Aslan and the Kobil approached each other. The Kobil moved slowly but surely, while Aslan sprinted forward with great speed.
The Kobil somehow retrieved the longsword they had dropped at the start and swung it, while Aslan pointed two daggers at the incoming Kobil.
Clang!
Aslan blocked the descending blade of the longsword with the crossed daggers. Despite the incredible strength behind the attack, the daggers only trembled slightly.
KAAANG!
Pushing off with the crossed daggers, Aslan knocked the Kobil back. Though pushed back limply, the Kobil regained their footing and charged again. The ground was sticky with spilled blood.
“Graaaah!”
Slipping on the wet ground, the Kobil’s legs buckled but they didn’t give up. Gripping the sword tightly, they continued to charge and thrust.
With a shower of sparks, the longsword narrowly missed its mark. Aslan kicked the longsword away with one dagger and immediately brought the other down. The feather-like blade severed the Kobil’s wrist, which rolled across the floor. Watching their own lifeblood drain away, the Kobil’s face paled.
Clang!
The sound of steel rang out again. Swinging the bleeding stump wildly to obscure Aslan’s vision, the Kobil attempted another horizontal slash. Blocking this, Aslan shoulder-checked the Kobil, sending them reeling back once more.
Phey watched all this silently from the side.
Even as she watched, Phey couldn’t understand.
This opponent was no match for Aslan.
With Aslan’s skill, they could have killed this foe barehanded.
They didn’t even need to fight seriously.
The Kobil had lost both mobility and armament, and it was too late to stop the bleeding. Left alone, they would die.
Both Aslan and Phey knew this well. Likely, the Kobil knew it too.
Yet Aslan stood there earnestly, blocking attacks with two daggers.
Giving their all in a proper send-off.
Phey couldn’t comprehend it. Aslan’s fighting style wasn’t about quick kills, nor playing with the enemy.
Shaking the small sword in hand up and down, clots of dried blood fell to the floor. It was the blood of the warriors who had guarded the door.
While Phey observed with curiosity and questions, the battle reached its conclusion.
Aslan struck the flat of the blade with a fist. Pushing back the longsword, when the Kobil tried to recover, Aslan’s leg moved.
Thud!
A kick to the back of the knee sent the Kobil sprawling. Sliding through the mud, they reached out a hand.
Aslan held both daggers ready, aimed at the Kobil’s heart.
Reaching out a hand to stop Aslan, extending toward Aslan’s face, Aslan struck the palm away with an elbow.
Thud, Crack!
Striking through with the elbow, the dagger pierced precisely, piercing the heart and breaking several ribs before embedding itself in the chest.
Struggling to maintain their posture, the Kobil finally knelt as Aslan stepped back.
Clatter!
The longsword fell from their hand,
“Cough… ugh…”
A final gush of life poured from their mouth. This was the last.
The Kobil’s blood soaked their breastplate as they fumbled for the dagger embedded in their heart.
Blood flowed ceaselessly from their mouth. Coughing up blood, the Kobil’s eyes widened.
They were dying. The Kobil felt death approaching.
Gasping for breath, struggling to exhale,
Dying without leaving anything behind. Sensing their fate, the Kobil resisted desperately. Struggling to stay conscious, they fought against it.
Thus, the Kobil reached for the fallen longsword with trembling hands.
Until a girl’s bare foot landed on the sword.
Standing over the longsword, the girl faced the Kobil with a fierce expression.
Her indigo eyes showed no emotion. A plant-like stillness, devoid of any living creature’s vitality. The Kobil gasped for breath meeting her gaze.
The soft sound of the short sword being drawn. Stained with blood, this was the sword the girl had already swung many times to take lives.
Unlike the ferocious sword, there was no malice in the girl’s eyes.
The Kobil’s and Phey’s eyes met, and just as Phey was about to stab, Aslan grabbed her wrist.
Turning her indigo eyes, Phey looked at Aslan, who quietly shook his head and gripped the dagger embedded in the Kobil’s chest.
Lowering his stance, kneeling on one knee, Aslan spoke firmly holding the feather-like dagger.
“Though your choice may have been wrong… I know you weren’t evil. I know you acted according to your honor.”
The Kobil couldn’t respond. With their remaining life force, they could only twitch their fingers. Aslan watched their contracting and expanding pupils silently.
“Perhaps… we could have fought side by side.”
“You… unlucky bastard…”
Gurgling laughter escaped the Kobil. The last effort of life wasn’t a curse or resentment but rather quiet acceptance from a fallen warrior. Watching the warrior’s eyes, Aslan pushed the dagger further in.
“Hmm…”
The Kobil’s final breath escaped, their pupils dilated widely then closed. Lowering their head, the Kobil died. The floor turned dark red with flowing blood.
Aslan watched the death for a moment then pulled out the dagger. Wiping it on his thigh, he infused mana into his cloak.
With 200 mana infused, the cloak trembled lightly then gathered all the daggers Aslan had thrown and dropped. Rattling as they came together, the daggers slipped into the cloak’s folds.
