Chapter 472 - Unofficial Subjugation
The Grand Warrior put down his wine glass, and stealthily gripped his double-edged sword.
'What is that bastard.'
A nameless man who suddenly appeared in the banquet hall, slaughtered two knights.
His presence was faint.
One could only notice him after he had already stepped inside the hall.
But his sword speed was abnormally fast.
Instinct stirred.
He made his heart beat violently, accelerated the blood flow.
Raising animalistic senses, he observed the uninvited guest intently.
A metal mask.
A dark blue robe.
Black leather armor.
Gray metal greaves and vambraces.
Sky-blue eyes.
Long navy hair tied up, and a sword of the same color, extraordinary in its air...
The features were distinct.
At that moment, a figure whose description matched the man before him struck his mind.
'The Saint's closest aide!!!'
The Grand Warrior leapt to his feet.
That nameless swordsman who was said to have slain the Bone-Relic Dragon was supposed to be secluded, holed up in the northern territory.
He hadn't even taken part in the competitive wars, no external activities.
Thus the rumors only grew more rampant.
'And yet, if the bastard has come to the East, then could it be.'
The Grand Warrior spread his aura perception wide.
Immediately, sensing an unfamiliar presence, he reflexively raised his head.
The second-floor railing of the banquet hall.
There stood two more uninvited guests.
The Saint of the Eastern Continent, and...
"That fucking bitch...!"
"Still vulgar as ever, I see."
Isabella, standing beside Verden, leaned her body against the railing, mocking the Grand Warrior.
Her left eye, in which a grotesque magic circle had risen──the Brilliant Eyes, surveyed everyone in the hall.
Chill.
The Grand Warrior, the Knight Commander, and the Mages all felt a nameless dread.
Yet they couldn't discern the danger. It was too unfamiliar, and besides, they were facing another problem.
The key powers of the New East in the banquet hall raised their eyes upward.
Among them, some recognized Verden, their faces turned deathly pale.
"T-the Saint!"
"Why, why would the North, come to the East...?!"
Bewilderment and shock spread everywhere.
The murmurs grew louder in the incomprehensible situation.
Boom!
At that instant, the blade of the Demonic Sword swept through the crowd in the blink of an eye.
A large table, cleanly bisected, crashed against the floor.
The man, Adrian, pressed his voice low.
"Shut, up."
It was the final warning.
Make needless noise, and he looked ready to cut them down at once.
Those who glanced at the decapitated knights swallowed their saliva.
Silence descended again.
More than half were cowed purely by Adrian's threat.
The strongmen of each faction secretly gathered their aura and magic power, rolling only their eyes, trying to grasp the situation.
Isabella tilted her head.
"Just two as an example was enough? How tame. I thought at least thirty percent would be flailing in rage... but it seems they can read the mood. That means we can go straight to selection, head?"
"So it seems."
Verden nodded, then looked down upon the New East forces.
And spoke.
"From now on, I will call names, raise your hand if it is you."
"...??"
Confusion rose in the minds of the New East members.
Names? Calling names? Why?
Regardless, Verden recited the list he had arranged in his memory.
Pidrin Weaver.
Elliot.
Teba.
Kallin Swether.
...
Those whose names were called raised their hands one by one.
Those acting under aliases flinched when their real names were called, barely suppressing screams.
Soon.
"Raphin Hoswig."
"Ah, yes!"
With the young mercenary mage as the last, the list was complete.
Unintended, yet once selected, most of them were members of the faction that argued the East must be stabilized.
Immediately, Verden gave the order.
"The following thirteen, leave this place."
"?!"
"There are carriages waiting outside, board them and you will be moved to a nearby city. Once there, someone will come to guide and explain everything from start to finish, so follow obediently."
No one here had ears so bad they couldn't understand a few words, but still, none dared move rashly.
Who knew what awaited outside the door?
Rather, those whose names had been called felt their wariness reach its peak.
"…Tsk, the lord has offered special consideration, yet they fail to understand. Was the example insufficient."
Adrian clicked his tongue, displeased, raising his left hand. He extended three fingers, save for the pinky and ring.
"I will count to three. If you're not gone by then, I will consider you clinging to life without meaning. The grace ends there."
The thumb folded.
"One."
Whooosh!
Before the second finger even folded, they all rushed out of the banquet hall.
They had no fighting spirit.
Among them was a 5th-tier Mage, and a warrior of comparable strength, yet none dared resist.
The Saint of the Eastern Continent was a monster acknowledged as an upper 6th-tier Magus.
In terms of ranking, he rivaled a tower master or the highest elders of the magic towers.
To defy him meant certain death.
Better to cooperate, and preserve even the slightest chance to survive.
Instinct whispered so, and reason judged the same.
Thus, with thirteen departed, fifty-four remained in the hall.
"Selection...? Consideration? Then, could it be...!"
