Star-Embracing Swordmaster — Chapter 45: Moonless night (2)

Chapter 45: Moonless night (2)

Deathworm.‌⁠

One‍ of the remnants⁠ of a fallen⁠‍ dragon.

A monster that usually resides underground and‌⁠ only surfaces occasionally‍⁠‌ to breathe.

Despite‌‌ its enormous and⁠‌ horrifying appearance, its⁠⁠ basic sustenance is‌‍ the earth’s energy,‍‍⁠ derived from minerals‍⁠⁠ and fertile soil‍‌ underground.

“Something’s wrong! Deathworms are not supposed to‌ eat flesh.”

However,‍‌ what was unfolding right in front⁠‍⁠ defied the common‌ wisdom of the⁠⁠ world.

Hiiiiing.⁠

Kwah‌‍ wah wah wah!⁠

Wild⁠⁠⁠ horses scatter in‍‍⁠ all directions as⁠ the Deathworms attack.‌

The‌ pitiful cries of‍ the horses are consumed by the sticky blood.

The‌⁠‌ viscous body of the Deathworm, stained‍ with blood, seemed⁠⁠ corrosive.

“…Everyone‌ on horses!”

After⁠ assessing the situation, Rutiger shouted to⁠⁠ his knights.

Whether the situation before‌ him was unusual⁠ or not wasn’t⁠ the point.

What matters is that‌⁠ you are where⁠‌ you should be,‍‍⁠ doing what you‍‌⁠ should do.

That‍ is the duty‌ of those who‌‍ have been given‌ a mission.

“Protect‍‌ the pilgrims! They‌‌ must be rescued!”‍⁠

Before‌⁠ Rutiger could finish‌ his sentence, the‌ knights moved with⁠ horrifying speed, and⁠ Vlad swiftly rode‌‍ to the top⁠ of the dalguzi.‍

“Charge!”‍‌

“Charge!‌⁠ Follow Lord Rutiger!”⁠

At⁠ Rutiger’s command, Bayezid’s‌‌ knights began to‌ gallop down the⁠ green hill.

To‌‍ the hellish scene⁠⁠‌ below, dyed red‍ by the blood⁠ of the wild horses.

To‌ save the pilgrims,‌ who were terrified‍‌⁠ and defenseless.

The‌‍ hooves of the⁠ knights’ horses echoed⁠ vertiginously over the‌⁠ green and peaceful⁠ meadows, blending with‍ the cries of⁠ the Deathworms.

For‌‍ this moment, which⁠⁠ he didn’t know would happen, Fether‌ had sent his⁠⁠ son.

The‍ safe haven of‌ Gazo, prepared for‌⁠‍ any eventuality, now‌⁠ shone like the‌ Bayezid banner fluttering‌⁠ atop a mast.‌

“…He’s‌ very young, only a few days⁠‌ old!”

Dorothea⁠‍‍ hadn’t stopped to⁠ observe the Deathworm‍ as she galloped‍ on horseback.

She‍‌ knew exactly what‍⁠ her role was.‍‌⁠

“It’s‌‌ not big enough,⁠ and its skin hasn’t hardened yet!”‍

Dorothea’s‌ shout made Rutiger turn his head‌‌‌ to look at‌‍ the Deathworm.

The Deathworm, which continued⁠‍ to chew and‌ devour the horse‌ corpses without pause,⁠‌ wasn’t as large as she had‍⁠ said, and, more‍ importantly, it had‌ pink, unhardened skin.⁠

It‍ was a young individual who hadn’t‌ developed the Deathworm’s‌ characteristic of having⁠ a tough shell.‌⁠

“…”⁠‌

While‍⁠‌ Rutiger rode on‍ horseback and checked‌‍ the situation, Vlad⁠‍ observed from his perch in the‌‍ changing lunar landscape.‌

The‌ only difference between⁠‍ him and Dorothea⁠‌ was that, instead‍⁠ of Deathworms, the‌ boy was watching‌ a herd of wild horses screaming.⁠‌

[I‍⁠ sense a spirit,⁠ they are not⁠⁠ ordinary horses.]

“Spirits…”‍

The⁠ white serpent he‍⁠ saw in Deirmar.‌⁠

Vlad’s‌ mind returned to‌‍ the being that‍‌ had granted him⁠⁠ the favor.

[I‍ will show you‍⁠‌ my world.]

“Okay.”‍⁠⁠

A loud noise drowned out the boy’s‌ faint response.

