[Epio.]
“What the hell, Pleb.”
[Kill that bitch right now.]
“Huh? What are you tal—”
Clap!
I loudly clapped my hands to cut off the conversation between Plebelziam and Epio. Then, looking over everyone in the group, I spoke.
“We can’t afford to linger here any longer. Let’s head into the ruins already.”
Brenda agreed with me.
“As the Sub-Master of Blispiel said, if we stay put, the others will snatch all the contributions. Let’s get moving.”
Contributions for each party participating in the ruin exploration are calculated using the Church of Utility’s sacred artifact, the 『Causality Calculator (S)』. It’s a relic that automatically measures who contributed how much toward completing a shared objective.
In short, it’s an incredible item that prevents all sorts of political maneuvering in advance.
The calculator carried by the priest dispatched to Snowflower Swamp is a replica with relatively lower performance compared to the original, but it’s still a hundred, a thousand times more accurate than roughly arguing over who did better.
As I deliberately changed the subject, Plebelziam sent a murderous aura my way. If that sword’s body had eyes, it could have killed me or Clara with a glare alone.
Fundamentally, Plebelziam is a dragon-slaying sword.
Priestesses like Clara, who wield the authority of the Dragon God, must be existences he’d love nothing more than to tear apart.
“It’s going to be a long day.”
Muttering that with several layers of meaning, I entered the ruin’s entrance with the group.
It’s currently Dragon God Year 983, July — the height of summer.
Yet for some reason, frost covered the ruin entrance thickly, and as we proceeded inside, we reached sections blanketed in snow.
There’s no way snow could fall inside a cave, so the ruin itself must be maintaining the cold through some self-regulating mechanism. Among Magitech Empire-era ruins, there are several places that preserve unique environments while isolated from the outside.
Crunch! Crunch!
How many minutes had we advanced, stepping on the pure white snow, when a buzzing rang in my head?
[…What the hell are you doing, Aiden? With your high-performance precognition ability, you must know that girl’s true identity too. Do you really plan to keep a wench reeking of dragon stench right next to me?]
Pleb’s telepathic voice was laced with unmistakable anger. Until now, his curses had carried a playful edge, but this time he was dead serious. I’d told the group what would happen in Snowflower Swamp today, but for Epio, I’d only summarized the essentials. If the keyword “Priestess of the Sun” came up, Plebelziam would obviously flip out.
Recalling that Brenda’s [Sense] was fairly high, I fell back slightly and spoke in a low voice no one else could hear.
“You don’t know anything, Pleb.”
[What?]
“You said your memories come and go, right? You don’t even know why you hate the Dragon God.”
[That’s… probably because I’m a dragon-slaying sword.]
In the original novel, Plebelziam initially didn’t question his hatred for the Dragon God and its servants. But after Epio met Clara, and Pleb traveled with them, fragments of ancient memories resurfaced bit by bit, leading him to gradually doubt his own origins.
I planned to kickstart that anguish a few years early.
The origins of the weapon Plebelziam and the ego dwelling within it were one of the most crucial plot threads in Reca Chronicles. It was a MacGuffin with a numbering extremely close to [No. 001], and to recover it properly, I needed to start laying the groundwork now.
I told him.
“There’s nothing emptier than hatred without reason. Even if you fight because you hate someone, you should at least know why you’re fighting.”
[Damn brat, your tongue’s as slick as ever. Cut the nonsense and get to the point.]
“I know full well you’re not fond of the Dragon Priestess. But she’s closer to the Dragon God than anyone, and keeping her nearby might stimulate those old memories to resurface.”
“And here’s the clincher — do you really think Epio would just stab a girl his age to death because you told him to?”
Pleb is a sword with an ego, but without a wielder, he can’t act on his own. He can’t force Epio to do anything. There was mention of a sealed function similar to telekinetic sword control in wuxia novels, but it never appeared in the end.
[…Hmph! Fine, I’ll watch for now.]
Having no retort to my persuasion, he quietly retreated into his sheath.
“Phew…”
Letting out a sigh of relief, I turned my gaze to the women and saw Clara already chatting amiably with Linia.
“So Aiden and Chesa are engaged, and you left home together to come to a clan in Elanore?!”
“That’s right, Clara.”
“Wow, how romantic!”
I’d ordered Linia in advance to build rapport with Clara if we met her in the ruins, given her high affinity.
But seeing them like this, their personalities just seemed to click naturally.
In the original, Clara was incredibly lively and always the mood-maker in the protagonist’s party. Personally, I think the atmosphere of Reca Chronicles itself turned bleak rapidly after Part 2 largely because Clara disappeared.
Beside them, Epio was staring intently at Clara. Feeling the warm gaze, Clara turned to him and flashed a bright smile… and Epio blushed, hurriedly averting his eyes.
Ah… this is perfect.
Memories of mid-Part 1 in Reca Chronicles flooded back — the time when Epio and Clara traveled the world alone, pursued by the Dragon Horse Cult.
Sinking into that cozy feeling, my cheeks loosened involuntarily. A goofy smile settled on my lips, and my hands and feet tingled a bit. But this was the good kind of cringe.
“…Aiden? Why are you smiling so weirdly?”
“Hm!”
