Once upon a time, in a forest where villages coexisted.
A forest people called Konwi Forest, located within the territory of the Calus Empire but left unmanaged.
There was a fortress there.
It wasn’t particularly famous or well-situated. It was merely a fortress built by two counts to expand their territories, then seized and lost back and forth between them.
The people called it Netchagni Fortress. Netchagni Fortress lay between the territories of Count Werfall and Count Scherlukunde.
And now, countless forces had gathered with their troops at this fortress.
Bathed in the sunlight from behind, they waved banners wildly as they entered the fortress, revealing themselves.
The fortress, not very spacious, couldn’t accommodate all the soldiers, so those who remained set up camp outside, gazing blankly at the fortress interior where their lords and masters conversed.
The season when winter approached.
The chilly winds blowing from Frostwood Valley crept through the gaps in their clothing, causing shivers as the year drew to an end.
Unlike the soldiers, those who held high positions were inside the fortress.
“All present, I see.”
A woman’s voice, rough as if she possessed a rugged temperament. Her voice echoed through the corridor where a massive coal fire burned, pounding into the ears of those present.
Several long tables surrounded the enormous coal fire in the corridor. Those seated stared blankly at the woman.
Considering her status, one might call such gazes rude, but no one pointed it out.
After all, everyone in this room held equal rank to her.
Lady Frida scanned each gaze meeting hers, assessing their names and positions.
First was a dragonkin with white scales and grotesque hands where the scales had peeled off—Baholt Head.
The Chairman of the Senate of Belus Alphen, once the greatest warrior and blacksmith, a man.
He proclaimed the emergence of a priest from his bloodline and accepted Aslan under the name Flame Tongue.
Next to him sat other elders of the dragonkin Heads. In Belus Alphen, where the Heart has disappeared, the Heads are akin to kings, they say.
“Everyone hasn’t arrived yet. Neither the Vida Kingdom nor the Helsing Duchy is here.”
“They’ve already sent messengers saying they’ll be late. For now, we’re all that’s here.”
“I see.”
The dragonkin smiled faintly and leaned back in his chair, while the woman glanced around at the others.
Next, Frida’s gaze fell on Anna Helmenius.
A woman with red hair and green eyes, possessing human peach-colored skin despite having the lineage of Green.
This woman idly flicked her hand, making the coal fire flicker, then noticed someone looking at her and met Frida’s gaze.
“…Why do you look at me like that?”
“I intend to start the meeting early. Is that alright?”
This was someone whose opinion the Mountain King and Great Clan Chief sought. Anna Helmenius was such a person.
In reality, almost every wizard considered her their mentor, and as the mayor of the city where many wizards gather… her status was equivalent to that of a monarch.
Though she sat without any guards, making her seat seem empty, the woman didn’t seem to care. She simply nodded with a gentle smile.
“Let’s do that.”
With permission granted, Frida turned her head to look at the next person.
Among those present, judged solely by position, the highest-ranked individual and the lowest-ranked individual.
One was an emperor, the other a count. Though both were underage rulers, their statuses differed greatly.
Of these, Frida sought the opinion of the girl.
Even though small in stature compared to anyone else in the room, the dignity the girl exuded was undeniable.
Dressed in splendid attire, seated on a high chair brought by a servant.
The girl emperor, Ilyena.
The empress stared at the door with a sorrowful gaze, letting out a sigh that went unheard.
Murmuring in a voice too soft to hear, “Is he not coming?” The young empress subtly turned her head and looked back at Frida.
“Let’s begin.”
She did not seek the count’s opinion, but the count seemed unconcerned.
Considering everyone here outranked him in both status and power, and that this expedition was formed due to his desperate plea for help, it was only natural.
All these individuals had gathered in Netchagni. The thought they harbored could seem fantastical.
A calamity beyond human control, a mythical monster that ended the age of humans and began the age of evil deities.
High priests, hunting the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
They had gathered in this fortress to kill that monster, discussing ways to do so.
Specifically, based on the guidelines Aslan left behind before departing.
The guideline was simple.
Gather forces in Netchagni, set up defensive installations, and place various siege weapons for both attack and defense.
Prepare weapons that might work against martial adepts, then provoke them.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword is what the Supreme Divinity considers the most powerful adept and the ultimate form of nothingness it dreams of achieving.
