“Orlando. There’s something I want to ask you.” There was an indescribable tension in Pabel’s voice. Given the situation, that was expected.
Demographics, culture, religion. Observations of the many countries largely made up of people of the same race demonstrated how difficult it was to unify a nation. That task became even harder when multiple races were involved. Bringing together the myriad subhumans in the hills seemed an insurmountable challenge.
But if they had managed to achieve that somehow, it would mean the beginning of a battle that would decide the fate of the Sacred Kingdom.
Orlando trembled.
In order to bring such diverse races together, there would need to be a clear source of power. For humans, wealth or knowledge could be that source, but for subhumans, physical strength was most convincing. In other words…
There could be someone crazy strong out there…
“Answer on your instinct as a warrior. Why do you think they showed up at this, our most heavily defended fort? Either they’re a detachment attacking as a feint so that another group can break through a weaker area or—”
“They think they can smash through the front door. They want to obliterate one-fifth of the Sacred Kingdom’s fighting power right here, right now.” Though he felt Pabel’s sharp gaze on his profile, Orlando continued. “At the same time, they can establish a bridgehead at this fort. They would also lower our morale while boosting their own to boot.”
“…The National Mobilization Order might be invoked.”
“Ha-ha! A war this big was only supposed to happen once in Roebel history. Can’t believe we’re gonna get another one in our lifetime…”
“…I’m going to report this up the chain. Come with me.”
“You got it, sir! Boys, this party’s about to get started! Go grab your spare weapons!”
The larger the enemy army, the longer it would take to get into position. And it would take all the longer if it was made up of various races. But the same could be said of the Sacred Kingdom’s side. It took time to prepare an army. Even on the front lines.
There were an astonishing number of things to do. They had no time to waste.
Orlando set off running after Pabel.
2
As the enemy army took up its position, Pabel felt his throat begin to burn.
The longer it took them to attack, the more soldiers could be concentrated at the fortress and the more time the Roebel Sacred Kingdom’s government would have to activate the National Mobilization Order. The military leadership seemed to welcome the delay, but Pabel felt differently. Some subhumans had intellects that equaled or even surpassed human intelligence. There was no way the leader of this army was an unenlightened imbecile; they would surely understand that giving their enemy time to prepare put them at a disadvantage. And it was the middle of the night. Subhumans had the advantage in combat now, even if the humans lit bonfires and other sources of light.
Pabel stared out at the enemy encampment four hundred yards away.
The host was gathered in groups by race that didn’t seem to take into account what sort of weapons, tactics, or similar racial characteristics they had.
They probably weren’t united under a single banner. If they were, there should have been a more logical way to form ranks. Or perhaps it was a polyarchy, some sort of subhuman alliance where each race had equal authority.
“I can’t see very well, sir. Can you spot the general?”
“No, so far I haven’t found anyone who looks like their leader.”
And none of Pabel’s subordinates had reported that they had seen someone like that, either.
But there had to be a commander. Without one, even getting people to form ranks was a challenge.
“They can’t stay hidden forever. I’m sure the leader will show up on the battle line.”
It was subhuman nature for the ruler to possess great strength and to publicly demonstrate their might.
And that was the perfect timing for Pabel to do his job.
He clenched his bow.
It was a composite longbow enchanted with magic effective against subhumans. Not only that, he had also been issued a Cape of Shadow that allowed him to melt into the shadows and conceal himself more easily, Boots of Silence to erase the sound of his footsteps, a Vest of Resistance to boost his defense, and a Deflection Ring to protect him against ranged weapons. It was clear how much his country valued him.
“Be ready to go at any time, you guys,” he instructed his subordinates lurking in the darkness.
If their opponents were human, war was sometimes a noble affair with an exchange of messengers and declarations, but neither the officers at this fortress nor the people of the Sacred Kingdom felt like negotiating with subhumans that hailed from the hills. If anything, they might pretend as a ruse to buy time. Pabel and his troops intended to shoot as soon as they located the enemy commander.
