Wasn’t This a Night Game

Suffer not the evil to live

Almene, having studied and worked through the night, awoke with a start, finding herself slumped on the table after having dozed off.

She blinked, then, with a face suddenly pale, rushed to her father.

“Father!”

The Emperor, similarly engrossed in the relentless business of state, chuckled at the sight of his daughter’s disheveled hair.

“Looks like you fell asleep at your desk again. Your passion for learning is admirable, but try not to fall ill…”

“Demon worshippers have appeared in the Scrap Yard! Iomene has teleported there with the power of Dulaneer, and is currently engaged in battle!”

“The Scrap Yard, you say?”

Almene nodded, sharing all the information in real-time with the Emperor.

“The Saint was found unconscious in the basement, and a massive pillar of light, emblazoned with the crest of the Goddess Lilia, is illuminating the entire city. Thanks to this light, all the demon worshippers and dark mages in the city are unable to withstand it and are reverting to their true forms. The Thousand Blades of the White Order are currently engaged!”

The Emperor moved at once.

“Summon the Commander of the Black Fortress! Immediately!”

Barely twenty minutes had passed when a figure appeared before the Emperor, answering his urgent command.

A thin, muscular man with an expressionless face.

A bland, unremarkable presence, devoid of any defining features, yet he possessed more secrets than anyone else in the Empire.

“Your orders, sir.”

Otto Delmarck, Commander of the Black Fortress, asked without any preamble.

A manner that might be deemed discourteous, but neither the Emperor nor Otto paid it any mind.

Otto was not one for pleasantries, and both the Emperor and Otto understood that fact perfectly well.

“Demon worshippers have appeared in the Scrap Yard.”

“What would you have me do with them?”

“Annihilate them.”

“To what extent am I permitted to utilize force?”

“Deploy the Soulless Ones.”

“It will be done.”

The conversation ended.

And as soon as the exchange concluded, Almene raised her voice.

“Father! Send me to the scene as well!”

“It’s too dangerous, Almene.”

“I must go for three reasons. First, I can share information with Iomene in real-time. I’ll be exceptionally useful in assessing the battlefield. Second, I need to earn achievements in order to become your rightful successor. Third, I have connections in the Imperial Family, the Pantheon, the Magic Tower, and Karma Company.”

Almene’s voice was thick with conviction.

“I can assist in suppressing the demon followers, and I’m positioned to easily coordinate the various organizations inevitably tangled in the process. Furthermore, Father, I can aid in the city’s reconstruction afterward. Trust me with this.”

The Emperor observed Almene’s steadfast plea and a peculiar smile touched his lips.

He did not linger long in deliberation.

“Otto.”

“Your command, Your Majesty?”

“Take Almene. Take her and act according to her orders. As of this moment, she is my proxy. I grant her full authority to resolve the Scrap Yard crisis.”

“It shall be done.”

“Both of you, depart. Immediately.”

Otto turned without a word, hastily exiting the room, and Almene offered her father a swift nod before likewise hurrying out.

“Otto, how quickly can we reach the Scrap Yard?”

“We’ll utilize the Black Fortress’s airship for transit. It’s roughly five hours from the capital to the Scrap Yard by that means.”

“Is there no faster method?”

“Teleportation would be possible, but only for small forces, perhaps squads. Large-scale teleportation sufficient to move an entire airship is not yet feasible.”

Almene halted abruptly at that.

“Ready the airship with troops and prepare for battle. I will make a brief stop at the Mage Tower.”

She smiled.

“I know a witch with the ability to teleport an entire airship.”

*

After a few more summons, perhaps,

The entire Thousand-Man Cohort of the White Order had been summoned to the Scrap Yard.

And their leader, too, found himself summoned there.

“I have answered the call, Holy Maiden.”

Distinct from the other Ketaratus legionaries was his skull-shaped helm,

his silver, immense shield,

and the greatsword as massive as the shield.

This was Al Madaigh, Grand Master of the Legiones Ketaratus, the very moment of his summoning to the Scrap Yard.

