When the rainstorm ceased, the mosquitoes returned with a vengeance.
Scott and Shati used magic to drive away the approaching swarms, while Azadin, mounted on the back of a Kerim mountain goat, cycled through the copies of the Book of the Divine King in his possession, refining the mana within his body.
By circulating the potent white magic power accumulated in the copies of the Book of the Divine King, strengthening his own mana, his Beauty of Nature, and Kazas's Haeseo also grew steadily more powerful.
At first, the difference was hardly noticeable, but now the growth was undeniable.
Yet, perhaps because of the constant traveling, it was difficult to focus properly.
The words Arael had spoken lingered in Azadin's mind.
If what she said was true, then both Aldis and Kazas—who had become his spiritual anchors—were ultimately moving within the schemes of the Elder Council.
As individuals, they might be virtuous, but the will of the Elder Council was undoubtedly sinister, which meant that those loyal to it were inevitably tainted by evil.
"Nagas attacking Bruma, and a chief seeking to usurp Bruma's throne… Hm, how should I stop it? And if I end up standing against the chief, will I really be able to curb their ambitions? On top of that, what if Master or Aldis side with the chief? Though I've returned as the Emperor's Second Command, I could end up bound again by the Curse of Service…."
His thoughts grew ever more tangled. Though he had set out with the conviction of saving people, he truly had no sharp countermeasure prepared.
If he faltered, those who followed him would also tremble in fear, so he put up a front of confidence. But in truth, Azadin was also venturing into the unknown.
"The Blue Sky Order seems to be quite influential… If only I could somehow use them to gain aid."
But would it truly work out? If Arael's words were right, then the gathering of the Blue Sky Order in great numbers would be dangerous in itself.
At that moment, a voice snapped Azadin out of his brooding.
***
"Uh… a fine day to you."
Between Adirof Territory and the Kingdom of Bruma, in the vague borderlands, an armed band camping by the roadside with a fire greeted Azadin's party.
The men wore decent armor and carried hunting bows and arrows, but their heavy armor was far too cumbersome for hunters, making them seem odd.
"Just bandits. They're wary because our group is large."
Azadin recognized them as bandits, but rather than provoke them, he returned the greeting.
"A good day. We're bound for Bruma—any news along the way?"
"News? Well, be careful. Madmen turning into monsters killed people we knew and fled into Bruma."
"Monsters? You mean werewolves?"
"No, not that…."
"Then trees taking root in men?"
Azadin mentioned the treants, but again they shook their heads.
"No, neither. But they are certainly terrible monsters. Do you see there?"
"…"
Azadin looked—by the roadside, a tree was broken, stained faintly with something that had once been blood, now mostly washed away by the storm yesterday.
"They struck our brother there. He was hurled into the tree, shattering it like that. His body…"
"When we tried to give him a burial, we had to gather pieces into a sack."
The bandits shuddered as they spoke.
"They keep appearing along the Bruma–Korasar border, killing people. Be on your guard."
"We too search for them, to avenge our brother, but to be honest… our courage is waning."
"Is that so?"
Clicking his tongue, Azadin listened.
They were indeed bandits, but it seemed they had some loyalty among themselves—to venture into a hopeless battle after a companion had been slaughtered so brutally.
"Still, their equipment is quite good. They must have some skill."
Azadin walked up to the tree to see if anything remained.
Before long, he found a small piece of flesh wedged into the bark. Though it had been severed from its body for some time, it still twitched like a leech, glistening.
Azadin knew well this kind of nether spawn.
"Hmm… this is…"
"What is it?"
"Sir Zebeck. You recognize this?"
"Ah, this…"
Zebeck frowned at the leech-like scrap of flesh.
"Could it be Sir Zekt?"
"It's not Zekt himself."
"And why do you think so?"
"Well, from the perspective of the King's Church Inquisitors, the changing of the throne in Coral Sahar is a far greater matter than coming to Bruma. And that one would never abandon his flamboyant golden armor. If it were Sir Zekt, tales of a golden holy knight would already be spreading. No… most likely Zekt went toward Coral Sahar, while these creatures moved separately."
"That… makes sense."
Zebeck, seeing the reasoning, admired Azadin once more.
Time and again, Azadin could deduce swiftly and grasp the truth with only fragments of information.
Even though Zebeck was a holy knight who had undergone training, Azadin was still on an entirely different level.
"Still, I'd better prepare."
Perched on the swaying mountain goat, Azadin whittled wood, fixing on iron coin arrowheads to craft arrows, and readied the heavy steel bow he had salvaged from a heavy crossbow.
