Chapter 102: Spreading Wildfire (2)

Tasar took a deep breath.

The cool air filled his lungs, and the fresh energy tingled in his heart.

It felt as though he was being embraced in the arms of the Great Mother. No, that was exactly right.

From this very moment, this place was the Garden.

Yet Tasar and the other Elves could only bow their heads with mournful expressions.

Even as they stood in the beloved Garden, the shadow of anguish refused to leave their faces.

Was this truly the right thing to do?

Could they trust humans?

What stood hidden before Adelgarten and Richard was only concern and worry.

But in the end, regret came too late.

When Tasar raised his head, only the lonely glow of the green Magic Array remained. Since the true form had descended to this land, there was no reason for Adelgarten to be here in spirit.

“Mother.”

A voice, weary and cracked, escaped his lips.

“Does Mother wish for harmony between our people and others?”

There was no answer to that sorrowful question.

Instead, the distant howls of the uninvited rioters who had not received the Invitation of the World Tree echoed from afar.

How dare they enter this place.

Tasar and the Elves donned their masks and pulled their hoods low over their faces.

No matter what, from now on, this land was the Garden, the Sanctuary where the Great Mother resided.

“We are the Order of Guardians, and the ones who tend are Garden Keepers.”

They could not entrust the protection of the Garden to these unreliable humans alone.

Though their bodies cried out for rest from the hard labor, they led their weary selves out of the room.

The air outside the fortress was burning with tension.

The Elves climbed atop the walls of Riot Castle, where the full might of its defenders clamored in battle.

And what they saw before their eyes—

“Fight! Don’t let a single one get up here!”

“Pour the Holy Water!”

Commanders and Knights shouted, their faces red, and soldiers hurried about at their orders.

Their bravery and mighty presence thundered across the entire rampart.

At this moment, these humans were Guardians of the Garden, a final bulwark against those who would violate the Sanctuary.

That was the very duty, and privilege, entrusted to the humans of Riot Castle.

Shush shush shush—!

A fierce storm of arrows rained down like a downpour.

Plague Monsters, battered by the savage torrent, twisted in agony, unable to endure the pain.

To those who tried to dig their claws into the walls, Holy Water poured down like a waterfall.

With screams of agony as if burned, they fell from the walls.

“Don’t be afraid! We will protect this castle!”

“Kill them all!”

Even those soldiers who once cowered now encouraged one another as though they themselves were commanders. The courage that spread like wildfire was high and unyielding.

Watching this, the Elves held their tongues. In these humans, they saw a reflection of themselves, though they strove to ignore it.

Truly, it was an ironic thing.

What the Elves had once built up through their own achievements and concerns against other races now blossomed among the humans.

Suppressing their complicated feelings, the Elves scattered along the ramparts.

“I will assign a guard to you!”

A distant commander, having spotted Tasar and the Elves, called out.

Tasar, looking over the rampart, muttered quietly,

“What need has a Guardian for a guardian?”

That small murmur was lost in the din of the battlefield, heard by none.

But the commander soon realized that these ones had no need of any guards.

Kwang!

A tremendous explosion rocked the battlefield. The magic unleashed was faster and stronger than usual.

Here and now, the ones enjoying the greatest privilege were the Elves.

For they were Guardians and Garden Keepers. In this Garden, they needed no one’s help.

“Those who have defiled the Sanctuary, you will not escape judgment.”

The magic of the Elves, who claimed to love peace, became divine punishment to those who shattered it.

Fiery flames scorched the earth, and lightning crashed down. Dozens, hundreds of monsters perished along its path.

And the ones defending this Garden were not only the Elves.

“Open the gate !”

Suddenly, the Lord of Riot Castle shouted.

Creak.

The heavy, massive castle gate began to rise.

The gathered Knights could not hide their excitement, bodies trembling with anticipation.

Some even tussled, each trying to secure a better position.

“Hey, this is my spot! Don’t even think about it!”

Richard, at the very front of the Stormtroop, jeered, while Avart glared at him.

Soon, the south gate of Riot Castle was flung wide open.

“Ku-eeek—!”

The monsters shrieked and charged toward the open gate.

Their wild assault was enough to make anyone falter, but the Stormtroop standing to meet them merely tightened their grips on their weapons.

Thump thump.

Hearts pounded fiercely.

There was no room for fear.

Such was the strength and vigor flowing through their bodies, so abundant, the spirit that spread like wildfire would not subside.

The Knights gazed at Richard with blazing eyes.

“We are the Order of Guardians.”

Richard’s voice was not loud, but to the attentive Knights, it rang clearer than anything.

Their morale, emboldened by his unwavering will, soared to the heavens.

As the enemy surged through the gate, the Stormtroop advanced.

Step by step, their march became a charge, and their charge became a storm that swept the rioters away.

The monsters that rushed in were cut down by the thousands.

The Knights, trampling those filthy corpses beneath their feet, pressed ever forward.

Countless monsters poured through the gate, but unable to pass the Knights, they fell one after another.

“Charge! Charge!”

With bodies and minds accelerating, the Knights burst from the gate, cleaving through the crimson tide.

