Ch.595Golden Plains

There are many kinds of burning smells.

The acrid smell of gunpowder. The bitter, harsh smell of cheap tobacco. The appetite-stimulating smell of grilling meat. The nauseating, musty smell of an incinerator. Even the subtle minty scent emanating from Mana Herb.

Though we lump them together as “burning smells,” what’s burning makes all the difference.

“GYAAAAAAAH!”

The smell of grilling squid wafts past my nose. The breeze feels sticky, perhaps mixed with fat melting in the heat. I take a couple of steps back and light up some mint to cover the fishy burning smell.

Before my eyes was hell itself.

“It’s hot! Fire! Please! Please, water!”

“GYAAAAAAAH!”

“My body, my body is melting!”

Humanoid figures dance in the flames before melting away. Even those not directly touched by fire collapse in a huddle, coughing up black smoke from their scorched lungs, unable to withstand the heat.

Even warriors known for their ferocity and courage could only roll on the ground screaming and wailing, not daring to draw their swords. Though even if they had, the blades would have quickly melted into liquid metal.

‘Burns well. This brings back memories…’

I smile at the familiar feeling and wipe away the sweat trickling between the folds of my hood.

In the dead of night without a moon, crimson flames writhe like dancing snakes, sending ashes into the clouds. Through the heat-distorted haze, the warriors’ encampment was turning to ashes, using wood, cloth, and corpses as fuel.

[Are you referring to when we burned Amin’s encampment? I still remember how he begged us to spare his eyes. It was truly delightful.]

The tone was full of satisfaction and joy, like an old man reminiscing about his youth.

Well, it felt similar when fighting Amin too. But the memories I recalled were from much earlier times.

Memories from when I still had all three legs intact. Even in an era of bullets and artillery fire, flames were an effective weapon.

Though the scale of destruction was different, cities engulfed in napalm bombings looked exactly like this.

‘Seems like everything’s burned. Should I put it out now? Where was the next encampment again?’

[Northeast from here, about half a day’s ride on horseback.]

‘That’s close. They might have seen the flames from there.’

I extinguished the Karma fire and gazed at the melted encampment. The ground was bubbling and spewing forth air pockets, while crimson embers flickered on the ashen remains where shapes were barely recognizable.

– Whoosh!

Having burned for quite some time, the fire didn’t completely die out even after the Karma flames disappeared. Natural flames born from the intense heat remained, no longer fueled by mana or Karma.

‘Fire is more convenient, but Hagalaz is much cleaner for cleanup. Do I need to put that out before I leave?’

[There doesn’t seem to be anything left to burn, so won’t it just go out on its own?]

That’s true. After all, I burned everything down to the last blade of grass, so these remaining embers shouldn’t last long.

It was quite a pathetic end for an encampment that had housed hundreds of troops. Without a proper battle, they were completely annihilated in an instant when I approached under cover of darkness and ignited the Karma flames.

I did consume quite a bit of Murder Karma, but it was only enough to require about two days of rest to recover.

‘Don’t you think this world is better than the Field of Mortality?’

[Don’t talk nonsense. The firepower is decent, but if they hadn’t been careless, about half could have escaped before burning. Even now…]

– CRACK!

A noise erupting from beneath my feet cuts off Hersella’s words. The ground surges up like a mine explosion. Soil and weeds shoot up like a fountain.

“Cursed sorcerer!”

With a fierce cry, a warrior springs from underground and thrusts a spear at me. He was the source of the presence I’d felt, having burrowed underground like a mole as soon as he saw the flames.

Unable to withstand the heat, his hair was completely gone, and his skin was burned black and peeling in places, but… I suppose he deserved the title of Champion. Despite everything, he was still breathing.

Not that it mattered.

“You can still move in that condition? Impressive.”

I grabbed his spear blade with my left hand and smirked. It might have been a desperate surprise attack from his perspective, but unfortunately, the vibrations through the ground and the Champion’s distinctive aura had already given him away.

“That voice, those blue eyes…! You, could it be…!!”

Finally recognizing me, the mole-like Champion let out a cry of shock. Well, Orhan’s Champion wouldn’t fail to recognize me at this close distance.

“Yes, it’s Haschal~ I don’t know who you are since your face is burned off, but anyway, long time no see?”

