Chapter 826: Knot (13)
The private military company, Deadrise’s 4th Corps.
A military unit established to circulate through the Eastern Continent, intervening in various disturbances to gain profit.
Lieutenant General Mirva Neosoto, who leads the 4th Corps, is a commander who rose to the position of Corps Commander through countless real-world battles.
Excluding Daymus of the 7th Corps, she is a veteran unmatched in command ability among the generals operating in the field.
A former retired soldier who led her own warlord faction before being recruited by Deadrise, she is one of the few talents among the generals granted independent judgment authority.
Her presence in Yorta now was undoubtedly the result of her mobilizing her army and stationing them before the Headrain River as soon as she heard the Memorial Tower had collapsed.
By pressing the chaotic Military Spirit City, sending in her troops, and seizing Yorta’s core infrastructure, she would have no difficulty swallowing the city whole.
Even if she failed, she’d break even, and if she succeeded, she’d effortlessly gain control of one of the Eastern Continent’s largest city-states.
She thought she had swiftly moved to gain a favorable position before other rivals on the Central Front could react to the news—
[Mirva~ Ah, it is Mirva, isn’t it?]
She had never even imagined that a Deadrise general, like herself, would be in Yorta.
Let alone being captured alive by some sorcerer from Pandemonium and brazenly displaying such a disgraceful spectacle before Yorta’s spirits.
[Long time no see. What are you doing there?]
“…I believe that’s a question I should be asking first.”
Mirva replied, pressing her throbbing forehead with her fingers.
“Why is the Commanding General there?”
Reflected beyond the communication screen was a white-haired young man, bound tightly from head to toe.
Frost clung to his cheeks as if he’d been stuck in a refrigerator, and his coat was stiff and crumpled from being frozen solid.
He lay prostrate at the feet of the masked sorcerer, soaked to the bone, looking their way with an innocent expression, shaking his head.
But among Mirva and the staff officers standing behind her, there was no one who didn’t recognize that face.
A Commanding General, one of only three such individuals within Deadrise.
A swordsman who had gained a uniquely special position within this massive private military company due to his extraordinary abilities.
However, Lennok, who had captured Song-ha, didn’t miss even that passing remark.
[Interesting. This fool is one of Deadrise’s Commanding Generals?]
Crunch!!
Lennok laughed, stomping directly on Song-ha’s nape with one foot, pressing him down.
[I knew he was a general, but I never thought he’d be an executive with a higher rank than a Corps Commander.]
“…Pandemonium.”
Mirva sighed, her expression irritated.
“I’m retracting what I just said. So, first, release the hostage, then we can talk.”
[Why? This is merely a clone, isn’t it? Even if it dies here, it shouldn’t affect the main body, right?]
“…”
Lennok, who had unhesitatingly exposed Song-ha’s ability, asked, looking at the silent Mirva.
[Unless his ability has degenerated to the point where he can’t distinguish between clone and original, there’s no reason to react like that. Am I wrong?]
“This insolent bastard…”
As Mirva’s expression twitched, the scars on her face seemed to rise, radiating a fierce killing intent.
“You know everything and yet you’re trying to play word games with me?”
[Precisely.]
Snap!!
At that moment, Song-ha’s neck twisted and snapped in a grotesque direction.
[Ugh!]
Song-ha slumped lifelessly with a single cry, and Mirva’s reaction froze beyond the screen.
Lennok watched this and spoke to Mirva with an air of condescension.
[I generally understand what you want, but right now, I don’t want any unnecessary interference.]
“…”
[You said you’ve stationed your troops outside the Headrain River? Good. Stay put there until I contact you again.]
“Who do you think you are—!!”
[While also dealing with other factions like yours who come looking to seize the city.]
Click—!
The communication link abruptly cut, and Lennok and Song-ha’s figures vanished from the screen.
Unable to contain her anger, Mirva slammed the screen, then shot up and glared at her staff officers.
