“Yep. I got hung up on the first day, and I’ve been—.”

Adeshan trailed off. Even now, he was sending out a telegram, but Ronan hadn’t responded. I wonder if something has really happened to him, Navarordze murmured softly.

That’s awkward. Honestly, I thought you’d be back by this time.

“It’s a little dangerous. The more time that passes, the worse off we are.”

The Allied commander with his arms crossed opened his mouth. The others shook their heads in agreement. The Allied forces on the continent had been assembled for the purpose of reinforcements, but also to wait for Ronan.

But Ronan, who had left to find answers, hadn’t returned after two days. It was time to make a decision. All eyes in the room turned to Navarordze, the final arbiter.

【—Yes. You can’t just sit around and wait.

She was silent for a moment, then sighed. They had to push while there was still time for munitions and blood. With all the scattered talent now assembled, it would take more than a few strong enemies to take them out.

[I’m sure you have defenses against pontoons, right?

“For now, yes, although the long and short of it is we’ll see.”

Lorhon affirmed. They hadn’t heeded Balzac’s warning not to look down on the priest. Lorhon, in the form of a child, smiled wryly.

“That’s what I’m thinking, too. Why don’t you give a morale-boosting speech?”

[Public speaking. I’m not good at that].

Navarordze smirked. With a snap of her fingers, the walls and ceiling of the tented conference room erupted in flames. With a crackle, the tents blew to ash, revealing the scene outside. Allied troops lined up in orderly formation, all ready for battle.

[That’s quite a few.]

Navarordze arched an eyebrow. Their armor and armaments twinkled like stars in the sunset light. Even with only the elite of the elite assembled, there must have been a hundred thousand of them.

“That’s great—.”

Adeshan couldn’t help himself. The sight was breathtaking. It was a sight that he believed he would only see in the distant future when he ascended to the rank of warlord.

Empires and their allies, savage enemies eager to prove their worth through war and conquest, and small nations on the fringes of the world you’ve never heard of. Each with their own sense of righteousness, they all gathered under the same banner. Believing they must save the world.

However, none of them were interested in Navarordze or his staff. They were all watching Kratyr open the portal. The portal, already 500 meters wide, was getting wider and wider.

“This is amazing, this is magic.”

“I hear you’re Lorhon’s apprentice—when this war is over, I’ll send my own child to Pileon.”

Even veterans of all sorts of adventures were watching. Adeshan wiped the moisture from his eyes and was about to drink a cup of tea to distract them when Navardoze placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

[Come on, let’s let them watch, I’ve never seen spatial magic on that scale before].

“Ah, yes.”

Adeshan has reaped the mana of Shadow. That was certainly a sight not to be missed.

Beyond the portal was a vast lake, viewed from above. It was the entrance to the mountain Balzac had spoken of. The unwavering surface of the water was covered in clouds.

“Grrr… Grrr…!”

Kratyr was squeezing mana from his body, expanding the portal. The convecting mana made his long beard dance in the air. The ragged veins looked as if they would tear into Kratyr’s forehead at any moment.

A few more minutes passed. By now the rift had widened to the point where it cut completely across the Allied lines. With a bang, Kratyr dropped to one knee and slammed his palms together.

“Haaaaah-!!”

At the same time, the water that filled the lake ripped to the left and right, revealing a world beyond the surface, and the view tilted once more to reveal a landscape under a cloudy sky. The soldiers’ eyes widened.

“Open!”

“That’s where the total headquarters—!”

“Those vampires really found you, and I’m not happy about it.”

It was a creepy sight. Up, down, left and right, everything was white. The sky, the sparse trees and grass. Even the soil beneath them was an eerie white. Kratyr, drained of most of his energy, staggered backwards. Lorhon, leaping through space, caught him.

“You’ve really grown. Kratyr.”

“Hoo hoo–she sits in the principal’s office every day and smokes crack, it’s the least I can do.”

Kratyr let out a weak laugh. A thunderous cheer erupted over the camp; he would now join the other wizards in restoring mana and providing support. Suddenly, Adeshan’s eyes narrowed as he looked beyond the portal.

“That’s—.”

No enemy troops were in sight yet. However, defensive structures such as watchtowers and bastions were dotted at regular intervals across the wilderness. The Pale Castle, the headquarters of the Nebula Clasier, stood tall at the far end of the line of buildings.

It was like a king being escorted by his soldiers. I hadn’t heard this from Balzac, but perhaps they had their own version of Mercury. Navarrozze muttered softly.

[Better to keep it short].

She knew the power of a well-timed speech in this situation. Of course, she didn’t plan to drag it out.

The Allied eyes were already focused on her as she finished watching. After a moment’s consideration, Navarordze was about to pull away. A new scream erupted from the silence in the center of the camp.

“Wahhh! It’s dangerous!”

[Mm?

The voice was familiar. A small boy was pointing at the inside of the portal, his face white with exhaustion. It was Asel, a wizard she recognized.

Turning her head in the direction he pointed, Navarordze’s eyes widened to the point of bulging. In the distance, a pair of winged giants flapped in the air.

