Chapter 78. The Young Thing That Broke Out of the World Called an Egg (1)
***
A middle-aged man who lost his left ankle was walking through a narrow gorge supported by a scarred man.
In the spot they passed, traces of blood flowed from the end of the middle-aged man’s ankle remained intact.
“Well…… I knew I would die like this soday.”
The middle-aged man grinned and took out cigarette paper from his bosom and rolled it skillfully.
Even while being supported, rolling cigarette paper; it was enough to make the scarred man angry seeing the middle-aged man, but.
Instead of getting angry, he lit the cigarette the middle-aged man made.
The middle-aged man made a humorous expression unfitting for his age and spoke looking at the scarred man.
“Well…… You saw it well, right? The Void Tree rooted now is still young, so it’s enough to cut down.”
The middle-aged man inhaled cigarette smoke deeply.
“The last thing to say is…… Right, good work.”
The middle-aged man tapped Blanc Scar’s shoulder, released his support, and turned back.
Using the scabbard like a cane instead of the lost left ankle, he supported himself and bit the cigarette.
Like that, he calmly prepared for his end.
Ominous sounds started from the dark place far away.
Terrible screams of things polluted by the Void were heard in the ears of Blanc and the Captain.
The Captain of the Liberation Front Search Team no longer looked at Blanc.
His two eyes looking straight ahead were full of Voids rushing in pitch-black.
“Nasty fellows, not giving ti to smoke one cigarette.”
The Captain flicked the cigarette toward Blanc and said.
“Now you are the one who watches the remaining night.”
The cigarette burning down rolling pitifully on the ground without burning much entered Blanc’s eyes.
“Go do your business.”
The scarred man. Blanc Scar received the Captain’s last order and started running turning back.
Sounds of terrible things rang behind his back, but Blanc Scar never looked back.
Liberation Front Search Team.
Night Watchers.
They opened the last path for Blanc Scar with their deaths.
A night sky without a single cloud.
In the dried-up gorge where not even a drop of tear could flow.
A single drop of tear the scarred man shed fell down.
The mark of the unit engraved on Blanc Scar’s pauldron was receiving moonlight and shining bluely.
***
The white snow that was covering the blue plain of Bromberg had now disappeared without a trace.
When he first entered Moirai piercing through the fierce wind of winter, Blanc led barely less than 5 of his retainers, but when he ca out of the Goddesses’ holy ground, he was leading 500 troops.
Those troops were sweating beads of sweat for the approaching war under the banner of Cadmus.
Hansen was looking at his young Lord quietly from behind Blanc’s back watching the training.
He knew Blanc possessed a strong soul despite his young age.
However, in Hansen’s view, parts looking sowhat precarious were coming into sight.
Perhaps because he was shouldering too heavy a burden at a still young age, Blanc often showed a stiff atmosphere along with excessive tension in everything.
However, from a few days ago, the old and experienced Hansen could feel that the air flowing from Blanc had beco calm along with his strangely settled eyes.
‘Young boys grow greatly even from a small trigger.’
Hansen could feel that although he didn't know what beca the trigger, Blanc had put down his heavy burden to so extent and at the sa ti solidified his inner self.
Hansen’s thought was correct.
For Blanc who finished all preparations for the reclamation of Norington, now only the battle with the three families of Gartaria who burned his family remained.
However, even facing a big event, his mind was lighter than any ti since regressing.
‘It was going properly.’
Blanc, who checked Ulrich’s arrangent under the full moon, could know where the ssage conveyed from the past was pointing.
The Gorge Where Even Tears Dried Up.
Unlike the feeling the na gave, it wasn't a place where particularly terrifying legends or incidents occurred.
It was just a na built thanks to the water stream between the gorge drying up surprisingly suddenly.
Until now, that is.
The Search Team of the Liberation Front, the Night Watchers.
Existences like the eyes of the Liberation Front who examined the movent of the Void under the Continental Lighthouse that beca ruins and pulled out teorites from the forest where a star fell, Starfall.
The place where the Night Watchers, the unit Blanc belonged to, were annihilated was the very Gorge Where Even Tears Dried Up.
The place nad The Gorge Where Even Tears Dried Up like that belonged to the territory of the Vicious family, a Baron family of Gartaria.
Blanc was in a situation where his personal goal of family revenge and his destination as a Regressor blocking the Void and finding Ulrich’s ssage coincided exactly.
‘He arranged his arrangents to consider .’
The series of movents Blanc was performing were references to plans ticulously set in the Liberation Front before regressing.
And Ulrich was the party who established that plan.
Ulrich’s arrangent starting from the golden statue in Baltire was continuing through the Iron Bank and Bigrove, passing Moirai and the forest where a star fell, to Vicious' gorge.
This had to be thought of as a plan ticulously constructed by Ulrich predicting Blanc’s movent path so his arrangent could flow naturally following his goal, and also proof proving that Blanc was moving properly according to the path Ulrich thought of.
If there was conviction that he was walking a proper path, whatever obstacle was in front, he just had to break through confidently.
Blanc only had to burn himself and walk straight toward the goal placed in front of him now.
“My Lord, a ssage has co from the Baroness.”
“From Ciella?”
Ciella was a wise and thoughtful woman.
