Episode 641
The man with long teal hair lifted his head. Before him hung a large portrait that filled the broad wall—a perfect likeness of the late King Eriponi, wearing his usual confident smile.
Though ten years had passed, Elderet saw no sign of fading in the image of his predecessor.
“Your Majesty, it seems Kalamath has been completely overrun.”
“I see.”
Elderet responded as if he had expected the news. A kingdom left leaderless, how could it have survived the onslaught of Bariel’s emperor and his legion of mages?
The only glimmer of hope had been Rutherford’s occupation of Agiar, but with his fate now uncertain, the outcome was all too predictable.
“It’s truly regrettable. Had I known, I might have withheld some support.”
“That’s enough. At the time, it was the right call. There’s no use dwelling on past regrets.”
The black-armored knights, the mages, even the dragons sent to Agiar—all were precious assets, the lifeblood of Luswena’s military might. Though they had been shattered by Bariel’s forces, they had at least fought.
“Any word from Bariel yet?”
“No, Your Majesty. They’ve been preoccupied with moving south from Agiar to Kalamath.”
Since Rutherford had supported Agiar, Bariel would surely respond with protests and retaliation. Now that Kalamath had fallen, it wouldn’t be long before they acted. Luswena’s remaining time was running out.
Elderet flipped through the report his aide had brought and asked, “How are the dragons progressing?”
“Thanks to the growth accelerants, they’re developing twice as fast as expected. By next month, we should have around a hundred ready for deployment.”
Aside from mages, dragons were nearly the strongest force on the battlefield. Thousands of ordinary soldiers couldn’t take down a single dragon.
Moreover, dragons were valuable not only on their own but for the effects they generated.
“And the black-armored knights?”
“We’re continuing to gather ‘Kaglin’ from dragons unfit for battle. During Agiar, we sacrificed quality for quantity, but this time, purity is at its peak.”
One black armor unit could handle about three magic swordsmen. While tactics would determine victory or defeat, these black-armored knights were the only ones capable of filling the gap left by the magic swordsmen in Luswena’s ranks.
“They’ll be assigned to the most skilled knights.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
These wouldn’t be mere sword-wielding amateurs but warriors capable of understanding and countering the magic swordsmen’s techniques. With this, Luswena could reasonably hold its own against Bariel’s forces.
“But, Your Majesty, the real problem lies with the mages. Even with Idgal, they no longer guarantee superiority.”
“Yes. Ian Hielo—that’s the real issue.”
Luswena’s mages were no match in number for Bariel’s. Ten years ago, many had defected to Bariel.
“I witnessed the power of their mages firsthand during the last Clipoford War. Our defeat came down to one thing: the mages.”
That was why, upon ascending the throne, Elderet established a magic department within the palace. He invested in discovering latent magic users across the country and succeeded in hiring mercenary mages. Though not as strong as ten years ago, Luswena had since built a formidable magical power, second only to Bariel.
“Ahem. Your Majesty, I must apologize, but the magic department has requested additional funding. Nearly half the mages remaining there aren’t native Luswena, and it seems they’re leveraging the situation to increase their worth.”
What about the Luswena-born mages? Did they truly love their homeland enough to protect it?
No. They knew from history how the palace had treated mages. Though King Eriponi had died and Elderet succeeded him, he was still her closest confidant—a political heir to her reign.
“Grant their request.”
“But the budget—”
“It’s fine. We only need to keep them just enough.”
Muttering to himself, Elderet stamped the approval.
“Until those from Hawan arrive.”
“…Understood, Your Majesty.”
It was an open secret that Hawan’s Prime Minister Shatima had been assassinated by a close aide. Few knew the full story, even within Hawan itself.
With a soft rustle, Elderet pulled out a letter from a drawer. Sent unofficially from Toorun, it held no diplomatic weight but would heavily influence his decisions.
‘Supporting the Puppeteer…’
The letter detailed how Toorun planned to intervene in Hawan’s affairs. It was likely that Shatima’s death was orchestrated by someone under the Puppeteer’s control.
Elderet traced the edge of the paper thoughtfully. If the Puppeteer, having completed his work in Hawan, entered Luswena, he would gather all the mages in one place.
‘Forbidden magic. With that alone, facing Bariel wouldn’t be impossible.’
But the mages wouldn’t sacrifice themselves for Luswena. That was why the Puppeteer’s help was essential. Their involvement would secure the blind loyalty of the mages, and Toorun would achieve their shared goal: Bariel’s downfall. Though distant, their alliance was mutually beneficial.
‘I remember the old man who used forbidden magic during the Clipoford War. Even Ian Hielo couldn’t handle it and fell. If we mobilize all remaining mages to wield forbidden magic, we can definitely neutralize Bariel’s mages. Without them, Luswena holds the advantage.’
Elderet turned back to Eriponi’s portrait—the late king who had died in Bariel’s palace.
He had not hesitated to use contract magic with mages. Now, Elderet was ushering in a new era, but at his core, he still heeded the commands of the previous generation.
