Chapter 465 - Migration (2)
His mind snapped wide awake.
"This is my lord's...."
Adrian tried to gauge the staff's origin with his own discernment, but he learned nothing.
Other than the fact that it contained a force beyond common sense.
Everyone except Verden had their eyes fixed on Interis, unable to look away. The reaction of the mages was especially intense.
Just being near it felt as though their mana circuits were being washed clean... a strange and refreshing sensation.
The blue glow reflected in their eyes.
As if possessed, Unia slowly approached with her mouth agape.
"This is your new staff, senior...? Its name, what's its name?"
"The End of Order, Interis."
"The End of Order? Interis sounds fitting enough, but the epithet is pretty violent. I can't even begin to imagine what level of item it is... hey, can I touch it?"
Unia's hands itched.
She couldn't hide her mage-like pure curiosity, nor did she try to.
Verden gladly permitted.
"I don't mind, but handle it carefully. If you make a mistake, it might rebound..."
Clench.
Before Verden even finished speaking, Unia had already grabbed Interis. A smooth metallic texture passed through her fingertips and palm.
Paaaahht!
At once, the mana radiance bursting from Interis's tip flared more strongly.
Her heart pounded.
Unia repeated exclamations of awe and shock at the thrill that shook her down to her core.
For something this powerful just from holding it.
She couldn't help but wonder how such a staff could exist.
At that moment.
"Eh."
Interis quivered, and the density of the magic power coursing through it suddenly spiked.
An overwhelming sense of danger.
Before Unia could even dodge, the orb flashed and discharged mana. A terrifying repulsion force engulfed her whole body.
Kwaang!
Unia was hurled like an arrow, colliding with the mine wall before sprawling onto the ground.
It wasn't a severe impact.
Springing up, she didn't even bother wiping the dirt off her face and clothes, instead clenching and unclenching her fists repeatedly. Then she raised her voice.
"Interis rejected me...? This, could it be an Engraved Artifact? The kind you only hear about in stories?"
Engraving, that was the restriction property by which no one except the owner could use it.
It was a trait that naturally dwelled in supreme armaments, impossible to deliberately reproduce either in the past or present.
In short, it was a function seen only in ancient artifacts.
Moreover, both [Ainber] and [Interis] in Verden's possession were forged from dragon materials, their makers none other than the Demon King himself and a legendary dwarf.
Their standing was on a different level, even among ancient artifacts.
Those who didn't know the details of Verden's [Ainber], mesmerized by the sight of their first Engraved Artifact, could not step away.
"So this is a staff at the level of an ancient artifact...."
"No wonder just looking at it was intoxicating."
"Looking closely, there are even numerous high-grade runes embedded. Hah, the artificial artifacts the magic towers create can't even hold a candle to this. Wh, what in the world is it made from?"
Heras and the other mages of the Society gathered to encircle Interis, swept up in uncontainable excitement.
"...."
Cain wore his usual near-expressionless face, but at some point, he had gotten the closest to Interis.
──Puuong!
Lightly brushing Interis, Cain was flung away just like Unia. Rolling across the ground, he immediately rushed back with sparkling eyes.
While Unia squealed, analyzing Interis with a magical gaze, Cain's hardened expression declared his intent to try again.
Then, an old dwarf approached.
"If you keep pestering Interis like that, you'll get it good one of these times. That's a weapon created solely for Asher."
"Huh? Who are you, grandpa?"
Gharun crossed his arms.
"The dwarf who led the creation of that staff."
***
Countless eyes turned toward Gharun.
Verden personally introduced him.
"The Hammer with Integrity, Gharun. He designed Interis from start to finish, leading every dwarf here and Linus as well, the one and only master dwarf who oversaw its creation."
"This old man...?"
"That's right, kid."
Gharun shifted his gaze.
One by one, he looked at Unia, Adrian, Cain, Isabella, then stroked his beard.
"Hmph, as I suspected, so it is. Fitting that those who follow you are each unusual. Though in many ways still unripe."