That it took the shape of a monstrous centipede far removed from human form was unexpected, but that wasn’t particularly important.
What mattered was that the Supreme Divinity rarely draws its sword unless in dire peril.
To draw out the Supreme Divinity’s Sword, they needed to create a crisis.
An attack on the Supreme Divinity’s stronghold sanctuary.
More precisely, feigning an attack and applying pressure to instill a sense of crisis, though either way, the Supreme Divinity would perceive it as an attack.
If the Supreme Divinity believed its sanctuary was in danger, it would have no choice but to wield its most powerful weapon—the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
Aslan’s plan was straightforward and thus had a high chance of success.
The variable was the strength possessed by the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
The meeting began, and they exchanged words.
About deploying which forces where, placing siege equipment, and ensuring supply lines.
At the end of the discussion, Count Scherlukunde spoke with a worried expression.
“Can we really hunt the Supreme Divinity’s Sword?”
All eyes turned toward him, and the shadowy gazes of leaders from various nations swept across the young man’s face.
Under normal circumstances, he might have flinched, but the youth bravely continued speaking.
“The Supreme Divinity’s Sword… Thinking that I shouldn’t know nothing about something I requested, I studied materials on its existence. And I deeply realized my ignorance.”
When Aslan used Equalization right before their eyes and borrowed a sled to leave the city, the youth found mentions of the Supreme Divinity’s Sword in various ancient texts and historical records.
The tales he uncovered were terrifying and hard to believe.
It had once cut down twenty lesser divinities, specifically the warlike children of War and Knowledge.
It slaughtered all manner of sacred beasts associated with hunting and prosperity.
It single-handedly wiped out five of the most powerful cities of an ancient empire.
Until the Veil of Mercy divided the Northern and Southern continents, it roamed and spread fear across the entire continent.
All these stories were not fairy tales or folklore told to children but historical facts.
With an anxious expression unable to fully conceal his unease, the youth spoke.
“A monster from the Mythic Age. It feels impossible for humans to oppose such an entity. Of course… Lord Aslan and his companions are indeed among the strongest veterans in history. All the heroes gathered here today are renowned across the continent. Even so…”
“Are you feeling uneasy?”
“Yes, I am.”
Count Scherlukunde, who lost his father to martial adepts and became a count not long ago, now faced the unprecedented calamity of the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
The statesmen gathered there momentarily felt pity for the young lord but quickly adopted different expressions.
Despite the sympathy and mockery directed at him, the youth continued.
“Our enemy isn’t just the Supreme Divinity’s Sword. Most of the martial adepts residing in the sanctuary will likely join the battle, with the Supreme Divinity’s Sword at the center. There may also be monstrous entities spreading the influence of the Supreme Divinity across the continent. Facing such mythological beings makes me feel… uneasy.”
“What exactly do you want to say?”
“I’d like to understand why such exalted figures, incomparably superior to my humble domain, are here. Then…”
The flow of the young lord’s speech seemed less like genuine curiosity and more like something with another purpose.
Perhaps it was a probing question. However, since there were characters who didn’t care about such things, the young lord’s words were quickly cut off.
The dragonkin who forged armor for Aslan and had his lineage stolen by the Dragon King, Bahamut Head, clicked his tongue and interrupted.
“You don’t need to worry about that. We have our own myths here, don’t we!”
As all eyes turned to him, the dragonkin smirked.
“Aslan Flame Tongue.”
The sudden mention of Aslan’s name caused confusion among those present, prompting Baholt Head to explain.
“He has proven that his heart carries fire, just as the ancient War and Knowledge did when they were still human.”
Spreading his arms wide, the elderly dragonkin’s large frame occupied much space. Though exaggerated, his movements carried a certain elegance.
“War and Knowledge received blessings from fire and metallurgy, defeated Void and Chaos, bathed in the blood of the evil dragon, and ascended to godhood. He, too, is being tempered by the blood of dragons.”
“We stand alongside myth itself.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable. As the audience paused to grasp his intent, he clenched his fist and shook it.
“He is fire. The dragon’s fire that will reshape the world. Thus, we have no need to fear something like the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.”
Frida perceived this as an attempt to boost morale.
“Much appreciated, but we’re not discussing that now. Spiritual encouragement might work on the soldiers, but for us…”
Thus, she said awkwardly, and the dragonkin chuckled upon hearing her words.