It seemed small compared to the giants the Alliance had faced so far, but that wasn’t what mattered right now. A spear of light flew through the wind from the giant’s hand.

“There, there’s a giant!”

“Did you know we were coming—!”

The soldiers who saw the scene in hindsight gasped in horror. Despair crossed Asher’s face. The sky was still too bright to invoke the stars’ favor.

“Oh, no!”

He hadn’t expected it to happen so soon after he’d started. The spear of light was hurtling toward his exact location. Muttering a curse, Marja leapt forward.

“Damn it, Asel!”

“Everyone’s in danger!”

Marja pulled herself back, hugging Asel with one arm. Standing in their way, Braum raised his shield. Asel was chanting a spell to try and do something. Suddenly, a shadow loomed overhead and a powerful explosion rang out.

“Huh—?!”

Asel and his men looked up sharply. Everyone’s eyes widened. Tens of thousands of red scales glittered like jewels. Thick smoke dispersed on the wind, and a gigantic red dragon appeared.

“I, Navarordje!”

Asel was stunned. It was Navardoze, back to her original form. Having shrunk to fit through the gate, she was now the size of an Itargand. Though her majesty was not diminished in the least. Navardoze sighed heavily.

You don’t even give me time to say a word.

The men who had been spared cried out in horror. Without casting a single defensive spell, she simply deflected the spear of light with her body. The scales scorched where the spear had struck, but that was all.

“I blocked that?!”

The worshippers of Nebula Clazier, watching from their watchtowers, were horrified. Even the artificial giant that had descended upon Lycophos’ body was no match for the man himself. It had been strengthened by countless improvements since Darman’s time at the Sword Festival.

“This is not going to work. I will not have the bishops or archbishops—!”

Having failed their preemptive strike, they were about to make their next move. Spreading her wings, Navardoze swooped through the portal. With a single flap of her wings, she closed the distance and bit down on the artificial giant’s neck.

[Kabillion—!

The crunching of his neck echoed. Navarordze’s teeth, forged in Ronan’s blood, tore through the deteriorating starbane like paper.

The giant’s mouth spewed gore, soaking the white earth. The thick liquid was an unpleasant purple color, a testament to its status as neither human nor giant.

With a sweep of his head, Navarrozze sent the giant’s body crashing down onto the watchtower. His spine severed, the giant could no longer stand. The screams of the faithful who had narrowly escaped death rang out.

“Now, wait!”

“Yaaaah! Save me!”

It was such a pitiful scream that it was almost sympathetic. But alas, it was not to be. The hottest flames since the beginning of time poured from Navardoze’s mouth, which opened up and down.

“Heeeeeeeeee!!”

There was no time for last words. The tidal wave of flame stretched far and wide, devouring men, giants, and watchtowers. Each watchtower was manned by men who knew how to wield the Star Spell, but they were powerless to stop her fire.

The flames rippled and died down as they reached the fortress, or rather, the shields that surrounded it. The massive bastions stood as steadfast as a breakwater, unlike the flimsy watchtowers. Navarordze clicked his tongue at the obviously thicker defenses.

[Yeah, I’m not going to take it easy on you].

Breaking through that line of defense seemed like a priority. The pale castle with the parsonage lay in the distance. It would take some effort. Just then, a pair of winged giants swooped over the dotted fortifications.

“Oh, that—!”

The soldiers were horrified. It was as if the sun had risen above the forest, the flapping of its wings echoing through the air.

They were no match for the original giants in strength, but their numbers were staggering. The artificial giants numbered in the hundreds, each one possessing a power similar to that of the nightmarish Darman at the Sword Festival.

Fear was about to cross the faces of the soldiers. Drawing in a breath until his chest burst, Navarordze looked to the sky and cried out.

【March on! Smash it before it’s smashed!】

This was a speech, if it was a speech at all. Adeshan’s voice echoed in the troops’ heads as he repeated order after order. An agitated Orse drew his bone spear from his chest.

【Whoa! Bugs!】

The spiral-twisted spear still spewed vicious energy as the Shadow Archduke and his vampires shot out in a galloping cloud.

Schlieffen, the first to reach the enemy lines, swung his sword wide. A gust of wind sliced through the sky along the path of the sword. The head of the artificial giant that had just thrown the spear shot into the air.

【…..!】

A falling, blood-spattered behemoth signaled the start of the final battle. With an earth-shattering roar, the Alliance began to charge.

****

“So. How are you feeling right now?”

“Damn, how many times am I going to ask the same question?”

“I think it’s been twenty times, and you’re asking if there are any side effects, so I’m going to hold my tongue.”

“Oh really. Okay, so—.”

Ronan scratched his head as he listened to the Savior’s words. The dizzying stench of blood was everywhere. The dismembered bodies of monsters littered the ground around him.

After the sunrise ritual, Ronan traveled with his savior to the desert where Dainhar lay. The burning azirang became a cold night breeze that brushed his cheeks. Scratching his head, he spoke up.

“It’s just, you know, normal.”