Chapter 148

Chapter 148 - A Monster Among Hungry Wolves (5)

The island of Sicily and the Appen Peninsula are close. In the case of the narrowest part of the Strait of Messina, it is less than 4km. Even capable swimmers could cross it by swimming.

Accordingly, news of the Apostle State preparing for war arrived thoroughly. Naturally, the Count of Sicily's extreme anger was an expected sequence.

"Excommunication! To top it off, worshipping heathens? The time my family has established roots and governed this land exceeds five hundred years! That in itself is a sacred right permitted by God!"

Similar to the divine right of kings, nobles considered their bloodlines and destinies to have been granted by God.

The religious orders also defend that. Because they must maintain close relations with the nobles possessing secular power.

Packaging the nobility of the aristocracy nicely while preaching to the masses is something they can do on a service level.

Yet acting like this, flipping their stance like turning over a palm depending on the situation.

"That is correct. By whose authority do those servants of God brand Your Excellency an apostate? What those bastards are doing is the true blasphemy."

"That is exactly what I am saying!"

At the mage's flattery, the Count of Sicily's anger subsided slightly.

It is natural for the undead to run rampant when many people die. Using that as a pretext to frame him as a heathen worshipper is dumbfounding to the point of being ridiculous.

Though it is true he colluded with pirates and sucked the lifeblood of the peninsula, brushing that aside for now.

"Baron Sheffield and Baron Bernstein have arrived."

"And the Poison Toad Mercenary Corps?"

"They will arrive via the sea route sometime next week."

At the Chief of Staff's report, the Count of Sicily nodded.

Separate from his greed, the Count is not an incompetent human.

"This is a war the Apostle State initiated alongside the excommunication sentence. A truce or the like is impossible."

Either the Sicilyn family is exterminated, or they repel the Apostle State. Only one of those two endings awaits.

An idle attitude similar to a dispute between nobles wondering 'If I fight and lose, I'll just pay reparations' is an act of madness. There are more than a couple of precedents of families being blown to smithereens after acting like that.

"What happened to the envoy sent to the Emperor?"

"I am sorry. They stated they absolutely lack the capacity to concern themselves across the sea..."

The Count of Sicily had also requested help from the Emperor of Roman. Feeling a desperate need for an ally in an isolated situation, the Emperor treated the Count's envoy cordially.

However, the situation was overwhelming simply fighting the noble factions right in front of their noses. They had no capacity to send reinforcements to an island so far away.

Though expressed nicely with diplomatic rhetoric, it ended with the message that there would be no relief force.

"Hmph! Like a bastard kicking away the fortune that rolled right in. Roman's end is also obvious."

"Your Excellency. Shouldn't we hire more mercenaries?"

"No."

To the Count refusing firmly, the Chief of Staff pleaded once more.

"This holy war is different from the last one that ended in failure. Dark Elves and even Dwarves are flocking in large numbers. It is said that even the knight chosen as master by the legendary Moving Castle has joined the war."

"Do you believe those nonsensical rumors? To think a castle built of stone moves. Goodness. Even children's storybooks don't spout such insane drivel."

It is not strange for the Count of Sicily to find it dumbfounding. Since it is an era where the spread of rumors is slow, and even those are mingled with all sorts of wild speculations and exaggerations.

The nobles of eastern Gord near the Bonyard, or Roman who claimed to be the successors of the ancient kingdom. The command center of the Apostle State possessing deep understanding of mysteries.

Exclude those possessing such special characteristics, and there were far more people treating the Moving Castle as baseless rumors. There's no need to even speak of Sicily, an island nation at the southern tip of the continent.

"Isn't it certain that a tremendous warrior is leading an elite army? Striking down distinguished knights with a single sword slash, and the monsters subjugated are in the hundreds. It is said he is a knight who has never tasted defeat until now."

The Chief of Staff practically begged with both hands clasped.

"Please, I beg you to hire additional mercenaries."

"Hey. Me saying no is not because I look down on the peninsula bastards. It means we have no more capacity to hire."

"Pardon? What does..."

The Count is the overlord of Sicily, famous for its wealth. Even if they definitely hired many mercenary corps, there's no way their funds had dried up already.

The Count took out a single letter and handed it to the Chief of Staff.

"It is a personal letter from the Caliph saying he will send reinforcements via sea routes."

"...!"

The Caliph refers to the head of the massive empire existing in the East. Unlike the kings of the continent, he wielded both the royal authority as a secular monarch and the divine authority as a religious leader.

