43 - Chapter 39: The Fools Who Eat Mud
Sirius-san "What should I do... I'm doing the most work I've ever done in my life...!"
The young soldier of the Kessel army trembled at the hellish sight.
It was supposed to be an easy job.
Monsters are strong. Normally, those that appear when traveling from village to village, or when moving even slightly away from places where people gather, cannot be safely dealt with unless one is a soldier or an adventurer, who could be called a combat professional. The youth, who had originally been a mere farmer, knew that terror well.
Even slimes and goblins, called the weakest, are threats to ordinary people. However, since such monsters were mixed together and obediently followed human orders as allies, he had let his guard down, thinking that this war was already won. Not only the youth, but the residents who joined midway, and even the original Kessel soldiers felt the same.
Or so he had thought.
"What the hell is this...?"
It was fine at first.
Everyone was in high spirits until they invaded the Triad and took the fort. Because the enemy army retreated immediately, they couldn't loot much, but they believed that if they could invade deeper, they too would receive a share of the spoils.
Things began to seem strange starting from the first village.
There were no villagers, as if they had fled with only the clothes on their backs. Information transmission was unusually fast, but well, that was fine. Up to that point, it was still within the realm of common sense. From the next village onward, not only were there no people, but food and valuables were also gone. Fields were burned, poison was thrown into wells, and the Kessel army, which incorporated looting as a strategy, began to struggle with supplies.
Forced to change their march route, the advance became sluggish due to the size of the army. Then, with supplies barely managed, the monsters who were supposed to be allies began to lose control due to hunger and started attacking parts of the Kessel army. It was around then that those demons arrived.
Repeating warnings like a prayer, they launched surprise attacks like lightning and departed like a storm.
From the flags they flew, it was clear they were the Triad army. But was there a unit that used the lotus flower, Lotus, carved into their armor as an emblem? At least, it was not in the knowledge of the youth, a crash-course soldier who had recently become part of the military, but he would come to know their strength and malice all too well.
They set numerous delayed-action booby traps smeared with excrement along the march route, triggering them when the army reached its middle. Then, while the army was flustered by the attack, they would charge toward the vanguard or the rear supply trains that had been distracted. Furthermore, after taking a few heads, they would immediately retreat, only to attack again just as the army had caught its breath.
Those attacks occurred regardless of whether it was night or morning, and the Kessel army came to tremble in a terror that might never end.
After creating many wounded and sick, and causing numerous unit losses, they finally reached the site of the decisive battle, and he felt relieved. Finally, this hell would end. Since they were superior in numbers, victory would be unwavering if they clashed head-on... or so he had thought.
When the lid was opened, it was precisely the lid of the cauldron of hell.
The earth deformed, pillars of fire like divine punishment rained down, and a hell like those in paintings unfolded. There were neither humans nor monsters. All were burned away equally and without exception.
Having somehow survived pathetically... two thousand demons stood blocking his path.
They flew the flag of the Triad, and their armor bore the emblem of the lotus flower, Lotus.
While staining their armor, the great spears, Lances, in their hands, and even themselves with blood, mud, and wounds... those demons chanted that prayer like devout priests.
"In-fight until you collapse"
The youth did not know. That the demons had once hammered their rotten selves back into shape, smeared themselves in mud, and learned true weakness and strength.
"In-fight until you collapse"
The youth did not know. That the demons had cast aside fear, cast aside hesitation, and ran through ten years of time with the honest stupidity befitting the name of a gang.
"In-fight until you collapse"
The youth did not know. Why they still clung to the name of a gang, even while already being praised as strong within the territory.
"In-fight until you collapse...!"
And the youth could not possibly know. Why the name Lotus was given to the demons' unit.
"O, ooooohhhhh!"
A comrade nearby roared. Exercising reckless courage, he even let go of the weapon in his hand and clung to one of the demons to stop its movement.
"N-now! Do it!!"
And the comrade shouted that to the youth.
