WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈
Chapter 60: Spiritual Tide (2)
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Marbas tapped the golden key with his finger.
“That castle drifts between the present world and the Otherworld. That is why it has remained undiscovered for so long.”
“As a summoner, you can’t help but be interested.”
“Wouldn’t it be a lie for someone who sees and listens to distant places to claim otherwise?”
Marbas raised his burn-scarred hand to his ear.
“Ever since I became a summoner, I have felt the castle’s presence. Sometimes strongly, sometimes faintly. It feels as though it is constantly sending me letters.”
“Then have you never considered joining the Emperor?”
The person who desired the Wandering Castle most was also the one with abundant power and wealth. Statistically speaking, there could be no better place to search than at the Emperor’s side.
“Those who went to the Emperor with that thought ended up half slaves. Besides, I have no desire to leave my rough but loyal Black Hand friends.”
“Once you get close to them, they really are dependable, good friends.”
Both men spoke of the Dark Elves with warm looks in their eyes.
“Do you really think we can find the Wandering Castle?”
“I cannot be certain, but I am sure that now is the right time. Let us speak of something else for a moment.”
Perhaps because he had finally found someone with whom he could properly discuss his interests, Marbas looked pleased.
“Along shallow coasts, the water repeatedly rolls far in and recedes. This is called the tide, and the reason for it is, um...”
Marbas looked as though he was considering how to explain it in a way a knight could understand.
“It is because of the influence the sun and moon have on each other.”
Eugene left out details such as tidal force and gave a simple answer. Even so, Marbas looked greatly surprised.
“Are you versed in astronomy? Even most mages do not know this.”
“I read it in a book.”
Books were the most convenient excuse when sharing knowledge others did not possess.
“That makes this easier. Like the tides, the present world and the Otherworld repeatedly draw closer and farther apart. Summoners call the period when they draw closer a Spiritual Tide.”
“Even from that rough explanation, it sounds terribly bad for the world.”
Ordinary farmers needed nothing more than warm sunlight. Unknowable powers seeping into the world could only be a disaster.
“You are right. During a Spiritual Tide, incidents beyond human comprehension become more frequent. Great mages are often born during such times as well.”
“From the way you are telling this, I suppose now is one of those times?”
Marbas nodded.
“The Wandering Castle drifts between the present world and the Otherworld. Then would not a Spiritual Tide be the best time to find it?”
Now Eugene understood why the Emperor had become so desperate. If he missed this chance, he might not get another during his reign.
“Then do you not desire this key even more?”
“Great mysteries are not things one can possess simply because one desires them. Fate will choose its owner. I have already learned the price of coveting what is beyond my means.”
“This is only hypothetical, but I would appreciate your help when the time comes.”
“That is what I had hoped for. As a seeker, could there be any greater honor? That was why I wished to speak with you today.”
Marbas picked up the key and placed it in Eugene’s hand.
“Only the gods know what it means that this key has come into your hands. I pray that peace awaits you at the end of this path.”
That ended their conversation.
After spending a comfortable night, the Dark Elves finished collecting payment and prepared to leave the next day.
“You have already accomplished great deeds and been granted a fief.”
Helga sounded impressed after learning Eugene’s destination.
It had not been long since he had made a name for himself as a free knight, yet he had already risen to become a lord. Northfork was also a fine town she had heard of before.
“What do you plan to do?”
“We intend to return to the tribe at once. Thanks to you, Sir Knight, our work was made easier.”
The Black Hand Mercenary Company did not like staying in one place for long. Work became difficult to find, and they were often caught up in old grudges and debts.
Eugene gave Helga a firm handshake before they parted ways.
* * *
The farther north they traveled, the wider the river became. Northfork was not far away now.
“Come to think of it, doesn’t that make us the lord’s direct subordinates?”
“Once we get a little older, maybe we should ask him to put us in the fief guard.”
Nothing was better than having a final refuge from the unstable life of a mercenary.
“Get your head straight, you fool.”
“A mercenary should know their place.”
More people scolded such sweet dreams than encouraged them.
Still, resting in their employer’s fief was the greatest luxury mercenaries could enjoy. Since it was a trading town, there should be plenty to eat and plenty to do. Filled with anticipation, they went to sleep.
Then they were forcibly awakened before dawn.
Pheeeet!
Homi’s sharp whistle struck everyone’s eardrums. Her senses, keener than a hunting dog’s, had picked up something.
“Grab your weapons and shields!”
The mercenaries sprang up, armed themselves, and lit the torches they had prepared beforehand.
They all frowned as they tried to shake off sleep, but not one of them doubted Homi’s senses or judgment.
“Groups One and Three, hold the front while Groups Two and Four put on their armor. Switch once you are fully armored!”
Haind gave detailed orders as a mercenary helped him put on his breastplate.
Thanks to that, Eugene could focus on watching beyond the darkness. Something seemed to be approaching, but he sensed no killing intent or military discipline.
“I am Eugene Mayer, a knight traveling to a fief granted to me by Count Morad. Identify yourselves!”
With torches burning throughout the camp, they could gradually make out the figures of the approaching enemies. They clearly had human shapes, not the forms of monsters.
“Come any closer and we will fire!”
Despite Eugene’s warning, the intruders did not stop. The mercenaries held their fingers over their crossbow triggers.
“They are carrying weapons!”
“Open fire!”
Eugene gave the order when he saw the outlines of the weapons in their hands.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Several bolts flew out and struck home, yet almost none of the enemies fell. Not even a small scream rang out.
“What the hell?”
“I could feel them sinking into flesh.”
The confused mercenaries learned why as their enemies came closer to the torchlight.
