Chapter 255: The Three-Way Battle (2) |
* * *
“Lucion, remember this well.”
Shaela’s voice carried a rare seriousness as she gazed at the towering fortress walls of the frontier.
“I’m listening,” Lucion replied, absentmindedly stroking Ratta with his left hand while petting Troy, now in the form of a small tiger, with his right hand.
Shaela hesitated slightly, still not used to seeing Lucion treat Troy with such familiarity. Even if he could hear the voice of a divine beast, was it truly alright to touch him so casually? Wouldn’t such irreverence bring punishment?
—Uncle Troy feels good, right? Ratta is so happy when she feels Lucion’s touch!
Ratta squeezed Lucion’s fingers with her tiny paws, her tail wagging enthusiastically.
-Ratta, I understand how you feel. It’s like… hmm… flying in the sky.
Troy smiled and perked up his ears.
-Of course! I learned how nice it feels from Lucion.
Lucion barely suppressed a chuckle at the sleepy look on Troy’s face before shifting his gaze to the window.
The carriage had come to a halt, pausing at the fortress’s edge for alignment.
“Once you cross this border, the name Cronia will no longer protect you,” Shaela warned, a sigh slipping into her words. “Instead, countless enemies will come after you.”
“I know. I’ve already prepared myself,” Lucion assured her with a calm smile.
“I truly hope… nothing happens,” Shaela murmured.
“Nothing will happen.”
Though Shaela didn’t seem convinced, Lucion had no doubts.
He had heard the news the day before—Norvion had abandoned Neubra, surrendering it to Ben Neubra. Whatever Nevast was plotting, The Hand of the Void had disappeared, and Ben, with Ketlan’s support, had taken all key witnesses to the empire.
What could Nevast do when there was no one left to testify, no evidence to act upon?
‘There won’t be a war.’
Lucion was sure of it.
“I really hope so,” Shaela said, unconvinced. “You take longer to heal than most, your wounds don’t stop bleeding easily, and you’re still not fully recovered.”
Her concern was evident in her furrowed brows.
[Don’t worry. Lord Lucion has already extinguished all the sparks before they could ignite.]
Bethel’s words, though unheard by Shaela, were full of conviction.
Norvion was nothing more than an empty shell—he had chosen Neubra over himself, allowing himself to be used and discarded in the process. Even if Nevast attacked him now, it wouldn’t make a difference to Neubra.
The thought left Bethel disgusted.
[Lucion.]
A voice called from outside the carriage. Broson had latched onto the window.
—Hello, Broson!
Ratta waved excitedly.
[You’re leaving the empire, right?]
Broson also waved before asking.
[That’s right.]
Russell answered on Lucion’s behalf.
[Wherever you go, I sincerely hope everything goes well.]
[Thanks for that, but don’t forget to distinguish between the warlocks that Ale brings.]
[That’s quite the request, don’t you think?]
Broson frowned at Russell’s remark.
[Is it really?]
[It is, but with my broad-mindedness, I’ll let it slide.]
Broson scoffed as Russell shot him a sharp look.
[Anyway, Lucion, this last orb is for you. Take it.]
Lucion gave a slight nod, accepting the orb.
With that, the brief pause came to an end, and the carriage resumed its journey.
As the carriage passed past the fortress walls, Lucion’s expression tightened slightly as he gazed at the rocky terrain.
Ahead lay Nevast and Neubra. It was also a rocky location where Nevast, Neubra, and the empire met. It was a location where they could trust each other because there was nothing there.
“Ah, Lucion.”
Shaela spoke again.
“Yes, sister?”
“Could you ask the divine beast if I can pet him just once?”
She wiggled her fingers playfully at Troy.
Pfft.
A short laugh escaped Lucion.
* * *
‘What the…?’
Lucion pressed his face against the carriage window, blinking in disbelief.
A lavish building stood tall amidst the rocky wasteland—far too extravagant to be a mere temporary outpost.
‘Who would waste so much money on something like this?’
“When did they build this?” Shaela asked, leaning forward.
“I’m not sure. It’s my first time seeing it, too,” Lucion admitted. “It must belong to either Neubra or Nevast.”
“It looks like it’s newly built,” Hume commented, glancing briefly from his task of preparing snacks. “Up close, it looks rougher than it did from afar.”