"W-what are you doing?"
Jiswa, flustered, asked Azadin.
"Preparing for battle. Don't worry too much. It's nothing special."
"H-how can preparing for battle be nothing special!?"
Not only Jiswa, but even the refugees and the members of the Blue Sky Order began trembling in unease.
"What's this? You Blue Sky Order lot boast about catching bandits and monsters around here while shaking down others, yet now you're quaking?"
"T-that's…."
"When we patrolled, the bandits just cleared off the roads to avoid us."
"So you've got no real combat experience?"
"Y-yes."
"Then all you did was swagger in front of the weak and bully them. Don't worry. This time I'll make men out of you."
"Uh… yes."
"T-that is…."
The Blue Sky Order members thought back to the shattered tree, the scraps of flesh stuck in it, and the heavily armed bandits camping by the roadside earlier.
Unlike the ragtag Blue Sky Order, the bandits were heavily equipped and clearly seasoned with battle. Even such veterans had fallen before these unknown foes—yet now they were expected to prove their "manliness" before them. None of them truly wanted to.
But for now, Azadin was their Taoist master. It was too late to turn back.
"Quite entertaining, when it's not my problem."
Shati, dragged along by Azadin's whims, smirked at the cowed members of the Blue Sky Order.
***
"Grhh… impossible! We, children of the King of Fang, far stronger than you humans!"
A bloodied ogre roared in denial of reality.
The children of the King of Fang—legions of ogres, hobgoblins, and goblins—had marched down from the mountains.
These tribes who raised yaks in the highlands would, when hunger struck, muster vast warbands and descend the mountain paths to raid humans.
But now, they had been annihilated—slaughtered by strange humanlike creatures.
"We… we were to raid Bruma together with the Naga Empire! If you stand against us now, you are making a grave mistake!"
"Kekeke. Do we look like followers of the Kurt Pantheon to you?"
"Did you hear that? An ogre begging for its life!"
The human-shaped monsters who had felled the ogre warband laughed mockingly.
"Then you're just humans? If so, ogres eat, and humans are eaten. It cannot be otherwise."
—CRACK!
One man shoved his arm deep into the babbling ogre's maw.
Then he expanded it—dark-red worms writhed, flooding into the ogre's body and devouring it from within.
The ogre thrashed in agony, but its shattered limbs rendered all resistance futile.
"Phew."
The man looked around. Over fifty goblin corpses and three ogres lay scattered, slain without much difficulty.
"A tremendous victory. A feat worthy of the heroes of legend—and I accomplished it myself."
The speaker was the man who once, on the border between Lantarik and Salasma, had called himself the Bandit King: Doneor.
"Yes, we too are…"
Doneor's underlings, perched atop the mountain of goblin corpses, were drunk on their newfound strength.
The exhilaration of victory, the intoxication of newfound power, and the carnal thrill as the black worms flowing from their bodies devoured corpses—all of it dulled their reason.
"With this strength, we could never lose to anyone."
"Yes, not even that Inquisitor."
The Inquisitor they spoke of was the corrupted judge of the King's Church, Zekt.
Transformed into monsters by Zekt, they had come to the borders of the Kingdom of Bruma at his command. The king's virtue shone weakest along these borderlands. Here they attacked both men and beasts, growing stronger and gathering information.
"So what now? If we're not likely to lose even to that Inquisitor anymore, should we still linger here at his orders?"
"No… let's keep strengthening ourselves here a while longer. The light of the king's virtue torments us too much."
Doneor's feelings were conflicted.
He could now clearly sense the light of the king's virtue—because it inflicted pain upon him.
The meaning was plain: they were no longer human. They had to be called monsters.
Yet at the same time, their steadily growing power awakened their ambition and greed.
Even as ordinary men, Doneor and his gang had delighted in tormenting others, in beatings and cruelty.
The violence and torture they had inflicted upon Brand and others in those lands had been horrific beyond measure.
Already insane with the frenzy of violence, they had now only gained fleshly shells befitting their nature. For travelers passing through the region, they had become a true catastrophe.
"Hm?"
Then Doneor spotted, in the distance, a band of travelers approaching. Some were armed, others not; their shabby appearance marked them as refugees rather than merchants.
"More guests. Let's catch them and kill them."
Doneor licked his lower lip.
Forgetting Zekt's orders, ignoring the reality that they were now monsters driven by the light of the king's virtue, he only wanted to revel in the ecstasy of violence.
Doneor and his followers, spurred on by hunger and lust for blood, charged down the hillside.