Thud.

The gate closed a beat later.

“Kii, ki-eeek!”

As overwhelming firepower rained down upon the battlefield and the morale of the Knights pierced the sky, the red rioters were swept away like autumn leaves.

From atop the wall, Tasar watched Richard carve through the chaos.

And the Knights following behind him.

It was as though even that fierce spirit climbed up the ramparts.

It was almost laughable.

These were the very humans he had once found so disagreeable, yet somehow, their raging spirit now fired him up as well.

Tasar turned to look at his fellow kin. Their masked faces hid their expressions, but their trembling fingers betrayed their hearts.

***

The Knights waded through the crimson waves.

With sword and spear, they pressed onward.

It was like swimming through the mire of plague, but not one body was stained black.

The Benevolence of the World Tree.

Those blessed by the World Tree had no place for plague to take hold.

Slicing—!

At the tip of the Stormtroop, Richard swung his sword. On the white, sharp blade of the White Ghost, dirty blood streamed down in rivulets.

The White Ghost greedily drank in that blood, letting out a chilling wail.

Ordinarily, that sound would have been unsettling, even terrifying, enough to suppress with faith, but today it only incited them further.

A menacing red light of madness began to flicker from the blade.

Soon, the sinister aura grew, swelling ever larger.

“Kill them! Kill them all!”

“Let not a single one escape!”

The eyes of the Stormtroop, as they slaughtered the monsters, shone with wild light. Their swinging weapons were terribly fierce.

The madness that began at the very front consumed all the Stormtroop in its wake.

To lose this castle in battle would never be acceptable.

But this was the Garden.

Even that ferocious madness transformed into valor. The Knights may have been frenzied, but they never lost their sense, nor their sense of duty.

They only sought to defend the Garden with all their might.

“The light passes on the torch!”

“And we, who stand at the front, are the torch as well!”

The shout of the Stormtroop echoed over the battlefield.

That wild roar reached all the way up the ramparts, pounding at the hearts of the men.

“Not even the thinnest thread of darkness can swallow the light!”

“In the end, it is only themselves that wither and die!”

Soldiers and Knights, responding to the Stormtroop’s roar, sang out with all their might, as if unwilling to be outdone.

Their song never ended, blanketing the battlefield in its clamor.

“Waaaah—!”

Arrows soaked in oil rained down endlessly. Cannons fired without pause, and the soldiers hurled their spears with renewed strength.

With every shouted word of the song, the fervor grew, no different from the legendary victories of the Elves.

Simply listening stoked the fires of battle, and to join the chant filled them with strength.

“Truly astonishing.”

“This is…”

And the Elves felt the same.

Thump thump.

Mana pulsed madly with the racing heartbeats.

Everyone here was a Guardian of the Garden, a believer in Hor.

The Elves felt a sense of spiritual connection with the humans.

A bridge linking the two peoples.

Whether that was camaraderie or something else, the Elves could not say, but it was awkward, and yet more awkward still.

But for now, driving out the rioters invading the Garden was the priority.

Suppressing his complex emotions, Tasar drew the Magic Array.

***

The long battle finally came to an end.

Red corpses filled the space before Riot Castle.

But atop the rampart, not a single body remained—truly, a great victory for Riot Castle.

Huff, huff.

Men gulped for air, looking up at the sky.

High above, a Magic Array stretched across the entire castle.

They turned to look at the fortress.

The towering structure was wrapped by the immense World Tree, radiating a divine light.

No one raised a triumphant cheer or made a fuss.

Those gazing up at the World Tree simply turned away.

Tasar and the other Elves pulled their hoods even lower.

It was difficult to endure the countless gazes directed at them.

Hmm…

“Agh.”

That fiery spirit had vanished, leaving only awkward tension swirling through Riot Castle.

Breaking the silence and discomfort, the Lord of Riot Castle finally spoke.

“I won’t say much. Your wounds and history are too deep, too bitter for that.”

The Lord of Riot Castle met the eyes of the Elves before him. Though he forced a calm expression, his eyes trembled minutely.

The history of the Elves.

The Lord knew well how much they had suffered from the invasions and exploitation of humans.

And now, he could only imagine the feelings in their hearts.

When he first heard Richard’s plan to migrate the Garden, he could hardly believe it.

He swallowed hard at the bitter taste in his mouth and continued.

“I swear before Hor. We will protect this Garden no matter what, and we will honor our trust with you.”

No talk of gratitude, nor apologies on behalf of the humans.

Such things were unnecessary. A few shallow words could never heal wounds so deep.

All he could do was swear.

That, he believed, was the only thing that could truly earn their trust.

One short, unadorned word, rather than any ornate rhetoric, was what was needed.

Both the humans and the Elves of Riot Castle.

Clang!

The Knights of the Union raised their weapons high.

Their firm spirit seemed a declaration of faith.

The Elves gave no reply.

Their gaze, hidden behind masks, turned out beyond the ramparts. From afar, the Stormtroop was approaching.

“Remember those words you swore before Hor.”

Watching Richard walk toward them, Tasar spoke.