“After…”

The boy lowered his‍⁠ posture as if‌ praying and closed‍ his right eye.⁠‍

“…”‌

He⁠ opened his left‍‍ eye to the‍‌‍ world of voices.‍⁠

Heeeeeeeee-!⁠⁠

A world of vivid‌‌ colors.

The‌‌ world of the⁠⁠ voice, which seemed‌ to have a hundred colors more⁠‌ than the boy’s‍‍ world, reflected the‍⁠ figures of the⁠ horses.

A herd of wild‍ horses, devoured and‌ trampled, falling to⁠ the ground.

White‌⁠ smoke like mist‌‌‌ rose from the‌ neighing horses.

“What⁠‍⁠ is that?”

Glowing⁠ white smoke.

But it’s so pale‍ that it forms⁠ nothing, disperses, and‌ dies.

Vlad‍‍ didn’t know why,‌‍ but he felt‌⁠⁠ sorry for them.

[Look‍‌ at the black‌‍ horse.]

‘…’‌⁠

Following‍ the voice’s advice,‍‍‌ Vlad turned to‌ look at the‍⁠ jet-black horse that‍ had just made‌ eye contact with‍‍ him.

It‍‍ strutted as if‍ it were the‌ leader of the⁠‌‌ pack, trying to‌‌ attract the Deathworm’s‍ attention.

But⁠ despite its pitiful‍‍ gestures, the Deathworm‍‌ didn’t even look‍‌‍ at it, just⁠ feasting on the⁠‍ sweet flesh.

Vlad‌ bit his lip⁠‍ as the scene echoed his.

“Horns?”‍

said the voice, and⁠ when Vlad turned‍ to look, he‌ saw them.

For‍⁠ the other horses,‌ it was just⁠ a fine mist,‍ but for him,‍ it was a shape.

[I‌ think there is‌ some kind of‍‌ blood in those‌ horses.]

White‍ horns.

In‌ the middle of⁠‍‌ the forehead of‌‍⁠ the black horse⁠ was a white⁠‌ horn that floated‍ like the moon.‌

The‍‍⁠ scent of lemons‍ from the day⁠‍ wafted in the⁠ boy’s armor as‍ he stared at⁠ the faint horn.‍

***

“And‌ that?”

Dorothea’s‌ gaze caught something⁠ as she galloped⁠ on horseback.

Something⁠‍ that shone on‌ the forehead of‍‌ the young Deathworm.‌

An‌ odd energy emanated‌‍⁠ from it, detectable‌‍⁠ only by a mage.

The‌ young deathworm responded⁠‌⁠ to it.

“Lord Rutiger! The deathworm‌‍ is awake!”

“Pilgrims!‍ It’s looking at⁠ the pilgrims!”

“…Damn‌‍ it!”

Suddenly.⁠‌

Time‌‌ is running out.⁠‍‌

Rutiger’s‍‌⁠ black eyes emitted⁠ a sharp gleam.⁠‍

“Dorothea,‌⁠ what are the‍ deathworms reacting to?”‌

As‌ a man of‍⁠ the mission and⁠‍ leader of the‌‍‌ group, Rutiger was‍ obligated to use his best judgment.‌‍‍

“The‌ deathworm has no‍‌ eyes or ears;⁠ it can only‌ sense ground vibrations.”⁠

“Find‍ a way to‍ lure that thing.‍‌ Dorothea!”

With⁠⁠ a quick hand‍ gesture, Rutiger divided⁠ the group of⁠ knights into two,‌ and with only⁠‌‌ a handful of⁠‍ knights leading them,‍ he rushed to the area where‌ the Deathworm was.⁠⁠

“Dismount,⁠ we’re running out⁠‌‌ of horses!”

At⁠ the knights’ shouts, Portly and Vlad⁠‌ quickly surrendered their‍‌ transport.

They‌ were right to‍‍‍ do so.

The‌‌‍ pilgrims would have‌‌ no way out‍‍ of this situation⁠ without the knights’‌ help.

But‌‌⁠ with a speed‍ that not even the wild horses‍‌ could match, the‍ Deathworm would not‌⁠ release its targets‌ once it had⁠⁠‍ them.

Rutiger had to address‍⁠ two issues simultaneously.‍‌

Kaaaaaah-!‌⁠

The‌ young Deathworm, which‍‌⁠ had been savoring‍‌⁠ the corpses of‍‍ the wild horses, leaned toward the‍ pilgrims with something⁠ shining on its‍⁠‍ forehead.

