Academy’s Barbarian

Mersin’s prediction sort of came true.

…In other words, it didn’t perfectly match.

Well, if someone could perfectly predict the situation ten days later with just a handful of information, that wouldn’t be prediction—it’d be foresight, wouldn’t it?

It’s unfortunate for Targien and Mersin herself, but Mersin wasn’t a prophet, so she didn’t have the ability to pull off such a feat.

Besides, her opponent in this scheme wasn’t the “warrior-like” Targien, who preferred swords over words, but the leader of sorcerers and her successor, who favored using their tongues and brains over blades.

“…You’re saying Ima-ra is fleeing west to escape Targien’s pursuit?”

“That’s correct. Fortunately, she seems unharmed for now—”

“It’s a trap. If Targien were serious, he wouldn’t have let Ima-ra escape. He’s likely using her as bait to lure the Blue Army out of Ordos.”

One of Mersin’s goals in letting Ima-ra go had already been figured out long ago, just by the fact that Ima-ra was still on the run.

“Then should we just leave Princess Ima-ra be?”

“Of course not. I know exactly what she saw. We can’t just let her go like this.”

Meiharin knew. She knew that her daughter, Ima-ra, had witnessed the ritual chamber of the Grand Sorcerer hidden in the Underground Prison.

And that Ima-ra had even spouted the ridiculous lie that Meiharin herself had allowed it.

This meant that if things went wrong, Meiharin’s true identity could spread across the entire Great Plains.

The Ima-ra she knew was a short-tempered child who couldn’t keep her mouth shut, so there was a high chance she’d blabber carelessly without considering the danger of revealing her identity as the daughter of a sorcerer.

That’s why Meiharin couldn’t ignore this, even knowing it was Targien’s trap.

“I’ll handle bringing Ima-ra back myself. Tell Sahallyeon to engage Targien’s forces for now. There’s no need for an all-out war—just keep their main force tied down.”

She just chose a way to minimize losses while bringing Ima-ra back.

“Are you sure about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Given the situation, Princess Ima-ra is undoubtedly fleeing toward the Barrier. If we’re not careful, we might run into the Traitor Wolf while trying to retrieve her…”

The Traitor Wolf, Ha-shal-leur. A monster in human form who could take on an entire army single-handedly.

If she appeared before the warriors Meiharin sent to retrieve Ima-ra, they wouldn’t just fail to bring her back—they’d be lucky to escape with their lives.

“Ah, that woman… No need to worry about her. The Khan who just established Gurun wouldn’t have the leisure to wander around. She’s probably buried under a mountain of state affairs, too busy to even step outside the palace. So don’t worry.”

Ha-shal-leur would be buried under paperwork, so she wouldn’t have the time to personally deal with minor disturbances near the Barrier. That’s what Meiharin thought.

It was a common-sense, rational judgment. The Ha-shal-leur she remembered was a wild, barbaric woman, but at least she wasn’t the type to neglect her duties.

But how could she have known?

The truth that the queen of Hestela, the kingdom beyond the Barrier, wasn’t the Ha-shal-leur she knew, but someone entirely different who had taken over her body.

Contrary to Meiharin’s expectation that Ha-shal-leur would be too busy with royal duties to move, the current Ha-shal-leur had dumped all the complicated and headache-inducing state affairs onto a sacrificial regent she’d set up, while she herself devoted her time to military training.

It was something no normal king would ever do.

Power wasn’t something to be shared, even between parent and child, yet she’d handed over the authority to govern the kingdom to someone else. It was the perfect way to reduce herself to a puppet.

The position of regent itself was meant to manipulate a weak king and control the state affairs as one pleased, so a king voluntarily appointing a regent without being forced was unheard of.

And so—

======[ Ima-ra ]======

The Great Wall, Berengeiria, stretching dozens of meters high, separating the Great Plains and the Empire.

Due to a lack of time and resources to fully repair the sections damaged by the Rune of Collapse, the collapsed walls were a grotesque mix of wooden barricades here and there…

But even so, Berengeiria still stood firm as a barrier dividing east and west.

If it were the Ka`har of Or-han’s time, they might have smashed through the wooden barricades like a hammer, but the current Ka`har was too busy jostling for power to even think about crossing into the west.

In other words, for the Empire, the Ka`har warriors approaching the Barrier was an extremely unusual situation.

