The Mythical Hero's Otherworld Chronicles: Volume 13 (eBook)

Tatematsuri (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
250 Seiten
J-Novel Club (Verlag)
978-1-7183-0354-6 (ISBN)

Infos

As the legendary Hero King Mars, Hiro Oguro once ruled battlefields, conquered nations, and founded the continent-spanning Grantzian Empire before giving up all memories of his hard-won glory to return home to his old life. In the years since his return, he has forged a new legend to rival the old-one which now hurtles toward its conclusion. The final battle is at hand. The Demiurgos and his monstrous hordes are poised to destroy all Hiro and Artheus once fought for. Against them stand the empire's last hope: Liz, having come into her own as the heir to the throne, and Hiro, determined to fulfill a long-held promise. Yet old sins haunt the pair still, and a convergence will envelop Soleil as past and present collide. When the final chapter of the mythical hero's otherworld chronicles is written, how will their story end?

Textauszug

Chapter 2: Soleil at War

The soldiers carved through the Vanaheim Theocracy like a hot knife through butter. As the sun dipped below the horizon, they rode on with swords in hands, morale unshaken and seemingly immune to exhaustion. Upon their banners fluttered the crests of Six Kingdoms. The most prominent was the serpent of Anguis, denoting the armies of Queen Lucia du Anguis, the presumptive successor to the High King. Her troops fought fearsomely on the field, laying waste to the álfar’s finest warriors. The holy capital of the Vanir Triumvirate was in their sights, and they would not let it elude them.

Their march had encountered little resistance, although that was only to be expected. The vast majority of the Triumvirate’s forces were advancing on the imperial border. A handful of álfen troops had tried to fight back, though they did not have the numbers to mount any appreciable opposition. The army was presently embroiled in battle with one such force.

A command tent, simple in structure but garishly adorned, stood overlooking the plain. Lucia watched the battle unfold from within, sipping lasciviously from a goblet of wine. Aides scurried around her, attending to their duties. She left them to their work as she savored the crimson liquid. Her army held such an overwhelming advantage that she saw no need to take command in person.

Seleucus, her long-serving aide, saw her goblet was empty and leaned down to refill it. “More offers of surrender arrive by the hour, Your Majesty,” he said.

“Do they indeed? What a bore these álfar are. Still, with their spirits broken, they pose little threat. And even if they do plan some treachery, what could they possibly do?” She downed the wine in one gulp and cast the goblet to the floor. A wicked smile took root on her face. “We have fought enough petty skirmishes. ’Tis time to focus on the capital. If the álfar wish to bow before our might, let them. And if they do not, we shall set their towns to the torch until they see the error of their ways.”

She stood up and strode forth from the tent, flicking open her fan and raising it over her mouth. For a long moment, she regarded the battle with a piercing gaze before turning her attention to the city of Vanr behind.

“We shall seize the city and take its faithful hostage. With its people in our grasp, the cardinals shall have no choice but to bend the knee...at least, if they know what is good for them.”

Six Kingdoms would profit handsomely from this venture. They had lost many soldiers in battle with the empire, and this conquest would strengthen their weakened military. Nala and Kwasir remained cause for concern, but with Vanr under Six Kingdoms’ control, the remaining members of the Triumvirate would have no choice but to accede to Lucia’s will. The city was a treasure trove of historical buildings, storied relics, and valuable riches. They would not risk allowing it to be sacked.

“This is proceeding more smoothly than I ever dreamed,” Lucia said. “Why, the Triumvirate has all but leaped willingly into my grasp.”

“And with minimal losses,” Seleucus said. “Do you mean to mount another assault on the empire?”

“I see no reason not to consider it should the opportunity present itself.”

Absorbing the Vanir Triumvirate would bolster Six Kingdoms’ strength significantly. It would be a shame not to put their newly acquired soldiers to use. A second grand invasion was an enticing prospect, and if it just so happened that Lucia’s intervention drove back the Demiurgos—well, that would surely win the loyalty of the empire’s nobles, and then her conquest would be all but assured. But that was a matter for another day. Right now, she could not help but notice that her aide looked troubled.

“Is something the matter, Seleucus?”

He shrugged. “Events in the empire are weighing on me, Your Majesty. Our agents are relaying all they know, but their reports take time to travel. Our information is necessarily delayed.”

Six Kingdoms’ spies were doing what they could, but every report seemed to contain some new development that upended their understanding anew. The situation was unpredictable, and there was desperately little information from which to decide how to respond. Nonetheless, Lucia reasoned, the ultimate outcome of the war in the east would not threaten her success so long as she played her cards right in the west.

