Volume 8 Chapter 42 Brigante’s Fateful Decision
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”It’s such a lively town,” Cianie said, glancing at the crowd.
”More like noisy—or sweltering, maybe,” Klock replied under his breath.
They walked together through the town of earth and clay. Under a thin veil of clouds that softened the sunlight, they surveyed earthen walls stretching endlessly in view.
This town, Conro, was surrounded by massive walls. Every adjacent structure was also made of packed earth. Some surfaces bore scale-like patterns; others were smooth, evoking a sandy seashore texture. It felt unusual, even alien, among the cities they had seen.
Here, everything—houses, streets—shared the same pale off-white hue. It was neither overtly urban nor rural—like having stumbled into another era altogether. The walls, the town: all of it seemed constructed by magic.
Even though it was “just earth,” none had seen anything like it before. The novelty made their hearts flutter with unease and wonder.
”The people here are so cheerful,” Cianie observed.
”Yeah,” Klock agreed. “I don’t think that’s coincidence. The whole town seems brimming with energy.”
This atmosphere was a stark contrast to Barreith or Rushelora’s home. The occupied port towns, the mining city veiled in uncertainty—they felt heavy and oppressive. But Conro? That vigor was unmatched.
They heard one explanation almost immediately after entering: in the war of Sanrid, the humans had claimed a decisive victory. The Demon Lord’s army had failed to breach the capital. That victory, they said, was reason for the town’s spirited mood.
Klock and his party, wandering like lost souls, found themselves stepping into the rowdiest tavern in the district. It was obvious: for gathering intel, this was the place.
Seated at the counter, amid wafts of hearty cooking aromas, they watched the patrons. Cianie said, “Everyone’s eating regular food.”
Klock nodded. Given how dire things had been where they came from, even this tavern’s atmosphere told volumes. The meals looked normal—no rations, no bleak supplies.
This town, even in wartime, maintained trade routes. The clientele ranged from rugged adventurers to civilians without arms, even some soldiers in uniform and extravagant hats. They dined like it was peace time—and for Conro’s residents, perhaps that was the norm.
A guardlike man at the bar scowled. “What are you lot staring at? You looking for someone?”
Klock answered casually, “Nah, just curious. We just got here from Jeil yesterday.”
”Jeil, huh? Going to join the army, are ye?” the man asked.
A rough fellow reached over, patted Klock on the shoulder, and grinned. “If you get out alive, drinks on me,” he said.
”Are you from Orrid?” he inquired.
At present, Conro was actively recruiting soldiers everywhere. Signs dotted the town; rumors said nearby villages had been sending people too. Orrid lay two weeks south.
There was talk of launching a major counterattack from there.
”Do you think it’ll work out?” Cianie asked.
”Beats me. We don’t even know the situation,” Klock replied.
In reality, they had unintentionally revealed their purpose: joining the battle. When they spoke that aloud, it became difficult to take it back.
Passing through the city gate had been surprisingly easy. When Klock asked about recruitment, the guards let them through without fuss. Given that, they expected to stay only briefly—but Conro provided lodging, too. With so many recruits, it took some time, but the city had arranged quarters for them.
”Since they supposedly repelled the Demon Lord already in Sanrid, riding that momentum doesn’t sound wrong,” Klock mused.
”Still, we don’t know the details. Worry creeps up,” Cianie said softly.
They had said they were here to enlist. With that, they lost the chance to retract. Getting housing meant they were committed.
They were instructed to wait and follow orders. In effect, Brigante had come under Conro’s authority.
”If this is a winning campaign, not a bad deal. Food, shelter, and a chance to make something. But I don’t trust it’ll go smoothly,” Klock added.
”Life seldom’s that easy,” Cianie murmured.
Brigante numbered about two hundred. That size meant they couldn’t take on the Demon Lord’s army alone. To succeed, they would have to cooperate with city forces.
