Chapter 9
Chapter 9
SEVERAL DAYS had passed at Castle Getaeus since Geo and the others had left to inspect the domain. (This was only a few hours before Sasara met up with Geo).
Clara Andell was enjoying a cup of tea in her private chambers. The oldest of the Four Dark Elf Sisters, Argha, was serving her with the greatest respect.
“I’m honestly blown away by the dwarves and their craftsmanship! I never dreamed they could finish repairing the castle wall in such a short time,” Clara said.
The group of twenty Dauron dwarves had completely finished repairing the castle wall damaged by Structural Renovation only yesterday. Serving as the vice-regent, Clara finalized the contracts with Valbo and paid the construction fees on behalf of Geo, the lord of the castle.
It would reflect poorly on the castle if she allowed them to leave the moment work was done, so she threw a banquet that night to celebrate a job well done. It was no easy feat to entertain twenty heavy-drinking dwarves with bottomless pits for stomachs, but she managed to pull it off with the help of Mora, all of the staff who served under her, and the dark elves. Clara herself played the role of the lady of the castle flawlessly.
“Indeed, madam, their hearty appetites surprised me more than anything,” Argha confessed.
The dark elves still insisted on referring to Clara as “madam.” It was obvious she was neither legally nor emotionally bound in union with Geo. They could see and comprehend that the two weren’t married. Perhaps they chose this title for Clara out of the fear and respect she earned from them. She acted boldly as the vice-regent and freely spoke her mind as if an equal of their Olry. If they were compelled to serve him, then it was only natural that they serve her in turn.
“Madam!” A piercing voice bordering on a scream brought Clara’s leisurely time to an end. The youngest of the dark elves, Sasara, flew into the room.
“What happened?”
“So, I was keeping watch, yes? And then I saw a huge group of armored soldiers making their way toward us!”
“……?!”
The two primary powers in this region—Relis City and the Order of the Calbanera Knights—acknowledged Geo as the lord of Castle Getaeus and the surrounding territory. For an unidentified battalion to approach their castle without sending word beforehand, something was clearly amiss. It wouldn’t be the least bit surprising if they launched an attack on the castle!
The elegant smile of a noblewoman vanished from Clara’s lips, replaced by the cold frown of a sorceress. “Give me a detailed report.”
“Th-there were approximately thirty soldiers. The insignia on their standard was of a bird I have never seen. Also, they will reach the castle within half an hour!” Although Sasara was the least mature of the four sisters, she was still of the “saboteur” Haiklus tribe. The dark elf quickly and concisely delivered all of the key information.
Clara mentally reviewed the hands available to her in the castle. There was Mora, Sam and his wife, Anna, the carpenter Zek, the Four Dark Elf Sisters, and the three former Mage Knight cadets. This was hardly a group capable of defending against an army.
“…Argha, gather everyone into the courtyard. Sasara and Racil, keep watch on the approaching troops… It won’t be easy, but I’m counting on you.”
“Understood, madam!” the four replied in unison.
***
“We still do not know who these troops are. It is possible they are our allies. However, I would like the dwarves to wait with Mora and the others in the main tower just in case the worse should come to pass,” Clara informed the group gathered in the courtyard.
The main tower was the sturdiest structure in the castle. The first-floor entrance was a good two meters off the ground. If they burned the wooden staircase leading up to it, they could hold out for a surprisingly long time, despite their small numbers.
“I will see what has brought them here. Gilma, serve as my escort.”
“Yes, madam,” replied the third-youngest dark elf with a respectful salute, but not everyone was willing to accept her instructions so complacently.
“I-I will help, too!”
“We’re capable of fighting, you know!”
“Would y’care for us to lend a hand?”
Mora, Log, and the dwarf Valbo offered their help one after another, only for Clara to shake her head. “We are looking at thirty fully armed soldiers… That said, this castle won’t fall easily if they lack siege weapons. I will try to negotiate with them first. After that, if we’re left with no choice but to fight…I will need to ask all of you for assistance.”
“…F-fair enough,” Log conceded.
“Good thing we got done mending them walls afore they came…” Valbo muttered.
With a nod, the boy and the dwarf set out for the main hall in the main tower. Just as Clara started to head toward one of the guard towers at the main gate with the dark elf in tow…
“…Clara!”
“Wh-what is it?”
Mora grasped Clara’s hand from behind so tightly it felt as if she were clinging for dear life. The young lady could feel the sorceress’s hand quivering in her own. As if trying to quell the trembling, she held Clara’s hand in both of hers as she pulled it toward her bosom.
“I-It will be all right! There must be some sort of mistake… E-even if they are bad people…I know Mister Geo will come back soon!”
“…You’re right. I’m sure he will pull through somehow,” Clara replied gently, her free hand resting reassuringly on Mora’s head.
***
“Madam! They will be here any minute now,” Sasara reported upon her return.
Clara stood gazing out from atop the guard tower. “They have abhorrent taste, don’t they?”
“Indeed.”