The leaders of the New East murmured, and the moment they grasped Verden's intent, their eyes went wide.
Verden calmly declared.
"Dispose of the rest."
A death sentence fell on the spot.
Shing!
The Knight Commander of the East drew his longsword, shouting loudly.
"Saint! Do you realize what you're attempting?!"
"This is no war sanctioned in a Mediation Zone, yet you invade the East's domain and now seek to kill us! This is a clear violation of the rules!"
It was a 5th-tier mid-rank black mage, wanted by the magic world for terrorism in the cities, who dared to invoke the laws of the Ownerless Land.
All the while, he secretly activated his mana circuits, plotting to escape.
That instant.
"Huh?"
Drip.
Sticky blood dripped from his nose.
His eyes, suddenly bloodshot, wept red tears.
All the mages of the New East.
"Cough, cough!"
Even their breaths carried blood.
Their heartbeats grew irregular, hands trembled. Though they had long since completed their magical computation, their spells stayed dormant.
Confronted with this first-ever anomaly, the black mage's eyes nearly tore wide.
"W-what is this... why, why is the magic suddenly failing to cast───"
"How shameless. After your filth in Medilon, you dare preach rules?"
Isabella's eyes gleamed.
Objects reflected in the Brilliant Eyes had their magic resistance shaved away in parts.
And the moment resistance failed, her mana burrowed into the body, congealing in grotesque lumps.
Mana tumors.
The more exposed to the gaze, the more they were stimulated to grow.
They gnawed secretly at resistance, eroding it away.
If mana tumors formed within mana circuits, they hindered flow, obstructing spellcasting itself.
Moreover, Isabella could consume the tumors, and remotely manifest magic at the very site where they had been.
Grrrk!
"Uwaaaaagh!"
"Cough, cough!!!"
The black mage and his fellows spewed blood, collapsing to their knees. Blood poured from every orifice—eyes, nose, mouth, ears.
Even pores were no exception.
Born of
And then.
Boom!
Eight mages exploded.
The surroundings stained crimson.
A scene more dreadful than curses of black magic unfolded. Screams of horror burst from all directions.
"We came here thinking the South had a message to deliver... but they colluded with brokers to sell us out to the North!"
"Damn it, fuck!!"
"When the brokers pulled that shit in the Mediation Zone, I should've known!"
The New East took combat stance.
Tension flooded the hall, heavy and suffocating.
And then, one knelt.
"Your Excellency! I'm only a lowly subordinate...! It was they who spoke of attacking the North! Please, spare me! I beg you!"
A criminal of the magic world, judging surrender better than resistance.
But Verden had no thought of sparing one who had performed human experimentation in society, then drifted into the Ownerless Land.
"Absurd. You bared your fangs at the lord, and now you crawl, groveling for your life."
Adrian gripped the hilt of the Demonic Sword tightly.
"No time to spare."
As he leaned his torso forward, his center of gravity shifted extremely onto his toes.
The flickering violet aura concentrated into the Demonic Sword, Cadence.
連光.
A technique, a sword-drawing art like a flash of lightning.
A fierce swordlight engulfed the banquet hall in an instant.
Out of the fifty-four, after the high 4th-tier mages and above had been slain by Isabella, leaving forty-six.
Of those forty-six remaining, forty-five were split apart with their weapons, killed instantly.
***
It was never meant to diverge.
The moment the Southern Alliance swayed the Volcano Island Tower and the Larrian Tower to abandon the East, the matter was already over.
The plan was to massacre the great lords of the East, establish the New East faction.
Amend the contracts of the large-scale mines through the brokers, to reap profit.
By now, he should have been granted a barony in the South, clutching the power of life and death over its people, turning the land into a hunting ground.
The smell of blood.
As it had been in the frigid North of the continent, he should have been reveling in massacres of dozens, hundreds, drinking deep of that hot vitality.
He should have indulged in pleasure.
The smell of blood.
The metallic stench of prey smeared on blade and hand should have pierced his nostrils.
Tak.
A light footstep.
The Grand Warrior, having barely escaped the reach of Adrian's sword aura, gathered his wits and looked forward.
Isabella, having leapt from the second floor, walked leisurely.
"I didn't bother with you in the competition matches, didn't want to waste the time. And here we meet again? You must really be itching to die, huh?"
The mockery pierced his ears.
Grit.
The Grand Warrior ground his molars.
The faintly writhing fear amidst corpses and blood was covered over with rage.
He gathered his strength.
Clutching his double-edged sword in both hands, the Grand Warrior charged with all might.
───!
The blade, raised high overhead, descended vertically.
Kwoooooooom!
The floor of the banquet hall split apart with a great crash.
A blow that could have cleaved through a dozen men at once.
Yet, no blood stained the blade. It was clean. And of course, there were no bisected corpses.
'Dodged, it?'
The Grand Warrior slowly shifted his gaze.