“Immediately assess the situation. What in the world is going on?”
Seeing Mirva’s throbbing veins, the staff officers quickly responded.
“It appears Pandemonium has intervened in this incident involving the collapse of the Memorial Tower.”
“Without specific details, we cannot ascertain the current situation…”
“No.”
Mirva puffed on her cigarette and spoke.
“The most crucial issue isn’t why Pandemonium is involved, but why no one knew that Commanding General Song-ha had stormed into Yorta alone until now?”
“…It seems communication links within and outside the Central Front were frequently interrupted, so orders from the General Staff were not properly delivered.”
Someone among the staff officers flipped through the communication logs and explained.
“Given multiple attempts by the 2nd Command to access the Corps’ communication network, it’s likely…”
“Hah, damn it…”
The Corps Commander, who had been grimacing in silence, stood up.
“For now, we wait. If they don’t propose hostage exchange terms within a day, we move.”
“Understood.”
No matter how hot-blooded Mirva’s disposition, it was impossible to mobilize the army when a fellow general was held hostage.
Regardless of Song-ha’s special standing within Deadrise, his full strength was also a great asset to the Corps.
At the very least, they couldn’t make a move until they had a proper grasp of Yorta’s internal situation.
“And, investigate the masked sorcerer from Pandemonium and bring me his profile. Immediately.”
Mirva’s eyes, fixed on the damaged screen, gleamed coldly.
“I need to know what that bastard did in the Military Spirit City.”
Lennok, who had abruptly cut the communication link with Deadrise’s Corps Commander, turned his head.
“Done, right? That bought us some time.”
“…”
“Handle the negotiations with them yourselves. You wouldn’t be so foolish as to just let a general-level superhuman be taken hostage, would you?”
“…I’m not sure what this situation even is right now.”
Naimel said, rubbing his temples with a weary expression.
“Even if we accept your assistance, for us to stand with you against a warlord faction…”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no intention of fighting Deadrise. That’s for them to sort out.”
“…”
“I merely prevented troublesome disturbances from arising before I leave Yorta.”
Leaving Naimel, who seemed to be at a loss for words, staring at him, Lennok gestured with his head.
“I have more to discuss with this fool, so you may leave. Once I’m done, I’ll hand him over.”
“…Understood.”
Perhaps sensing it would be difficult to get a detailed explanation of the situation here, Naimel shook his head and slowly withdrew.
The space on the first underground level where Lennok had been confined was cleared, and even the Military Spirits surrounding them cleanly retreated.
Naimel, standing at the entrance of the stairs leading to the surface, turned to Lennok and said.
“I will control and conclude the relevant situation outside. Please call me when your discussion is finished.”
“I will.”
“Cough, cough…!! You, what’s your true identity…”
The first underground level, now empty after Naimel’s departure.
Song-ha, collapsed beneath the shrine where the Headrain River flowed, weakly shook his head.
“How did you manage to shake the clone’s sustainment ability like this…”
The third revised version of Remaining Thunder Body, Four Books, Three Extremes, is a magic that enhances the target’s reflexes and thought speed.
Therefore, for Song-ha’s clone, which had its intelligence restricted as a condition for maintaining its form, it must have felt like an act of breaking free from its own restraints.
Perhaps because of this, Song-ha seemed unable to even properly guess what kind of magic had been cast on his body.
“No need to know that. What’s more important is this.”
Lennok said that, and pulled out the Papyrus in front of the slumped Song-ha.
Ethan Bajour’s travelogue left in Yorta, and an artifact connected in a series with Papyrus Argenteus.
“…That’s Ethan’s journal. It’s an item with an owner.”
Song-ha also seemed to immediately recognize it, his eyes gleaming even as he lay limp and soaked.
“You shouldn’t have that—!!”
Crack!!
At that moment, the ice mass imprisoning Song-ha slowly cracked and began to shatter.
