Chapter 223

Chapter 223
## Chapter 223

### Calcos Tribal Federation (1)

“Well, your recovery is progressing excellently. Given your physical baseline, I anticipated a swift healing process, but your body is mending even quicker than my calculations suggested. Are you feeling any pain or odd sensations?”

“No, none at all. I actually feel perfectly fine. To be honest, I feel like I’ve gained a bit of extra strength. Haha!”

Deep within the grand walls of the royal medical wing situated on the perimeter of the Azerion imperial grounds, the chief physician—a silver-haired gentleman clad in a spotless medical gown—nodded slowly while studying a slate-like magical artifact that shifted with various vital statistics.

“That is not merely a trick of your mind. We utilized an array of incredibly scarce medicinal components during your treatment, including the neutralizing essence of a Manticore and extracts from the Inphisilen blossom. It is only logical that you feel revitalized.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Splendid! In that case, when am I free to leave?”

“Hrm—it would be wisest to monitor the state of both your vision and your arm for a handful of additional days. While they appear balanced at the moment, there remains a risk of latent complications manifesting later on.”

The chief physician offered his assessment with a completely neutral demeanor, posed a few standard medical queries, and then exited the chamber after offering a polite, brief nod.

“We shall conclude your examination for today. Medical attendants are stationed just beyond the door, so do not hesitate to signal them if you require assistance. I shall take my leave.”

Once the elderly doctor had departed, Hesperon scanned the opulent details of the private recovery room before lowering his focus to his own right arm.

“This level of medical care feels a bit extravagant… though I suppose the circumstances warrant it.”

From his fingertips all the way up to his shoulder, his limb was completely encased in heavy linen wraps, every inch of the fabric meticulously detailed with glowing mystic symbols. This severe condition was the heavy toll he had incurred by pushing the limits of the unique shadowy magical instruments belonging to Hans.

Though he had successfully purged the corrupting blight from his flesh, the tissue of his right arm had warped so violently that surgical removal had initially seemed like the only viable path forward. The medical staff had explicitly cautioned him that the malevolent energy could reignite and migrate through his system if every trace was not thoroughly excised.

‘Still, I doubt it will take such a dark turn.’

Just two days prior—exactly three days after he had first opened his eyes following the deadly ambush—a glowing notification from the world interface had manifested in his vision.

《Through relentless discipline and trial, the host achieves sudden insight. You have unlocked the passive ability: “Curse Resistance”.》

By confronting and enduring an overwhelming influx of corrupting malice, his constitution had adapted to withstand such forces. Naturally, a single passive ability was not a flawless shield, but when combined with the dampening arrays woven into his medical bindings, he felt confident that the situation was entirely stable.

‘It is merely a minor grievance that I am currently blind in my right eye. They noted that a standard ocular replacement wouldn’t take… I wonder if Hans might possess a specialized method to fix this…’

Letting out a soft breath, he brushed his fingers against the dark velvet patch detailed with golden thread that now masked his right eye.

‘…What an absolute disaster.’

He had been utterly bewildered when he initially regained consciousness and pieced together the sequence of events, and the sheer absurdity of the reality had not faded in the slightest.

‘Harris and Harley have completely thrown off their restraints, but Hans remains the trickiest variable. Granted, I grasp the logic behind his machinations, yet still…’

By riding the wave of chaos generated by the Oath of Heaven’s Defiance, he could easily gather the rewards, disrupt the enemy’s long-term objectives, and maximize his personal collection of spiritual Providence. Furthermore, it provided a perfect justification for Harley and the champion’s companions to push their operations deep into the southern territories. It was undeniably a masterstroke of strategy—perfectly analytical, efficient, and direct.

Yet, the execution left much to be desired…

“Ah, whatever! It will all sort itself out in the end.”

Abandoning the mental exhaustion, he sank deeply back into the plush, comfortable mattress. Stuck inside these walls, there was absolutely nothing he could accomplish at the moment anyway.

‘Every single one of them possesses such an unyielding disposition… The only thing left for me to do is…’

His eyes drifted toward the collection of ancient, leather-bound texts resting on the wooden stand beside his mattress.

These were literary offerings meant to stave off the crushing boredom of his mandatory confinement. They were highly guarded grimoires sourced directly from the grand arcane sanctuary of the royal citadel—assets that were strictly forbidden to anyone outside the circle of high-ranking sorcerers, let alone permitted to leave the premises.

Under normal circumstances, their presence here would be a grave violation… But the individual responsible for delivering them was none other than—

*Knock, knock—*

“Pardon the intrusion, Hesperon. Princess Riley Carte Azerion requests entrance to see you.”

It was Riley, who made it a strict point to check on his well-being at least once every single day, regardless of how demanding her royal obligations became. Entering the chamber unaccompanied, she secured the latch behind her and stepped forward, setting down a fresh bundle of reading material onto the stand with a warm expression.

