Chapter 44
Valdemar had been losing sleep increasingly often these days.
It was all because of Astin, who had recently started running wild like a madman.
His recent actions were on an entirely different level from the delinquent antics of his past.
What Astin had done lately was tantamount to a gamble that could easily ruin the family.
He had put the family's core asset, a mine, up as collateral, claiming he would buy up the promissory notes issued by Patrian, a massive merchant consortium.
Even so, Valdemar had stamped his seal.
Buying up the notes would allow him to recover the principal, and he wanted to keep trusting his son, who had shown such a changed side, to the very end.
At the heart of it all was Mermaid's Tears, the cosmetic that had recently upended high society.
Astonishingly, it was a product developed in Cardenos's workshop.
He would swallow up a reasonably sized merchant guild and bring in a reasonable amount of money, surely.
Valdemar had placed his hopes within the bounds of what he could imagine.
"……Is this true?"
"Yes…."
In Valdemar's hands was a report concerning the distribution of 'Mermaid's Tears.'
He could not hide the trembling in both hands.
He had hoped it would at least leave them a decent profit……
Yet the final settlement paid into Cardenos, combining cash and promissory notes, was truly enormous.
'At this level.'
It was enough to exceed the quarterly tax revenue collected by the entirety of Cardenos's territory.
This was the revenue it had generated after only two weeks since launch.
Before the shock had even faded, the head butler continued his report.
"That isn't all. They say they've finished securing all the military supplies, preserved provisions, and magic stones needed for the expedition. The western supply lines are also under perfect control."
"……Huh."
The more he heard, the more the report forced him to doubt his own ears.
No matter how ample the funds, securing supplies in such a short period was no easy task.
It was impossible without perfectly coordinating the Empire's logistics network.
Astin had done all that alone?
Strictly speaking, he had only laid out the board. It was highly likely that he had left the actual work to his own people.
Someone like Irina, the newly appointed guildmaster of Patrian, for instance.
"……."
Valdemar lowered his gaze to the broad desk.
The morning edition of the Imperial Capital Daily, distributed throughout the Imperial Capital that morning, lay open.
The front-page headline. Beneath it, bold lettering.
[ Recruitment for the Ashen Forest Expedition ]
[Extreme cold, monsters, dense miasma, endless darkness, unceasing danger, survival uncertain]
[Pay Undetermined]
[Infinite Honor and Glory upon Success]
[Organizer | House Cardenos]
[Commander-in-Chief | Astin von Cardenos]
He had raised funds through the cosmetics, seized complete control of the supplies and supply lines, and then released the expedition notice once every preparation was complete.
The whole process had meshed like the precise gears of a machine.
Especially this absurd notice.
Honor and glory. Valdemar's gaze lingered on those words for a long while.
"……I thought it was impossible."
Why?
The outline of the expedition was slowly beginning to take shape in his mind.
***
A shabby mercenary guild on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital.
The place reeked of acrid tobacco smoke and sour beer.
"Puhahaha! Cardenos has finally gone mad!"
At the central table, uproarious laughter erupted around a single newspaper.
From that day on, the Imperial Capital and the Empire at large were thrown into an uproar.
There was only one reason: the bizarre notice issued by Cardenos.
"What the hell. Survival uncertain? Pay undetermined? Are they screwing with us?"
"They might as well be recruiting slaves. I could understand if they paid well."
"Damn it, what's money good for if you're not alive to spend it? Am I supposed to use it as fare for the afterlife? I wouldn't go even for hundreds of millions of shillings, goddammit."
Even the mercenaries, who lived rough lives, spat on the floor.
"I couldn't go there even with two lives, no, ten. The moment you go in, you'll come back out as monster shit."
"Why do you think the pay's undetermined? It means they won't need to pay since everyone who goes is going to die anyway."
"Honor and glory, my ass. Once you're all dead, what good is that so-called honor?"
"Nobles are all like that. People who gild their own reputations. You can practically see them thinking, 'Die for us! Then it'll be an honorable death!'"
The crowd's reaction was nothing but cynicism and ridicule.
