#157
After the Capital Invasion (1)
As the distance traveled, the embassies from the Enamel Continent, including the Elven Kingdom, left the Rosellia Temple as soon as the conference concluded.
With the cooperation of various shrines, they quickly advanced eastward and reached the forest at the eastern edge of the continent in just one day. Now, they were heading toward the Enamel Continent via the ‘Path of the Forest’ operated by Laforey and Cecily.
“In the end, I was cooped up in the shrine all this time in the Ion Continent, except for the trips between the eastern forest and the shrine. I didn’t come here for a vacation, so I guess that’s natural, but still, it feels a bit…”
Shapiron muttered quietly while walking the forest path with Harris.
Her outfit was quite lighter than when she arrived, as all her belongings were neatly packed in a spatial dimension magical equipment hanging from her wrist.
Seeing her like a child realizing reality was somewhat pitiful, but…
I guess everyone has to grow up this way.
“However, opportunities to meet various people from around the world are quite rare. Besides, all of them hold positions that are normally hard to encounter.”
Rustle rustle—
Harris comforted her in a soft voice, handing her a popcorn bag.
“Hey, I’m not a child! Why do you keep giving me food whenever I say something? I know it was unavoidable!”
Though she expressed dissatisfaction this time about the treatment, she certainly did not refuse the popcorn in her hand.
Walking quietly along the forest path, Shapiron, munching diligently, suddenly turned to him as if recalling something.
“By the way, you haven’t had a chance to look around either, have you? Where did you get that? Did you sneak out alone?”
“Oh! It’s a gift, a gift. You know that big guy friend we met a while ago? Before we parted, he packed this and gave it to me in the spatial dimension magical equipment.”
“Ah… that unique person? At first, I thought you were related to the beastmen. …Huh? If it’s a dragon, that’s not entirely wrong, is it?”
Trying to lightly deflect the awkward topic, she completely got sidetracked again, pondering unnecessarily with her head tilted.
Just then, someone interjected to help her resolve that dilemma.
“No, no! Beastmen and dragons are very different, Miss!”
A beastman approached cheerfully as if he had been listening to their conversation.
He had a mane like a lion and a size nearly that of Harley.
It was Lionell, the lion beastman who held a place during the Undead King’s assault, representing the Wild Land.
“Beastmen are simply those born into that species, while dragons are artificially created beings by the dragons. Of course, artificially created dragons can pass down their blood through breeding, but the roots are totally different.”
He spoke to them amiably, so familiar that it made one doubt whether this was the fierce being who had been ferociously battling during the conference.
“So, what’s that you’re holding in your hand, Miss? It smells delicious!”
…He probably wasn’t approaching because of the food.
Though it seemed he had some ulterior motives.
“Oh, this?”
At his blatant question, Shapiron’s eyes widened, and she thrust the crinkling popcorn bag toward Lionell.
It seemed that Harris’s assumption about her being a glutton was a misunderstanding, as she acted without a hint of hesitation, entirely unbothered by sharing.
“I already ate it all; do you want to smell it?”
“…No, that’s okay, Miss. You don’t have to go that far; I have a good nose.”
He probably had no attachment to an empty bag.
He appeared so taken aback by her boldness that he paused for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing.
“Hmm, anyhow, we owe a lot to the Elven Kingdom. Thanks to your brother, we managed to defeat the Undead King, and now we’re getting help with intercontinental travel, huh?”
“Helping each other out is the right thing to do. But I heard you were pretty hurt during that incident, Lionell. Are you feeling okay now?”
“Huh? Ah! Of course! How long has it been since then? I wouldn’t still be whining about it! Plus, after receiving intensive treatment at the shrine, if I can’t get back on my feet quickly, I wouldn’t be able to call myself a beastman!”
Ah, such was the pride of a beastman, born naturally strong.
“Cough… we should hurry and establish a shrine for the Holy Church Order in Enamel as soon as possible. Did you hear the news? Something huge happened in the capital of the empire.”
“…Yes, the Undead King invaded Jeron.”
But they were already on their way through the forest, so there wasn’t much they could do.
After all, they were here as an embassy, not for battle support, so taking action would be difficult.
“If we could have moved through the gate of the shrine, we could have responded more immediately… In fact, they discussed it three hundred years ago, but it faded away after the Undead King was defeated.”
Of course, among the various races on the Enamel Continent, there were priests who prioritized the Holy God over their own religions, but their religious facilities were capped at large temples.
Naturally, there were not a single shrine that met the minimum requirement to install a gate.
Building a shrine required a lot of resources and many high priests, which meant cooperation at the racial level on the Enamel Continent.
“But, even though we respect the Holy God, it might be awkward for those with established state religions to lend a hand.”
They didn’t actively hinder but would also hesitate to contribute actively to building a shrine.
While the need for it had emerged three hundred years ago, it implied that there hadn’t been much of a need for the next three hundred years.
“Still, everyone showed a positive response at this summit. I think once we return, the leaders of the different races will discuss this privately and make a firm decision.”
If that happens, they could quickly construct the shrine with intercontinental support.
The high elves would probably lead the effort to bring the necessary high priests from the Ion Continent.
“…But it seems I’m just highlighting the need for transportation.”
The high elf candidate Harris had a subtle expression.
