Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer
Chapter 292 - 153. The Approaching Darkness
Translated by A Passing Wanderer
Edited by RED
**
Next morning, within the formation of Aslan troops stationed by the border...
"You think it's true?"
"What, you mean the story about vampires' involvement this time?"
"Right, that one. Don't you think something's really smelly here? A sudden coup d'etat, and... wasn't it Lord Damon who resolutely stayed by the side of our princess even after King Rahamma discarded her? But now, why would he...?"
Large-scale defensive barricades were hastily being constructed at the moment. Necromancers standing on top of the barricades' platform were sharing their suspicions of this event.
Orcs and ogres, who possessed far greater physical strength than humans, were responsible for stacking processed logs to build the barricades. As these monsters continued to build the defensive wall, the Necromancers watching them work couldn't help but share their misgivings.
Seriously now, just where did so many orc slaves come from? And it wasn't just the orcs, either. Goblins and ogres were in the mix as well!
Other than humans, the only other entities capable of raising these many monsters were vampires!
"Perhaps Lord Damon wasn't behind the rebellion, but Lord Rehton, instead...?"
"Oiii! You soldiers over there!"
The Necromancers flinched in surprise and raised their heads.
There, on top of the command tower doubling as a watch tower as well, was a nobleman in his mid-fifties. He loudly shouted at the Necromancers below, "If you have time to yap idly away, do more work, instead! Or will you be more obedient after your throats get ripped out first?!"
This man was around two metres tall and his whole frame was filled with rippling muscles. His name was Jeram. He was also one of the twelve feudal lords who had, along with Rehton, joined hands with Duke Duran.
Although Jeram spoke with much confidence and authority, inwardly he was not feeling the same. Deep inside, his heart was currently being rocked by the waves of fear.
[You must delay the advance of the Theocratic Empire, no matter what. At most, ten days! We should be finished negotiating with the vampires by then, and the army of blood should then be dispatched to Aslan soon. When that happens, you too will receive the glorious honour of becoming a new vampire yourself. If you wish to live forever in a new era, you must do as I say.]
Rehton had said those words to Jeram earlier.
Jeram shifted his gaze over to the Theocratic Empire's border wall some distance away. Talk was cheap in this case, that was certain; this very spot was where the Aslan army, over ten thousand strong, was completely obliterated by a single person only a handful of years ago.
That single person was none other than the Holy Emperor, Kelt Olfolse!
Jeram definitely did not want to experience that man's nonsensical and overwhelming might ever again.
'Even if it was me, there's no way I can fight against Holy Emperor Kelt by myself.'
Kelt was someone so absurdly strong that, despite fighting against not only King Rahamma but also the combined forces of the feudal lords all by himself, he didn't have to retreat even once.
No, the truth was that it was the Aslan forces that had to turn tail and run away from him instead!
So, how could Jeram stop someone like that by himself?
"Urgh, is eternal life that good, anyway?" Jeram could only groan under his breath.
At almost the same time, the large gateway in the border wall suddenly opened.
When those large doors began opening up left and right, Jeram involuntarily flinched and stumbled backwards. The images of Kelt from a few years ago popped up in his mind again, and the terror ingrained deep into his soul welled up in his chest.
Not just the Holy Emperor, either; the other side also had the Sword King, the Crown Imperial Prince, and even the Holy King as well! No one could predict just what kind of monsters would pop out from there.
As Jeram's tension soared, his eyes shot open wider after noticing a single Paladin riding on horseback, waving a yellow flag as he approached Aslan's camp.
"Lord Jeram, sir! That's a messenger! The yellow flag means that the Theocratic Empire requests a dialogue first! What will we do now, sir?"
Jeram heard the report while observing the incoming Paladin. He was breathing a sigh of relief inwardly. 'Well, that's fortunate.'
If the other party wished to engage in some kind of discussion, then that meant Jeram would get to waste even more time.
The Paladin eventually reached the foot of the hastily-erected defensive barricades. This knight was kitted out from head to toe in the Paladin armour, the shining metal engraved with many runes.
Judging from that, the knight must've been from an extraordinary background.
"Hmph, aren't you a gutsy fellow?" Jeram muttered to no one in particular.
At a casual glance, this knight seemed to be a scion of nobility, yet he came here to request a dialogue, without any escorts? Could it be that he was looking down on the might of Aslan?!
Jeram addressed the soldiers, "Open the defensive barricade's gate. I shall personally speak to that bastard."
The orcs opened the gates.
Jeram mounted his horse and rode out, while his escort of knights followed him. He stopped before the Paladin, held his head up high, and sat up tall and proud in the saddle. "What brings you here, oh the Paladin of the Theocratic Empire! If you want a dialogue, we can take it slowly and..."
"Hear me now, oh the people of Aslan-!"
Jeram and the escorting knights flinched in surprise and focused their attention on the Paladin even more.