In that sense, being accepted militarily in Conro was appealing. South in Sanrid, the humans had already defeated the Demon Lord. The remaining cities in the federation were forging alliances. Enlisting here wasn’t such a bad idea.
The issue, though: Brigante risked disappearing. Under Conro’s control, military command would shift to the city. The two hundred members—civilians and adventurers alike—would likely get absorbed as part of the force of Orrid, scattering Brigante as a distinct entity. It would effectively dissolve them.
Brigante was not a formal organization. Its purpose was defeating the Demon Lord, not maintaining structure.
If they succeeded in recruiting two hundred people and sending them into battle under human command, then their mission would be complete.
But this only works if they win. If the Orrid counterattack failed, they’d lose soldiers.
”What if we lose? Then we have no next move. Maybe I’ll use the ‘Hero’ to storm the administrative offices,” Klock said decisively.
To call himself a Hero meant diving into politics. If vulnerabilities showed, he’d be exploited. Victories would be claimed by others, failures blamed on him. He might escape blame—but he could also be undone.
”Anyway, I’m the one to take blame, fine. I just can’t let Cianie accuse me,” Klock muttered.
To preserve that condition would require cunning.
”Oh, you’re here,” a gentle voice interrupted from nearby.
Klock turned. Someone sat quietly at his side.
”Came to share some important information sooner rather than later,” she said softly.
”Already? Suzette, you really can do anything,” Cianie said in surprise. “We only just found the tavern.”
Suzette accepted the remark with composure. The Hero often praised her. He did the same with Meina, indulging her often, so perhaps it was deliberate. Cianie’s old behavior toward household servants was unknown, but it wasn’t hard to imagine those experiences carried forward into her manner now.
”The ones who provided the information were traveling merchants,” Suzette explained. “They came from Yelena, in the Empire.”
”Oh? What did they say?” Klock asked.
”They spoke of the current movements of the Demon Lord’s army, and gave predictions on their advance,” Suzette replied.
At that, Klock and Cianie exchanged looks. For them—still uncertain of the broader situation—this was precisely the information they needed.
”In the west, the Blade Peninsula of Stras has been occupied. To the northwest, they’ve pushed as far as the Grosset region of old Crotopone. In the north, southern Bernsa has been subdued, but they haven’t yet stepped into Imperial territory. To the east, the capital Sanrid has become the front line. Fierce battles rage there—encirclement and repulsion repeating again and again,” Suzette continued.
Klock furrowed his brows and stroked his chin. “…Doesn’t sound as bad as I thought.”
”I agree,” Suzette said. “I expected far worse. Their rate of expansion seems to have slowed. The pace is still fast, but compared to the initial onslaught, it looks like they’ve stalled. Perhaps Gasthira stumbled.”
Klock shared the impression. The army’s opening thrust had been brutally swift. When even Hermine had been overwhelmed, he thought it natural they would be pushed into hopelessness.
”According to what we’ve gathered, Princess Hermine was defeated at Bernsa,” Suzette went on. “Normally the Empire’s northern lands would have been deeply invaded by now. Yet the merchants said the Demon Lord’s army halted northward expansion, focusing instead on the eastern front.”
”Or maybe those peddlers just don’t know any better?” Klock countered.
”If the army had invaded Lazirint, the city of Hesnia would be first to fall. Once monsters approached, Hesnia’s magic tower would instantly signal all of the Empire,” Suzette explained.
”A magic tower, huh…” Klock muttered.
At least it meant the army had not neared Hesnia. The merchants claimed they themselves had crossed the Brest Mountains from Yelena to reach Conro. That meant their Empire news was nearly firsthand.
That condition mattered. Rumors and hearsay were untrustworthy at best. In wartime, false reports could be deliberate—spies, even majin disguised as humans, spreading lies. Without clear origin, information was worthless.
”They also said no fighting has occurred inside the Empire yet,” Suzette added. “But an edict forbids approaching Bernsa. When I asked directly, they said they knew nothing. It’s possible the common folk don’t even know their princess has fallen.”
