EP.143 The Enemy Meets on a Narrow Bridge (1)
The moment Raniel stepped outside the church, she felt something was off. It felt like her tongue had turned stiff. With a furrowed brow, Raniel opened her mouth.
“…What the?”
The feeling was similar to the strange sensation when she formed a contract with Star. It was a kind of ‘constraint.’ Raniel touched the part where the constraint lay.
“Heretic, Gletus…”
The First Saint.
The following words remained unspoken. The same applied to other disasters. The knowledge she gained inside that church could not be expressed aloud by Raniel.
‘…So this is the constraint Cardi was talking about.’
She finally had an inkling of what the ‘constraint’ was that Cardi always mentioned when he couldn’t elaborate. Truly, it was a very picky constraint.
‘Only those who meet the conditions can realize the truth.’
Raniel asked Star what those conditions were.
「The condition is to step into the ‘Kurak’s research facility’ defined by the first contractor.」
“So, what’s the condition to enter the research facility?”
「Steal the remnants of Star from the Blade of Death or the heretic. The first contractor defined the remnants of Star as ‘the Shadow’s Sword’ and ‘Deloheim’s Arm.’」
“…Heh.”
What a crazy elf.
Muttering to herself, Raniel glanced back. The church door was firmly shut. While she said this, Raniel was aware as well.
‘That means the transaction can only be established if a nearly impossible constraint is imposed.’
Finding cracks in the originally formed contract was no easy task.
To perform the difficult task, a more intricate and troublesome method had to be chosen.
“…”
Raniel looked at the key in her hand. The key that Cardi had pulled from the heretic’s arm.
‘I used the key to open the door initially.’
Now she could open the door without the key.
‘The key wasn’t really needed.’
The key was a kind of symbol.
A symbol that signified achieving the condition.
Why did the symbol take the form of a key? It was something she couldn’t understand. Only Gletus and Cardi, the owners of the key, would know.
“I’ll have to ask later.”
Raniel moved her feet.
As she walked a bit, a harsh blizzard caught her sight. The only place where sunlight warmed was the peak of the Kurakt Mountain Range. To descend the mountain, she would have to cross that blizzard again.
“Whew…”
Raniel exhaled deeply.
Climbing the mountain had been a tiring task for her as well. The thought of breaking through the blizzard again caused her to let out another sigh. However, her steps weren’t heavy.
‘It wasn’t a meaningless step.’
She had seen forgotten history.
She realized the truth that Cardi wanted to convey.
And she had received the ‘next’ that had continued for centuries.
‘The possibilities they left behind.’
A beacon to illuminate her path.
The possibility prepared for the future, with a determination that had lasted for centuries by the sage of the past. What she held was exactly that.
Squeeze.
Raniel grasped the two wooden boxes in her arms. In her embrace were two identical wooden boxes. One was the arm of the heretic that had turned into a disaster, and the other was the arm of the First Saint.
What had been passed from the past to the present.
Holding that, Raniel thought.
‘I still don’t know everything.’
Cardi had written this as the ‘third’ contract in his letter. So what were the first and second contracts?
What was the reason they had fallen?
What was the identity of the Demon Lord?
What was the kingdom they had resided in that had completely disappeared from history?
She couldn’t know.
There were still many unknowns, but…
“Still, it’s okay.”
Raniel murmured to herself.
Unlike the past, where she knew nothing about the so-called ancient times, she felt like she was now at the starting point of everything.
‘I’m not just walking a daunting path.’
The road ahead was long.
But she could see the path that had to be walked.
It was a road that someone had once walked centuries ago, left for the next unpredictable time.
‘…It’s long and treacherous.’
As long as there was a path, there was no reason not to walk it.
If it’s impossible for her, she could just keep walking to the next and the next. Just like the heroes and elves of the past had done.
“Whew.”
With a short exhalation, Raniel raised her head.
She took a big step into the blizzard.
It was time to return.
2.
“Where are you in such a hurry to go?”
“Oh, Lord Lac.”
The warriors who would usually be training were moving busily. Lac, feeling a sense of discomfort at that sight, called one of the warriors over.
“It’s about that…”
From among Eryhal’s thirteen warriors, the third-ranked one, the Eagle Eye, Oyakal approached Lac. At that moment, Lac narrowed his eyes. Something was off.
‘…Only thirteen warriors.’
All the warriors preparing to go somewhere belonged to the thirteen. Upon closer inspection, the atmosphere was different from usual.
“…”
The faces of the warriors were stiff. A cold air flowed amongst them. They were silently fastening spurs to their boots. After a brief pause, Oyakal continued to speak.
“There was an attack on Hameln Village.”
“…What?”
Lac blinked blankly.
Oyakal pressed his temple and explained.
“Hameln Village, as you know, is a remote village. It’s located near the Kurakt Mountain Range, so magic communication doesn’t reach properly. It seems they thought it was the perfect place to attack.”
However, Oyakal said.
“The residents there are old or retired from the front lines, but… they are warriors nonetheless.”
“That’s…”
“The attackers likely underestimated them.”
Oyakal furrowed his brow.
“Last night, an old man arrived in the capital. He was injured while crossing the blizzard and passed away as soon as he arrived, but…”
Oyakal gritted his teeth.
“His last words carried a message.”
A retired warrior.
