Chapter 825

Chapter 825

Lua Gharne was well aware that her lifespan rivaled that of the fairy Shinar. Consequently, she had long ago ceased the practice of tracking the passing years.

Her recollection centered on a single truth: she was currently navigating her fourth incarnation. She categorized these lives into four distinct eras, defined by the core ambition she chased in each. Her most recent existence, the third, had been spent protecting a mesmerizing woman. While some might view such a duty as mundane, others would have sacrificed their very souls for the privilege. Because she never paused to calculate the weight of that burden, she gave her entire being to the protection of the previous monarch of Naurillia. It wasn’t a life of constant joy, but it possessed a unique allure.

Prior to that, there was an age where her entire purpose was the eradication of heretics. Even acknowledging her nature as a Frokk, Lua Gharne recognized herself as a statistical anomaly. It was highly irregular for a soul to cycle through four lifetimes. Regardless, she accepted that she could not retain every trivial detail of her past, so she anchored her mind only to the monumental occurrences.

One such anchor was the manifestation of the Salamander.

‘The heretics.’

She lacked the specific details of how the Salamander was summoned, but she recalled vividly that the cultists had slaughtered hundreds of their own faithful as a blood offering. Those images were now resurfacing, sharp and haunting.

‘It burns.’

The memory of a blistering sun that drained the very air of its moisture returned to her. The temperature had spiked violently, and every trace of humidity evaporated. Though the air was dry, the heat was so intense it felt as if it were twisting and scorching the skin. It was comparable to being trapped inside a glowing iron vat. Being a Frokk, she was hypersensitive to such atmospheric shifts.

“It is exceptionally oppressive today, is it not?”

Even the rank-and-file soldiers were remarking on it. They weren’t drenched in sweat because the air was too dry, but the sun felt predatory. Normally, the shade would offer a reprieve, but a searing gale was blowing in from an unknown source.

When Lua Gharne arrived at the private training grounds of the Order, she spotted a human she had previously seen in passing, standing there with a dazed expression. Positioned near him was a lieutenant from the Rem Guard, and beside them was Finn, the leader of the Pen–Hanil Rangers.

“What’s the word?”

Rem, having arrived before her, dug at his ear and threw the question to his subordinate. The lieutenant replied instantly.

“There is a literal ball of fire wandering around. What’s the play? Do we just crush everything in sight?”

It was the sort of blunt response typical of those serving under Rem.

“Wait, wasn’t the report that the Salamander was stirring further in?”

The man standing nearby chimed in, followed by Finn.

“We haven’t confirmed it visually yet, but the omens we’ve found are extremely high-risk.”

Rem didn’t seem interested in the technicalities of the beast. “Forget that—what did you say before?”

Garett provided the clarification. “Lord Enkrid requested I inform you that he is heading in first.”

Whether the news of the Salamander’s arrival truly registered with Rem was debatable; he was fixated solely on Enkrid’s head start.

“Well, that’s entertaining. I’m heading in too. Find your own way there!”

With that, Rem sprinted off.

“Do you even have a map in your head?” the lieutenant shouted, chasing after his commander.

“That’s what you’re for!”

“I don’t know the way either!”

“Then use your brain and figure it out as we go, unless you’re too stupid to follow a trail.”

Lua Gharne observed this exchange in silence. In a situation where most would succumb to panic, she instead sharpened her focus.

‘Has the Salamander truly awakened?’

Regardless of whether it was a false alarm or a reality, action was required. Rem was already gone, and Enkrid had vanished into the Pen–Hanil mountains. Coming to a swift conclusion, Lua Gharne spoke up. Her voice was resonant, carrying a weight that surpassed a typical Frokk’s croak.

“An infinite tide of fire spirits is about to manifest in the vicinity.”

Rem paused to look back. He caught the note of genuine alarm in her voice. Despite his boisterous exterior, Rem was far from slow-witted. He understood her silent question: if a deluge of fire monsters erupted, who would stay behind to contain them? Much like how a village collapses if every able-bodied man leaves the fields, they required a specialized force to hold the line here.

“Don’t sweat it. Do you think my men are just ornaments? They know how to swing a blade.”

Lua Gharne conceded the point. Rem then delivered a swift kick to the backside of one of his soldiers.

“Why are you still standing there? Move!”

He behaved like a man terrified of being the last one to arrive at a brawl.

“Is this actually the right move?” Garett whispered to himself.

Finn, however, remained composed. She had expected nothing less from this group.

‘The Mad Order of Knights earned their reputation for a reason,’ she reflected.

Lua Gharne’s mind drifted back to the eras when the great fire-breathing lizard was last rampant. The primary issue had always been the zealots. A splinter group from the Demon Sanctuary Church had formed a predatory pack, committing unspeakable atrocities. They torched granaries, razed settlements, and murdered civilians. No one was spared—from the smallest infant to the oldest elder—all were sacrificed to the flames.

‘Did they not claim they were constructing a cathedral of fire?’

They heralded the Salamander as a deity, claiming its fury was a divine visitation that required worship. Ironically, the majority of those fanatics were incinerated by the very flames their “god” produced.

“Oh, great one! Unleash thy—”

The prayer would be cut short as the earth itself turned to molten slag.

‘Yet, the cult persisted.’

Even now, a small, insane sect that deifies the Salamander remains. They are lunatics who find joy in the smell of burning flesh. The second issue was the sheer biological power of a demon-class entity like the Salamander.

‘It births living, breathing catastrophes.’

It could generate fire-based entities without end. Even the high-level forbidden magic known as “Walking Fire” was merely a pale imitation of the creature’s natural output. These two factors combined to create total devastation. That was the origin of the Salamander tragedy. And history was repeating itself.

