High Oak (4)
The Sanctuary Guardians.
They protect the sanctuaries of the High Oaks and serve as the personal guard to the current Grand Chief, the manager of the sanctuary.
These guardians heed only the Grand Chief’s commands. So, if they attacked the council of chiefs, it means one of two things.
Either there’s a problem with the Grand Chief or the sanctuary itself.
“Or perhaps the Grand Chief, for some reason, ordered the chiefs to be eliminated.”
Of course, standing before the oncoming spears and blades, there was no time to ponder such possibilities. Not for a High Oak.
To those who lived for battle, there was only one word for anyone who raised a weapon against them.
“Enemy!”
“The guardians are the enemy!”
“Fight! Kill them!”
“Raaaargh!”
Axes larger than a grown man, iron clubs, maces, and greatswords flashed simultaneously. The High Oak chiefs, without a second thought, began smashing through doors and walls to escape.
Clang! Boom! Crash!
Soon, the sound of weapons clashing echoed all around. The real battle with the guardians surrounding the stone mansion had begun.
Dalen drew his sacred sword a bit later. Rather than diving into the fray, he prioritized checking on the safety of his companions waiting at the guest house.
“Even though Felber, the archmage, is there and everyone can handle themselves, it’s better to be sure.”
Letting his thoughts drift, he naturally leaned back.
Whizz―!
A gleaming disc whizzed past where his head had been moments before.
Crash!
A hand axe disappeared, leaving a large hole in one wall.
Regaining his balance, Dalen turned to see a black orc with a hole in its forehead, standing awkwardly with one arm outstretched.
[Interesting.]
The ancient dragon within him murmured in admiration.
[An undead based on a strong body. But it’s not necromancy. It’s a pure form of shamanism, reviving only the body’s functions without a soul.]
Even trapped in another’s body, a dragon is still a dragon.
To discern the nature of the sanctuary guardians at a glance—such was the insight of a dragon that had lived for millennia.
The guardians, who usually lay dormant, loyal to the Grand Chief’s commands.
In truth, they were the corpses of High Oak warriors, including former Grand Chiefs and the most powerful warriors known.
“After sending off the souls of their ancestors, they undergo a special shamanistic process to revive only the body’s functions.”
Thus, unlike typical undead raised by necromancers, these creatures retained the abilities of the warriors they once were.
They lacked the presence and domain crafted by a soul’s essence.
But their physical abilities, senses, learned skills, and combat instincts were as potent as the originals.
The Grand Chief, an equal to transcendents, meant the guardian before him had physical capabilities at the fifth rank.
Whoosh―
A black figure charged, using the shattered stone table as a backdrop.
The guardian’s black hand reached out, only to be deflected by Dalen’s sword.
Thunk―
It didn’t cut.
Its skin was tougher than the hide of the most resilient monsters.
The transcendent body, honed to the fifth rank, surpassed the limits of its species by far.
As soon as he deflected one hand, the other reached for his throat. The guardian’s hand was faster than retrieving his sword.
Ting―
Dalen let out a slight smile and released his grip on the sword.
“Artisan Armor”
“Flame Armor”
He twisted his shoulder, cloaked in flames like armor, to deflect the grasp, then countered with a knee strike to the guardian’s exposed abdomen.
Boom―
With a sound like a drumbeat, flames erupted from his knee.
Crash!
The guardian, hit squarely in the chest by the explosion, smashed through the roof and soared into the sky.
Dalen leaped after it, relentlessly pummeling the creature with limbs clad in fiery armor.
Boom-boom-boom―
Each strike echoed like a magnified firecracker.
Armor wasn’t just for defense; it was a weapon too, a unique aspect of Dehama’s armored combat.
By reinterpreting it through the universal medium of spells, he combined the strengths of magic and martial arts to amplify its power.
Whoosh―
Using the air as a foothold, he rose above the guardian’s head.
“Flame Armor: Crimson Torrent”
Then, a downward strike on the guardian’s massive form, which had endured countless attacks.
Boom―!
A kick at a speed invisible to the eye.
Followed by a flood of flames.
The guardian, plummeting back toward the stone mansion, seemed swept away by a fiery waterfall.
Roarrrr…
Where the black figure fell, a cascade of flames poured over it like molten lava, engulfing the surroundings.
Dalen landed atop the now half-ruined mansion. The sanctuary guardian stood precariously over a crater melted by the heat.
Its once-solid body was dented and torn, white steam rising from its wounds.
Yet it still lived. Its core, the source of its power, remained intact.
“Haaah…”
As it opened its mouth, white steam billowed out. Simultaneously, a purple gleam flickered in its dark eyes.
The ancient dragon, observing through Dalen, expressed interest once more.
[Fascinating. It shares aspects with necromancy. It operates independently of the caster, yet allows direct willful intervention, unlike other summoning arts.]
Once again, the dragon’s insight was spot on.
A necromancer empowered by an evil god could not only command minions but also project their consciousness into their bodies.
While the sanctuary guardian’s creation differed from necromancy, it shared the ability for the master to intervene in the minion’s body.
If a necromancer was the master of the undead, the sanctuary guardian’s master was none other than the current Grand Chief.
Dalen aimed to exploit this very point.
[Curious why you held back your strength, but you’ve already thought that far ahead.]
’…You’re perceptive.’
[You never fail to entertain me. I look forward to more.]
The dragon, having anticipated Dalen’s plan, chuckled softly and faded from presence. Dalen relaxed his shoulders and refocused on the guardian.
It remained still, not making any rash moves.
Based on the combat memories etched into its body, it likely realized its chances of victory were slim.