The‍‍ wild horses were‍⁠ fleeing, and the⁠ pilgrims were in‍ front of them.‌⁠

Everything the Deathworm wanted—or‌ anyone wanted—was there,‌ in front of it.

Kaaaaaah-!‍⁠

With a wild roar,‌ the Deathworm leaped⁠ toward the pilgrims.⁠

“Damn‌⁠⁠ it, why!”

“Run!”‍‍

I wonder why the‌ Deathworm, which moments⁠ ago was devouring‍‍ the wild horses,‍ suddenly becomes interested‍ in the pilgrims⁠‌ in front of‍ it.

But⁠ right now, it’s‍ more urgent to⁠ resolve the situation‍‌ than to analyze the consequences.

“Now!”⁠‌‍

At Rutiger’s command, the‍⁠‌ knights charged against‌⁠‌ the Deathworm.

While⁠⁠ the knights mingled⁠ with the herd‌ of wild horses⁠ and tried to‌ stop the advance‌‍ of the Deathworm,‌ Rutiger silently fumed‌ with rage.

Common‌⁠ sense was being⁠‌ challenged, and the⁠‌‍ situation was taking‍‍ a strange turn.‍‌‌

Surely⁠ there must be‌‍⁠ some artificial problem⁠‌ that had created this situation.

“How‌‌ dare you in⁠⁠ my father’s land…”⁠‍

The prestigious Bayezid of‌‍ the North.

The⁠ knight who had inherited his blood‌ entirely closed his‌‌ left eye.

***‍

In the distance, he‍‍‍ could see the‍‌ knights approaching the‌⁠ group of pilgrims, but it seemed⁠ there were too⁠ many horses to‍ move at once.‌⁠

“We’re⁠ in trouble!”

“…..”⁠⁠

Vlad‌⁠ and Portly, who⁠‌‌ had been stripped‌ of their horses‍ and halters, protected‌ Dorothea and watched⁠‍⁠ the situation from‍⁠ the hillside.

“Blondie and Chubby, distract‌ the worm!”

Dorothea’s‌‍‍ voice sounded behind⁠ them as they moved slightly.

Now⁠⁠ she was crouched‌‌ on the ground,⁠ creating a trace‌‍ that would allow‌‍ her to induce‌⁠ the Deathworm, as‍‍ Rutiger had said.⁠‍⁠

“Vibration,⁠ vibration, vibration, what‌‍ color was that⁠‍ trace…”

Small⁠‍‍ bottles spilled onto⁠‌ the ground.

They‌‍ were bottles containing‍⁠⁠ paint and other⁠ things, as if⁠ a painter were about to paint‍‍ a picture.

Dorothea‍ moved them, preparing⁠ her magic.

With‌ every tremor of⁠ her lips as‌‌‍ she sang softly,‍ with every touch⁠‌⁠ of her careful‌ hand grabbing a vial, the vials⁠⁠‌ on the ground⁠ shone, seeking their⁠ own colors.

Kwagagaga!

“What‍ the hell!”

Heat seized Vlad’s face,⁠⁠⁠ who had been‌⁠⁠ watching their preparations⁠ for a while.‌⁠

A fierce heat that⁠⁠ seemed to come⁠ from afar.

An‌‍ island of intensely condensed flames burned‌ the air around⁠⁠‌ it, along with‌ the Deathworm.

“Lord‌ Rutiger!”

Portly⁠ raised a hand⁠⁠ in surprise at the intensity of⁠ the impulse that⁠‌⁠ had reached them,‌ but Vlad could⁠⁠ only stare in‌⁠ astonishment at the⁠‍⁠ force threatening to‍ set his world‌ on fire.

It⁠ was a world‍⁠‌ far removed from‌ his own.

[It’s⁠‍‌ superficial. It wasn’t‍ prepared.]

But‌ the young Deathworm,⁠ even though it‍‌ didn’t have a tough outer shell⁠‌ yet, was tenaciously‍⁠ enduring.

Kaaaaaah-!⁠

Thud-thud-thud!‌⁠⁠

Rutiger’s‍⁠⁠ powerful blows only made it release⁠ a monotonous cry‍⁠ and hastily burrow‍ into the ground.‍

At⁠‌ least, it was young enough to‌ make even a small wound, which‌ was quite an‌ achievement.

[It’s‍⁠ strong; even the‌‌ best knight would‍ be unable to⁠⁠ face an enemy on the ground.]⁠

Apparently,‍‍ Rutiger’s blow was‌⁠⁠ not enough to‌ neutralize the Deathworm⁠‍ at once.