And now, that unusual situation…

“…What are you? You don’t look like Targien’s pathetic hunting dogs.”

…Had become a stark reality.

“Rest assured. We are not warriors of the pretender Targien, but the personal guard of Her Majesty the Queen Mother, sent to escort you back to Ordos.”

In the middle of a wilderness about ten li from Berengeiria, Ima-ra glared at the twenty men surrounding her, gripping two daggers tightly.

A desperate crisis. Her horse had suddenly coughed up blood and collapsed, leaving her no way to escape, and she’d long since run out of arrows fending off Targien’s pursuers.

All she had left were seven daggers. She couldn’t even properly resist, let alone take down the men surrounding her.

“Mother sent you?”

“Yes. Her Majesty is anxiously awaiting your safe return to the palace.”

Her sharp eyes, filled with hostility and rejection, scanned the men surrounding her.

Dressed in black leather cloaks with hoods pulled low, wearing necklaces of animal claws and bird feathers, they didn’t look like warriors.

Ima-ra instinctively realized that the men surrounding her weren’t warriors—they were sorcerers, just like her mother.

“And if I refuse to return?”

“…Pointless resistance won’t help. You’ll have to go back eventually, so wouldn’t it be better to return unharmed?”

The man who stepped forward as the sorcerers’ representative sneered and shrugged lightly.

To a high-ranking sorcerer from the White Valley, Ima-ra’s resistance was nothing more than a child’s tantrum.

The difference in skill was so vast that he could kill her with a single gesture. It’d be harder to hold back than to finish her off.

‘Even so…!’

Ima-ra knew she couldn’t win, but… she had no other choice. Surrendering and being dragged back would only lead to a worse outcome.

“Whether it’s pointless or not… we’ll see!”

So instead of dropping her weapons and surrendering, she twisted her body and hurled her daggers like arrows.

Two blades of steel aimed at the throat and heart.

“Foolish.”

The man chuckled at the blatant yet futile resistance, raising his right hand and wriggling his fingers grotesquely.

Sorcery. The crystallization of power the Westerners called mana coiled like a snake from his fingertips.

– Caw!

“What…?!”

The sudden cry of a bird.

Ima-ra’s eyes widened. The daggers she’d thrown were engulfed in the light from the man’s hand, then twisted like clay before transforming into two crows and flapping away.

“Just surrender quietly. I’d like to get this over with quickly.”

The man plucked a strand of his own hair, placed it on his palm, and blew on it lightly, as if cooling a teacup, sending it flying toward Ima-ra.

The strand of hair grew larger as it flew straight toward her, eventually transforming into a black snake that coiled around her body.

“Ugh…!”

Ima-ra, now helplessly bound, grimaced and collapsed. As the sorcerer had said, it was a pointless resistance that ended in a single strike.

“Tch…! Let me go right now! This… this kind of thing…!”

Even bound, Ima-ra tried to draw her remaining daggers to cut through the black snake coiled around her, but no matter how much she slashed or stabbed, the snake, which should’ve been just a strand of hair, remained unscathed.

“Honestly, what a hassle…”

Suppressing the thought that she was just a spoiled brat born to the right parents, the sorcerer approached Ima-ra, who was struggling against the binding spell, to drag her back to Ordos as ordered by their master, the Grand Sorcerer Meiharin.

That’s when it happened.

– Kwaoooooo-!

With a thunderous roar from the sky, a comet-like crimson flame burst through the clouds and plummeted down.

“What is that…?!”

“No way, why is it here…?!”

“Were we discovered?!”

“Dammit, we were told it was safe!”

The sorcerers from the White Valley, who had surrounded Ima-ra, screamed in confusion and looked up at the sky.

All their earlier composure and confidence were gone, replaced by sheer terror and chaos.

They already knew. The identity of the crimson trajectory flying through the sky like a meteor.

“Retreat! Retreat now!”

The high-ranking sorcerer who had tried to capture Ima-ra urgently turned and shouted to retreat. With “that” appearing, capturing Ima-ra was as good as impossible.

Just as Ima-ra had been helpless against them, they stood no chance against “that.”

“It’s him…! The Heavenly Demon’s successor, Abha Gisaka Ha-shal-leur, is coming!”

Someone screamed in despair—

– Kwaaaaaaang!

The crimson comet struck the ground like a nightmare.

The melted earth erupted into lava, spreading in all directions.