"So this is the world the head had been watching... As he said, now that it's in real combat, the difference is tangible. No wonder the magic tower had kept it locked away in their treasury."
Having evaded the blade's trajectory by no more than a sheet of paper, Isabella admired the Rune Ring on her hand, her eyes shining.
As if the opponent didn't even exist.
The Grand Warrior's forehead veins bulged, and he drew his sword, slashing diagonally.
At the same moment, Isabella's Brilliant Eyes flashed fiercely.
Crackle-crack-crack!
The mana tumor lodged in the Grand Warrior's body exploded, releasing frost.
Its location, his left elbow.
Ice sprouted from within, engulfing his arm, and the Grand Warrior, caught off guard, had his stance broken, his strike cutting only air.
Isabella lunged into the gap, thrusting her hand forward.
The claws of bitter cold struck the Grand Warrior's left arm mercilessly.
Countless shards scattered.
Though his body was tough, once his mana resistance had been gnawed away and his body frozen, there was no enduring the shock.
"Graaaghhhhhh!"
From the cold cross-section of his arm, not even blood leaked out.
The Grand Warrior staggered back.
Isabella strode closer, unleashing her magic of Corruption, and at close range cast spell after spell.
"Fucking...!!!"
The Grand Warrior lashed out with sword aura from his remaining arm, but could not reach her.
Whenever he tried to unleash a technique, Isabella cut him off first.
Cold shredded skin, damaged muscle, and burrowed deeper.
Meanwhile, another mana tumor formed by the Brilliant Eyes exploded, shattering his right leg.
Crack!
Then, a bloody ice spear pierced his chest and impaled his spine.
His double-edged sword fell to the floor.
The Grand Warrior collapsed forward, gasping raggedly, squeezing out words.
"H-how... On the airship, you were, never this strong...!"
Crunch!
Isabella stomped down hard, crushing the back of his hand. She swept her disheveled hair back.
"I have a head, see. As you can tell."
Her eyes gleamed chillingly.
"And even back then, if I'd had time, you'd have been dead already."
"W-wait...!"
Isabella kicked upward.
With full strength.
Her inhuman power packed into her kick, she struck the Grand Warrior's face, pinned to the ground, with all her might.
Smaaash!
From his eye outward, the right side of his face burst apart at once.
Blood pooled and rippled.
The trembling left the Grand Warrior's body, and his breath ceased.
A silent stillness.
Adrian, who had been watching the fight alongside Verden, flinched a little.
"With no body enhancement, what kind of strength is that... Even a high ogre species could be torn apart barehanded."
Isabella shrugged.
"I know I'm an alien species, alright? Anyway, how's the evaluation?"
"Your movements aren't bad. Still relying a bit blindly on instinct, and there are awkward parts, but they're things that can be refined. If you want to use weapon arts in real combat like the lord, it'll take time...."
"That much I don't expect anyway, so it's fine. For a mage, just being able to handle close combat is enough."
She gathered the vivid senses, satisfied with her own sharpened perception.
Verden spoke.
"Well done, both of you. Adrian, Isabella. You have indeed grown stronger."
It wasn't only Isabella who had grown, Adrian as well.
Had it been back when they left the Eastern Continent, even his technique just now would not have been enough to cut down forty-five including the Knight Commander in a single strike.
Adrian's specialty, speed, had gained a little weight and precision.
"Let's head out. Serlo will be waiting."
"Yes, my lord."
"I'll handle the cleanup."
Taking the Grand Warrior's double-edged sword as spoils, Isabella focused intently.
She pressed her hands together, finished the computation.
Fwoooooosh!
Mana burst forth, chaos-frost spreading to engulf the entire area.
The corpses, the weapons, the furniture, the bloodstains, the great banquet hall itself... all corroded, frozen inside and out.
Stepping outside, Isabella snapped her fingers as the trigger. The mana within the ice responded.
Rumble-rumble-rumble...!
The banquet hall and everything within lost their form, collapsed entirely, and soon turned to powder, scattered on the wind.
What remained was a vast empty clearing, whispering to later generations that something once stood here.
Thus, save for the thirteen chosen, the New East's key forces were annihilated.
Unofficially, the North and East now lay under Verden's dominion.
***
For the next two years at most, Serlo would oversee the overall management of the East, delivering direct reports to Verden at intervals.
Of course, unless he imposed direct interdictions... the thirteen chosen from the banquet or the next lords of the East might let slip the North's name.
In the West or South, it wouldn't be long before they noticed the East's change.
'But it doesn't matter.'
Even if they knew, there was nothing they could do.
Besides, Verden's territorial expansion was only beginning.
In any case.
Before meeting the Sages of the Society, one last matter had to be settled.
It held no small importance.
Among the Ownerless Lands... the West was particularly intriguing.
"Are you enjoying the treatment as a hostage?"
Verden, facing the Mercenary King captured by Cain.
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