Currently, checks from his subjects are severe, so absolute power like in the past does not exist. However, compared to the kings of the continent, he still wielded tremendous authority.

"Mercenary corps to simply fill the numbers are sufficient. Receiving the support of eastern elites would be certain, right?"

"But Your Excellency. Receiving their backing means..."

It meant the Count of Sicily would officially enter under the Caliph's sphere of influence.

There is no way they would be satisfied with mere wealth while sending an army from across the sea. Their intention would be to establish a bridgehead to influence the continent.

"Do we have a choice? Even if we win this time, the Apostle State will endlessly aim for me. Someone's hand must be taken regardless."

Having enjoyed unlimited freedom until now, receiving someone's interference is bitter.

However, it was far better than being framed for heathen worship and living every moment worrying when one's family might be exterminated.

'Taking this opportunity to act as the eastern empire's bridgehead and properly sucking the peninsula dry wouldn't be bad either.'

Always thinking positively was an advantage of the Count of Sicily.

"This symbol is..."

The Chief of Staff widened his eyes looking at the mark displayed below the personal letter.

"The Caliph... no, His Holiness the Caliph has decided to send the Immortals."

"Immortals!"

A knight order of the East highly renowned for their powerful combat prowess. At the news that they were participating as allies, the Chief of Staff let out a sigh mixing surprise and relief.

* * *

While Sicily was swept in tension, New Canaan was a cauldron of excitement day after day.

The majesty of the continuously arriving armies and fleets in itself made people's hearts pound.

Various merchant companies and neighboring republics also sent supplies and ships aiming to stick a spoon in this opportunity.

Knights, nobles, and the captains of sizable mercenary corps also slowly stopped their war of nerves and promoted fellowship. With the war right before their noses, it is now time to unite.

Naturally, Eugene was invited to multiple banquets and received a barrage of questions every time.

"How on earth did you form a connection with those fierce knife-ears... no, brave Dark Elves?"

"During the subjugation of bandit hordes in the Bonyard, I happened to fight with their lesser chieftain placed under my command. Surprisingly, our minds matched extremely well. Such an opponent whose physical conditioning methods and combat doctrines perfectly hit the spot was a first for each other."

Eugene's face as he spoke with a smile was warm. Sincere affection for the Dark Elves overflowed.

To the nobles who had been entangled with them even once in the past, it was utterly incomprehensible.

"The Blackhand Mercenary Corps aren't exactly docile people."

"Absolutely. We are supposedly the employers, but when we pass by, they don't even properly offer military salutes."

This level is nothing for them. A morbidly obese noble interjected wiping sweat with a handkerchief.

"Is that all? Once, while passing by me, they waved their hands in front of their noses as if I smelled. I barely held back wanting to hang them on a pillar and whip them."

At the passionately conversing fat noble, the others forcibly managed their expressions.

'Because exactly guys like you are what the knife-ears detest the most, duh.'

'Since they would turn into beasts right on the spot if you whipped them. They'd probably swarm your tiny little territory and burn it completely to ashes.'

The bond the Blackhand Tribe fostered for each other was unimaginably tight. Add to that their skills and strength being at a tremendous level.

Thanks to that, rudeness that other mercenary corps would have been thoroughly stomped for had to be overlooked with a 'that's just how they are'.

"Please understand, Sirs. Since those friends all have lean figures, they feel jealous when they see a person with a good stature."

Eugene spoke suitably nicely.

"Is the Mage of the Forest accompanying the army?"

A certain noble lady asked.

"Yes. I am merely always grateful for that friendship."

"Is friendship truly everything?"

The eyes of the noble lady, her lower face covered by a fan, sparkled with curiosity.

"She is someone whom, not to mention various grand nobles, even the king of a nation endlessly tried to recruit. But all failed. However..."

The noble lady omitted her subsequent words.

'Trailing after a mere knight without a single title, a man with only a single village to his name, there must definitely be another reason.'

Because she couldn't say the same words directly in front of the person himself.

"Conversation is important in relationships."

"Of course it is."

Married off through a political marriage, the noble lady, who was already a 'Lease' partner to various people, nodded her head.

"Valda and I hold many conversations. Nature, chess, politics, magic, domestic affairs, Homi... Ah! Homi is my squire's story."

"I know. My daughter talked about her so much. The already wilted flowers are still placed in that child's room."

The noble lady before his eyes was the mother of the young lady to whom Homi offered flowers after consecutively crushing knights.

