WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Order

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Chapter 33: Mountain City Barquntol (3)

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Among the laws said to have been passed by the Heavenly Council, if one had to name the most widely known law on earth, it was definitely the Anti-Revenge Law.

The law was simple.

No harm could be done to a believer who had left a church. Thanks to that law, people were able to switch churches freely.

But the Anti-Revenge Law said nothing about harming believers who stayed in a church.

Was it because it was justified for a god to harm its own believers?

That was surely not it.

It was simply that no god had ever done such a thing, so there had been no need to regulate it.

The only god who would kill a warrior who was the bravest, the most devoted, and had never turned their back on the church would be the God of the Iron Anvil.

Elbridge muttered.

"Goddess. Do the gods in the Heavenly Council know this?"

"No one would have known."

"Goddess. Is the God of the Iron Anvil an evil god?"

The goddess's voice was bitter.

"Elbridge. The opposite of an evil god is not a good god, and the standard for dividing evil gods from gods that are not evil gods is not goodness."

Then Marcus said.

"Mr. Rombel. Are you saying the God of the Iron Anvil killed the dwarf warriors?"

Even though the circumstances made it obvious, he still seemed unable to accept the conclusion he had reached.

"It's almost certain."

"Why would it kill the finest warriors...?"

"Because they had seen too much of the outside world. Because they had seen believers from other churches living together. And beyond that, because they had the qualities to become a focal point for change."

"But they were the church's core fighting force, weren't they?"

"They probably never expected a situation like this. Maybe they thought that even if one came up, they could somehow handle it...."

Rombel trailed off and let out a long sigh.

"When the mayor said that the distortion-type demonic beast had reached its late stage, I couldn't understand how something like that had happened."

Any veteran warrior knew how dangerous a late-stage distortion-type demonic beast was.

That was why they had made the rule that a distortion-type demonic beast had to be destroyed by any means as soon as it was found.

Fortunately, an early-stage distortion-type demonic beast was far weaker than the ordinary enhancement-type demonic beast. It only started becoming troublesome in the mid-stage.

Even if it was found a little late, once it had been discovered, it could still be eliminated before reaching the late stage.

If a distortion-type demonic beast reached the late stage without being eliminated, that meant there were no seasoned, experienced warriors around.

Marcus's voice turned uneasy.

"···Mr. Rombel. You said we were going to fight together with the dwarf warriors."

"I did."

"Now that there are no warriors left to help us, shouldn't we turn back? They said that beast was less dangerous than a demon, but still on par with one. If the three of us charge it, we'll die for sure."

But Rombel rejected that suggestion.

"No. If we back off here, that God of the Iron Anvil bastard will keep its influence."

"You want the three of us to fight however many demonic beasts are in there?"

Rombel did not answer. But sometimes silence was an answer.

Marcus pleaded.

"Mr. Rombel. You said your wish was to bring down the God of the Iron Anvil."

"Yeah."

"Let's be blunt. The easiest way to make that wish come true is to run away from here."

If they fought the demonic beast here, death was obvious.

Even if they miraculously survived and won, there would not be much to gain.

At most, they would plant a small seed of doubt about the God of the Iron Anvil in the dwarves and earn some compensation. That was all.

But if they ran, they could survive.

At the cost of Mountain City Barquntol's destruction, the God of the Iron Anvil would fall too.

How could the God of the Iron Anvil keep its seat after losing its believers? Rombel's dream would surely come true.

It was the sort of argument that seemed vicious at first glance.

Yet there was nothing wrong with what Marcus said.

What was more, even if Mountain City Barquntol were destroyed, no one would hold Elbridge's group responsible.

To dump the fate of a race and a city on three outsiders. Wasn't that far too irresponsible?

Elbridge, who had been listening in silence, answered in Rombel's place.

"That won't do."

"Why not? Dying here would just be a pointless death!"

Elbridge smiled faintly.

He saw in Marcus the look of apprentice paladins.

Apprentice paladins who opposed battle with cold reason, begged to retreat for the greater good, and in the end ran because they could not overcome their fear.

Every apprentice paladin went through a moment like that. Marcus, a half-paladin, was no exception.

"What happens to the dwarves if we get out of here?"

"They'll die. But if we abandon the city and run, they might survive."

"They didn't stay here because they didn't know that."

"But that's their choice! Besides, if we fight here because we want to save the dwarves, aren't we just helping the God of the Iron Anvil?"

"Marcus."

Marcus took a deep breath and forced down his agitation.

"···Go on."

"Leading those you hate to ruin, and helping those in need. Which comes first, in your opinion?"

"···."

"There isn't a single correct answer. But I have my own."

* * *

After a little time passed, the atmosphere settled down.

Marcus asked.

"So. What are you going to do?"

Even though he looked ready to run at any moment, Marcus had lingered awkwardly near Elbridge and Rombel.

It probably wasn't just because of the oracle from the God of Fox Rain. Marcus had acted the same way when he first met Elbridge too.

Rombel answered.

"First, we need to check the state of the demonic beasts."

"Check them? Br... Bronzim? Anyway, opening the gate to that place would be the end of us, wouldn't it?"

"No. There's a side door next to the iron gate that leads to Bronzimmar. Follow me."

Rombel took the lead, and Elbridge and Marcus followed behind him.

As they approached the massive iron gate, they felt a dull vibration, then a heavy thud, then a deeper boom.

Faint, ragged breathing drifted over as well.

"The demonic beasts are trying to break through the iron gate."

"Mr. Rombel. Is this really safe?"

"It won't give way anytime soon."

"Are you sure?"

"Probably."

"···."

Sure enough, there was a stairway along the cliff beside the huge iron gate.