”But they are fighting at Bernsa,” Klock thought. “So it’s not that there’s no war—it’s that the Empire is concealing the truth from its own people. Still, if Lazirint were under threat, evacuation orders would be given. If the merchants haven’t heard that, maybe the northern advance truly has stopped.”
”If the Empire is safe, that’s good news,” Klock admitted. “But then, why haven’t they pushed north? Do the Demon Lord’s forces fear some outrageous magic weapon?”
He tilted his head. Suzette wore an uncertain expression. When he glanced toward Cianie across the table, she quietly shook her head.
”They did invade north repeatedly, no doubt about that,” Klock said firmly. “The princess herself told us, and I saw the monster corpses with my own eyes. If they stopped now, there must be a reason.”
”Could they really call it off so suddenly?” Suzette asked.
”Maybe it’s only delayed,” Klock suggested. “They’re attacking on all fronts. Could be they simply ran out of troops.”
”In that case, their strategy leaves them full of openings,” Suzette replied with a faint frown.
”From the start, Gasthira declared war on the kingdom, the federation, and the Empire all at once,” Suzette continued. “Maybe they thought they could win—but it’s arrogance, or underestimating humans. The result was to push humans into unity, leading to the great battle at Albirlgo. What would they have done if they had lost?”
It was easier to fight one nation at a time. Instead, the Demon Lord’s army picked a fight with all. Reckless, perhaps—but was it truly foolish? Bandits or spies could imagine the simple approach. Surely a king or general of the majin would think beyond that.
”They probably forced the great battle on purpose,” Klock mused. “They wanted a big victory to trumpet.”
Nobody wants a fight with uncertain outcome. But if necessary, it must be done.
”By winning a decisive battle, they compelled the outsider races to submit,” Klock reasoned. “Gasthira has deep internal divisions. Some of them surely weren’t eager for war. But if word of victory spread at home, they’d believe Gasthira could win the entire war. Even those unwilling to follow the majin would have no choice but to rise.”
The Demon Lord’s army had chosen not to pursue steady territorial gain. Internal stability ranked higher than conquest. The war itself contained that priority.
”Their plan is blitzkrieg,” Klock said flatly. “Fast, efficient strikes. Crush weak foes immediately. That’s why at first, before the battle of Albirlgo, the humans were overwhelmed. But if this prediction is right, their push has been checked.”
”You’re right,” Suzette agreed. “They captured Ulben in mere days at the start. Yet they haven’t advanced west of the Blade Peninsula for three months now. It means Stras has held them this entire time.”
The Kingdom of Stras possessed Holy Knight Tiet. If that supreme power was wielded well, even the Demon Lord’s army couldn’t advance easily. But strength alone was personal. With enough force, even she would have to retreat. And if her allies fell back, she must fall with them.
If the Demon Lord’s army had played it by the book, fighting flawlessly, then…
”So the halted advance just means Stras is that capable, huh. Maybe even losing the peninsula was on purpose,” Klock said. “If you’ve got too much land to defend, small forces are at a disadvantage. But if they let the enemy take hard-to-hold ground and focused defense on stronger positions, it’d be efficient. If that’s true, Stras is incredible. Even outnumbered many times over, they’ve held them back this whole time.”
”Livorno is being helped by the Theocracy, right?” Cianie asked.
”Yes,” Suzette replied. “They’ve endured for long, but I heard it’s a brutal battlefield. The remaining kingdom soldiers must be fighting desperately.”
”Nah,” Klock countered. “Livorno may be royal territory, but the Theocracy can’t abandon it either. Those zealots are serious too.”
”Really? Fritz’s people never struck me as the type to fight for someone else’s sake,” Suzette said calmly, though her words cut sharp.
That was blunt, but not wrong. Klock also thought the Theocracy folk seemed cold by nature.
”Still, their land’s huge and mostly flat,” Klock explained. “If Livorno falls, the enemy floods straight through the Plains of Jei.”