Returning the dagger in hand to the cloak, Aslan’s somewhat wistful back was observed silently by Phey, who finally spoke.
“Why did you do that?”
Turning his head, Aslan saw Phey’s face devoid of any usual cheerful expressions, completely blank.
In her doll-like face, Phey spoke.
“I don’t understand.”
“Nai.”
Aslan knew Phey used “Nai” instead of “I” to act like an elf, to appear elf-like.
Meaning these words were entirely Phey’s true feelings, not an act.
“Maybe at the end, they could have planned some hidden means to cause mutual destruction. If they had a fireball scroll, it would have been dangerous.”
Phey’s tone wasn’t her usual cheerful one.
It was cold, strangely reminiscent of Aslan’s tone.
Listening to these words in that tone, Aslan couldn’t help but nod in agreement.
If there had been a fireball scroll, using their last strength to mutter the incantation and explode might have been possible.
“It was unnecessary. Since I was going to kill anyway, it wouldn’t have mattered if I did it.”
Phey was giving a cold rebuke.
Aslan knew where this rebuke originated.
“You didn’t teach me to do things this way, why did you do it?”
Concern.
Worry that Aslan might get hurt.
Aslan, fully aware of this fact, simply looked down at the dead Kobil silently.
The Kobil, kneeling in death, had their eyes closed.
There were no signs of priesthood on their body.
Not even partial signs of priesthood existed.
They were human.
“Still, the end should be given properly.”
Phey closed her mouth and stared silently at Aslan. Meeting her gaze, Aslan continued speaking.
“Surely they said they’d do anything… but hesitation was visible. Among the warriors, there were those partially priestified, but as for the Kobil… not even partial signs, just a human.”
Saying this, Aslan turned his head and Phey followed his gaze to look at the Kobil. The spilled blood was merely dark red.
“If they had become priestified, they could have fought more advantageously. Perhaps the course of the battle might have changed. But they didn’t.”
Suddenly recalling something, Aslan smiled bitterly.
This bitter smile was too internal to be read by Angie or Ereta, but not for Phey.
For Phey’s world contained only Aslan.
“Do you feel kinship?”
At this question from Phey, Aslan opened his mouth slightly then closed it.
He couldn’t say no. Phey knew Aslan well.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
The returning question. Emotion began to rise in Phey’s emotionless elven face.
Aslan smiled faintly looking at his old companion.
“Perhaps… I could have ended up like this.”
Aslan felt kinship with the Kobil.
Not distinguishing means, moving for something only they could do, having good will at the base.
Through the Kobil, Aslan saw a failure he himself might have reached.
Despite many differences, Aslan saw his own reflection in the Kobil.
This fact gave Aslan a bittersweet feeling. It evoked sympathy born from kinship.
Therefore, he engaged seriously and concluded sincerely.
Knowing this could lead to failure due to emotional involvement in such matters, yet he still did it.
This was the human part of Aslan that remained.
Aslan picked up the shield that had fallen from the Kobil.
Likely granted by a priest, the green-scaled shield emitted a sinister light.
Hanging it diagonally at his waist, Aslan returned his gaze to Phey.
Under that emotionless face, worry for Aslan was faintly perceptible, concern that he might lose Aslan.
Aslan reached out and stroked Phey’s head. Her crimson hair scattered lightly in his hand.
“Still, thank you for worrying. You were worried I might get hurt, right?”
Phey blinked. Her large indigo eyes disappeared and reappeared under the eyelids several times.
Phey was very different from ordinary elves.
As far as Aslan knew, Phey was what one might call a sociopath.
“Yeah.”
Phey cared for Aslan.
Worried about Aslan, thinking it would be better if she got hurt instead, she wanted to finish it off.
So she had to explain.
“Because Phey guarded my back, I could fight without hesitation. Thank you.”
Whispering these words, Aslan stroked Phey’s head. The unusually high body temperature of elves was felt under his palm.
Then, emotion slowly rose on Phey’s emotionless face, breaking the mask.
The resulting smile was different from her usual playful one.
A softened smile, lowering the corners of the mouth and eyes. As Phey lowered her eyes with this smile, Aslan softly laughed and withdrew his hand.
“Let’s go back.”
Phey nodded.
*
Leading the dwarves towards the city, the first thing Aslan encountered was a curious look.
Next came murmurs, and finally the warriors’ caution.
Focusing on the sounds amidst the expected reactions, Aslan listened carefully.
“That’s… Kobil? Kobil is dead?”
“Did the dwarves kill him?”
“No, if the dwarves killed him… they’re too calm? Why are they so calm?”
“Who’s that person?”
As people murmured, the warriors looked at Kobil’s corpse with cautious eyes directed at Aslan and the dwarves.
Their gazes contained not only caution but also curiosity.
Too calm for the dwarves to have killed him; they carried the corpse respectfully, without weapons.
Too openly entering for Aslan to have killed him; they were standing silently, waiting for something.
So they didn’t know what to do, only guarding cautiously.
After receiving caution and questions for quite a while, as the crowd gathered, Aslan signaled the dwarves to bring forward a certain corpse.
