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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 244: Burned Church (1)

Chapter 244: Burned Church (1)

The‌​‍ Great Mother’s eyes,‌ with their heavily​ drooping eyelids, were‍‍‍ fixed on Vlad.​​‍

So‍ was the sharp‌ needle she held.‌

Sizzle-‌‍‌

“Ugh!”​‌⁠

The‍ dense smell of‍⁠ burning flesh filled‍‌‍ the air, mingling⁠​ with the cigar⁠ smoke the Great⁠⁠ Mother exhaled.

Every‌‌‌ time the hot‌⁠​ needle she held‌⁠ pierced Vlad’s skin,‍⁠‌ the air in⁠⁠ the room grew‍ heavier, and the⁠ thick smoke became‌ even denser.

“…I’ll‍ say it again,‌⁠ this is a curse.”

Each⁠‌ stitch the Great‍ Mother made left​‍‌ a lightning pattern​ on Vlad’s skin.‌

The⁠ pattern that started⁠ on the back​ of Vlad’s hand‌‍‍ soon climbed up‌⁠​ to his shoulder,‍‌ covering his left‌ arm.

“A‌​ curse that introduces⁠​‌ impurities into another’s​‌ world. Originally, we‌ magicians devised it‌‍ to fight knights.”⁠⁠‍

Although‍‌ he was trying​​​ to stay composed,​ the pain was⁠​ already clearly visible​​​ on Vlad’s face.‌​⁠

The​ tattoo the Great⁠​⁠ Mother of the⁠‌‍ Ruga tribe was⁠​‌ inscribing wasn’t just⁠⁠‍ engraved on his​‍​ skin, but on‍⁠ his very soul.⁠

Vlad’s​⁠‌ face was already‍​ covered in cold‌‍​ sweat, the pain‍​​ far more intense‌ than he had​‍ expected.

“And⁠‍‌ I suppose you​ already know what‍​‌ those impurities are,​​ don’t you?”

Seeing‍‍ Vlad nod silently,⁠​⁠ perhaps from the‍‍‍ pain, the Great‌‍‍ Mother set aside‍‍⁠ the pipe she‍‌​ held.

Well,⁠ there’s no way⁠⁠‍ you wouldn’t know.⁠

Because‍⁠ there was already​ someone within Vlad​ who had experienced​⁠​ the secret arts‍‌​ of the Ruga‌‌ clan.

“Please,‌⁠ don’t use this‍ curse to deeply⁠​ wound another’s world.”‌

Whoosh-!​‍

With⁠ those words, the⁠ Great Mother expelled⁠ the mysterious smoke‍⁠ from her lungs​‌ onto Vlad’s left‌ arm.

The​‍⁠ smoke, infused with‍​ the Great Mother’s⁠‌‌ sincerity, seeped into‌ Vlad’s arm, completing⁠‌​ the drawing.

“…Because⁠⁠​ no matter how​⁠⁠ deeply you stab‌⁠‍ others, in the‌⁠​ end, the world⁠⁠ that will be‌⁠‍ hurt is your‌⁠ own.”

The​​‌ tattoo, which at‌⁠ first had only​ been an outline,⁠‌‌ began to fill​ with color.

The​⁠ pattern of black⁠ lightning grew sharper‍ and clearer.

Long‌‌ ago, the mystery‌⁠‍ of the Ruga⁠‌ clan, said to⁠‌‍ have been used⁠​⁠ to mark the​ most perfect dragon,‍‌​ was now entirely‌‍ black and sharp,‍ like the lightning‍‍ that first bonded​‍ Kihano and Vlad.⁠

***​⁠

Numerous‌‌‌ soldiers moved, leaving⁠ behind the barren​ land visible in⁠‌ the distance.

These‌⁠ were the imperial​⁠​ and central forces‌​⁠ gathered in the⁠‌‍ capital, Brigantes, advancing⁠ toward Namarka, the‍⁠ city of outlaws.⁠

Unlike‌‍​ when they pursued‍‍​ Vlad, the central​ army, which had‍‍ now grown to​ tens of thousands,‍‍⁠ continued advancing north‌‍​ without stopping.

“Commander.‍​ It’s reported that‍​ Count Gaidar has‍ just passed through⁠​​ the Western Gate.”⁠⁠

“…Really?”‌​

Dragon​ Blood Duke Sarnus,​ the commander-in-chief of​⁠ the Northern Expeditionary‍⁠‍ Force, widened his​‍⁠ eyes in intrigue‍ at Mirshea’s report‍ from the side.‍

“It⁠ was a fortress⁠‍ blocking a narrow‍ gorge. Has he‍‌ already passed through?”‍

“Well…”‍‌

As​ Sarnus said, Fort‌ Holland, which blocked​‍‌ the west, was‌ a natural fortress⁠​⁠ built along a narrow canyon.

