Chapter 117 - The Snot-Nosed Dwarf

After resting for a day under the lord's hospitable care, the expedition headed straight into the gorge. It was one of the continent's forbidden regions, and the party was tense. Monsters began to welcome the visitors one by one.

ROAAAR!

"Stop it!"

"Raise a barrier!"

"It's poison!"

No one could call it easy, even out of politeness. But to Berge, there seemed to be few monsters.

'Their numbers have dropped considerably since then.'

There was a clear difference from when he had come to capture Bairif. Berge knew it was a sign that things were going according to plan.

'You're doing well.'

Bairif would be gathering some of the gorge's monsters and turning them into undead, just as Berge had advised. As their numbers grew, the demonic energy would be spread thinner and their quality would fall, but that was better than leaving the monsters scattered throughout the gorge to be picked off pointlessly.

'Anyway, I wonder what he prepared.'

The Third Prince had prepared something after hearing Hillen Cargill's advice. Yet even now, with the day upon them and the force inside the gorge, nothing unusual had appeared.

'A last resort?'

All that mattered was that it worked. There was a certain pleasure in looking forward to finding out what it was.

Since they were on their way to subjugate a dark mage, they never entirely let down their guard, even when the atmosphere relaxed a little. Berge, however, was irritated by the nuisance who had attached himself to their side.

Trista Jespine.

The man had openly admired Hillen Cargill from their first meeting. Ever since they entered the gorge, he had shamelessly stuck close and chattered away.

"Lord Hillen, I would like to hear more about The Beast's Tower."

"The Beast's Tower was much like a jungle or a rainforest. Some floors were humid, with clinging marshes, while others greeted us with dense woodland."

"If only I could have seen it for myself. Why wasn't I born a hero? What a pity. Ah, were the demonic creatures beasts, as one would expect?"

"Indeed."

"What was it like when you slew the Demon King?"

"The Beast Demon King was cunning. He exploited our knowledge of their rules, leaving only a minimum of demonic creatures on the lower floors and gathering all his strength at the summit."

"Good heavens. And then?"

"We lost."

"... Huh?"

"We suffered a crushing defeat, lost half our forces, and barely escaped. The scars the Demon King gave me then are still on my body."

Trista blinked.

"... But didn't The Beast's Tower fall?"

"We brought it down on our second attempt."

"Ah, now I remember. Akan's lawless rab—no, its royal army mobilized, and a second hero's journey was assembled in no time."

"Yes, the timing was excellent. A Demon King's tower cannot be restored immediately. Though our first hero's journey failed, we had inflicted considerable damage..."

Trista had been about to insult Akan, but changed his wording after glancing at Roselle. Hillen continued speaking, while Roselle turned away from the prince's gaze and snorted.

"You'd think that bastard did everything himself. Whose fault was the failure in the first place?"

"It wasn't Hillen's fault."

"Taking his side because you're on the same team?"

"I'm simply stating a fact."

It had been Hillen's fault. Had he held out a little better against Drakson, the defeat would not have been quite so disastrous.

But so what? Berge disliked the sight of a smug Roselle Charnt more than he valued telling the truth.

"Halt."

It happened then. The vanguard stopped, and a flag went up.

"What is it?"

"There's something up ahead."

The murmuring grew louder. Something stood ahead of them, blocking the route through the gorge.

Knights.

An order of knights.

A force over a hundred strong.

Yet they lacked the house insignia knights ought to bear. It had been deliberately removed.

"..."

The Third Prince stifled a groan. They were not alone. Behind the knightly order, hundreds of soldiers blocked the gorge's path. None wore imperial uniforms, and every face was covered.

"Who do you think they are?"

"Hard to say. Frankly, all three of the other imperial contenders are suspects."

The First Prince, the Second Prince, and the First Princess were all perfectly capable of this.

"Step in if necessary. The Third Prince must earn the greatest distinction. We have no time to waste here."

"Their strength is not to be underestimated."

"I fed you two Demon Kings, and you're still spouting bullshit about being weak?"

