Western Holy Church Branch in Blumund
The journey had been merciless.
When Shizue finally passed through the gates of the Western Holy Church branch in Blumund, her body was at its limit. Dust covered her clothes, her breathing was uneven, and her legs trembled under the weight of accumulated exhaustion.
According to the information gathered by Yuuki, Hinata and the Holy Knights were staying there.
It was a necessary supply point before departing for the Forest of Jura.
Moreover, the time required for resupply would not be short—at least one full day.
An entire day.
More than enough time for her to catch up to them.
Or so she believed.
"What? Hinata and the others have already left? How is that possible?"
The clergyman's answer struck her like an invisible blade.
Shizu felt as if all her strength had been drained in an instant; her vision darkened briefly, and she had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing.
To arrive as quickly as possible, Shizu had run without stopping.
She had ignored the pain in her muscles.
Ignored the exhaustion burning in her lungs.
At times, she had nearly fainted from fatigue.
And yet… she had arrived too late.
Given Hinata and the Holy Knights' speed, they were now traveling in opposite directions, separated by at least a full day's distance.
A single day.
And within a single day, the war in Nova Uruk might already be over.
How many lives could have been lost in that time?
How was this possible?
Why was she always too late?
Her fingers clenched tightly.
"No… I can't give up now. He trusted me."
The memory of Arthur's trusting gaze pierced her mind like a beam of light.
He had trusted her.
She could not fail.
Shizu gritted her teeth and, without allowing her body any rest, immediately set out toward the Forest of Jura.
Even if she had to tear past her own limits, she would catch up to them.
---
Before Nova Uruk
From atop a hill, Hinata and the Holy Knights observed the city in the distance.
All of them were surprised.
Had that city truly been built in less than a year?
The walls were tall and solid, and the urban planning revealed organization and wealth.
The architectural complex was far too magnificent.
It did not resemble the chaotic work of monsters.
It looked like a capital.
Then came the scent of blood.
The wind carried the metallic odor that no experienced warrior could mistake.
And across the ground, deep scars tore through the earth: craters, massive cuts, charred areas.
All of them grew solemn.
Before arriving, they had received news of the expeditionary force from the Kingdom of Falmuth.
But now, that expeditionary force had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only the stench of blood in the air.
It forced them to reflect deeply.
Could it be that the Kingdom of Falmuth's expeditionary force had been… annihilated?
Impossible.
The Kingdom of Falmuth was a major commercial power, possessing an absurd amount of wealth. Its knights, guards, and court mages were extremely well equipped.
Although their combat strength could not compare to the Holy Knights of the Western Holy Church, they were still one of the most powerful armies on the entire continent.
It was difficult to believe such an army had been completely wiped out.
What exactly had happened here?
Defeating that tyrant might not be as easy as they had imagined.
The silence among the Knights grew heavy.
If Falmuth had been defeated so easily…
Then the enemy they were about to face was on an entirely different level than expected.
---
Arthur's Mansion — Main Hall
Meanwhile, inside the main hall of Arthur's mansion, the reality was even more brutal.
King Edmaris Falmuth lay sprawled on the floor in a deplorable state. His crown had rolled across the marble tiles—a perfect symbol of lost dignity.
Behind him, the court mage Razen and Archbishop Reyhiem knelt.
To be honest, they were completely bewildered.
Not only King Edmaris, but Razen and Reyhiem as well were utterly stunned.
Why had this happened?
One moment, King Edmaris had dreamed of capturing this nation's ruler alive and seizing all his possessions.
The next moment, they had been annihilated.
And even he—the king—had become a prisoner.
He had fallen from heaven to hell within seconds. The contrast was so immense that none of them could accept it.
Looking at Shion, who stood silently behind Arthur, Edmaris almost wondered if he was dreaming.
He simply could not associate her with the savage monster who had wielded a massive sword, carved a trench nearly a hundred meters long, and decimated almost half an order of knights with a single strike.
Could they truly be the same person?
How was that possible?
As for Benimaru, standing to Arthur's right, his mere presence plunged Razen into an icy abyss. Even now, he could not accept the total defeat.
The court mage corps had been his trump card, built with half a lifetime of effort.
Yet Benimaru's sphere of black flames had reduced them to ashes within seconds.
The old man named Hakurou, who had single-handedly slaughtered hundreds of soldiers in mere moments, was not present now—but the mere memory of him sent chills down Razen's spine.
Even Shuna, that seemingly delicate and fragile woman, had nearly put the entire knightly force to sleep with a single sleep spell.
It was a complete and absolute defeat.
What kind of monsters had Falmuth provoked?
Still unable to accept their loss, Razen asked reluctantly:
"Why? If you possess such strength, why didn't you fight head-on from the beginning?"
His words echoed through the hall, pulling them from their dazed nightmare as they looked toward the man seated upon his throne.
Arthur.
He answered casually:
"Because I wanted to watch you insignificant worms fall into despair when you realized you had provoked an opponent infinitely superior to yourselves." His voice was calm, yet filled with absolute contempt.
"How dare you! Calling me, Edmaris Falmuth, king of the great nation of Falmuth, a worm!" Edmaris roared, pointing at Arthur.
"You are the one who should be kneeling here, weeping with joy at the opportunity to have an audience with me! Of course, I can forgive this insolence—provided there is appropriate compens—"
He kept speaking.
Until he realized his hand was gone.
A second of silence.
Then—
"M-M-M-MY HAND!! ARRRRRGH!!"
The scream tore through the hall.
Arthur watched with an icy expression.
"You are nothing but a mere clown."
There was no emotion in his eyes.
"Entertain me with a more refined scream, mongrel."
Edmaris trembled, drenched in cold sweat.
"Know your place. The fact that someone like you dares call himself king disgusts me."
Then, casually:
"But don't worry. I have no intention of killing you. Your miserable lives still have some value."
Upon hearing that, Edmaris, Razen, and Reyhiem felt a flicker of hope.
But in the next second, his following words dragged them back into hell.
"I intend to build a road connecting to Dwargon. So I will trouble you, Edmaris—and your people—to construct it for me."
A chill ran down their spines.
"W-Wait! You cannot treat us like this! We are nobles of the Kingdom of Falmuth! According to custom, we can atone for our crimes with an equivalent price! You cannot turn us into slaves!"
Arthur sneered.
"And you truly believe I care about the mediocre customs of mongrels like you?"
Pfft!
At Arthur's words, laughter erupted throughout the hall.
It was a fitting punishment for someone like Edmaris.
"Furthermore, don't even think about escaping through teleportation, Razen. The entire space around the Forest of Jura is under my control. Nothing enters or leaves without my permission," Arthur added when he noticed Razen's subtle movements.
Razen turned pale.
Reyhiem gathered his courage.
"I am the Archbishop of the Western Holy Church. If you force me into slave labor, do you intend to make every nation on the continent your enemy?"
"Yes. I acknowledge your power, but do you truly intend to make the entire continent your enemy?" Edmaris added eagerly.
Arthur tilted his head slightly.
"Everything on this land belongs to me. Nothing and no one will change that. What difference do you think there is between crushing one mongrel or a thousand?"
"You… you…"
Edmaris, Reyhiem, and Razen were left speechless, nearly suffocating.
Had this man gone mad?
Would he truly dare to challenge the entire continent?
Even more unbelievable was that none of those present stood to stop him.
Madmen.
Every last one of them.
(End of Chapter)