Naturally,​​‍ passing through such​‍ terrain required many⁠⁠ sacrifices, but for​‍‍ some reason, Count‍ Gaidar, worth little​ more than half‍​⁠ a coin, had‌‌ managed to pass​‌‍ through very easily.‌

“It⁠‌‍ wasn’t Count Gaidar‍ who conquered it;​‌‌ Count Bayezid voluntarily‌‍ withdrew his troops.”‌‍‌

But​‌⁠ the brilliant achievement⁠​ of Count Gaidar‌⁠​ was nothing more​​⁠ than the empty​‌‌ shell Peter had‍ thrown away.

Sarnus’s⁠‍ gaze deepened upon⁠ hearing Mirshea’s report‌⁠‌ that Peter had​ voluntarily relinquished the‍‌ advantageous position.

“As‍ expected of the‌ Northern Fox. He‍‍‍ was prepared for​‌ any eventuality.”

Bayezid‌ and Baranov, one​‌ of the two‍​ pillars supporting the‍‍ North.

They‌‍ were certainly very​​ different from the‍ weaklings wielded by⁠ the Blood Dragon.​‍

“I⁠ had thought to‍ cut off their‍⁠ supply lines if⁠ necessary, but it⁠ seems that option⁠ is no longer​‌ available.”

No​⁠ matter how favorable​‍‍ the terrain, if​ you don’t have⁠‍ the means to⁠‍ hold it, it’s‍‌⁠ useless.

And⁠‌⁠ Peter already knew‍‌⁠ that for the​‌​ distant northern allies‍⁠‍ to fully control⁠ Fort Holland, they‌‌ would have to⁠ pay more in‌‍ costs than they⁠‍​ would gain in‌ benefits.

“We’ll‍‍‍ change course. From‍‌ now on, we’ll​ move along the‌‌‍ eastern route.”

Clicking‍‍ his tongue at‌‌‌ Peter’s refusal to‌ take the bait,‌​‌ Sarnus decided to​ abandon his original⁠ plan and execute‌​⁠ his second option.​‌‌

“We’ll‍ start by taking‌​ northern Maringen. After​​‍ securing that, we’ll​‍ head directly upwards.”⁠​

Not⁠⁠​ northwest toward Bayezid,⁠ but northeast toward‌ Timur, the Iron‌ Duke.

Now​ that Bayezid was‌⁠ firmly tied down⁠⁠⁠ by the Golden⁠ Duke and Gaidar,‍​ the army led​​⁠ by the Dragon‌‌ Blood Duke had‌ decided to march​ straight to Bastopol,​‌​ the heart of‌​ the North, where​ the Iron Duke⁠⁠‍ resided.

“…But‌​ father, no matter​‌ how many we‍​ are, dividing our​⁠ forces doesn’t seem‍‌ like a wise‍‍ choice.”

Seeing‌‌ the Dragulia banner​​ suddenly lifted, Mirshea⁠‌ began to admonish​ Sarnus, concerned.

Though​ it was part‌‌ of the plan,⁠‌ it was obvious⁠⁠​ that splitting the​​ unified front into​ two would place‌‌ a heavy burden‍ on the expeditionary‍⁠⁠ force.

“There​⁠ will be great⁠‌ losses.”

“…”‌‌‍

It‌‍ might be possible‌‌ to end the‌‌ war quickly, but⁠ it was a choice that inevitably​‍ involved significant sacrifices.​⁠

However,⁠‌​ there wasn’t the⁠ slightest hesitation in‌‌ Sarnus’s voice as⁠ he prepared to‍‍ push tens of⁠ thousands of troops​ into the cold,​‍ snowy fields.

“I​ know, son.”

He​ simply whispered softly‌ to his son​ with the voice‍‍‌ of a fierce‍‌ dragon.

“Of‍‍‍ course, many humans‍‍ will die.”

What‌ were these men⁠​ marching north for?⁠⁠​

Were​⁠ they there to​ subdue the North,‌ which had rebelled‌⁠‍ against the Empire,‍‌‍ or were they​‌ mere puppets moved‌‌ by the dragon’s‌⁠ breath in his‍​ quest for perfection?⁠

“Don’t‍⁠​ forget, Mirshea. The⁠‌⁠ victory we seek⁠‌ lies elsewhere.”

“…Yes.”‍‍‌

The⁠⁠ answer to that‌​‌ was found in​⁠ the banner now​ flying in front‍⁠‌ of Sarnus.