“Where are the demons that I must tear asunder? Give the order!! I shall go forth this instant and bring them all to repentance!! oooh!! Dulanir, I have awaited this day. All this time tearing apart petty rabble, and now finally a proper fight!”

Seeing him so excited like a child, Iomene clutched the back of her neck with an expression that suggested her blood pressure was rising.

“Just give the order! Holy Maiden! I shall slaughter all those suspected within this city and return!!”

Iomene raised a hand, silencing his shouts.

“The Pillar of Light has flushed out the demon worshippers and black mages, stripping them of their disguises. Focus solely on those enemies whose identities are undeniably confirmed. Minimize collateral damage, Al Madai. Understood?”

“But… that contradicts the Codex Prolillium, Holy Maiden. Every suspect must be brought in and made to repent!”

Iomene’s pace of massaging her nape quickened with Al Madai’s outburst.

“Was it not you who, during the last incident in the Southern Territories, injured the scion of a powerful noble house, necessitating my intervention with Father?”

“…”

“I am not instructing you to violate the Codex. However, I have told you countless times that you must grasp the true intent of Dullanear, the spirit dwelling within it.”

“…”

“In the era when the Codex was written, the demonic threat was far graver than it is now. Accepting collateral damage in the pursuit of demon worshippers was a necessity then. But that is no longer the case. We must safeguard those we can. Besides, the lines between foe and friend are clearly drawn in this situation, aren’t they?”

“But the Codex Prolillium…”

Iomene finally snapped at his frustrating response.

“Grand Master! Does the Codex command you to obey *me*, or not?”

“It does.”

“Then obey as I command! Avoid collateral damage at all costs! Ensure that no harm comes to the civilians here! The moment the Ketratrus soldiers injure one innocent worker, you are banned from sorties for a year.”

Al Madai’s eyes widened.

“That… anything but that! I must repent these heretics for Dullanear!”

“Then refrain from causing incidents! You are hardly a child! I, barely a year into the Order, have had to clean up *three* of your messes in under a month! *Three*! What are you good at besides fighting?! Is that why you’ve served the order longer than High Priest MiroMel yet you are only a captain of a thousand soldiers!”

“…”

“Follow my orders. Hunt down and obliterate only the demon worshippers and black mages. Do you understand?”

Al Madai lowered his head.

“But the Codex Prolillium…”

“Out! Go hunt some demons! I’m giving you all but the 1st and 4th companies! I will handle the demons on the surface. Lead the rest and descend into the underground mines! The Pillar of Light has driven most of the demon worshippers underground!”

Al Madai’s gloomy voice brightened at that.

“Into the underground mines?”

“Yes. Moreover, a severe stench emanates from the mines. Their base must be located down there. I am ordering you to annihilate them, Al Madai. Kill every single demon worshipper and black mage. Do you understand?”

Al Madai, as if nothing had happened, beamed and thumped his chest.

“As you command, Holy Maiden! I shall go at once to make them repent!”

Iomene, wearing an expression that suggested she wanted to weep, glared at Al Madai for a moment before turning her gaze towards Kal Rena.

“Escort him to the mine entrance.”

“Pol! I require you to escort him to the mine entrance!!”

Immediately, one of the Laborers attached himself to Al Madaí, who, grinning with glee, hefted his greatsword and shield, and began to move.

“Time for repentance!! Heretics!! It is the time for repentance!!”

Kal Lenaro, watching him thunder off, wore a stunned expression.

“Truly…um…he is a reassuring presence, Your Highness.”

“You may simply call him a brainless dolt, Mr. Kal Lenaro.”

As Kal Lenaro offered a strained smile, Iomene watched Al Madaí and the remaining Ketratu Squad disappear into the distance.

“They are a Chapter that causes a great many problems. The White Chapter, that is. ‘Troublemakers’ is an expression that suits them better than anyone else. But…”

Fools driven to endlessly cause incidents and accidents by a desire, excessive in its intensity, to eliminate the servants of demons and evil gods.