”I see. So that’s why they can’t pull back,” Suzette nodded.
Geography bound them. It was likely that most kingdom troops had already broken. At Livorno, many Crotopone soldiers might have deserted. By contrast, Theocracy soldiers, fighting to defend their homeland, would hold firmer.
”These forecasts come from merchants’ gathered reports, so we can’t be sure,” Suzette reminded. “But from what we see, Stras risks being pressed hard if attacked from both south at the Blade and north at Grosset.”
”A small country like Stras can’t fight two fronts against an army that size,” Klock said. “But if things hold now, it means the Demon Lord’s army can’t pull it off. To march into Maruc they’d need to pass Livorno. If they focus on Stras, Theocracy could strike from the south, cutting them off.”
It was unclear how much force the Demon Lord had committed west. Likely they couldn’t run full campaigns on three axes—Livorno, Maruc, and the Blade. If they could, they would’ve already. The stalemate meant they couldn’t. Which suggested their next likely move.
”Keep Stras tied down at the Blade, and first seize Livorno,” Klock reasoned.
”Hermine did say she repelled them several times at Livorno,” Cianie recalled. “That must be their real priority. Hard to capture, but if they do, they’ll block northern counterattacks.”
”Take Livorno, hold back northern armies, then march west. If that happens—” Suzette’s voice trailed.
”—the front could shift all at once,” Klock finished.
But it was all conjecture. No firsthand voices, no fresh intelligence. It might already have changed.
”For now, let’s set aside the west,” Klock decided. “The north too. We can only hope nothing shifts soon.”
That left the east—their own front.
”Sanrid, the capital, is under siege,” Suzette reported gravely.
”What? Didn’t they repel it already?” Klock asked.
”Yes. This is the second encirclement.”
He bit back the urge to curse. War shifted by the hour.
”It seems the recruitment here in Orrid is for Sanrid’s liberation,” Suzette continued. “Last time, a surprise attack freed it. But this time, they’re in dire straits.”
”You know what tactics were used before?” Klock asked.
Such things weren’t broadcast, but word spread quickly. Storytellers earned coin passing tales.
”In the last battle, Sanrid chose to hole up from the start,” Suzette explained. “The Demon Lord’s army encircled but didn’t storm it. Then they split their forces and pushed down the Nichirin Road. That’s when humans struck, breaking them apart. The army around Sanrid was crushed between Sanrid and Orrid’s forces. The detachment along Nichirin was pursued and destroyed as well.”
”So that actually worked? Incredible,” Klock said. “Did they really leave Orrid unguarded?”
”Hard to say. The story makes it sound that way,” Suzette admitted.
From what they heard, the Demon Lord’s army had moved with glaring flaws. But could it truly be blunders? These were the conquerors of the Demon Continent. Hard to believe they’d lose by carelessness.
”Now, Sanrid’s besieged again,” Suzette went on. “I don’t know the exact timeline, but if the army stopped advancing north, maybe they shifted those troops east.”
That would explain it. The battles at Sanrid and Nichirin must have drained them, forcing redeployment eastward. It also explained why they didn’t keep pressing the Empire. Losing a princess was a massive blow; recovery would take time. For the Demon Lord’s army, it was an opportunity—but they chose to focus east instead.
”If that’s true, then Sanrid isn’t the only one in danger,” Klock said grimly. “Conro is too.”
Eastward thrusts weren’t limited to Nichirin Road or the Moonfall Corridor. They could march north from Mostal and hit Conro through the Mikabe Pass—the very route Brigante once planned to use toward Bernsa.
”Brigante is slated to join the Sanrid liberation. But if Conro falls while we march south—”
”—our rear will be exposed,” Suzette finished.
That would be disastrous. If Conro was taken, the enemy could surge into Diva directly. Retreat to the Empire would be cut off, and Orrid’s forces would be squeezed between two fronts.
Human forces were thin. They needed to focus efficiently, front by front, or risk collapse.