“Traitor!”

When I waved my right hand slightly in greeting, he gritted his teeth through his burned cheeks, released the spear, and swung the curved blade at his waist.

Abandoning the captured spear instead of fixating on it showed commendable battle sense, but this too was ultimately meaningless.

“Too slow.”

I rotated the spear in my left hand half a turn and struck down the Champion’s sword vertically. It was an almost playful attack full of openings, but my casual strike was much faster than his desperate slash.

– CRASH!

Like lightning striking the ground, the extended spear tip pierced and shattered the side of the curved blade. Broken metal fragments embedded themselves in his forehead, like a bent horn suddenly sprouting.

Somehow it didn’t reach his brain, as the Champion screamed instead of dying.

“AAAAARGH!”

“Hey, you’ve got a horn now! A horn! With that black face and sharp horn, you could pass for a demon!”

I kicked his momentarily defenseless legs, breaking them, then stomped on the chest of the now crippled Champion as I bent down.

“Kugh…! How dare a traitor… how dare you set foot on the steppe again…?”

Even in his agony, the Champion glared at me with eyes full of hatred.

“Traitor? I’ve been nothing but loyal my entire life, never once betraying my allies. I just chose a different direction than you.”

If asked whether I prefer mom or dad, is it wrong to choose mom without hesitation? Well, neither of them are my parents, but still.

Of course, this was an infuriating joke from the Champion’s perspective, and he spewed curses with enough force to cough blood.

“Shameless whore’s spawn…! The Ka’har… the Ka’har will tear you to shreds!”

“Ka’har…? Oh, you mean Orhan.”

Ka’har, is it? Self-proclaiming as Emperor of the Steppe means he successfully unified the plains as expected.

“Our father has done well for himself. As his child, I can only offer my congratulations.”

I flicked my cigarette and joked. It would have been so much easier if he had failed and died.

[Congratulations? What an unpleasant joke. You’re neither his daughter nor anything else to begin with.]

Hersella grumbled inside my head.

Even though she knew it was a joke, her mood seemed soured by the insults like “whore” and “spawn” that were thrown at me.

‘You know what they say about children born of the heart? Something like that.’

[Stop talking nonsense.]

After I casually spouted whatever came to mind, Hersella chuckled despite herself. Though her tone remained harsh.

I smiled back at her.

– CRACK!

Ah.

“Kugh…! Ha…schal…!”

Did I unconsciously put strength into my foot while smiling? The Champion, with all his ribs broken, coughed up sticky blood while calling my name with hatred.

Of course, nothing changed because of it. He could only move his mouth, unable to properly move his body.

Both legs were gone, his right arm was broken with bone fragments protruding, but his left arm could still move if he wanted to resist…

Whether his previous attack had squeezed out his last strength, or because all his ribs were shattered, he couldn’t even clench his fist, let alone swing his left arm.

Seeing his unfocused eyes, it was clear he would stop breathing within a minute if left alone.

“Ha…schal…!”

“Calling my name so desperately, we must have been close?”

Looking down at the trembling Champion who had become a horned mole roast, I playfully tapped the metal fragment embedded in his forehead.

“Gaaah!”

He screamed and convulsed each time my fingertips touched the blade. I wonder if it felt like a mad scientist applying electric shocks to his brain?

“If you told me your name, I might remember you. Why don’t you?”

Hersella probably knows the Champion’s name.

“Kugh, khuh. Who… would tell someone like you…!”

The Champion gasped but spat curses instead of answering.

Seems he has no intention of telling me his name.

I wasn’t disappointed. I didn’t particularly care anyway.

If he were a healthy Champion, maybe, but what use would I have for the name of someone already crossing the river to the afterlife?

“Oh, really? Then just die.”

Without hesitation, I pressed firmly on his forehead, pushing the metal fragment through his skull until it protruded from the back of his head.

“Kuk!”

With a single cry, the Champion’s eyes rolled back.

—-

After throwing the Champion’s corpse into the fire pit, I left the burned encampment. If I lingered too long, pursuit teams would follow.

While my role was to draw the attention of the Ka’har main forces, getting caught too early would be problematic.

They said the special detachment needed one more day before deployment.