"I did secure one on my own..."

"Not with your skills, you didn't. Who did you sacrifice?"

"..."

Even while Berge and Hillen exchanged whispered banter, the Third Prince's army kept moving. As the distance closed, the knights formed a shield wall and the archers aimed their bows.

"Who are you?"

The Third Prince halted his troops. A knight stepped out from the opposing force, his face completely hidden by his visor.

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."

"To meet me? You've even altered your voice, so I suppose we can call this our first meeting. Do you not know what a grave affront it is to conceal your face before a member of the imperial family?"

"Circumstances leave us no choice. I ask for your understanding."

"You have it. Now move aside."

"Circumstances prevent us from complying with that request as well. Again, I ask for your understanding."

The Third Prince glared at him. Unperturbed, the knight held up his fingers.

"We have no wish to harm you, Your Highness. Only three days. We ask that you remain here with us for three days."

"You mean to tell me not to carry out the expedition?"

"We merely ask that you take your time."

Bullshit.

The gorge was vast and broad, with a fairly complicated network of branches extending in every direction. But the people assembled here were no ordinary people. They were imperial royalty, their loyal retainers, and the elite troops of each house. Three days was more than enough for them to establish a substantial lead over anyone following behind.

"Do you think I will meekly agree?"

"If you will not, we must block your passage until you do."

"Attacking imperial royalty is treason. Furthermore, I am carrying out the command of His Imperial Majesty. Exterminating nine generations of your family would not suffice."

"There are only monsters here."

"Who is it?"

"I don't understand your question."

"My eldest brother? My second brother? Or my sister?"

"I still don't understand."

"So you want me to take that helmet off myself and find out."

"I sincerely hope you will not. Surely that would benefit neither of us?"

"We shall see about that."

Martin turned his horse and returned to his own lines, immediately convening a council.

"Who do you think sent them?"

"They are too exceptional to be mercenaries. Those are well-trained regular troops."

"Then it must be my eldest brother or my sister."

Martin frowned. The Second Prince would have been preferable. When undertaking something, he liked to employ mercenaries rather than act directly. It was no slight against mercenaries, but they were comparatively easier to deal with than a noble house's army.

"Is there another route?"

"We could go around, but it would delay us considerably."

"They've boxed us in."

They had blocked his route with exquisite precision. His only options were to break through or helplessly waste three days.

"We need to know for certain who they are..."

"They are most likely one of the Lion orders."

The lion was the emblem of House Osrian. The White Lion, Black Lion, and Red Lion Knights, all bearing lions as their symbols, were themselves symbols of the ducal house.

"What makes you say that?"

"I cannot gauge the limits of the knight who spoke with Your Highness."

At Baron Bayrif's words, everyone stifled a groan. If that knight surpassed the baron who commanded House Aincheil's finest knightly order, that left only the Lion orders.

"We must break through regardless."

Hillen raised a hand to speak.

"Wasting three days here means abandoning the competition."

"And how are we to bear the losses?"

"This is a campaign against dark mages. Losses are inevitable."

"Mere dark mages..."

"Baron Otto. The targets of this expedition are by no means 'mere' dark mages. If they were, I would have swept them all away myself, without troubling His Highness."

"... Ahem."

"He's right."

Roselle Charnt nodded in agreement, and the baron's face tightened further.

"Lord Hillen."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Can you defeat that knight?"

"I am Hillen Cargill."

"That inspires confidence."

"I trusted you like that and ended up ruined. Remember?"

Roselle whispered with a bright smile. Fortunately, no one but Hillen heard her.

"Please consider where we are."

"Of course. I don't like those bastards either. How dare they block my way?"

She called out to Martin.

"Your Highness? If you wish, I can melt the lot of them with my flames."

"Thank you."

Martin considered for a moment, then summoned a nobleman.

"Baronet Cromwell."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"We must use what we prepared."

"Your Highness?"

Baronet Cromwell's eyes widened.

"Was that not prepared to deal with the undead?"

Martin had secretly ordered Cromwell to prepare it as a precaution.