"Make me one of those too!"
"Me too."
"This is the first time anyone's ever made such reckless requests of me. Brats, how can I forge without even a smelter? And if you want something like that, then come back once you're as prepared as Asher."
Gharun scowled, but of course Unia and Cain weren't the least bit intimidated. The Society's attention now shifted entirely onto Gharun.
Having heard he was a legendary dwarf, their fervor only grew.
Someone asked Linus.
"I know it's rude, but I must ask. Can a blacksmith still work with only one arm?"
"Of course. I apprenticed under Gharun here, and I've long since adapted after losing an arm. Hm, yes. If I tell you that I was the one who crafted Lord Asher's previous staff, Orient, does that answer your question?"
"...!!"
At Linus's claim that he was Orient's creator, those who had seen Verden's former staff lit up with amazement.
The Society's mages, overflowing with intellectual thirst, bombarded him with questions.
Linus responded as sincerely as he could, and unexpectedly, even Gharun answered bluntly without much reluctance.
The inside of the mine grew boisterous.
Watching, Verden turned his head.
"Geradin, how is this mine? Lacking anything for a village?"
"Haha, lacking? Compared to that freezing underground, this is paradise. I like it very much. With this scale, I think we can expand layer by layer, like a fortress. Of course, it won't be like a clan... unless you make us magma again."
The dwarf clans operated fortresses powered by volcanic heat.
As with the facilities at the Black Volcano, if Verden created a magma lake and oversaw its management, they could imitate the clan's way of living to some degree.
"That won't be a problem. And as for construction materials, make a list and send it to me. I'll prepare everything."
"Straightforward as ever. Truly a Tran... hmph."
The fact that he was a Transcendent was a secret.
Geradin reflexively clamped his mouth shut and nodded.
"Thank you."
The dwarf chieftain, who had been putting on weight since escaping the Abyss, grinned brightly.
Then, with small steps, Geradin mingled with the dwarves of the village, talking and laughing boisterously.
"It's an ideal atmosphere."
"And that's a relief."
Verden and Adrian watched the mingling of dwarves and mages.
A common enough peace, but no matter how one looked, it was a novel sight.
Verden spoke.
"Unlike when you were barehanded, now you've obtained a staff suited to your level. Do you feel like testing yourself as before?"
"My desire to is burning, but I must decline. I can't promise to show a better performance than last time, and besides..."
Adrian confessed his instinct.
"You seem greatly changed since I last saw you, my lord."
Change... it was only natural.
Apart from obtaining Interis, he had clashed head-on with the Arnak Empire's three Lords, the Oath-bound Knight Order, and even Arnak's sword itself.
Compared to when he had awakened in the Blue Mountains, Verden now, as a Transcendent, was overall far more stable.
"What happened in the volcanic region?"
"Grand Duke Rivandale. I clashed with a Transcendent of the Arnak Empire."
"...?!"
"Do you want to hear?"
Adrian firmly nodded.
"I'll prepare the finest liquor, and proper dishes to go with it."
"I'll look forward to it."
Ending the conversation, Verden left Adrian behind and walked on.
From a modest distance, Isabella was leisurely, quietly studying Interis.
"Master?"
"Does it not trouble you much?"
"Uh... what does?"
Verden extended his hand.
He softly tapped beneath Isabella's left eye.
Rather than flinch, she welcomed it, closing her left eye—which had lost all function at Gargant—and shrugging her shoulder.
"Ahh, you mean this? As you can see, it doesn't feel that awkward anymore. Thanks to my overflowing mana, there are plenty of ways to compensate for the missing half of my vision. But why ask all of a sudden?"
"Before long, I'll heal this eye."
"...!"
Verden, having activated his mana circuits, focused his power into his right eye.
The magic circle of Defying the Heavens surfaced within his blue eyes.
The magic eye, now perfectly a part of him, fixed its gaze on Isabella.
"...will I become like that too?"
