Translator: Marctempest
Editor/Proofreader: TempWane
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Chapter 77: To the Landfill (4)
The path toward the Empire.
Beyond the pure white clouds, a sudden flurry of snowflakes covered the sky.
The temperature of the continent in the midst of winter was said to be plummeting drastically… but I didn’t feel it.
“Are you cold?”
“Not at all. It’s rather mild today.”
Apparently, not only I but the others around me seemed oblivious to the cold.
I realized once again how extraordinary this group was.
It was while I was glancing at Chandrafail, who answered indifferently.
A voice came from behind.
“By the way, how are you so unaffected?”
The White Dragon King’s back carried me, Nell, and three others, including Chandrafail, and it was Dewade who spoke.
“Me? Are you talking about me?”
“Yes, you.”
The owner of the gentle yet commanding voice was Paile.
Dewade nodded in affirmation.
“I sense no unusual aura from you. By all accounts, you appear to be an ordinary girl.”
“Uh… yes, that’s correct.”
“Yet, in the Snowfield and even now, you seem entirely unaffected.”
That seemed to be what puzzled him.
Could he not know about the snow rabbit coat?
“Oh, that’s because…”
Surely, there had been a chance for him to find out in the Snowfield.
He had no problem talking to me, but it seemed he had little interest in the others.
Paile cheerfully explained with a bright smile.
“Quellière helped me. This coat she gave me has the ability to ward off the cold.”
“…! Oh, what a generous treasure to bestow…!”
“…”
At that point, I tuned out.
As always, the Holy Knight’s praises were about to begin.
While his repertoire predictably unfolded, a nearby voice cut in.
“Who was that woman earlier?”
“Hm?”
The distinctive sharp tone.
There was only one likely culprit.
Of course, it was Nell, her eyes brimming with curiosity.
“Was her name Lysithea? That woman.”
“Ah.”
Well, it wasn’t surprising that she wouldn’t know.
I gave a simple reply.
“She’s someone I knew from the past.”
“From when, exactly?”
“Back when Lysithea was around Paile’s age.”
She hadn’t been a child, but she certainly wasn’t an adult either.
Nell’s eyes widened briefly, clearly surprised.
“Oh… That’s… quite a long time ago.”
“Yes. But why do you ask?”
“Huh? No reason… I was just curious.”
She awkwardly scratched the back of her neck.
It was understandable.
“I see.”
I turned my gaze forward.
At some point, we had reached the central region of the continent.
The Empire’s borders were now just ahead.
[Quellière. Should we keep heading this way?]
Mishra’s voice reverberated deeply.
I pondered for a moment. If we continued in this direction, we would reach the capital, Roblock.
That worked perfectly.
“Yes, proceed this way.”
I gave a small nod.
*
The Empire had driven out many lesser gods, yet it remained under constant assault.
Being the mightiest nation, it boasted a flourishing culture and a dense population.
To lesser gods, it was an irresistibly tempting target, drawing a series of monstrous invasions.
However, the name of the great nation was not for nothing.
The Imperial Command, already seasoned by such circumstances, developed systematic strategies and effectively repelled its foes.
Through sword and sorcery, knights and mages.
Such a response was possible because both military arms had flourished in the Empire.
“…”
Meanwhile, in the capital, Roblock.
Within a corner of the Empire’s heart stood the Grypheon Ducal Residence.
Scratch, scratch─
In a private room of the residence, the green-haired duchess, Bulizé, sat alone.
She was engrossed in writing something with a fountain pen.
“The agenda for the royal council meeting was approved… and the Emperor’s personal correspondence received so far amounts to roughly…”
Organizing the current situation while refreshing her mind—this was something of a habit for her.
Her hands and mouth never stopped, her gaze unwaveringly serious.
“One of the three nations opposes the response… an exceptionally favorable development.”
If the problem were directly related to her family’s stability and her personal tranquility, she was always like this.
Scribble─ Scratch─
“The content is about the reclamation of the landfill, yet it’s this bad······. Could it be that everyone turned their attention away because of the calamity’s full-scale invasion?”
The participation of the Holy Kingdom was expected to be a great help.
The endless attacks of the monsters.
If the landfill, the calamity’s domain, were eradicated, everything would be resolved.
“The imperial army has already been dispatched. The defensive troops are a carefully selected elite, and the commanding officer is Artan.”
The Crown Prince willingly stepped into the vanguard.
Though it was an incredibly dangerous task, he couldn’t avoid it as the one who proposed the subjugation plan.
Even if that weren’t the case, he would have gone no matter what.
“Tsk.”
Bulizé clicked her tongue lightly.
