Early in the morning, the doors of the town inn were shut tight. It was the fourth day it had been closed for business.
"They ran away?"
"My lord, look! That Wild Mage burned down your property! The stables, the roof..."
THUD!
The Viscount kicked the innkeeper to the ground.
"Enough with the nonsense! They got away... Which direction? How far are they! Did you even figure out what was in their carriage?"
"They left four days ago... My lord, they're a caravan, so they can't be moving fast! The carriage was just full of hides..."
"Idiot! There was something else! The hides were just a front! You pig-brained fool! You know nothing!" the Viscount spat, delivering another kick. He took a moment to steady his breathing, then turned to the man standing silently behind him.
"They're headed for Valois, which is due south... Leopold, can you catch them?"
"I can."
Leopold, the Protector of Limborg, was the region's local military commander. This mountain of a man had been left with a body full of injuries from his time in the Empire Cavalry Brigade. His reason for joining the "Return of the Holy Mother" was simple—Her care and compassion, Her Divine Arts and Blessed Anointing Oil, soothed the constant torment his body endured far better than alcohol ever could.
In this world, suffering was omnipresent.
The Viscount vented his fury by tormenting the innkeeper. Pairs of eyes watched from hiding, and Leopold knew they belonged to the staff and maids. They were snickering, secretly rejoicing at the sight.
And later, some or all of them would suffer double the torment at the hands of that same innkeeper.
Pain and oppression cascaded down from the Divine Spirits, from the Emperor to the lowliest of slaves, magnified at every level. It was like a nerve signal reaching its extremity. Although Leopold didn't know what a nerve was, he could feel the world spasming in agony, just as his own body did.
'Only the Mother of the Earth can soothe this pain.' Leopold genuinely believed it. 'The great being has soothed me, so She will surely soothe all of humanity. I, too, can soothe the world.' Leopold saw himself as one of the World Mother's agents.
Behind him stood six able-bodied young men in matching uniforms. The cavalry unit had been funded by the Viscount and trained by Leopold; every man was a devout believer. On paper, this armed unit was the elite of the Limborg Guard. In reality, they were the Desert Hunters of the "Return of the Holy Mother" Sect.
There was something strange about the mounted troop, an incongruity anyone would spot at first glance: the Knights all wore light Soft Armor, but their horses were, without exception, completely encased in Heavy Armor. Steam billowed from the gaps between the metal plates and leather straps.
Leopold grabbed a handful of herbal powder from his satchel and held it before his mount. The horse licked it up greedily. Even more steam began to rise from its body as it let out a heavy, ragged snort.
"Move out."
The others mimicked Leopold's actions before mounting up in unison. Their steeds grew agitated, pawing at the ground, their armor clanking. At a pull of the reins from the seven Knights, the heavily armored Warhorses shot forward with a speed that surpassed even unarmored mounts, galloping furiously toward Rorschach and his party.
...
「Evening.」
Unaware of the danger rapidly approaching from behind, the caravan continued at its slow pace. A small river blocked their path. Mr. Ah Le tested the depth and the current, then decided they would cross first before making camp on the opposite bank to rest.
The river was wide but fairly shallow. The drivers pulled planks from under the carriages to assemble a makeshift raft, preventing the hooves and wheels from sinking into the muddy riverbed. While the drivers held the raft steady against the current, Singrev also jumped into the river to help. Rorschach lent a hand as well—a Mage's Hand.
They were so busy with their work that they failed to notice the trackers positioned nearby.
"Oh, thank heavens, they're finally stopping to rest!" As the caravan camped by the riverbend, two grimy-faced men lay prone on a nearby hillock, their heads covered in grassy camouflage. One of them was peering through a monocular Telescope, watching every move Rorschach and his party made.
"I thought this would be an easy job. Who knew the little troublemaker would skip taking an Airship and decide to bum a ride with a merchant caravan! He's got us playing survivalist out in the wild! The boss even paid for his ticket!"
"Think long-term... I can already see the rise of a new prodigy in the art of slacking off and bleeding the agency dry..."
"'Rise of a prodigy,' my ass. From what I've seen, the kid barely knows a handful of spells. The boss's standards are way too low, aren't they? Such a lack of ambition!"
The other man suddenly went quiet, balling his fist to signal for silence. After a long moment, he whispered, "Keep your voice down. That Ranger is already getting suspicious..."
"Things would be easier without that pretty girl, too. All that Dwarf does is drink..." The man's expression suddenly changed. He put away his Telescope. Already lying prone, he now pressed his left ear to the ground.
"Cavalry! Judging by the vibrations... a squad of about ten! They're charging, closing in fast!"
...
"POP!" The air vibrated. Rorschach made a gun shape with his hand, aimed at a wild rabbit, and sent it flying with a pop.
"Repulsive Force" + "Projectile" = [Rorschach's Air Cannon]
Rorschach realized that spells whose Casting didn't begin with Magic Concentration, like the Decomposition Skill and his current Air Cannon, generally worked by directly channeling his own Magic Power to create an effect. His personal Magic Power output was limited, which meant the spell's power was even more so after being converted into Repulsive Force and momentum—the rabbit he had just blasted away simply shook itself off and scampered off.
"Young Master Rorschach, the rabbit's even farther away now. Are you helping it escape?" the Dwarf bellowed with laughter, taking a sip from his large Silver Pot. There wasn't much left in it; he'd been nursing it with small sips for the past two days.
"The earth is shaking," Singrev said, suddenly lowering his pot. His blissful expression turned serious.
"Relax, Sing. This isn't your home in the Northern Mountain Range. There are no earthquakes here."
The Ranger dropped to one knee and pressed a hand to the earth. "No, he's right. The ground is shaking." After a moment, he added, "It's rhythmic, and the pace is fast... Horses. More than one."
Mr. Ah Le immediately roared, "Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
Everyone scrambled back onto their horses or into the carriages, which quickly formed a defensive circle.
In the time it took them to do this, a troop of cavalry appeared on the horizon, charging toward the caravan.
'The cavalry garrisoned at Limborg? Or are they connected to the Underground Sect?' It was too late to flee. Mr. Ah Le and three of his Guards moved their horses to protect the caravan, placing themselves between it and the approaching riders.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
The seven oncoming, heavily armored Warhorses created an oppressive presence. As the caravan's occupants watched in the fading sunlight, the Knights came to a halt on the opposite riverbank. A cold evening wind swept along the shore, carrying a foul, metallic stench from the riders' direction toward Rorschach.
The man in the lead introduced himself. "I am Leopold, the Protector of Limborg. I am investigating a case of arson. Have any of you recently stayed at the inn in the nearby town?"
Singrev breathed a sigh of relief and bellowed across the river, "That's wonderful, Lord Protector! You have to serve us justice! The owner of that inn is a Cultist! He's a believer in the... uh... 'Go Home to Your Mommy' Sect or something! I mean, who in their right mind would believe in that stuff? You should go investigate him right away!"
Leopold remained impassive, but the Knights behind him grew visibly enraged. "Insolence!" "Blasphemy!"
'Go Home to Your Mommy... It's the "Return of the Holy Mother" Sect,' Rorschach thought, then said to the Dwarf, "Look, they're furious. Doesn't it occur to you that they might be with the 'Return of the Holy Mother' Sect?"
The words had barely left his mouth when the Knights drew their bows. A volley of arrows sliced through the air toward them.
"Watch out!"