Anyone with common sense—or even the slightest instinct for self-preservation—would not give it a second glance.
[ Commander-in-Chief | Astin von Cardenos ]
People's attention moved past the Ashen Forest and Cardenos before finally settling on the name Astin.
They held back their words only because insulting a noble was a crime. Their thoughts were largely the same.
'The little brat. Why's he acting so high and mighty when he isn't even the head of the family?'
'The Grand Duke who approved this is an idiot too. Cardenos is on its last legs.'
'Astin must be that womanizer from the Founding Festival. Did he deliberately throw out bait at the Founding Festival too? Seems like he's doing this because he wants attention.'
A hell beyond human ken, where even ten lives would not be enough.
On top of that, the man in charge was a mere child who had only just come of age.
Who would entrust their life to some greenhorn instead of the Grand Duke? Only corpses in need of funeral money would come flocking.
That was how ordinary people viewed the Ashen Forest.
Yet the world was vast, and there were always those who walked paths beyond common sense.
"……."
At a secluded table in the noisy mercenary guild, one man sat in silence.
He wore an old, threadbare robe pulled deeply over his head.
A black-iron greatsword as large as a grown man hung across his back.
Swish—
The man's rough, clumsy fingers slowly traced the newspaper article.
They passed over Cardenos and Astin before stopping at one place.
[―Infinite Honor and Glory]
A strange light flickered in his dull eyes.
Bagot, a wandering knight who had roamed the continent without purpose.
He had been growing weary of the false peace and decaying daily life.
To him, 'survival uncertain' could not be frightening. If anything, it was welcome.
The threat to his life was merely an adornment that would make honor and glory shine brighter.
Bagot silently rose from his seat.
An untouched mug of beer and a single silver coin sat forlornly on the table.
"Hey, mister! Where are you off to?"
One of the mercenaries who had been snickering called out to him.
Bagot did not look back as he kicked open the door and left.
He would immediately arrange a carriage bound for the West.
There was not a hint of hesitation in his stride.
Because he was a knight who had forged the Five Rings, a knight of hardship.
*
This strange phenomenon was not confined to the mercenary guilds.
'I don't want to enter a monastery, and I don't want to start a merchant guild. All I have is this body and sword, so what's there to think about?'
The second and third sons of noble houses, who had to leave home and make their own way.
To them, the Ashen Forest was both a gamble staking their lives and an opportunity that would never come again.
If they merely returned alive, their reputations would change overnight.
Who would they be? Why, the 'Conquerors of the Ashen Forest.'
They might be knighted in an instant, or be granted a respectable baronial title and fertile lands by the Imperial Family.
And the undetermined pay might in fact exceed their wildest imaginations.
Wasn't House Cardenos the one raking in money these days?
Among the nobles, the source of Mermaid's Tears was now an open secret.
"We'll find out the pay when we get there."
They threw themselves onto carriages bound for the West.
……The fallen nobles who had lost their houses felt much the same.
"If I make it back alive, I can rebuild the family."
A wretched life with neither compromise nor even hope.
If they could succeed by putting their lives up as collateral, they would wager even two lives.
Thus, most boarded carriages bound for the West for the sake of their own futures.
But not everyone was like that.
"An unexplored hell! Monsters worse than the eternal permafrost! What a fine place to be buried!"
The 'Bone-Raking Hand Tribe Alliance,' condemned as savages.
They had failed to settle into the unfamiliar place and remained outsiders.
But life held no importance for them. Life was merely a process.
What mattered was the result.
In other words, how they died was what interested them.
"Honor and glory call to us! Bellutak! My brother! What say you!"
"I feel the same, Bural-tak! At last, the time has come for us to die!"
"Hwaha-ha! It will make a fine grave! Warriors! Valhalla calls us!"
"""Woooooaaah!!"""
The warriors' hearts and legs raced together.
The spark Astin had struck was enough to set the warriors in motion.
*
Around the same time.
Crown Prince Zenon sat deep in a top-of-the-line velvet sofa. He had already received the report.
"Astin of Cardenos has declared an expedition to the Ashen Forest?"
