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At the moment Sophia finished her last task, a few of those busy preparing the camp inside suddenly tilted their heads.

“Huh? What was that just now?”

“It feels like the texture of the air changed…”

Perhaps it was because they were all people who had refined Spirit Entities? As the Qi within and around the camp was controlled by the formation, those with highly developed Ethereal Muscles and sensitive spiritual senses felt the indirect discomfort.

Of course, they soon dismissed what they felt as mere illusions and returned their attention to their original tasks.

It was inevitable. Even though the Qi was being controlled, there was no interference from any Main Strength. The only thing present was a natural guidance based on topographical and structural conditions. While the one who deployed the formation had a clear intention, the formation itself reflected no such intention. Its natural posture was closer to a spear hidden in a trap or pitfall than a soldier holding a spear.

If this had been a spell, they would have noticed it immediately. Spells, triggered and maintained by Main Strength, were inevitably directly connected to the caster’s will. Therefore, it could be said that their failure to detect the presence of the formation was simply due to poor compatibility.

Fundamentally, as knights and soldiers—those who fight—they might have been able to sense the killing intent of a “soldier holding a spear,” but expecting them to sense a “spear hidden in a trap” was an unreasonable demand.

However, regardless of the circumstances, the indifference of the people was somewhat irritating to Brantley Somz, who was deeply moved by the sight of the formation being completed before his eyes.

‘Tsk, these uncultured ruffians. They don’t even realize how artistic this phenomenon is…’

While lamenting the insensitivity of the ignorant martial artists, he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of the formation functioning before him.

The sky and earth, high mountains and low valleys, water and fire, wind and lightning—all the forms and phenomena of nature were manifesting before his eyes, interacting with each other. The wavelengths of the Spell Waves, which flowed from the domain and were controlled solely by the Spellcaster’s Main Strength, now maintained the qualities of a natural state while clearly following artificial laws.

How could this not be beautiful? How could this not be mysterious? The logic that no Spellcaster, born with the gift, could fail to notice was now present here.

Fundamentally, this was a principle that greatly deviated from the spell philosophy of this world. Seeing it manifest in reality, there was no Spellcaster who wouldn’t be moved—at least, none that Brantley Somz knew of.

‘Spell philosophers say that this world is made of Spell Waves. And Spell Waves originate from their respective domains.’

According to the basic schema of spell philosophy, the domain is the foundation, the Spell Waves come next, and the objects and phenomena of the present world belong to a lower category than those Spell Waves. Spellcasters can deepen their understanding of the domain through these Spell Waves, and the Main Strength of the Ethereal Brain is a power derived from true knowledge gained from understanding the domain. This was the universal view of the spell philosophy community.

This perspective of spell philosophy—Domain & Main Strength → Spell Waves → Phenomena & Objects—had been an absolute truth in the spell community, unchallenged by anyone. It was wisdom derived from the Spirit Entities, and it had been sufficient to explain spell phenomena until now.

‘But this can no longer explain the principle of the “Formation,” which rearranges objects and phenomena to alter the flow and ripples of Spell Waves.’

The implication of this fact was clear.

‘I don’t know about the “Domain.” I’m not that skilled of a Spellcaster. But at the very least, I can clearly see that Spell Waves and phenomena are not in a clear hierarchical relationship.’

Even if there were a hierarchical relationship, it was certainly not a one-sided, immutable one. Perhaps, at least within the framework of this Formation, the objects that compose the Formation and their arranged forms occupy a position similar to the “Domain.”

While Brantley Somz was swept up in the internal revolutionary wave of reconstructing his worldview, the atmosphere inside the camp remained peaceful and lively.

“Ah, well, when that Undead attacked earlier, do you know what I did…?”

“Hah, stop lying! I clearly saw you wetting your pants earlier…”

Some boasted about their own exploits, while others chatted and laughed.

“I’m going to go back and just rest.”

“I bet 30 shillings that guy will be found near the brothel within half a day.”

“Then I bet 40 shillings he’ll be found before the sun moves a finger’s width.”

“These guys…!”

Soldiers set up tents, lit campfires, and prepared meals, while knights mingled seamlessly among them without any sense of awkwardness.

“Somehow, they don’t look like people who just survived a life-and-death situation.”

Ulrike, the younger sister of Count Friedrich of Schwaben, muttered in wonder as she watched the soldiers. Having trembled in fear inside the wagon just moments ago, it felt strange to see those who had faced the grotesque Undead head-on, risking their lives, now so cheerful and lively.

Answering Ulrike’s question was Wilhelmina, the fiancée of Count Friedrich of Schwaben and the only daughter of the late Court Baron of Wine.

“Rather, it’s because they survived a life-and-death situation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because they survived a life-and-death situation, they need to appear so elated.”

Wilhelmina spoke with a gentle gaze as she looked at the soldiers.

“Humans are creatures who suffer more the longer they suppress pain. Whether it’s physical or emotional pain, suppressing it will inevitably lead to regretful aftereffects. And these soldiers willingly faced the fear of death to protect us, sacrificing their own lives while leaving behind the sacrifices of their comrades.”

Wilhelmina looked at the laughing and chatting soldiers with a mix of pity and respect.

“The fear of death, and the grief of losing someone. They need time to gather their hearts from that.”

And their laughter and chatter were the minimal acts of comfort to buy that time, Wilhelmina concluded.

