The Vastness of Magical Destiny
Chapter 618: Volume 16: Mists and Illusions, - 11: Head-On Collision (1)

Chapter 618: Volume 16: Mists and Illusions, Chapter 11: Head-On Collision (1)

Conan rode amidst the regiment of knights with a calm demeanor, showing no signs of anything amiss. Wearing his exquisite armor, he presented a particularly handsome and valiant figure. However, the bitterness and gloom troubling his heart caused him to feel a ceaseless, indescribable irritability.

Whether it was the officers of the infantry or his fellow knights, and even the mages of the Mage Corps, all were curious about the oddity within his family. Of course, they did not regard Komer as a threat to them; their surprise lay in how that outcast managed to find a foothold in the desolate and fearsome Caucasus, mingling with the ugly half-beastmen and barbarians. To a knight of noble standing, half-beastmen and barbarians were as repugnant as trash and dung. Associating with them was considered self-degradation, an unthinkable act for nobility.

Facing his colleagues’ inquiries, Conan could only offer a wry smile. To tell the truth, he knew just as little about the elusive Komer, who, since departing from Cyprus, had never returned home. However, news about him somehow trickled back to the family now and then. His exploits in the Caucasus had caught the attention of many, but to Conan, such news was less about garnering interest and more a source of scornful small talk. Forming a self-defense squad of half-beastmen, living among them, associating with barbarians, and even striking up relations with the Jellyfish People of the Catania River Swamps—none of his brother’s actions could remotely be deemed fitting for a person of noble birth. Conan often felt embarrassment and shame when faced with his comrades’ jests.

Although everyone believed that the impending battle would end with an overwhelming victory, deeming the foolish half-beastmen troops incapable of contending with Homer’s regular army. With so many knights and mages bolstering the ranks, Homer’s army was expected to sweep through Leon and the Caucasus like a whirlwind. However, Carl Libkenesi, the Corps Commander of the Storm Infantry, did not quite share this sentiment, though he too believed that the ultimate victory would belong to Homer.

The last defeat of Homer’s army had made Carl particularly cautious. Even though it had been the intervention of magical power that turned the tides of the battlefield, intelligence indicated that the Kingdom of Nicosia had also gathered all their Court Mages in the northern part of the kingdom to counter the half-beastmen. However, this did not imply that the Lord of the Caucasus and Leon only had a bunch of half-beastmen to rely on. Could the Baron, who managed to establish a foothold so quickly on this cursed land, merely stand by and watch Homer’s army advance into Leon with folded arms? Carl Libkenesi did not think so; maintaining a clear head was the most basic requirement of a soldier.

Regrettably, it seemed the Knight Conan did not possess much information about his brother, and his knowledge of Komer’s circumstances in the Caucasus was limited. Carl always found it hard to believe the introductions given by these people. Although the main force of the army was under his command, there was a Viscount from the Knight’s regiment appointed as the overall Commander. Carl was not concerned about this fact, but he was worried that the other’s excessive pride could bring disaster to the troops.

The anxious expression of Carl Libkenesi did not sit well with Viscount Salman, responsible for this campaign, who deemed the professional soldier’s worries to be completely unnecessary. To Salman, a bunch of half-beastmen who were no better than country bumpkins, wielding nothing but clubs and pickaxes—without the support of mages, they would not even know how to wage a battle anymore.

"Carl, what worries you? We will swiftly conclude this battle. These damned half-beastmen should be nailed along the roads, from Bruce to the Caucasus, to remind them that their place is in the dark mine tunnels. Last time’s fluke made these insolent fools overstep. This time, we will teach them a lifelong lesson, showing our glorious Homer Knights and formidable magicians in action, making sure they and their descendants never forget their place."

Viscount Salman’s whip, made of scale skin, was clearly not just a fine piece of art. As a knight, one must consider both the practicality and the aesthetics of their weapon. The scale skin whip, crafted from the hide of an earth-based magical creature with fiery properties—the fire lizard—was quite elegant. While not as exquisitely effective as the magic tools merchants boasted, it was still a high-quality item.