The⁠ Dragulia banner had‌ a slightly different‍ design from the‍ original flag that​‌‌ depicted the beheading‍ of a dragon.‍​

“This⁠ father wants to‌ show you the‍⁠‍ world of dragons​​ as it was‍‍‍ in its perfect‌​⁠ form in ancient‌ times.”

Behind​‌‍ Sarnus’s head, as⁠ he smiled kindly‍ at his son,⁠⁠‍ a banner flew.‍

The⁠‍‍ Dragulia banner, now‍‌‍ standing proudly before‍​​ the imperial standard,‌‍​ was emblazoned not​‍‌ with its former‌ tattered appearance but‌‌ with the enormous⁠‍⁠ wings of a golden dragon.

****​⁠

It‍​ was a room​‌ filled with pure,​ white sunlight.

A room so bright⁠‍ you could feel⁠ the softness of⁠ the fluffy quilt​ just by lying‍ in it.

However,‌‌​ Vlad, who should​‍‍ have been lying​‍ there, was instead‍​‍ sitting at a small desk, intently⁠⁠‌ studying the maps⁠‍ laid out in‍‍‍ front of him.‌⁠

“And‌‍‍ now?”

“…Here.”‍​‌

Vlad’s‍​ voice sounded somewhat‍‍⁠ irritated as an‍‌⁠ old finger pointed‍‍⁠ to a spot‌​​ on the map.⁠​

As‍‌ the circle on‌‌‍ the map expanded‍ with each indication,​‌ Vlad’s brows furrowed⁠ more and more.‍⁠‌

“You’re‌​⁠ not lying this‍⁠ time, are you?”⁠

“I’ve​‌ never lied to‌ you, little brother.”⁠​‌

“Go‍⁠‍ to hell.”

Vlad⁠​ began to smirk​⁠⁠ sarcastically at the‍‌‌ voice of Radu‍⁠ next to him.​⁠‍

“How​‍ is it that‌‍​ someone like you​‌‌ got caught while⁠ trying to escape?”‌

“…”​

Today’s​‌ sunlight streaming through⁠‍ the window made⁠‍ Vlad’s blonde hair‌​‍ shine intensely.

But‍‌ it was the⁠‍‍ deep blue of​⁠‌ Vlad’s eyes that​‍⁠ weighed more heavily⁠‌‌ on Radu than‌‌​ the blonde hair‍‌ he lacked.

Since​​ the battle, the‍​⁠ blue in Vlad’s‍⁠‌ eyes had deepened,‍​ reminding Radu of​‍ their father, whom​ he had feared‌⁠ so much.

“If‌​ you were going​‌ to leave, you⁠ should’ve done it⁠‍​ quietly. Why did​ you try to‍‌ steal Noir?”

“…Because‌‍ he’s fast.”

Even‍‍ thinking about it‌‍ again, the aged⁠ Radu stood helplessly‍⁠ next to Vlad,​⁠ who laughed as‍‍ if it were‌ absurd.

He⁠ had wrinkled skin⁠⁠‌ around his neck,‌‍ where a black‌‍​ thorn tattoo was‌ marked.

Vlad‍ smiled coldly as‍​ he looked at‌ Radu, who bore‌‍ the same golden‍‍⁠ mark as their​‍ father.

“…We‍‍ made a promise‍⁠ back then, remember?‌‌ That you would‍ help until we‌​ destroyed the Order​‌​ of Dragons.”

In​ the outlaw city‌​ filled with smoke,​⁠ Radu had drunk⁠‍ Vlad’s blood and‍ made that promise.‍⁠⁠

Stop​‍​ the Dragon Slayer​ Knights who were‌‌ currently attacking the⁠ Ruga tribe.

The‍⁠⁠ oath marked in⁠⁠ the blood he⁠‌⁠ swallowed still coursed​​​ through Radu’s veins,‌‍‌ and he still​‍ wanted a fair​ reward for it.‌⁠​

“My‌‍‌ blood isn’t that⁠ cheap, is it?”‌

Radu⁠‍‌ only nodded as​ he looked at⁠‌​ Vlad, who smiled⁠​⁠ calmly.

Indeed,⁠ as Vlad had‌ said, the contract​ they made in​‍ Namarka had not​ yet been fulfilled.⁠‍⁠

The‍⁠ knights led by​⁠⁠ the oldest dragon​ still roamed the‍⁠‍ continent, and Radu’s⁠ fair price had‍⁠ yet to be‌⁠‍ properly paid.

