WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 510: Hour of the Dog and the Wolf - 3

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That day, dogs and wolves would wage a proxy war.

It was the day the will to kill humans clashed with the will to save them. The day a promise that had long failed to align would finally be fulfilled after years of waiting.

Even on such a historic day, morning began as it always did. The sun rose in the east, roosters crowed, and people dragged themselves out of bed, cursing the morning.

The only difference was that their curses were darker and lasted much longer than usual.

Ende had responded too slowly to the swift wolves. The trap-lined front had retreated again and again until it nearly reached the city.

But retreat was not always a bad thing. A retreat that narrowed the front and drew in the enemy might be shameful, but it was useful. Countless commanders had died in desperate situations because they could not accept that fact, yet people still heard the word retreat and pointed fingers.

"The damage was heavy. But thanks to that... the troops have gathered."

Another word for freedom was indulgence. Ende had no real system in place, so even when it conscripted beastkin, it simply handed them weapons and sent them off. The beastkin had formed ranks by clan, each carrying the equipment they were used to.

Some did not want to fight. Others wanted to run. But once the wolves attacked Ende, refusing to fight was no longer an option. It was better to defend the city than face a wolf pack out on the plains.

"If they hide behind the walls, they expect someone will protect them... That must be it."

Even those who valued freedom could not give up the security a wall offered. Gruel nodded at Sapien's words.

"How unfortunate. We'll have to betray that expectation."

"Gruel. Are you really going to choose that ridiculous plan? His plan isn't even a plan. He has no notable achievements, either. There's no reason to follow him."

Sapien earnestly advised Gruel, but Gruel only smiled.

"It seems fine to me. What's the problem?"

"What's the problem? How is 'I'll leave it to the discretion of the field commanders' a plan?"

Sapien recalled yesterday's absurd strategy meeting.

'Everyone. Unfortunately, we don't know much about their plans or their strength. We're not particularly stronger, faster, or even better prepared. Whatever clever trick we try here, we'll only keep losing our stake until we collapse.'

It was an unhelpful truth. Sapien had flared up. Sapien knew they were unprepared. But if they had to fight anyway, a commander's role was to come up with a better plan, not crush morale.

'So aside from the most important part, I'll leave it to the discretion of the field commanders. Until a certain event occurs, do your best to survive on your own. Just maintain your communication networks.'

Yet the Magician, who had somehow appointed himself strategist, offered no strategy at all. Irritated, Sapien replied.

'If there's no plan, why should we follow your command?'

'For one reason. I hold the only strength we can choose.'

'What's that?'

'When, where, and how Azzy will fight. Only I can decide that.'

Sapien could not answer. They had brought the King of Dogs here, and they clearly seemed much closer to her. If anyone was going to give orders, it should be someone familiar with her.

It was not as though the other side was weak enough for them to seize the King of Dogs by force.

'This battle will be about moving our pieces until the King of Dogs and the King of Wolves meet. Move as you see fit. I'll contact you often.'

That was not a plan. It was merely a notice.

To follow the Magician, they had to act as they pleased. If they ignored the Magician and acted as they pleased, they were still following. Sapien complained about that unpleasant trap, but Gruel liked it.

"Isn't it fine? Better to do as I please than come up with a rotten plan or follow one and complain about it."

"A rotten plan? Is your better plan just charging in? What if it goes wrong?"

"I'm the strongest in Ende. Whether it goes well or badly, that makes it my responsibility. If it'll be my responsibility anyway, I'd rather do as I please."

Trying to persuade Gruel would not produce a better solution. Unable to offer an alternative, Sapien decided to respect Gruel's judgment, setting aside the thought that this, too, meant following the Magician's intentions.

"I'll stay here. Leaving the base empty only increases the danger. There's nothing to gain from it."

"I'll move. If we sit here with our asses planted on the ground, we'll only get pieces torn off us before we're hunted down."

In the end, the two headed in the directions they believed were right.

Sapien watched the Beast Faction warriors moving alongside the orc mercenary corps and wondered whether more watchtowers should be built.

"Sapien, a group of dog beastkin has arrived outside the city. They say they fled from the wolves and want to fight with us."

Sapien frowned at the sudden report.

"A group of dog beastkin? At a time like this? Who are they?"

