The onikin had finished their work. They’d all been skeptical of their chances, but everything had gone swimmingly.
Their mission complete, they got to carrying their stolen supplies back to the rendezvous point, but it was taking longer than expected—it was a bigger haul than any of them could have asked for. In the end, they decided to ditch some of the supplies in the mountains.
After making a number of trips, they were finally down to the last lot of loot. On the plains they would have used horses, but they did not have that luxury here—they carried the loot on their own backs and covered their tracks with magic.
Still, the insurgents showed no signs of movement. They’d been walking through the night until dawn and were still at the deserted village—those who weren’t asleep gazed into space, their souls broken. Zorg had a falconkin watching over them just to be on the safe side, but the battalion was so physically exhausted and mentally destroyed that it hardly seemed necessary.
With the enemy so completely and utterly defeated, it would have been fine for the expeditionary party to lower their guard, but the mastis remained on high alert, and the falconkin above kept their eyes peeled for potential threats. The onikin’s magic was still at work too, and they stayed unseen.
The onikin still had a great many magical stones in reserve, and things were going smoothly. Admittedly, however, the all-nighter and the supply deliveries had left them a bit wanting for energy.
Still, I can’t believe those forestkin appear to have completely lost touch with their magic. The twins see through our spells in an instant, so I wonder... Is it a case of them being the same race but worlds apart in terms of potential? But given how talented the girls are, just how did the others end up like that?
Zorg was thinking as he walked through the forest, careful not to make any noise. It was then that one of the young onikin approached him carrying a bundle of bows.
“Zorg, look at these,” he sighed. “We took these bows from the soldiers we captured. They’ve done nothing to them—they’re just pieces of bent wood with string attached. It’s good wood, and there’s some power in them, but imagine what they’d be like with some of our upgrades. It’s such a waste.”
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“I thought that might be the case when I saw their bows from afar,” replied Zorg, “but a part of me just couldn’t believe it was possible. They wore bulky metal armor too, and it’s obvious that they approach their bows in a completely different way to us. I don’t get it. I’d heard that war broke out here all the time—you’d think they’d have developed their weaponry, but this is as basic as it gets.”
Zorg felt the last wisps of magic leave the magical stone he carried, so he put his supplies down and brought out a new one from the pouch at his waist. Then he picked up his supplies again and walked on, his spell never wavering for a moment. The forest was clearing, and beyond it he saw the road that led to the coast.
“Just a little more,” he whispered to his men. “Don’t let your guards down.”
All the members of the team knew they’d be able to rest after just a little more work, and so they pushed on, slowly but surely, to meet with Aymer and the others.
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Joe, Lorca, and the domain guard loaded supplies as Aymer watched from her now-usual spot upon Aruharu’s head. The supplies were taken from carts and piled on rafts, which were surrounded by goblins who made sure everything was stable and dry. Then the rafts were taken to the ship waiting offshore and loaded aboard.
“I never saw it firsthand, but I think their weakness came down to mindset.”
Aruharu spoke plainly, as if it were obvious, but Aymer wasn’t following.
“Weakness?” she asked. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve heard how the insurgent forces here feel about the lostblood. How they talk about them. They don’t even try to cooperate. They believe themselves superior, and that’s the end of it. It influences everything they do, right down to their military, and they look down on anybody who’s different. Their bigotry has them fighting among themselves to create a nation of purebloods.”
Aruharu sighed and continued, “It’s ridiculous. As far as weaknesses go, it’s just plain stupid. The better idea is to gather talented, able-bodied people from far and wide, each with their own unique skills. The insurgents had numbers, but they’re an army of idiots. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that in the end their strategies are just as stupid as they are.”
“Oh, I see,” said Aymer, catching on. “And it’s true to say that the Beastland Kingdom is filled with a great many different races, each with their own unique strengths. Were they to put their differences aside and unite, they would be most formidable. Instead, their inability to get along leads to internal conflict, which only serves to reinforce their enmity and increase discrimination against the lostblood.”
Aymer thought for a moment, then posed a new question.
“Hmm... I suppose great power is one thing, but whether or not a nation’s leader can make good use of it is entirely another. Is it different in the empire? Is there a variety of other races including your own?”
“Well, we had a lot of people doing a lot of things,” Aruharu answered, “but everything came to a crushing halt because our forces were ground into dust by this one guy. Seriously, it was insane. He was insane. Race, skill, strength—none of it mattered. That guy ran roughshod over everybody. Some of the beastkin among us fled as soon as they realized how powerful he was, and they did it right before battle. The higher-ups raked them over the coals for insubordination.”
Aruharu shook her head.
“And get this,” she continued. “Even now the empire is in a panic trying to rebuild their military. Apparently they’re even taking a more favorable view to the beastkin races too. But I mean, seriously, they can rebuild their forces and recruit more beastkin, and that’s all fine, but what’s the point if you can’t stop an unstoppable force? Guess that’s why the empire’s plan seems to be patience—they have to hold on until that one guy gets old and frail or just croaks.”
“Oh... Oh...” Soon enough, Aymer realized whom Aruharu was referring to. “Is...that so? I can...scarcely imagine such a person...”
“What’s wrong, Aymer? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“Uh, it’s nothing. Really. I was just thinking that when all of this is over, we’ll have to think about your future. We’ll be able to set you up without issue; it’s just a matter of working out how to get you home.”
“Huh? Well, at least you guys are open to discussion, unlike the insurgents here. And I don’t think there’s any need for me to rush either. Even I know that it’s not a simple task to travel through Sanserife to the empire. I’m thinking it might be best to send a letter with Sahhi. I’ll decide what to do once I get a reply.”
Aruharu put her hands behind her head and stretched her back. There was a sense of release in the gesture—excited anticipation, and freedom on the horizon. She’d been through a lot in the Beastland Kingdom, and she was finally going to be clear of it. The relief was palpable.
Aymer, however, was still deep in thought and looked rather troubled. All the same, they went on talking and watched as the ship was loaded.