‘The warning signs.’

First, the fire spirits and the beastmen.

‘Next, the fire giants.’

Following that, every conceivable horror born of flame would come pouring out.

“Who went where?”

As Lua Gharne was lost in thought, Ragna arrived. He was tying back his golden hair—likely a task performed by Anne—and asked the question with total nonchalance.

“To the interior,” Garett explained briefly. “Sir Enkrid first, then Sir Rem.”

Finn saw no reason to elaborate further. Ragna listened, offered a single correction, and departed.

“Rem isn’t a ‘Sir.’ You call him Rem the Bastard.”

He said it with absolute sincerity, as if it were the man’s legal title. Garett was momentarily speechless. He wondered what kind of madness he had stumbled into. He knew the Mad Order of Knights were eccentric, but the reality was harder to digest in person.

Observing Ragna, Finn instinctively moved to join him. She knew his temperament; Ragna was not the type of person you left to his own devices. If left unchecked, he might wander off and only reappear years later as some legendary figure in the South.

“I will be your scout,” Finn offered.

Ragna tilted his head. “Is that necessary?”

“Highly.”

As Finn followed, she threw a meaningful look back at Garett, silently telling him to continue his current duty. Garett didn’t need to ask what that was. It was obvious: he was the gatekeeper. He was to brief everyone else who arrived. Even if he had once been a battalion commander before retiring to be a minstrel, he would play the messenger. The role didn’t bruise his ego.

What truly bothered him was their lack of fear.

“Is this really the way to handle this?” he asked the air.

The Salamander wasn’t just another monster; it was a threat that eclipsed most demonic territories. It was a creature that had devoured legions of knights and turned master mages to ash. It was a walking natural disaster. There were historians who argued the continent’s knight population was so low today specifically because of the historical rampages of such beasts. Scholars posited that without these cataclysms, the world would have twice the military strength it currently possessed.

This wasn’t a skirmish; it was the arrival of an apocalypse.

‘Are these the people who are supposed to stop it?’

Garett’s thoughts were a tangled mess. His constant self-questioning was a physical manifestation of his internal dread. While this group was technically a knightly order on par with a kingdom’s elite, their lack of preparation felt suicidal.

“No, it isn’t right.”

The female Frokk, Lua Gharne, stepped toward him. Garett felt a wave of relief; finally, here was someone who seemed rational. He looked at her with eyes that pleaded for sanity.

“We need a strategy. We should send a rider to the capital immediately and summon the Red Cloak Order,” Garett urged.

His experience as a commander dictated his logic. To him, the Salamander was a falling star—a catastrophe that could not be avoided, only survived. People often called powerful knights “disasters” as a compliment, but this was a literal disaster. When a star dies and falls, the land is erased. The Salamander was that dying star.

“However, if this group cannot halt it, no one can.”

Lua Gharne was intimately acquainted with the inferno the Salamander’s children would create. She also knew the current capabilities of the Border Guard. Rem had spoken the truth. The guard was a formidable force, largely because a krona-beast like Kraiss would never skimp on the budget for steel and training.

“I… suppose that makes sense too,” Garett admitted, his mind still spinning.

Suddenly, Jaxon arrived.

“Who’s on the move? Give me the status.”

The training ground was located directly in front of their living quarters—the heart of the Mad Order of Knights’ territory. As members returned, they all passed through this central point.

“Deep in the range… the Salamander…”

Garett’s third briefing was his most efficient yet. Jaxon reached out and clapped him on the shoulder, treating him like a seasoned veteran.

“Excellent work.”

Jaxon was known for showing genuine respect to those who performed their duties well. If a man went out of his way to deliver a report, Jaxon made sure it was acknowledged.

“I—well, thank you, but…”

Before Garett could finish, Jaxon was gone. He didn’t need a map; his own primal instincts were screaming at him, directing him toward the heart of the mountain.

“Where is my betrothed?”

Next came a fairy. Garett provided an even more streamlined summary for Shinar.

“Possible Salamander awakening. Sir Enkrid has already moved in, followed by others from the Order.”

His old military habits were fully revived now. He felt less like a minstrel and more like the young officer he had once been, managing a chaotic field of battle.

“Then why are you still standing here?”

Shinar recognized Garett from their shared history in the same unit. She asked the question, but didn’t wait for the answer.

“Well, I—”

Garett stopped mid-sentence. The fairy had already vanished, her interest evaporating the moment she had the information. Her golden hair was a blur as she sprinted toward the peaks with incredible speed.

“…I was a battalion commander once,” Garett sighed to the empty air.

But the arrivals continued, and none of them treated him with any more reverence.

“Brother Messenger, I appreciate the update.”

A man who looked like a bear-beastman, an Apostle of the War God, moved past him.

“Lady Lua, you mentioned you had insight into this?”

Next was a knight named Rophod. Once he grasped the situation, he immediately looked for a way to be useful. While rushing into the fight was an option—

“The fires will spread. Monsters will descend to burn the outskirts,” Lua Gharne warned.

It was clear they couldn’t just focus on the center of the storm.

News of the crisis reached Kraiss and Abnaier almost instantly. Kraiss issued his commands without a moment’s doubt.

“Activate the standing force’s emergency protocols. Establish a defensive perimeter. Do not alert the civilian population in the city. A panicked evacuation will cause more casualties than the fire itself.”

Kraiss was unwavering. His confidence was rooted in the massive amounts of gold he had invested in his men—a deep-seated belief that his investment would finally yield its greatest return.