"We have Lord Hillen and Lady Roselle for the demonic creatures. It is better to entrust heroes with undead and dark mages than with humans. Nothing would be more wasteful than exhausting them against those men."

"... Yes. As you command."

"Your Highness, what have you prepared?"

Hillen asked Trista, with whom he had become somewhat friendly. Trista smiled.

"You will see. I can hardly wait to see their dismay."

The soldiers in the Third Prince's lines began to bustle about.

* * *

"... Good heavens. I never thought I'd see those here as well."

Berge was genuinely impressed.

"Was this not your intention, Master Pale?"

"I had nothing to do with it. Besides, I don't have any particular feelings about them. I'm not the one obsessed with those things."

"True enough."

Granada nodded.

The Third Prince stationed his knights at the front to block the enemy's view and brought out a great many things behind them.

Cannons. Mana cannons that fired shells formed from processed mana. A full hundred of them.

"What do you think, Lord Hillen? A hundred mana cannons should easily sweep away their front line."

"They certainly should, Your Highness, but why mana cannons?"

"My brother gave it considerable thought after hearing your advice. They are one of the surest ways to deal with undead, aren't they?"

"Indeed they are."

There were three sure ways to deal with undead: erase the demonic energy itself with dimensional interference, burn them all with fire, or smash them so thoroughly that nothing remained to rise again.

In that sense, mana cannons were equipment that could eliminate undead more reliably than anything else. Their enormous explosions burned everything while shattering it beyond the recovery of even a fragment.

Most unfortunately, this time they would be aimed not at their intended undead targets, but at fellow imperials.

Hillen hurried over to Martin.

"Is this all right?"

"What is?"

"They are undoubtedly knights of the ducal house."

"You're even worrying about me now."

"You must remain safe if we are to defeat the Demon King of Erjest, mustn't you?"

"Quite right. And save Kaede."

Martin gave a short laugh.

"It is fine. They are brigands who cannot even reveal their own house. Traitors attempting to murder a member of the imperial family, too. If they die, they have no one to appeal to."

Once they concealed their identities, no one could take issue with their deaths.

"My brother is not that naive."

"Even so, there are limits. Aren't we all part of the same Empire?"

Even with the emperor's tacit approval, this went too far. Surely everyone would think so.

"Several years ago, I joined a campaign against the monsters of Arkaz. My brothers and sister were there as well."

The justification had been the same as this time: noblesse oblige. Naturally, it had been a competition.

"How do you think it ended?"

"The campaign succeeded."

"It did. But I lost more than half the troops the marquis's house sent to help me. I was caught in none other than my eldest brother's scheme."

He had been unable to distinguish himself. The other three took all the credit, and all the fame. That had been the decisive moment when the Third Prince began falling behind.

"I, too, thought I ought to respect certain limits. We belonged to the same Empire, after all."

But that was not the case. After the imperial family returned from their mission, the emperor met with them individually—and mocked Martin.

"He said I lacked resolve, and called me a fool for not fighting harder."

At first, Martin thought it was simply because he had failed to earn any real distinction. It was not.

"Later, I understood what he meant. His Majesty was using the imperial succession as a pretext to keep the nobles in check."

"..."

Hillen barely stopped himself from blurting out, "That's fucking insane."

"As in any country, I suppose, there has always been a struggle for power between the emperor and the nobles."

"... Even so."

"You must not forget that His Majesty took the throne by killing all his siblings. That is why he is more wary of his subjects' power than anyone."

"Surely the nobles would not simply sit back and take it?"

"I thought the same, but given that there have been no problems so far, I suspect they have found some compromise of their own."

Only those involved would know the details, of course.

"Hmm."

Hillen swallowed. To keep his subjects in check, the emperor stood by while his children sought one another's lives—and the nobles accepted it.

'Isn't this country completely insane?'

How had it become an empire, and how did it maintain its current power and influence?

"Anyway, to return to the matter at hand, we will shatter their front line with the mana cannons, then charge and sweep them all away. That should not be too difficult for you, should it?"