“…Shouldn’t you head back to your own unit?”
“All right, I will. Take care, sir.”
“You too.”
Watching Orlando go, Pabel felt slightly anxious.
Some of the special abilities subhumans had were fatal for their victims.
Like the gaze of the gigabinocs.
These subhumans had eyes so large the proportions of their faces were bizarre. They possessed two types of dangerous gazes. One was Charm, which would lure its victim into approaching unconsciously, despite the danger. Yes, even from the top of the wall, anyone affected by Charm would attempt to reach the gigabinoc via the shortest route.
Normally, magic items were equipped to boost resistance against such unique abilities, but Orlando hadn’t been issued any, so with bad luck, one attack could be the end of him.
When Pabel closed his eyes to calm himself, the image of a woman appeared in the back of his mind.
One of the Nine Colors, she of White.
She makes me nervous in a different way. She’s liable to cause trouble with her ignorance. And it’ll be Pink cleaning up after her… Why does my daughter want to work with her? She could just meet a good man, fall in love, and settle down like a regular civilian, but instead— Agh, can’t be doing this now!
He shook his head to clear it of the spiraling worries about his daughter.
He turned to look at the subhuman camp again, partially to switch his mind’s gears.
It was unclear how many of them lurked beyond the hill, but there were many banners flapping in the wind. The sole tier-three caster at the fort had flown into the sky and confirmed they weren’t fake banners.
There really were that many enemies out there. It didn’t seem likely to end as a staring contest.
Pabel performed his usual ritual.
From his breast pocket he removed a wooden doll and he gave it a kiss.
His daughter had made it for him when she was six years old. It was a strange-looking doll, four limbs jutting out of a circle, but apparently, it was meant to be her daddy. He still remembered vividly how she had cried when he complimented her on her “neat monster”—and the kick his wife had given him.
It had been rubbed so often, it was wearing down, and the indentations that had been carved for the eyes and mouth were smoothing out. She had grown so much since that time, and he would have liked her to make him a new doll that resembled him better, but perhaps she wouldn’t understand his feelings—it didn’t seem like she would be working on a new one anytime soon.
Maybe it was because he hardly saw his wife or daughter due to his long hours on the job. He felt like a gulf was growing between him and his girl with each passing day. She used to run and jump into his arms the moment he arrived home, but at some point, even when he got to go home, he didn’t get a hug anymore.
She’s outgrown her daddy, laughed his wife, but to Pabel, it was a serious matter.
If I could get a couple of months off, it would be great to go camping together like we used to.
When he shared his range
r knowledge, his daughter had looked at him with admiration and respect. That’s what his plan was centered around, though he realized it probably wouldn’t be so easy.
Pabel tucked the doll back into his pocket.
His daughter was aiming to be a paladin, so she wasn’t at home. Even when he finally got to go visit, she was often away.
Yeah, it would have been better—well, at least a little, and I really mean a little, just a teensy little bit—if she had married a man near home.
Life as a paladin was the last thing his daughter was suited for. He’d been watching over her all her life, so he knew it was a mistake.
She chose that path because she looked up to her mother, who was once a paladin. But that didn’t qualify her to be one, too.
Only a knight who could realize the justice they believed in could become a paladin.
While he never said so, mostly because he was scared of his wife, Pabel thought paladins were fanatics.
Does my girl understand that…? I don’t really want her to…
“There’re so many of them.”
Hearing his aide, short of breath and murmuring as he gazed out at the enemy encampment, brought Pabel back to his senses.
“Yeah, there are. But don’t be afraid. All you have to do is support me.” Those words helped his aide—and the rest of his unit—relax ever so slightly.
Yes, that’s fine. Nerves are a sharpshooter’s worst enemy.
Just as he cracked his emotionless face—though that’s not how he thought of it—into a faint smile, he noticed movement at the enemy position.
