Chapter 502
Chapter 502: The Land of Tragedy
【Previous Summary】
Edgar: “Is this Kaemuran…?”
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Unfortunately, until recently, Edgar had no knowledge of the existence of a town called Kaemuran.
First of all, the Hamilton Principality itself was a small nation, and Kaemuran was a quaint little port town within it. Unless one was extremely knowledgeable, a geography nerd, or a seasoned sailor of Aulitos Lake, they would likely never have heard the name Kaemuran.
However, that was a discussion from just a few days ago.
Now, the name Kaemuran had been etched into human history.
—As the land where the demon race first rained blood upon the peaceful rear of the alliance.
“This is… the hill of Kaemuran, huh?”
While gazing at the crimson-stained earth, Edgar muttered.
It must have originally been a tranquil grazing land by the lakeside. Yet now it lay trampled, burned, and dug up in every direction. Even now, countless soldiers and laborers were busy dealing with the corpses.
(This country has many cat-type beastmen… and they’re working normally. This must be a sight unique to a peaceful rear.)
The physically gifted beastmen were thriving in physical labor. Cat-type and dog-type beastmen mingled and worked diligently without any particular hostility towards one another, looking strikingly fresh in Edgar’s eyes after spending so long on the front lines.
Not all cat-type beastmen had rushed into the Demon Lord’s kingdom. In this vast continent, there existed pro-human cat-type beastmen as well. Although he knew this academically—
(Still, they must have been terrified by the Empire’s invasion.)
There were rumors he heard on the way that the Empire was oppressing cat-type beastmen. One could easily imagine just how anxious the cat-type inhabitants of the principality were—
(The soldiers’ outfits… there are two kinds.)
He shifted his gaze from the laborers to the soldiers. One group was clad in unified dark blue military uniforms, while another wore mismatched deep green outfits, barely resembling each other. The latter matched the uniforms of the Hamilton Principality’s army he had seen in the city.
(If that’s the case, the dark blue group must be prisoners of the Kaizaan Empire.)
The principality didn’t seem to intend to let the prisoners lounge around either. Most of these piles of corpses were Empire soldiers. It was as if they were saying, “You can clean up your own side’s mess…”
Edgar gazed at the Empire soldiers with exasperated faces as they engaged in corpse transport and digging burial pits. Just then, a gust of wind blew from the lake, carrying with it the stench of decay and roasted flesh, further riling Edgar’s already turbulent mind.
“Uugh…”
Beside Edgar, Nina, pale as a ghost, was desperately trying to suppress her nausea, covering her mouth with her hand. Although Nina wasn’t just a naive little girl—she had swept through the hellish battlefields—she was still on the “escaping” side from such scenes.
In other words, this was her first time facing the brutal aftermath of war. And of all times, she had to witness this particularly gruesome sight—
“…Are you okay?”
Casting a glance at the young hero-in-training beside him, Edgar gently patted her back.
“I’m fine…! I’m fine…!”
Nina gritted her teeth in response. Despite the shock, she never turned her gaze away.
“…This… is the battle against the demon race, isn’t it?”
While staring at the pile of corpses reeking of decay, Nina managed to squeeze those words out.
What awaited at the end of the battle against humanity’s enemies—perhaps, the worst of fates for a warrior.
“Indeed. To fight against demonkind, it naturally means that this possibility also exists.”
Edgar replied calmly. Despite Nina’s pale face, Edgar maintained his own expression, devoid of any emotion, erasing all traces of his usual cheer. —This sort of “tragic situation” was something he had grown all too familiar with on the front lines.
“…Are you terrified?”
Edgar quietly inquired. His tone wasn’t teasing; rather, it was filled with concern.
Nina squeezed her eyes shut, steadied her breath, and turned back to face Edgar.
“It wouldn’t be true to say I’m not scared at all. But…”
With her lips pressed tightly together, she bore an unexpectedly stern expression for her age as she surveyed the land of tragedy.
“—I feel stronger that I can’t forgive this.”
…I see, Edgar thought.
“I feel the same way.”
It was a complex emotion. If Nina were a normal child, he wouldn’t have brought her to a place like this.
However, now she also bore the silver light.
Though still young and inexperienced, she was a comrade of Edgar, wishing to protect the innocent and fight against the enemies of humanity.