“I care not what becomes of the empire,” she said, “so long as they slay enough of the Triumvirate’s soldiers.”

If the Triumvirate won the battle, they would continue eastward, giving Lucia the time she needed to conquer Vanr. If they returned home in defeat, their exhausted soldiers would pose little threat, if they even managed to return home without the Draali executing them as bandits.

“Our victory is already written. And once Vanr is ours, we shall give the Triumvirate’s exhausted troops a warm welcome with spear and blade.” Lucia hid her laughter behind her fan, but there was no concealing the trembling of her shoulders. Yet she stopped and looked up as a thought struck her. “But what of Steissen? If anyone remains to threaten our plans, it is them.”

“Our agents report no movement on their border with the Free Folk.”

“Good. But we must not grow complacent, Seleucus. Their high consul may be otherwise occupied, but that does not render their armies impotent. We must keep a watchful eye.”

Seleucia cocked his head, perplexed that Lucia was being so cautious with Vanr on the horizon. “Must we fear them so? They would have to pass through both the Free Folk’s lands and Kwasir to march on us. That seems an unlikely choice.”

“Tell me, Seleucus. Which do you think would be more profitable for them—to side with the empire or against it?”

“The empire is vast, Your Majesty. Surely Steissen stands to gain more by taking a piece of it for themselves. And with so much unrest in the south, it seems to me that they would have little trouble doing so.”

“I disagree.”

The empire’s lands made a tempting prize, but a nation that seized them too greedily might find itself unable to withdraw, and once trapped, it would be locked in a battle to the death. Taking territory was one thing, but holding it was another, and the process could well reduce their hard-fought prize to a wasteland. It would be much less risky to conquer somewhere smaller—somewhere like the territory of the Free Folk, which at present would only be lightly defended, and which formed a gateway to the lands of the Triumvirate.

“Our future, Seleucus, hinges on whether this high consul follows her brain or her gut.”

Once that question was settled, they would just have to see how events played out. Who would laugh and who would weep, who would taste victory and who would sup bitter defeat—the answers to those questions would be found in the space between life and death. A convergence was nigh, and the empire stood at the center. The coming weeks would be spoken of for generations to come. Win or lose, the names of today’s rulers would echo in history, and Lucia meant for hers to ring loudest.

She snapped her fan closed and expelled a heated breath. “A tale that spoke of the empire alone would be a tiresome one indeed...but I shall ensure it is not the only star.”

＊＊＊＊＊

The Republic of Steissen had not always been one nation. Four hundred years in the past, the three powers of Lichtein, Jötunheim, and Nidavellir had ceased their feud for the south of Soleil to join hands against imperial aggression. In time, Lichtein had split from the union, leaving control of Steissen split between the remaining two—a state of affairs that had held to the present day.

Recently, however, that arrangement had come under strain. The death of the last high consul three years prior had left the Jötunheimite and Nidavellirite factions fighting to elect a successor from their respective ranks. The dispute had escalated to poisonings, betrayals, and conspiracies, until Steissen descended into civil war. The nation had only become whole when the beastfolk of the Jötunheimites had prevailed over the dwarves of Nidavellir, in no small part thanks to the aid of the empire. Now, Skadi Bestla Mikhail, the current high consul, had returned to the Jötunheimite stronghold of Thrynheim.

Jötunheim was a land of beastfolk, who formed the majority of the population of the lands west of Thrynheim. It was home to the only grasslands in Steissen, and rolling plains stretched to the horizon in all directions. To the west lay fertile soil that fed the nation’s granaries. To the east towered the fortress-city of Gastropnir, home to the greatest hunting grounds in Aletia. The horses bred there were transported all across Soleil, bringing wealth to Jötunheim and forming a pillar of Steissen’s economy. If the dwarves were masters of the forge, the beastfolk were masters of animal husbandry. Together, the two peoples had made Steissen peaceful and strong, with its armies equipped with the finest arms and borne by the finest steeds.

Skadi yawned. “They still at it?”

A nearby aide smiled awkwardly. “They’ve been arguing for these causes their whole careers, chief. They’ll be at it a while yet.”

“Should’ve known. Gods, what a pain...”

Skadi looked around the senate hall once more. All around the circular chamber sat...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 23.12.2025
• Reihe/Serie: The Mythical Hero’s Otherworld Chronicles
• Illustrationen: Ruria Miyuki
• Übersetzer: James Whittaker
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Science Fiction
• Schlagworte: action • High Fantasy • Isekai • Light Novel • Magic • Military Strategy • war
• ISBN-10: 1-7183-0354-8 / 1718303548
• ISBN-13: 978-1-7183-0354-6 / 9781718303546