“Heron, how are you faring this afternoon? The attendants inform me that your vitals are improving rapidly.”

“I am in perfect health! Frankly, I could walk out those doors this very second, but the staff is simply being overly protective.”

“Do not rush the process; heed the chief physician’s guidance. His skills are unmatched across the entire realm.”

“Well, it is merely a matter of a few days, so I can endure it.”

He gave a casual shrug, then lifted one of the heavy texts he had already finished reading, gesturing with it toward her.

“Though, Riley, are you entirely certain it is wise to transport these assets here? I am incredibly grateful, but won’t the royal sorcerers be furious? This could spark unnecessary friction for you.”

The spellcasters of the realm, particularly those entrenched in the imperial citadel, were notorious for their immense pride and unyielding temperaments. It was highly counterproductive for her to provoke their ire, especially during a critical juncture where she was anchoring her authority as the rightful successor to the throne.

“You need not lose sleep over that matter. Most certainly not under the current climate. The Grand Arcanist himself granted explicit authorization for their removal.”

Beneath the soft warmth of her expression lay a cold, uncompromising reality. A fraction of the magic users who had participated in the treasonous plot belonged directly to the inner circle of the imperial sanctuary. Consequently, a web of conspirators still lingered within the institution.

An aggressive purge was actively unfolding, and a wave of political executions was ripping through the sanctuary’s ranks… In the midst of such terror, who would dare challenge the princess for borrowing a handful of texts to assist the savior of her life? Furthermore, these were standard instructional volumes accessible to any mid-tier practitioner, not forbidden relics of dark sorcery.

‘…I suppose she is far too clever to make an oversight, so she undoubtedly has the situation fully managed.’

Hesperon gave an understanding nod, placing his complete confidence in her strategy. In the end, it was out of his hands.

“Ah, that reminds me! Cecily wished for me to pass along her warmest wishes. She harbored every intention of coming to express her gratitude face-to-face, but she is currently buried in administrative duties and cannot break away from her post. She sends her deepest regrets.”

Riley drew her lips into a slight pout, delivering the update with a tinge of disappointment. To the outside world, she was known as the unyielding Iron-Blooded Princess, whispered about with terror due to her absolute ruthlessness, but within the privacy of this room, she resembled any typical young woman her age.

‘…I have a fairly accurate suspicion as to why her schedule is so suffocating.’

He averted his gaze slightly, a pang of self-reproach hitting him. He was partially to blame… or rather, he was the primary catalyst for the overwhelming chaos currently landlocked on Isea’s shoulders.

Hans, Heinrich, and Harley.

Isea was merely one of the unfortunate figures swept up in the wake of their destructive wake. Along with the remaining vanguard of the champion’s retinue, who had just set foot upon the borders of the…

—

“Sigh… To think our path would lead us to a place like this.”

Isea let out a heavy breath, her eyes sweeping across the endless, sun-baked barrens stretching out to the horizon. Her original itinerary involved spending several days resting within the capital walls following the grand conclave, but those aspirations had been utterly shattered by the recent catastrophe.

Initially, she had dismissed Harley’s chaotic behavior as a localized disruption… but Heinrich’s sudden prophetic vision had elevated the matter into a crisis of global proportions, leaving her with no choice but to accompany the group south.

‘The supreme leader of the southern clans is systematically bending the minds of the regional chieftains to his will, mobilizing them for an all-out assault against the civilized realms…?’

She had harbored deep reservations ever since the abrupt severance of geopolitical ties. The southern envoy had displayed absolutely no indicators of hostility throughout the duration of the conclave, and the diplomatic treaties had concluded on an optimistic note… To discover that such a terrifying reality was developing behind the scenes was almost unbelievable.

‘The gravity of this situation cannot be overstated. It implies the underlying rot is far deeper than our worst estimates.’

While she had maintained an uneasy eye on the southern border, she had never truly anticipated they would launch an overt invasion under the current global conditions. Within their clan-based governance, initiating a war required the unanimous endorsement of every major tribal leader. Forcing an invasion without that collective mandate should have been impossible, particularly now.

‘Yet, the puzzle pieces align perfectly if the undying sovereign is manipulating the board from the shadows. To orchestrate a diversion utilizing legions of walking corpses and towering behemoths while quietly preparing a southern front for war…’

It was a masterfully calculated deception. In a literal sense, he had not violated the non-aggression pact forged with the Holy Maiden. After all, the entity formally issuing the declaration of war was the Calcos Tribal Federation, not the undying sovereign himself.

‘Hold on, if the western territories are also spiraling into administrative breakdown… could the undying sovereign be pulling the strings of corruption there as well?’

She found herself questioning the integrity of every major event now. Even the coordinated strike against Riley’s life felt like a single cog in a far vaster machinery of war.

‘…Isn’t that precisely the reality we are facing?’