"We sometimes harvest herbs together, and also discuss newly cross-bred crops."

"Aren't those things not a noble's duties?"

"Because I like touching grass and soil."

The noble lady as well as the nobles eavesdropping around them made expressions finding it truly unexpected.

Of course, no one dared say words like 'How could a Knight do such lowly work.'

"Tasting the beverages Valda develops and evaluating the scents of the incenses is an enjoyable matter. Conversely, she is also the first to taste the new dishes I create."

"Oh my! You even cook?"

Here the reactions split.

Unlike the knights wearing faces like 'What is a real man doing...', the eyes of the noble ladies bent favorably.

"They are dishes of my hometown. That are now being forgotten..."

The food culture of this world is not vulgar. Valda especially had her palate elevated to a high-end state after being invited to various banquets.

However, the stimulating dishes pulled from Eugene's memories were of a different continuum than what Valda had tasted.

A taste that seemed to drag dopamine from the endocrine glands and smack it down the moment it touched the tongue.

- Eugene.

- Yes?

- Your brave appearance on the battlefield is cool as well, but the sight of your back while cooking is a treasure-like scenery to me as well.

- You mean you want me to put in a lot of bacon, right? Understood.

- ...Chili sauce too.

- I shall do so!

Standing in the kitchen, Eugene's fingers had long since completely captivated Valda's tongue.

Watching the group surrounding Eugene from a distance, Verati sighed. He was the most senior knight among the nobles who brought armies.

"I wonder what meaning such a social gathering has."

"What is the matter, Sir Verati?"

A young noble who had received support of knights and even a mercenary corps because he was a second son of a powerful family asked.

"Because I can clearly see that those who will receive rewards for winning the battle against Sicily have already been decided internally, you see."

"Since the number of people closely entwined with the Apostle State is not just one or two... Didn't everyone come knowing there would be internal candidates?"

Expecting equitable distribution is a sweet dream of fools. However, there was sufficient land to fall to them even excluding the internal candidates.

"Even knowing it, isn't it human nature to be envious when actually seeing it? Since the owner who will receive the juiciest portions is too obvious, I feel jealous."

"You refer to Sir Eugene?"

The young noble stared at Eugene, who was now conversing with merchants.

As summer ended, the sheer scale of the military force gathering around Eugene was so enormous that now no one intended to stand in opposition against him.

Merchants or mercenary captains fundamentally of a lower status 오히려 freely exchanged greetings with Eugene.

"At this point, it feels like I should at least exchange greetings."

"But how should I initiate the conversation? As expected, I must use honorifics, yes?"

Conversely, nobles possessing even a sliver of power were at a loss on how to treat Eugene.

Because relationship formation in aristocratic society is sensitive to every single tone of voice and etiquette.

Using honorifics to someone they should speak down to makes them easy to look down upon, while speaking as equals to someone they should use honorifics with could cause future repercussions.

In that aspect, Eugene was an opponent whose proper treatment was immeasurable to an unprecedented degree.

"Since I am nominally of a Count's collateral branch, it is a bit much to use full honorifics to a knight without even a noble title... Wouldn't semi-formal speech be sufficient?"

"You are correct. I acknowledge his commanding army is tremendous, but since they aren't soldiers directly under his family and are all mercenaries..."

They couldn't get a feel for what class they should consider Eugene to treat him.

In the meantime, the free knights acknowledged themselves to be below him and approached Eugene.

"Sir. If you are fine with it, may I accompany your army in this expedition?"

"I will gladly accept only your intention. As I am already overwhelmed with just those I lead right now."

Eugene politely declined the requests of knights or lower nobles wishing to fight alongside him.

'They are ones who, though acting politely now, will obviously act selfishly asserting individual command rights on the battlefield.'

For Eugene, who firmly believed in an advanced unified command structure, his blood pressure rose just imagining it.

"Then how about at least boarding the same ships?"

A mobilized mercenary captain politely requested.

A situation where everyone half treated victory as an established fact. What was important now was securing as many people as possible who would side with them in the distribution of rewards.

And Eugene was the person they wanted to be closest with among the distinguished warlords gathered here.

"My army will cross the sea separately."

"Do you have a fleet arranged separately?"

"No. Because I do not need ships."

"...? What do you mean?"

Unlike the mercenary captain who seemingly couldn't understand for a moment, those sensitive to rumors approached.

"The rumors of the Moving Castle were true."

"Perhaps could we accompany as well? Please grant us the honor of stepping upon the magical castle of legends."

"..."