Even the restraint of Cold Domain: Shackling Realm, with its strength and binding power amplified by ice magic, was being broken purely by brute force.
But Lennok raised his hand towards Song-ha, who was about to break free from the Cold Domain and leap out.
“Move any further, and I’ll tear this up.”
“!!”
“Ethan Bajour’s journal is written here. If you damage it, you’ll never be able to open it again.”
Lennok slowly rolled up the Papyrus, looking at the now compliant Song-ha.
“Let’s make a deal.”
“A deal?”
“What you want isn’t the Papyrus itself, but the contents of the journal, right?”
It seems certain that Ethan forgot the contents of the travelogue after his resurrection. And that he has a reason to recover those forgotten memories.
If so, there were a few ways to coax Song-ha without handing over the Papyrus.
“I’ll duplicate the travelogue’s records and hand them over. In exchange, answer a few questions.”
“…”
Surprisingly, instead of refusing the offer, Song-ha wore a thoughtful expression.
It was probably because Song-ha knew that, with the situation having changed like this, taking the Papyrus by force was out of reach.
It might be better to answer the questions and get the records.
Lennok subtly adjusted his Obsidian Mask, watching Song-ha deliberate.
“I also have no intention of provoking Deadrise right now. A general-level officer shouldn’t die in a place like this, should they?”
“Yes… you’re right.”
Perhaps sensing something in Lennok’s question, Song-ha’s eyes turned chilling.
“Not long ago, Peshia also departed that way.”
“…”
“That bastard Adamant Thunder who killed Peshia, I must kill him with my own hands.”
“I see.”
Lennok nodded, smiling nonchalantly.
“To kill that wizard, you first need to preserve your life in a place like this.”
“…Alright.”
Song-ha seemed to have made a decision, stopping his resistance to break free from the ice mass, and asked.
“What do you want to know?”
“Earlier, I noticed the 4th Corps seems to have moved away from the Central Front and is near Yorta.”
Lennok organized the situation in his mind, choosing his words carefully.
“Aside from the Corps’ individual actions, what is Deadrise’s overall immediate objective?”
“Completely subjugating the Headro Warlords on the Central Front.”
Song-ha replied calmly.
“They were large in scale but lacked substance, but their commanders collectively went mad, and the tide turned. They are now one of our rivals on the front we’re responsible for.”
“Is Daymus also participating in the Headro Warlords subjugation operation?”
“…You know Daymus?”
“Answer the question.”
Song-ha, tilting his head, answered.
“Lieutenant General Daymus commands the Corps’ fastest mobile army, so he rarely misses large-scale operations.”
The answer was more detailed than expected. As a general, he must know quite a bit about internal affairs.
“He’s the busiest among the generals, so he barely has any external activities… How does a suspicious person like you know him?”
“Who knows?”
As Song-ha asked with a bewildered look, Lennok smiled and replied.
“If you go back and ask him, he might tell you.”
“…”
There was no point in pressing Song-ha for specific Deadrise secrets here; he wouldn’t tell.
So, rather than overtly poking for secrets, it was better to take a more indirect approach.
Mainly, by provoking high-ranking executives like Song-ha and observing their reactions…
“I understand Gileon’s activities within Deadrise have been scarce.”
Lennok asked.
“Is he dead?”
“…”
At that moment, Song-ha’s expression became infinitely cold and sunken.
The moment that name emerged from Lennok’s lips, Song-ha’s thoughts naturally converged on one conclusion.
“You. Are you perhaps involved with the project?”
Song-ha’s question scattered a fierce aura, as if he would break the ice and burst out at any moment.
But Lennok, knowing this, smiled nonchalantly.
“I fought him once a long time ago. That’s why I just remember him.”
“That makes no sense. Gileon’s presence in the field was clearly—”
“I once personally broke his Iron-Plated Wings.”
“…”
Since it was an event from the time of the sealed zone, no one remembers what happened then.
