Ch.869What on Earth Should I Do About Those Things?

Ordos had become the utopia that all nomads dreamed of.

To the point where one might think that planting a few seeds here would grow into The World Tree in a hundred years.

The once-prosperous city was gone, replaced by a wasteland piled high with ashes and charred corpses.

It was hard to believe this had once been the capital of a people powerful enough to challenge the Empire.

Well, they should have invested more in technological development.

Just look at the Empire.

Thanks to squeezing every last drop from their tower researchers while sparing no expense, they’ve now created aerial bombardment ships.

Meanwhile, these horse-riders rejected sorcery as an entire people, so they’re still just riding horses and shooting arrows, same as eight hundred years ago.

No wonder they were utterly defeated.

Unbeatable on horseback, you say?

Able to shoot arrows backward while galloping and pierce an enemy’s throat?

Sure, that’s impressive.

They’d certainly be unmatched on an open battlefield.

If it were a traditional medieval battle with infantry formations clashing with spears and swords, and armored cavalry striking from behind.

But the Empire built airships.

While these people lived like bandits, plundering and raiding, the Empire pushed forward with magical engineering research and finally conquered the skies.

The vessels were a bit small to be called warships, and they were expensive to produce so there were only two or three so far… but their power was evident.

Not only could they reduce a city to ashes, but they could also nearly kill a powerful being like Rotholandus, who had been my equal.

And the terrifying thing was that these weapons of immense firepower were mass-producible, given enough time and money…

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say the Ka’har had no hope for the future. Unless their horses suddenly evolved into birds and grew wings.

Of course, that was an unrealistic assumption not worth considering. As likely as Leopold’s fallen hair returning to his head.

How could horses become birds? Ridiculous.

So the Ka’har were already doomed.

Conversely, the Empire’s future looked brilliant. As radiant as the halo around His Imperial Majesty’s head.

Once they mass-produced more airships and deployed them as standard equipment, they could prosper for another century.

Assuming they weren’t destroyed by the monsters that appear in the latter half of the original story.

—-

With this single battle, we confirmed the strategic value of combat airships, recovered Imelia’s remains, and annihilated enemy forces including the Third Apostle Meiharin.

We had essentially completed everything we needed to do here.

The gains were substantial.

Through the battle with the ginger lion, I mastered the technique of spatial cutting, and Nigel stepped before the wall and awakened her own heroic tale.

“Really? Congratulations. So, what kind of ability is it? What’s it called?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. Well, it’s—”

Nigel nodded in gratitude, then with a confident smile, explained the power she had awakened.

The effect itself was simple.

A heroic tale that allowed her to levitate her weapons in the air and control them freely with the power of her will.

In martial arts terms, it was like telekinetic weapon control.

Currently, she could only levitate one sword and one spear at a time, but once she completely surpassed the wall and became more familiar with it, she believed she could increase the number of weapons she could handle simultaneously.

It was a simple but powerful heroic tale.

If it had been my enemy wielding such a technique, I would have cursed them as a dirty, orphaned bastard fighting in a despicable manner.

Anyway, Nigel named her heroic tale “Valse d’acier”… “Steel Waltz.”

I thought my suggestions like “Auto-Combat” or “Flying Killer Blade” sounded better, and I subtly recommended them several times, but to no avail.

What did she say again? Something about not testing her loyalty?

She pleaded so earnestly that I eventually had to give up.

—-

Nigel and I weren’t the only ones who benefited.

Leonore was granted the black dragon scale sword that the ginger lion had wielded, and Demian was able to establish a fighting style that utilized his holy sword’s power while executing “Skywalk.”

Jahan, Millia, and Adamante also seemed pleased that they had grown stronger than before the battle. Joshua looked quite happy for similar reasons.

Lacy hadn’t gained anything in particular… but she seemed perfectly content just having been able to burn heretics with fire.

…What about Frider?

“I wonder when I’ll be able to cross the wall…”

He just sighed deeply with a somewhat disappointed expression.

Perhaps he was stressed about falling behind Millia and Demian. He seemed quite dissatisfied with still being only at the master level.

“Um… well…”

I had nothing to say to comfort him.

What could I say when his sighs were entirely self-inflicted?