Drip-‍​ Drip-

Bright‍‍ red drops of​ blood began to‌‍‍ fall from the​‌ tip of Vlad’s‍​ finger, which had⁠ been lightly cut​‍​ with a dagger.‌

Radu‍⁠ swallowed hard, unconsciously,‍‌ as he watched‍⁠ the vivid colors‍ slowly seep into‍⁠⁠ the teacup.

“…Where⁠⁠ is this?”

“Where?”⁠‌⁠

“This‌ place you just​⁠​ pointed out.”

Vlad‌​⁠ said as he‍‌ unfolded the two‍ maps he held.⁠⁠⁠

One⁠​ was a map‌ marked by Jager.⁠⁠‍

The​​ other, the one​ Radu had just‍ indicated.

Vlad,⁠ who had been‍‍​ tracking Ramashthu’s whereabouts‌‌‌ based on testimonies⁠⁠‌ from knights who⁠ had encountered evil⁠‌​ beings, had finally‌ found a place​‌ where their testimonies‍​ overlapped.

“Achiuk.”‍

Achiuk,‍⁠ one of the‌ villages under the⁠‌ Barony of Salonta.⁠‌⁠

However,​‍ this village, now‍ abandoned, was only‌‍​ a week further‌‍ east of Dobrechi,⁠ the town he​⁠ had visited previously.‌‌‌

“Yes,​‌‍ I remember. It‌‌ was there that‍ we met the​ dark sorcerers.”

Radu‍ Dragulia, the son​‌⁠ of the Dragon‍ Blood Duke, had​‌⁠ once been powerful​ enough to command⁠​ Dragulia’s army in‌⁠ the northern city⁠⁠ of Moshiam.

Even​⁠ though he was⁠ now in such‍​ a pitiful state,​​​ the information he​​ had dealt with⁠‌​ back then would‍ still be etched⁠‍‌ in his mind.⁠⁠

“It⁠ was there that⁠‍‌ we agreed to‍‌ cooperate. At the‌ time, the alliance‌‍ was clear.”

“Can‌⁠​ you guide me⁠ there?”

“Y-yes.​ I’ve been to‍​ that church once.”​​

At‍ the mention of‍​​ the word “church,”‌‍⁠ Vlad’s eyes began⁠ to gleam.

However,⁠⁠‌ the bloodthirsty dragon​⁠ didn’t notice the‌ intensity in Vlad’s‌​ gaze and continued⁠‌ speaking hastily, answering‍​ questions that hadn’t‌ even been asked.‌

“A​​ ruined church. A completely burned village,‍ with the church‌ standing in the⁠‌‍ middle.”

“…”⁠‍‍

“It’s​‌‍ been uninhabited for​ decades. Without a guide, it’ll be‌‍ hard to find.”‌⁠⁠

A church standing alone⁠‍‍ in a burned‌ village.

Vlad‍‌​ silently folded the‌‌⁠ map he was‌ holding, remembering a scene that felt⁠‍ familiar even though​​⁠ he hadn’t been‍ there.

“Drink.”‍

The‌​ old Radu quickly‌⁠⁠ drank from the​ cup of tea​‍​ as soon as⁠ Vlad permitted him.‌⁠⁠

Though​ the mark of⁠​‌ the oath on⁠​‍ his neck began⁠‌ to fade, Vlad‌⁠‍ didn’t stay to​ see it as‌‍ he walked out‍⁠‌ of the room.‌

[I⁠‌​ can feel it.‌⁠‌ I think that’s​‌ probably the right‍‌​ place.]

The‌‌​ burned village of​‍ Achiuk. Now a ruined place where⁠ no one lives.‌

As‍‌ Vlad thought about⁠⁠⁠ the scene there,‌ he felt as​‍‍ if he could‌ hear children singing​​‌ in his ears.​‌

“Yes.​ I think so,‍ too.”

Through‌​ the window, a bright corridor came‍‌​ into view.

The‍ children of Ausurin‌‌ could now run​⁠ and play freely,​ without worry.

Vlad⁠⁠ paused for a moment as he‍‍​ watched the elves​ and Ruga children‍‍‍ playing together, unconcerned​ about their race.​‌​

“…This‍‌‌ time, I will⁠​‌ finish this.”

It⁠​‌ was said that‌⁠⁠ the church, long‍‌ burned down, had​ been built by⁠‍‌ a noble nun.‍‍‍

The‍ name of the​ woman who held‍ many orphans with‍‍‌ no place to⁠ go in her‍ arms was that‌‌ of a saint⁠⁠ recognized by the‍‍​ Vatican. Tramasu.

Vlad‌⁠ looked at the⁠ tattoo on the‍‍ back of his‍​ hand and softly​ murmured her name.⁠‍

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