Indeed, the structure appeared hastily assembled. While the design aimed for elegance, the execution was crude at best.
“You can tell just by looking?” Shaela asked while eating the sandwich that Hume had handed her.
“Yes. It’s obvious.”
“Who’s there?”
“There are white-robed figures—priests, most likely—and soldiers standing off against each other.”
“Well, that escalated quickly,” Shaela chuckled. “They’re already at a standoff?”
Lucion, who had just accepted a macaron from Hume, handed one to Ratta and another to Troy before taking a bite himself.
“Officially, I’m here as a mediator, right? So it makes sense that I should arrive before them.”
[This is just theatrics. We already know how Nevast operates—they’ll act self-righteous while pushing for war.]
Russell scoffed, arms crossed as he surveyed the scene.
Hume had been right—the tension outside was palpable.
“And here I am, making a grand entrance despite not wanting to,” Lucion murmured with a smirk.
It was almost as if it were arranged that Nevast and Neubra arrived at the same time. Neubra had already been handed over to Ben, but Nevast? Their presence was suspicious.
“You’ll probably attract more attention now—unwanted attention,” Shaela said with a frown.
“That’s fine. I’m not weak anymore.”
As the carriage rolled to a stop, Lucion casually popped a macaron into his mouth and waited.
Though he had seen Norvion’s face, Nevast’s representatives were absent. Even if their highest authority couldn’t attend, at the very least, their right-hand man should have been present.
Hume stepped down first. Before Shaela followed, she turned to Lucion.
“Let me know if you feel unwell. Are you sure you don’t need any medicine?”
“I’m used to hostility. More importantly, I feel fine now.”
“Send me a signal if anything happens.”
“Sister.” Lucion smiled mischievously. “You should prepare to be surprised later.”
[That’s right. Now it’s time for Lucion to showcase his charm.]
Russell’s voice brimmed with confidence.
Shaela exhaled before offering a small smile. “Yeah. If I can’t trust you, who can I trust? Take your time getting down.”
With that, she stepped out of the carriage.
“Troy.”
At Lucion’s call, Troy opened his eyes.
“Would you rather wait here for a bit, or head to Veros?”
—I’ll go wherever Lucion goes. Do you want to come too, Uncle Troy?
-Yeah, let’s do that.
Troy nodded, amused by Ratta’s eager, sparkling eyes.
“Are you alright with that?” Lucion asked.
-I doubt anyone will recognize me. They’ll only see me as a large divine beast.
Troy’s tone was casual, but there was an undertone of resignation in his words.
“I’ll escort Ratta and Troy-nim,” Hume said as he picked up Troy and extended a hand toward Ratta.
“Right. It wouldn’t do for me to carry them. What a shame,” Lucion muttered, sighing lightly. He enjoyed the soft warmth of Ratta and Troy but let out a short breath as he turned to Russell and Bethel.
“Don’t worry. I can handle this.”
[That goes without saying, but take a deep breath.]
Russell’s voice held a hint of gruffness. Bethel, meanwhile, clenched her fists.
[Of course, Lord Lucion will do well. Just don’t be nervous.]
Lucion chuckled softly at their words and stepped down from the carriage. The cold, unyielding stone of the rocky terrain met his feet.
He patted Ratta and Troy, still in Hume’s arms, before shifting his gaze to Heint.
“Why?” Heint whispered.
“Can I speak informally? I was blindsided.”
“…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Lucion’s lips curled slightly before he turned his gaze toward Shaela, who had stepped ahead.
A crowd had gathered near the makeshift building. Soldiers stood in rigid lines on either side, a clear divide between Neubra and Nevast.
The atmosphere was thick—tense, suffocating, solid like the surrounding stone.
[You can already see them cursing with their eyes.]
Russell chuckled. They couldn’t openly speak their thoughts, but their glares were practically at war.
Lucion strode forward.
—Woooh! Ratta’s heart is racing!
Hume followed closely behind, his expression calm but alert.
At the same time, Ratta’s eyes widened.
As Lucion advanced, his allies naturally fell into formation behind him. To his left, Shaela and the Knights of Cronia gathered, while Heint and the 8th Order of Knights assembled on his right.
