“A spirit horse?”
Yuri chuckled.
“A spirit horse? Like a mountain ginseng hunter? What’s that all about?”
Moyongchan raised an eyebrow.
“Are you crazy, Nomi?”
“Your pronunciation’s messed up again.”
“I’m just realizing you’re someone who doesn’t need to care about Barme.”
“Master would say, ‘When you reach spirit horse level, you say you’ve seen the spirit, not just the horse!’”
“I don’t have anything like a spirit horse.”
“Why not?”
“Because I haven’t mastered any supernatural martial arts.”
“But our ancestors created it. How is that abnormal?”
“Because it’s impossible to control. You can try to grab it like the wind, but it won’t be caught.”
“How can you be so sure whether it can be controlled or not?”
“You gotta eat some dung or something to know.”
“What’s dung?”
“From the West, you wouldn’t know. Um…”
“Is it something you eat?”
“Yeah.”
Yuri stood up and brushed the grass off his clothes.
He recalled the moment before falling into the spirit horse trance.
“I was sparring with Bernard and then just lay down and fell asleep here.”
“Yeah.”
“Spirit horse? I was just sleeping.”
“Does a guy like you just sleep and radiate energy?”
“Was that so? Maybe I was training in my sleep.”
“Yuri Briole.”
Moyongchan placed a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. Yuri felt the heat radiating from it.
“You probably won’t listen to me anyway.”
“You mean about not holding the sword?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course I won’t listen.”
“But try to restrain yourself from using that power.”
“Thanks to that, I caught Yalta.”
“Soon enough, you’ll catch yourself too.”
Yuri shrugged and nodded.
“Yes. I’ll keep your concerns in mind.”
He had no intention of ignoring Moyongchan’s advice. The man was an experienced warrior, a master who had reached the Ten Strong. He knew best about the martial arts of the Celestial Demon that Erich Briole had studied.
Yuri himself felt the dream he’d just had was strange.
It was vivid to an extreme, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wake up. The content was so sweet that he wanted to keep sleeping.
Yuri laid his fingertips on the pommel of Guilty.
If it weren’t for this sword, he might never have woken from that dream.
“Yeah.”
Moyongchan patted his shoulder.
“It won’t be easy. No one has ever overcome the spirit horse.”
Yuri looked at him.
Moyongchan smiled faintly, but his eyes were serious.
“Not even the Celestial Demon.”
With that, Moyongchan turned away.
Watching his retreating figure, Yuri scratched his head.
“Spirit horse…”
Though he’d kept a light tone, Yuri knew deep down he couldn’t take this lightly.
If he had the same dream the next time he fell asleep, would he be able to wake safely?
He wasn’t sure.
Yuri tapped Guilty.
“Isn’t that something everyone has?”
Whether by chance or not, as if answering him, Guilty gave a clear, ringing sound.
Starting a war isn’t as easy as just saying so.
You need a proper justification.
But if the whole country is swept up in madness, and the people drunk on dark magic cry out for revenge every day, it becomes easier.
The Empire was showing signs of unrest.
Everyone sensed something was about to happen.
It was just a matter of when and where.
Neighboring countries kept sending envoys to appease the Empire, and Yohaim was working tirelessly to fortify the Alloy Mountains.
“The Holy Kingdom seems to have a smooth succession.”
Fiore said.
Yuri, standing beside him, asked, “Why do you say that?”
“The person sending the replies has changed. To Larson.”
“That guy?”
“He’ll be king soon. Probably handing over necessary matters before then.”
Fiore folded the letter.
“He seems to be doing well enough.”
Yuri nodded.
Though she didn’t trust him much herself, it seemed he had capable subordinates.
Whether by virtue or bloodline, that was a kind of ability.
“What about us? Do we have good ministers?”
“The foreign minister is working hard, isn’t he?”
“That’s true.”
“Well, later on, we might not even need them.”
When Cedric becomes king, he probably won’t need wise ministers.
He could do anything he wanted.
He said he was interested in history now, so maybe soon he’d surprise the academic world with a paper.
Yuri smiled, imagining Briole under Cedric’s rule.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because I’m looking forward to the future.”
“War?”
“No. The peace after.”
“Will that time come?”
“It has to.”
“Here.”
Yuri read the letter Fiore handed her.
Though he probably didn’t write it himself, the handwriting looked like his—somewhat sloppy.
Yuri suddenly thought of Sibylla.
She had joined the Temple Knights but hadn’t sent any news. It seemed Larson was giving her a hard time.
Even now, with the succession assured, their relationship must have deepened into a rift.
Yuri asked suddenly, “If the Empire moves, will the Holy Knights of the Holy Kingdom move too?”
“Who knows.”
“Have you met the Holy Knights?”
“Yes.”
“How are they?”
“Capable.”
“Have you fought them?”
“Once, long ago.”
One of the Ten Strong was in the Holy Kingdom too—a paladin called the Holy Knight.
He devoted himself to faith in the temple and rarely appeared unless something serious happened.
In his past life, he didn’t fully engage in war.
He came late, but then disappeared from the news—probably defeated by other strong Ten Strong in the Empire.
“Are you close?”
“No.”
“Can you make them move?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm…”
Yuri hoped he would act soon.
To get the Holy Knights moving, she might have to visit the Holy Kingdom herself.
That would be the fastest way.
“Don’t rush.”
Fiore seemed to read her mind.
“Forcing things can make you lose what you already hold.”
“Yes.”
