Chapter 74: Chapter 74

"Ran cut through the mass of black flames ?"

Rev's face was more serious than ever, as if he had been waiting for this very moment.

Indeed, that was the case. As soon as Ran woke up, Rev sat him down and reenacted the scene with his one arm as best he could.

Rev half-closed his eyes.

"With an ordinary person's eyes, the slash was almost impossible to follow. Aside from me, maybe only Tascar saw it."

"The black flames split, just ! Pah!"

Ran swallowed hard. It was hard to believe. Ever since he drew Nachal, his memory was fragmented.

He locked eyes with Iel, who sat beside him. Iel nodded vigorously, as if to confirm the story.

"Wow! It's over! Ran really did it! And when we were all celebrating?! Then, as if it were a lie, we all lost consciousness. My last memory is seeing those scattered black flames swirl and tangle with Ran again."

"And when we opened our eyes, we were here, in Northland. Ran was the last one to wake up."

Iel added. Ran covered his mouth with his hand to stop a sigh from escaping.

The vivid nightmare felt like it was now drifting in broken pieces through his mind. Remembering how he steeled himself before the life-and-death fight with the wraith, a wave of emptiness swept over him.

'Anyway, what's important is that we safely arrived in Northland.'

Ran shook his head. He decided to forget the rest for now.

The group was on a lakeshore. The forest around them was peaceful. It was nothing like the Northland scenery Ran had imagined. He gazed quietly at the glittering sunlight reflected on the gentle waves. It was a tranquil moment.

"Can we talk for a bit?"

Tascar approached. He may have been a disruptive guest disturbing their rest, but Ran stood up unfazed. Now was exactly when Tascar's usefulness mattered.

The two of them moved a fair distance away from the group.

Looking awkward, tascar turned his head and spoke.

"For starters, thank you. We're back thanks to you. Sigurd is safe as well."

He mustered some courage. No matter who the other person was, he believed in acknowledging what should be acknowledged.

Tascar glanced sideways. Soon, he frowned.

Ran was earnestly drawing something on the ground. At a glance, it was just a lopsided circle.

"Suppose this is Northland. About where are we?"

Tascar quietly compared Ran and his drawing. He sighed and pointed with his foot at the lower part of the circle.

"Probably here. I scouted the area while you were asleep. Surprisingly, we're a little away from the mountains."

Again, Ran just stared at the makeshift map he had drawn. He marked a spot at the upper right of the circle.

The tip of Tascar's eye lifted slightly.

"You can tell just from this?"

"There's nothing else worth identifying in that area."

Ran drew a line connecting the point Tascar indicated as their current location and the spot he suspected to be Ortega. A diagonal line now crossed the center of the map.

"I have two questions. First, is this route workable? Second, is there still a sea route from Ortega to the mainland?"

Information about Northland wasn't completely absent in the Empire.

Ran had memorized a basic outline of Northland's geography and villages back in his Special Unit days. Not because he'd anticipated coming here someday, but out of pure intellectual curiosity.

He knew there was a sea route connecting Ortega at the eastern edge of Northland with Igraine in the northeastern part of the continent.

Tascar grimaced and finally spoke.

"I promised to help you. But that meant fighting together against the imperial bastards."

"I need to know your true objective."

Ran rubbed the bridge of his nose, straightened his knees, and stood up.

"Fine. Now that we've come this far, there's no need to hide anymore. Let's come clean while we're at it."

One needs to know when to play psychological games, and when to take the straightforward approach.

Ran chose the straightforward approach.

"The one chasing me is the Empire's Fourth Sword, Oscar. He used to be your brother, mukesh."

With that one sentence, tascar, who had always kept his composure, was brought to his knees.

"And Iel and I need to return to the mainland, to Igraine. So, will you—?"

Tascar felt dizzy. His mind was a complete blank. He didn't even know where to begin.

"? My brother—no, how would he? And more importantly, how did you even know?"

"That doesn't matter, tascar. The real question is whether you're going to help me or not. If you will, what kind of help can you provide? If not, we can settle this here and now—life or death. Choose. Cut the nonsense."

Tascar was flabbergasted into silence. He was so stunned that he was about to laugh.

Just what kind of maniac is this lunatic?

That was all that ran through his mind.

Ran added another line.

"Why are you making that dumb face? You love to act so clever all the time."

"Why are those the only options? No, why should I even be forced to choose by you in the first place?"

Ran sighed shortly and spoke quickly.

"We're both fugitives. And both of us have people to be responsible for. You only got back because of my help, and I need you here as a local guide. Got it so far?"

"So right now, we're in the same boat. Will you keep going together, or get off? Is that question difficult?"

"On top of that, I kindly explained my circumstances. My enemy is your blood. I'm asking if you're prepared. From my perspective, if I can cut you loose beforehand, it's best to be sure."

There was a brief silence. Ran didn't press further.

Tascar opened his mouth.

"In any case, I was planning to kill Oscar with my own hands. From the way you're talking, you already know, don't you?"

Ran didn't bother to deny it.

Maybe his pride was wounded from losing the initiative, but Tascar spoke forcefully.

"Let me make something clear. Ragna, Sigurd, and I are from the Sabertooth Tiger tribe. The Sabertooth Tigers used to rule Ortega, and we were the rulers of Northland. When you were fighting your big civil war, Northland had a similar crisis. We were defeated by the allied tribes. In the end, we lost the throne and ended up ."

Ran folded his arms, gesturing for him to continue.

"My aim is to reclaim Ortega. I planned to gather the surviving tribe members and take revenge. After all sorts of twists and turns, this is where we are."

