Chapter 347: Dryad Village (1)

Eugene made his decision.

“We’re heading to the Dryad Village. They enjoy the longest lifespan among all sentient races. If we can seek their wisdom, it will be a great help.”

The severed relationship with the dryads was Ostir’s fatal weakness. His ancestors had attempted to restore the alliance numerous times but were always refused.

“If the princess steps forward to restore the alliance, Ostir will be cornered.”

Druid Chief Albi nodded.

“The dryads are the finest gatherers, farmers, and apothecaries among us. Even if you’re a knight with nothing to fear, fighting a dragon in the forest is filled with countless variables. The poisons and medicines they prepare will surely save many lives in the battles to come.”

No one needed to explain the dryads’ nature to Valda, who knew them best.

“If our relationship with the dryads is restored, many villages will welcome it. As the princess said, there are rare herbs and catalysts obtainable only through them.”

“So your cooperation wasn’t just about receiving defensive aid?”

“If I may speak frankly, Your Majesty. Our village is fundamentally neutral.”

“Cutting ties with the human world and coming here, only to involve themselves in political disputes within the forest—it would be strange.”

When Eugene spoke understandingly, Albi placed his hand over his heart in gratitude.

With the destination decided, preparations for the march began in earnest. The spoils taken from the fallen orc warriors were distributed, and Eugene wanted only one thing.

“Take the weapons, armor, and other belongings. Just leave their liquor to us.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

Albi accepted Eugene’s offer with some regret. They had received great help in the battle, so conceding was the right thing to do.

“Is this really worth giving up everything else?”

“The orcs seemed to have quite a bit of gold and silver…”

The inexperienced knights couldn’t understand.

“Is the liquor that good?”

A young knight, curiosity piqued, picked up a rough leather flask and uncorked it. The immediate, vicious stench turned his face the color of mud.

“Ugh!”

“Smells heavenly, doesn’t it?”

“You call this… liquor?”

“It’s not so much liquor as it is true medicinal spirits. Haven’t you heard of Orcish Bitters?”

As it happened, only newly commissioned knights were nearby, so no one knew.

“It’s a secret brew made by orc shamans using pig carcasses. The taste and smell are horrific, but it drives away fatigue and invigorates the body. And there are virtually no side effects. It’s the finest emergency medicine there is.”

Even Eugene had been horrified the first time he saw orc liquor, but its efficacy was undeniable. Thanks to it, quite a few of his subordinates had pulled through critical moments.

-Your Grace, I don’t think this is—

-Shut up and drink this.

Subordinates weakened by injuries would feel vitality surge through their entire bodies after drinking orc clan liquor. There had been several cases where it replenished their stamina enough to reach the infirmary, saving their lives.

-Ugh…

-Feel like vomiting?

-If I vomit, you’ll just force me to drink more, won’t you?

-You know me well.

-I’d rather have a blade stuck in my gut. That’d be more bearable.

A sensation as unpleasant as something squirming alive filled their stomachs, but it was still better than dying.

*

Meanwhile, the veteran knights, setting aside political considerations, were excited about the dragon.

“I swear by the gods, I’m glad I followed His Majesty on this expedition.”

“A dragon! To have the honor of facing a dragon! The knights who stayed behind in Britannia will be green with envy when they hear this.”

A knight’s worth was determined by which powerful foe they fought. The magnificence of the monster subdued was soon an entry ticket. They could be invited as guests to free cities or noble households, saving living expenses and stepping onto the path to success.

What’s more, a dragon! Even if they couldn’t bring it down, just landing a single spear thrust would be enough. The honor of being one who had drawn dragon’s blood would follow them until the moment they died.

“If they’re dryads, they’re children of the forest surpassing even the elves! They surely possess deadly poisons that could even affect a dragon.”

“If it’s a poison potent enough for a dragon, it must be a rare commodity, but I wonder if the quantity would be sufficient.”

“That’s why we use spears. Even a small vial of poison—when applied to a spear, many can use it.”