Before I knew it, Chesa had come over and asked that.
Snapping back to reality, I cleared my throat lightly.
Come to think of it, this wasn’t the time to leisurely enjoy a youth drama.
Deep in Snowflower Swamp, fanatics from the Dragon Horse Cult had already infiltrated in droves. Ancient ruins are secluded places rarely seen by outsiders, and they planned to abduct the Priestess of the Sun here without leaving a trace.
Moreover… given the gravity of the matter, not just mere grunts but one of the cult’s higher-ups was present. Confirming who that “higher-up” was would be the MacGuffin I’d recover here.
From the circumstances, that figure was likely one of the three vice-leaders of the Dragon Horse Cult, each a powerhouse rivaling the Continent’s Twelve Heroes.
To withdraw in time, I absolutely couldn’t let my guard down.
Crunch!
I pressed forward, stepping through snow that reached my ankles.
The group continued deeper into the ruins.
There were more paths than expected, and after branching three times, we’d completely separated from the other clan members who’d entered the same entrance.
Strangely, the Blispiel group advanced without the slightest hesitation at every fork. Aiden, the leader, chose the path, and the other three clan members — plus the oblivious Clara — followed without question.
Brenda, swept along by the atmosphere, fidgeted with the bracelets on both wrists while darting her eyes around.
“No one’s nearby.”
At this point, anything she did could easily be concealed. Plus, her identity as “Brenda Morillo” was slated for laundering once she transferred to Caracol proper, so even if the assassination went south, she could vanish forever.
But variables remained.
“That robed unidentified priestess girl and the weird sword-wielding boy.”
Narrowing her eyes, she glared at Epio and Clara.
She’d thoroughly studied the intel Chloeria provided on the other three, but those two were exceptions. Especially the red-haired boy — for some reason, he seemed wary of her.
…Am I overthinking it? Considering their young ages, neither should be much of a threat.
Steeling her resolve, Brenda slowed her pace ever so slightly, naturally positioning herself at the rear of the group.
“First spell — burn Aiden’s head clean off. Then close in fast and snap the panicked ducal girl’s neck.”
Visualizing the plan in her mind, she cautiously began chanting her main spell.
〈Flame Spear〉
A spear of fire formed in her hand.
Whoosh!
The moment it shot toward Aiden.
Spluuurt!
Epio slipped in between, taking the Flame Spear head-on. He’d sensed her killing intent with his 『Enemy Detection (B)』 trait and moved accordingly.
“…!”
Brenda’s expression twisted.
But with her wealth of combat experience, she immediately chanted the next spell…
“What the— compared to the fire I took in those ruins, this isn’t even hot!”
“What…!?”
Epio, having taken her main spell full-force, didn’t die. Far from it — there wasn’t even a scorch mark.
I smirked and said to Brenda.
“Perfect timing for your ambush.”
Hearing my icy voice, Brenda flinched. Looking again, the Blispiel members were fully in combat stance. Their movements were far too swift for a group caught off-guard.
“You already knew about me…!”
Realizing the situation, she bit her lip.
If she couldn’t silence Aiden’s group here, Brenda’s life would plummet into the abyss. Chloeria would cut her off like a lizard’s tail, leaving her hunted by the Grand Ducal house for the rest of her days.
Anxiety and urgency gripped her briefly.
Then Brenda smirked viciously.
“Ha! It doesn’t matter anyway. You blocked my spell with some trick just now, but there’s no way brats like you can beat—”
“Look around you, ma’am. You think we’re the only ones here?”
“…?!”
At those words, she glanced about — countless figures were approaching.
Clack, clack, clack!
They were masked figures draped in pure white.
Maces, spears, straight swords, scimitars, curved blades… every weapon imaginable, with zero uniformity.
Clack, clack, clack!
Their steps were eerily regular. At a glance, over forty figures moved with the precision of machines. Even stranger — not one of the masked figures spoke.
They were clearly living humans.
Yet no vitality emanated from them.
“What the hell are these guys…?”
Brenda stared blankly at the masked figures.
The approach of the white-masked fanatics… I’d detected it long ago using Plebelziam’s wave detection.
Seeing the novel’s description had made me wonder, but witnessing it firsthand — they really looked like the “KKK.”
These figures, dressed like a certain racist group from modern Earth, were all under the skill 『Fanatic Brainwashing (U)』.
Fanatic Brainwashing is a skill possessed by one of the Dragon Horse Cult’s vice-leaders. Once afflicted, cognitive ability plummets, turning the victim into a fanatic who faithfully obeys any order, no matter how irrational.
Sotiris, the mage I’d married into the Utland family, was nearing level 50, so he barely retained his ego despite the madness. But at lower levels, they degrade into mere puppets like these masked figures.
Long explanation short — they’re idiots easy to manipulate.
I shouted loudly enough for the fanatics to hear.
“Brenda! You said you knew where the Priestess of the Sun is, right?! Hold these guys off! We’ll head deeper into the ruins and wait!”
“What nonsense are you—”
In that instant.
“Priestess… of the Sun… orders… capture.”
A horribly cracked voice leaked from beneath a white mask.
“Cap…ture!”
Dozens of fanatics charged at Brenda in unison.