Chapter 330 - Invitation (1)
The forgotten land, covered by a gray sky.
The earth, which could not endure the endless passage of time and lost its vitality, and the collapsed fortress, were reduced to desolation.
There was a man standing there.
The skin revealed beneath the robe he wore was close to gray. A chilling complexion, as though life and death were intertwined within it.
His body seemed healthy enough, with flesh in the right places, but both hands were filled with deep, ancient wrinkles.
In his right hand, missing its ring finger, he held a withered staff, as black as if cursed, stained in ink-darkness.
It was a contradiction.
As though he were an existence to whom life itself had been denied.
If anyone were to see the man's face, they would immediately conclude he was not among the living.
But such thoughts and judgments were meaningless.
Regardless of what others might say, he stood here, his feet firmly on the ground.
Only, he did not breathe the same air beneath this world.
"..."
The man, who had been staring at the sky through the collapsed ceiling, lowered his head.
When he rolled up his sleeve at the tingling sensation, one of the seven ancient characters engraved on his forearm was twisting.
"So, the mayor of Riverungr has been discovered."
The black magic that had been tied to the mayor's soul.
An ancient curse, triggered at the very moment when the four curses that had been placed upon him were forcibly erased.
Crk, crkk.
The man raised his nails and clawed at his skin.
He shredded his flesh, distorting the twisted character. Through it, he sensed the life of the mayor of Riverungr and stirred his magic power.
A black magic that bursts life apart while still alive.
Naturally, the mayor, unable to resist, was killed instantly. The distorted character twisting itself inside out proved it.
But the character did not vanish.
That meant the ancient curse had not completely disappeared, but instead left a brand upon a specific target.
He immediately focused his mind.
In the darkness that swept past in an instant, he felt something.
A familiar, loathsome, and utterly hateful aura… from the branded target, divine power was detected.
Judging from the life force, it was a woman.
If she had survived even after being branded, she was at least of upper-bishop rank.
"Unexpected."
The timing of discovery was earlier than he had anticipated.
And worse, not by one of the archbishops, but merely by a bishop.
Had some variable intervened midway?
Either way, since he had obtained a certain clue from the Kailiens, the Luas Church would now pursue him with a vengeance.
Not only with upper bishops or paladins, but accompanied by one of the Seven Archbishops themselves.
A corner of the Luas Church.
A force that could never be underestimated.
'Of course, there is no problem.'
The situation was still proceeding smoothly.
He had completed the minimum preparations not long ago. The intervention of the Luas Church was exactly as planned, precisely what he had desired.
'Still, it would be somewhat disappointing to leave matters as they are.'
He knew where the archbishop was.
And he knew where the branded upper bishop would meet him. Everything was clear, as though in the palm of his hand.
That was why he intended to extend a special invitation.
He would drag the archbishop onto the stage of death, and create the perfect situation to confirm the variables surrounding him.
The man twisted his lips.
With a satisfied voice laced with reverence, he spoke.
"For the Glory of the Dead."
***
The Glory of the Dead.
The group that once possessed a black magus like the White Bones Viola, and handled a special undead known as the Grim Reaper, had inflicted devastating damage upon the Kingdom of Estiria.
They shattered the diocese of the Luas Church and killed two bishops.
Not only that, they turned the entire southern kingdom into a wasteland with their undead armies. The casualties numbered in the thousands at minimum, and if refugees were included, tens of thousands.
Even the granary region was tainted by the aura of the undead.
Forget the purification through divine power—famine was now inevitable.
If one were to count all those affected by such issues, the number of victims would easily reach hundreds of thousands.
'And yet, the Glory of the Dead appeared in the Kailiens.'
For what reason?
It could not be some petty act of terror.
When hearing the name Glory of the Dead, and the words, For the great Glory of the Dead, one could sense that they had a purpose.
The great dead… it seemed to be some kind of keyword, but there was no way to decipher even a fragment of its meaning at present.
There was simply too little information to fuel any speculation.
'But that the situation is grave is obvious.'
The mayor of Riverungr had fallen.
Which meant that the other six cities that made up the Kailiens were likely already ensnared as well.
Better to state outright that it was certain.