Although Castle Getaeus was located atop a mountain, the trees surrounding the castle had been cut down to create a narrow strip of flat land that would preclude any ambushes by the enemy. There was also a small, open area in front of the main gate. Soldiers clad in heavy armor bearing a variety of weapons poured into that small field.
Heavy armor. This was by no means merely durable plate mail. Sharp horns and blades protruded from their garish armor, primarily painted red. Even their helms and masks were not spared this daemonic craftsmanship. Raised to appreciate the subtle, refined art favored among Relis nobility, Clara couldn’t even begin to understand the soldiers’ sense of taste. Standing at her side, Gilma expressed her agreement with a blank face.
“What noble house do you suppose they hail from?” Clara asked.
Once the two armored columns completed their march up the mountain trail, they stood at attention across the field; a crimson standard whipped in the air at the front of their ranks. The coat of arms depicted a brilliantly colored bird in a threatening pose, both its wings spread wide. As expected of the niece of a duke, Clara not only knew all the landed gentry in the Ryuse Alliance, but was also familiar with all of the knights and nobility in the Kingdom of Shrendal. Yet even she couldn’t place that insignia.
“Some kind of mythical bird? …I could swear I recognize those brightly colored wings and tail from somewhere… Ah!”
A scene flashed across Clara’s mind from ten years ago. It was during the battle against the daemons that would later become known as the War of Loss. A conflict that had turned the entire Ryuse region into a battlefield. When Relis City’s outer wall was besieged by daemon forces, the battle flag fluttering alongside the Calbanera Knights’ and city guard’s banners had belonged to…
“That is the warrior clan’s crest!” Clara cried.
***
The warrior clan boasted a long history, dating back five hundred years to when it was said that the first daemon brood took place. Closer to legend than actual history, the tale held that a mighty warrior heralded as a “hero” had prevented the annihilation of humankind.
The actual truth regarding this “hero” was uncertain, but it was generally accepted that he’d vanished after the brood ended. The subordinates he’d left behind—the divine warriors—passed down their duty to fight daemons for all eternity across the generations. Their descendants referred to themselves as the “warrior clan.”
While the truth behind their origin story was lost to antiquity, there was no denying the fact that they continued to fight daemons to this very day. Clara herself vividly remembered witnessing members of the warrior clan fight to protect Relis ten years ago.
Highly wary of daemonists, members of the warrior clan rarely revealed their heritage. As a result, it was nigh impossible to recognize someone as part of the warrior clan when they weren’t actively fighting daemons.
“…That is the extent of what I know about the warrior clan,” Clara said, concluding her explanation for the two dark elves. She watched a warrior march toward the main gate with the standard-bearer in tow, the flag held high.
“I always assumed the warrior clan was just a fairy tale… But if that is who they are, shouldn’t we get along with them?” Sasara sounded relieved.
“It’s too soon to say,” Gilma answered, dashing her hopes. Clara nodded in agreement.
Under their watchful gazes, the warrior and standard-bearer came about ten meters from the main gate before halting.
“…He’s massive…!”
“Is that really a human? Not a daemon?”
It was only natural for Sasara and Gilma to sound surprised. The warrior was a giant of a man towering more than two meters tall. Unlike Gillion of the Calbanera Knights, he was not heavyset. Even covered by grotesque armor and a helmet inlaid with horns and blades, it was easy to imagine the muscular body beneath. A mask carved like a daemon hid his face, making it impossible to offer any evaluation on that account.
“I am Lade, a warchief of the warrior clan. I request an audience with Lord Geo Margilus.” The massive warrior spoke with a deep, resonant voice.
“Lade? Correct me if I’m wrong, but Lade’s the infamous Daemon Killer…isn’t he?” Sasara asked Gilma.
“But we don’t know for sure if he is indeed Lade the Daemon Killer,” Gilma replied.
Ignoring the exchange between the Four Dark Elf Sisters, Clara brought herself to the edge of the guard tower. “I am his vicegerent, Clara Andell. Warrior of the warrior clan, take heed! Coming unannounced is an egregious breach of etiquette! Yet if you withdraw your men and send a messenger first, we will not hold it against you!” Clara spoke her pronouncement with staff in hand, sending a small ripple of murmurs through the ranks of warriors behind the one who identified himself as Lade.
While Clara criticized the warrior clan for their unacceptable behavior, she was also willing to compromise with them. The warriors endured condemnation on a regular basis, but they were unaccustomed to compromise. Nevertheless, Warchief Lade was undeterred. “I apologize for the breach of etiquette, but we have our reasons.”
“And what might they be?”
“Margilus is under suspicion of being a daemon or a daemonist. I must meet with him to confirm one way or the other,” Lade explained, making Clara’s perfectly shaped eyebrows rise in fury.
“You couldn’t be more gravely mistaken! Lord Margilus is the hero who destroyed a daemon nest in these lands and defeated a daemonist in Relis City!” Clara’s voice erupted like a volcano. Her rage simmered palpably as she scowled down at the warriors. It was such a piercing outcry that the two dark elves at her side flinched. But the target of Clara’s tongue-lashing—Warchief Lade—didn’t so much as move a muscle.