Sending troops to Sanrid isn’t the wrong choice,” Klock muttered. “But what happens if Conro gets surrounded? Can they hold until reinforcements come? These soldiers aren’t the same as in the old days. Back then, war was all they knew. Now they’ve lived in peace. They’ll break. Fear will freeze them, and then they’ll start deserting one after another. If I were in their boots, I’d run too.”
”So those monsters we fought earlier…” Cianie began.
”Most likely survivors or scouts coming north from the Diva plains,” Suzette answered. “Since they moved in packs, scouts seem more likely. They’d be keeping watch for reinforcements from Deilid and Barreith.”
”…But the enemy already struck Barreith, right? You think Deilid’s still standing?” Klock asked.
”…I hadn’t thought of that,” Suzette admitted.
Deilid lay along the Regina coast. If the Demon Lord’s army marched north from Nichirin Road, they’d pass it. Barreith had already been attacked. That meant Deilid likely had too.
Sophia, Diva, those regions—they needed separate intelligence gathering. For all they knew, Deilid had already been used as a landing site.
* * *
After some time, the three left the tavern and returned to their quarters. The city’s buildings, all shaped from hardened earth by magic, stretched in the same monotone. Mud walls, mud streets, mud halls—it all blurred together. Finding their way back through the endless sameness was tiresome. Eventually, they rejoined Meina and the others at the dormitory.
The lodging was no exception. Earth walls again, carved into a wide communal hall that felt more like a cave than a house. It even resembled a honeycomb tomb. Fine for a temporary camp, but if someone told him he had to spend his life here, Klock thought he’d run tomorrow.
”Oh. Perfect timing,” a voice called.
”We heard you were looking for us,” another replied.
Amid the crowd, bright orange hair stood out. Primlena, cloaked and hooded, had shown herself—something rare. She seldom appeared during marches or camps. To see her in the middle of a gathering was striking. Beside her, ears hidden beneath her own hood, stood Flavia.
”You two know each other?” Klock asked.
”We just became acquainted,” Primlena answered coolly.
A forest princess and a merfolk princess. Both hailed from races under the Demon Lord’s army, yet they hadn’t met before. At least, they didn’t seem hostile. Both had approached Klock for similar reasons. There was common ground between them.
The two carried an air apart from humans. Klock found himself staring until Primlena averted her gaze. Embarrassed, maybe. He felt smug for a moment—then Suzette pinched his cheek sharply from the side. He hadn’t noticed her approach.
Eyes from all around pressed on him. This was Brigante’s makeshift barracks, and its members watched their leader. At the edges, he spotted Rachel, Kaitney, and other girls their age among the older men. Too many were watching. He pretended not to care.
”Oh, Boit! Already drunk at this hour?” Klock called loudly.
”What the hell are you on about? I haven’t had a drop!” Boit barked.
”…Not yet?” Klock pressed.
The jab drew Nora’s glare. She struck her father sharply, demanding answers for his supposed misconduct. Boit floundered in protest, trying to explain himself while Klock grinned. Poetic justice, he thought.
Heavy steps announced Moritz, the Rushelora shipyard owner, striding in with his usual swagger. The scouts and informants had mostly returned now.
”Boit. I’ve got something on my mind,” Klock began, lounging back in his chair.
”We need to find someone powerful to back us. A patron. You know anyone?”
”Like hell. And what’s this about patrons? Weren’t we heading for Orrid?” Boit scowled.
”No. We’re not,” Klock said flatly.
The sudden reversal, just a day after committing to Orrid, drew frowns from Boit and Moritz alike. Klock caught the narrowed eyes of the two princesses, weighing him silently.
”We should fight alongside the city armies, yes,” Klock explained. “But if we get absorbed into them, our options vanish. We need to hold Brigante together as our own force.”
”You’re the one who said we’d join Orrid’s march,” Boit shot back.
”That was an accident. I slipped up. Called it wrong at the gate. Not on purpose,” Klock replied with a grin, brushing it off. Boit clearly didn’t care.