Against large monsters, deploying siege weapons was standard, but the Great Forest imposed many restrictions.

Fighting high-level monsters was a contest of who killed whom first, and this time casualties would be heavy. But no one showed any sign of retreating.

“I don’t need any fancy poisons. I’ll finish it with a single blow using this ancestral sword.”

A knight owning a rather famous magic sword proudly displayed the blade as he spoke.

“Spirits are high, but we mustn’t be reckless against a dragon.”

An elderly knight, who had been wary of the overheated atmosphere, spoke admonishingly, but his counterpart wasn’t a fool.

“I’m not thinking of driving my blade into the dragon’s heart. But surely it’s not armored all the way down to its ankles, is it?”

The knight held his hand flat and made a slicing motion.

“One cut to the ankle—that’s all it takes.”

“Your dream’s a bit modest, isn’t it? A true knight should…”

“Hey! If that knight makes the dragon lame, we finish it off—wouldn’t that work out well for everyone? What’s the problem?”

“I won’t be satisfied with just an ankle. Didn’t you all hear about today’s battle? His Majesty’s knights shattered the underground troll’s knees with javelins.”

A knight flicked the dark spearhead with his fingernail, producing a clear ring. It was a spear made from precious meteoric iron.

“My spear will pierce the dragon’s knee, and all will witness it.”

“The one who brings the dragon to its knees…”

Knights who were skilled with spears stroked their chins, lost in blissful imagination. It was certainly a far more glamorous title than merely slashing an ankle.

The knights drank and discussed methods for attacking the dragon, each swept up in a thrilling sensation as if electric current coursed through their veins.

While the knights were drunk on glory, talking dragon hunts, Eugene couldn’t afford the same luxury. He studied the map and formulated a march plan.

“Those who can handle familiars will accompany His Majesty.”

Albi assigned some of the druids to Eugene’s army. They wielded higher-level familiar sorcery than witches—the perfect precaution against potential dragon attacks.

“Thank you. If the dragon goes on a rampage, we should be able to observe it from afar.”

“Never let your guard down. The forest is so vast that even with familiar assistance, finding it won’t be easy. Look at the Dark Forest alone—the trees here are enormous. Even if a dragon appears, there are plenty of places where it would be obscured.”

The Great Forest dwarfed the Shield Mountains south of Gord. It was so tall and dense that monsters vulnerable to sunlight, including underground trolls, could roam freely even during the day.

“I’m prepared for that. I’m not planning for a short-term decisive battle against the dragon either.”

“A wise attitude. A dragon is not merely a powerful monster. It’s closer to a kind of champion.”

“A champion of whom?”

“An agent chosen by nature itself.”

Eugene pondered for a moment before speaking.

“Is that an opinion rooted in druidic naturalism? Or a rational judgment from a mage who explores the arcane?”

“Both. But I weight the latter more heavily. A dragon is essentially the firstborn, inheriting all of nature’s progress and mystery.”

“The story that when civilization destroys nature too much, a dragon appears to deliver judgment—something like that?”

“That’s what those who weight the former tend to claim.”

Eugene smiled, and Albi laughed along.

‘What a fascinating man.’

He’d heard the king was the greatest of knights, but his image was far different from what he’d imagined. In conversation, he got along well with mages, summoners, even druids like themselves.

*

Eugene had slain numerous beings, from powerful monsters to divine entities. His subordinates’ praise of him as a “champion slayer” was no exaggeration.

This dragon subjugation also carried implicit expectations. That he would play a leading role, as befitted a courageous knight, and face the dragon head-on. But Eugene had other protagonists in mind.

“Assembly, begin!”

Hermann shouted, and Lantzheim warriors organized into six-man teams moved busily. They expertly assembled the parts each had carried, constructing field-specification ballistae.

“Complete!”

The first team to finish assembly stood at attention. It took about thirty-five seconds—an exceptionally fast time.

“Complete!”

The subsequent teams each took nearly a minute.

