Chapter 308: Counterattack Begins (2)
Leven and Kairon quickly rushed to rescue the vassals who had been caught in the blast. The Strauss Duchy was renowned as the strongest martial family in the Ethriel Kingdom and among the most esteemed family of knights in the Seven Kingdoms. And their reputation was certainly proved.
Despite being swept up in the explosion and buried under debris, the vassals managed to get back on their feet one by one.
"Is everyone alright?" Kairon asked.
"I tucked and rolled."
"How’s that supposed to help if you’re crushed under a rock?"
"Right? How am I even still alive?"
"Guess all those years of grinding in our youth finally paid off."
Kairon let out a subtle sigh of relief as he watched them brushing themselves off. Of course, these folks aren’t exactly amateurs either.
True to its status as a martial household, even the civil servants in the Strauss family were required to undergo basic martial training. These men, too, had received at least foundational combat instruction under Gellard in their youth. The only difference was that the so-called foundational training was based on a martial king’s standard.
It was said that one had to bleed and curse Gellard until they coughed up blood just to earn the right to be called a civil vassal of the Strauss family. Incidentally, Gellard had been quite pleased watching those same candidates curse him through clenched teeth. According to him, only those who could endure that had the right to support the Strauss family. In any case, Kairon was immensely relieved that the situation hadn’t escalated further.
As he frantically tried to bring the aftermath under control, Leven spoke in admiration. "Truly, the realm of a silver knight remains far beyond reach. I thought I might land at least one hit in the end..."
Kairon shook his head. "No. This was my loss. I couldn’t find any way to evade the blow. I simply used brute force."
Both the final upward strike and the follow-up downward slash were techniques Kairon had never seen before. And yet, they didn’t deviate in the slightest from the core principles of Delphiad swordsmanship. They were traditional yet inventive, taking the swordmanship a step beyond.
"Did you create them yourself, my lord?" asked Kairon.
Leven answered sheepishly. "Embarrassing as it is to say... yes."
It was, indeed, embarrassing for him. After all, Overkill wasn’t something the current Leven had created.
Though technically, my future self did... so it’s not exactly a lie.
Kairon spoke again, now in earnest. "At this point, there’s nothing left to contest."
Leven had fully grasped the family’s swordsmanship, and gone so far as to create something new from it. And it was clear he never would’ve reached this level had he stayed in the main estate to train.
Kairon nodded. "It’s clear now that traveling with them was the best thing for you."
"In that case." Leven smiled faintly. "Would it be safe to say I’m free to head off again?"
Kairon smiled in return. "I doubt any of the other vassals would dare protest now."
***
And indeed, none of the vassals raised any objections. However, things didn’t quite go the way Leven had hoped.
"Truly remarkable!"
"A new martial king will soon rise in the Strauss family!"
"Please, roam the world freely and continue honing your sword!"
And then, they placed a literal mountain of paperwork in front of him. "Just finish processing these first."
Leven was stunned. "What... is all this?"
"These are the most basic administrative duties expected of the head of the Strauss family."
Indeed. They had said he could travel, not that he could skip work.
"You’re the patriarch! The head of the house!"
"There’s no such thing as a noble who gallivants across the land while abandoning all responsibility!"
As the vassals scolded him, Leven muttered inwardly. Actually... there is. Up north, in Zestrad.
Still, he’d rather play the role of a proper head than sink to Karnak’s level. So for a while, Leven remained at the main estate, enduring a crash course in house administration while catching up on a daunting backlog of paperwork.
Even so, he didn’t neglect his swordsmanship. He frequently sparred with Kairon and the other knights of the Strauss family. Every knight who faced Leven came away in awe.
"He’s really gotten strong."
"No one among the purple-tier could hope to match him."
"He doesn’t seem far behind even against Sir Kairon."
"How is that possible? Even for someone of Strauss blood..."
Leven smiled to himself when he overheard such evaluations. Well, I’ve been through a lot.
He’d fought against none other than the famed Martial King of Cyphras. Moreover, he traveled with two silver knights. One was a legendary, infamous swordsman who once ended the world, and the other was a warrior renewed across the continent for decades, the head of Search Black.
Compared to those two, Kairon was, relatively speaking, someone Leven could take on. Not that it meant he could actually defeat him, of course.
Leven was catching his breath after the bout when a middle-aged knight stepped forward, looking a little disheartened. "I understand, my lord, why you choose to travel with those companions..."
The man hesitated before continuing, a hint of hurt in his voice. "But surely you don’t have to keep your distance from us entirely, do you?"
In fact, several vassals had recently voiced that at least one or two knights of the Strauss family should accompany the young head. It was only natural to be concerned about the lord of the house wandering alone.
"I understand your disappointment." Leven’s voice took on a rare seriousness. "But before you are vassals, are you not like uncles to me?"
When he was young, he’d followed them around with Emil, even calling some of them uncle.
"If you were by my side, I might lean on you without realizing it. And if I’m to carry the name of this house, that’s a risk I cannot afford to take."
It was a deeply earnest sentiment.
A smile formed on Kairon’s face. "A most admirable mindset. I’ve no doubt, my lord, that you will reach the realm of the martial king."
Of course, that wasn’t the real reason.
How am I supposed to travel with the house knights when Lord Karnak’s around?
Karnak was the kind of person who solved problems in ways no one could have predicted, ways too terrifying to let any familiar face witness.
Come to think of it, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.
The memory of the familiar faces flashed through his mind. Leven’s expression softened into something close to longing.
I wonder how they’re all doing.