A moment of silence.⁠

And⁠ then stillness.

Not‍ a single thing‌‍‍ moves on this‌ vast plain.

Thud,‌‍‌ thud, thud.

Suddenly,‌‌‍ the ground rumbled⁠‍ and began to‌⁠⁠ crack.

The⁠‍ gradual crack heads‍ toward.

“Damn!”⁠‍‌

“Follow‌ me!”

Where‌ the pilgrims are.‌

At the same time,‌ it was also‍ where the wild⁠ horses that had‌‌ fled were exhaling‍ their exhaustion.

“Dorothea…”‍‌

“Why!”⁠

“I‌ need to do⁠⁠ this quickly.”

Vlad,‍⁠⁠ who had been‌ observing the situation from the top⁠‍ of a hill,‌ realized that Rutiger’s work would not⁠ be enough to resolve the situation.‍‍‌

“It’s⁠‌⁠ almost here!”

“If‌ it’s almost here,‌‍ I’ll move.”

Vlad‍ turned his head‍‍‌ and looked back.‍

“I⁠ said wait!”

There‍⁠ was Dorothea, smearing⁠‍ her tail with‍‌ a strange paint‍ color and leaving⁠ a trace on‌ a piece of⁠ paper.

“…Are‍⁠ you using your‍⁠ tail?”

“It’s‍ the Sioux way!”⁠⁠

For a boy who‌‌⁠ had never seen‍⁠ a magician perform their magic, it‌⁠ was a scene that could only be described as‍⁠⁠ fascinating.

“That’s it!”

Dorothea lifted a piece‍‌ of paper the‌‌ size of her⁠‌ palm, as if⁠ she had finally finished.

The‌‌⁠ trace glowed for‍⁠ a moment in‍‌ the sunlight and then regained its‍‌ color.

“You can give it to Lord Rutiger.‍ He’ll use it⁠⁠ to rub or‌⁠ cut the paper⁠ against an object,⁠ like a sword.”‌

[It’s‍ too late.]

But‍ the crack that⁠⁠‍ the Deathworm was‍ creating was already‍ heading directly towards⁠⁠ the pilgrims.

In the distance, herds⁠‌‍ of wild horses‍ fleeing and the‍ knights carrying the⁠ priests were rushing⁠ urgently.

“I‍ think we’re too‍‍ late…”

“Get‌⁠ on my horse!”

At⁠⁠⁠ Dorothea’s words, Vlad⁠ turned his head‍‍ to look at‍‌⁠ Portly.

“What‌ are you waiting⁠‍ for, do it!”‌

Dorothea‍ was exhausted from‍⁠ the sudden burst‌‍ of engravings, and⁠⁠‌ Vlad was unable‌⁠ to mount his‍ horse.

Given⁠⁠ the circumstances, the‌ only person who⁠‌ could have delivered⁠ the paper to⁠ Rutiger would have⁠ been Portly.

[It’s‌ too late to ride a horse;‍ you can’t assume‌ that an underground‌ Deathworm has the⁠ same speed as‍⁠ a Deathworm above‌ ground.]

“I’ll‍ be late even⁠⁠ if I go‍⁠⁠ now.”

Dorothea‌ did what she could, but the⁠ given time was‌‍ too short.

So she couldn’t be⁠ blamed.

“What‌ can I do!”‌⁠

Dorothea,‍ crouched on the ground, her blue‌‌ lips trembling.

“That…”‌‍

Vlad⁠ knew.

That‍‌ there was only‌ one way to‍ get the paper⁠ to Rutiger in‍‌ time for the⁠ Deathworm to pursue⁠ it.

“I’ll go.”

“You‌ can’t ride a horse, can you?”‌

Vlad‌ moistened his lips‍ with his tongue‍ and headed.

In‌⁠ the opposite direction the knights had⁠ taken.

Tsk-tsk-.‍‍

The⁠‌‍ rock that had‌⁠⁠ been hit by‌‌ the tip rolled‍⁠ down with a loud crash.

It wasn’t a cliff,⁠‍ but it was‍‌‍ a hill with‌ a deadly angle.⁠‌

It‌ was a steep‌⁠ hill that no horse could manage⁠⁠ to descend.

“It’s‌ the only way,” he said, “so‍⁠ it’s a gamble.”‍‍‌

Vlad‌‌ had never been caught stealing as‍ a child.

He⁠⁠ was elusive by⁠⁠‍ nature, but he⁠ knew it wasn’t⁠ like that.

