Karnak, Monarch of Death

In the western part of the Grental territory lay Gallant Mountain, one of the branches of the Baracant Mountain Range.

Its rugged terrain and frequent monster appearances made it a place where humans rarely ventured beyond the established trade routes. Even the most daring hunters and hardened loggers avoided setting foot in these treacherous peaks. Yet, five individuals were making their way through the perilous mountain trails.

Among them were a dark-haired young man in a mage’s robe, a priest in his twenties clad in ceremonial garb, a pair of knights, male and female, in full plate armor, and a gray-haired young girl in light armor with a longsword strapped to her waist. This heavily armed group was Karnak and his companions. This time, they had brought Lapicel along as well.

As they walked, Alius leaned toward Serati and whispered, ”Are you sure this is a good idea?”

This mission was no mere journey. They were pursuing an imperial noble suspected of heresy. It was definitely a dangerous task with unpredictable challenges. Until now, Lapicel had always been kept away from any battles. For some reason, however, Karnak had decided to include her this time.

”Isn’t this too dangerous for someone so young?” Alius pressed.

Serati responded calmly, ”Lapicel is my apprentice. Someone walking the path of a warrior cannot stay in safe places forever.”

Despite her reassurance, Alius’s expression remained troubled. ”I understand that, but...”

Raising an apprentice was the mentor’s prerogative, and outsiders had no right to interfere. Knights often brought their squires along on missions, so technically, there was nothing improper about this decision. Yes, there was no issue in principle, but...

Hasn’t it been less than two months since she became your apprentice? How much swordsmanship could she possibly have learned in that time?

It wasn’t just concern for Lapicel’s safety. What if her inexperience became a liability and put the entire group in danger?

Serati’s response to such doubts was firm. ”Her life and death are her own, and as her mentor, it is my responsibility to ensure. You don’t need to worry about it, Alius.”

“I understand.”

If this mission had been under Alius’s command, he wouldn’t have allowed it. But this was Karnak’s operation. Officially, Karnak and his companions were assisting Alius, but in reality, Alius was cooperating with a mission led by the King’s Order. If Karnak had approved Lapicel’s inclusion, Alius had little choice but to trust his judgment.

Well, Sir Serati isn’t the type to be irresponsible, he reasoned, finally letting go of his concerns.

Turning his attention back to the path ahead, Alius surveyed the terrain. The vast mountain expanse, steep valleys, and beautiful forests stretched endlessly before them. The scenery, at least, was breathtaking.

”So...,” Alius said, glancing back at the group to confirm, ”there’s a good chance the cultists are hiding somewhere around here, correct?”

***

The sense of unease Karnak felt while surveying the Grental territory was rooted in this observation.

”It’s too peaceful.”

At first glance, peace in a territory seemed like a good thing. But upon closer thought, it became apparent how unnatural it was.

”Why is it so peaceful?”

Karnak’s own domain, the Zestrad Barony, bordered the monster-infested region of Chaotic North, near the Zeden Mountain Range. Under the previous baron’s rule, monster attacks were so frequent that the common folk suffered constant losses.

It wasn’t until Karnak discovered a copper mine and grew wealthy that things began to improve. With better funding, he could enhance the quality of the knights’ and soldiers’ equipment, making monster hunts significantly easier. As a result, his people finally began to enjoy a measure of peace. The situation in the Grental territory was similar.

Due to its proximity to Gallant Mountain, a branch of the Baracant Mountain Range, monsters frequently descended into the area, causing significant damage. But the attacks had ceased since Count Hudel became lord of the territory. It was said that Hudel’s exceptional governance brought peace to his people.

“Which is strange,” Karnak remarked.

No missing persons? That was plausible. A well-governed estate could maintain such order.

No unexplained deaths? That, too, made sense. It was a matter of maintaining public safety.

But what about the monsters?

All the commoners agreed on one thing. Since Hudel took charge, there had been no monster attacks in the Grental territory.

”How does one govern a territory so well that monsters stop attacking? Did this competent lord somehow negotiate with them?”

If Hudel had simply prepared thoroughly and successfully repelled the monsters, it would have been a testament to his skill as a leader.

But to make monsters not attack at all? That wasn’t a matter of competence—it was something else entirely.

”And one of a necromancer’s specialties is controlling monsters,” Karnak added.

Of course, this was mere speculation at the moment, with no concrete evidence to support it. There wasn’t enough to accuse Hudel of colluding with cultists.

”But it’s worth investigating,” Karnak concluded.

Even if their hunch was wrong, they would only waste a few days. They wouldn’t be incurring any significant loss. But if there truly were cultists hiding in the territory?

”They might have some very useful information to share.”

***

After another half-day of travel, the group had ventured deep into Gallant Mountain.

As they surveyed the dense forest around them, Alius muttered, ”We’ll need to find the monsters’ nesting grounds.”

The plan was to locate the nests, eliminate the monsters, and search for traces of death energy. If there was a connection between the monsters and necromancers, they would undoubtedly leave some evidence behind.

Karnak, however, voiced a dissenting opinion. ”Won’t that take too long?”

The rugged terrain of the forest made it difficult to locate monster nests. There were spells, such as the Observer spell, which sent out magical surveillance orbs, but even aerial reconnaissance was of little use. Monsters didn’t construct recognizable buildings, so their nests blended seamlessly into the natural environment until inspected up close.

”My idea is to lure the monsters to us instead,” Karnak suggested.

One method of monster hunting involved disguising oneself as an unarmed traveler or woodcutter to bait the creatures out.

Alius shook his head. ”That would take just as long.”