"D-damn it!"
The shaking would not stop. But his body moved. If he did not move here, he would die. It was a half-reflexive movement.
But...
"I did it...!"
That single thrust of the spear certainly pierced the demon's armor and stabbed into its stomach.
●
For that man, death had always been close.
He was originally an orphan. He knew neither parents nor anything, and before he knew it, he had lived by huddling with similar folk and stealing someone's food. Even now, he did not think that was bad. It was to survive. He had no intention of being defiant and saying it couldn't be helped, but it was simply that the only means of earning he possessed were illegal. Just as nobles managed territories, just as farmers tilled fields, just as merchants traded, a thief simply stole.
A fool smeared in mud, eating mud, walking toward a dark future. There was no reward, no praise, only burying himself day by day, and what was promised was a lonely death in the wild.
That was how it should have been. That was how it had to be.
But a turning point comes for any human. In the man's case...
"I shall dare to say it. You are scum!"
It came with an insult from the Savior, Geoglyph.
The days from then on were dizzying. Training that made everything before seem lukewarm, yet an environment where he could eat his fill. He supplemented his weak strength with the wisdom he was granted, and as his body was forged through training, he became strong before he knew it.
It was not just the man, but those around him as well. Eventually, they went out together and took the lead in subjugation missions for monsters that were beyond the hands of adventurers, and they began to be thanked by the residents, and along with that, the number of volunteers increased.
However, the founder, the Savior, refused all but a few. Surprisingly, he even kicked away the request of his father, the Lord, Radglyph. And not privately, but during a council meeting.
Everyone was surprised by that stubbornness to refuse even if it meant smearing mud on the face of his father and the Lord, and eventually, some even came to negotiate directly. In particular, there were many frustrated second sons and beyond of the warrior class, and he became a target of jealousy, as they wondered why he gathered only commoners instead of someone like himself from a knightly house.
But that Savior resolutely said this to some who criticized the unit.
"Why do you think I gave a gang the name Lotus?"
Because it became such a commotion, he gathered all the prominent figures within the castle, and the Savior, who was eight years old at the time, gave a speech. His dignified presence was almost like that of a veteran politician.
"The lotus flower is a mysterious plant. The thicker the muddy water, the more beautiful the flower it blooms."
The lotus flower does not grow in clean water or fertile soil.
"They lived in the filth, survived in it, and even sank their spirits to the bottom. I certainly gave them the trigger, but they are who they are now because they collapsed in hardship, were frustrated by dreams, walked a life full of mistakes... and yet, they showed their grit and made it theirs through the trigger they were given."
In the mud, they grow by absorbing nutrients from what others see as filth.
"In contrast, what about you? Born into a knightly house, you pride yourselves greatly on that lineage, but have you accomplished anything with your own hands?"
Thinking back, those who could not enter the unit all spoke of their own origin the moment they opened their mouths. Even those who came to negotiate directly.
"I am also a noble. But I have never once prided myself on the name of Triad to others. That name and pride were built up by ancestors and should be inherited by the eldest brother, and I will eventually step down to the countryside and live simply as a Geoglyph. How much value is there in a name I will eventually discard?"
Indeed, while the Savior would call himself a Triad, he said that his wisdom, that ridiculous magical power, and even his strange magic were things he created himself. Not once, at least in front of the unit members, did he brandish the power of the Triad. Even in that great brawl when they first met, he fought as an individual. It was only when the man was defeated and handed over to the guards that he learned of his origin.
"They have fought alone from the beginning. They make mistakes. They hesitate. They fall. They get covered in mud, and they get dirty. But even with the help of family and comrades, they are people who stood on their own feet in the end. That is why they earned the right to be reborn."
The life of a lotus flower is short. Only four days. Yet, because it leaves seeds and blooms proudly again, it is sometimes a synonym for rebirth.
