Chapter 7

※The prologue ends here.

※I made a mistake in the name, so I corrected it.

（Erroneous）Wolf Fang Knights → （Correct）Black Claw Knights

The Alcan Mountains are just barren hills.

A desolate place of sand, rock, and snow that never melts, with no trees or wild animals. The only things to be found are fossils of the plants and animals that once ruled the earth before humans flourished.

"You're late, Lord Ionian."

In a crevice between the rocks on the mountainside, a tent was pitched as if to hide. The tent was colored to blend naturally with its surroundings, and it would be almost impossible to spot from a kilometer away. It was a campsite designed for concealment.

"Sorry, Dewey."

Ionian called out the name of the man standing in the tent.

He was a man in his fifties, with a mix of white hair in his buzz cut.

His build was not bulky but solid, and he had scars all over his body.

He had the air of a seasoned warrior.

"...You look quite exhausted. Did you run into any trouble?"

"I almost got spotted by the hounds."

"That's... You managed to escape well."

The "hounds" did not refer to actual dogs.

They were the specialized knights of the Dylann Magic Kingdom, the "Black Claw Knights," who were tasked with capturing rebels, and also referred to the magic they specialized in, "Hounds."

The magic "Hounds" involved creating dogs with magic and having them track a scent to attack. It was a terrifying magic that could not be finely controlled, and the user could not cast any other spells while using it. However, it had an incredibly long range and was relentless. It was the perfect magic for killing rebels. The rebels, filled with fear, hatred, and contempt, called them "hounds" rather than the Black Claw Knights.

"I was almost tracked by the scent of the meat I had. I managed to escape by pressing a wild carapace against it."

"Did you escape just by doing that?"

"I recently learned that the 'Hounds' can't make complex judgments like real dogs. There are various ways to deceive them. I'll explain in detail later."

"You noticed well... But the carapace must have suffered."

"It's a smart creature. It might seek revenge if we meet again."

"Don't die yet."

"Of course... Well, is it about time?"

Saying that, Ionian took out a strange tube from his pocket.

"What's that?"

"It's a telescope. Don't use magic to see far. You might be detected."

"Even from this distance?"

"Bazalde focuses on firepower, but his disciples are skilled at detection. It's better to be cautious."

"I understand."

"It's starting."

Immediately after Ionian's words, dust rose in the distance.

It was a chariot unit.

Two horses were pulling the chariot side by side.

There were also two people on the chariot, just like the horses.

It was a peculiar chariot.

Usually, the soldiers who operate the chariot would hold spears or bows.

But they were holding large round shields.

"So, these are the main weapons for this operation."

"Yes, the Anti-Magic Mirrors. They are made from the shells of dragon breath clams."

"They are giant clams found in dragon nests, right?"

Ionian's murmur was met with a nod from Dewey.

"Ordinary clams can't live in such places, but dragon breath clams absorb the magic of dragons and surrounding metals to create special shells. They are impervious to even a dragon's breath, making them impenetrable shields."

"It was fortunate to have so many of them."

"They found a place that used to be a dragon's nest by reading ancient maps. When they experimented, the mirrors repelled all attack spells."

"However, this is the first time they will face 'Blazing Light.'"

"...Yes."

"More experiments should have been done."

Ionian's voice was filled with bitterness.

"That... couldn't be helped. If even a hint of a counterattack was seen, it would be best to act as quickly as possible. Many have lost their families."

Dewey's voice carried a different kind of bitterness.

Frustration and envy.

Ionian was acutely aware of these feelings.

"Did you want to go too?"

"The rebel army has split. But their ultimate goal is the same."

The Dylann Magic Kingdom boasts peace and prosperity.

But beneath that, countless grudges fester.

Descendants of destroyed nations.

People whose homes were burned in the war.

Or those expelled from Dylann.

Ionian, Dewey, and those far away, riding in chariots, were all comrades who had resolved to rebel against and avenge the Dylann Magic Kingdom.

"I can't afford to lose you yet. Besides, we need someone to witness this battle."

"I understand that it's my duty."

Many in the rebel army longed for an early start to the war, leading to this uprising.

But a moderate faction opposed it, arguing that the time was not right.

The debate among the rebel leaders became heated, resulting in a split. However, they were not at odds. The moderates, led by Ionian, were entrusted with preparations in case the uprising failed, while the rest went into battle. Ionian also hoped for the success of the uprising.

Dewey, emotionally, was a proponent of the war. Originally, Dewey was a close aide to the king of a nation destroyed by the Dylann Magic Kingdom. The king he served and his own family were killed. Although he was not part of the army due to his skills as a messenger and spy, he desperately wanted to take revenge.

"Ah...!"

At that moment, a flash of light, like a bolt of lightning but not quite, burst through the sky.

It was a straight beam of light, almost horizontal, coming from a distance.

"Here it comes, it's Bazalde...!"

The light, fired from a distance, swept over the chariot unit.

A grating sound, like metal scraping against metal, magnified hundreds of times, echoed.

"To think he can hit so accurately from such a distance... Damn it."

Through the telescope, Ionian glared at the source of the light.

There, the army of the Dylann Magic Kingdom was stationed.

However, despite being led by the top of the nation, their numbers were fewer than the rebels.

About two or three hundred.

"Look over there, they're all infantry. They're all soldiers protecting Bazalde, and only Bazalde is attacking."

"...They're underestimating us. Even King Alan isn't here."

"They need to instill fear that even a witch can't be defeated. They need to show their confidence."

"But that confidence will be their downfall."

Dewey's gaze turned to the rebel chariot unit.

The chariot unit was still alive.

"One shot was deflected. But..."

Ionian observed the battle.

"One shot was deflected. Surely..."

Dewey whispered, filled with hope.

But what followed was nothing short of tragic.

The chariot unit deflected one, two shots.

Then, the witch Bazalde held nothing back.

She fired beams several times thicker than before.

A torrent of light, so intense it seemed to burn the eyes, crisscrossed the battlefield.

After firing dozens of shots, perhaps.

The grating sound of metal clashing was no longer heard.

The shields were destroyed.

Simultaneously, everything else was incinerated.

People, horses, their weapons—everything vanished as if it had never existed.

"Wh-what... So easily... Even with all that equipment...!"

Dewey trembled, clenching his fists.

He was so agitated and excited that he might have run out.

"Calm down, Dewey."

"But!"

"We've seen a glimpse of Bazalde's true power. We've been observing the battle from hiding for nearly ten years. She's never been this frantic, firing spells like that. It means she's in a tight spot. Look at the battlefield. The chariot unit was almost within reach of Dylann's army. It's an achievement no one has ever accomplished."

"But they didn't reach! Despite all the equipment and training, it wasn't enough! Our tactics are exposed, and they will take countermeasures!"

Dewey's voice was tinged with despair.

Ionian embraced Dewey's shoulder, as if to comfort him.

"...It's our job to close the remaining distance. That was Bazalde's true power. They will come up with countermeasures for the Anti-Magic Mirrors. But they must have seen those as our last weapon. We now know what we need to do. It's tough, but... don't stop now."

"Lord Ionian..."

Ionian pressed his forehead against Dewey's, as if to headbutt him.

Beneath the foreheads, eyes burned like raging fires.

Tears threatened to spill, but he held them back, glaring at the battlefield with a fiery gaze.

Not the eyes of a carefree, confident artist.

"Listen, Dewey. We are going to defeat that monster."

The eyes of a warrior were there.