A month slipped by like sand through my fingers.
During that time, Riot Castle faced several fierce battles, but emerged victorious each time, holding its ground.
Then, on the day a garden was established in Riot Castle, the missionary group in the Capital began to move.
Finally, a nationwide Missionary Work had begun.
Though I already knew of their plan, when I used Divine Revelation a few days later to check the political situation of the kingdom, I was greatly surprised.
The twenty missionary groups moved far more swiftly and efficiently than I had anticipated.
The territories outside the Capital, as if relieving a long hunger, willingly embraced the new religion.
Except for the lands neighboring Riot Castle, most regions had already passed through the hands of the missionary groups.
Day by day, the number of believers and followers increased so rapidly it was hard to keep track.
Even now, their numbers were still growing at an astonishing pace.
“You sure picked the right partners.”
I thought of the Barentis Kingdom’s king and Trantis Marquess.
The king made an unprecedented decision in this world by declaring Hor as the state religion.
Trantis Marquess not only led the missionaries in the Capital, but also devised the Doctrine Plan and further sought to uplift the Baren Spirit in tandem with the Hor Church.
It was nothing short of a Revolution.
Barentis had chosen the Hor Church as the Support Base of Revolution to revive its crumbling nation.
None of those bold decisions posed any harm to me.
“What are you thinking so deeply about?”
As I stood absentmindedly atop the castle wall, one of the Knights of the Alliance approached, trying to start a conversation.
“Just thinking, you cowards have grown quite a bit.”
“Hah! Cowards, you say? Where else can you find real men like us?”
Teasing him a little made the knight respond with mock annoyance.
He even complained, asking how long I was going to keep bringing up the stories from the Undead War, his lips sticking out in protest.
Swoosh—
Then, the knight drew his sword and held it up.
“Look at this. Isn’t this the proof of a true man? Hahaha!”
A cluster of light clung to the finely honed blade.
The knight’s sword was a Lowest-Ranked Sacred Sword.
“The Blessing of Hor that shines even brighter than the stars in the night sky! This means I’ve received the Recognition of Hor as a Saint Knight.”
It was I who had imbued that sword with Faith, but the knight was too busy boasting about his weapon.
I found it so absurd, it was almost endearing.
“After cutting down hundreds of Undead and again hundreds of Plague Monsters…”
“Ah, that’s enough, enough.”
As he suddenly launched into his tale of valor, I waved him off.
This fellow was already known among the other knights for his endless chatter.
If I kept listening, it would never end.
Looking sheepish, the knight scratched the back of his head and grinned awkwardly.
“Well, to be honest, other Saint Knights also have Sacred Swords, you know.”
At least he knew that much.
Thirty Lowest-Ranked Paladins and five Lower-Ranked Saint Knights.
I finally bestowed the rewards I’d been putting off for them.
Their rewards were Sacred Swords, Sacred Spears, and Sacred Talismans.
To the Lowest-Ranked Paladins, I gave the lowest-rank; to the Lower-Ranked Saint Knights, I gave the lower-rank. I bestowed Faith in accordance with each rank.
Thanks to the explosive increase of Faith from their work in the Capital, there was no strain.
“I’ll be off now.”
“Yes, sir! Please rest well!”
Glancing briefly at the talkative knight, I descended from the castle wall.
Lifting my head high, I saw the world tree encircling the citadel.
Even compared to a month ago, it had grown larger and more vibrant.
Riot Castle had changed greatly.
All sorts of war supplies now brimmed with a holy aura, and the soldiers’ Faith grew stronger by the day.
Yet, even with these changes, it was far from enough.
The Plague Monsters had already evolved to the Second Generation; just those that had attacked Riot Castle in the past month were enough to form a mountain.
‘They’ll only keep getting stronger.’
There was as much difference between the First Generation and Second Generation as between a Lower-Ranked and Intermediate Knight.
What comes next needs no explanation.
Up until now, Riot Castle alone had managed to hold them off, but if the enemies reached the Third Generation, we’d pay a heavy price.
That was not the outcome I wanted.
I wanted to both raise the Baren Spirit, which had been crumbling, and solidify the Hor Church’s foundation.
To do that, we had to avoid any costly battles that would be plainly visible to all.
“I’ll have to expand our power in advance.”
***
“Ugh…”
The Red Orc drooped his shoulders.
The occasional snort he let out sounded just like a sigh.
“Hor, my friend, I asked you to send Cupid, but you completely separated us instead! Isn’t this too much?”
Huger raged all by himself.
Even as an Orc made a scene in the middle of the castle, those around them seemed utterly calm.
It had become part of daily life.
“Mary, my dear! How are you faring?”
After all his fussing, Huger collapsed on the ground with a thud.
His head was thrown back toward the sky.
“I spend every night sleepless, longing for you, Mary…!”
Mary’s decision to remain in the Capital and strengthen her Faith must have been a heartbreaking farewell for Huger.
His pitiful wails echoed throughout the castle.
“Seriously… doesn’t he ever get tired of this?”
Just then, someone approached him.
“Huff! First-class orc…? What is it?”
After crying for a while, Huger slurred his words.
Aaron looked down at him with an expression that seemed to say, “What a hopeless fellow.”
“The Saint of the Hor Church is calling you. Stop crying and get going.”
“A great human warrior? H-has there been word from Mary…?”
“No. I don’t think so. The atmosphere was rather serious.”
Huger’s shoulders slumped even lower.
“He’s waiting, so hurry up and go. And don’t wander off.”
With Aaron’s impatient urging—who acted like his guardian—Huger finally moved his feet.
