Chapter 736
The Bahila Fiefdom, the battlefield between the Dark Alliance and the Holy Federation.
Here, Legion Commander Yona and the Saint of Miracles were locked in a fierce struggle. The conflict was known as the Sealed Letter Conquest.
Simon was also well-acquainted with the Sealed Letter, having seen it countless times mentioned in historical records.
‘The later half of the Hundred Years’ War revolved around the ownership of the Sealed Letter.’
The Sealed Letter was known as both a relic of an ancient civilization and a devastating tactical weapon. Scholars had confirmed the existence of its final volume.
And among the most promising locations where the relic might be buried was none other than the Bahila Fiefdom.
Thus, the Dark Alliance and the Holy Federation were both racing to occupy the sites most likely to contain the relic, determined not to let the other seize it first. Afterward, excavation operations would begin.
Skirmishes erupted several times a day, raiding each other’s dig sites, obstructing excavation work, stealing positions. This place was no exception.
Simon and Richard entered the encampment where the main force of the Dark Alliance had pitched their camp.
‘Whoa.’
The warfront camp was enormous, stretching far beyond what Simon’s eyes could take in. Neatly arranged army tents extended endlessly, row after row.
Beside them, laborers dug feverishly into the ground, seeking the Sealed Letter.
“Watch it.”
Richard pulled Simon’s shoulder back. A massive undead, an Abomination, shackled at the ankles, thundered past, each step shaking the ground.
“If you don’t want to get crushed to death, keep your wits about you. Some of the undead aren’t under proper control.”
“Ah, yes, sir.”
Indeed, besides the conscripted soldiers and necromancers, countless undead were being deployed. Some were being drawn out of subspace for final checks.
The two avoided the marching undead and arrived at the largest command tent.
[Khhhrh! You’ve returned.]
A familiar voice made Simon’s eyes widen.
‘Feer!’
The tall, cloaked skeleton was none other than the Feer of the past.
He looked just as Simon remembered, yet the aura of Darkness he emitted, the robe, and the variety of weapons he carried marked him as vastly stronger, no doubt thanks to Richard’s prime.
“Too bad your excellent deception didn’t produce results, Feer.”
Richard teased, raising his fist.
Feer bumped it with his own bony knuckles and growled.
[It seems their camp has a brilliant strategist. All our feints and diversions have been countered!]
“Click. Normally priests only rely on their matchups, they aren’t known for brains.”
Feer turned his gaze on Simon.
[And this boy?]
His eye sockets flared. Simon shivered as though pierced through the chest, that gaze seemed to see straight through him.
“The old hag’s watchdog.”
[…]
Feer’s eyes shifted to the hourglass artifact hanging from Simon’s belt.
[Best hurry.]
Tossing the words like a stone, he swept away, cloak flaring. Simon blinked.
‘What did he mean by that? Was he speaking to me? Or…?’
“Anyway!”
Richard slung an arm over Simon’s shoulders.
“Let’s head out, watchdog.”
“…Pardon?”
“You can handle the report to the Commander-in-Chief, right?”
He waved at the subordinates who had followed them. With weary sighs, they trudged toward the commander’s tent, while Richard dragged Simon elsewhere.
“W-where are we going?”
Simon asked nervously.
Richard grinned wickedly.
“Gotta blow off some steam.”
* * *
Riding skeletal horses, they eventually reached a city in the Neutral Zone.
This was territory under the Dark Alliance’s control. Armored soldiers patrolled the streets, and even here excavation of the Sealed Letter was underway.
And the place Richard led Simon to was none other than—
“Drink up!”
“Hahahahaha!”
—an inn.
But not a shabby tavern for old men and cheap beer. This was a lively hotspot, packed and booming with deafening music. Soldiers danced wildly, mugs raised.
“Yona! Welcome, sir!”
“To think our noble commander would grace such a place!”
There was no discipline here. Soldiers slapped Richard high-fives and greeted him casually.
To Simon, who had never seen such a scene, the place looked like a den of pure debauchery. No one cared for propriety; men and women embraced and kissed openly.
“You should drink too!”
Richard handed him a frothing mug.
Simon shook his head furiously.
“I-I can’t! I’m still on duty…!”
“Tch, boring brat.”
Richard shrugged and downed his own mug in one gulp, then spread his arms wide, inhaling deeply.
“The air tastes sweet!”
With a bound, he leapt onto a table where food and beer were spread, slamming down with a bang.
Beer spilled, food scattered, yet the soldiers only roared with laughter and cheers.
“Yona is here!”
“Tonight we feast!”
Richard thrust out his hand flamboyantly. From the stage, one of the bard’s string instruments flew into his grasp.
Jjjjjjjng!
He strummed it.
Not just strummed, he played so well it was dazzling. Rising to his feet, his fingers blurred as he plucked the mandolin.
The crisp, brilliant notes drew every eye in the room. The bards in the back looked on with weary “Here he goes again” expressions.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
The crowd matched the rhythm with claps, drunk with the performance. Richard strutted with the mandolin, sauntering to the bar.
“Tonight, it’s all on me!”
WOOOOOAAAAAHHH!
A deafening cheer erupted, bells ringing in jubilation.
As he tore into the strings in a frenzy, the innkeeper chuckled and placed a drink in front of him.
“Rough day, Yona?”
“You asked well. Today was a dog’s day.”
Jjiiiing!
Finishing the riff, Richard hurled the mandolin into the air. A skeleton, waiting in the wings, caught it smoothly and played the exact same part, note for note.
“The Saint of Miracles! Yes, she’s the problem! Ever since that woman showed up, everything in my once-glorious career has gone downhill!”