In any case, the point of no return had already been crossed.
Now, victory was the only option.
Just as she was about to scribble with her pen again, a certain thought filled her mind.
The Crown Prince’s romantic interest.
“Surely, it was Quellière.”
A goddess or a being of higher dimensions.
Words so incredible they were difficult to believe.
Her appearance and traits─including her extremely cold personality─were relayed to her by her brother, Harold.
He added that she was someone they must never oppose.
“Will she also head to the landfill?”
It would be truly fortunate if her help could be enlisted.
However, a being of such magnitude was beyond human comprehension.
A regretful thing indeed.
“Haa······.”
As Bulizé sighed, urgent knocking echoed throughout the room.
Knock, knock, knock─
“Come in.”
Startled, she granted permission while looking toward the door.
The one who entered was the ducal knight, Sir Salun.
“My lady!”
His face, unusually distorted, conveyed his tension.
As if he had witnessed something shocking, his voice quivered fiercely.
Sensing something unusual, Bulizé inquired.
“What’s the mat-”
“A dragon has appeared!”
The response came faster than her question.
Bulizé blinked in confusion, her expression turning perplexed.
“···Pardon?”
The words were so absurd they were hard to process.
*
Indeed, the Empire was different.
Even in the midst of the chaos caused by the monster overflow, this place stood firmly intact.
We had arrived in the imperial territory.
From the center of Roblock, we overlooked the ground below.
“Kyaaaah! What is that!”
“It’s a dragon!”
People were uniformly astonished.
Even from this height, their screams pierced my ears.
Were imperial citizens naturally loud, or were they just that shocked?
I hoped they could endure a little longer since we’d soon be leaving.
“What are you planning to do in the Empire?”
At Nell’s question, I glanced back at her.
There was only one thing I needed.
“Information.”
“Information?”
“Yeah. Regarding the landfill and the Empire’s current situation related to it.”
That was why we came to the capital.
The place where the most information was bound to be concentrated.
As I contemplated my next move, I patted Mishra’s back with a familiar snap.
Boom─!
With that, she slowly descended.
By now, we had achieved this level of rapport.
It was a strange feeling, like successfully handling a hamster for the first time.
“The dragon is coming this way!”
“Everyone, back off!”
As we neared the ground, people stepped back to maintain a distance.
I looked around.
There was a library over there, and the imperial palace on the other side, so for now······.
It was then.
The sound of hurried footsteps accompanied by a voice reached me.
“Excuse me··· Please wait a moment!”
The voice was unfamiliar, but it was directed at me.
Turning around, I saw a green-haired woman accompanied by knights.
“…Huh?”
I tilted my head.
Who is this? Does she know me?
She looked straight at me despite her trembling hands clasped at her chest.
She seemed to have something to say.
“Are you… Quellière?”
Her words confirmed it.
She recognized me and wanted to talk.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have approached and mentioned me.
I spoke in my usual cold tone.
“Yes. And you are?”
“I’m Bulizé Grypheon, daughter of the Grypheon family.”
“…Bulizé.”
For a moment, I felt something strange.
The Crown Prince’s engagement story I heard from Sigina in the past—that was definitely the name of his fiancée.
“Artan’s fiancée.”
“…! Yes, that’s correct.”
Was she surprised that I knew?
Her eyes wavered slightly.
This was good timing.
If it was her, she would know far more about the Empire than she wouldn’t.
“Where is Artan now?”
I asked casually.
“…Huh?!”
The Crown Prince who had recently made his mark.
I needed to know if he was in the Empire or had gone to the landfill.
Bulizé, startled, stammered in response.
“Artan has already departed, leading the Imperial Army.”
“…! Departed. To the landfill?”
“Yes, it’s the path he carved out.”
This time, it was my turn to flinch.
Coming to the Snowfield and initiating this campaign—he was quick to act.
“I see.”
“Yes… Are you, perhaps, also heading there, Quellière?”
She asked cautiously.
There was no reason to hide it.
“Yes, I plan to go.”
“…Ah! Are you… planning to assist Artan?”
“No. That’s not it.”
While I wouldn’t let him die, he wasn’t my concern.
Ultimately, my goal was the Calamity.
Perhaps that wasn’t the answer she expected.
“…Huh? Oh, I see.”
Bulizé blinked with a subtle expression.
I remained perfectly calm.
“Yes.”
“…Ah. Of course, you wouldn’t be entangled in human emotions…”
She stared into space, then nodded as if something made sense to her.
Then, she asked another question.
“You’re going to the landfill to eliminate the Calamity, aren’t you?”
“Yes. That thing shouldn’t exist.”
