The sun rose over the burned wasteland, illuminating the dull scorch marks on its surface.
Orphen sighed, looking out over the hunched over human beings sitting on the ground. He felt an itch on his cheek and scratched it, finding dried blood and sand sticking to his face.
He wasn’t stopped. He was walking. His destination was a gathering of several Thirteen Apostles, one among them a large man spewing orders in rapid succession.
“Just keep the wounded from panicking. You can use the medical supplies—sorcerous healing likely wouldn’t be enough. I want Squad Two to meet up with Squad Four. What? What’s the issue?”
“Well, it’s just...there are fewer survivors in Squad Two, but the leader of Squad Two, Prick, is older than the leader of Squad Four, so should the new squad be called Squad Two or Squad Four...”
“Just vote on something stupid like that. But I want them to answer to me whether I call them Squad Two or Squad Four, all right?”
Each time he ordered something, one of his men nodded and ran off. Orphen slowed down and arrived next to Pluto right when he finished giving his final order.
The large man glared at him in irritation. “What is it? You here to give me some pointless advice again?”
“No.” Orphen didn’t bother rising to Pluto’s provocation. “I just want to know what the damage is from that attack.”
“And what’ll you do with that information? You want to use it to lower our morale?”
“Stop that—no, I’m partially at fault too. But I won’t tell you guys to go back to the capital anymore.”
“Oh?” Pluto clearly didn’t believe him.
Orphen sighed. He put his hands on his hips and groaned. “If the sanctuary’s attacking this aggressively, then we’ll need some fighting power even if we just want to negotiate with them.”
“Are you still saying things like that?” After he spoke, the Demon of the Capital seemed to realize his volume. He picked up his warhammer from the ground and shouldered it before more quietly saying, “Let’s talk while we walk. We stick out like a sore thumb here.”
“All right.”
As they walked, Pluto made his mountainous frame even more noticeable by producing loud footsteps as he moved. Orphen knew that the man could move without making the sound dust made when it hit the ground, so he was being so loud either to intimidate him or because he was just that tired. Orphen figured it was probably the latter disguised as the former.
Pluto started things off, speaking haltingly. “You’ve seen how the sanctuary does things now. You still believe they’ll negotiate with us? You’re not Maria Huwon; I can’t imagine you’re that naive.”
“I’m not pretending at pacifism here. But this situation is ridiculous. Say you conquer the sanctuary—what do you do then? If you have no way of dealing with the goddess coming in ten days, then what difference will it make?”
Pluto’s frown deepened. He was no doubt annoyed by the validity of Orphen’s argument. “Let me tell you the same thing, then. It’s even more idiotic hoping that the sanctuary will show us compassion. Their whole scheme is to survive by abandoning everyone who isn’t them.”
“That’s why we have to get hold of them both,” Orphen told him.
“What do you mean?” Pluto asked instead of immediately arguing with him. He’d finally managed to pique the man’s interest.
“There’s no point in conquering the sanctuary by force—we need to take it without damaging it. I’m starting to think that’s what Leki—that Deep Dragon—what he’s trying to do.”
“That’s still rather abstract. I hate the way you’re speaking right now; it sounds exactly like that master of yours... Speak plainly.”
“Well, I’ve been trying to figure out what Leki’s goal is here. Considering the strength he wields, he doesn’t need us, so why is he protecting us?” Orphen indicated the black wolf some distance away. Claiomh had led him over to the heavily wounded to get him to help them. “There must be some reason why Leki needs us. That’s when I got this idea. Leki can bring us to the sanctuary, but what Leki can’t do is convey his will to someone else. He has Claiomh as his familiar right now, but even they aren’t able to understand each other completely. It’s impossible for a Deep Dragon.”
“But the Deep Dragon couldn’t get through the barrier either. So what do we do about that?” Pluto asked the obvious question.
Orphen thought for a moment before answering. “If there was really nothing we could do about the barrier, then the sanctuary wouldn’t bother attacking us, right? There’s a way through somehow... There must be.”
“If we could just break through it, we’d be able to force our way right into the sanctuary.” Pluto glared at the invisible barrier.
Orphen kept pushing him. “We need someone who can negotiate with the sanctuary as the representative of humanity. To the Union of Lords, that’s probably the lord of the Imminent Domain. To the Continental Sorcerers’ Association—”
“That would be me, a council member,” Pluto responded boldly.
Orphen nodded without comment, satisfied that they were on the same page. He moved on to the next item on his list. “If we can make use of the sanctuary’s facilities, the lord at least seems to have a plan...”
“What kind of plan?”
“Well, I don’t know its chance of success, but if it goes well, we could drive back the goddess without having to shrink the Ayrmankar barrier.”
Pluto closed his eyes in thought, reminding Orphen of his relatively young age. The man was in his forties, if he recalled correctly. Old enough to be called experienced, but still young to be leading such a large number of people. The Demon only hesitated for a short time.
Turning back to face Orphen, he said, “Krylancelo of the Tower of Fangs. You didn’t have a surname, is that right?”
“Hmm? Y-Yes, sir. My parents didn’t leave me with anything.” He ended up answering like he was still a student when Pluto asked him a question about his past.