“What about the mages who went up to the Great Desert?”
“No reports yet, but there’s no cause for concern. How could those beasts in Cheonryeo stand against airborne mages? As long as they find the Cheonryeo stronghold, the plan will proceed.”
Luswena had two routes into Bariel: through Hielo or from the south.
The south bordered Clipoford and was heavily guarded. Though that region was unstable, it was still a national-level force compared to the leaderless borderlands of Hielo. So the easiest path was through Hielo.
‘The Cheonryeo tribe guards Hielo. After allying with them—once hostile—they trimmed unnecessary forces and gained great profit. That means without Cheonryeo, Hielo is practically an open door.’
Everything was falling perfectly into place. The Cheonryeo lived deep in the Great Desert, so even if they were wiped out, Hielo wouldn’t notice immediately. They’d only realize their homeland had been attacked once Luswena confronted them.
“Very well. For now, grant the mages whatever they want to keep them tied to the palace. It won’t be long—Hawan to Luswena is not far.”
With a final stamp, Elderet handed the documents back to his aide and surveyed the room.
In one corner of his office lay the massive bow Eriponi had used in life, as if still thirsting for blood.
“Ugh!”
The three mages from Luswena crouched low, shielding their faces. They hadn’t realized the sandstorm would be this fierce and biting. Closing their eyes and covering their noses and mouths with sleeves, they still couldn’t clear their heads amid the swirling sand.
“We have to retreat!”
“What? I can’t hear you! Where is everyone?”
“We’re here! Wait—damn it!”
“Don’t fall!”
They couldn’t even exchange brief words; every time they opened their mouths, grains of sand invaded.
The three Luswena mages sensed they had truly reached their limit.
‘Portal!’
They had to open a way back. But that required all three to combine their power—impossible in this chaos. First, they needed to raise a protective barrier to secure some space—
Ziiing! Ziiing!
Just as one mage raised a shield, a Cheonryeo warrior hiding in the storm noticed. Twisting his body, he used the wind currents to move as he wished. Having lived through countless sandstorms, they knew exactly how to maneuver.
Klang!
The Cheonryeo warrior, wielding a small Idgal, struck the barrier with all his might. Only one strike was allowed. As expected, the force of the wind sent him flying backward, but he would climb back up.
Meanwhile, other warriors kept battering the shield.
Klang! Klang!
“…!”
The barrier blocked some of the sandstorm’s fury, but the mages froze as they watched the relentless Cheonryeo warriors dart in and out.
Their eyes burned with a relentless, almost blind determination—like starving beasts trapped in a cage. If the barrier broke, they feared those warriors would tear them limb from limb.
“Damn it!”
Each mage raised their own shield. Now that they could locate each other, all that remained was to summon the magic circle and open the portal. Whether they could focus in this chaos was uncertain, but to survive, they had to try.
‘If only this storm weren’t here, those bastards would be nothing!’
Just like that dawn when they ambushed Cheollyeo, a single gesture would have been enough to snuff out their breath. The moment the mages bit down hard on their lower lips, about to summon a portal—
Whoooom!
Shhhhhh! Shhh!
As the magical energy sustaining their protective barrier scattered, the Cheollyeo warriors struck in unison. The shield shattered into countless fragments, and the disoriented mages were instantly swept up in the storm.
“Ugh—!”
There wasn’t even time to scream. Breath caught, vision darkened, and their bodies felt utterly powerless before nature’s wrath.
Just as one mage struggled to regain composure and tried to raise the barrier again, a faint silhouette appeared through the tempest. Gradually, it became clearer—Cheollyeo warriors throwing themselves after the mage’s back.
“Demosha!”
A cry so strong and majestic it pierced through the howling storm. The mage thrashed desperately, but a warrior seized his ankle. Before the mage could react with magic, a single hand crushed his bones.
Crack!
“Aaaah!”
Sadly, the mage’s scream was swallowed by the wind.
Then, a hand reached down from above. Kakan. He grabbed the mage by the nape, pulling him close, and bound his limbs with all his strength.
“Grrrkk!”
Slowly, he tightened his grip around the mage’s throat. As the mage’s mouth opened, sand poured in, filling it until he finally exhaled his last breath.
With no resistance left, Kakan relaxed his hand and drew a dagger.
Thud!
Without hesitation, he plunged the blade into the dead man’s heart. Once, twice, three times—dozens of strikes in place of his fallen kin.
Whoosh!
Blood and sand splattered across Kakan as he caught a signal from his comrades and lowered his stance. Two more remained somewhere in the storm.
Without hesitation, he lunged forward again, feeling raindrops begin to fall, one by one, soaking his entire body.
“…”
Meanwhile, Nersarn, who had lost consciousness, slowly opened his eyes to the cold sensation rousing him. The first thing he saw was a massive cloud shaped like a person.
Ah, the gods have come to the desert. Nersarn lifted his head slowly, wanting to fully feel the falling rain.