Although she didn't know Blanc was shouldering the existence called Void, she knew the things he had to do in the future were important, so she had tried not to distract Blanc if possible.
So Ciella had never sent a letter to Blanc directly in her na until now.
“Sothing must have happened.”
Blanc hurriedly opened the letter his wife sent and read it in detail.
“Hmm…….”
The content written in the letter was short, but it contained a matter understandable enough for her to send a ssage to the busy Blanc.
“Billy.”
“Yes. My Lord.”
“Must advance the schedule.”
Blanc had already almost finished the schedule in Bromberg.
Therefore, the Cadmus Knights were planning to leave after organizing equipnt and sufficiently replenishing stamina consud anwhile, but Blanc ordered the knights to prepare to leave tomorrow imdiately.
“Did sothing happen at the Cadmus mansion?”
Hansen, who was assisting Blanc from the side, asked carefully.
Blanc handed the letter Ciella sent to Hansen with an indifferent expression.
“It’s not much, but.”
Hansen read the letter Blanc handed over.
“Ha!”
Hansen, having read the entire letter, looked at Blanc with a surprised expression.
If one had to categorize the content written in the letter, it was closer to a happy event than a mishap.
“It seems a chick ca out of the egg.”
***
Bartomyu was clutching the letter Blanc sent in his office.
In that letter, the growl of a wolf saying all preparations were now finished was written.
“Just need to watch the ti.”
Bartomyu closed his eyes and rembered when he heard the report that Blanc beca the Seeker of the Blue Star.
That mont when the wolf called Blanc Cadmus looked at the blue star in Moirai and howled.
Bartomyu stood up from his seat clutching two hands and laughed loudly.
“Don't have to postpone until the next generation!”
Bartomyu, the current Head of Tolo, was a person who poured all his strength into breaking away from the limit of a ritorious Noble and constructing Tolo’s domain.
Although the shade of the Felix Royal Family might have been comfortable, it was narrow by that much, so the lions of Tolo were always aiming for an opportunity and preparing to run out to their field.
Bartomyu thought that although it might be impossible in his generation, the lion of the next generation would be able to run out to the wide field.
Therefore, to set that foundation, he accepted the maternal grandson called Blanc Cadmus and laid the ground called Norington.
If a thirteen-year-old child grew up and moved for the lion of the next generation, Tolo would co to possess their own territory, although not completely.
Bartomyu who did not spare investnt in his young maternal grandson with such a purpose.
However, the young wolf easily exceeded his expectation, equipped himself with all preparations, and was running toward him.
Bartomyu felt the ti had co for him to stand up directly and welco that wolf.
“Take the temporary Knight Commander position. Edwin.”
“In the end, you try to work to the very last of the last.”
At the grumbling of the old sword, Bartomyu smiled slyly.
Bartomyu had Edwin fill the Knight Commander position left vacant due to Stefan’s injury.
Although Edwin was not one who inherited Tolo’s blood, it was also true there was no knight capable of exercising that much influence within the family.
In a situation where Schumacher Tolo couldn't be called out from the Royal Court, Edwin, to whom the swords of Tolo paid respect, was the most suitable person.
‘If only Jonas had grown properly…….’
Bartomyu felt bitterness rising again regarding the insufficient ability of his eldest grandson Jonas, but Jonas wasn't the only lion of Tolo.
First, to ride the montum called Blanc, there was no choice but to draw the sword called Edwin.
“Convey to Neudorf. That the ti to achieve our desire has co.”
The lion with a white mane lay flat into the bush.
Waiting for the ti the wind changes.
***
Berger was steadily using the authority and influence of the Alchemy School to fill the list of mages capable of participating in the war.
The race called mages were existences full of a sense of being chosen people basically.
They were people who lived stuck in laboratories cutting ties with worldly affairs and looking only at their ideals.
However, even they couldn't solve the realistic problem called gold coins.
Berger was snatching them up one by one the mont they ca out to the world moving with arrogant gestures toward the outside world whenever research funds ran short.
Just the mages gathered like that were about 30.
Although more than half were alchemists belonging to the Alchemy School, with this number, it was an excessive number overflowing enough to mobilize for a re territorial war.
However, Berger was not satisfied with this.
“Must call Franz in.”
Berger had even summoned the family’s successor, who was investigating the Evil that had left behind a deep malice in Neudorf.
Berger, like Bartomyu, was also feeling stifled about the family influence that could not expand any further.
The shackle called ritorious Noble filled since Wilhelm I, the founding King of the Felix Kingdom.
Although ritorious Nobles were promised many interests, the restriction of not being able to have territory was rely a shackle filling their ankles in the end no matter how shining the title.
However, the son-in-law obtained by giving his daughter was a wolf free from that shackle.
The investnt in him right now was like sharpening a knife to cut off the shackle.
“Convey to Count Bartomyu.”
Berger Neudorf answered the lion’s roar.
“That Neudorf has already finished preparations.”
The Golden Balance, the symbol of Neudorf, started to tilt to one side.
And what was placed on the tilting side was where the wolf of Cadmus was.
The wolf with black hair was driving the wind changed from Moirai and returning to Baltire.
The banners Blanc gathered were fluttering following that wind.
And the place where the wind brushing past the banners was heading was the territory that lost the rightful successor.
It was Norington.
Reviews
All reviews (0)