But Klock caught the man’s distant look. Detached. Too detached. He knew the type. Boit might plan to vanish once they were in Conro. A scoundrel recognizes another. Klock made a mental note: have Meina keep Nora close.
”In any case,” Klock continued, “our stance is this—we keep Brigante intact. But without joining the official army, they’ll throw us out of Conro. Without fighting, this troop has no purpose. So we need someone powerful to shield us. A patron who’ll give us legitimacy and let us fight as Brigante.”
Civilian militias, even if willing to help, would be forced into the army. Refuse, and they’d be branded troublemakers. Brigante needed recognized standing. Respect. Authority.
”We need a lord. A high official. Someone willing to back us before the call-up order lands,” Klock said. “If they also give us arms, all the better.”
”Yeah right. As if,” Boit said, raising his hands. Moritz shook his head. They knew better than to expect miracles.
Perhaps it was reckless. Suzette and Cianie stood quiet. So did Primlena and Flavia, unreadable. His maid and childhood friend would follow him anywhere. But the princesses? They might decide he wasn’t worth their time and slip away. Difficult allies indeed.
But without a foundation, they had no battlefield at all. For Cianie to unleash her fire freely, Klock had to secure it. The real question was how to find such a patron.
When he finished speaking, Klock slumped deep into his chair, eyes closed, feigning idleness. The others drifted away—Boit and Moritz muttering, Suzette and Meina stepping out. Only Cianie remained, standing guard quietly by his side. Klock, though looking lazy, turned his thoughts hard, scouring every scrap of knowledge he had for an answer.
Notes:
• Cianie – A noble girl with a fluffy white and light blue dress, indicating her high status. She has a hesitant and flustered personality but is kind and courteous. Her relationship with Klock begins as an accidental encounter and develops into a romantic interest. She has a fiancé but expresses feelings for Klock, complicating their relationship.
• Rushelora – A port where demons are allowed to stay at embassies under special circumstances. It is a location where humans and demons have trade relations.
• Suzette – The older maid from Viscount Fennec. The head maid at the Viscount Fennec’s villa. She is confident, clear-spoken, and professional.
• Meina – She is a golden-haired catgirl employee of the beastman (Larana the cat woman) Inn, appeared performing fellatio, desperate and tear-streaked, with an inexperienced yet earnest approach to her work.
• Gasthira – United Kingdom of Gasthira. Demonkin-led absolute monarchy; has a parliamentary system this generation; treats humans as enemies; suffers from poor working conditions.
• Hermine – Daughter of the Emperor of the Second Empire of Dusselhelm. A companion and friend of Anna. The mage. She is pragmatic and encourages Anna to focus on her duties as a hero rather than her personal revenge.
• Albirlgo – Plains location of the decisive battle between the Human Alliance Army and the Demon Lord Army.
• Tiet – A companion and friend of Anna. A holy knight from the royal capital. She wears light armor and carries a shield adorned with a dragon holding a sword, indicating her affiliation with the National Military Police. She is concerned about Anna’s well-being and tries to support her emotionally.
• Flavia – Younger Forestkin princess (132). Gentle yet resolute. Sent by Queen Isabella as marriage pledge to Klock, the Chain Binder, symbolizing the Void’s loyalty to the Goddess Teekua.
• Primlena – Orange-haired merfolk priestess, fierce yet elegant | First v8c3 | Sister of Sea General Primjune, subordinate to Primrity | Once captured and violated by Klock, now obsessed with reclaiming honor | Commands Obsidian Riders on giant fish, fights with trident | Seeks to drag Klock to Seabed Temple for marriage trial or execution | Unique note: revenge-driven siren bride who masks fury under ritual grace
• Boit – A merchant involved in human trafficking, with a villainous face and a loud, obnoxious voice. He is pragmatic and willing to help Klock escape the country in exchange for something. His relationship with Klock is business-like, though both are aware of each other’s illicit activities.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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