It was the corpse of the warrior with the most partial priestification.
The corpse wearing familiar medium armor coexisted with non-human traces, confusing the people who looked at it. The murmurs grew louder.
“Look at this warrior! This warrior, representing the clan leader Gobil for lack of honor, was killed by this one!”
Aslan suddenly shouted while the people were looking at the corpse.
Before the people could react to the shout, Aslan continued speaking.
“These dwarves tried their best to hold back the warriors there, but the personal guard of Gobil, including this warrior, were too numerous. They eventually killed Gobil and tried to kill the dwarves too.”
The murmurs spreading among the people were voices doubting Aslan’s words.
Ignoring those voices, Aslan continued.
“When I arrived, everything was already done. I guarded the bodies of the dwarves and Gobil, and swung my sword to stop their conspiracy.”
“Their plot.”
When the people’s gazes turned to the corpses, the corpses with torn or broken armor prominently showed traces of priests amidst human traces.
Those who didn’t know these were traces of priests were confused.
“These are henchmen of the priests, and their plan was to hand the city over to the priests. To make this place a city of the poison-spitting dragon!”
The dwarves were moving to stop this. As the additional explanation caused the people to murmur, Aslan looked for Dorel among the bustling crowd.
Dorel was approaching supported by Tiamat.
Right beside them were Angie and Ereta.
The simple plan Aslan had explained to the group was this:
Phey would remain in the city and subdue the personal guards of Gobil guarding the gate immediately after Gobil headed to the tunnel, then open the gate.
After the group entered the city, they would deal with Gobil’s remnants, and Aslan would subdue Gobil.
If everyone fulfilled their role, there would be no problems with this simple plan.
Since there was nothing in this group’s power that could cause issues, Aslan realized through their unscathed appearances that the remnants had been completely subdued.
Without hesitation, Aslan continued speaking.
“But before dying, Gobil negotiated with the dwarves. Gobil and the dwarves reached an agreement!”
At Aslan’s nod, a dwarf with arms burned raw stepped forward and dropped the bundle he had been holding.
What spilled out were iron ores.
Recognizing the quality ores, blacksmiths in the crowd exclaimed, prompting Aslan to speak.
“The dwarves, moved by Gobil’s intentions, surrendered the land they lived on. That land contains an ancient empire’s city, and a massive iron mine surrounding the entire city!”
As the murmurs of the crowd shifted from unease to another direction, Aslan smirked slightly.
“The only condition they offer is one: accept them as allies and allow them to live in this city! Will you accept them as allies?”
At this, people exchanged opinions. Even the warriors exchanged glances or voiced their thoughts directly. However, no consensus was reached.
The problem was simple. There was no clan leader.
Without a concluding clan leader, they merely passed responsibility to each other.
That’s when Dorel parted the crowd and stepped forward.
“As Remul’s son, Gobil’s brother, and the newly appointed acting clan leader, I, Dorel, will accept this offer.”
Dorel spoke with a cracked voice and a swollen face from beatings. Though his voice was hoarse and cracked, no one mocked him. The acting clan leader, limping and supported, continued speaking.
“The wicked henchmen of the priests infiltrated the city intending to kill Remul’s sons and steal the land of the most honorable ones in the mountains! Their plan was to seize the city when Remul’s sons were dead and the city was empty!”
As people looked at Dorel upon hearing this, he freed himself from support and stood on his own legs.
“I almost died from their schemes, but fortunately, the righteous companions of Aslan saved me, allowing me to survive. As the acting clan leader, I will not tolerate such threats!”
Declaring this boldly, Dorel extended his hand, causing the dwarf with the burned arms to exclaim in surprise.
“I will accept the dwarves who protected my brother even from the great threat of the priesthood as allies!”
Saying this, Dorel’s swollen face was filled with sorrow. A sorrow only Aslan, with keen observation, could notice.
He mourned that his elder brother had crossed a line he shouldn’t have.
Aslan silently looked at Dorel, who glanced at Aslan and tried to hide his regret.
“Anyone who objects or has the honor and achievements worthy of a clan leader, step forward and contradict me!”
This bold declaration carried an unusual authority despite his limping and bleeding figure. Resolve filled the extended hand, and dignity filled the nearly invisible wall-eye.
Perhaps because of this, no one stepped forward or spoke. In the sudden oppressive silence, Dorel looked around then approached the dwarves. Limping closer, the dwarf nodded then opened his arms.
“Friend…”
As Dorel embraced the dwarf, the dwarf muttered. This muttering was extraordinarily clear amid the thick silence.
As people exchanged various emotions by looking at each other, Aslan silently observed the scene.
Good intentions don’t always produce good results, but Aslan hoped this time they would.
Thinking this while looking at the dwarf and Dorel, a large message appeared before Aslan’s eyes.
[Completed Sub-Quest]
[! Support the Election of the Dishonorable Clan Leader]
[Ongoing Main Quest]
[! Form an Alliance with the Varmanz]
Looking at these two quests, Aslan sighed deeply.
It was time to return.