Elbridge asked.

"Why is there a stairway here at all? It doesn't even go all the way to the end of the cliff."

"It was used when they built the iron gate connecting Barquntol and Bronzimmar. There's the same stairway on the other side too. When I was young, I used to go back and forth through this side door and play."

"···Was that fun?"

"Kids like high places."

The three of them climbed the stairs all the way to the top.

At the top was the rusted side door Rombel had mentioned, and above it was a small sliding panel that let them look across to the other side.

Unlike the red-rusted side door, the panel slid open smoothly.

That meant other dwarves had probably used this door to look across as well.

"Let's see···."

Rombel looked across first.

His reaction was plain.

"There are a few more than I expected."

"Move aside."

Elbridge and Marcus checked the other side together.

It was a city similar to Barquntol, but much smaller.

'So that's Bronzimmar···.'

The first thing they saw was several large demonic beasts slamming their bodies into the iron gate.

After that, they could also see other demonic beasts roaming the city. Just the ones visible right now were already more than two or three hundred. If they counted the ones they could not see yet, there was no telling how high that number would climb.

The sheer number drained the last of the confidence from Marcus's voice.

"Still, I think running is the right choice···."

Elbridge looked to the far side of Bronzimmar.

There was a single demonic beast there that looked different from the rest.

It had two arms and two legs like a human, and it stood upright on its legs.

Its skin was as white as snow, and it was thin and gaunt.

But it didn't look human. Its proportions were wrong.

Its legs were about the length of an ordinary human's. But its torso was longer than the height of an average person, and its two arms were more than three times as long as its torso.

Short legs and long arms.

Naturally, both arms dragged along the ground, and it looked as though it would whip them around like lashes.

And then the head.

On that snow-white face, with no eyes, no nose, and no ears, there was only a huge maw.

That maw was not there to take things in. It was there to spit them out.

It had just spat out a monster through that huge mouth.

"Sir Elbridge. Is that the distortion-type one?"

"Yes."

Elbridge and Marcus closed the sliding panel.

The three of them held a brief meeting.

Marcus said.

"There's no way we can win. Running is the right choice."

Rombel answered.

"Why? What's the problem?"

"Didn't you see how many demonic beasts there are? Forget that distortion-type thing. There's no way to force our way through."

Then Rombel gave a dry laugh.

"No. We don't need to force our way through. However many demonic beasts there are, Elbridge will take care of them. What matters is whether I can cut the distortion-type demonic beast's throat while Elbridge holds them off. In the confusion, I'll cross to the other side through that side door and take out the leader. That counts as success."

"What?"

Marcus could not understand what Rombel was saying.

If he were willing to give Rombel that much leeway, he could understand Rombel taking on the distortion-type demonic beast alone. Marcus had seen Elbridge hunt the crow demonic beast.

Even if the odds were slim, there was still a chance.

The problem was the Elbridge side of the plan.

If the gate connecting Barquntol and Bronzimmar were small, they might be able to buy time by dealing with the demonic beasts one at a time.

But the iron gate was wide enough for several carts to pass through at once. This wasn't a situation where one person could hold the line like a gatekeeper just by relying on personal skill.

"How is Sir Elbridge supposed to hold back those demonic beasts? That's ridiculous. No matter how skilled Sir Elbridge is, he can't do that."

Marcus said that and looked at Elbridge.

But Elbridge was just lost in thought.

'Do they really think a plan like that can work?'

Then Rombel said to Marcus.

"Marcus. You probably don't know what role the paladins of the Order of the Rusted Shield handled two hundred years ago."

"Of course I don't. I only heard the name Order of the Rusted Shield for the first time this spring."

"Unlike other churches, the Order of the Rusted Shield only handled two duties. The powers the Goddess of the Rusted Shield granted to paladins were specialized for those two duties as well."

"What were they?"

Rombel held up his left index finger.

"First. The moment news came that a demon or a hard-to-handle demonic beast had appeared, rush to the battlefield immediately. Then hold out until the other paladins finished preparing and arrived. That was the first duty."

"Alone?"

"Not necessarily. They sometimes went with other paladins or apprentice paladins from the same church."

Marcus imagined himself and Elbridge rushing through the iron gate.

No matter how hard he thought about it, he could not picture a good ending. Wouldn't they get flattened before reinforcements even arrived?

"···Then what was the second duty?"

Rombel held up one more finger.

"When a battle with poor odds broke out, accompany the paladins of another church."

"That at least makes sense."

"And when defeat was certain, keep the retreat route open for the other forces, then get out."

"···."

In short, there were two.

Charge into a battlefield where no one else was present. Remain on a battlefield after everyone else had left.

The wording sounded impressive, but that was...

"Mr. Rombel. Do demonic beasts or demons ever take prisoners?"

"I've never seen that."

"Then that's just suicide."

Marcus remembered what the Goddess of the Rusted Shield symbolized.

Devotion and sacrifice. Hidden honor. And No Retreat.

The most common symbols for a combat church were victory and glory.

But the Goddess of the Rusted Shield and the Order of the Rusted Shield stood for neither victory nor glory.

"You're not wrong. In fact, the survival rate of paladins in the Order of the Rusted Shield was uniquely low. But there were people who survived more than once."

Marcus glanced at Elbridge.

Rombel was saying something absurd, so the person involved should have snapped back at him.

But Elbridge's eyes were hazy, as if he were sleepy.

In the end, Marcus spoke in Elbridge's place.

"That may have been true back then. But that's... something only people from that era could do, isn't it?"

"Of course."

Rombel smiled faintly.

"That's why I'm leaving it to Elbridge."

Footnotes:

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