He walked for a while.
“Huger! Did you cause another commotion? I thought all the glass in the windows would break.”
Avart appeared, scolding him not to cry inside the castle.
Huger just pouted his lips.
“If you’ve ever been in unrequited love, you’d know. You act like it’s none of your business just because you haven’t!”
“I’m more on the receiving end of love than the giving, you know.”
Avart grinned slyly.
“As you can see, I’m quite good looking.”
“Good looking, my foot! Huff! Even Moritz is a hundred times more handsome than you!”
What followed was a childish argument.
Who’s more manly, who’s more attractive…
Then Huger shouted,
“This won’t do. Shall we have a drink together?”
Drinking out of nowhere?
“Whoever can drink more is the more handsome one! Huff!”
That thickheaded orc had already forgotten about being summoned by Aaron.
***
I waited for Huger.
I sat quietly in my chair, waiting and waiting.
But there was no sign of him, so I erased, one by one, the bits of news about Mary that I had meant to share with him.
“This bastard…”
Before I knew it, night had fallen.
There was nothing left to erase regarding Mary.
Only then did I step outside.
“Hey!”
“Hey!”
I grabbed people passing through the corridor, asking about Huger’s whereabouts.
It turned out Huger and Avart were drinking together.
Suppressing the throbbing vein at my temple, I walked on.
“Huff!”
How far did I walk?
From a distance, I heard the snorting laughter of a drunk pig.
Fine.
Enjoy yourselves while you can.
Soon, your grunting will turn to squealing.
Avart! A weapon is just a weapon in the end!
Grinding my teeth, I stopped at the sound of their conversation.
Then, I quietly peeked at their drinking session.
I saw two broad backs sitting side by side, sharing drinks in the barracks.
“Some people assign meaning to their weapons, talking about fate and such! But in the end, a weapon is just a tool!”
The owner of the red back gripped his axe as he spoke.
What on earth were they talking about?
Curious, I suppressed my presence and listened in.
“This axe doesn’t move on its own to harm others. It’s only when I swing it that it splits the flesh and bone of my enemies. I don’t know what meaning you’ve assigned to your axe, but I hope you use it for its intended purpose.”
Huger’s speech was unexpectedly sincere.
“But… this is an axe that tempts even traitors to betray.”
By contrast, Avart’s back was small, and his voice weak.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe Avart was finally revealing his hidden feelings.
One thing was certain: he was not the reliable knight of Helga he usually was.
“Of course, it’s a fine axe. The demon axe that mesmerized Poland Helga. But I’m afraid. If I, too, become intoxicated by this despicable, easy power…”
I closed my eyes at Avart’s words.
In my mind’s eye, I saw Avart defending Poland Helga.
And the face of a knight who finally learned the truth.
I thought Avart would shake it off soon enough.
The demon axe is a truly fine weapon and Artifact, and if it was to be used, I’d always imagined it would be by Avart’s hand.
But I never imagined Avart would be afraid of the axe’s very power itself.
The man I knew was not someone to be swayed by mere power.
As I frowned at this frustration—
“Then give it to me.”
Huger blurted out those words without a second thought.
He said it so casually, I wondered if I’d misheard.
“Y-yes?”
“If you’re not going to use it, I’ll take it. Good weapons are always welcome.”
It was no wonder Avart’s expression stiffened.
“Don’t orcs value courage? I’ve never heard of an orc wielding an Artifact.”
“If letting a good weapon go to waste is courage, I’ll just fight with a stone. Huff!”
Huger reached out his hand.
Avart blocked him with his body, as if Huger might really take the demon axe.
“W-wait. That doesn’t mean I won’t use it!”
“What is it, then? You don’t want to give it away, but you’re too afraid to use it?”
“…I just haven’t made up my mind. I’m not sure if I can truly wield this axe’s power without being consumed by it.”
Avart, mumbling with his lips, looked unusually small.
It was time for me to finally show myself.
“Ahem.”
I purposely cleared my throat loudly.
Avart’s expression was truly a sight to see.
He looked just like someone caught doing something wrong.
“Great human warrior! You sure have a nose for alcohol!”
Huger welcomed me as if he’d forgotten he’d ignored my summons.
I couldn’t even be angry anymore.
I plopped down next to Huger.
At some point, a drink found its way into my hand.
Gulp, I took a sip and opened my mouth.
“Avart.”
“Yes, Saint of the Hor Church.”
“If I thought you’d be intoxicated by power, I’d never have given it to you in the first place.”
It might have sounded like I was admitting to eavesdropping, but I had to say this much.
Avart was silent for a long time.
“In the next battle, I’ll stand at the forefront.”
With that one, quiet line, he left his seat.
Watching him go, Huger spoke.
“Avart’s just shy, that’s all.”
“Is that so.”
I tilted my drink, watching Avart’s retreating back.
Then Huger threw his arm over my shoulder.
“Huff! One more drink!”
As he tried to refill my empty glass, I shook my head.
Though I’d overheard a drunken confession, I’d only come here because I had an important question to ask.
***
Orcs hate beating around the bush.
So I decided to be direct.
“You ever thought about becoming king?”
The red orc’s eyes widened.
It was a rare sight, seeing Huger so shocked.
King.
Or Overlord.
To orcs, those words held a very special meaning.
Huger’s eyes, so wide a moment ago, slowly sank.
Instead, the corners of his mouth lifted.
The face that shimmered with excitement and joy was unmistakably that of an orc.
“If that is a Divine Revelation, I will gladly obey.”
Thump thump!
He pounded his chest as he spoke.