Yet, with its master’s command to attack, it should have charged regardless of the odds.
So why wasn’t it attacking?
The answer was clear.
“Grand Chief.”
As he slowly retrieved his sacred sword, Dalen spoke to the guardian’s eyes.
There was no response. The once-glowing purple eyes had returned to their dull, dark hue.
“Grand Chief. Your subordinates are dying.”
Silence persisted. The distant sounds of battle faintly reached them.
The chiefs had drawn the fight with the sanctuary guardians away from the village to protect it.
The clash of warriors, each with their own domain, shook the ground even from afar.
With the sacred sword planted in the earth, Dalen spoke again.
If the Grand Chief was truly behind this attack.
And if, despite any corruption by demons, a part of the Grand Chief he knew still remained.
He couldn’t ignore what Dalen was about to say.
“Grand Chief. Is there something wrong with your head?”
”…”
“If there’s a problem, you need a good hit. Usually, a hit fixes things.”
With a sly grin, he mimed tapping his head, and the guardian’s eyes flared with a vivid purple light.
[Words my mentor, the former Grand Chief, left only to me.]
Whoosh…
Air rushed outward from the guardian, scattering dust and debris.
The presence of a transcendent settled heavily in the ruins of the stone mansion.
The Grand Chief, using the guardian’s body, twisted its lips into a bizarre smile and spoke.
[How do you know that?]
“I heard the former Grand Chief of the High Oaks was quite the eccentric old man.”
Dalen tapped the ground with his sword tip as he spoke. The black orc’s face twisted further.
[I asked how you knew. Enough with the nonsense.]
“Come on, how else would I know? You told me.”
[…Lying without a twitch. I expected more from someone on the verge of transcendence, but you’re just a con artist.]
The guardian sighed dismissively, then looked beyond the ruined mansion walls to the ongoing battle between the guardians and the chiefs on the mountainside.
[I don’t know how you know that, but if your aim was to catch my interest, you’ve half-succeeded, human. Was your plan to keep me from intervening in the fight over there?]
“Who knows. If you answer first, I’ll tell you. How did you end up accepting a demon?”
[…Nonsense. Demons, you say.]
The guardian’s eyes flashed a deep violet.
“Don’t insult us High Orcs, who have fought against demons since time immemorial. We’ve endured countless divisions and battles to get here, but we’ve never bowed to demons.”
“Everyone knows High Orcs can’t lie.”
“What?”
“Even when you speak through someone else’s face, your lies are obvious. Seems like even a chieftain can’t hide it. Maybe you should’ve asked the Grand Duke of the Corpse Swamp, Ztanc, for some deception skills.”
“How do you know about that…!”
The guardian, who had been shouting with eyes wide open, suddenly stopped. He realized too late that his reaction had just confirmed the truth.
“How do I know? Just a lucky guess. You’re really terrible at lying.”
“You little…! I’ll tear you limb from limb!”
Realizing he’d been played, the black High Orc charged with a roar.
The ground where he had stood split open, and with a rubber band-like illusion, his form closed the distance in an instant.
Dalen stepped back, matching the speed, and signaled.
To the demon, who was warming up its power in a pocket dimension.
‘I’ve given you enough time, haven’t I?’
[…Yes! Ready!]
Though he could have ended the fight easily, Dalen had continued the exchange for another reason.
Confirming the involvement of the high-ranking demon under the evil god Ssum, the Grand Duke of the Corpse Swamp, was just a bonus.
The real reason was to buy time for the demon to gather its strength.
The power obtained after absorbing the essence of the demon Kalkas.
To unleash the true potential of what was once one of the World Tree’s powers.
[Here we go…!]
The space around them rippled as portals to the pocket dimension opened.
Simultaneously, dozens of thick chains, radiating a chilling cold, shot toward the sanctuary’s guardian.
Clang, clang, clang…!
“Such petty tricks! Grrr!”
The guardian swung his arms to shake off the chains, but it wasn’t easy.
No matter how transcendent the body that once touched the fifth rank was, without a soul, it was just an empty shell.
Snap—!
With a flick of his fingers, the hand axe that had been flung away returned to Dalen’s grasp.
Thud—!
In the next moment, the axe handle, which had sprouted again from the guardian’s shoulder, began to vibrate.
“This…!”
Boom!
A golden explosion cut off the guardian’s words, erecting a pillar of light.
Into it, the chains imbued with cold relentlessly surged.
When the golden pillar vanished, the guardian’s body, missing an arm, was tightly bound in blue chains.
”…Kalkas’s chains, huh. A necromancer, are you?”
Even in defeat, the violet in the guardian’s eyes did not fade.
It wasn’t by choice that he remained.
The cold, which froze both material and immaterial across space, had trapped part of the chieftain’s consciousness with his body.
“Keep it safe, and I’ll bring you another demon essence later.”
[Yes!]
Leaving the demon to guard the guardian, whose consciousness was partially bound, Dalen stepped outside the mansion.
With a prisoner and witness secured, it was time to wrap up the battle here.
‘Once I confirm the safety of my companions, I’ll help the chieftains deal with the remaining guardians.’
Having made his decision, Dalen leapt onto the cliff. He looked down from the air.
Inside the village, which had begun to burn from the guardians’ attack, Felber and his group were fighting alongside the High Orcs against the guardians.
He took a short breath and raised his holy sword.
As the shadows of storm clouds began to gather over the crumbling village walls and stone houses.
With a swift turn, he kicked off the air, charging toward the ground like a bolt of lightning.
Boom…
The sky and the holy sword cried out together.