Even if she had been late to awaken and was an irregular existence, not chosen for the holy attribute during the adult ceremony, thanks to Edgar’s interference.
At the very least, Nina had demonstrated that she was worthy of the holy attribute. Facing the strong enemies that threatened humanity, she felt righteous anger greater than her fear. That was an indispensable quality for being the protector of the human race—the foundation of the Holy Church—
“…!”
As if trying to imprint the grotesque scene into her memory, Nina steeled her resolve, facing the battlefield.
She was no longer just a child that needed protecting or escaping.
She was trying earnestly to be a splendid hero—
(Isabella-san… was so happy when Nina-chan awakened to the holy attribute.)
Recalling that suddenly, Edgar felt a pang of bitterness.
Isabella had been greatly surprised and even more delighted when she heard that Nina had awakened to the silver light. Having fled from the flames of war, wandering in a foreign land and experiencing the suffering of the powerless, it seemed she viewed her daughter acquiring “power” as a blessing from the gods.
(But… “this” is not for her own protection.)
Did Isabella not realize?
Or was she pretending not to?
The holy attribute was the “power to protect everyone”—and if necessary, it was the means to destroy the enemies of humanity, even at the cost of one’s own life.
As those who faced the Demon Lord’s Prince had done in this land.
“……….”
Veering his gaze from Nina gently so she wouldn’t notice, Edgar sighed softly.
Nonetheless, it was Edgar who had whimsically awakened Nina’s holy attribute due to his experimental notions when she lamented her own helplessness. It would be a lie to say he had no conflict about whether he had truly done the right thing by dragging her into this path of carnage.
He respected her wishes and intent, but Edgar couldn’t help but feel that she ought to be someone to be protected—a being deserving of care—so perhaps it was Edgar, the one most troubled by this sudden change, who felt discomfort.
“…Hm?”
While he was absentmindedly staring at the battlefield, something interesting caught his eye.
(That forest elf is accompanied by a peculiar beastman, huh?)
A female forest elf with severe burn scars on her face walked alongside a wolf beastman wearing an eye mask. Both of them were equipped for serious travel, bearing heavy loads and looked like they were about to set off for a journey, yet they wore an oddly nostalgic expression.
(…Strange.)
In a battlefield that could hardly be described as a leisurely outing, it was odd they looked nostalgic, and their relationship with each other felt off.
(Ah… I see. It’s not that the forest elf is bringing the beastman along, but that the beastman is escorting the forest elf.)
Edgar, familiar with the behavior of forest elves, noted that they were long-lived, powerful in magic, and often unconsciously looked down on other races.
In reality, they were often placed in a leading position when teaming up with various races due to their superior capabilities. This sometimes affected their relationships, making it so that if there were a “master” and “subordinate,” the forest elf would frequently hold the reins.
However, the wolf beastman with the eye mask and the burn-scarred forest elf appeared to be in a dynamic where the forest elf was dutifully assisting the beastman, which felt disconcerting.
(Perhaps, that beastman is someone of great importance to her.)
While observing the scene with various musings in mind, the forest elf seemed to sense an intruding presence and turned to look in their direction.
“……….”
They exchanged a light gesture of acknowledgement. It seemed they weren’t being distasteful towards him.
Since they had made eye contact, Edgar thought about striking up a conversation, but—
“Dammit, the fire won’t light at all…”
“What should we do? Should we call a magician?”
“Yeah, but even if we called, who knows when they’ll get here…”
The soldiers nearby looked bewildered as they dealt with some problem, capturing Edgar’s attention.
“Is something wrong?”
“Ah… Priest!”
There was a moment’s awkward silence, likely because they were Kaizaan Empire soldiers.
Edgar had heard various rumors. It was said that the Holy Church was spoken ill of in the Empire, and in its place, a teaching called the Light Blade Church was on the rise— and that the Light Blade Cultists had been utterly helpless against the Demon Lord’s Prince, leading to the Empire’s downfall. And when it became dire, the heroes of the Holy Church had saved them.
Perhaps the Empire soldiers felt a sense of inferiority towards the Holy Church.
“We noticed you seemed troubled, so I thought I’d check in…”
“Um… we were trying to cremate the bodies.”
According to their words, a group of corpses that maintained a relatively intact shape was lined up next to some firewood. The firewood was in sufficient quantity and neatly stacked, appearing ready to ignite— or so it seemed.