“I can determine whether or not he is a daemon or a daemonist simply by meeting him personally. If you claim he is innocent, I would appreciate your compliance.”
“Insolent fool! Is that any way to make a request?! If you truly wish for us to comply, first order that offensive group behind you to fall back!” It was as if Clara was loosing fire arrows with her sharp tongue, but they bounced off Lade as easily as if he were a boulder.
A moment of silence passed. Clara turned toward Sasara, who was holding her breath in suspense, before gesturing to her with a slight flick of the wrist.
“…I understand, madam! I will bring the master back immediately!” Sasara promised.
***
Utilizing her extraordinary stealth and stamina, the dark-skinned young woman raced down the sheer cliff that surrounded Castle Getaeus. The same time as she fled the castle, there was also movement among the warriors waiting behind Lade. A warrior clad in unusual garments of his own appeared behind the one in the most flamboyantly decorated armor.
“Well?”
“A single dark elf is heading west. My partner is following her,” he said.
“Excellent. I suspect she is headed straight for Margilus. Do not intervene if he decides to return. If he shows signs of fleeing, inform me at once. No matter what, do not lose this trail.”
“Yes, sir!”
The eyes were abnormally large on the mask donned by the lightly equipped warrior bowing before the one in flashy armor. Masks such as this were unique to the warrior clan’s scouts known as the Eyes and Eyes. While it was difficult for normal humans simply to perceive dark elves, they could find one trying to conceal her movement and even track her.
Boasting a six-eyed insignia on either spaulder and quill feathers across his back, the warrior in ostentatious armor spoke his orders. “Fetch the warchief. We shall wait on standby until the next report.”
“As you command!”
“…Geo Margilus, the ‘magic user,’ huh? He means to form an anti-daemon alliance?” Crossing his arms over his chest, the warrior reflected on the information he’d gathered about Margilus along the way. Unlike the rumors in other cities, the word on the streets of his turf in Relis City would be worth taking into consideration. Eight out of ten people hailed him as a hero, while the remaining two condemned him a charlatan. Out of all the information he’d obtained, the main thing that stood out to him was how Geo had declared his intent to fight daemons and formed an alliance with Relis.
Boasting immense power and renown, Geo stood as a leader in the fight against daemons. He just might be the ally the warrior clan had long sought across their solitary battle of five hundred years… However, the oracle, who was like a mother in the hearts of all their clan, had prophesied that Geo Margilus was the Epicenter.
“This trial won’t be easy for me.” Would Geo prove to be the warrior clan’s enemy? Or would he be their hope? The weight of his responsibility as the man tasked with passing judgment pressed down so heavily, he couldn’t help but sigh.
This warrior’s name was Canberils. As the war master, he ranked higher than any other warrior present.
***
It was common to threaten naughty children in Sedia with phrases like “Daemons will gobble up bad girls and boys” or “The warrior clan will slay children who stay up all night.” Without any large-scale daemon attacks for the past decade, and only the rare daemonist sighting, the area surrounding Lake Ryuse was no exception.
No one knew the exact location of the warrior clan’s stronghold, nor the precise size of the clan. However, it was common knowledge that not only was the prowess of each and every warrior on par with a legion of lesser men, but they also utilized unique artifacts to sniff out and hunt daemons and daemonists.
If that was all, they might have been revered as the guardians of humanity. Unfortunately, though the common folk hoped for a world without daemons, they viewed the warrior clan with fear and trepidation. They were the harbingers of misfortune. No sooner were they seen than they would publicly or privately expose a hidden daemonist and mercilessly strike down their prey. Some of the warrior clan realized this resentment was the price they paid for taking their duty—destroy all daemons, and everything associated with them—to the greatest extremes. Ultimately, they could not help but look down upon the world they were meant to protect.
***
“Any response from the Daemon’s Sight?”
“None as of yet.”
After proposing a temporary halt in negotiations with the lady vice-regent, Lade rejoined the other warriors. Ignoring Canberils, he threw the question at one of the other men.
The target of his question was the only man in their ranks garbed in a red robe. A crystal ball the size of a child’s fist rested in his hand. Serving as a mystic for the warrior clan, he was known by the name Cuisle.
Upon closer inspection, Lade could see a dark red shape sealed in the center of the crystal ball. Known as the “Daemon’s Sight,” this secret conduit handed down within the warrior clan was capable of locating daemons and recognizing those influenced by them. The object sealed inside of the crystal was daemon blood.
“Warchief, the Daemon’s Sight may be able to locate daemons and nests, but recognizing a daemonist without coming into direct contact is beyond even its power.”
“…Hmph,” Lade snorted, giving a brisk nod at Cuisle’s dry explanation.
“The oracle’s prophecy means we must proceed with the utmost care. If Margilus proves to be nothing more than a liar…or, against all odds, he truly is a magic user, we have no contention with him. However, if the Daemon’s Sight should happen to react to him…” Hidden beneath the imposing habiliments of his heavy armor, Canberils’s Adam’s apple jumped up in a gulp. “…Then it would mean he is the Epicenter for the next brood after all. We would have to defeat him before it’s too late, even if it costs us all our lives.”