No one could discover that fact now, but for Lennok himself, it was a close approximation of the truth.
Song-ha, perhaps sensing this, stared at Lennok’s mask for a long time before answering.
“Gileon… he’s very sick. Even more sick than I am.”
“Sick?”
“He has a long-standing chronic illness. A sickness he’s had since before leaving Vulcan.”
“…”
“Unless it’s for Ethan, he barely moves. Ethan rarely wishes for it either.”
Was that why Gileon had so few public activities, despite his past renown and power?
Indeed, looking back at the time of the sealed zone, the power and abilities Gileon used were quite alien compared to other superhumans.
It wouldn’t be strange for him, who flew above Vulcan’s magnetic storms, to be afflicted with a chronic illness.
‘Should I press him further…?’
Should he provoke Song-ha here and force him to reveal Deadrise’s internal affairs, or leave some leeway at an appropriate time?
Quite some time had passed since he exited the spire through his deal with Naimel, so unless he intended to escape Yorta immediately, it was time to return.
Lennok, silently observing the remaining time and the flow of people moving all around the city, nodded.
Rip!!
The ice mass restraining Song-ha’s body split into two pieces right there, melting away instantly.
“Gasp, gasp!”
“Good.”
Lennok turned his back, tying Song-ha’s soaked body with chains located on the first underground level.
“I’ll duplicate the travelogue’s records and hand them over right now.”
Lennok then transcribed the contents of the Ghost Travelogue into a suitable notebook and handed it to Song-ha.
Lennok, choosing a common spell for transcription, copied it into the notebook and passed it to Song-ha.
“Heh.”
Song-ha, who had been intently staring at the notebook’s contents, soon nodded as if understanding.
“There’s a feeling to it. I don’t know if Ethan really wrote it yet… but if I show it, there should be some reaction.”
“Is Ethan Bajour still with the Deadrise main force?”
“Sometimes.”
“…”
Perhaps feeling his explanation wasn’t sufficient, Song-ha scratched his cheek and said.
“Ethan relinquished his authority after the Corps’ command system was established. Most practical matters are handled by the Lieutenant Generals…”
“Meaning Commanding Generals like you are busy doing nothing, I suppose.”
“…Why do you interpret my words like that?”
Song-ha gazed at Lennok for a moment, then suddenly spoke.
“You said you belong to Pandemonium, didn’t you?”
“…”
“I don’t know who, but I’ve heard stories about a great wizard who wanders the continent, turning cities upside down.”
Song-ha said with conviction, looking at Lennok.
“Why you know Daymus and Gileon… I’ll definitely have to confirm that once I get back.”
“Do as you please.”
Lennok chuckled, raising his magic.
He knew who Song-ha was mistaking him for. And that his guess wasn’t entirely wrong.
But it was also true that there was no need to correct Song-ha’s misunderstanding here.
Therefore, instead of bothering to reply, Lennok immediately left.
“You’re late.”
Naimel, who had been standing, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, spoke.
Lennok struggled up the stairs, gesturing downwards.
“The Deadrise general is tied up in the basement. Take him before he escapes.”
Naimel replied by having other Military Spirits descend to the underground level.
“It seems you obtained what you desired from the crematorium ruins.”
She asked, quietly observing Lennok.
“Was… the arrangement left by that person there?”
“…Perhaps.”
Lennok turned to Naimel and replied.
“It was only filled with corpses, like you, that were sacrificed and abandoned.”
“…”
“I merely found the fundamental reason why the cult proceeded with such a transaction. And, if I had to say…”
Dorye’s physical body, prepared for Kaiser Bajour. And the map Ethan, who visited Yorta earlier, left in the Ghost Travelogue.
The terrain on the map etched into the Papyrus would now reveal where he needed to go next if he investigated it back home.
He hadn’t unearthed all the hidden secrets remaining in this city, but he had almost achieved his initial objectives in Yorta.
