“All right! Bring it over there!”
“Careful setting that down!”
“Next one! Let’s go!”
“Heave-ho!”
Meanwhile, in the underground mine at the southern edge of the kingdom, spirited shouts echoed as the manastone excavation proceeded at a rapid pace. Stones were being stacked up one after another in the wide area where the teleportation circle was located.
The White Tiger rolled his shoulders as he spoke to Zenos. “We can only work this fast because you healed everyone and took care of the undead. We owe you.”
“No, no, I owe you,” Zenos insisted.
After hearing of the escape plan, not just the White Tiger but all of the prisoners had joined the effort to mine for manastones. Thanks to that, they’d already collected more than half of what they needed.
“All right! Everyone on break, line up over here!” Lily called out.
She was at the edge of the chamber, cooking the food they’d obtained in exchange for some of the manastones. The warm soup, seasoned with freshly shaved rock salt, seemed to wash over the prisoner’s bodies and soothe their fatigue.
“Th-This is so good!”
“Warms you all the way up...”
“First time I’ve had something this good down here.”
The prisoners, sipping their bowls with tears streaming down their faces, came closer to Zenos.
“Thanks, boss!”
“This is all because of you, boss!”
“I’m telling you, I’m not your boss,” Zenos said, waving a hand dismissively.
The White Tiger laughed heartily. “Better get used to it. Who else would they see as their boss?”
“Look, I’m not cut out for this,” the healer muttered, scratching his head.
Aston, passing by with armfuls of manastones, spat, “If you lead the way, you’re the leader. That’s how the world works. Just accept it already!”
“Aston...”
“Maybe if you’d led the Golden Phoenix, things wouldn’t have turned out the way they did,” Aston muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
The former leader of the Golden Phoenix stormed off in long strides.
Zenos turned his gaze to Carmilla, who was fluttering around the large magic circle at the center of the chamber.
“How’s that going, Carmilla? Think you can modify it?”
“’Tis an old thing, this, but being underground all this time has kept it from deteriorating much. I might be done faster than expected. Truly, my talents are astounding.”
“You praise yourself as easily as breathing.”
“Hee hee hee... Of course! I am, after all, the greatest sage in—”
Carmilla’s words stopped abruptly and her eyes widened in surprise, fixing on a single point.
“What’s wrong?”
“This is bad. We are not the only ones moving faster than anticipated.”
Zenos furrowed his brow. “What?”
“I have no doubt that he...that Galhamut has awakened,” Carmilla gritted out.
✦ ✦ ✦
At that time, in the Saintess’s Spire located in the eastern part of the royal palace, Artemisia had just stepped into the altar chamber. Naturally, she was unaware of the chaos currently taking place at the Royal Guard’s headquarters in the administrative ward. In this place, completely cut off from the outside world, there was only sacred silence.
Still, she found herself holding her breath and freezing in place.
“What? This is...”
The ominous star floating in the sky had grown even larger, glowing with a malevolent light. An indescribable sense of dread crept up her spine.
Throughout history, saintesses had stood in this very spot, offering their blessings and prayers toward the Sacred Garden visible below. The tradition followed the belief that such blessings would be extended toward the entire nation, thus protecting the kingdom. While Herzeth had been involved in minor skirmishes with other nations and subject to various tragedies, there had never been a calamity that shook the kingdom to its foundation. The crown had credited this to the saintesses’ blessings.
But this ominous star, heralding most severe rot, had shown no signs of fading. If anything, it was now swollen like a balloon on the verge of bursting.
Swallowing dryly, Artemisia looked down at the ground from the altar’s privileged position—and noticed something odd.
“What...is that?”
The Sacred Garden, where Herzeth’s first king was said to have received divine revelation, was usually nothing more than a modest hill with a shrine at its summit. Now, however, two black shapes were jutting toward the sky from the middle of the forested slope, gleaming eerily in the setting sun.
They were a pair of gigantic jet-black wings, as large as the hill itself.
Birds, sensing the danger, took flight all at once into the sky.
“Long have I waited,” came a low, rumbling tremor in the air, reaching even the saintess within the sealed confines of the tower. “Seek, my kin.”
The voice seemed to violently shake the very air throughout the royal capital.
“Seek my final fragment. Seek the saintess.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Standing on elevated ground overlooking the Sacred Garden, the Conductor murmured quietly, “Aw... Are we out of time?”
Galhamut, king of the fell dragons, had awakened. The demon lord’s curse had finally been broken, and the dragon’s ancient wounds had finally healed. Two enormous wings were protruding from the hillside, shedding black scales that scattered through the air. Each one twisted and shifted into a dragon that flew toward the royal capital.
“The only silver lining is that he’s still newly awoken.”
It was likely that Galhamut wasn’t yet at full power. First, he would try to find and obtain the final piece necessary for his full resurrection: the saintess.
“It all began when this kingdom was first founded. If he returns to his full form, the world will fall into darkness.”
The Conductor slowly lowered their hood, turning their gaze toward the capital.
“The time of trial has come, humans.”