His Spirit Speech-laden voice reverberated loudly in the vicinity of the barricades. "I advise you all to surrender immediately! I suggest that you take these defensive barricades down this instant, cast your weapons aside, and willingly become prisoners of war. But in case you disregard this suggestion, know this! The Theocratic Empire's army, personally commanded by the Holy King, will march into your lands-!"
Cold sweat trickled down Jeram's face. 'Did he say the Holy King?! Son of a b*tch!'
When this Paladin said the 'Holy King', did he mean Allen Olfolse? THAT Holy King? The monster who slaughtered hundreds of Aslan soldiers in the city of slaves, Evelyum, and even went on to kill King Rahamma afterwards?
Worst of all, that man was known to go around slaughtering vampires simply because that was his hobby. He was a known war fanatic, a lunatic who willingly sought out places where vampires were hiding.
Hell, he had even declared war against vampires not too long ago!
Against the Holy King, this sort of shabby little defensive barricade wouldn't even last two days!
"...We will not surrender. However, we're willing to negotiate," said Jeram.
"There are no negotiations. You will simply surrender now." The Paladin was unwavering.
Jeram sneaked a glance at the escorting knights behind him.
He was a member of Aslan's twelve feudal lords. At the very least, he needed to put up a dignified presence in front of an enemy.
So, he unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the Paladin. "You dare to spew such nonsense! This is Aslan! We have been waging war with you bastards for thousands of years, yet you want us to bow our heads to you?! What a truly unfunny joke that is!"
When Jeram roared that out, sounds of laughter could be heard coming from above the defensive barricades. Even the orcs, goblins, and ogres were chuckling away.
As the jeering laughter continued, the Paladin's head began cocking to the side. "So, is that your answer, then?"
"That's right! Very well, why don't I behead you right here, right now, and throw your lifeless head over the border wall? Allow me to give you an opportunity to wallow in regret, and blame the Holy King for sending you here today! Ahahaha!"
"Well, don't say I didn't give you a chance, dear Mister Jeram."
"Ahaha! ...Eh?" Jeram began tilting his head in confusion.
Did this Paladin say 'I' just now? Besides all that, he had also called Jeram by name, too.
But, how could this bastard know his name...?
Just as Jeram's head tilting intensified some more...
Ripples of divinity viciously pulsed out from the Paladin's position. Right below the hooves of the horse he was riding, waves made purely out of holy water spread out rapidly.
Jeram's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, then he hurriedly yanked on the reins of his own horse to send it stumbling back. Even the escorting knights fell into an unbridled panic and started freaking out.
The holy water rushed towards them like tidal waves; their surroundings were deeply flooded in an instant. The water even gushed past the open gateway of the barricades and rapidly spread beyond them, as well.
"In the name of Allen Olfolse the Holy King, I..." the Paladin slowly removed his helm.
Jeram's jaw matched the Paladin's movement speed and slowly fell as well, sheer terror shaking his eyes.
"...I shall judge you all today." The Paladin took out the skull of Amon.
Jeram inwardly screamed, 'Holy sh*t! It's the Holy King, Allen Olfolse...!'
A deathly chill ran down his spine. He hurriedly pulled the reins of his horse and turned it around, but it was too late by then.
Hands of bone shooting out from the lake of holy water quickly grabbed onto the hind legs of his horse. Jeram's mount reared in shock and threw him from the saddle.
He crashed straight into the pool of holy water below helplessly.
He came in contact with the holy water, and the hands made out of bones rising from the lake's surface grabbed onto Jeram next.
"U-uwaaahk?! R-release me, this instant!"
He hurriedly roused his demonic energy, but that only invited a rather horrifying result: the adverse reaction when demonic energy and divinity collided.
His demonic energy touched the holy water's divinity and exploded loudly. Jeram's body was flung away violently, and he crashed into the defensive barricade.
"Keu-aaahk...!" He vomited out a mouthful of blood and stared at the Holy King with trembling eyes. "W-what are you all doing, he's all alone! Hurry, close the barricade and kill...!"
Jeram's roars were met with the Holy King's retort, "Alone, you say? My bad, but I'm not alone."
Jeram froze. He hurriedly turned his head towards the Holy King once more.
The Theocratic Empire's Holy King was spreading his arms wide. "You see, I am the legion."
Almost at the same time, all sorts of undead began crawling out from the lake of holy water spread all around him. No, make that the sea of holy water, instead!
From centaur-like cavalry to skeleton soldiers boasting four arms, a Bone Wyvern, and even a monster resembling a centipede with its spine connected to its feeler-like bones...
This was a legion of monsters several thousand strong!
The Holy King's eyes burned eerily within the sockets of the mountain goat's skull as he stood proudly amid this horde of monsters.
He declared to them all, "Remember this: you brought this upon yourself, oh foolish lord of Aslan."
< 153. The Approaching Darkness -3 (Part One and Two) > Fin.
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