#Chapter 111
—
After closing Haerbin’s eyes, Arthur stretched.
“Phew… that was rough. Fighting outnumbered is always a hard battle, no matter when it happens.”
In the process, he had even suffered an injury where his right arm was severed.
It was quickly restored thanks to Tacen’s regenerative ability.
‘Still… this isn’t too bad, is it?’
He had killed more than 300 of Dormund’s soldiers, and even slain the colorless knight, Haerbin.
Killing 300 Dormund soldiers was one thing, but killing Knight Haerbin was truly an unexpected gain.
‘If Ian and Haerbin had attacked together… that might’ve been dangerous.’
Whether by coincidence or fate, Ian’s absence from the encampment at that very moment had been a stroke of luck.
Looking at the outcome alone, it couldn’t have been a more favorable situation.
Yet, Arthur couldn’t shake off a faint sense of regret.
“Damn… I thought I’d finally get to fight Ian properly this time.”
He had been sure he would sever Ian’s head.
Propping his chin on his hand, Arthur let out a deep sigh.
‘Every time I’m about to catch him, he slips away… again and again… nothing’s changed from the past.’
It was the same with the other children of Dormund, but with Ian it was especially so.
The enemy he had clashed with the most, encountered the most—yet also missed the most.
As he was about to sink into his thoughts, Arthur shook his head.
“Well, it’s not like I completely lost him. No need to be so discouraged.”
In fact, it might be better that Ian had gone to the northern snowfields.
If they confronted each other in such a barren wasteland, even Ian wouldn’t be able to escape.
Casting aside his impatience, Arthur smiled.
“Wait for me, Ian. I’ll be coming to see you soon.”
And this time—I’ll kill you for sure.
Nodding, Arthur summoned the gnome.
The gnome, crossing over from the spirit realm into the present world, flinched.
\[……?]
Hundreds of corpses strewn about, tents drenched in blood—
the gnome’s mouth hung open at the horrific scene that looked like a battlefield.
That was when Arthur spoke.
“Mr. Gnome. Take care of the cleanup, please.”
\[Wh-where?]
“All of it.”
The gnome’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
\[A-Arthur… have you finally gone beyond mad and become a—mur—…]
“Hm?”
\[…No, nothing. Forget I said anything.]
Arthur blinked.
Meanwhile, the gnome dropped his arms with a sigh and began the cleanup.
Arthur shrugged and turned around—when something caught his eye.
It was the staff of the mage who had severed his arm earlier.
“Oh? An artifact?”
With those words, Arthur picked it up.
Just then, Undine appeared and cried out in alarm.
\[Arthur! I can feel the energy of a fire spirit in there!]
“A fire spirit?”
\[Yes! And not just any—it’s Ifrit! I can sense her powerful breath!]
Arthur let out a gasp.
“What’s the rank?”
\[Seems similar to me.]
“So an upper spirit is engraved in here?”
\[Yes! That’s what it feels like!]
At Undine’s response, Arthur couldn’t help but exclaim.
‘To think I’d come across a staff imbued with a fire spirit, just like this?’
And if it was a high-ranking fire spirit—it was an artifact worth any price.
Arthur’s lips curved upward as he tucked the staff away.
“Quite lucky.”
\[Lucky, Arthur?]
“Yeah. Lately, I’ve been having such good fortune.”
Undine beamed.
\[If you’re happy, then I’m happy too.]
“Really? Heh… thanks, Undine.”
Just as Arthur turned again, about to leave the Dormund encampment—
“Oh?”
He spotted a familiar pair of pointed ears in the distance.
Arthur smirked faintly and concealed his presence.
—
—
Under a torrential downpour, as if the sky itself had torn open, Jeannie muttered:
“What in the world is going on?”
The Dormund camp, where the sound of cannons had thundered only moments ago, was now eerily quiet.
Biting her lip, Jeannie thought:
‘If the noise stopped… doesn’t that mean the fighting is over?’
Whether it was Arthur Bayern who had stormed into the camp, or the Dormund soldiers fighting him—
one side had stopped fighting, and that was why the chaos had ceased.
But which side was it?
Jeannie let out a groan.
“Haa… I can’t believe it, but… maybe he really died this time?”