“Yesterday, there was a light rain, and it seems the firewood got wet… We used up all the fire starters we had, but it just won’t catch fire at all.”
The Empire soldier’s face clouded as he explained they probably just needed to get the fire to grow a bit, and then it would burn itself.
“That’s why we were consulting whether to ask a magician… But all the fire mages are worn out after days of work. Even if we asked them, who knows how long it would take…”
“Ah… well, in a battlefield of this scale, that sounds about right.”
Edgar wore a bitter expression. In a retreat, corpses were often left behind, and the cleanup would simply be thrown upon the Demon Lord’s army, but during a defense battle or those rare occasions when they pushed the front line forward, the question of what to do with the abundant corpses was always a pressing issue.
Just bury them? That was too simplistic. If one didn’t dig deep enough, wild animals could unearth them, leading to disease, and when corpses maintained certain aspects, especially in a place saturated with “death,” there was a risk of undead rising.
Taking into account the various risks and costs, burning was the most ideal option.
As a last resort, one could slice the corpses into small pieces and bury them deep underground to avoid undead situations (or just to make it pointless anyway). However—
(This isn’t a good method regarding hygiene, ethics, and sheer effort…)
It was an unbearable approach.
“Hm…”
Edgar picked up a piece of firewood to examine its texture.
“I unfortunately can’t use fire magic, but given the dampness, it seems like lightning magic could work. Let me give it a try.”
“!! Thank you!”
“Stay back a bit for safety.”
Once the soldiers were sufficiently far away,
“[Divine Thunder]”
A loud bang echoed as lightning struck the firewood. However, it didn’t dry it fully with just one strike.
“[Divine Thunder! Divine Thunder! Divine Thunder!]”
Thus, he continued to unleash the spell. While he was at it, he channeled holy attributes into it, electrocuting the corpses as well. This would theoretically classify as a form of purification, making it less likely for them to rise as undead if they were buried later…
Fortunately, without needing to worry too much, the firewood gradually began to blaze. It seemed the moisture was only on the surface.
““Oh… Thank you!””
“Not at all.”
Edgar responded cheerfully while inwardly feeling relieved that it was catching fire properly.
“Oh, right. About those earlier—”
Edgar remembered the wolf beastman with the eye mask and the forest elf with burn scars and looked around.
However, they were nowhere to be found.
They must have set off on some journey…
†††
That night, Edgar ended up renting a room at the Kaemuran Holy Church.
(I thought it might be difficult to stay at the Holy Church, but it all worked out.)
If the rumors were true, there would have surely been an overwhelming number of the injured due to shortage of healers, and he might have ended up needing to stay at an inn— Edgar had anticipated that, yet when he opened the door, the Kaemuran Holy Church looked relatively calm.
However, that didn’t mean Edgar’s predictions were completely off-base. In the Holy Church’s yard, there was an unusual number of laundry hanging—sheets fluttering in the wind. It was a clear sign that the Kaemuran Holy Church had indeed been at the scene of an intense battle just a few days prior.
He heard that recently, a trio of highly skilled forest elves had visited the Holy Church and helped with the treatment.
(One of them was apparently an elf so elderly it was hard to believe…)
Coincidentally, right before embarking on his journey, Edgar had encountered an old elf too. If he recalled correctly, the name was—
“Orderju, wasn’t it?”
He remember clearly, as they were an impactful trio. There was a beautiful forest elf named Lily who behaved in a way that was astonishingly suspicious.
“Speaking of which, coincidentally, I also met a trio.”
There couldn’t be that many “elves who were incredibly elderly travelers” throughout the continent, leading Edgar to ask everyone at the Kaemuran Holy Church about the name of the old elf. However, in a rather ungrateful manner, nobody had the time to memorize the names of the trio of forest elves due to their overwhelming busyness.
They apparently showed up like a breeze, swiftly completed their healing, and left without much chance to express gratitude.
“Perhaps, the prisoners or patients might remember their names…”
The trainee priest said with a vexed expression—
“Tomorrow morning we’ll be setting sail so it’s unlikely we’ll have the time to investigate.”
Because Edgar prioritized battlefield inspections during the day, he had missed his chance to gather information at the Kaemuran Holy Church.
Well… the old elf’s name wasn’t that important. (Though it did bother him greatly.)