"Regardless of warrior class, those I let into the gang were such people. They must be such people. Even if it is pathetic, even if they are alone, they must be people who do not forget to struggle, even in the mud. You say my attitude is stubborn, or why it is only commoners, without even thinking with your lacking brains. Let me ask you in return... do you, who come to negotiate directly only with a family name and a parent accompanying you, have more value than them?"
Using the family name as a shield, relying on parents without struggling themselves. Those were the people who came to negotiate. Those were the people who could not enter. Even among the warrior class, only those who knocked on the door with nothing but themselves were let in.
"No! Those who are not prepared to be smeared in mud and be reborn, those lukewarm people who are satisfied with the present, have no qualification to enter the unit! And can I trust a human who cannot take pride in a single smear of mud or a single wound!!"
Therefore, at that time, the man... no, the nature of the unit was decided.
Eating mud, smeared in blood, yet taking pride in the wounds they gained and continuing to bloom honestly time and again... the Lotus Gang.
Yes.
If he broke here, if he fell just like this, he would be adding a wound to the wounds he took pride in.
That was unforgivable. It must not be forgiven. As a member of the gang, he must not let his life scatter for nothing.
His consciousness rebooted. Before he knew it, his hand reached for the sword at his waist.
And again, to live even now, to protect the place where he lives, he uttered the warning brought by the Savior.
"...In-fight until...!"
He stopped just as he was about to say the password.
No.
The Savior would surely desire the part beyond that. If he was a Savior who desired them to be reborn.
Therefore, if he were to continue...
"...you collapse!!"
He glared, spitting blood, at the enemy who was relieved that he had won.
The youth. Probably originally a farmer. The youthfulness of that face, the lack of wounds, made him realize that the youth was spoiled enough to have come without conviction, thinking that this battle would be easy.
Would he lose to such a person?
Would he be killed by such a person?
...No.
Not a chance.
His own life might be cheap. He was likely nothing more than a mob soldier who would die without a name.
However, those days smeared in mud, that day when he could take pride in it, and now, as he raised his spear with pride in his chest... it was by no means cheap.
He would absolutely never give it away for free.
The man grabbed the shaft of the spear piercing him and crushed it with grip strength alone.
In inverse proportion to the blood being lost, his heart grew hot. In his fingertips that were growing cold, a power dwelt like never before. The foot he stepped forward with became so sensitive that he could feel the grains of sand through his armor.
He pulled out the sword. The blade illuminated by the sunlight was as vivid as a lotus petal...
"...IIIIIIIN, FIGHTTTTTTT!!"
That silver flash sprinted brilliantly, just like his way of life.
●
"Hie...!"
At the same moment he recognized that the spear he had thrust was crushed, he noticed the flipping sword flash, and by then, it was too late for everything.
The world spun.
No, what was spinning was the youth's head.
In his final moments, only doubt passed through him. Why did the demon he should have killed still move? He recognized a part of it in the spinning world.
(It's... healing...?)
When the demon pulled the fragments of the thrust spear from his chest, the wound closed from that point. The youth had no way of knowing, but it was a part of Ludglyph's support magic.
Yes, as long as they did not die instantly, they would automatically recover, albeit slowly. However, they only recovered. There was pain. They could die from shock. In the first place, it could not even compensate for blood loss. Since it set things back while they were still broken, there was even a possibility that aftereffects would remain. An effect that merely postponed death. There had to be a risk.
But they accepted it desiringly, enduring the pain and suffering with loud laughter.
Thinking that it was nothing compared to the hardships of their lives until now.
(Mon... ster... no...)
The demon, still covered in wounds, raised his sword and let out a war cry. He cut down the youth's comrade who had been clinging in astonishment with a returning stroke and moved further forward. The youth, who had fallen to the ground as only a head, felt an emotion resembling longing as he looked at the back of the demon who still headed toward the battle in his fading consciousness.
(He... ro...)
And the youth learned at the moment of death.
That he had been defeated by the legends, the wounds, permitted only to the demons smeared in blood and mud.
Next time, tomorrow again.