"It won't be exactly the same, but it will not be a meaningless attempt. Even partially, you too have achieved Defying the Heavens, like me."
Verden gave his word with certainty.
"I keep my promises."
Isabella was silent for a moment.
'If the one I met at the Academy had been Verden, not Crodon.'
So much would have changed.
"I know."
Isabella smiled.
***
The dwarves, who had long lived at the bottom of the Black Volcano, safely settled in the large composite mine of the conflict zone.
Outsider, Linus, naturally remained among the dwarves, assisting Geradin with Gharun's new fortress design.
With Verden personally reinforcing and inspecting the security system, unless the intruder was a Transcendent, there would be no chance of the dwarves' presence being discovered.
'Then....'
Even though the dwarves' migration was complete, there was still much left to handle.
Among those matters was the meeting with Lester, commander of the Valiant Fugitives, a massive mercenary corps that had come to the unclaimed land through the introduction of the Estiria Kingdom.
"They say Calia personally introduced you, so did you originally have a connection with the Estiria Kingdom? Or with the Esperanza ducal house?"
"The latter. I had no prior contact, but this spring the Esperanza ducal house directly hired me. They requested that I teach Lady Esperanza combat training as close to real battle as possible, along with survival methods and mercenary skills. That was why I was staying in the Estiria Kingdom."
"I see. And how was your training with Calia?"
"As the daughter of the Duke of Esperanza, she has talent. Her drive to improve is even greater. The few flaws she had at first were gradually patched up... to be honest, she has grown to the point where I would hesitate to cross blades with her in earnest."
Calia, being the commander of the White Star Knight Order, was skilled enough.
But recalling her swordsmanship and movements, she should not have the same overwhelming presence that Lester, standing before him, exuded...
'She must have grown a great deal since last year.'
Their future reunion would be something to look forward to.
Having heard about Calia's recent state, Verden cut to the heart.
"Lester Rodhart, I heard that you wished to request a personal audience with me if you won in the Competition. So, what is it you want?"
From his seat at the head, Verden tilted his blue eyes to the side.
Across the diagonal, the throat of Lester, commander of the Valiant Fugitives, bobbed involuntarily.
'This, is no joke.'
Lester had met with nobles and royals before, even signing contracts.
But the pressure he felt now was incomparably heavier than anything then.
"We wish..."
Lester drew a steadying breath.
"We wish to form an exclusive contract with the North."
He tried to correct his tone, but fearing it might sound clumsy, he instead infused his voice and demeanor with reverence.
Verden asked.
"By exclusive contract, do you mean not merely a mercenary-for-hire relationship, but that you wish to become our standing soldiers?"
"That is so."
"The reason."
"Because I have seen the miserable end of the wandering life.... Hm, this sounds too scattered. May I speak at length?"
Verden lightly motioned with his chin.
Given time, Lester organized his thoughts.
"I am from the Kingdom of Ailan."
The Kingdom of Ailan.
A small nation, but almost no one would be unaware of its name.
It was the birthplace of Dahit Wethroel, leader of Black Hour, and the very nation he annihilated, erasing it from history.
───Dahit was an orphan of that kingdom. To be precise, he had once been a noble, until his family was executed in a political struggle. Only young Dahit survived and escaped the nation.
This fact Lester had personally heard from Melard Tastienne, Sage of Wisdom, one of the founders of the Society and the very first member of Black Hour.
Lester pressed down on his head slowly.
"When Ailan was erased by a Transcendent's hand, I was nothing. Just another orphan of a ruined nation."
Lester's life had been ordinary.
With no connections, drifting from towns to cities just to survive, becoming a mercenary was the common course.
"Still, I had some skill, enough to survive, enough to make money. Yet I felt empty. Something was missing. After months of thought, I suddenly realized. I had no home, the kind others have."
A place to return to, or to go back to.
As Lester wandered the brutal battlefields to make a living, he did not even have a shack to call his own.
He slept at inns in villages, or if not possible, camped outdoors.