"... Of course not."

"I am counting on you."

"I will not disappoint Your Highness."

Hillen gripped his sword with grim resolve.

* * *

Callum, captain of the White Lion Knights, watched the Third Prince's lines gravely. With all their bustling activity, they did not seem likely to withdraw easily.

"Prepare for battle."

"Will they attack us?"

"Would you back down if you were the Third Prince?"

"I would not."

The Third Prince was already lagging behind the other imperial contenders. If he achieved nothing here, he would likely lose even the emperor's remaining interest.

Come what may, the Third Prince had to break through them. Their own mission, meanwhile, was to delay him by any means, whatever response he chose.

"They have the White Hawk Knights, the Blue Hawk Mage Corps, Hillen Cargill, and Roselle Charnt."

"Then we have no chance in a head-on battle."

The White Hawks and Blue Hawks—the forces of House Aincheil—did not frighten him. But they could not afford to underestimate the two heroes and their raiding parties. Roselle Charnt's wide-area fire magic was especially renowned, and he had no idea where the limits lay for Hillen Cargill, who had killed two Demon Kings.

"I will take Hillen Cargill. When they charge, put up a reasonable defense and then retreat. Do not forget that our only goal is to buy time."

"Yes, sir."

Callum's hands itched. He was a born knight, and fighting a powerful opponent always set his heart racing.

'Only a handful of heroes in history have slain two Demon Kings. When else would I get to fight such a man?'

He slowly drew his sword and watched their formation again.

That was when it happened.

"They're moving."

"Get ready."

He expected the knights to begin their charge. But they did not charge. The knights and soldiers at the front spread apart, revealing something enormous between them.

"... Fuck."

"Good heavens."

It was a barrel. An enormous cannon.

"... They have some idea who we are, and they mean to sweep us away with mana cannons?"

Countless cannons aimed their muzzles at the White Lion Knights and the duke's troops. This meant they intended to finish them utterly. It was unlike the normally mild-mannered Third Prince.

But there was no time to think it over.

"Mages! Raise barriers immediately! We are retreating now!"

Callum shouted urgently. But before his cry could reach everyone—

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The cannons opened fire. The mana cannons spat flame.

"Martin, you crazy son of a—!"

A rain of shells engulfed the ducal house's private troops.

* * *

Mana cannons were a product of magical engineering. They used mana stones to power their ignition and fired shells formed from mana. Combining the acceleration of firing with the detonation of condensed mana, they possessed destructive power that could never be dismissed.

Yet they were rarely used because they were impractical.

A mana cannon might sound like a heavenly weapon, but the first to develop them had been the dexterous dwarves. Their smelting, metallurgy, and methods of engraving magical circuits far surpassed human capabilities, reaching a level humans could not hope to match.

The mana cannons those dwarves created might be commonplace, everyday weapons to them, but to humans, they were bombs that could explode at any moment and annihilate their own allies.

And there were a full hundred of those mana cannons. All hundred muzzles spewed flames toward the enemy at once.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Explosions thundered. The earth overturned. Horses screamed, and soldiers were reduced to pulp, leaving not even bodies behind.

Listening to the savage symphony of destruction, Berge offered a brief assessment.

"They're nowhere near as good as Logger's."

Their loading speed, destructive power, projectile speed—everything.

"Well, Logger is one of the finest craftsmen even in the dwarven kingdom."

Granada corrected his impression.

"Is that so?"

"It is."

Then it happened.

BOOOOM!

"Aaaaargh!"

"Help!"

Another explosion rang out. Not from the enemy lines, but their own. The screams belonged to the soldiers firing the mana cannons. One of the cannons had failed to withstand the shock of firing and exploded.

"Well, well. They really are pulling out all the stops."

Berge snorted.

"Still, isn't that a bit much? Nothing the snot-nosed dwarf made ever did that."

"As I was saying, that's..."

Granada sighed and abandoned his attempt to explain. Frankly, judging only by the way Logger acted in the tower, even he thought the man was just Crazy Dwarf Number One.