Those wanting to make connections attached endlessly, forcing Eugene to shake his head in disgust.

'Did I catch the inclinations of the Dark Elves as well?'

Putting aside other things, disgust surged at the thought of outsiders stepping foot into his and his family's home.

Their dirty shoes treading within the castle, their body odor seeping into the castle's air... just thinking about it...

When all such preparations ended, summer concluded, entering autumn.

A season full of spoils to plunder as the heat fades and the harvest is also finished. The best time to wage war.

The tents that had been pitched on a large scale outside the city of New Canaan completely disappeared.

When everyone was looking at the fleet and the sea beyond with tension-filled faces, Eugene's army had returned to the Moving Castle.

* * *

All mages are geniuses. Not meaning their intelligence is extraordinary, but meaning they were born with an innate aptitude separating them from others in specific domains of mystery.

Conversely, witches are those exploring mystery overall through acquired effort. They can be seen as an existence positioned somewhere midway between scholars and mages.

Naturally, the authority wielded by mages is overwhelmingly stronger. Thus, mages possessed a sense of being chosen and looked down upon witches.

'Half-wits who were not chosen.'

That is the general perspective mages hold viewing witches.

However, exceptional existences exist among witches as well. Cases born with special talents like mages do, and Cassandra is exactly like that.

"Goddess Vanas. Please protect our warriors setting out to the battlefield."

Cassandra took off the fur garment she had been wearing and folded it neatly.

"I offer a tribute here. Reaping warm heat in your world, I pray."

From the fur garment placed on the altar before the Goddess statue, white smoke rose. As if hundreds of years had passed in an instant, it rotted away and crumbled.

"Amazing whenever I see it."

"It's a piece of clothing the Lord personally picked and gifted me, so I regret seeing it go."

Cassandra's statue-like face sank slightly.

"I'll buy you another one."

"The Lord's gifts are always welcome, but I can't brag to others like this, right? Knowing it might disappear like this again."

Generally, witches have a talent for 'Invoking', accepting mysteries into their bodies.

However, Cassandra was the exact opposite. She possessed a talent for sending something out with her body as an intermediary.

Even things that normally cannot be offered as tributes are converted into tributes if Cassandra keeps them on her body.

Eugene scanning her body with an intrigued face. Cassandra proudly flaunted her beautiful physical assets.

"Could your entire body be like some fermenting bacteria? So whatever you have wrapped around you fermentates into a tribute kind of thing."

"...That is a completely unpleasant compliment. It's not like I am wine or cheese."

Cassandra's shoulders, which had been posing with elevated pride, slumped.

"Ahaha. Sorry. Anyway, the Goddess will be delighted. Sincerely."

Due to hundreds of years of distorted faith by slave traders, Vanas lived stripped naked in her domain.

However, the clothes Cassandra wore obtained qualification as tributes, making it possible to send them to Vanas's domain.

"Doesn't the Lord also wield a power similar to mine? Though someone like me dares not even compare in power output..."

The miracle that instantly healed Marbas, something even bishops of famous religious orders had given up on.

That imparted a massive impression on the Blackhand Tribe completely separate from the martial prowess or prophecies Eugene possessed as a knight.

It was absolute especially to the elders heavily believing in superstition. Thanks to their support, Eugene was able to grip the tribesmen in a short span of time.

"Similar yet different in properties. My power is focused on affecting the present world. It doesn't reach the gods residing in other dimensions like you do, Cassandra."

"Then the two of us together makes it perfect, doesn't it?"

Instead of an answer, Eugene took off the coat he was wearing and draped it over Cassandra.

Taking off the fur garment, she looked cold in a sleeveless outfit that clearly exposed her shoulders and arms.

"Thank you."

As if finding it to her liking, she rubbed her cheek and nose against the coat collar.

'What on earth, it's like a lioness acting cute.'

Totally unimaginable from the snobby lady who used to stare at humans with contempt wherever they went.

"Thank you, Cassandra."

"The Goddess will bless you."

The women and elders who had come to pray expressed their gratitude. They were the families of the warriors setting out to Sicily soon.

All of them descendants of fighters inheriting the blood of struggle. Goddess Vanas, who exerts her authority to those suffering fatal wounds, rapidly gained popularity.

"Even just until last month it was always quiet, but the believers have surged."

"Since nowadays there are always one or two people here anytime except curfew."

Husbands and sons go out to the battlefield. Could anything be thicker than the hearts of wives and mothers hoping for their safe return?