As monstrous as Arthur Bayern was, his opponent had been an army.
And not a ragtag militia, but the Dormund army, one of the most elite forces on the continent.
‘Arthur Bayern surviving against them…?’
The odds were close to zero.
‘Then did he really die? That Arthur Bayern?’
Frowning, Jeannie got to her feet.
“Damn it.”
Though Arthur had told her to stay put, she couldn’t just sit idle with things like this.
She summoned Sylph, now an upper spirit.
“Help me, Sylph.”
\[Understood, Jeannie.]
At once, Jeannie’s body turned translucent.
Using Sylph’s power to cloak herself, she quietly approached the Dormund encampment.
“……”
Scattered torches, ripped military tents.
Prowling through the wreckage, Jeannie halted.
“…What?”
She frowned and turned her head.
At that moment, sunlight pierced through the clouds.
‘When did the rain stop?’
While she stared blankly at the sky, lost in thought, she felt something touch her shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“…Uwaaah!”
Jeannie screamed and collapsed to the ground.
Arthur blinked as he watched her.
“Why are you suddenly putting on a show, Jeannie?”
“Y-young master?”
“Yes. That’s me.”
Her eyes widened at his reply—
and she saw him standing there without a scratch.
Jeannie stammered, jaw trembling.
“Y-you’re not… a ghost, are you?”
“…Ghost?”
“How can you not have a single wound…?”
Jeannie shrugged at her question.
“Oh, wounds? Well, I did lose an arm, but it regenerated quickly.”
“…Regenerated?”
“Yeah. Anyway, how long are you going to sit there?”
With that, Arthur pulled Jeannie up from the ground by force.
Dazed, she muttered:
“What… happened?”
“The situation? It’s all over.”
“All… over?”
“Yes. Want to see for yourself? Look back there.”
At his words, Jeannie shut her mouth.
Only then did the iron scent of blood clinging to Arthur reach her nose.
She swallowed dryly and shook her head.
“…No. If you say it’s over, then it’s over.”
“Oh… quite a lot of faith in me, huh?”
“When it comes to this sort of thing, no one can match you.”
Arthur tilted his head.
This sort of thing?
Just then, Jeannie frowned and grabbed his hand.
“If you’re done here, let’s leave quickly. Nothing good comes from lingering at the scene.”
He nodded.
“Agreed. Honestly, I’m exhausted and want to rest.”
“Where are you planning to go?”
At her question, Arthur’s gaze shifted north.
“…North, I suppose.”
Jeannie tilted her head.
“Haven’t you already achieved your goal? You killed the Dormund army.”
“No. I haven’t killed the most important person yet.”
“…And who’s that?”
“Ian Dormund.”
Jeannie’s ears quivered.
“Do you… really have to kill him?”
“Yes.”
At Arthur’s firm reply, Jeannie didn’t ask further.
Instead, she sighed deeply.
“…Then first, let’s leave and meet up with Leon.”
She dashed forward, and Arthur, about to follow, paused.
“Oh….”
Without realizing it, the morning sun had risen.
Staring briefly at the sun cresting the horizon, Arthur grinned.
“A fine start to the day.”
—
—
Ian tapped his fingers.
His adjutant, sitting across from him, fidgeted nervously, watching his expression.
But Ian’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, unmoving.
By the time the adjutant’s face had all but withered, Ian finally spoke.
“Any word?”
“N-no, still nothing.”
Ian closed his mouth again.
And resumed tapping his fingers.
The adjutant muttered under his breath.
‘Damn it… at this point I’d rather he just punish me outright. This is torture.’
A short while ago, they had lost contact with the Dormund forces left in the rear.
Since that moment, Ian hadn’t budged from his seat.
Neither, in turn, had the numerous adjutants and knights attending him.
Over ten burly men holding their breath in such a cramped cabin—it was pure torment.
But none dared to voice complaint.
For Ian’s expression in silence was anything but ordinary.
“……”
That expressionless face—it was the spitting image of his father, Cain Dormund.
And considering that Cain usually wore such an expression when he was seething with rage,
his son Ian could be no different.
So everyone held their breath, watching only him.
At last, Ian broke the silence.
“…Heh, heh.”
“…?”
“Keheheh… kahahaha!”
