Pursuit (3)
“I heard you’ve ventured into the labyrinth before.”
The middle-aged knight spoke, and Dalen nodded absentmindedly. What was this guy’s name again?
As the nominal leader of the group approached, Dalen thought it might be something important, but it seemed the knight just wanted to make conversation.
“Ah, you might not remember my name. I’m Sir Maug, a senior knight.”
“Dalen.”
“I’ve heard of your reputation as a dragonslayer. Sir Lucia mentioned that as soon as you entered the labyrinth, you single-handedly decimated a settlement of thousands of gnolls.”
“I wasn’t alone. Lucia was with me.”
Dalen replied, chewing on some jerky made from the hind leg of a dragon, aged by Lucia herself.
Lucia, who had been with Dalen for a long time, chose not to join this mission and stayed back at the main base. She felt her lack of skill was holding Dalen back and decided to focus on training after gaining enough field experience over the past few months. She also intended to guide Farren, who had just joined the Holy Knights as a trainee.
Having been recognized for her contributions in retrieving the holy sword and quelling the rebellion, Lucia had recently been promoted to a full-fledged knight. With that promotion came the qualification to train new recruits, and the timing was perfect.
“Of course, Sir Lucia is a promising junior. But I heard the strategy came from your deep insight, Sir Dalen. You annihilated the scouts and used the homing instincts of the shell wolves to ambush the settlement.”
Maug spoke with an excited expression.
Dalen scratched his chin silently. He wasn’t used to flattery from strangers.
Maug continued to recount Dalen’s exploits for a while longer. The destruction of the demon Golakap, the retrieval of the holy sword, and the defeat of the Ash Witch, followed by the burning of the forest mandrakes. It seemed Maug had done his homework over the past fortnight, eager to build rapport with the new wielder of the holy sword.
Dalen could almost picture Lucia being bombarded with questions by this middle-aged knight.
“Ahem.”
Even Maug’s chatter, reminiscent of a merchant, had its limits. After a couple of hours, he ran out of material to praise Dalen with, and Dalen’s lukewarm reactions didn’t help.
Once Maug fell silent, the group lapsed into a quiet lull. Since the battle at the Third Sanctuary, Felber had become unusually reticent, and Tommy mirrored his mentor’s silence. Apart from the occasional small talk between inquisitors and senior knights, a subtle awkwardness lingered in the air.
For Dalen, who had traveled with the same group for a while, it was a long-forgotten atmosphere.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
The group rode at a steady pace.
As the valley deepened, the distance between the cliffs widened. What had been a narrow path barely wide enough for five or six carriages side by side had expanded to nearly a hundred meters.
‘It’ll keep widening like this until we reach the Estra River.’
Dalen recalled the view from the monitor of the deep fissure. Kilometers apart, the towering cliffs rose tens of kilometers high. As they descended, the cliffs were riddled with caves spewing lava and toxic fumes, with bizarre landscapes scattered like those found in a labyrinth.
And as they reached the depths, the kilometers-wide descent split into countless paths, intertwining like a maze, becoming both the entrance to the labyrinth and part of the labyrinth itself.
‘The Estra River marks the boundary of that demonic realm.’
The Estra River, marking the border between the Empire and the Kingdom of Noria, ended at the fissure. Plummeting from a height of tens of kilometers, it flowed through the heart of the fissure, serving as a natural boundary between the realms of monsters and humans.
The group’s primary destination was a massive fortress built on this side of the vast river, the second largest stronghold of the knights after the main base.
‘Estra Fortress.’
Over five days, the group passed through two fortresses.
There were four fortresses built by the knights within the fissure. Apart from the Estra Fortress, the frontline defense, the others served as intermediate bases and supply depots.
On the evening of the fifth day, the group arrived at the third fortress, unpacked, and gathered in the meeting room.
“In two days, we’ll reach the first line of defense, Estra Fortress,” Maug began.
“Once we arrive at Estra Fortress, we’ll be on the move constantly, so let’s review the detailed strategy for this mission.”
With a rustle, Maug spread a map on the table, showing the main base of the knights and the general layout of the fissure.
“We suspect the traitor Everlock is hiding here. It’s an area still untouched by the knights, a realm of monsters.”
His gloved finger pointed to a spot on the map, across the Estra River, in the demonic valley outside the knights’ domain.
“Unlike the single, continuous river on this side, the demonic valley is a tangled mess of dozens of large and small valleys. It’s a place where getting lost is a bigger concern than tracking someone.”
Fortunately, the mercenaries joining us will guide us. Maug added.
“First, Sir Felber, a senior wizard from the Elgaia Tower, has the ability to read the memory of the land.”
“Unlike humans, the earth does not forget. By examining the places Everlock has stepped, we can determine where he went from there.”
Felber nodded. Having been silent throughout the journey, it was a rare moment to hear his voice.
With confirmation, Maug turned his attention to Dalen.
“And Sir Dalen, you possess an artifact that can track our target.”
“Here it is.”
Dalen pulled out a glass orb from his pocket. Inside, a blue metal arrow had been pointing unwaveringly in one direction for the past fortnight.
“The Fragment of the Seeker’s Left Eye. I heard there aren’t many left.”
Felber looked at the glass orb with interest. Dalen shrugged and tucked the artifact back into his pocket.
Maug nodded with satisfaction and continued.
“Now that we’ve confirmed the fundamental solution for the pursuit, let’s discuss the detailed tactics.”
The meeting went on for a long time.
How to maintain basic formations once they entered the monster’s valley, how to divide into teams if necessary, securing retreat routes, and ensuring local supplies in worst-case scenarios—small but crucial details were discussed.
‘It’s been a while since I’ve been in a meeting like this.’