My reply was succinct.
The Calamity and the landfill had always been intertwined.
It had lingered around us, a constant yet often unnoticed threat.
Like an unspoken truth.
Though for me, it was a little different.
This was part of the rules of the Four Seasons War.
“Do you think… that’s possible?”
In any case, as a native of this world, it was a question one might ponder at least once, and Bulizé was no exception.
It was evident from her asking.
“Possible?”
“Yes. Do you think it’s possible for the world’s evil to disappear? Can a continent without Calamity exist?”
Her pupils trembled.
Her slender eyes were clouded with unease.
It seemed the threatened peace had brought many worries to the forefront.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Ah…?! Well, because you’re Quellière…”
“And so?”
“Well, it’s just…”
Bulizé trailed off.
I didn’t know if she was unwilling or unable to explain, but I understood.
In times like this, one needs something to anchor themselves.
Even if it’s a single word from me.
I contemplated briefly.
“…”
I could just leave, but it felt wrong to ignore her trembling eyes filled with unease.
It wasn’t a difficult thing to do.
I had no intention of saying anything negative.
This matter was important to me as well.
That said, I saw no need to offer a forceful answer either… I would just frame it appropriately.
The reply I gave was concise.
“A flower that doesn’t waver in the wind doesn’t bloom.”
“Yes?”
A quote from a poem I’d heard somewhere.
To which I added my own opinion.
“If you overcome the wind, flowers will bloom anywhere. For you, and for the continent.”
I didn’t provide a definite answer.
It would only seem suspicious.
Just a vague message of hope. That should be enough.
“······!”
The last thing I saw was Bulizé with her eyes wide open.
She looked somehow impressed.
*
Having obtained the necessary information, Quellière left the Empire immediately.
Left behind in the heart of the capital, Bulizé stood in a daze, reflecting on their earlier conversation.
“A flower that doesn’t waver in the wind doesn’t bloom······.”
Words spoken with an unparalleled voice.
Those words, carrying a profound message, resembled a proverb.
It was the first time she had heard them, but their exceptional insight was clear.
“If you overcome the wind, flowers will bloom anywhere······. How could she be so kind?”
Such words couldn’t be spoken without a compassionate heart.
Bulizé realized that she had misunderstood her.
“She wasn’t just a cold person.”
Of course, her tone and expression were cold······ extremely cold, but her inner self was different.
The Quellière she had met in person was quite unlike what she had imagined.
Although it shouldn’t be so, she could somewhat understand why Artan was so fond of her.
“My lady.”
A voice broke her train of thought.
It was Salun, the knight escorting her.
“Is she really the goddess from the rumors?”
“···Yes. My brother said so as well.”
Salun’s mouth fell slightly open.
He rummaged through the memories etched into his mind.
Ten years ago, the six ducal knights who assisted in subjugating Anasha’s Serpent God.
He was one of them.
“······Ah. I see.”
The mysterious woman who had subdued the terrifying Serpent God as if it were merely a beast.
It felt as though the enigma that had lingered so vividly was finally resolved.
“Her strength was only natural, then.”
“Yes, that’s right. She’s that kind of being.”
Bulizé affirmed Salun’s understanding.
The two exchanged a meaningful nod, as if sharing a secret.
Then she turned to leave.
Though she didn’t hear a definitive answer from the goddess, it was clear she intended to confront the calamity.
Knowing this gave her a slight sense of relief.
“Lady Bulizé!”
Just as she was about to return to the duke’s manor, she came to an abrupt stop.
A somewhat grating voice reached her.
She didn’t know who it was, but calling a duke’s daughter simply “lady” was rather audacious.
Bulizé turned around, intending to reprimand whoever it was.
What she saw took her by surprise.
“Sir Agnatz······?”
Ragged clothing and a crooked monocle from running.
Despite his shabby appearance, it was undoubtedly the renowned theologian, Agnatz.
He shouted urgently.
“Did she······ did she say anything?”
“What?”
“Lady Quellière! I saw you speaking with her just now!”
He was uncharacteristically unsettled.
As usual, he had been immersed in his research at the laboratory.
But when he saw the dragon─the White Silver Dragon King─he ran out.
However, his physical ability had failed him, and he arrived too late.
“Sir Agnatz, please calm down······.”
“I am calm! Or, no, I will calm down! But-”
He had intended to formally greet her if they met again.
There was so much he wanted to ask her.
For Agnatz, it was a lamentable situation.
With bloodshot eyes, he cried out.
“Please, tell me!”
The dreamlike, singular higher-dimensional being of this era.
He couldn’t afford to miss a single word.