Monsters didn’t attack the moment humans entered their territory. If it were that easy, monster hunting wouldn’t be such a challenge. When large groups of humans, like an army, ventured into their domain, monsters often hid and stayed silent.

Yet they didn’t automatically underestimate smaller groups of humans either. When people entered their territory, monsters would first observe them. Only when they determined that they could successfully hunt their prey would they seize the opportunity to strike.

People often imagined monsters as mindless beasts that rampaged wildly, but in truth, they were more cautious than most wild animals. To be precise, the reckless ones had long since died out, leaving only the cautious ones to survive.

”If we wait for them to attack, it could take three or four days,” Alius pointed out.

”It won’t take that long,” Karnak said with a confident smile.

”We’ve got a very good bait.”

***

According to the teachings of the seven goddesses church, the world was created under the breath of the seven goddesses. They bestowed dominion over this realm to three special races: dragons, humans, and fairies.

However, the forces of darkness invaded this world, corrupting its beauty and creating vile beings that defiled the goddesses’ creation. These creatures came to be known as monsters.

In a shadowed forest nestled deep within a mountain gorge stood several crude huts, so primitive in design that they could hardly be called homes. These were the nests of stone orcs residing in Gallant Mountain.

Monsters, servants of darkness, were generally classified into three types: humanoid, beastoids, and abominable. Stone orcs were part of the humanoid monsters. While shorter than humans, they were bulkier. Humans were often likened to apes stripped of their fur, but in truth, the stone orcs bore a closer, more grotesque resemblance to hairless primates.

From the other side of the forest, an orc came running toward the nest, letting out a sharp cry. ”Kaaah!”

Roughly translated, it meant, Humans!

A massive orc with gray, ridged skin responded with a guttural roar. ”Kraaah!”

This roughly translated to, ”Quiet down and report properly!”

After silencing the messenger, the stone orc chieftain fell into deep thought. Human tools and belongings were extremely useful, which was why the stone orcs frequently raided human settlements. But they hadn’t been able to do so recently.

The reason? A figure they referred to as the Terrifying One had forbidden it. But now humans had appeared in the mountains. Was it permissible to attack them? It seemed like it might be.

The Terrifying One’s prohibition only applied to raiding human settlements. They hadn’t been explicitly told not to attack humans who wandered into the mountains.

Still, it was risky to let their guard down. Humans could sometimes produce monsters of their own, individuals capable of cutting down dozens of orcs singlehandedly. Those humans wielded swords that gleamed with deadly light, hurled fire from their hands, or chanted to the heavens and summoned bolts of lightning. Such dangers required extreme caution whenever humans were spotted in their territory.

The chieftain bellowed a question. ”Kraaah!”

It meant, ”What kind of humans are they?”

The messenger orc responded with another shout. “Kaaah!”

The answer was: ”Just a small girl.” But the messenger added that she was wearing plenty of valuable human gear. The stone orcs’ eyes gleamed with greed.

Young humans were weak, and young human girls were even weaker. And human-made clothes, armor, and swords were treasures coveted by all orcs. It seemed fortune had smiled upon them today.

“Kaka!”

”Kraaah!”

The stone orcs began to move in unison. Even though their target was just a single young girl, they charged en masse. It was not out of fear of her, but to ensure there was no dispute over ownership of her belongings.

”Kaaah!” one of the orcs cried, effectively shouting, ”Whoever strikes first gets to keep the loot!”

But the chieftain’s roar immediately drowned it out. ”Kraaaah!”

This translated to: ”Anyone who strikes before me dies!”

***

Deep within the forests of Gallant Mountain, a young girl walked through the barren winter trees. She carried an impressive-looking longsword at her waist and wore sleek, polished light armor that enhanced her striking appearance.

The stone orcs observed her intently from behind rocks. Soon, they relaxed. Fully grown humans were dangerous and required caution. Adult men or women were sometimes strong enough to wipe out an entire orc pack singlehandedly.

Even an unarmed person or a woodcutter with just an axe couldn’t be underestimated. But this human girl? She was no taller than a goblin, still far from reaching adulthood. Someone so young couldn’t possibly be strong, no matter how fine her sword or armor looked.

The orcs leaped out at her without hesitation.

”Kraaaaaah!”

Dozens of them charged at the girl, encircling her in an instant. There was no preamble. There were no threats, no demands, no introductions. Unlike human bandits, who often used intimidation to avoid unnecessary fights while achieving their goals, monsters thrived on bloodshed. For them, the act of spilling human blood was the ultimate pleasure, not something to be avoided.

The lead orc, its crude club raised high, bellowed, ”Kakakaka!”

Roughly translated, it meant, ”This one’s mine!”

And that became its final words. With a flash, light glinted off the girl’s blade, and the orc’s head spun three times in the air. A spiral of blood painted an elegant arc before splattering onto the ground in wet, crimson droplets. The remaining orcs froze in place.

“Keck?”

”Kaah?”

What they saw defied all logic. The neck bones of a stone orc were far tougher than those of humans. They weren’t something that could be severed so easily. Moreover, their chieftain towered at least two heads taller than the girl. Even if she swung her sword with all her might, she shouldn’t have been able to reach it.

But the moment she drew her blade, she had leapt into the air and met the orc’s eye level. With a lightning-fast strike, she had cleanly decapitated the chieftain in one blow.

“Kakaka!”

”Kraaaah!”

The orcs stumbled back, shouting in panic. Their cries translated to something like, ”Young human girls are supposed to be weak!” and ”So why is she strong?!”

With a graceful flick of her sword, the gray-haired girl shook off the blood staining its blade. Then she shouted, her voice ringing with triumph, ”Sir Karnak, they’ve taken the bait!”