He should have focused solely on hunting monsters and werebeasts instead of wasting time on hobbies. To the point where monsters would appear even in his dreams.

—-

After a short rest and basic treatment, what awaited us was the problem of cleaning up the aftermath of Ordos, now reduced to ruins.

The issue of what to do with the survivors.

“Hmm… what should we do with them?”

This was truly a headache.

Most of Meiharin’s main forces had been reduced to ashes along with Ordos, but those who had fled the city before the bombing began were still alive.

Slaves who had been caught trying to escape, elderly people and women and children who had evacuated earlier, soldiers and warriors who had deserted and abandoned the fight.

Their numbers exceeded a thousand. Probably between two and three thousand.

We put our heads together to consider what to do with them.

Leaving them alone didn’t seem particularly threatening. Having witnessed a single flying ship burn an entire city to the ground, they had lost all will to fight and were just sitting blankly with pale faces.

However, while they might not be a threat, if we left them like this…

[They’ll all die. Or become slaves.]

As Hersella stated, most of them would meet a miserable end.

With Ordos burned to the ground, they had nothing to eat, and other tribes wouldn’t leave thousands of refugees who couldn’t defend themselves alone.

The warriors might somehow survive, but the rest were essentially dead the moment we left them behind.

[But why should that concern us?]

Of course, Hersella’s attitude was that it wasn’t her problem.

[Whether they live or die is their fate, we have no reason to care.]

That was to be expected.

Hersella only cared about her close acquaintances and the people those acquaintances cared about.

As long as I, Jahan, and my companions from the Thousand Sword Corps were safe, she didn’t care whether anyone else lived or died.

Like an alpha animal leading a pack, she deeply cared for her own group but showed not a shred of mercy to other groups.

Even though her temperament had mellowed considerably compared to before, this mindset was precisely why she still wasn’t recognized as Durandal’s master.

‘That’s a bit…’

In other words, as Durandal’s master, I couldn’t just leave these people to die.

[Sigh… Usually you’re no different from a demon, but you become strangely soft when it comes to the weak…]

Hersella sighed. Her tone suggested she couldn’t understand why I would care about the lives of the elderly, women, and children.

Since arguing would be pointless, instead of criticizing her attitude, I focused on discussing the matter with the rest of the group.

—-

“So, does anyone have any good ideas?”

“When you ask so suddenly like that…”

At my question, everyone tilted their heads and pondered deeply.

I took out a mana herb and smoked it while patiently waiting for their answers.

And first to speak was Lacy…

“Wouldn’t it be best to burn them all at the stake?”

…who offered an absolutely insane opinion.

No, Lacy. Kill them all? What are you talking about?

Nearly seventy percent of them are elderly people, women who’ve never held anything heavier than a kitchen knife, and children smaller than cart wheels.

And you want to burn them all? Are you crazy?

Please save your reputation for when you’re facing enemies. Okay? Wouldn’t Elpinel want that too?

Lacy’s suggestion was naturally rejected. In the name of Astraea, goddess of order and justice.

My justice involved splitting villains’ heads in half, not capturing their wives and children and burning them alive.

“Won’t other tribes just take them? What about that one… your half-brother who’s still around?”

Frider asked with a shrug.

“Targiyan? No way.”

I immediately rejected the idea. That crazy stable pervert couldn’t be trusted.

Just from the rumors, it was obvious he had intelligence about two-tenths of Hersella’s but with added cruelty. How could someone like that properly treat refugees who had been under Sahakal and Meiharin?

If we handed the refugees over to him, we’d end up with a world where horses rode humans instead of humans riding horses.

Such a reality must never come to pass.

“Indeed, burning at the stake might be preferable to entrusting them to Targiyan.”

See? Even Jahan says so. Therefore, Frider’s proposal was rejected.

Six people remained.

Demian and Millia seemed to have no thoughts on the matter, while Leonore appeared deep in thought.

She looked like she had something to say but wasn’t sure if she should say it.

Joshua and Nigel said they would follow my decision and gave up thinking about it.

And the last person, Adamante…

“…Lord Astraea. Does Lord Astraea affirm the possibility of ‘reformation’?”

—posed a truly puzzling question.