“Does this sound like empty rhetoric to you? You scaleless ones sure have it easy, never facing the sudden collapse of your mythologies like we do.”
Frida slightly frowned at the overtly condescending tone.
But it wasn’t because she felt belittled herself.
Rather, she was uncomfortable with someone talking about her family as if they knew all about the mythology, disregarding her longer observations.
She disliked how someone claimed to know Aslan better than her, even though she had observed him for much longer.
Just as she was about to assert that she had thought more and watched longer…
—”It’s a martial adept!”
A shout came from outside the corridor.
The creature, whether a bear or a wolf, that had been snoring at Frida’s feet woke up growling, prompting her to click her tongue and rush out of the corridor.
Amidst the confused voices of the guards and the hurried footsteps, Frida swiftly ran out of the fortress.
The not-so-high fortress wall. Kicking it, she leaped down, activating her magical tattoos as she landed and sprinted forward.
Soldiers gasped and stepped back as some random woman suddenly descended and ran past them, but Frida had no intention of explaining.
Beyond the hastily constructed wooden palisades surrounding the fortress, soldiers were hurriedly arming themselves.
Frida crossed through the soldiers and climbed the makeshift watchtower.
Using her foothold to leap, she jumped onto the erected ladder and bounded onto the roof of the watchtower.
A soldier holding a bow startled and screamed, but the woman paid no attention as she gazed toward the approaching figures on the horizon.
They were martial adepts.
Riding strange locust-like creatures, charging forward were martial adepts.
Priests armed with weapons, frantically chasing after something.
Due to the fine dust raised, it was unclear what they were chasing, but when the woman focused her vision and burned her magical tattoos, the scene became clear.
What the martial adepts were chasing was a sleigh crossing the dirt ground without any horses, deer, or dogs.
The passengers on that sleigh were very familiar faces.
The woman smirked and pulled an axe from her waist.
“Such a troublesome younger brother.”
*
“Take this!”
Thud!
Boom!
“Waaah, it’s shaking!”
A giant arrow, the size of a short spear, flew from the great bow and pierced a martial adept. The recoil from the bow violently shook the sleigh.
The girl barely managed to hold onto the sleigh and screamed in panic, while the smaller red-haired girl burst into laughter.
The two women deflected incoming javelins with axes and spears respectively.
Beyond their giggles and the clangs of metal, the pursuers were martial adepts.
Long spears in hand, riding strange insect-like beasts, these martial adepts had adapted the skills of cavalry.
They were chasing the sleigh, which moved forward without any horses, propelled solely by telekinesis through Qi mastery.
Crack!
When one of them swung a spear and tore apart part of the sleigh, Tiamat shrieked.
“Why did you eat the reindeer, you senile old hag!”
Though usually maintaining a semblance of dignity, her tone was clearly filled with alarm.
The elder’s response, however, remained calm as ever.
“If you hadn’t left such delicious reindeer lying around, you wouldn’t have lost them. Do you know how hard it is to get meat where we live?”
“Like you’d know! You crazy old man!”
As the metallic sounds of maces and bows echoed, several pursuing martial adepts were pierced and fell burning.
Just as it seemed they might escape, the sleigh’s speed gradually decreased.
“Eh, eh…!”
As the fine dust became coarse and the sleigh visibly slowed down, the martial adepts drew closer.
Tiamat shouted hysterically, and Aslan rose from crouching on the sleigh’s floor.
Around the rising Aslan floated feathers.
Hundreds of Steamfalos wing feathers. With the direction of the Qi altered, death surged forth en masse.
“We’ve won.”
Thudthudthudthud!
The bodies of the pursuing martial adept cavalry were pierced by the feathers, thrown off, and scattered.
Passing by the stopped sleigh, countless hoofbeats ceased.
“Trample them, kill them all!”
With the harsh voice of a woman and the passing hooves scattering the dust, numerous horsemen rushed past the group, trampling and impaling the falling martial adepts.
As the horsemen passed, the screaming martial adepts were instantly torn into pieces and fell to the ground.
Seeing this, the distant pursuing martial adepts turned around and retreated.
As the situation calmed down and Aslan dispersed his Qi, someone approached the sleigh.
“You owe me. Damn brat.”
A tall axe in one hand, riding a peculiar beast, the woman approached.
Frida, Aslan’s sister.