Dalen listened quietly from one side of the table, arms crossed. He recalled a similar command meeting when fighting the Apostles of Regression in the labyrinth city. Unlike the chaotic situation back then, where he had to lead the operation himself, the veteran knights efficiently decided on the core and details of the plan without his intervention.
The plan was so solid that even Dalen, who prided himself on being a seasoned player of this game, was impressed. No matter what variables arose, it seemed they could ensure the safety of everyone involved in the operation.
As he stood back from the meeting, only answering questions when asked for advice, Dalen suddenly felt a sense of alertness and turned his head.
’…Hmm.’
A very faint, yet unsettling warning from his intuition.
Dalen closed his eyes for a moment, expanding his senses.
The vibrations beneath his feet, the faint sound of water flowing through the pipes in the walls, the complex and varied scents seeping through the cracks in the stone, and the subtle changes in the magical currents all penetrated his mind.
The result, processed by his brain mixing and blending these stimuli, was a clearer warning than before.
It was now impossible to ignore.
His senses, intelligence, and magical prowess had already surpassed the mere combination of the five senses.
Tap. Tap.
With a light tap on the table, he drew the attention of the bustling meeting room.
Everyone present, warriors or wizards who had honed themselves throughout their lives, could not miss the subtle change in the air from that small gesture.
Dalen spoke.
“Sorry, but it seems we’ll have to finalize the rest of the plan later.”
Bang!
As soon as he finished speaking, a knight burst into the meeting room.
A high-ranking knight stationed at the fortress, he bowed deeply with an urgent expression and spoke.
“I apologize for interrupting the meeting, but you need to come to the ramparts immediately.”
“What’s going on?”
Maug, the nominal leader of the group, asked. The knight replied in a slightly trembling voice.
“A horde of thousands of gnolls is heading this way.”
On the ramparts.
The length of the wall at this second line of defense matched the width of the valley itself, serving as a literal defensive line.
The wall stretched approximately three kilometers wide, but the defending force numbered less than a thousand.
Most of them were ordinary crusaders, not the holy knights who wielded the power of sacred tattoos.
“Well, it’s not the main defensive line, just a supply fortress. The Order doesn’t have infinite troops, after all.”
Dalen thought as he surveyed the sparse soldiers lining the fortress walls.
The fortress, being one of the Order’s defensive lines, was sturdy enough to withstand an assault from a demon-led army. However, a well-fortified structure alone couldn’t fill the gap left by insufficient manpower.
No matter how many ballista bolts and holy-infused catapult stones they had, they were meaningless without enough soldiers to operate them.
“How did you know?” Maug asked, his eyes fixed on the approaching gnoll army in the distance. Dalen gave a brief reply.
“Just a hunch.”
“Impressive. To predict an army of two thousand gnolls by instinct… or is it closer to three thousand?”
“More like a little over five thousand.”
Maug squinted, drawing on the power of his sacred tattoos.
“Can you really see all that through the darkness?”
Dalen shrugged.
The deeper they ventured into the rift, the faster the sun set. By the time they reached the second defensive line, it was already dark by early evening. The towering cliffs on either side blocked out most of the moon and starlight, casting a deeper darkness than on the surface.
But for Dalen, the darkness was irrelevant.
“A few wolf-rider scouts are approaching, carrying a blue banner,” he noted.
“A blue banner? That’s the Azure Scale army. They’re sending an envoy!” Maug shouted.
The fortress commander barked orders, and the flag bearers signaled in response.
The ballistae, already loaded with massive bolts, adjusted their aim with a creak of pulleys, their tips gleaming ominously in the shadows.
Soon, the sound of pounding hooves announced the arrival of the gnoll cavalry. They boldly entered the range of the braziers lit outside the fortress walls.
Archers drew their bows naturally, and crossbowmen aimed at the gnoll riders and their armored wolves.
In the tense silence, a massive gnoll stepped forward from the cavalry ranks and opened its maw.
“Rrrr! Abandon the fortress!”
Oh, so this one can speak.
Recalling a gnoll warlord he’d once fought in the labyrinth, Dalen raised an eyebrow. If these dog-headed creatures could speak human language, it meant they had been granted power by a transcendent being.
“Usually a high demon or an evil god. In this case, it must be a true dragon.”
A true dragon, while not as formidable as an evil god, was certainly a match for demons. Although the Azure Scale, one of the rift’s rulers, had lost much of its power due to old wounds, it was still on par with a mid-level demon.
The fact that this gnoll had received power directly from the Azure Scale meant the dragon was orchestrating this massive invasion.
“This is going to be troublesome.”
Dalen had considered the possibility when Deputy Commander Everlock staged an unexpected rebellion and fled to the Azure Scale’s lair.
The situation he had anticipated was the mother dragon, the Azure Scale, directly attacking the Order.
The problem was that, unlike typical boss monsters, Dalen had never encountered the Azure Scale in hundreds of playthroughs.
“In the game, it never attacked the Order until it died.”
The Azure Scale’s existence was more of a background setting. It maintained a long-standing balance with the Order while building a powerful force for a future invasion.
The dragon died from old injuries before the game reached its midpoint. Its only offspring, inheriting its power and influence, emerged as one of the formidable late-game bosses.
“Among the corpses it devoured… there was that character too.”
One of the few successes in Dalen’s hundreds of playthroughs, surviving until the early endgame.
“Surrender! Then I’ll only eat your limbs! Rrrr! I’ll spare your torso and head!”
While Dalen recalled the character devoured by the dragon’s offspring, the gnoll leader was hurling insults, trying to intimidate the Order.
Of course, the Order wasn’t one to yield to such threats. The commander spoke quietly.
“Archers, kill that creature. We do not negotiate with monsters.”