Now it was no longer someone else’s business.
At that moment, as the incident unfolded in the Ion Continent, the envoy consisting of various races, including Harris, was strolling through the peaceful forest path without any accidents.
*
In the third central dining room of the Rosellia Temple.
“Krahaha—! I’m starting to feel less hungry! After some intense exercise, my stomach felt quite empty. It’s a bit lacking, but overeating isn’t good, so maybe I’ll just stop here?”
With a satisfied face, stroking his belly, a figure confidently stepped out of the door…
“Indeed, just slapping some seasoning and grilling it should’ve been enough. But the chefs at the temple, as expected, are dedicated to their craft! I’m grateful for the delicious food I had.”
It was Harley, the barbarian warrior who had gone out to support Jeron and returned to the sanctum.
And inside the kitchen he exited, it looked as if a fierce battle had just been fought, with chefs gasping and slumping over.
“…Truly a tough opponent. Today was even tougher than before.”
“Considering he just returned after a fierce fight outside, that probably has an effect.”
“Hehehe, but they can’t beat us. Our third central kitchen is the crème de la crème of the temple.”
“Um, excuse me… Head Chef?”
The head chef, understanding well his sentiment, carefully interrupted his victorious speech.
It was easy to empathize with the head chef’s feelings.
When food made with great effort vanished into the throat in mere seconds, he nearly felt crushed.
However, this was indeed one of the places responsible for temple meals.
Having served hundreds of paladins and knights daily, they had considerable resistance to gluttons.
But that was precisely the problem.
“Dinner time is approaching. If we don’t start preparing right now, we’re already a bit delayed…”
“…Oh right, indeed.”
The meal offered to Harley, a guest who helped the order, was not part of the prior schedule.
This meant their original task… was yet to begin: satisfying the ravenous beasts after a rigorous training session.
“Pfft, I can’t be whining like this. Hurry, hurry! What are you all dawdling for? We are the best of the best, the third central kitchen!”
“Yes! Head Chef!”
They dragged their tired bodies into preparation for a new battle.
Originally, it should’ve been a resting period, but considering their formidable opponent, it was uncertain how many of them would end up collapsing after it was all over…
But even if such things really occurred, there would be no problems.
After all, this place boasted the finest medical facilities on the continent, the Rosellia Temple!
“Ugh— I guess I should’ve eaten a bit more. I’m starting to feel a little peckish already…”
With those determined thoughts, Harley wandered through the corridors of the temple, muttering words that would have caused the chefs to clutch their necks if they had heard.
In truth, he could feast on the vast amounts of meat stocked in the spatial dimension, but food made by a chef was naturally more delicious.
Though others might have judged him as simply shoving food down his throat, his transcendent palate wouldn’t miss even the slightest flavor in that brief moment.
“No, I’ve had enough. I might have eaten more than usual. Even though it’s free, it would be greedy to ask for more here.”
Having consumed considerable energy battling Hans and the army of the undead, he prided himself on being the last remnant of conscience in this age, believing such a consideration was a basic courtesy.
“…By the way, Heinrich still seems to need a bit more time.”
Harley, who had merely gone as a guest support to Jeron, was able to return immediately after the job there was done.
However, Heinrich had to stay behind to oversee the aftermath, which was quite a task for him as the top figure of the church side.
“Moreover, with the matter of deploying troops to the Rohan Principality and this incident, the Jeron Temple was quite short-staffed.”
Yet, the distance between Jeron and the sanctum wasn’t too far, so they still had the energy to send Harley back.
Soon enough, personnel from the Rosellia Temple would depart for there, so Heinrich would likely return soon.
“Anyhow, it seems this matter has been wrapped up for now.”
Since the Undead King’s invasion of the capital…
From the imperial throne to the top brass of the empire, and even down to the alley organizations in the lower strata of society, the futile chaos was wreaking havoc throughout the capital.
In the end, the barrier of the imperial palace had not been destroyed until the last minute, preventing further damage there…
However, many who had faced the Undead King in the knight order, including the master-level knight, the captain of the royal guard, had either died or suffered serious injuries and would need a break for some time.
Simultaneously, the noble houses and other organizations that had been heavily attacked faced similar troubles.
The army of the undead, having been bound to Hans and infused with some of his magic, ruthlessly cleaned up under the partial abilities of the “Eye of the Abyss”, a skill for determining “evil deeds”.
“It seems it would be tough for Olivia to control all of them on her own. Of course, the standards have tightened compared to usual, but that’s just how it is.”
Well, that couldn’t be helped, could it?
If they were dissatisfied, they shouldn’t have engaged in wrongdoing in the first place.
After all, if someone has to make sacrifices, it should be the wicked, which was Hans’s usual belief.
Of course…
He was already aware that he himself was far from ‘good’.
“…By the way, I had thought Isea had stronger bonds with the princess than expected. I anticipated it to some extent, but she was even more proactive than I thought. Plus, now the captured ones need careful management, which is…”
“Oh, Harley? There you are. Can we talk for a moment?”
As he contemplated, a voice suddenly approached him as he headed to the training grounds for some post-meal exercise.
It was one of the people who had recommended him to the special task force, bringing him to this place. The executive director of the mercenary guild, who was replacing the banner of the “Mercenary King.”