More importantly—
“Now, where’s the report…”
Illuminating the tip of his fingers with magic light, Edgar entered the restricted archives.
What he sought of course was the detailed report on the attack by the Demon Lord’s Prince.
…By the way, the term “restricted personnel” in this case refers to those who are not affiliated with the Holy Church. Therefore, as a priest of the Holy Church, Edgar was indeed one of the involved parties, meaning access to the archives was permissible.
Edgar sat at the table with a pile of reports in his arms, fiddled with a lamp until the flame ignited (after all, it was tiring to keep the magical light maintained while reading) and began poring over the documents like a starving man.
—An outline organized in chronological order. The progression of battle based on the testimonies of Imperial soldiers. Response actions of the Kaemuran Holy Church. The state of the city of Kaemuran—all meticulously documented.
The real condition of the casualties was laid bare.
A list of deceased members of the Holy Church. Edgar couldn’t help but gasp at the number of dead, which seemed unfitting for a battle against a single demon.
—And then.
“Bishop Lexar Marthihunt…”
It was a familiar name.
He had met him once during his time at the Academy. He had suggested he join the Vampire Hunters—though there was an interest, he had merely been curious and thought there must be more suitable people than himself, so he declined and aspired to become a priest instead.
“He has… passed away…”
He was a dignified man. Surely, he had hated vampires more than anyone else. He had mastery as well.
And yet, against the Demon Lord’s Prince…
What a regrettable fate…
With a solemn expression, Edgar continued perusing through the list, when—
“—”
His breath was caught in his throat when he came across “that name.”
“Hero… Alexander…?”
Affiliation: Unknown.
Origin: Unknown.
Family name: Unknown.
Circumstances of death: Unknown.
What was found was only a part of the corpse, just the left forearm, and it had already been cremated.
“…What does this mean?”
As night began to descend, Edgar burst into the duty room with the report in hand. A slightly sleepy priest, waiting for night-time emergencies, jumped as he entered suddenly.
“Please!”
“W-What? Who are you? Edgar-san?”
“There’s something I want to inquire regarding this report. It may involve a friend of mine.”
Upon hearing about the deceased, the priest seemed to awaken somewhat.
“About this… ‘Hero Alexander.’ Do you know what he looked like?”
“No, I only arrived after the demon prince’s attack. I have hardly any acquaintances among the names on this list.”
The priest, who had been sent as reinforcement, answered apologetically.
“Is that so… According to this report, they only found the forearm. They claim they don’t even know the circumstances of death. How did they conclude that this arm belongs to ‘Hero Alexander’?”
“There was a famed Vampire Hunter among the deceased.”
“Could it be, Bishop Lexar?”
“…You’ve heard of him? Were you acquainted?”
“I met him once.”
“…I see. I’ve heard he was a remarkable person. That Demon Lord’s Prince…! …But we’ve digressed. A beastman who was a companion of Bishop Lexar had an excellent sense of smell and was able to identify individuals from their scent.”
If that were the case, it meant—
“That beastman had interacted with Hero Alexander…?”
“Perhaps he did…”
“Do you know that person’s name? Can we hear from him directly?”
“Unfortunately, I never had direct communication with that beastman, and I have no idea where he is currently. He seemed to be searching diligently for traces of the Demon Lord, Zilbagias, here, but now that I think about it, I haven’t seen him at all recently… Maybe he has given up… I apologize, but I unfortunately can’t keep track of their movements…”
The priest raised his hands in resignation.
“…No, that’s alright. It’s not your responsibility…”
Essentially, the management responsibility for the collaborating beastmen and forest elves lay with the respective Vampire Hunters who employed them. The Holy Church didn’t interfere, allowing flexibility in personally incorporating capable personnel as comrades if found on-site.
Conversely, if a Vampire Hunter died, the Holy Church had almost no means to pursue the matter.
“If a Vampire Hunter dies in duty, their allies usually return to their home country…”
The reinforcement priest wore a face that seemed to understand that sentiment very well.
Unless one had a strong grudge against vampires, a forest elf or beastman who had shared joys and sorrows with a deceased Vampire Hunter wouldn’t wish to hunt vampires even with another hunter.
If someone possessed that kind of motivation, they would likely maintain connections with the Holy Church to keep track of their whereabouts. The inability to know where they are meant— that likely meant they had no intention of continuing with vampire hunting.