"Yes, Your Highness. The notice has spread throughout the Empire."
"So it wasn't mere bravado."
The fact that Astin had kept his promise pleased him.
However, it was foolish beyond measure.
The Ashen Forest was the worst den imaginable, one that even the Imperial Army's elite knights could not handle.
It was obvious the expedition would become a funeral procession, not an expedition.
Zenon swirled the glass of red wine. A faint smile curled at his lips.
'Good thing I funded the war effort.'
He shouted for joy inwardly, keeping his jubilation hidden to preserve his dignity.
After news of the Imperial military funding spread, Zenon had won the hearts of the Empire's people.
In truth, public sentiment meant nothing to Zenon.
He was simply pleased that a romantic rival who coveted Lucia would be dying for his benefit.
Of course, Astin might fail and still return alive.
Zenon had already devised a plan for that possibility.
"Send word to the Imperial Capital Daily. Tell them to keep feeding the fire. Make sure Astin's conquest of the Ashen Forest isn't forgotten."
"Yes, Your Highness."
The attention of the entire world would pour onto Astin, and it would never die down.
If he came back alive, he would only fall into an even more miserable ruin. It might even be better for him to die of shame.
"Arrogance can kill a man. This is why people ought to be humble."
The Crown Prince raised his wineglass with a pleased smile.
As if to toast Astin's certain death.
***
The headquarters of the Church of the Sun, located on the Empire's frontier.
It had once been a holy order that commanded the faith of the continent.
Its present reality, however, had fallen into complete ruin.
The stained glass in the vast ceiling had long since been shattered, and the marble pillars were cracked and crumbling in places.
The pious hymns praising Solari had ceased entirely.
In the deserted, empty chapel, only an eerie wind lingered.
The only light was a single shaft of sunlight slanting through a gap in the roof.
"......."
In that place, where the sanctuary barely endured,
A woman knelt on one knee and prayed.
A greatsword was embedded deep in the marble floor. With her eyes closed, she rested both hands atop the pommel.
She maintained the neat, motionless posture until sunset.
How much time had passed?
The woman's long eyelashes trembled. Her tightly shut eyes slowly opened.
Red-gold eyes as though fragments of the sun had been embedded within them. Golden armor imbued with sacred energy.
Her red-gold hair flowed softly over her shoulders.
Shing—!
The woman drew the greatsword embedded in the floor in one swift motion.
As the blade emerged, the radiance sheathing it shone dazzlingly.
A holy sword forged by the blessing of Solari, the Sun God.
The woman had lived for eons, guarding the holy sword with no master.
While guarding it, she had waited for the master who would one day appear.
As the Keeper of the Holy Sword.
Clank!
She took up the holy sword in one hand and bound it in bandages. The dazzling radiance was concealed.
With the sword slung diagonally across her back, she raised one knee.
The woman's hand, clad in a rough gauntlet, felt across the floor. Soon, her fingertips caught a rustling sheet of paper.
It was the notice that had thrown the entire Empire into an uproar.
Her subdued red-gold eyes once again scanned the printed letters.
[Infinite Honor and Glory upon Success]
"A place of honor and glory."
The Keeper's solemn voice rang low through the empty chapel.
Honor and glory.
A bloodstained epithet that only warriors who crossed the brink of death could claim.
It was never granted to those who settled for peace and coveted vanity.
"If it is a place like that, then the master of the holy sword……"
The holy sword chose its master of its own will.
And that master was the one who shone most brilliantly in the darkness.
The Ashen Forest, the worst and most dreadful hell of all. Countless warriors were setting out to carve a path through it.
She had no doubt that someone worthy would appear there.
If someone worthy appeared yet refused to take up the holy sword.
Most had done exactly that, but if they refused yet again this time……
Clench—
The Keeper of the Holy Sword balled her hand into a fist.
She would force the holy sword into that person's hands, even if she had to beat them senseless.
That was how it had been for hundreds of years.
Her destination was Cardenos in the West.
The Keeper of the Holy Sword left the sanctuary, her golden cloak billowing behind her.