Tascar crouched down and wiped away the diagonal line Ran had drawn.

"This route is impossible. The center is so cold that even us Northmen would struggle."

It was all because of the Gigantes Mountains, tascar said. From the west to the center, half of Northland was under the influence of these perpetual snowcapped peaks.

Tascar drew a line along the eastern coast leading to Ortega.

"If you want to move with Iel, this is the best route."

"How long will it take?"

"Easily over fifteen days."

"All right. What about the sea route?"

"You ask the oddest questions for an imperial. The sea route isn't something you can just open and close like your gates. As long as there's a ship and crew, it's available."

Tascar pointed to his own chest with his thumb.

"The ship is in Ortega, and the people are here."

"Our Sabertooth Tiger tribe established the sea route from Ortega to imperial Igraine. Even as a child, I traveled it several times. That's how I learned the imperial language so quickly. Right now, no one in Ortega knows that sea route except me."

In the end, both of their objectives aligned on Ortega.

As Ran organized his thoughts, he asked,

"So, what's the current situation in Ortega?"

"That's what I'll have to find out. I've been gone from Northland for over half a year. But it's obvious: They'll be tearing each other apart, just like always. That's the nature of Northland. The weak unite and split again and again, all to topple a strong tribe."

Even as Tascar spoke, his mouth tasted bitter. It wasn't resentment at the bloody cycle. Even in those cycles, the Sabertooth Tigers had always been Northland's apex. There had been crises, but never had they been dethroned from Ortega.

Tascar clenched his teeth. The long history ended with his generation.

"I don't have the luxury to leisurely prepare for war. Isn't it possible the Sabertooth Tiger tribe has retaken Ortega already? If so, there's no need for a long detour."

"? That's unlikely. The former chieftain—my brother—fell in battle. The entire family—everyone—was wiped out. Now only Ragna and I remain of Ortega's bloodline. With no center to unite around, it's impossible to recover Ortega in just half a year."

Ran roughly rubbed his jaw with his palm.

'I didn't expect it to go smoothly, but this is so troublesome.'

Tascar's claim to be the only one who knows the sea route didn't sound like a lie. But it wasn't as if he could take Iel and barge into a barbarian den to check for himself.

No matter how he thought about it, no brilliant plan came to mind.

"Then how will you gather the scattered tribes?"

"Don't worry about that."

Tascar pointed with his foot at the middle section of the line he had drawn earlier.

"Aburota. This is the temporary rally point. Once they know I'm alive, the tribe will flock there."

Ran was calculating the route in his head while looking at the map when—

A scream rang out, like a bolt from the blue in clear sky.

The two men locked eyes and moved at once. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel-fire.net

They sprinted straight down the trail and soon reached the lakeshore.

The people from the safe zone spotted them and rushed over.

On the other side, three mysterious figures in black robes stood facing them.

Ran and Tascar focused on the attackers, each gripping their weapons.

They couldn't move recklessly.

The hooded attacker in the center was pinning down one of the safe zone people with his foot.

"You two. Such a bizarre pair."

The attacker tilted his head and spoke in Northlandic. His low voice echoed as if from a deep underground. His facial features were obscured by the hood, only a lush beard was visible.

"S-save me! Ran! Tascar!"

The man pinned underfoot shouted.

The attacker raised his sword hilt to his face with both hands. The blade was aimed at the man.

A sinister glint flashed from the shadow under the hood.

"Let not this pure land be defiled."

The sword skewered the man's nape.

For a moment, Ran doubted his ears. But his body moved before thought.

At the same time, Ran and Tascar rushed them, targeting the attackers on either side. Their teamwork was as if they'd always fought together.

The attackers weren't easy opponents. They deflected several of Ran and Tascar's strikes.

"In the name of Asriel, purge!"

The center attacker shouted first, the others echoed in turn.

The prayers sounded eerie in an unfamiliar language.

Ran struck down on an attacker's shoulder. As his ally fell, the center attacker charged at Ran.

Ran's and the attacker's swords crossed in an X. The two blades shuddered and rattled. Their strength was evenly matched. Ran stared intently at the blade pressed against Nachal.

'? This is an imperial sword.'

His gaze shifted to the shadow inside the hood. Above a thick beard was a prominent nose.

Ran spoke in the imperial tongue.

Ran deftly switched his grip on Nachal from two hands to one and punched the attacker in the face.

A dull thud echoed in the hood as the attacker's head snapped back. Ran then slashed at his lower half. Blood splattered into the lake. The attacker fell.

The now-unmasked attacker roared like a beast. His lower face was covered with beard, but above, his scalp was completely bald.

Almost at the same time, tascar took down his opponent.

"Why are the descendants of Dakir! Why are you shouting that name—!!"

Tascar grabbed the bald attacker by the collar and shook him violently, veins bulging in his eyes.

Ran methodically stabbed Nachal through the other two fallen attackers, making sure of the job. His gaze remained fixed on Tascar.

Neither could easily calm down.

"? So the words of the one were true. Is the day of genesis upon us?"

The bald attacker muttered. Bubbling blood clung to his beard.

With the battle over, the safe zone people cautiously approached. There was already a casualty upon arrival in Northland. Everyone's face was grim.

"Which tribe are you from! State your name!"

Tascar's voice seemed to go unheard. The bald attacker's hollow gaze swept the crowd before stopping on Iel.

"Destruction and creation shall be one."

The attacker brought his hand into his robes.

What came out, grasped in his trembling hand, was a Holy Church relic made of woven twigs.

"? Lord, I am coming to your side now."

The attacker's pupils glazed over. He bit his tongue.

Ran and Tascar stood frozen in place, unable to move.