As Sophia returned to the camp after completing the formation, she overheard Wilhelmina’s words, and a glint appeared in her eyes.

‘Indeed, she is the daughter of the Court Baron of Wine, known as the Sword of the Hohenstaufen family. Despite her young age, she possesses both compassion and strength, making her worthy of the responsibility of a queen.’

Sophia nodded in satisfaction.

In her youth, Sophia had experienced life as a mercenary knight under various condottieri in Rotaringia. After returning to her family and inheriting the position of Court Baron, she served as the Minister of Military Affairs for the Hohenstaufen family and as the Hauptmann of the Empire.

It was unexpected that her daughter, Wilhelmina, also had insight into military affairs, but as the fiancée of Count Friedrich of Schwaben, who was destined to compete for the position of the Empire’s ruler in these troubled times, it was better for her to have this level of experience. Sophia thought that perhaps the plan to end the Empire’s chaos might not require as much effort as she had thought.

For these reasons, the nobles did not bother to correct the soldiers’ relaxed behavior. In fact, they even tolerated minor deviations that would not have been allowed under normal circumstances.

Under the command of Count Friedrich of Schwaben’s chamberlain, the soldiers approached the wagons at the back of the camp.

With a click, the cargo compartments of the wagons were opened, revealing barrels made of vintage oak. The lids of the two barrels, each loaded on a wagon, were opened, and at that moment.

The rich, bittersweet aroma of ale filled the air, and the soldiers erupted in cheers.

+++++

And so, the night passed in a mix of solemnity and liveliness. The soldiers, who had been noisily chatting, had now all gone into their tents to sleep, except for those on the first watch. The only sounds left were the chirping of crickets, the hooting of owls, and the crackling of the firewood fed into the campfire by the night watch.

In the quiet and serene early morning, inside one of the tents in the camp, a strange, incomprehensible groan could be heard.

“Kk≠↗¿∀→agak, gaha≒ɶʓa~~T!!!”

A scream that could not be put into words, without even the resonance of vocal cords, filled only with the sound of empty wind. The owner of this scream was none other than the sorcerer demon Krampus, who had been subdued by Sophia earlier in the day.

Completely devoid of strength in his limbs, this demon, unable to even release his demonic essence, was utterly trapped in the material world. The essence of an ascended demon could corrupt and distort the laws of this world, but the power of Geburah residing in Sophia’s right hand could shatter even such phenomena like a clay pot.

Twitching like an octopus stranded on land, sometimes convulsing like a fish on the verge of death, the demon’s eyes were filled with despair, malice, fear, and pleading, all mixed together.

The sound of bones twisting, muscles and tendons contorting, mixed with the suppressed groans and screams of the powerless demon, created a grotesque atmosphere. But at this moment, neither the demon nor the nun knight in the tent paid any attention to it.

After a while of gasping and emitting suppressed sounds, Krampus finally quieted down. It was after the time it took to drink a cup of tea that two blue flashes of light suddenly shot out from Sophia, who had been sitting on a small stool, chin resting on her hand, watching him.

The two streaks of light rose into the air and then quietly seeped into Krampus’s right temple and left chest. And the next moment. The eyes of Krampus, who had been lying like a dead man, widened again, and a rough breath escaped from his beak, which had been biting his tongue. Sophia had forcibly awakened Krampus, who had fainted from shock, using acupressure to restore his breathing.

“Kkah, haak, heuk, heok.”

As if a blocked breath had burst out, Krampus gasped for air. Sophia looked down at him and spoke slowly.

“How is it? It seems like you’re about ready to talk now.”

At Sophia’s words, the demon’s eyes darted around. He seemed to have a vague idea of what he needed to do to escape this torment. The demon, who had not hidden his resistance just moments ago, now felt that he needed to show a change in attitude after experiencing the pain of mortality for the first time in his life.

As he thought this and tried to open his mouth to respond, he realized that his voice wasn’t coming out properly.

“……!!!”

Of course, it couldn’t. Although Sophia had given him the freedom to breathe, there was still one important thing she hadn’t released—the freedom to use his vocal cords, tongue, lips, and mouth to form sounds.

The demon’s most basic means of communication, “flame speech,” was now sealed and unusable. In the midst of this, his last resort—relying on the vocal organs of flesh and blood that he had never used in his life—was also blocked.

In other words, even though he had adopted a repentant attitude, ready to spill everything he knew, he was in a situation where he couldn’t utter a single word.

“……!~~!~!”

Realizing this, Krampus’s eyes filled with dark despair, which soon turned into madness. But even if he went mad, with his demonic blood suppressed and unable to move his body, all he could do was roll his eyes. His grievances were never properly conveyed, and the heartless nun knight decided to inflict more pain on him.

“My, my, not saying a word even now. It seems you’ve really made up your mind. Well, if you’ve made up your mind, then you deserve the appropriate treatment.”

No, please, just release the seal on my mouth and vocal cords, Krampus screamed inwardly. But his pleas were cleanly ignored by the nun knight, who had hardened her heart.

“Now, let’s extend the time a bit more this time. How about enduring for half as long again? Ah, if you change your mind midway, you can ask me to stop.”

You have to let me speak to ask, Krampus thought as despair and resignation filled his eyes. A moment later, another flash of intangible light shot out from Sophia. The bone-twisting and tendon-contorting sounds began again, using Krampus’s body as an instrument to create a harmony of pain.

 

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