“Perhaps if I inquire over at the Holy Country’s exorcist division, there may be some records left behind. At least, from the village of their origin… If that’s known, it wouldn’t be impossible to find them,” Edgar suggested.
However, it would require immense effort to investigate—
And that would surely require:
(Why do I want to go that far to investigate…?)
A reason. Or perhaps, a motive.
“…Since I’m heading to the Holy Country anyway, once I arrive, I’ll look into that direction,” Edgar said, forcing a slightly awkward smile.
“That seems appropriate.”
“Do you have any other leads on anyone who might have known Hero Alexander? I mean, it’s possible this could just be another person sharing the same name…”
“Well now… There should be a trainee priest who was originally assigned to the Kaemuran Holy Church—”
—The “survivor” who remained back instead of joining the sortie after hearing about the Demon Prince Zilbagias’s attack.
Glancing towards the dark window, the reinforcement priest mused,
“…Shall I wake him up?”
…Unfortunately, Edgar decided to wake him up.
†††
“……….”
Some time later, Edgar returned to the archives with the report in hand.
(No returns, huh?)
In short, the trainee priests hardly remembered anything about Hero Alexander. Rather, it seemed he hadn’t even stayed a single day in Kaemuran.
Moreover, due to the simultaneous visit of the famed Hero Arthur, known for his achievements at Aulitos Lake, and the assorted group of Vampire Hunters led by Bishop Lexar, it seemed it only muddied the waters further as to who was who.
“Hero Arthur was a mysterious handsome man with an impressive aura; just seeing him left an impression…”
“I feel like someone was friendly with Hero Arthur, but I can’t tell if that was Hero Alexander or someone else from the Vampire Hunters…”
“Sorry, I was just busy with chores, so I didn’t even meet them.”
Edgar mentioned whatever traits he could recall and even attempted to sketch a rough portrait, but the responses he received were all vague along the lines of “I think I’ve seen someone like that” and “I think someone like that existed” without any reliable information.
If only even one person had survived…
If so, it might have been possible to identify him.
Everyone believed to have interacted with Hero Alexander had perished in battle against the Demon Prince Zilbagias—
“……….”
In the stillness of the archives lit by the lamp, Edgar found himself lost in thought before the report.
“…If.”
If the “Hero Alexander” listed among the deceased was the same Alexander he knew—
“The forearm was the only part found…”
According to the report, it seemed the Demon Prince Zilbagias employed a brutal curse that would cause anything struck by his spear to explode.
It was said that among the deceased from the Holy Church, there were some who were found to be nothing but flesh chunks—meaning that in that context, “only the forearm remained” wasn’t unreasonable.
If the sensitive-nosed beastman had concluded that the smell belonged to Alexander, then at the very least, it was highly likely that the arm truly belonged to “Alexander”—
“……….”
Flipping through the report, Edgar noted an oddity: the Demon Prince Zilbagias apparently talked freely about his secret techniques in battle.
“…Teleportation Spell.”
Edgar murmured.
The words dissolved into the shadows of the room, leaving nothing but silence behind—
He turned another page of the report. After bragging about his own secrets, Zilbagias paid the price for his arrogance.
He had been poisoned.
It seemed that the teleportation spell could actually not handle the situation, as he grew weaker by the minute, and it was said he was nearly taken down by Hero Arthur’s unrelenting assault.
However—there had been an intervening presence.
“…The White Dragon.”
The wick of the lamp crackled as it burned and sizzled.
The magical beast that descended from the sky—once the enemy of humanity, now considered an ally of humanity, the White Dragon.
For some unknown reason, it shielded the Demon Prince.
Its barrage of breath caused immense damage to both the Empire soldiers and the Holy Church.
And then, it whisked the Demon Prince Zilbagias away, disappearing into the skies…
“……….”
Gigi, gigi— as the wick finally burnt out.
The thick veil of night fell over the room.
Only the starlight filtered through the window—
The darkness deepened, and the silence grew painfully loud to the ears.
In that moment—Edgar’s eyes alone shone brilliantly.
If “Hero Alexander” was indeed the “him” he knew.
Then, where exactly was “she”?
“…Leila.”
Noone answered.
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※ Next time, the main story will return from Zil’s perspective.