That was the essence of the White Chapter, as Iomene understood it.

However, there was a reason why the White Chapter, even while endlessly creating trouble, was accepted as one of the Pantheon’s important Chapters, why the Imperial Family and nobles endlessly accommodated them, and why their major misdeeds were, unless exceptionally severe, glossed over.

“They are, as far as I know, demon and evil god hunters more powerful than anyone. Whatever lurks beneath, it will not be their match.”

*

The demon worshippers and black mages, having fled the pillar of light and descended into the underground mine, were gasping for breath.

Most of them were grievously injured, having been exposed to intense divine power.

But even more devastating was the fact that Mammon’s authority could no longer be felt.

“What in the name of all that is cursed is happening?!”

One of the black mages spat out a curse.

The plan had clearly been proceeding without a hitch.

Yet never had a bubble burst so completely.

Mammon’s authority had suddenly dwindled, diminished to the point of nonexistence, and they had suffered grave injuries from exposure to concentrated divine energy.

Everything was baffling beyond comprehension.

However, there was no time to leisurely figure out what had transpired.

“Dulaneir!! The mad god’s curs are upon us!!”

“Blast and damnation!!”

The black mage, no longer able to conceal the abominations that had already mutated, issued his orders.

“Go! Go and hold back the enemy! Buy us time!! I will extract those who are preparing in the depths!!”

[Understood, Priest.]

As the followers rushed to intercept the Ketratu, the black mage hurriedly descended further underground.

In a corner of the mine.

A magic circle drawn in blood caught the priest’s eye.

“Please. Please, hurry!!”

The black mage hastily gathered his grudges, pouring them into the magic circle.

The sound of gunshots, like cannons, and screams grew steadily closer.

The black mage’s hands moved even faster.

And finally.

Just barely, the ritual was completed.

“Answer my call!!”

Light spewed from the magic circle, then a damp, dark portal opened, and from within, entities slowly began to walk forth.

A sickening stench of rot.

Massive bulk.

Squishing sounds and festering flesh.

The end for those humans who had surrendered their souls to Mammon for greed.

The Corrupted.

Because the power granted by Mammon had been drastically reduced, the Corrupted Soldiers, which should have numbered at least thousands, were now barely a few hundred. But it was better than nothing.

“Go! Go and devour the enemies of your master… Kghaaa!”

With a deafening gunshot, the black mage’s body exploded.

Having consumed all his grudges to summon the Corrupted, he could do nothing but die.

The Corrupted approached the exploded corpse of the black mage, devouring the scraps of flesh, then roared, as if crazed, and charged toward the Thousand Knights.

“Mammon’s hideous heaps of flesh!”

Seeing them, Al Mada’i cleaved through the company and stepped forward.

A powerful holy energy surged around his shield and sword.

“Lay down your guns and take up your swords and hammers, brothers! Bullets will have no effect on these rotting things. Igniter squads from each company, come forward and burn them!”

At his words, all the Ketratheus put away their pistols and raised their cold weapons.

The paladins of the Igniter squads, with massive tanks strapped to their backs, advanced, and snapped their fingers.

High-concentrate elixir mixed with fuel sprayed from the tanks on their backs through their hands, and ignited when met with the holy power of the Dullanir.

An icy-blue flame formed on the paladins’ hands, then shot toward the rotting flesh.

A terrible scream erupted.

But none of the Ketratheus trembled with fear.

They charged.

Cutting and smashing through burning, rotten flesh with swords and hammers, they surged forward.

Al Madai roars, voice splitting the air.

“We are the sword! We are the fury!! We are the last thing you will see upon this earth!! Brothers! Show no mercy!!”

He swings his greatsword.

The blade, shimmering with divine power, cleaves through the corrupted in a single, brutal stroke.

He howls, a sound ripped from the throat of a beast.

“Tear them apart! Slaughter them until Dulaneer is no longer thirsty!!”

Fire and metal.

Flesh and gore churn, creating a cacophony of sickening sounds.