The light revealed corpses twisted by hatred for the living. Shouts erupted from every direction at their horrific appearance.
“Wights!”
They were Wights, the lowest-tier undead monsters.
“The war has not even been going on that long. How are there already undead?”
Death was not the same in this world. Those who were killed by another’s hand, rather than dying naturally or from illness, left powerful resentment in the earth.
When enough of that resentment gathered and matured, it formed undead energy and raised the dead. Yet less than half a year had passed since the war began. It was far too soon.
“Aim for their heads! Hitting anywhere else is useless!”
“Do not risk even a scratch! It is fine if you cannot kill them, just avoid their attacks as much as possible!”
Some Wights approached with little more than bone remaining, their bodies rattling. Bolts caught in their eye sockets and ribs shook loose one by one.
Trudge. Trudge.
Rattle. Clatter.
By the time the staggering creatures reached the formation, the mercenaries felt a refreshingly cool wind blow over their heads. Even knowing it would not harm them, the wind pressure still gave them chills every time.
Crack!
Crunch!
Smash!
Three Wights collapsed with their heads twisted and neck bones snapped, the impact ringing out loudly.
“Hold the defensive line as you are now.”
“Leave it to us!”
Eugene gave orders from behind the mercenaries, his long-handled flail in hand. It was hard to imagine a knight standing behind them, rather than in front, could feel so reassuring.
Wights did not require magical power to harm them like evil spirits, nor did they possess bodies as tough as Ghouls.
Considering their sluggish movements and nearly nonexistent intelligence, they were far weaker than Orcs or Gnolls of similar size.
Yet numbers were strength. They also spread disease through corpse poison and rusty weapons. If even a scratch was left untreated, bad luck could cost someone an arm or leg.
“Large shields to the front! Do not attack aggressively.”
The shield bearers focused on holding the defensive line as they pushed the Wights back.
Behind them, mercenaries wielding blunt weapons with both hands smashed the Wights’ heads. Even tools used to set up camp proved highly useful.
Rather than actively slaughtering enemies, Eugene fought by breaking through bottlenecks where the Wights began to gather.
Now that he was a commander, he had to distinguish between charging in to slaughter a hundred enemies alone and preserving his allies’ formation.
The long-handled flail was the finest mounted weapon for commanding from the rear while still launching fierce attacks.
“Back when we were at The Knight’s House, all the rumors I heard were about swords and spears.”
Haind finally saw what kind of knight he was serving and stared in stunned disbelief.
Crack!
Snap!
Eugene in battle looked like a black storm taking the form of a knight.
‘He must have gone very easy on me when we sparred at The Knight’s House.’
Haind admired the might of the knight he served, though he also felt a little disappointed.
The Aether-forged sword he had expected to see in action had not been used. It was a sword that every person training with a blade would want to wield, even at the cost of their life.
Yet it remained at Eugene’s waist, with no intention of leaving its sheath.
“O hungry lives of the wild. I promise you food. For more seeds and greater prosperity, bind the feet of our enemies!”
When Varda finished her spell, the Wights howling before the mercenaries staggered all at once.
Weeds and vines burst from beneath their feet, wrapping around their ankles and legs.
“W-What is this?”
“Do not panic, hold your positions! Our mage has bound them!”
The mercenaries calmed down at Haind’s shout.
The Wights’ intelligence was so low that they seemed to recognize even the brush binding their legs as enemies.
Screeeech!
Creak!
They bent over to attack the brush clinging to their bodies, leaving the mercenaries before them.
“Now!”
Everyone brought down their weapons and shields with all their might. Wights with shattered skulls fell everywhere.
“Amazing, Mage!”
The mercenaries praised Varda.
Magic itself was something ordinary mercenaries rarely saw, much less magic that helped so directly in battle. They felt as though they had received the gods’ blessing.
Several Wights that had fallen to the ground could not even rise, wrapped in newly grown vines.
A mercenary carrying tent-building hammers in both hands approached to finish one off.
“Donovan! Fall back!”
At the mercenary captain’s shout, the mercenary immediately jumped back.
Whoosh!
A huge hand swept through the spot where the mercenary had stood a moment before. A muscular creature had leaped from the nearby brush and swung its arm.
“A Ghoul too...”
The mercenary captain groaned as he recognized the newly appeared enemy.
Ghouls were creatures that gave birth to themselves from tangled piles of corpses, evil beings that were half undead and half living.
They stood much taller than most mercenaries, and their fused fingers and nails resembled ten daggers.
Their roar was what truly made them troublesome.
Grrrrrrrr!
A Ghoul’s voice carried a weak curse. It was not enough to physically harm someone, but it could stir fierce fear.
Because it originated from the supernatural, even a battle-hardened knight could feel fear without some means of magical resistance.
“Ugh...”
The veteran mercenaries’ shields began to shake and slowly lower.
“Get a grip! Keep your shields up!”
Haind encouraged them as he swung his weapon, though goosebumps covered his arms and neck as well.
“...!”
At that moment, the white fur on Homi, who had been smashing Wights with a military hammer, stood on end. Her cute eyes turned fierce, and her pupils narrowed into vertical slits.
The heat of battle and her companions’ peril awakened something buried deep within Homi’s instincts. She threw back her head.
“Awooooooo!”
Unlike the Ghoul’s sinister roar, a clear, dignified howl echoed across the world.
The mercenaries felt the fear constricting their hearts wash away completely.
Raaaargh!
The enraged Ghoul roared again, but it had no effect now.
It was as though Homi’s cry had coated the mercenaries’ hearts. No sinister energy could shake them any longer.
“I can feel the Squire’s breath flowing through my heart.”
One mercenary said this in a trembling voice.
Footnotes:
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