Chapter 244 - Burned Church (1)

The Great Mother's eyes, with their heavily drooping eyelids, were fixed on Vlad.

So was the sharp needle she held.

Sizzle-

"Ugh!"

The dense smell of burning flesh filled the air, mingling with the cigar smoke the Great Mother exhaled.

Every time the hot needle she held pierced Vlad's skin, the air in the room grew heavier, and the thick smoke became even denser.

"...I'll say it again, this is a curse."

Each stitch the Great Mother made left a lightning pattern on Vlad's skin.

The pattern that started on the back of Vlad's hand soon climbed up to his shoulder, covering his left arm.

"A curse that introduces impurities into another's world. Originally, we magicians devised it to fight knights."

Although he was trying to stay composed, the pain was already clearly visible on Vlad's face.

The tattoo the Great Mother of the Ruga tribe was inscribing wasn't just engraved on his skin, but on his very soul.

Vlad's face was already covered in cold sweat, the pain far more intense than he had expected.

"And I suppose you already know what those impurities are, don't you?"

Seeing Vlad nod silently, perhaps from the pain, the Great Mother set aside the pipe she held.

Well, there's no way you wouldn't know.

Because there was already someone within Vlad who had experienced the secret arts of the Ruga clan.

"Please, don't use this curse to deeply wound another's world."

Whoosh-!

With those words, the Great Mother expelled the mysterious smoke from her lungs onto Vlad's left arm.

The smoke, infused with the Great Mother's sincerity, seeped into Vlad's arm, completing the drawing.

"…Because no matter how deeply you stab others, in the end, the world that will be hurt is your own."

The tattoo, which at first had only been an outline, began to fill with color.

The pattern of black lightning grew sharper and clearer.

Long ago, the mystery of the Ruga clan, said to have been used to mark the most perfect dragon, was now entirely black and sharp, like the lightning that first bonded Kihano and Vlad.

***

Numerous soldiers moved, leaving behind the barren land visible in the distance.

These were the imperial and central forces gathered in the capital, Brigantes, advancing toward Namarka, the city of outlaws.

Unlike when they pursued Vlad, the central army, which had now grown to tens of thousands, continued advancing north without stopping.

"Commander. It's reported that Count Gaidar has just passed through the Western Gate."

"...Really?"

Dragon Blood Duke Sarnus, the commander-in-chief of the Northern Expeditionary Force, widened his eyes in intrigue at Mirshea's report from the side.

"It was a fortress blocking a narrow gorge. Has he already passed through?"

"Well..."

As Sarnus said, Fort Holland, which blocked the west, was a natural fortress built along a narrow canyon.

Naturally, passing through such terrain required many sacrifices, but for some reason, Count Gaidar, worth little more than half a coin, had managed to pass through very easily.

"It wasn't Count Gaidar who conquered it; Count Bayezid voluntarily withdrew his troops."

But the brilliant achievement of Count Gaidar was nothing more than the empty shell Peter had thrown away.

Sarnus's gaze deepened upon hearing Mirshea's report that Peter had voluntarily relinquished the advantageous position.

"As expected of the Northern Fox. He was prepared for any eventuality."

Bayezid and Baranov, one of the two pillars supporting the North.

They were certainly very different from the weaklings wielded by the Blood Dragon.

"I had thought to cut off their supply lines if necessary, but it seems that option is no longer available."

No matter how favorable the terrain, if you don't have the means to hold it, it's useless.

And Peter already knew that for the distant northern allies to fully control Fort Holland, they would have to pay more in costs than they would gain in benefits.

"We'll change course. From now on, we'll move along the eastern route."

Clicking his tongue at Peter's refusal to take the bait, Sarnus decided to abandon his original plan and execute his second option.

"We'll start by taking northern Maringen. After securing that, we'll head directly upwards."

Not northwest toward Bayezid, but northeast toward Timur, the Iron Duke.

Now that Bayezid was firmly tied down by the Golden Duke and Gaidar, the army led by the Dragon Blood Duke had decided to march straight to Bastopol, the heart of the North, where the Iron Duke resided.

"…But father, no matter how many we are, dividing our forces doesn't seem like a wise choice."

Seeing the Dragulia banner suddenly lifted, Mirshea began to admonish Sarnus, concerned.

Though it was part of the plan, it was obvious that splitting the unified front into two would place a heavy burden on the expeditionary force.

"There will be great losses."

"…"

It might be possible to end the war quickly, but it was a choice that inevitably involved significant sacrifices.

However, there wasn't the slightest hesitation in Sarnus's voice as he prepared to push tens of thousands of troops into the cold, snowy fields.

"I know, son."

He simply whispered softly to his son with the voice of a fierce dragon.

"Of course, many humans will die."

What were these men marching north for?

Were they there to subdue the North, which had rebelled against the Empire, or were they mere puppets moved by the dragon's breath in his quest for perfection?

"Don't forget, Mirshea. The victory we seek lies elsewhere."