Yuri nodded. Still, there was no time to waste.
For now, they had to strengthen alliances with other nations to counter the Empire.
Though unspoken, everyone was anxious. And everyone agreed they had to stand against the Empire.
If even the Holy Knights joined, the war could unfold very differently from her past life. They might stop the Empire’s rampage early on.
They had to chip away at the Empire’s strength by cooperating with other countries as much as possible.
“Hmm…”
Yuri tilted her head.
“Father.”
“Hmm?”
“I have a question.”
“What is it?”
The Empire was strong.
One reason was that about half of the Ten Strong belonged to or were friendly with the Empire.
If they could separate them, things would be easier.
With Yalta dead, there were now four left.
If they could reduce that number by one more, it would be much simpler.
“Are you close with that ogre?”
“No.”
The Ten Strong weren’t all human.
There was Gert, the Death Knight; Inariel, the elf; Kruar, the dragon; and another non-human who held a seat.
“You sound close, calling his name.”
“We just fought once a long time ago.”
“Uh…”
“Why?”
“I was wondering if we could somehow bring that simple-minded ogre to Briole.”
“No way.”
“Why not?”
“Donchichi…”
What Fiore said next surprised Yuri.
“He’s loyal.”
“Excuse me?”
She hadn’t expected the word ‘loyalty.’
Fiore continued.
“Donchichi once received help from the Empire long ago. The imperial family granted him the northern forest and even pardoned his crimes in exchange for his loyalty.”
“Wow…”
“Donchichi never forgot the Emperor’s grace.”
“I didn’t know he was such a noble ogre.”
“He’s slow-witted, but in terms of unchanging loyalty, he might be better than most humans.”
“I see.”
Yuri nodded.
She understood that persuading him would be difficult.
“I’ll pray we don’t meet the loyal ogre Donchichi on the battlefield.”
In her past life, Donchichi was mobilized but rarely took the front lines. He mostly waited in the rear.
But when he did act, he caused massive destruction.
He single-handedly crushed armies and tore up the surroundings with his monstrous strength.
He was reckless when angry, destroying everything without care, so even the Empire had to be cautious when using him.
“I understand for now.”
Donchichi stood on damp earth.
The cool sensation beneath his thick footpads felt good.
“Krurr…”
He shifted sideways, leaving footprints in the mud. As he continued marking the ground, he found himself deep in the forest.
Donchichi inhaled.
The forest’s scent filled his lungs.
With a single breath, he could sense everything happening in the forest, every presence and location.
He furrowed his brow.
Something was approaching.
He didn’t welcome it.
Trying to avoid the encounter, he moved deeper into the woods, but suddenly another scent brushed his nose.
Donchichi stopped.
“Krurr…”
He felt he should turn back.
Reluctantly, he headed toward the forest’s edge. Along the way, he grabbed a small apple tree and uprooted it with one hand.
Clutching the tree in his hand, he strode forward with long, purposeful steps.
There stood the being he served.
“Long time no see,” the figure said.
Donchichi looked down at the man, recalling the formal greeting he had learned long ago. After a moment’s hesitation, he knelt on one knee, attempting to mimic the gesture.
“Your Highness, the Crown Prince, I pay my respects.”
The ogre’s vocal organs could imitate human speech to some extent—not perfectly clear, but enough for basic communication.
“Yes, Donchichi. Loyal servant of the royal household.”
Before him stood the emperor’s heir, Eugen.
Donchichi stared intently at Eugen, then spoke again.
“The scent… it’s… unpleasant.”
“The scent? I’m wearing the finest perfume.”
“What you brought… is dangerous.”
“Oh? You’re already sensing it? Is it because you’re a Sibgang, or is it just the nature of ogres?”
“I am a special ogre.”
“I see.”
Behind Eugen, a group of knights stood silently, their faces unreadable even as they faced Donchichi.
“Bring it here.”
Eugen waved his hand, and one of the knights stepped forward, handing over something wrapped in silk.
Eugen spoke again.
“Donchichi, I have a task for you.”
“I am loyal to the emperor. I will do what I can.”
“It’s not difficult.”
Eugen smiled.
“You just need to stand still.”
Then, Eugen pulled back the silk wrapping to reveal the object inside.
Donchichi took a step back.
Being larger than a human, even a single step from the ogre caused the ground to tremble.
“That… dangerous. Dangerous.”
“Look.”
“I don’t want to see it.”
“Donchichi, loyal ogre, this is an order. Stand still.”
Eugen stepped forward, extending the object in his hand.
“Look closely.”
Inside was a piece of parchment.
From Eugen’s hand, dark energy began to swirl and rise in thick tendrils.
“Grrr…”
Donchichi covered his eyes with both hands, but Eugen forced him to remove them.
Though he might have resisted, Donchichi did not.
The small human held the parchment up to him, and the ogre could only endure helplessly.
Eventually, he was forced to look at the parchment up close.
Donchichi groaned like a beast.
“Grrrr…”
His eyes clouded over, and he collapsed to the ground. But Eugen did not stop; he pressed the parchment closer to Donchichi’s face.
Eugen said,
“We’ll send this one out first to cause chaos. Isn’t that right? Who needs justification? Just say a beast went on a rampage.”
Eugen laughed.
Despite the unfolding scene, the knights behind him remained unmoved.
Their eyes were shrouded in darkness, the whites stained black, and black veins snaked across their necks.
The ogre’s low growl echoed through the forest, shaking the trees.