MTWW 157

CHAPTER 157………………………………….

The Eastern Army

The desert of Saharam, which could be considered the boundary between the continent and the East.

A single army was crossing over the golden sand dunes.

“I’ve spent my whole life in the East… but to think I’d see such a sight…”
“I’m sure we all feel the same way.”

Two people rode at the front.

Hashim, a member of the Raven and the shadow of the lion in the East.

And Zahkt, who had been taken in, raised in a bandit group, and now served as Nasradin’s captain of the guard.

The two watched in awe as thousands of troops crossed the desert.

“In the history of the East, there’s never been so many tribes united as one.”
“Yes… that’s true…”

“Now… you’re not crying, are you? Hey, Master, how can you do this? The war hasn’t even started yet.”
“Would you rather die before the war even begins?”

“…Can’t even joke?”

Zahkt turned his horse to avoid Hashim’s sharp gaze.

Behind them, away from the marching troops, was a large movable canopy resembling a tent, drifting along.

White, blue, and sky-blue long fabrics were spread out like clouds, forming shade.

A hundred men carried dozens of pillars to construct this shelter.

Zahkt moved past the men into its center.

“I’ve come to check if you’re comfortable, Lady Grandmother.”
“I’m fine. But it seems the priestess is a bit uncomfortable.”

A survivor of the Karaime tribe who had saved countless slaves in the East.

The godmother of Zahab, Samara.

She giggled playfully and glanced at the girl riding a Bactrian camel behind her.

“D-Do you think this is comfortable?!”

Naira, the priestess of the Karaime tribe, flushed her tanned face and squealed.

“We could just go! And if shade is needed! We could make it smaller! Why make so many people suffer like this, Grandmother?!”
“The priestess is quite bashful.”
“It’s not about being bashful…! Ugh!”

“Better stop teasing her.”
“Yes. But from how she’s shouting, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable. Thank you, Captain of the Guard.”

“It’s nothing. Then please follow comfortably.”

Zahkt turned his horse and galloped back to the front of the column.

Watching him disappear in the distance, Naira pouted and said in a sulky voice:

“Unni! Is there really a reason for all this?!”
“Of course.”

Samara smiled faintly.

“Who do you think is uniting the tribes crossing the desert?”
“Who else? Because of Prince Leonis. Everyone wants to make him emperor and bring prosperity to the East…”

“You.”

Samara cut Naira off mid-sentence.

Naira blinked dumbly.

“…Huh?”
“No tribe in the East would cross the Saharam desert risking their lives just for a prince. The focal point uniting these tribes is you.”

“Uh… h-huh? B-but…!”
“Many Eastern tribes fight for profit, but no one touches the Karaime tribe. Not simply because we make rain with the priestess.”

Samara’s voice was serious, yet her lips held a bright smile.

“Just as the thirsty gather at an oasis, the Eastern tribes need a role to bring them together. This tradition has been passed down long before you or I were born. Only we can unite the Eastern tribes. And the priestess… you are our foundation.”

The Karaime tribe performed rain-making rituals using dancers and musicians, but the core was always the priestess.

Only the girl with the strongest mana sensitivity in the tribe could call the rain.

This ritual was not merely ceremonial.

It was a prolonged combination of wind and prayers, forming a miracle drop by drop.

It was a great magic.

“The reason they help the Second Prince is that he saved you. You and our tribe. That was equivalent to saving the entire East. They are not fools—they know this canopy isn’t efficient.”

Holding Naira’s small, delicate hand, she continued:

“Yet despite that, the fact they make such a massive shade shows how important you are.”

“….”

“So from now on, I want you to understand that you are the center of the East, and accept it. Then everyone will be able to give more effort.”
“…It feels heavy.”

Naira smiled faintly, a little embarrassed.

Suddenly, her shoulders felt heavy.

The weight was as heavy as that borne by those holding the canopy.

“Still… I’ll try.”

Yet the priestess decided willingly to shoulder this weight for them, for the East, just as the men willingly supported the shade for her.

“Excellent.”

Behind them, a composed middle-aged man approached with a smile.

“With the priestess having such determination, the future of the East looks brighter than ever.”
“I’ll try my best, Uncle Nazif.”

Nazif, formerly chief appraiser at the auction run by the Sharna guild, and now the de facto operator of the free auction city Karzeha.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that all the funds moving this army came from Nazif.

Before the empire controlled the central regions, the Karzeha auction remained active, allowing him to accumulate sufficient war funds.

He was effectively investing that money in Leonis, or more accurately, in Esric.

“Take this.”

Nazif handed the two women a thick blanket.

“We already have enough blankets.”
“Even though the desert nights aren’t as cold as the North, you’ll need it soon.”

“The North is that cold? It’s still autumn, isn’t it?”
“Trust me. It’s already early winter there.”

“If you say so….”
“Thank you, Nazif.”
“You’re welcome.”

After handing the blankets, Nazif bowed slightly and returned to the supplies in the rear.

A dozen wagons followed, mostly carrying food.

Just transporting the Eastern people here to the North would consume more than half of it.

If supplies ran out in the North, the war couldn’t even start, let alone succeed.

But…

…That wouldn’t happen.

Nazif chuckled thinking of Esric.

From the first meeting at the auction, to sweeping the gladiator arena’s money and using magic to deal with Ishara, the owner…

Esric was not someone who would let supplies run out.

According to reliable informants, Prince Leonis was also clever with numbers.

Considering Icecrown had long been the northern royal seat, it was likely they had already secured sufficient supplies for war.

Nothing was certain—it was merely a hypothesis—but Nazif knew well that without taking risks, one gains nothing.

“Heh heh.”

Moreover…

“If they were starving, they wouldn’t ask for something like this.”

He glanced at the heavy item carefully packed in his satchel and smirked.

“I’m curious what he plans to do.”

With a boyish excitement, he crossed over the golden sand dunes.

The north wind blows.

Winter hasn’t arrived yet, but sharp snowflakes swirl around here.

Yet inside the walls of Icecrown, almost no snow penetrates.

The four spires of the walls emit mana through engravings inside and out, forming an invisible transparent barrier.

“I know that.”

Sirina replied indifferently.

“I’m curious how you modify the engravings.”
“It’s not that difficult.”

I traced the outer wall of the spire with my hand.

She tilted her head.

“Aren’t engravings permanent once made?”
“That’s true. But it’s possible to carve new ones.”

“Is… that possible?”
“It is.”

I could understand why Sirina thought it impossible.

In this world, engraving marks on the body had long been the norm.

“I said the original engraving isn’t meant for the body.”
“Mm.”

“This is the correct way to use an engraving.”

I tapped the spire’s wall.

“Mana can inhabit anything. The reason we use mana stones in artifacts is that they simply hold more mana. If the medium itself is large enough…”
“…It doesn’t have to be a mana stone!”
“Exactly.”

Of course, if it weren’t a mana stone, it wouldn’t easily contain mana even with engravings.

“It’s not a mana-friendly medium. That’s why it’s long, complex, but very precise…”

I traced the engraving on the outer wall with my finger, following the magic formulas and spells.

“We carve the magic into it.”
“I get it.”
“…Even if only you two know.”

Hagen, standing behind Sirina, sighed.

Unlike Sirina’s sparkling eyes, his were devoid of light.

“No one else can follow.”

He said irritably, pointing to dozens of boys and girls behind him.

They had just succeeded in creating a circle themselves.

“Can’t follow? Don’t understand?”

Sirina looked at Hagen and them, incredulous.

“…Why?”