He was still an orphan of a fallen country.
"So naturally I came to yearn for a home... and naturally, mercenaries who felt the same gathered by my side, or under me. Soon a small mercenary corps was born, and it gained the name Valiant Fugitives. Now it has grown into a great corps of nearly several thousand."
"But that mercenary corps was not the home you wanted."
At that remark, as though his heart had been seen through, Lester spoke openly.
"...How can a building that might collapse any day be called a home? If it were just me, fine, but I could not let thousands of people live their whole lives under such a roof. I realized long ago that the fate of mercenary corps is destruction."
But.
"Starting another life now, all of us eating and living together, was impossible. Abandoning them was out of the question. Yet finding a place that would accept us all was just as impossible. So, as commander, I searched desperately while we continued to work."
"..."
"The Estiria Kingdom was no exception... they refused us too. Naturally so. Why would they permanently hire a massive mercenary corps they had no need for? I was still in the kingdom at that time... when Lady Calia said this."
Lester steadied his breath.
"That a new power had arisen in the unclaimed land, called the North, and at its center was none other than the Saint of the East Continent, an honorary count of the Estiria Kingdom. And that, with war ahead, he was seeking mercenaries, so why not try going there."
He clasped his hands together.
"After hearing her suggestion, I wrestled with it all day. Yes, perhaps that unclaimed land... could become the home of the Valiant Fugitives."
"So you took a chance on the North, which by all appearances was at a disadvantage. Bold."
"A merchant I once met told me this. The greatest profits come from investing at the lowest point. Those words left an impression."
Lester continued.
"And I also judged that the North is undervalued in the world's eyes. So if in the Competition we could act as founders of the North, we too might become part of this power. Of course, beneath it all was Lady Calia's unwavering trust in Lord Asher. Thanks to her, even unbelievable rumors became believable."
Verden wanted to know what exactly Calia had said, but refrained from asking.
"Now that you've seen me in person, what do you think?"
"I have seen countless cases of overestimation in my life... but today I realized. There exist those whom rumor cannot possibly capture."
Lester clenched his fist.
"I know there are tremendous strong ones at your side. I myself saw you defeat the Mercenary King and an elder of the magic tower. I could never hope to reach such heights."
His voice gradually grew firmer.
"Even so, as shown in the Competition, we proved that we too have our use. The Valiant Fugitives are not spotless as a corps. But we are clean in our own way. Those who committed foul acts, I expelled or executed myself."
Lester abruptly stood.
Then, stepping beside the table, he knelt with a loud thud.
"Please accept us."
In Lester's desperation, there was more than his own safety.
It was the outpouring of many feelings, fulfilling his long-held dream, and securing the livelihood of the mercenaries he had taken under his wing.
It was responsibility.
Verden, looking down at Lester, pulled his chin slightly back.
"I was just about to organize a force dedicated to the North's security. With the Valiant Fugitives' reputation, you'll be the right ones."
"...!"
"But from now on, the name Valiant Fugitives will vanish. If mercenaries form their own factions within the host, that will be a problem. You must cast off your old ways and become one with the North."
"Of course."
"And."
Verden spoke with grave counsel.
"The most important thing is the mercenaries' own will. Those who wish not to stay in the North but to leave freely, see them off generously with enough provision. Do not force anyone to choose."
Lester took those words as law.
"I will remember."
"When you are ready, do not come to me but to the ruler of the North, Liam Arein. From here on, he will be the lord who pays your wages."
Verden gave his dismissal.
"If you understand, then be off."
"...I will not disappoint you. Thank you for this chance. Truly."
Lester bowed deeply, then left the chamber. Compared to when he entered, his steps were light.
'With this, the North's security corps is settled....'
Verden looked out the window.
'I don't know when, but fortunately, it seems I won't have to wait long.'
He was waiting for someone's response.
His premonition was right.
Not long after, a guest came to Verden.
The magic tower of the volcanic island, its master.
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