"I don't know. I've never seen them before. Could they be Beast Faction?"

"How would I know? If they're Beast Faction, Gruel would know."

Had a tribe chased by the wolves drifted all the way to Ende? Guessing would reveal nothing. As Sapien started walking, Sapien asked, "Did they have any other distinguishing features?"

"They all had short, glossy black fur. Their ears were sharply triangular, and their tails were very short."

It was a description focused on fur, ears, and tails, as expected of beastkin. If another beastkin described them that way, their traits must have been especially distinctive. As Sapien pictured them, a memory suddenly surfaced.

"They sound like the Baskerville Family."

"The Baskerville Family?"

"You wouldn't know them. They're the Empire's most famous watchdog family. They say those dog beastkin are born solely to hunt, and a groomer comes the moment they are born to cut their ears and tails short."

The beastkin who had delivered the report hurriedly covered their own ears and tail.

"Ugh, that sounds painful just imagining it! Why would they do that?"

"Drooping ears and tails can become weaknesses in a fight. The idea is to cut them off beforehand."

"What? Then do humans shave their heads in case someone grabs their hair while fighting?"

"I've heard there are humans who do that. Same idea... But that's an old story. These days, nobles probably just prefer short ears and tails."

"You mean they cut off their ears and tails so people will look at them? Why cut them, and why would anyone like that?"

"It's the Empire's taste. How would I know?"

"I really can't understand it!"

"Don't try to understand it. Accept it. That's the Empire. Still, I hear things have begun to change a little these days..."

Sapien briefly entertained the foolish fantasy that it would be reassuring if the Baskerville Family had truly come to help, then let out a bitter laugh.

'Of course not. Have I been driven so far that I'm relying on delusions?'

They were probably just a tribe of dog beastkin seeking Ende's aid. Sapien followed the subordinate's lead, lost in thought.

'Come to think of it, they said their blue eyes looked as though they held ghostfire. I'd like to see them, if I get another chance...'

Sapien did not know that chance would arrive in the worst possible form.

Gruel and the Beast Faction advanced slowly.

The Beast Faction warriors crossed the plains as calmly as if they were out for a stroll. After passing over a few hills, the familiar terrain vanished behind them, replaced by an unfamiliar plain. Then, one by one, wolves began gathering around them.

A Beast Faction warrior who had tensed up for a moment looked around.

"Hm. They're not attacking."

"They know we're not prey they can handle. They're probably watching us until a larger pack arrives."

"I know, but... even when wolves form an army, they fight the same way. Are wolves still wolves in the end?"

Wolves did not form dense formations. They always kept their distance from each other while driving their prey forward. They pressed without pause, draining every bit of spirit from their prey before tearing out its throat at the deadliest moment.

Attacking the city from all directions. Frightening the group until it split apart, then tearing apart the stragglers. That was certainly the wolves' way.

Gruel rejected the warrior's guess.

"It's different."

"What?"

"Wolves are no longer a pack. They're an army. Their prey is not a beast, but a city. Their scale has changed, yet they're using the same way of fighting? That's proof they aren't wolves."

...Yet deceiving the shepherds, exploiting their carelessness, and striking the watchtowers in one blow was impossible without understanding cities.

"Someone stands behind the wolves. I couldn't discuss it further because I didn't know who it was... but now I do."

Shadows rippled around the wolves, and people appeared.

Humans in tunics walked through the wolves like shepherds passing through their flock. The wolves that should have been tearing humans apart instead wagged their tails obediently and moved aside.

Sun-darkened humans stopped before Gruel. Among them, a bearded old man drove a staff into the ground and pointed at Gruel.

"Gruel! You wretch. Even you, who should have been the glory of beastkin, have decided to side with hypocrites in the end?"

"We've never even met. Who are you to point at me, ghosts of a fallen nation?"

Just as they knew Gruel, Gruel knew who they were.

Beast Faction was used with a meaning similar to barbarians. But they were called the Beast Faction not only because they were beastkin, but because they had once been a faction within a nation.

The Kingdom of Ten Thousand.

A barbaric land that lived alongside wild beasts, and a nation marked by Queen Agartha's sins.

The country where beasts and humans had lived together had split apart and scattered. Yet its remnants still remained. Ghosts of a fallen nation who had barely preserved their lineage in the southern jungles, where life was harsh even for humans, after Agartha died.

