Ch.824Daughter of the Plains

News of a new kingdom established in the eastern part of the Empire spread throughout the world, along with word that its leader was the Saint of Astraea who had proven herself the strongest warrior of the age through the bloody battle of the Sky Mountains.

“She swept away the pointy-eared bastards and winged lizards like pieces of meat? Now that’s an impressive tall one! Though I don’t like that she’s descended from the Twelve Butchers!”

The news reached even the Republic of Dwarves, who were focusing all their efforts on exterminating the underground rodent monster legion invading their territory after making a truce with Alvheim.

“The name Haschal… I’ve heard it before. Was she the human who annihilated the subordinates I dispatched and exterminated the reincarnated dragon?”

“Yes, Heavenly Horse Lord. She’s the very woman who killed Beherikes and executed Makaoros.”

“Lack of caution has always been their longstanding flaw. I ordered them to be careful, but they wouldn’t listen, and ultimately paid the price with their lives.”

The news also reached Persiella’s Heavenly Horse Palace, which was expanding its influence by subjugating the dark factions of the Dragonic Kingdom one by one.

“The Winter Wolf, the assassin of King Rurik, has broken away from the Empire? Now that’s… interesting news… I’d like to hear the details.”

It also reached Oleg, who had risen to the throne of Baryachrus after growing by defeating and devouring countless competitors, surpassing even the realm of Champion.

“Crouching at the eastern edge… I can’t even send assassins there.”

“But we can’t just leave her alone either. If she somehow gains power comparable to monsters like Carlos the Great or my ancestors…”

“It would be impossible until the blessing of the World Tree strengthens further.”

The news also reached Alvheim, which had fallen silent to recover its lost forces after losing seven guardians in a single day.

And,

“The monster ‘Abha Gisaka’ who defeated Kagan Orhan has coiled around the wall…?”

The news spread quickly to the eastern steppes, which had begun to fragment again after the death of Aishan-Gioro Orhan, the Kagan who had briefly unified the great plains of the Ka’har.

“I heard she established a gurun (country) and calls herself Khan. Became the divine woman of their shamans… what do they call them… mugok? There are also rumors that she defeated a dragon.”

During the lifetimes of Ludwig and Orhan, information from the west rarely spread to the east…

But after both men died on the same day, the chaotic situation made information control difficult, allowing even the Ka’har to easily obtain information about the Empire.

Thus, news that Haschal had taken Landenburg and established the Kingdom of Hestella as its queen spread quickly beyond the great plains.

“Shouldn’t we prepare? If she crosses the wall to attack, I doubt Targiyan or Sahakal could stop her…”

And quite naturally, this posed a significant threat to the Ka’har of the great plains.

Aishan-Gioro Haschal.

A transcendent warrior who brought death to the indestructible Orhan, a great sorceress who could fly through the sky, breathe fire, and destroy castles.

After the devastating defeat in the last great war, the steppe people began calling her Abha Gisaka, the incarnation of fate-defiance from ancient legends.

Abha Gisaka.

The Sky Slayer.

The Heavenly Horse.

With such a being establishing a new country right next to them, the Ka’har couldn’t help but worry that her intention might be to burn the entire great plains to ashes.

Especially to Orhan’s blood relatives, who had direct enmity with her, the country of Hestella was seen as an advance base to achieve revenge for Imelia.

While Ludwig had merely checked and defended against the Ka’har to prevent them from eyeing the Empire, now that Haschal had become the master of the wall, such lukewarm confrontation wouldn’t last long.

Haschal will come.

This was the common perception of Targiyan and Sahakal, their maternal relatives, and all their subordinates—an unavoidable death sentence.

‘I must kill her. That Feilandria bastard only speaks pretty words, with no intention of helping me or stopping that woman. Relying on such a person would only make me a sacrificial lamb for his plans.’

The 3rd Apostle, ■■■■, once again resolved to kill Haschal before being killed by her.

There was no hesitation. After failing to persuade the 8th Apostle Ragnar to kill Haschal, the trust relationship between her and Feilandria had long been broken.

From the 3rd Apostle’s perspective, Feilandria seemed to have no intention of harming her from the beginning.

Despite knowing well the bad blood between the 3rd Apostle and Haschal. Therefore, the 3rd Apostle felt no remorse in directly opposing Feilandria’s claims.