Behind them, priests, soldiers, organization members dressed as soldiers, and hunters walked in line.
Flags fluttered in the breeze: an eagle standing tall alongside the sun, the banner of the Tesla Empire, and the red fox insignia of Cronia.
The air grew heavier, pressing down on the gathered forces.
The ruling Tesla Empire.
The guardians of the frontier, Cronia.
And the world’s only saint—Lucion Cronia.
This combination made the knights of Neubra and the priests of Nevast, who had been growling at each other, fall silent.
Unconsciously, every gaze fixed on Lucion.
“…Huh.”
A hushed breath slipped from someone’s lips.
“S-Saint…!”
A priest, unable to contain himself, spoke in a stunned whisper.
The priests of Nevast, previously brimming with self-righteous fury, faltered in disbelief.
What was it about this saint that made him seem so… pure?
What was the deep, intense longing, and the indescribable aura that surrounded him?
Wasn’t it similar to the power a divine beast unleashed in full strength?
―Hehehe! Everyone is amazed by Lucion!
Ratta’s round eyes darted about excitedly. Hume’s smile widened slightly.
[Lord Lucion, are you alright?]
Bethel, scanning the gathered priests warily, finally spoke up.
It was inevitable to feel a bit stifled, given how many priests there were around.
While she had only felt a slight sting when passing through the light barrier of the Great Light Temple, there were not many places where so many priests had gathered due to the temple’s vast size.
If she felt this way, how much worse must it be for Lucion?
-Don’t worry. The light they emit can’t reach Lucion—I’ll block it all.
Troy’s voice was calm, reassuring.
—Ratta’s fine too! Uncle Troy is the best!
Ratta giggled, hugging Troy tightly.
‘Hmm.’
Lucion kept his gaze steady, his focus locked on the entrance ahead.
His heart beat slightly faster, but there was no reason to feel intimidated by those stares.
Up close, the building looked even shabbier than Hume had described. From the carriage, it had seemed sturdy. Now, it was clear—it was barely more than a shelter from the rain.
‘The walls are so thin, voices from inside must be easy to overhear.’
Lucion’s lips curled up briefly.
[Look, they’re all gathered over there.]
Russell gestured toward two figures seated inside.
There were three seats. The one in the middle was reserved for Lucion. Not everyone could enter the building.
It was as if they had agreed upon it, and the guards of those sitting in the seats were clearly visible—only two.
Heint halted near the entrance. Shaela, following his lead, stopped as well. The procession behind them came to a standstill.
“I’ll keep watch here,” Heint said, calculating the distance.
It would take him three seconds to reach Lucion if anything happened. And those three seconds could easily be secured by Shaela.
“Hume.”
Lucion called his own guard. Could he leave behind the butler who had been his guard from the beginning?
“Can I bring them along?” Hume motioned toward Ratta, who was perking up her ears, and Troy, who was excited about seeing the world.
“What’s the harm?” Lucion smirked. “Bring them along.”
If anyone objected—well, what could they do? One of them was already captured. The other was an enemy yet to be dealt with.
Lucion steeled himself for what was to come, casting a glance toward Shaela.
Shaela nodded.
With a leisurely and confident stride, Lucion walked forward.
To his left sat Norvion. To his right, a priest of Nevast.
Lucion nearly laughed at the irony of them all sitting here, discussing a matter that had already been settled.
“Saint, this humble servant greets you. I am Yones, one of Nevast’s High Priests.”
Yones rose and bowed slightly.
Lucion gave a polite nod before turning to Norvion.
“A pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty. I am Lucion Cronia.”
He neither bowed nor smiled. This was more than enough courtesy for a king of an enemy nation—or, more accurately, for someone who was no longer a king.
What kind of treatment did Norvion expect after he had so thoroughly ruined Lucion?
“Greetings, Saint.”
Norvion’s eyes were hollow, void of emotion, like a candle’s dying flame.
There was no more venom in his voice.
It was as if he were a puppet, hanging by a string already cut.
“Well then.” Lucion sat down without hesitation, smiling faintly. “Now that we’re all here, let’s begin.”
Since they had brought him here at their own discretion, this was the least they could accept.
And if they didn’t like it?
What could they possibly do about it?