***
In northern Eustil Kingdom, in the Zestrad territory, the baron’s manor were bustling as Karnak returned for the first time in a while. Their lord was, without a doubt, someone to be proud of. Not only had he gained fame across the Seven Kingdoms by defeating cultists, now even the empire knew his name.
Thanks to him, the Zestrad family—a third-rate noble house at best—had gained a measure of recognition. With the lord himself returning, how could they not celebrate?
"Slaughter a cow!"
"And a pig, too!"
"Wait, isn’t that overkill? Can we really afford to eat that much livestock?"
"It’s fine. The lord will buy more later."
Perhaps they were just happy about eating meat, rather than the return of their lord. Still, the people were in high spirits. Even the old butler Tafel wasn’t particularly concerned about the killing of livestock. There were always ways to replenish their stock.
"If we end up short, we can just buy more from Devantor, my lord," said Tafel.
"They’re selling?" Karnak asked him.
"They’ll need the money," responded Tafel.
"Why?"
Apparently, the Devantor Viscounty had been embroiled in yet another mess with the inquisitors. Traces of evil energy had been discovered yet again in their lands. This time, it was in the forests along their border. A whole cabin, it seemed, had been embedded with subtle traces of necromancy. Naturally, the Devantor family had claimed ignorance, but given their track record, no one was quick to believe them.
Nearby, Serati clicked her tongue. Ah... so it’s that place.
She had a hunch. It must have been one of the secluded huts Karnak had built for meeting with the four elders of the Twilight Cult.
—Didn’t you say you tried really hard not to get caught this time, Lord Karnak?
—I did. Guess Alius really is competent.
—Competent? He’s got the wrong people being blamed. Is that what you call competence?
Thanks to that little incident, the Devantor family had been swept into yet another backlash and was still dealing with the aftermath. They’d spent a fortune on donations to the Church of the Goddesses and various damage control efforts. As a result, their finances were a mess.
"And now they’ve come to us asking for a loan. What shall we do?" Tafel asked him.
Karnak answered without hesitation. "Lend it to them. It’s not like it’s a lot."
"Are you saying you’ve forgiven them for the past grudge?" Tafel asked him.
"Grudge?" Karnak tilted his head, confused for a moment, then gave a small nod of realization. "Ah, right. We did have some sort of grudge, didn’t we?"
"Y-yes, we did."
"Doesn’t matter. No point clinging to petty grudges forever, right? We should get along with our neighbors."
Tafel gazed at the young lord before him with a strange sense of awe. That phrase—letting go of old grudges—was common enough. But seeing someone actually do it was incredibly rare.
Truly, he’s become a man of great capacity. It was hard to reconcile this magnanimous figure with the boy Karnak had once been. How could someone change this much...?
Well, even if the meaning behind that change was a little different, it was true nonetheless.
—This happened because of me, so I should at least lend them the money, right?
—Wow, you actually said something human for once.
To anyone else, that might’ve sounded absurdly minor to count as a human thing to say—but Serati genuinely meant it. At least he’s aware that it’s his fault now, isn’t he?
It was, by Karnak’s standards, a truly miraculous step forward. After the grand feast, Karnak got to work catching up on the tasks he’d left behind. The administration of Zestrad’s territory was no big deal, but he had plenty of other matters to attend to.
There were Twilight Cult reports to review from Maloka and Demphis, updates from the Altas merchant guild, and so on. Despite being used to paperwork, the days quickly became hectic for Karnak.
Because of that, Diogres grew increasingly anxious. Eventually, unable to wait any longer, he came to find Karnak in secret.
"Lord Karnak." There was only one reason he had come all this way to the northern reaches of the Seven Kingdoms. "You said there were dragon bones here, didn’t you?"
"Ah, that?" Karnak replied casually. "We don’t have them yet, but they’ll be available soon."
"You’re planning to acquire them from elsewhere?" Diogres frowned. "Just tell me where they are. I’ll go and get them myself."
"No need. They’ll be here soon, I said."
"Soon...?" To extract the draconic mana he needed, they would require bones from a dragon at least several dozen meters long. "And how exactly are you planning to bring something like that here?"
***
Serati gave a bitter smile. Soon... right.
Maybe she’d spent too much time around Karnak, because she already had a good guess what he was up to. Well, he is a necromancer, after all.
And not just any necromancer either. He had once been the ultimate, apocalyptic Monarch of Death who nearly destroyed the world. And the material he needed was... dragon bones. Who better to procure bones than a necromancer?
Three more days passed, then Karnak sought out Diogres. "It’s ready. Let’s go."
He summoned not only Diogres, but also Desteran, Serati, and Varos. Together, they set off deep into the forest on the outskirts of Devantor territory. Right. It was Devantor again. Karnak was sorry, sure, but if they got caught, he was fully prepared to pin it on them again.
Regardless, it was there that Diogres finally laid eyes on the thing he had so desperately sought, though, the scene was not quite what he had imagined.
It was a dark night under a pale crescent moon. Four archliches floated high in the night sky, robes billowing as they exuded a sinister aura that made one's skin crawl just to look at them. In their bony hands, each held a massive chain, thick as a grown man’s arm.
And at the end of those four chains—bound, trembling, and glowing faintly under the moonlight—was what they dragged in. With shimmering white scales, silvery eyes, five majestic horns rising from its head, and vast, glimmering wings spread wide with pale membranes, it was a massive white dragon, nearly twenty meters long, being dragged forward in chains.
Its mouth was muzzled, and the creature was unable to utter a single cry. Their wide, terrified eyes darted left and right in panic.
Karnak turned to Diogres, who stood frozen in shock, and offered a bright, cheerful smile. "Just give me a second, I’ll get the bones out for you."
And once again, Serati was left speechless. Uh... yeah. I wasn’t expecting that.