The descendants of the priests were even willing to join hands with wolves to expand their influence.

"I suspected it. You're the only ones who would do something this insane, but you're too weak to pull off anything yourselves. Then again, acting without even knowing your own circumstances is truly insane."

"Kuhahaha! Sometimes only madness can pull a life out of the mire!"

"Madness is still madness. Madness didn't pull you out of the mire. The mire spat you out."

"Whether it spat us out or pulled us out, we've been given a chance to end our miserable lives! Whether that ends the misery or life itself!"

Long ago, Queen Agartha had committed an act of madness. Considering that beastkin were the result of that madness, it was easy enough to guess the nature of what Agartha had done.

It had happened long before Gruel was born. Gruel did not know exactly what had occurred. But one thing was certain. Even if beastkin inherited Agartha's bloodline, they had never been treated well for it.

"You're the same. How long will you live as pork? Join us. We'll free you from being meat!"

The priests who upheld the legitimacy of the Kingdom of Ten Thousand saw beastkin as tools. The Beast Faction had so many beastkin because, even after the Kingdom of Ten Thousand fell, the beastkin who remained on its land could not endure discrimination and joined the wandering tribes.

Naturally, Gruel hated them.

Gruel had endured according to the grasslands' teaching not to carelessly make enemies. But once an enemy had been made, it was time to follow the teaching that said to crush them so thoroughly they could never seek revenge again.

"Do you think you can defeat the principalities and the Empire just because you have the King of Wolves behind you?"

Gruel slowly rubbed the ground with a foot. The movement was so small that it looked like nothing more than idle deliberation. The priests answered without any particular caution.

"Of course not. The strength of beasts has limits."

"Who stands behind you?"

"The Great Druid protects the forests and grasslands. The Great Witch whispers the most wicked knowledge. The Progenitor swears a bloody revenge. The Beast King reveals ferocity to humanity. All these wills shall meet and lead that arrogant civilization to ruin!"

The story was so much larger than expected that it sounded absurd. Gruel calmly continued asking questions, still smoothing the ground with one foot.

"Did all of them promise to lend you their strength? What are you relying on?"

"Foolish bastard. You're not even a horse, yet your view is so narrow. Where do you think they would use the immense strength they've gathered?"

"So they haven't promised you anything."

"Do you think a promise is trustworthy? We believe in the natural order more than promises!"

"True. Great figures like them wouldn't make something as grand as a promise to you. They turned their backs on you, and you're clinging to their trouser legs."

"...You should cling to whatever trouser leg you can, Gruel. No matter what you do... the ears and tail attached to you won't disappear."

Beastkin would always be beastkin. They could never become the same as humans.

Gruel inwardly agreed.

But what pig beastkin wanted was not the collapse of order. What pig beastkin truly wanted was to climb the ladder of order and rule from above. Gruel had come to Ende and realized that deeply.

Even Gruel, whether Gruel wanted it or not, was now acting as Ende's commander. To create an outcome that suited Gruel.

"Do I need to side with anyone? I only need to kill bastards like you, who insist on defining others by their ears and tails."

Gruel stopped smoothing the ground.

Heaven Qi Art was the power to seize the world. Earth Qi Art was the power to push and pull the earth. Since both controlled something outside the body, Heaven and Earth were often grouped together.

Yet there was a great difference between them.

Heaven moved the world around the self. Earth moved the self around the world. In truth, the two were the same, yet they felt different. The difference seemed small at first, but it had remained an enormous wall for a long time.

Gruel had stagnated at that stage for years. Comprehension was far too difficult for a pig beastkin who had lived such a simple life.

But struggling to escape it had given Gruel an opportunity.

Gruel had encountered a rhinoceros by chance and found inspiration in its overwhelming stomp. That led to realization, and Gruel reached the principle.

Ground leveling.

The ground Gruel had leveled lay under Gruel's control. Having leveled it in advance, Gruel could freely push and pull his body.

And while they had been talking, Gruel had leveled exactly enough ground to reach the priest.

The instant Gruel unleashed qi and released the principle, the world was pushed away, and the priest's body tore into hundreds of pieces that scattered through the air.

Footnotes:

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