'And then there's the curse upon Bishop Lena.'
Her hand, completely blackened.
Thanks to her divine power, it didn't seem to inflict direct harm on her, but there might be hidden effects.
For example, the caster of the curse might be able to track her in real-time.
'Whatever the case, only the archbishop holds the answer.'
Only they could lift a curse that even an upper bishop could not.
Even if the meeting place were exposed to the Glory of the Dead, it could not be helped. That risk had to be accepted.
Verden made his decision, and summoned his companions.
"From now, we will abandon the ship and make contact with the archbishop."
"Th-the archbishop…!"
Bishop Lena trembled slightly.
She had never faced an archbishop except during the completion ceremony of the bishop course.
The Seven Archbishops.
The representatives of the Luas Church, their authority was far beyond the reach of a mere young bishop.
Leira spoke.
"Indeed, traveling along the river restricts our range of movement, making it disadvantageous. It's far too easy to be tracked. Ultimately, abandoning the ship is the natural choice."
But.
"The village in the northeast, our meeting place, is quite far. Forcing Bishop Lena into a hard march would be difficult. So, why don't we travel along the river as far as we can, then find a carriage nearby?"
Not a bad idea.
From a conventional standpoint, it was a sound suggestion.
If not for the fact that Verden possessed the national treasure of the Royal Family of Estiria, [Raindia].
"There is already a carriage."
Thud.
From subspace, a carriage appeared upon the deck.
Verden's personal carriage, stripped of any horses. When he spread
"I will handle the driving myself, so please board."
Leira blinked.
Meanwhile, Adrian and Bishop Lena moved.
"Excuse me, my lord."
"Wow, a carriage driven directly by magic from a mage. Never thought I'd ride in such a luxurious carriage in my lifetime! Can I sit anywhere?"
The two entered the carriage.
Right after, Verden used
The rumors, bordering on ghost stories, that had been drifting around the border of the Kailiens.
"A carriage, running silently, slaughtering demi-humans with magic… was that you?"
"…?"
"Ah, if you don't know, then never mind. It's nothing important, don't mind it. Anyway, it's fortunate we already have a means of transport. Sorry to rely entirely on your magic… but I leave it to you."
At last, Leira entered the carriage.
After confirming everyone was seated, Verden activated his mana circuits.
The carriage floated into the air, leaving the ship, crossing the riverbank, and landing on solid ground. All four wheels spun at once, accelerating into speed.
Deep tracks pressed into the ground under the weight of the carriage stretched in a straight line behind them.
The destination lay in the northeast village,currently one of the danger zones swarming with demi-humans.
***
A band of mercenaries was galloping along the riverside.
The chill of winter dampened their skin,
the breaths of men and horses turned white, scattering like mist before vanishing. Their eyes were fixed only on the Hefin River.
Then, one mercenary at the front pointed ahead.
"Hey! That's the stolen ship!"
Everyone's eyes lit up.
They were a hastily gathered group of mercenaries tasked with pursuing wanted criminals, more trackers than true bounty hunters.
Providing information alone brought in considerable coin.
"Should we just report this to Riverungr? Getting any closer seems dangerous."
There were three wanted individuals in total.
One, wearing a metal mask, was unidentified, but the other two had been exposed.
One was a noble of the Kingdom of Estiria.
The other, the mithril-ranked adventurer, the Crimson Sword, Leira.
Why they killed the mayor and the guardian, and kidnapped a bishop, they did not know, nor was it their business to find out.
Capturing them was not their duty either.
The former perhaps, but the latter was beyond their ability to handle.
So, they would provide location details and collect their reward.
For mercenaries starved for coin, that was all there was to it.
"I'd like that too, but it's strangely quiet. The sails aren't raised properly, and there's no one in sight. Seems they abandoned ship… we should search it."
What the Kailiens wanted was the location of the fugitives.
Not the whereabouts of the stolen ship. If they returned now, they wouldn't get a single coin.
With no choice, the mercenaries carefully boarded the ship.
As expected, it was empty.
"There's really nothing here."
"Still, since they had a bishop with them, they must've left some trace. If we search the area thoroughly, we'll at least find some footprints."