A single subhuman slowly came forward.
Despite the huge numbers of their force, this envoy didn’t have a single escort. Either they didn’t need one, they were vain, or they were a messenger of such little value that it didn’t matter if they lived or died.
“Should we shoot?”
“Hold. But line up a shot. Then wait for my order.” When he gave the instructions in a lowered voice, his subordinates fanned out briskly like a scattering of shadows.
Pabel stared, trying to figure out if it was the enemy general or a lowly messenger.
What kind of subhuman…is that even? I’ve never seen one like that before… What’s with those clothes? Some kind of folk costume? And that mask?
Whoever it was, they definitely weren’t a human. Pabel spotted a tail or something trailing behind them.
The most notable thing was the outfit. He felt like it was in the realm of possibility that this was some kind of traditional outfit, but he could tell even at a distance that it was incredibly well tailored—on par with the craftsmanship a human could achieve.
Subhumans with advanced cultures can only mean trouble for us here…
It wasn’t just Pabel—all the soldiers on the wall observed the subhuman’s every move with bated breath. While tension filled the air, the envoy had come within fifty yards of the wall.
“Stop where you are! This is the Sacred Kingdom territory! You subhumans aren’t welcome here! Leave this instant!” That cry came from the chief of the fort, one of the Sacred Kingdom’s only five generals. The man in dull, battered full plate armor shouted in a voice that resonated in the pit of Pabel’s stomach.
The reason only a single staffer was near him was probably so that in the event of an attack, they wouldn’t risk losing all their military planners. Instead, several soldiers with tower shields were standing by behind him to jump out if anything happened.
In contrast, the subhuman’s voice was pleasant and easy on the ears. It had a deep timbre that slipped right into a person’s heart, easily reaching deep within Pabel despite the distance.
“I’m well aware of that. Now then, who might you be?”
“I…I’m the general charged with the protection of this fort! Who in blazes are you?!”
You’re under no obligation to give out that information! Pabel frowned. But he knew this general wasn’t talented at finessing things, so there wasn’t much to be done about it.
“I see, I see. Well it would be rude not to answer when I’ve been asked my name. Pleased to meet you, subjects of the Sacred Kingdom. My name is Jaldabaoth.”
“Really?!” The one who screamed was the staffer next to the general. “The Great Demon Jaldabaoth? The one who led demons on a rampage in Re-Estize’s capital?”
“Ohhh, I’m honored that you’ve heard of me. Yes, I’m the one who held that much-applauded party in the Re-Estize Kingdom. But ‘Great Demon Jaldabaoth’? That’s a rather sad title… How about you call me Evil Emperor Jaldabaoth?”
Pabel rolled the words Evil Emperor Jaldabaoth around on his tongue.
It was an awfully arrogant thing to call yourself, but given all the subhumans standing ready behind the demon and the stories of the disturbance in the royal capital, he felt like perhaps it was appropriate.
“Do you mean to assault my country like you did Re-Estize?”
“No, not quite. In Re-Estize, I met a terribly powerful warrior…” Jaldabaoth shrugged his shoulders helplessly. The motion was so elegant, Pabel almost felt like he was on par with a human noble. “But, well, I’ll take the liberty of omitting those details.”
“So why have you come?! Why have you led these subhumans here?!”
“I came because I want to turn this country into hell. I’d like to make this place a fun sort of nation where shrieks, curses, and wails echo without end. But when millions of humans are involved, I can’t take the time to toy with each of you individually. That’s why I brought the others. They will lower you human weaklings into the swamp of despair up to your necks, drawing out sobs of grief and supplication on my behalf.” He sounded so amused.
This was the moment Pabel learned the meaning of evil. When the ordained clergy shouted about “the evil subhumans,” it was mere propaganda meant to raise morale. Absolute nonsense. Broadly speaking, the usual subhuman attacks were about the utterly natural business of obtaining feeding grounds.
