Damned System

Chapter 55. Main Scenario (4)

“Are you uninterested in exchanging mana, given your nonsensical remarks?”

“Hehe, should I just keep my mouth shut?”

“Yes, please do. I prefer quietness. Also, please maintain some distance.”

“Yes, understood!”

Ahel cheerfully saluted, his hand beside his head as if giving a salute.

At that moment, people gathered around Ahel.

“Ahel.”

As I was watching, curious about what was happening, Raul and the others placed their hands on Ahel’s shoulders.

Before Rashar could say anything, I joined in with them.

“Alright, Ahel will…”

Then Rashar trailed off and nodded.

Simultaneously, my vision turned white, and I felt an immense sense of falling.

It seemed as if I was being sucked into somewhere or perhaps falling endlessly.

It was similar to the sensation of falling in a dream, but much more intense.

That strange feeling abruptly disappeared without any warning.

“Gasp.”

As my body, which had been floating, landed back on solid ground, I struggled to keep my balance.

I needed to strengthen my legs to stand, but I missed the timing.

Almost falling in a clumsy manner, Raul supported me.

The wind’s roaring sound hit my ears from all directions, making them numb.

“Are you alright?”

Through the wind’s turmoil, I heard Rashar’s voice.

I shook my head vigorously and answered.

“… Somewhat.”

“Everyone finds it hard to adapt initially.”

It was clear that the sensation I just experienced was due to a spatial transfer spell, even without asking.

The scenery before my eyes was entirely different.

The rocks and trees, which had been ideal for hiding, were gone.

The bright blue sky, the clean clouds, and the wind blowing so strongly that my ears felt clogged.

We stood atop a considerably high cliff.

In the distance, winding rivers and vast plains stretched out.

It was a breathtaking sight that seemed to clear one’s mind.

Supported by Raul, I stood straight and couldn’t tear my eyes away from the view for a while.

But Rashar gripped my shoulder, causing me to turn around.

Meeting her gaze, she nodded her head backward.

Following her gesture, I raised my head slowly.

Behind us, a cliff standing several times higher than where we stood rose firmly.

Though it was quite some distance away, its height was so dizzying that I had to tilt my head back significantly to see its end; it was steep as well.

Having lived my life amidst city buildings, I was momentarily speechless before the grandeur of the natural scene.

It was an overwhelming spectacle.

“Welcome, K.”

Rashar pointed downward with her finger.

I obediently followed the direction she indicated with my gaze.

“That’s Habon, the frontline outpost of the Ferrell Resistance.”

There was something minuscule at the base of the steep cliff.

* * *

-We must meet with the division commander first. He is the total authority of the 2nd division stationed at Habon.

Since an unidentified outsider was entering a place where the military stayed, it seemed necessary to gain the permission of those in charge.

I nodded in acknowledgment of Rashar’s explanation.

Actually, even if what she said seemed unusual, I wouldn’t have reacted differently.

I was too preoccupied to listen closely to her words.

The imposing sight of the fortress we encountered after descending stairs precariously carved alongside the cliff was worth the detour.

‘This must be what people call a fortress.’

The fortress known as Habon occupied a spot deep within a canyon.

Its very location exuded an unassailable aura, enhanced by the challenging surrounding terrain.

Sheer cliffs stretched to either side, enveloping the fortress like a bird’s wings.

To reach the fortress from ground level, one would have to pass through a narrow pathway only 6-7 meters wide.

Otherwise, one would need to scale nearly vertical cliffs.

The fortress backed by sky-high cliffs was truly a natural citadel.

As someone accustomed to urban jungles, the sight was utterly novel.

Upon reaching the fortress’s gates, I was preoccupied with gaping upwards, taking in the scene beyond the walls.

“It must be at least several dozen meters high.”

Behind the towering walls lay buildings terraced like steps.

Initially, they seemed like ordinary stone constructions.

But they differed from the buildings I had seen while working at construction sites.

“There are no seams.”

There was no evidence of bricks laid using cement, and the walls were smooth.

This signified that the buildings stood as singular carved structures, not assembled entities.

Every building within Habon Fortress was an artistic creation carved from the standing cliffs.

“Unbelievable…”

Pure admiration slipped out unbidden.

To have carved an entire citadel out of cliffs—whoever conceived it was brilliant indeed.

I continued to admire the fortress long enough.

Feeling that the entry took longer than expected, I glanced towards the gate, where Rashar began speaking.

“K.”

“Yes?”

“It seems we need to have an escort when bringing in Messeo. It’s for unforeseeable situations, so please understand.”

Reading the underlying implication of her words wasn’t challenging.

‘A guard under the guise of an escort.’

I waved my hand dismissively, understanding her point.

Regardless of the direction, my goal remained the same—to reach the temple.

‘If conversing with the System is truly possible, it needs verification.’

I needed to determine whether the hypotheses I had formed based on gathered information were genuine or mere delusions.

My decisions would adjust based on whether replies were provided or not.

As I pondered events upon reaching the temple, a small door next to the towering wall opened.

Entering through there, the atmosphere seemed tense.

“Outsider…”

“Oracle…”

“Again…”

All the eyes within sight focused entirely on me.

‘This is rather overwhelming.’

It was challenging to appear composed with strangers observing me with such complex emotions.