This wasn't a loss.
Tracking always required a delicate balance.
Finish too quickly, and the job seemed easy, lowering their reward. Too slow, and someone else might steal the contract.
Protecting one's bowl of rice was always important.
"…Hm?"
It was then.
From a distance, a strange group approached.
'Associates?'
Counting them, there were three.
Fewer in number than themselves.
The mercenaries, who had dismounted, kept their hands on their weapons as they welcomed the uninvited guests.
"Whoever you are, this is our job. If you don't want blood spilled, turn back quietly."
The edge of a blade glinted coldly.
Of the three who faced them, the man wearing strange bracelets on both wrists waved with a laugh.
"Haha, you must be mistaken. We're not here to interfere with you. In fact, we came to help."
"Help…? Who the hell are you?"
"We are these people."
The man pulled out a document from his robe.
Proof that they had come from 'Surdmil', one of the cities of the Kailiens. With none other than the mayor's own signature.
One mercenary raised his brow.
"Riverungr's news already reached Surdmil? Well, with a nationwide bounty, it's not impossible… but even if you moved quickly, it's too short a time to travel here from there."
"The mayor is monitoring this incident with utmost severity… That's all I can say for now."
Whether it was true or not, they couldn't be sure.
But it wasn't a major problem. The certificate itself was genuine.
"So, how do you plan on helping us? What, you'll pay us extra?"
"We will help you directly locate the fugitives."
"How?"
At that moment, the man's bracelet activated.
"Like this."
An ominous wave swept across the area.
As the mercenaries hastily reached for their weapons, rotten roots suddenly erupted from the ground, entangling men and horses alike.
"Uaaargh!"
"Shit, wh-what the hell…!!"
"These are special roots that absorb vitality and inject deathly energy. Against those with high resistance, they do no harm… but clearly, that does not apply to you."
Shrrk.
The mercenaries, unable to escape, withered away.
"Guh… ahh… gah…!"
All color drained from their flesh.
One by one, their lifeless skin sloughed off, filling the air with foul stench. Even the panicked horses fell silent soon after.
What remained were bone horses and skeletons—dozens of undead riders.
"Hm, it's a pity no Death Knights were born… but it can't be helped. This should be enough numbers."
The man raised his arm.
He pointed directly northeast, giving his command.
"Go there, join the other undead, and follow their orders."
[───!]
The undead riders charged at once.
Deathly energy poured from them, corrupting the earth. Looking at the withered weeds, blackened under hoofprints, the man turned his horse.
"The invitations have been delivered, so let's leave. We must not trouble the 'Fourth Servant'. Let's hurry past the border."
The man and the other two turned back the way they had come.
"For the Glory of the Dead."
***
The silent carriage pierced through the forest.
Along the way, several demi-humans bared their teeth, but were destroyed before they could even approach.
Verden's magic was not something mere beasts could endure.
And finally.
"…We've arrived."
A small village in the northeast, surrounded by thick palisades.
After storing the carriage into subspace, the four approached the village gate.
At that moment, the gate opened, and a figure clad head to toe in white metal appeared.
Bishop Lena's eyes widened.
"A real pa-paladin…!"
A paladin, a holy knight under the direct command of the archbishop.
He looked at Verden, Bishop Lena, Adrian, and Leira one by one.
"Follow me."
The paladin turned his back and headed into the village.
As Verden's party followed him, the village scene unfolded before their eyes. People lived within, yet… not a single ordinary person.
'All of them bear divine power.'
Had they taken over a village abandoned during the demi-human overflow?
This was effectively a forward base of the Luas Church, comprised of paladins and priests.
Clunk.
They followed the paladin into a wooden building.
At the center stood a shabby desk, surrounded by many chairs.
The paladin jerked his chin.
"Sit. The archbishop will arrive soon."
His tone was commanding, almost overbearing.
As a chosen holy knight and protector of the archbishop, it was natural enough. Nothing strange about it.
But.
"Your tone has been grating for a while now."
Adrian Chambers.
He was Verden's sword.
"Did the Church not teach you manners, paladin?"
Any discourtesy his lord did not tolerate, he would cut down.
No matter who it was.
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