Ultimately, that grim realization was what had propelled the champion’s circle to make a forced march toward the southern wastes. Leaving the administrative aftermath of the capital to local authorities, they focused entirely on their core directive: eliminating the architect of this conspiracy before the embers of war could catch wind.

‘A mere group of six…’

She shifted her gaze across the figures standing beside her.

“Even if the grand coalition of nations begins immediate mobilization, their armies will arrive far too late. We must sever this threat at the root before the true devastation begins…”

“Do not let fear cloud your heart. The Almighty Creator shall illuminate our path. Therefore, our immediate course…”

The Holy Maiden Liesta and the Blessed Heinrich were deep in hushed, intense deliberation over their tactical options.

“The shadow of the undying sovereign looms over these sands…”

Geos Calkin, the master of the lance, fixed his gaze toward the shimmering horizon with an intensity that burned like hot coals.

“This marks my absolute first venture into such an arid wasteland. The climate is thoroughly repulsive… However, my affinity with the spirits of flame is significantly amplified in this heat, meaning my martial output will not suffer.”

Lydia Granwood, the noble scion of the ancient woodland folk, inhaled the dry air deeply, carefully analyzing the alien terrain around them.

“Oh—? So this is what the southern lands look like.”

Harley, the monolithic tribal vanguard, stared out at the barren sands with wide, curious eyes, thoroughly enthralled by the change of scenery.

‘Each individual here possesses immense combat prowess… yet our adversaries are a legendary undying sovereign and a tribal monarch wielding the unchecked military might of an entire alliance of clans.’

She suppressed a weary sigh.

Despite the monumental scale of the task, this exact scenario was precisely why they existed as the specialized vanguard tasked with neutralizing the undying sovereign. They had spent so much consecutive time repelling the endless incursions of the deathless legions that they had momentarily lost sight of their specialized foundational purpose…

Infiltrating deep behind hostile perimeters, executing key political and military targets, and dismantling critical infrastructure and defensive installations. The historical crusade that had successfully broken the undying sovereign’s power in the past had utilized these exact asymmetric tactics, meaning complaints were entirely pointless.

“Bwahahaha! My initial plan was to cross this desert on foot, but this method saves an immense amount of energy! Arcane travel truly is a marvelous tool! Hahaha!”

While she was silently weighing the immense burdens of their upcoming infiltration, the tribal warrior—utterly detached from her tactical anxieties—let out a boisterous roar of amusement.

“Honestly, Harley. This is hardly the moment for boisterous laughter. We have successfully crossed into southern territory, but the true peril begins this very instant.”

Though they had traversed the desert expanse and neared their generalized objective using their intelligence reports, pinning down the precise coordinate of their quarry remained an exceptional challenge. The inner workings of the Calcos Tribal Federation were notoriously shrouded in secrecy, and the nomadic nature of their populations meant they were in constant motion.

If they allowed their momentum to stall, the supreme leader would undoubtedly catch wind of their intrusion, neutralizing their window of opportunity to strike him down via a swift ambush.

‘If the absolute worst manifests, we might find ourselves forced to cut through the entire military force of the Federation before we even lay eyes on him.’

If the enemy commander chose to constantly reposition himself while throwing wave after wave of tribal soldiers into their path as disposable shields, their stamina could easily bottom out before they ever forced a final confrontation.

“Huh? What is there to be anxious about? The solution is entirely straightforward!”

Naturally, expecting a man built like a fortress to contemplate tactical exhaustion was an exercise in futility. Isea watched him closely, briefly harboring a faint, desperate hope that he might provide a stroke of unorthodox tactical brilliance…

“We march straight into the heart of their primary stronghold! We break anyone brave enough to stand in our way! We demolish every barrier they throw up to slow our advance! And once that is done, we take the supreme leader’s head! What could possibly be simpler than that? Wahaha!”

“Ah… quite… I suppose that is technically a method…”

She really should have known better than to expect a nuanced strategy. At this point, she couldn’t even summon the energy to feel disappointed.

“Rest easy. We possess a definitive destination.”

The champion, standing at the helm of their small vanguard, stepped to her side and spoke with absolute certainty. His gaze was fixed on a dark outline silhouette on the distant horizon, his features cast in a somber mold.

“The fortified desert settlement situated just ahead, Beorsen—. That is our objective.”

“…The supreme leader is holding court within its walls?”

“Indeed, alongside…”

Heinrich’s expression grew noticeably taut. He paused for a brief, tense moment before lowering his tone to a grim whisper.

“…the undying sovereign himself… Hannibal Strauss.”

—

Beorsen, the central seat of power for Supreme Leader Baltheon.

[…So the moths fly toward the flame. Delightful, that suits my purposes splendidly. Hehehehe—]

Deep within the cavernous halls of the most imposing stone structure in the city, a silhouette draped in absolute darkness let out a low, raspy chuckle. He eagerly awaited the moment their paths would cross once more.