Yet, the old man, born of warrior blood, managed to convey information just before his breath ceased.
“They were attacked.”
The village had been assaulted.
“White-armored ones, who look like holy knights, attacked the village.”
“…Holy knights?”
Lac frowned.
As he stroked his chin, Lac spoke.
“What did my father say?”
“Show those lunatic zealots the terror of the North, he said. Lady Failia commanded us to gather ‘evidence.’”
Why gather evidence?
Lac, who knew little of politics, found it easy to guess the reason when he considered his father’s character.
“…Father must be preparing to head to the Holy City.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
His father was such a person.
The warriors of the North never forget humiliation. They don’t forget revenge. And Eryhal von Grace was always ready to bite back at anyone who touched what was his…
“Oyakal.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Those thirteen warriors are headed for Hameln, right?”
“Yes.”
Hmm, Lac nodded.
“I’ll go too.”
“…You, my lord?”
“I won’t be a bother if it’s in the way.”
Oyakal remained silent for a moment.
Would it be a bother? It was not. Lac had already reached a level of skill comparable to the thirteen warriors.
‘Just like before going to the Academy…’
Since returning to the North, Lac had grown remarkably stronger, especially in the last week. He was growing day by day. Oyakal narrowed his eyes.
‘I’d like to allow it.’
However, it was a march that came with danger.
It wasn’t a matter for him to decide alone. Oyakal cautiously spoke.
“I should ask the Duke…”
“Go and return.”
A voice was heard from behind Oyakal.
Both Oyakal and Lac turned to look where the voice was coming from.
“It’s fine to be with the warriors, Lac.”
There stood Eryhal, draped in a white bear’s pelt. The warriors slightly bowed their heads toward him. Eryhal waved as if to say not to mind him and continued speaking.
“The one who will become the master of the North must always be with the warriors. A ruler who merely reigns has no place in the North. Only a warrior who stands together is the master of the North.”
He lightly tapped Lac on the shoulder.
“Go and show them the terror of the North.”
Lac nodded.
Eryhal smiled in satisfaction and turned away.
“I’m heading to the Holy City. I think I have quite a bit to say to those damn zealots at this opportunity.”
With that said and accompanied by three warriors as his escort, Eryhal mounted the carriage. After watching him for a moment, once the duke departed, Oyakal spoke.
“My lord.”
The warriors completed their preparations.
As a representative of the warriors, Oyakal asked.
“Will you be able to keep up?”
The fastest among the warriors had gathered.
They would have to sprint nonstop to the remote village at the shortest distance possible. There would be no room to take care of those who couldn’t keep up. That was why Oyakal asked.
Would he be able to keep up?
In response to that question, Lac silently nodded.
3.
The blizzard that enveloped the peak of the Kurakt Mountain Range.
Raniel, emerging through the blizzard, exhaled sharply. The breath she released turned white.
“Ugh.”
Shivering, Raniel brushed off her arms and shook off the snowflakes clinging to her clothes. She thought descending would be easier than climbing, but that was half right and half wrong.
‘Speed does pick up, but… I can’t control the speed.’
She almost stumbled and fell flat on the ground.
Taking a sigh, Raniel stretched briefly. From here, the blizzard was less intense. In the more favorable environment, her tension naturally eased.
Thud.
Raniel took light steps. Just as she was about to take another step, she jolted, her body trembling. Raniel narrowed her eyes.
“…”
The hairs on her back stood on end.
The training she had received from the battlefield rang warning bells. Her sensitivity picked up on a small noise.
Swish.
The sound of a blade slicing through the air.
The sound of a thin blade vibrating gently.
Raniel read the flow of the air. Something was approaching, pushing against the air.
‘The target is…’
Her throat.
Raniel instinctively tilted her head back. She twisted her body. At the same moment, something passed over her head.
Swoosh.
The tips of Raniel’s hair were severed. What had brushed past was a sword. A very sharp blade, honed to perfection.
In the moment of tension being released for just an instant.
Taking advantage of that opening, a precise attack was thrust in. Even though it missed, the opponent did not flinch. The trajectory of the horizontally swung sword distorted. The tip of the blade followed after the off-balance Raniel.
Off-balance stance, unsteady footing.
The average person would have been unable to react to the follow-up blow at that moment. However, Raniel was not an ordinary knight. She didn’t need to stabilize her posture. She merely flicked her finger.
Smite.
The charged spell burst forth in light.
Ka-ching!
A brilliant flash shot upward and knocked the blade away. The flash was not a single beam. Five or six rays of light targeted the mysterious assailant. He swung his sword to deflect the flash.
Clank, ka-ching!
Taking one step back from one flash.
The one who had taken five steps back raised his head. His hair fluttered in the incoming wind.
“Hey.”
The revealed face of the assailant made Raniel frown.
“What are you doing?”
She stared at the assailant in front of her.
There was no way she wouldn’t recognize that obnoxious face. Raniel scrunched her face as if she just tasted a bug.
‘Sword Demon, Draka.’
The being known by that name opened his mouth.
“Well.”
Draka lowered the tip of his sword. Lightly turning his ragged collar, he exhaled briefly.
“I’d rather like to ask.”
He raised the tip of the sword that he had lowered again.
That blade pointed at Raniel.
“Weren’t you retired? Ashen Mage.”