By merely allowing Haschal to grow, Feilandria had already betrayed the 3rd Apostle, in her mind.

‘A frontal attack would be certain defeat. Then I must prepare a trap and lure her in…’

The 3rd Apostle began preparing a trap to capture or kill Haschal, recalling all the sorcery formulas she knew.

And.

—-

“Haa… haa…”

On the wilderness of the great plains that had lost its ruler. A cavalry soldier with an urgent expression galloped desperately across the land swept by the flames of the last war.

A light cavalry soldier wearing fur over a cotton garment. Two black braids tied behind fluttered like a loach swimming against the current.

Perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old at most. The young, sharp, and neurotic face was twisted with urgency and hostility.

“She’s nearby! Chase her!”

“Our lord ordered not to kill her! You understand what that means?”

“Once we catch her, it doesn’t matter what we do!”

Fierce and frivolous voices echoed from all directions. The sound of hoofbeats spread like beating leather drums. The pursuers were approaching.

“Vulgar creatures…!”

The voices of the warriors grew closer, filled with lecherous and filthy desires. The girl frowned and muttered a curse under her breath.

Until just a few days ago, anyone who spoke to her like that would have had their tongue torn out and limbs ripped apart to be discarded in the fields. Yet now these same people pounced on her like a pack of wolves at the first opportunity.

She understood that killing, plundering, and violating were the essence of a warrior, but becoming the target herself made her realize there could be nothing more ugly and disgusting.

“Found her! You didn’t get far!”

“Prepare the lasso! First, knock her off the horse!”

“Haha, to think we’d get a chance to taste Meiharin’s daughter. We should thank Khan Targiyan!”

The warriors’ mockery revealed her identity.

Meiharin’s daughter, Aishan-Gioro Imara.

She should have been in Ordos with Meiharin and Sahakal and the Blue Banner Army, not being chased across the fields like prey.

Of course, this was entirely her own doing.

“If we tie her to the saddle and show her to that viper woman—”

“I’ve never heard such foul talk!”

Imara, filled with urgency and humiliation, angrily turned her body toward the warriors, glaring at them while pulling the bowstring of her angular bow to its limit.

Her two forearms, bearing the massive tension, trembled as they revealed thin tendons.

– Swish!

The arrow shot forth.

The metal fragment, emitting a sharp sound, struck like lightning into the chest of the warrior who had been spewing obscenities.

“Urgh!”

The arrow penetrated the warrior’s scale armor as if it were glass, piercing his lungs. Trusting only in his armor and not even attempting to defend himself, the warrior fell from his horse with a strangled groan and rolled on the ground.

“What is that bow!”

Shocked by the power that far exceeded their expectations, the pursuers hurriedly raised shields, spears, and swords, lowering their posture.

“A strong bow that easily penetrates armor. Where did a girl who isn’t even a warrior get such a weapon…!”

It was no ordinary angular bow.

A powerful bow reminiscent of the arrows of Aishan-Gioro Haschal, the great warrior known as the Black Wolf who had slaughtered countless westerners two years ago.

It was not something that should be given to a girl known to be far from martial arts, unless she was a high-ranking warrior.

Unless it was a gift from a warrior worthy of possessing such an item.

– Swish!

Another piercing sound followed. The shot arrow penetrated and shattered a warrior’s shield, and another arrow pierced a horse’s forehead, sending its rider crashing to the ground.

“Kheuk…!”

“Don’t let your guard down! This is no ordinary skill!”

“Was the rumor that she was merely a sheltered maiden false…!”

Unlike Haschal, who had been rampaging as a warrior since childhood, Aishan-Gioro Imara was known to have lived quietly as a high-born daughter.

However, the archery skills the warriors now faced were as swift and accurate as those of a skilled hunter. So much so that three warriors who had considered her a caught fish fell in an instant.

“You underestimated me. Did the name Aishan-Gioro seem so ridiculous to you?”

Somewhat relieved by the warriors’ evident confusion, Aishan-Gioro Imara pulled the bowstring with all her might, her face twisted in a sneer.

The bow limb bent with a creaking groan. The powerful bow, a gift from her half-sister long ago, once again emitted a flash of light.