"Your Excellency, I’m not concerned about those half-beastmen; no matter their training, they can never be the match for our brave warriors of the infantry. I’m just a bit worried that Baron Komer won’t just allow himself to be captured so easily. I heard he was quite a haughty figure back in Cyprus, and he surely doesn’t think we will stop at Leon, does he? What do you think he will do to save himself?" Frowning, Carl Libkenesi held little fondness for the arrogant Viscount Salman.

"Heh, an arrogant character? Mr. Carl, you’re giving him too much credit. If it weren’t for Mr. Ramla being the Duke’s Finance Officer, he would likely have been tossed into the Nether Sea to feed the fish by now. He is nothing more than a conceited playboy, flaunting his connections to Mr. Ramla to swindle and show off everywhere. Many a maiden from the common families of Cyprus City has been defiled by their group. He is also lucky that Susoer, Meine, and Myron were attacked by beastmen, giving him the chance to pick up some immigrants. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even set foot in the Caucasus," Saliman said with disdain, "What can he do? Except to hit the road and flee again, his only option is to bow down and beg the Duke for forgiveness for his insolence."

"Viscount Saliman, I’m afraid it’s not that simple. I always feel that Baron Komer will not just bow down so easily. I hope my intuition is wrong," the commander of the Storm Infantry Corps shook his head, not wanting to argue further on this issue.

Shatima had been wandering the Greenland Great Forest for three days now, reveling in the boundless freedom. Running naked through the forest, even though her primal power had not fully recovered, she was now able to temporarily revert to her true form. Even if she couldn’t, the dragon’s breath was enough to keep any magical beasts or creatures at bay. None would dare offend the dignity of the Dragon Clan.

That old coot Rebry seemed to have recognized her true self, but Shatima didn’t care. That old thing was well-hidden but didn’t seem to hold any malice towards her. It was like that Mihailovich, a human Puppet Mage. These characters banded together, and Shatima was curious as to what Komer was really up to.

Indeed, the Greenland Forest was a paradise for magical beasts, but the ones Shatima encountered were mostly solitary creatures, like the Gold Rhino or the Sky-Watching Elephant - large beasts with formidable strength but found alone or in pairs. This did not meet Komer’s request for swarms of tens of thousands of aggressive magical beasts. It looked like she had to target the Gray Wolf packs, but finding their dens was not easy. Their keen sense of smell would lead them to flee upon detecting her presence from afar, and it seemed they all gathered around the Ice Lake area. So, it looked like she had to make a trip there.

If anyone were to see such a magnificent naked woman running wildly through this primeval forest, they would probably think they were hallucinating. It had been a long time since Shatima had indulged in such unrestrained joy. Her human guise restricted her every move, and she had to emulate a ladylike demeanor following Komer’s instructions, with Eve and Finitz seemingly the ideals she was to emulate, which was utterly depressing to her. Carrying the Dragon Spear on her shoulder, Shatima had forgotten she was still in the world of humans, not far from a comparatively older, yet still male, human mage.

Rebry watched helplessly from a distance at the carefree Dragon Lady. Komer entrusted this woman to him, making it difficult to refuse his task. Although the two deliberately maintained their distance, magic communication allowed them to stay in touch with minimal effort. So far, they had not found the den of the Gray Wolves, and it seemed that a trip to the Ice Lake was inevitable.

Vladimir Koff kept his arms crossed, preferring the solitude of his journey. The dangers of the Greenland Forest meant little to a Dark Knight, and encounters with savory magical beasts could even contribute to his advancement in the Martial Dao. It was just unfortunate that in recent days, he hadn’t come across any notable magical beasts. Although creatures like the Gold Rhino were innately powerful, they lacked aggression, and Vladimir Koff had little interest in slaughtering these beasts. As for that inexplicably infatuated woman, even from a great distance, Vladimir Koff could still feel the allure of her bare flesh.

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