ocean-life Chapter 248: The Civil War in the Principality (13)
Chapter 248: The Civil War in the Principality (13)
Chapter 248: The Civil War in the Principality (13)
“Huff... huff...!”
The sound of frozen twigs snapping underfoot was drowned out by the ragged breathing that echoed through the forest.
Fran’s face was riddled with exhaustion, but his legs didn’t stop moving, perhaps due to his sheer will to live. Contrary to Karyl’s expectation that it would take him two days, Fran found himself at the middle reaches of the Binfredo River just one day after fleeing from Moon Aether.
Splash...!
Fran plunged his head into the water as soon as he spotted the river, gulping down mouthfuls before choking and spitting it out.
“Rrrrroooooaaarrr!!!”
“Kreeeaaaahhh!!!“
Suddenly, the earth-shaking roar and the powerful gusts of wind caused by the flapping of wings shook the trees.
“...!!”
Fran hastily pulled his head out of the water and scrambled to hide behind a nearby boulder by the riverbank.
“The 1st Wyvern Squadron is already here...”
Peeking out, he saw dozens of beasts with crimson scales soaring in the sky above. They were distinctly larger than the usual wyverns. While not quite the size of a fully-grown dragon, their wings stretched several dozen meters wide.
“Kyaaah...!”
The wyverns bared their fangs as they flew, radiating ferocity, ready to tear into anything. The 1st Wyvern Squadron was unlike any other. These were not wyverns tamed with magitech collars after being captured from the wild. Rather, they had been artificially bred by humans, with their bloodline enhanced by Riseria, the Flame Dragon.
It seemed they had inherited the ferocity of a Red Dragon.
“I need to reach them before the battle begins. If I end up fighting those things, I’m done for!”
Fran pounded his trembling legs with his fists, trying to get them to cooperate. But after running nonstop for an entire day, they simply refused to move.
“Shit!”
Although he had managed to quench his thirst, Fran was still furious at the situation he found himself in.
How did I end up like this...?!
He angrily punched the water, splashing it everywhere.
“...!!”
But his outburst was short-lived. Hearing the faint rustle of movement behind him, he froze, eyes widening like a startled rabbit as he crouched back down behind the rock.
“Who’s there?!”
“Hold it right there! Hands up!”
He scanned his surroundings, spotting soldiers cautiously approaching him with spears pointed in his direction.
“...!”
Seeing the soldiers’ armor, Fran sighed in relief and stood up, attempting to maintain a commanding presence. However, his weary legs quickly buckled, nearly sending him back on the ground.
Despite the undignified display, Fran tried to play it off, perching himself on the rock as if nothing was amiss.
“Where’s Anthem?”
“...?”
The soldiers were taken aback by his abrupt, informal tone.
“Do you know who you’re pointing those spears at, you fools?!”
Crack!
Fran snatched one of the spears aimed at him, snapping it in half with a sharp motion. He then shouted irritably, “Do you not know who I am? Look closely! I am Fran Lurein.”
The man who had groveled for his life before Karyl was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he exuded the dignity of a duke as if the earlier humiliation had never happened. Of course, given his sooty face and overall battered appearance, he didn’t seem as imposing as he intended.
“Sir... Yes, sir!”
The soldier at the front, who had just lost his spear, finally recognized Fran’s face and hurriedly saluted.
“The situation is urgent. Take me to Anthem right away.”
***
“L-Lord?!”
Anthem Howard, who had been in his tent, abruptly stood up, pushing aside the table in front of him at the unexpected arrival.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Anthem?!” Fran shouted the moment he laid eyes on him, his voice simmering with fury.
Anthem, however, responded with a somewhat awkward expression, “Please... have a seat first.”
At that, Fran remained quiet. After all, what could he say while being helplessly carried on a soldier’s back? Even though the situation was urgent, his pitiful state would undermine anything he said.
***
“Fran has left the command tent. Judging by his direction, he’s heading toward the enemy camp where the 1st Wyvern Squadron is stationed,” a voice whispered from the darkness.
The shadowy figure emerged into sight, its form solidifying into Hashir, draped in a mantle.
“Seeing him berate Anthem was like watching a demon vent its anger. Refusing to acknowledge his own mistakes and taking it out on others... It seems he’s not destined for greatness,” Hashir remarked.
“Is he truly the greatest naval commander of the principality? How could someone so blind to the situation be so highly regarded? Perhaps his senses dulled the moment he stepped onto land,” said Patun of the Red Moon tribe, crouching like a beast on all fours beside Hashir.