At his sudden burst of laughter, every eye in the cabin widened.
Shaking his head, Ian muttered:
“…I just imagined something. Tell me if it makes sense, will you all?”
His adjutant answered hastily.
“Of course, sir—!”
“…Though it’s shameful. To be honest.”
“Please speak freely!”
Ian chuckled between words.
“I thought—what if the rear unit lost contact because they were attacked by someone?”
“…?”
“Like, struck by a sudden disaster and wiped out. So they can’t answer my messages. That sort of thought. Isn’t it absurd? How could such a thing possibly happen?”
The adjutant blinked, then forced a laugh.
“Haha—! Indeed, how could such a thing happen, sir!”
Others joined in:
“Even a lunatic would turn aside at the sight of Dormund’s banner, let alone attack!”
“And don’t forget, Sir Haerbin Raine is with the rear! The genius knight of Dormund himself!”
“Who could possibly defeat him? Unless it were a Swordmaster!”
At that, Ian smiled.
“So you all think the same as me?”
“Yes, sir!”
“I see. But if… that absurd thought were reality?”
“…?”
“Then who would be responsible?”
“……”
“Why is no one answering?”
The room fell silent.
Ian, no longer smiling, was about to speak again—
Screeech—!
The train screeched to a halt.
Ian withdrew his gaze from his adjutants and rose to his feet.
A knight by his side hurried after him.
“…Allow me to escort you, sir—!”
Ian did not reply.
Instead, he stepped off the train.
There before him lay the boundary between the northern snowfields and Akein.
And there, at the boundary, was a small village.
The last village north of Akein: **Northend Village**.
“……”
Ian gazed at the village for a moment, then moved forward.
Behind him, hundreds of Dormund soldiers hefted their weapons and prepared to follow—
When a piercing whoosh cut the air.
“……!”
Startled, Dormund knights hastily knocked aside a spear that had been hurled at Ian.
“Who goes there?!”
Their cry echoed across the snowfields.
The reply came moments later—
Not a voice, but the rumble of the earth.
“……!”
The Dormund knights’ eyes widened.
Ian chuckled faintly.
“…And what do we have here?”
From beyond the snowfields, a monster appeared.
No—a massive man, who tore away the rags covering him.
The sight of his face made the Dormund soldiers gape.
“His face is… green?”
No, not just his face—his entire body gleamed with a green hue.
As they flinched at his grotesque form, another figure appeared.
A slender-looking mage.
“T-Tacen! Are you insane? Attacking like that all of a sudden?!”
Instead of replying, the monster drew his sword.
Whoosh—!
A surge of grey sword aura flared, flickering across the white snow.
Ian’s eyes narrowed.
“…Sword aura?”
That such a monster had formed five rings of mastery?
His brow furrowed.
The troll-blooded warrior of the snowfields, Tacen, roared:
“Was it you who slaughtered our believers?”
Ian tilted his head.
‘Believers? Slaughtered? What nonsense is this?’
The only group here called “believers” was the **Black Cross**.
‘Then this monster… belongs to the Black Cross?’
Given the circumstances, it seemed so.
And coincidentally, he had ordered his rear forces to investigate them.
‘A monster of five circles or more. The Black Cross… and our lost rear unit.’
The puzzle pieces fell into place.
Expression hardening, Ian demanded:
“Then why did you strike at Dormund’s army?”
At that, not only his adjutant but all the soldiers nearby stiffened.
“…What?”
“That monster attacked Dormund’s army?”
“Then… Sir Haerbin in the rear, is that why he’s out of contact…?”
Tacen scoffed.
“You bastards. Weren’t you the ones who minced the vampires into ground meat?”
“…?”
“Chopped them up so fine, they weren’t even recognizable.”
At his words, Ian let out a dry laugh.
‘So it’s true… Haerbin fought the vampire clan and ran into this creature.’
At last, the mystery was solved.
Ian’s face turned expressionless once more.
From his sword, blue sword aura ignited.
Fwoosh—!
The searing light made Tacen’s eyes narrow.
“…Seems I’ll have to catch you myself and ask directly, monster.”
Lifting his blade, Ian’s eyes gleamed with killing intent.
“I’ll hear with my own ears… how someone like you managed to bring down *Haerbin*.”
—
