“Diane? Oh, Diane… Why didn’t you bring Elisabel?”
“Ma! What are you saying?! What happened to you?!”
They were in the temple, now strewn with the fallen bodies of daemonists. Actually, there was one daemonist left: Diane’s mother, Cher, wife of the patriarch. She leaned against the unsettling altar, dazed. Her golden eyes reflected nothing of reality. She wasn’t even able to hold a coherent conversation with Diane, who was shaking her shoulders and trying desperately to talk to her.
“Elisabel… If we only had the blood of a Schultz princess…it would be complete. But it’s too late now.”
“Ma… Hang on!”
“Move.”
Lade trudged toward Cher, holding his massive sword. The patriarch’s wife stroked the altar that the magemaster had called the Unholy Spirit.
Diane knew what that one word meant. She held out both arms, standing defiantly in the path of the strongest swordsman in all the warrior clan.
“Hold it, big guy! My Ma is just a little drunk, that’s all! She’s not a daemonist!”
“That’s right. I’m not a daemonist… I’m…ah, I can’t stand it anymore! It’s too much. My head, my heart…they’re going to burst with this loathsome hatred!”
Cher started writhing, screaming as her eyes glowed more and more golden. Her upper body swayed unnaturally; her grey hair started to twist and stretch of its own accord.
“Shaaaylaaa!”
“Ma?!”
“Hrngh!” Lade held his sword with the point straight forward and tried to stab Cher. Diane turned to her mother, trying to hug her. But Cher’s metamorphosis happened before either of them could reach her.
Cher’s head swelled up with such force it looked like it would explode.
She was no longer a human—she was a mass of darkness. Just before that darkness swallowed up Diane, Lade grabbed her by the back of the neck.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
Cher’s swollen head swallowed the Unholy Spirit, quivering as it grew larger. In just a few seconds, it was already the size of a bull…and soon, the size of a shed.
“So, the Daemon Calix is the Epicenter. She’s the nest.” Lade’s normally steady voice was just a little shaky.
A jet-black sphere towered over the stunned Schultz people, Diane, and Lade. On its surface, geometric lines resolved into the shape of a pupil.
It was the same as the daemon nest that Geo Margilus had destroyed, deep in the Valley of Daemons.
✦ ✦ ✦
“What do you think, Margilus? It’s pretty good, right?”
“Mmm…”
Somehow I’d found myself observing Filsand military drills on the parade ground in front of the Stalwart Castle. I was in a magnificent command post about five meters tall. Next to me were the duke, dressed in the same black clothing he’d worn when we first met, and the pale-faced prime minister. The new captain of the guard (and former suitor) was also there. He seemed to have already recovered from losing consciousness from Stun Lightning and looked well. Although he did avoid making eye contact with me.
According to the prime minister, fully three thousand knights and soldiers were assembled below us, training in formation.
“It’s amazing,” I offered. “They’re extremely disciplined.”
The black army was actually moving in perfect synchronicity. They were divided into horizontal rows by brigade and changed formations from a V formation to an Λ formation based on the hand movements of the duke.
“The full military is three or four times this size. There aren’t many armies in Sedia with his level of skill or quality of armor. It’s only thanks to the prosperity of Filsand that we’re able to maintain such a fine standing force.”
“Mmm. I see.”
Rather than the militia or peasant levy one might expect from medieval Earth, the armies of Sedia were mostly composed of full-time regular soldiers—otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to keep up with the daemons. This fact held true in Filsand. Clearly the duke knew that an army this large was proof of his tremendous wealth and power.
Ahh…now I get it.
“My castle is still pretty small,” I admitted. “I certainly couldn’t field an army like this. And we don’t have that much revenue, either.”
“Heh. Well, you’ll just have to keep building up your power from now on. But you can’t do that without soldiers and cash.”
The duke was probably trying to show me that even if I had the strongest power as an individual, he was above me militarily and economically. I was well aware that I needed more than one giant mech to win a war.
“So how about it? Are you ready to team up with me yet? I aim to absorb Velde as soon as possible. After that, you can take all the lands due west and north for yourself.” He finally declared his intent to invade Velde out loud.
“So, you intend to divide the continent between us? That’s a pretty grand plan.”
“I’m itching to get started,” the duke confirmed.
“Amazing…”
Looking around, both the prime minister and the captain looked genuinely happy. I supposed that was to be expected after they’d served the duke for so long. I was starting to think that shipping his first wife off to the nunnery was part of the duke’s master plan. After all, she had strong connections to Velde, and would surely oppose his scheme.
This really was a conversation with a genuine warlord. I’d be lying if I said that being party to such a conversation didn’t excite me a bit. However, I’d already chosen my path, and it wasn’t that of a warlord, but that of a wizard.
I thought maybe I could just refuse, saying “I would never do something so foul,” or maybe, “Only pigs start wars,” but in the end, I didn’t manage anything so fancy.
“Nah. I’ll pass.”
I shook off the temptation. The former went against my policy of being seen as non-threatening by the duke. If he knew I was a good man (not that I believed myself anything so pure), then he would gladly take advantage of that. In the unlikely scenario that Mora was taken hostage… That thought scared me. And the latter…well, insults would just be stooping to the duke’s level.
“What’s wrong? You’re not scared of a battle against humans, are you?”
“No, not exactly…”
It was hard to find the right balance here.
“Anyway, let’s find a quiet place to talk.”