A primal fear assailed Pabel, making his skin crawl. But at the same time, he was fiercely determined.
This country was the home of his wife and daughter. How could he let this demon enter the Sacred Kingdom?
The hand gripping his bow tensed.
If Jaldabaoth or whatever his name intended to threaten them, he’d made a big mistake. Humans weren’t cowardly. This demon would learn how foolish it was to underestimate them once they mounted a formidable counterattack.
The soldiers on this wall would defend the Sacred Kingdom with iron resolve. Even if it appeared to have rusted in recent years, their devotion to their homeland remained strong.
“You think we would allow that?! Hear me clearly, foolish Jaldabaoth!” the general roared.
Yes, he really roared.
“This is the Sacred Kingdom’s first line of defense! And its last! We won’t let you trample the peace of our people!”
Primed by his shouts, the nearby soldiers raised a battle cry. “Rrrraaaaagh!” That was the moment their morale blazed brightest. If Pabel hadn’t been concealed, he would have screamed with them. His subordinates, shivering slightly, must have felt the same.
But a mocking applause dampened their mood. After clapping, the demon spoke. “So you’re the dogs guarding the cradle? How delightful. It’s very important to have something to protect. I think I’ve taken a liking to you fellows. Any prisoners we take here will be given my finest welcome.” He laughed as he spoke, sounding truly pleased.
Jaldabaoth wasn’t talking very loud. So from where Pabel was standing, he shouldn’t really have been able to make out every word. But strangely, he could hear them all quite clearly. It sounded like the demon stood right behind them.
Nothing to worry about. It’s probably magic.
There were spells and enchanted items that could magnify voices. There was a good chance the demon was using something like that. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was creeping up on him.
“I won�
�t accept surrender. Please do your best to entertain me. Now then, let’s begin.”
Pabel gave his men the order to shoot to kill.
He didn’t wait for a signal from the general. He was authorized to act on his own discretion. When aiming for the enemy leader, that’s how it had to be. If they had to wait for permission from a superior, they would miss their chance.
Pabel stood.
His subordinates followed.
They only had a moment to aim. To Pabel, fifty yards was point-blank range. He drew his bowstring with the intent to kill without hesitation—and felt his eyes meet Jaldabaoth’s behind his mask.
I’m not giving you time to flee or defend. You’ll regret being arrogant enough to come to the front line alone!
“Loose!”
At the sound of Pabel’s voice, fifty-one arrows flew.
Enchanted missiles launched from enchanted bows.
Fire arrows trailed red; ice arrows, blue; lightning arrows, yellow; acid arrows, green, Pabel’s holy arrows, white—all racing across the void.
Having been loosed from strings drawn to their limits, they flew in straight paths, none of them arcing. All stuck their target, Jaldabaoth, without fail.
Pabel’s shot was particularly powerful. Boosted with arts and skills, its destructive energy matched that of an overhead blow delivered by a heavy warrior. Even a man in full plate armor should have gone sprawling.
But Jaldabaoth endured all fifty-one arrows without so much as flinching.
Then something happened that made Pabel doubt his eyes.
The arrows that should have pierced his body all fell to the ground.
What?! Some defensive ability against projectiles?!
As he prepped his second arrow, he frantically tried to figure out how Jaldabaoth managed to defeat the attack.
Some monsters had abilities that made them immune from certain attacks. For example, lycanthropes could hardly be hurt at all unless the weapon was made of silver.
So perhaps Jaldabaoth had a similar ability. In that case, what sort of attack would pierce his defenses?
The arrow Pabel had just shot was made of iron and imbued with holy energy, which was effective against evil monsters. A demon should never have been able to fully protect itself from that, but the irrefutable truth was that he had nullified it. Finding the path to victory now depended on trying different sorts of arrows to gather information and rip off the veil to uncover Jaldabaoth’s weakness.
The Paladin of the Sacred Kingdom Part I Page 3