“The ancient spirits who were slumbering in the underground levels with you. What are they doing now?”
“They are awaiting your presence at the grand ceremony. It is to hear about this incident and make a decision.”
It was not surprising.
It was obvious that if the spirits exiled from the Night Parade sought to regain Yorta’s power, they would eventually seek out Lennok.
Lennok himself knew this, which was why he had remained in the city, attending to other matters.
“If you are ready, I will personally guide you.”
Rumble!!
At that moment, the level where Lennok stood began to shake violently.
The canals and ground that formed the city’s various levels heaved, moving the very level Lennok stood on.
“The Memorial Tower was the core that maintained the city’s foundation, but conversely, it was also a wedge embedded in the levels.”
“…”
“Originally, Yorta was a city on water, built upon a river. Without the central point binding the city, it means, in other words…”
“That all levels of the city could be freely moved and transported, then.”
Thud!!
The level, firmly bound by chains of mist, was pulled into the middle of Yorta’s main avenue.
The powerhouses from Yorta’s shadowed depths watched Lennok, emanating a chilling spiritual energy without restraint.
Were these the individuals who, while defying the rule of the Court of Soul Pacification, still assented to the cause championed by the Night Parade, now waiting to observe the conclusion of this commotion?
At the end of the wide-open avenue, a gigantic temple, glowing pure white, came into view.
A beautiful and eerie sight, as if countless spirits had interwoven themselves to create the structure.
Whoosh!!
A sharp wind echoed like a silent scream through the vast hall of the temple.
Upon entering the temple, the immense altar filled his vision.
Beyond that altar, five antique thrones were arranged in a row.
Upon the thrones, spirits, each possessing different forms and spiritual energy, looked down at Lennok.
“Naimel, you’re quite late.”
A muscular elder, seated on the central throne, opened his mouth.
“Did it truly take you so much time to persuade this one?”
Lennok turned his gaze to the elder, squinting beyond his mask under the intense pressure.
‘The size…’
His outward appearance wasn’t particularly threatening, but his size was the largest among all the Military Spirits gathered there.
Broad shoulders and a height spanning over ten meters. The throne itself was immensely large.
It certainly seemed like the spirit of a giant, not a human, had become a Military Spirit.
“My apologies, Palunz.”
Naimel, who had followed Lennok, bowed his head slightly.
“As the matter stands, I deemed it something that could not be carried out without his personal consent.”
“Hmm…”
The elder called Palunz slowly twitched his shoulders as he leaned back on his throne.
That alone caused the mist to surge, as if being sucked towards Palunz.
Rumble!!!
He had surmised as much when he heard that the Ancient Spirits were exiled from the Night Parade, but could such powerful beings still remain in the city?
On second thought, it wasn’t strange at all.
This Military Spirit City stood at the boundary between life and death, a city of ghosts that embraced even the deceased.
It wasn’t strange for extraordinary individuals from across the continent to die, become Military Spirits, and wander this city.
Even Naimel, standing right beside Lennok, was once a candidate for the cult’s priestess in her former life.
As Lennok thought that, quietly looking around.
“That Obsidian Mask.”
A spirit, shrouded entirely in black shadow, seated on the furthest right throne, spoke to Lennok.
“It belongs to a familiar lineage.”
“…Who is this?”
Instead of answering Lennok’s question, the black spirit slowly tilted its head and murmured.
“Using manipulation spellcraft, yet brazenly wearing that mask… Are you one who tramples on and insults ancient pride?”
“…”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”
As Lennok’s gaze dropped at the incomprehensible monologue, the spirit, who had risen from its throne, flicked a finger.
“Come closer.”
Crackle…!!
At that moment, dark black magic scribes extended from between the fingers of the deeply sunken spirit.
“If you are an inheritor who has reached the downfall of Ars Nova, then as a fellow noble, I have something to give you.”