Eugene and Cassandra looked at the fruits and crafts placed before the Goddess statue.

Compared to large religious orders, it falls far short in quantity. However, to the numerous gods fallen into ruin whose existences are even being forgotten, it would be an incredibly enviable sight.

"Offerings to a god are about quality over quantity. Better are those earnest tributes than immense donations offered by wealthy people without sincerity. The former pleases the tongues of the gods more."

Eugene picked up a single orange placed on the altar.

Even if a wealthy noble offered 100 boxes of oranges for a display of wealth, most get damaged during the process of crossing worlds. Only the quantity is large; they become like squashed and rotten fruits.

Conversely, faith and desperation transform into something like wrapping paper and ice packs, delivering the accompanying fruits fresh to the god's embrace.

"I heard the Lord directly communicates with Goddess Vanas."

"Since both I and she are existences bound to this castle. A feeling of exchanging blood through the same blood vessels, maybe?"

Pausing his words for a moment, Eugene looked around the sanctuary once.

"Ever since the believers increased, I can hear Goddess Vanas's happy breathing sounds whenever I step in here."

"That is incredible."

"It's more than incredible."

The increase of Vanas's believers didn't merely mean they could receive the goddess' protection.

It also drew out an awe towards Eugene from the residents. Because in some aspects, he can also be viewed as the Champion of Vanas.

It was operating as another safety mechanism minimizing the risk of rebellion.

* * *

Around the time the expeditionary force boarded the ships amidst fervent cheers and blessings in New Canaan.

The army stationed in the Moving Castle was spending peaceful daily lives waiting to land on unfamiliar land.

"Congratulations on your promotion!"

"Boss. We believed in you!"

The Dwarf warriors praised their leader while drinking mushroom tea. They had self-imposed a drinking ban with an operation approaching.

A gold badge sparkled on the chest of Rampage laughing heartily. Ten fists wearing gauntlets were intricately crafted; each fist represented a hundred-man squad.

Rampage was promoted to thousands-commander marking this expedition to Sicily.

"Honestly, anyone other than our Boss being selected would be complete nonsense, wouldn't it?"

"If another guy was selected, he should instantly spit out the badge. Assuming he possesses a conscience."

The previous thousands-commander had entered a semi-retired state due to age, and it was a situation where the hundred-commanders were competing over who would succeed him.

In the midst of that, Rampage, who had consecutively secured the highest merits, compensation, and connections, being selected was a foretold consequence.

"Honestly, it did feel a little regretful feeling like we were sidelined so far."

"What can we do? Since situations continually demanded mobility."

Fighting monsters predominantly inside enemy territory, Eugene operated forces revolving around cavalry.

Because of that, the Dwarves were primarily mobilized for tasks like guarding the castle and conducting internal repairs.

Though they played a part in subjugating the forest spirit this time, this level isn't nearly enough. The Hammer Brotherhood was still hungry.

"This battlefield is the stage for infantry."

As a dwarf downing his tea hoisted his hammer upwards, identically hammers rose from all around.

"Let us show the Lord! How the Hammer Brotherhood levels enemies to the ground!"

At Rampage's words, everyone cheered and stomped their feet.

General infantry combat can sometimes look like child's play when viewed from afar. Maintaining formations facing off with shields to the front, clashing spears and swords 'clink clank'.

Then as they fall one by one, a new soldier from behind fills the gap, repeating that until the side no longer able to maintain it is routed.

However, the combat of the Hammer Brotherhood is of a different dimension than such trivial fighting.

The hammers they swing flatten every enemy standing their ground blocking the way. Much like the leveling work doing ground preparation before construction.

"Since he too is a knight, it isn't strange that he is absorbed in cavalry. We must show the charm of the infantry in abundance using this opportunity."

Rumble.

In that moment, the Moving Castle vibrated subtly. The glass tubes that emitted bright light from the ceiling flickered with a static noise.

"Seems we are finally departing."

The existing Dwarf warriors clenched their fists tightly.

"It's fine man. Since we arrive in the blink of an eye."

"You won't die, geez."

Conversely, the newly joined Dwarves looked around frantically with frightened faces. Their beards spread out in all directions like chestnut burrs.

It was because, despite possessing no magical talent, they detected the tremendous torrential current of mystery swirling through the entire castle. It felt like entering a massive storm in soul form.

Flash!

Along with a massive flash of light, the Moving Castle ascended from the Appen Peninsula.

Heading towards a new land, taking numerous new family members. So the master of the castle may clutch the promised land in his hands.