"...Yes."

The answer to that was found in the banner now flying in front of Sarnus.

The Dragulia banner had a slightly different design from the original flag that depicted the beheading of a dragon.

"This father wants to show you the world of dragons as it was in its perfect form in ancient times."

Behind Sarnus's head, as he smiled kindly at his son, a banner flew.

The Dragulia banner, now standing proudly before the imperial standard, was emblazoned not with its former tattered appearance but with the enormous wings of a golden dragon.

****

It was a room filled with pure, white sunlight.

A room so bright you could feel the softness of the fluffy quilt just by lying in it.

However, Vlad, who should have been lying there, was instead sitting at a small desk, intently studying the maps laid out in front of him.

"And now?"

"…Here."

Vlad's voice sounded somewhat irritated as an old finger pointed to a spot on the map.

As the circle on the map expanded with each indication, Vlad's brows furrowed more and more.

"You're not lying this time, are you?"

"I've never lied to you, little brother."

"Go to hell."

Vlad began to smirk sarcastically at the voice of Radu next to him.

"How is it that someone like you got caught while trying to escape?"

"…"

Today's sunlight streaming through the window made Vlad's blonde hair shine intensely.

But it was the deep blue of Vlad's eyes that weighed more heavily on Radu than the blonde hair he lacked.

Since the battle, the blue in Vlad's eyes had deepened, reminding Radu of their father, whom he had feared so much.

"If you were going to leave, you should've done it quietly. Why did you try to steal Noir?"

"…Because he's fast."

Even thinking about it again, the aged Radu stood helplessly next to Vlad, who laughed as if it were absurd.

He had wrinkled skin around his neck, where a black thorn tattoo was marked.

Vlad smiled coldly as he looked at Radu, who bore the same golden mark as their father.

"…We made a promise back then, remember? That you would help until we destroyed the Order of Dragons."

In the outlaw city filled with smoke, Radu had drunk Vlad's blood and made that promise.

Stop the Dragon Slayer Knights who were currently attacking the Ruga tribe.

The oath marked in the blood he swallowed still coursed through Radu's veins, and he still wanted a fair reward for it.

"My blood isn't that cheap, is it?"

Radu only nodded as he looked at Vlad, who smiled calmly.

Indeed, as Vlad had said, the contract they made in Namarka had not yet been fulfilled.

The knights led by the oldest dragon still roamed the continent, and Radu's fair price had yet to be properly paid.

Drip- Drip-

Bright red drops of blood began to fall from the tip of Vlad's finger, which had been lightly cut with a dagger.

Radu swallowed hard, unconsciously, as he watched the vivid colors slowly seep into the teacup.

"…Where is this?"

"Where?"

"This place you just pointed out."

Vlad said as he unfolded the two maps he held.

One was a map marked by Jager.

The other, the one Radu had just indicated.

Vlad, who had been tracking Ramashthu's whereabouts based on testimonies from knights who had encountered evil beings, had finally found a place where their testimonies overlapped.

"Achiuk."

Achiuk, one of the villages under the Barony of Salonta.

However, this village, now abandoned, was only a week further east of Dobrechi, the town he had visited previously.

"Yes, I remember. It was there that we met the dark sorcerers."

Radu Dragulia, the son of the Dragon Blood Duke, had once been powerful enough to command Dragulia's army in the northern city of Moshiam.

Even though he was now in such a pitiful state, the information he had dealt with back then would still be etched in his mind.

"It was there that we agreed to cooperate. At the time, the alliance was clear."

"Can you guide me there?"

"Y-yes. I've been to that church once."

At the mention of the word "church," Vlad's eyes began to gleam.

However, the bloodthirsty dragon didn't notice the intensity in Vlad's gaze and continued speaking hastily, answering questions that hadn't even been asked.

"A ruined church. A completely burned village, with the church standing in the middle."

"…"

"It's been uninhabited for decades. Without a guide, it'll be hard to find."

A church standing alone in a burned village.

Vlad silently folded the map he was holding, remembering a scene that felt familiar even though he hadn't been there.

"Drink."

The old Radu quickly drank from the cup of tea as soon as Vlad permitted him.

Though the mark of the oath on his neck began to fade, Vlad didn't stay to see it as he walked out of the room.

[I can feel it. I think that's probably the right place.]

The burned village of Achiuk. Now a ruined place where no one lives.

As Vlad thought about the scene there, he felt as if he could hear children singing in his ears.

"Yes. I think so, too."

Through the window, a bright corridor came into view.

The children of Ausurin could now run and play freely, without worry.

Vlad paused for a moment as he watched the elves and Ruga children playing together, unconcerned about their race.

"…This time, I will finish this."

It was said that the church, long burned down, had been built by a noble nun.

The name of the woman who held many orphans with no place to go in her arms was that of a saint recognized by the Vatican. Tramasu.

Vlad looked at the tattoo on the back of his hand and softly murmured her name.