“Will this be useful at this pace? As if the dragon will wait around until then!”

Hermann pushed his men since the king was watching, but this was already elite-class speed.

Eugene couldn’t help but admire the Shadow Legion’s doctrine for deploying ballistae in the field.

In battles dominated by phalanx formations, mobile ballistae that could immediately breach even solid shield walls. That guaranteed the commander far more options.

‘God favors the army with the strongest artillery!’

As a soldier, Eugene deeply resonated with that famous saying, so he had accelerated development based on the captured ballistae. The result was the Vindicator ballista.

“No matter how strong the bow or crossbow, they can’t penetrate dragon hide. In this forest, you’re the only ones who can drive a dragon to death.”

The Lantzheim warrior corps struck their fists to their chests. All were resolved to make the dragon bleed.

“To face a dragon with weapons that require field assembly… I feel bad making such a harsh request.”

“Your Majesty. Please retract those words. This is the least we can do to repay your kindness. The small battles we’ve fought until now were far from enough.”

The other centurions agreed with Hermann.

“We overcame a pike push—what is there to fear?”

“Even if the dragon’s fangs and claws are sharp, they’re useless if they can’t reach us. The Vindicator’s range is far greater.”

“Bulk just means a bigger target. We’ll show this creature the sting of artillery.”

The Vindicator ballistae deployed in Eugene’s army had slightly less draw force than the originals used by the Shadow Legion.

In exchange, they were lighter and could be disassembled for transport, making them operational on any battlefield including forests. For Eugene, who valued adaptability, the Vindicator was naturally preferable.

“I trust you. I look forward to your continued service.”

“We will surely cripple the dragon and present its head to Your Majesty.”

Hermann spoke with burning eyes.

Their first meeting had been a transaction aimed at prisoner amnesty, but now things were different. All harbored a fierce desire to put down roots as residents of the Moving Castle. In terms of sheer tenacity, they surpassed even the knights who coveted the glory of slayer of dragons.

-Once we successfully complete this expedition, we’ll hang the dragon’s skull in the lobby! Then we can proudly hold our heads high as members of the Moving Castle.

Hermann had proclaimed this to his men before departure. They weren’t knights, but they were heads of households. A father’s desire to gift a better future to his wife and children easily surpassed even the fear a dragon inspired.

*

At that moment, the villages scattered throughout the Great Forest were holding a rare assembly. The dragon’s rampage and Ostir’s military deployment meant they couldn’t afford to hole up in their own villages.

News traveled slowly, so Eugene and Valda’s arrival wasn’t widely known yet. The faces of the chieftains gathered in the meeting hall were grim.

“What did I tell you? The dragon isn’t a simple monster. It’s a natural disaster with a will of its own. You can’t just wait for it to leave on its own.”

When word of the dragon’s emergence first reached them, each village had been frightened but not overly concerned. The Great Forest was vast, and a top predator like a dragon was practically a feast spread for them.

Monsters like orcs and goblins that lived in groups survived without palisades, and large monsters lounged lazily in the pride of “Who dares touch me?”

From the dragon’s perspective, it was a land of endless meat at every turn. That was why there had been a belief that it wouldn’t bother reaching all the way to human villages.

“An entire village was destroyed.”

But that was no longer the case. A dragon that infiltrated an elf village at night had devoured residents indiscriminately.

“How many survivors?”

“A handful. The dragon was one thing, but fleeing through the forest at night with virtually no preparation…”

Naturally, monsters sensing opportunity had swarmed in, doubling the casualties.

The dragon had rediscovered the delicate, flavorful taste of human flesh. With monsters no longer a concern, it was likely to actively target villages.

“Does everyone intend to join King Ostir?”

“What choice do we have? Even if he’s not to our liking, there’s no alternative right now.”

“This is why we should have engaged with the outside world like the Rhine Alliance. They can at least hire mercenaries, but we only have village warriors. We can’t respond effectively to true danger.”