“If⁠‍⁠ we go down⁠‍ here, we’ll make‍ it in time.”

That⁠ the fastest way‍‌⁠ to a goal‍‌ is a straight‍ line.

Not⁠ a single guard‍ caught Vlad as‍‌⁠ he ran through the streets, over⁠ the walls, and⁠⁠ through the shops.⁠‍⁠

And the same would‍ happen now.

“It’s‌‍ almost a cliff‌ here!”

“Complain‌⁠‌ later.”

The⁠ blonde-haired boy grabbed‌ Dorothea’s imprint as‍‍⁠ if he wanted⁠ to snatch it‌⁠‌ away.

“I‍ really didn’t want‍ to not take‌‍ the peanuts that day.”

Unable⁠‌ to finish the‌ sentence, the blonde-haired⁠ boy’s hair swayed‌ down the dizzying⁠ slope.

“Hey!”‌

Dorothea‍ peeked down the‍ hill to find Vlad, who had‌‍ disappeared into the‌‍ air.

“Uh…”‌‌

There‍‌ was the figure‍‍‌ of a boy‍‌ running down the steep slope as‌ if he had wings.

“I‌‌‍ heard you can’t‍‍ ride…”

A top prospect, watched‌⁠ and sponsored by‌‍ the Bayezid family.‍

The‌⁠ imprint Dorothea left‌ emitted a white‌ glow in the⁠ hands of the‌ blonde-haired boy.

***‍

[Sloooowly!‌‍ Sloooowly! On tiptoes!]‍‍

“It’s too noisy and‌‍ distracting!”

Taking⁠‌ Dorothea’s imprint, Vlad headed towards the‌ almost vertical hill.‌‍

It⁠‍ was a move‍‍‍ he had learned⁠ to make with⁠‍⁠ his life, like‍⁠ a child who‍ could die tomorrow⁠‍ if he didn’t‍ eat today.

I hope you don’t‍‌‍ have to go‍ out like this.‌

In‍‍ the first place,⁠ Rutiger is the one at odds⁠ with Joseph for⁠‌ the position of‍ Patriarch.

Moreover,⁠ all the knights‌‍ here were among the highest-ranking members‌‍ of House Bayezid,‍ so there was no need for‍⁠‌ a mere squire‌ to go to‌‍ such extremes.

But‌ Vlad wanted to⁠‌ do it.

First,‍ he wanted to‍‌ attack Rutiger’s knights⁠‍ for ignoring him‍‌ and Joseph.

The‍‌ second was for‌⁠‍ the black-haired horse,‍ who was trying⁠⁠ to protect the‌⁠⁠ herd from the⁠‌ disastrous attack of⁠ the Deathworm.

The⁠ subject of animals‍ makes me sick.‌⁠

Vlad‌‌ was aware of‍‍ it.

He‌‍ knew what it‍ was like for‍⁠ a vast and untouchable world to⁠ destroy your home.‌‌

The‌ helplessness of that‍ day was like‌ a deep wound⁠ in the boy’s‌‍ soul.

Hating‍‌⁠ not being anything,⁠⁠ he ran down⁠‌⁠ the hill, defending‌⁠⁠ his actions to‍‍⁠ himself.

“Ugh!”⁠

He thought for a moment.

The‌‍‌ slightest misstep, and‍⁠ Vlad slid down⁠‌⁠ the steep slope.‍‌⁠

[Dodge!]

“Ugh!‍‌ Ugh!”

The‌‍‍ boy rolled down‌ the hill shouting.‍

But⁠⁠‌ despite rolling violently‌⁠ over the rough‌ terrain and colliding with rocks, Vlad‌ seemed strangely indifferent.⁠‌

If‍⁠ the boy had‍‍ opened his left‌‌ eye and looked⁠‌‌ into the world‍⁠‍ of voices, he‍⁠ would have realized that his armor‍‌ was now glowing‍⁠‍ white.

The white snake protected⁠ him.

“…”⁠‌

And‌ at the foot⁠ of the hill,‍ there was someone‌⁠ else watching the⁠⁠ glow that the⁠ boy couldn’t see.‌

The‌ black-haired horse panting‍ and running to‌‌‌ save the herd.

To⁠ the horse’s eyes, the boy shone⁠‌ white.

A bright and white‌⁠ star.

A star burning in‍‍ white light, falling‍‍ down the hill.‍‌

In⁠⁠ the world of‌‍ the black horse,‍‍ he saw a white light, reflecting‍ the boy.

A white star submerged⁠‍ in the moonless‍‍⁠ night.