“It just shows how much faith he places in the Wooden Cloud,” Karyl murmured softly.
“Or maybe the drugs have rotten his brain,” Lilliana chimed in.
Everyone turned to look at her.
“You were right, my lord,” she continued, holding up a small pill in her hand, identical to the ones Fran had been taking regularly.
“Is it poison?” Hashir asked.
“Something like that,” Lilliana replied. “It’s a drug called Obscura Herb, made from horsetail leaves. It’s not lethal, unlike what was used on the emperor, but it’s still dangerous.”
Karyl tilted his head slightly. “Is that so? And what does it do?”
“The primary effect of Obscura Herb is making the heart race. It’s incredibly addictive, and just one pill can make it nearly impossible to quit,” Lilliana explained. “Over time, the user becomes dependent on it, and without the drug, even breathing becomes difficult. The withdrawal symptoms are so severe that it feels worse than death.”
Karyl’s eyes gleamed with interest.
“As time goes on, the lack of oxygen in the body can cause brain tissue to die, leading to hallucinations or even madness before that,” Lilliana added.
“So the brain literally rots? Wouldn’t that mean death?" Kuntai grimaced as he asked, clearly disturbed by the idea.
Lilliana offered a faint, bitter smile. “It’s a bit different. It’s not just a simple poison. Even if the brain dies, the body continues to function normally. It’s as if the person is alive but not truly living. In Fran’s current state of addiction... he’ll likely end up as a vegetable for the rest of his life.”
“I see,” Karyl muttered.
Even Anthem’s confusion at Fran’s behavior suggested that his trust wasn’t built naturally.
It made sense now. Fran was part of the Wooden Cloud, and Karyl couldn’t help but think of one word that was inseparable from that organization: fanaticism.
The Wooden Cloud is the predecessor of the Blue Roar, a religious group known for creating countless fanatics. Perhaps they used similar drugs for that.
Moreover, Karyl had confirmed in Antihum that the enemy was cultivating plants from the Demon Realm in dungeons.
“Our Jannabi tribe wouldn’t even consider using such a poisonous herb. I wonder where they managed to obtain it...” Lilliana mused out loud.
Karyl nodded at her words.
This might just be the trial phase. If they start making even stronger drugs using plants from the Demon Realm and poisonous herbs from the continent...
Fran’s current behavior was likely just the tip of the iceberg of what the Wooden Cloud planned to unleash in the future.
“We need to nip this in the bud,” Karyl muttered.
“The preparations are complete,” Hashir reported, prompting Karyl to turn around.
“Finally, it’s time to fight,” Karyl declared, his voice filled with anticipation.
“I’m not exactly thrilled to be wearing the armor of the principality, but orders are orders,” one of the chiefs grumbled, tugging at the sleeve of the armor he was wearing, clearly displeased with it.
Thud—
At that moment, a man barged through the door. His presence immediately cast a chill over the atmosphere.
He was from the Black-Eyed tribe.
Though Karyl didn’t know him personally, there was something about those identical eyes that made him feel a strange sense of connection.
The man tossed something at Karyl’s feet—it was the severed head of the enemy artillery commander, the same one who had attempted to fire upon them when they breached the gate.
Kuntai of the Tiger Shield tribe clicked his tongue in distaste.
“I owe you my life. Thanks for saving me.”
The man showed no reaction to Kuntai's words, simply picking up a piece of armor from the table before turning to leave, as if to indicate that he hadn’t yet earned the right to converse directly with Karyl.
The only person he had acknowledged before exiting was Lilliana, the one who had killed Giltian.
“He’s a tough one,” Kuntai muttered, slightly embarrassed by the lack of response as he watched the man leave.
A faint smile tugged at Karyl’s lips.
“Let’s move quickly. Tonight, we have a duty to deliver one final victory to Fran. And whether you like it or not, you will wear that armor.”
With a click, Karyl donned his helmet. Having his vision restricted was a strange sensation, one he hadn’t experienced since wearing his mask in the Sun Hall of the imperial capital, long ago. Nevertheless, he quickly adjusted to it, scanning the room with a sense of resolve.
“We will give him victory, and in exchange, we will take his life. This armor we’re wearing is merely the mourning attire.”
With that, Karyl drew his sword, and in that instant, a sharp, menacing light flashed in the darkness, like a fierce roar piercing through the night.