“If it’s a dragon, what can mercenaries do? We’ve managed well so far, and we will continue to do so. Against a natural disaster like a dragon, anyone would be cornered.”

Isolationism was the elves’ specialty. Even in this crisis, apart from a minority of chieftains, most were contemplating self-reliant solutions.

“The Rhine Alliance might not care if they fall out of King Ostir’s favor, but we can’t afford that.”

“His followers would be the first to denounce us.”

The outer regions might be hard to control, but if even the inner villages turned against him, Ostir would never stand idly by.

“My village will join the Rhine Alliance.”

The centauress sub-chieftain who had been quietly listening spoke. Unable to sit due to her physical structure, she reclined sideways on a raised platform. This made her look rather regal.

“Are you certain? King Ostir watches your tribe more closely than any other.”

Despite their petite appearance, centauresses were known as powerful fighters of the forest.

When the centaurs who had chosen the plains declined miserably due to poor adaptability, these small-bodied warriors synergized with the forest terrain, thriving without restraint.

“My daughter has already departed with her warriors. If battle cannot be avoided, we’ll side with the stronger army.”

“The stronger army? The Rhine Alliance may have considerable power, but is it enough to rival King Ostir?”

“You’re out of date.”

The sub-chieftain flapped her retriever-like ears and smiled.

“The last bloodline of the true royal house has returned to the forest. With an army led by her, the mate who bears the Feanor title.”

“…!”

The destructive power contained in those brief words struck the chieftains harder than any news they had heard in their lives.

*

Eugene welcomed the centauress warriors at Camp Whiskey.

“Mighty King. I am Maya, sub-chieftain. I come bearing the will of my mother and village, seeking an audience with you.”

“Among the forest’s inhabitants, you’re the first to come to us of your own accord.”

Centauresses couldn’t kneel on one knee due to their physical structure. Instead, they struck their hooves together and assumed a still posture as their form of etiquette.

“…Why that expression?”

“No reason. Nothing at all. You are truly welcome.”

He never imagined he’d see this ceremonial form from his memories in a place like this. With two pairs of legs and stronger hooves than humans, their strikes carried tremendous force.

“This is Valda Philiamor. My consort and the legitimate heir to the royal house.”

“I wish the princess a path blessed with fortune.”

Maya treated Valda respectfully, but with a demeanor one step lower than how she addressed Eugene.

Bloodline meant little to centauresses. What captured their far greater interest was a king who possessed the military strength to face a dragon.

“I see. Just as the friends on the outer edges told me. If you can command this much steel, you can certainly stand against the dragon.”

Maya’s warriors looked satisfied with Eugene’s army stationed at Camp Whiskey.

Ostir’s elf army was certainly powerful, but their opponent was a dragon. The ballistae, knights, and summoners debating before their eyes were far more reassuring than the elves’ bows.

Above all, the greatest was Eugene himself. As it happened, he was also deliberating which weapon to use for the dragon subjugation.

“A hit from these would be devastating, even to a dragon.”

The wicked axe blade of Blackout.

The magnetic Great Mace.

Javelins scaled to match Eugene’s brute strength.

These were weapons capable of inflicting significant damage with each blow, even against a dragon.

What Eugene most wanted to use was naturally the lance. Against a dangerous foe like a dragon, it was the perfect counter weapon. But using it in the forest was nearly impossible.

Maya locked eyes with her warriors. After confirming their intent, she spoke to Eugene.

“We wish to fight as your vanguard. Please allow us to join.”

“I’m glad I can give you that assurance.”

“There are none who know this forest better than we do.”

With a third guide now changed, Eugene had secured the forest’s strongest allied force.

Eugene’s army, having completed their preparations, departed for the Dryad Village.

The bounding centauresses led the way, and their joining served as a catalyst for many villages to participate simultaneously.

Thus, the Great Forest divided into three forces.

Eugene’s army.

Ostir’s army.

And the dragon.

A war had begun in which only one of the three could survive.