He kept grabbing different instruments, playing them, and tossing them into the air. The skeletons caught each one flawlessly, continuing the performance, while the displaced bards were reduced to clapping along like machines with the rest of the audience.
“Now, whenever I appear on the frontlines, the Federation sends her. The moment I catch her, I won’t let her die easily.”
Hahahahahahaha!
A drunken roar burst out. Tossing another instrument noisily behind his back, he swaggered toward the piano.
Then came an extravagantly brilliant piano solo.
His head bobbed violently up and down, hair flying, while gasps of admiration spread from every corner. Some of the women flushed, some licked their lips.
“Raise your glasses, everyone!”
Bang!
He slammed several keys down at once, then leapt onto the piano bench. A skeleton stepped forward and handed him a wine glass.
“To the death of the Saint of Miracles!”
“To her death!”
Everyone echoed back, raising their glasses high. Among them, Simon folded his arms, his mouth dry with bitterness, his expression troubled.
“Again I say, tonight’s on me, so drink and enjoy yourselves!”
Time passed, the atmosphere grew feverish.
The music shifted to a sultry, mellow style. Richard mingled around, laughing, until at last he chose one of the women who approached him.
He slid his hand onto her waist and was about to lead her outside, when—
“Wait!”
Unable to stomach it any longer, Simon stepped in. Richard frowned.
“This goes too far!”
“Hm? What’s gotten into you, boy?”
“My role, entrusted to me by Lady Neftis, is to keep you from straying.”
Simon grasped the hourglass hanging at his neck. Then, with a polite bow to the woman, he said,
“My apologies, but please return.”
“…What the hell.”
Her mood ruined, the woman left. Richard reached out to catch her, but it was already too late.
His savage gaze turned on Simon.
“So, you’re not a watchdog, you’re a shackle.”
“In a wartime situation, when war could break out at any moment, I don’t think it’s right for a Legion Commander to be indulging in pleasures in a place like this.”
“We’re not chess pieces, we’re human! We need some way to relieve stress!”
Their eyes locked in tense opposition.
“We’ll be closing for the night!”
At that precise moment, the innkeeper announced closing time.
Richard scowled and stalked off, Simon following right behind.
‘…To think Father was like this in his youth. What a headache.’
Step, step.
As they walked, Richard turned back with a sly smile.
“If pleasure’s the problem, other things should be fine, right?”
“…What?”
This man, still wasn’t done playing.
* * *
The Holy Federation’s fortress.
“Goddess, grant us the strength to cleanse the wicked today.”
Anna had begun her dawn prayer. Led by her, all the priests gathered in the chapel, hands folded reverently.
‘My legs…’
Lete, who had volunteered to be Anna’s attendant, was getting pins and needles from kneeling so long. Rubbing her thighs with a fist, she grimaced and looked at Anna.
‘I didn’t think Teacher Anna would be this much of a ‘model of righteousness’.’
From morning until the moment she fell asleep, every hour of Anna’s day was packed. She seemed to live for faith alone. She prayed for opening her eyes each morning, prayed for every meal, prayed for countless things.
The priests under her couldn’t lift their heads while their Saint prayed. Reluctantly or not, they were all swept up into prayer with her.
Anna had no hobbies, no private life. To her, there was only Goddess Dave, and faith.
Lete felt her head ache.
‘Sigh, how on earth am I supposed to tie someone like Anna to that playboy Richard?’
The only respite came around lunchtime, after the meal and prayers were finished.
Lete waited for Anna to finish praying, then quickly laid her head on Anna’s lap. Anna smiled gently, not a trace of fatigue, and stroked her hair.
Though this life was hard, such rewards made it bearable. It was so good that Lete found herself grinning like a fool.
Sometimes Israfil would pass by, glaring murderously. Teasing her jealousy had become one of her little amusements.
“Hehe, Teacher Anna.”
“There you go again, I’m not a teacher.”
Anna flushed and stammered.
“I’ve never taught anyone, only learned. That title is too much for me.”
Why get so flustered just for being called teacher?
Lete slyly lifted the veil covering her face, and sure enough, Anna’s cheeks were glowing scarlet.
I just want to squeeze her tight, until the continent crumbles apart.
“I have something I’m curious about.”
But now, it was time to start the real work. She was supposed to meet Simon at midnight tomorrow, and she wanted to achieve some results before then.
“If it’s something I know, I’ll answer anything, Rena.”
“What do you think of men?”
Anna blinked.
“Men are people born male. In scripture, it also refers to a woman’s partner.”
What kind of answer is that…
Startled, Lete jumped up.
“No, not that…! I mean, when you’re walking on the street and you see a handsome man, tall, with an Adam’s apple, veins showing… don’t you feel drawn to him?”
Anna blinked again.
“I don’t really know.”
She looked like someone whose romance instincts had simply evaporated.
From childhood, she had lived in the temple, recognized for her gifts, given rigorous training by archbishops, living only as a devout believer. Through Efnelle she had become a Saint. She knew nothing of romantic relationships.
Lete was left speechless.
‘This is the woman who supposedly did that with that womanizer Richard?’
She shifted tactics. Anna clearly loved children, so perhaps questions about family would work.
“Then, perhaps,” Lete glanced around, checking for Israfil, and blurted, “would you like to have children?”
“Yes!”
Anna’s face lit up with a bright smile.
For the first time, hope flickered.
“I earnestly await the stork bringing me a child. If I’m blessed with one, I’ll thank the Goddess and raise them with all my heart.”
“…Ah.”
Lete covered her forehead in despair.
No matter how she looked at it, whether from this side or the other, the road ahead looked like nothing but hardship.
This is chapter 736 again instead of 737