Quickly, before I grew uncomfortable with this attention, Ahel called out to me in a low voice from behind.

“K.”

Reacting reflexively, I turned to him, watching his mouth move silently.

-Palao.

Palao? The God of Charity?

‘Why mention that name all of a sudden?’

Before I could voice my question, Rashar gripped my shoulder and said,

“K, let’s go.”

In that moment, those clad in armor had approached.

They formed a circle around Rashar and me.

Casting a glance behind, Ahel waved his hand.

Raul and the others stood by the fortress gate, apparently not intending to accompany us.

After gazing at them for some time, I finally moved alongside Rashar.

Walking with those armored figures, people’s stares continuously drilled into us.

Feeling as though my initial thought—to reach the temple—was trivial, I stiffened gradually.

‘I should finish this quickly.’

Just as that thought crossed my mind, I unexpectedly discovered something amidst the crowd.

A person with vertically slit pupils, looking slightly beast-like with a pronounced snout.

An inverted triangular pink nose and ears perked atop his head.

Seeing him, undeniably non-human, I was startled but not overtly thanks to Rashar and Ahel.

‘Demi-humans.’

I had speculated as much from the times they occasionally mentioned demi-humans.

That intelligent beings other than humans might exist.

Thus, despite the initial surprise, I wasn’t thrown into shock.

Exchanging glances with those distinctive cat-like eyes for a few seconds, I refocused on the path ahead.

Conversing with that unfamiliar sentient creature wasn’t a priority now.

“Rashar.”

Hearing my call, Rashar immediately fixed her gaze on me.

“I wish to inquire about the division commander.”

First, let’s resolve meeting the person in charge and reaching the temple.

* * *

Once a bastion known as the Natural Fortress in the Ferrell Kingdom, Habon Fortress served as the base for the Ferrell Resistance’s 2nd division.

The fort was led by the division’s commander, Greg Tembon, head of House Tembon, and Apostle of the god of patience, temoria.

He was diligently occupied with administrative work in his office, as always.

Scritch, scratch—The faint sound of a pen filled the room with gentle noise.

The serene scene continued without disruption from dawn, lasting hours.

To the unknowing eye, it might have seemed like a painting.

This peaceful quiet broke around noon when the sun was high in the sky.

“Division Commander!”

Without so much as a knock, light footsteps approached the open door.

There stood the lieutenant, face flushed.

Normally stone-faced and stoic, the degree of his agitation indicated significant news.

Bracing mentally, Greg asked in a calm voice,

“What is it?”

“Sir Bennett has returned.”

Greg blinked slowly at this revelation.

The news implied that Rashar Bennett, responsible for the rescue mission, was safe.

During the retreat, they had been spotted, leading to combat.

It had been four days since Rashar, civilian refugees, and some troopers were separated and left behind.

Though a rescue team was preparable, the location was already deserted when they arrived.

However, Ahel Belethia, capable of teleportation magic without a sigil, was among those remaining.

Thus, they’d continued hoping for the group’s safe return and awaited news.

And today’s news confirmed their survival.

The survival of Palao’s apostles was welcome news indeed.

Their presence held the key to realizing their hopes.

Still, it hardly qualified as ‘startling’ news worthy of rattling the unflappable lieutenant.

Apostles of Palao often possessed prodigious talents.

That typically resulted in higher survival rates.

‘Even if the troopers perished, Bennett surely returned alive.’

Pondering why his lieutenant was surprised, Greg blinked once more.

The next words enlightened everything.

“Apparently, at the gate, she claimed to have brought an Outsider.”

Before the lieutenant finished, Greg’s actions stilled utterly.

The ink pooled around the pen nib left a round blot on the document.

It was noteworthy news—the normally monotonous lieutenant surprised enough to rush over.

Greg, briefly halted, audibly released a breath he hadn’t noticed holding.

Clearing away the pen and spoiled document, he responded.

“We have rare guests indeed.”

If the individual Rashar brought was indeed the Outsider mentioned in the oracle, ‘rare’ would fall short of describing them.

“Where are they now?”

“They are currently being escorted here by the main gate force.”

“Then, we shall meet them shortly.”

Greg steadied his posture, reigning in his emotions.

‘The Outsider…’

Since the apostle of Meferoseta’s prophecy and death, many claimed themselves Outsiders.

Each one proved a fraud, seeking profit from the order.

This lit a skepticism toward the oracle among many.

For more than a year they’d been chasing shadows, wearing thin the patience of some.

Recently, accusations arose labeling the apostle of Meferoseta as an enemy accomplice.

Claiming the false prophecies misled the population.

The authority of Meferoseta’s order had waned significantly.

Though still, most demi-humans held hope in the oracle.

And now, another supposed Outsider had emerged during this period.

Would today’s encounter nurture the hope the prophecy spoke of?

‘Or would it only ignite further discord?’

The outcome remained unknown. Therefore steadiness of mind remained crucial.

Greg intended no skepticism beyond due diligence, nor was he blindly chasing hope.

“Division Commander.”

While composing himself, a knock echoed beyond the office door.

“Sir Rashar Bennett and… the guest have arrived.”

Rising with a fluid motion, Greg adjusted his uniform before answering.

“Send them in.”

As he arranged his attire, the office door swung open.

Damn System.