Deathworm.
One of the remnants of a fallen dragon.
A monster that usually resides underground and only surfaces occasionally to breathe.
Despite its enormous and horrifying appearance, its basic sustenance is the earth's energy, derived from minerals and fertile soil underground.
"Something's wrong! Deathworms are not supposed to eat flesh."
However, what was unfolding right in front defied the common wisdom of the world.
Hiiiiing.
Kwah wah wah wah!
Wild horses scatter in all directions as the Deathworms attack.
The pitiful cries of the horses are consumed by the sticky blood.
The viscous body of the Deathworm, stained with blood, seemed corrosive.
"...Everyone on horses!"
After assessing the situation, Rutiger shouted to his knights.
Whether the situation before him was unusual or not wasn't the point.
What matters is that you are where you should be, doing what you should do.
That is the duty of those who have been given a mission.
"Protect the pilgrims! They must be rescued!"
Before Rutiger could finish his sentence, the knights moved with horrifying speed, and Vlad swiftly rode to the top of the dalguzi.
"Charge!"
"Charge! Follow Lord Rutiger!"
At Rutiger's command, Bayezid's knights began to gallop down the green hill.
To the hellish scene below, dyed red by the blood of the wild horses.
To save the pilgrims, who were terrified and defenseless.
The hooves of the knights' horses echoed vertiginously over the green and peaceful meadows, blending with the cries of the Deathworms.
For this moment, which he didn't know would happen, Fether had sent his son.
The safe haven of Gazo, prepared for any eventuality, now shone like the Bayezid banner fluttering atop a mast.
"...He's very young, only a few days old!"
Dorothea hadn't stopped to observe the Deathworm as she galloped on horseback.
She knew exactly what her role was.
"It's not big enough, and its skin hasn't hardened yet!"
Dorothea's shout made Rutiger turn his head to look at the Deathworm.
The Deathworm, which continued to chew and devour the horse corpses without pause, wasn't as large as she had said, and, more importantly, it had pink, unhardened skin.
It was a young individual who hadn't developed the Deathworm's characteristic of having a tough shell.
"..."
While Rutiger rode on horseback and checked the situation, Vlad observed from his perch in the changing lunar landscape.
The only difference between him and Dorothea was that, instead of Deathworms, the boy was watching a herd of wild horses screaming.
[I sense a spirit, they are not ordinary horses.]
"Spirits..."
The white serpent he saw in Deirmar.
Vlad's mind returned to the being that had granted him the favor.
[I will show you my world.]
"Okay."
A loud noise drowned out the boy's faint response.
"After..."
The boy lowered his posture as if praying and closed his right eye.
"..."
He opened his left eye to the world of voices.
Heeeeeeeee-!
A world of vivid colors.
The world of the voice, which seemed to have a hundred colors more than the boy's world, reflected the figures of the horses.
A herd of wild horses, devoured and trampled, falling to the ground.
White smoke like mist rose from the neighing horses.
"What is that?"
Glowing white smoke.
But it's so pale that it forms nothing, disperses, and dies.
Vlad didn't know why, but he felt sorry for them.
[Look at the black horse.]
'...'
Following the voice's advice, Vlad turned to look at the jet-black horse that had just made eye contact with him.
It strutted as if it were the leader of the pack, trying to attract the Deathworm's attention.
But despite its pitiful gestures, the Deathworm didn't even look at it, just feasting on the sweet flesh.
Vlad bit his lip as the scene echoed his.
"Horns?"
said the voice, and when Vlad turned to look, he saw them.
For the other horses, it was just a fine mist, but for him, it was a shape.
[I think there is some kind of blood in those horses.]
White horns.
In the middle of the forehead of the black horse was a white horn that floated like the moon.
The scent of lemons from the day wafted in the boy's armor as he stared at the faint horn.
***
"And that?"
Dorothea’s gaze caught something as she galloped on horseback.
Something that shone on the forehead of the young Deathworm.
An odd energy emanated from it, detectable only by a mage.
The young deathworm responded to it.
“Lord Rutiger! The deathworm is awake!”
“Pilgrims! It’s looking at the pilgrims!”
“…Damn it!”
Suddenly.
Time is running out.
Rutiger’s black eyes emitted a sharp gleam.
“Dorothea, what are the deathworms reacting to?”
As a man of the mission and leader of the group, Rutiger was obligated to use his best judgment.
“The deathworm has no eyes or ears; it can only sense ground vibrations.”
“Find a way to lure that thing. Dorothea!”
With a quick hand gesture, Rutiger divided the group of knights into two, and with only a handful of knights leading them, he rushed to the area where the Deathworm was.
“Dismount, we’re running out of horses!”
At the knights’ shouts, Portly and Vlad quickly surrendered their transport.
They were right to do so.
The pilgrims would have no way out of this situation without the knights’ help.
But with a speed that not even the wild horses could match, the Deathworm would not release its targets once it had them.
Rutiger had to address two issues simultaneously.
Kaaaaaah-!
The young Deathworm, which had been savoring the corpses of the wild horses, leaned toward the pilgrims with something shining on its forehead.
The wild horses were fleeing, and the pilgrims were in front of them.
Everything the Deathworm wanted—or anyone wanted—was there, in front of it.
Kaaaaaah-!
With a wild roar, the Deathworm leaped toward the pilgrims.
“Damn it, why!”
“Run!”
I wonder why the Deathworm, which moments ago was devouring the wild horses, suddenly becomes interested in the pilgrims in front of it.
But right now, it’s more urgent to resolve the situation than to analyze the consequences.
“Now!”
At Rutiger’s command, the knights charged against the Deathworm.
While the knights mingled with the herd of wild horses and tried to stop the advance of the Deathworm, Rutiger silently fumed with rage.
Common sense was being challenged, and the situation was taking a strange turn.
Surely there must be some artificial problem that had created this situation.
“How dare you in my father’s land…”
The prestigious Bayezid of the North.
The knight who had inherited his blood entirely closed his left eye.
***
In the distance, he could see the knights approaching the group of pilgrims, but it seemed there were too many horses to move at once.
"We're in trouble!"
"....."
Vlad and Portly, who had been stripped of their horses and halters, protected Dorothea and watched the situation from the hillside.
"Blondie and Chubby, distract the worm!"
Dorothea's voice sounded behind them as they moved slightly.
Now she was crouched on the ground, creating a trace that would allow her to induce the Deathworm, as Rutiger had said.
"Vibration, vibration, vibration, what color was that trace..."
Small bottles spilled onto the ground.
They were bottles containing paint and other things, as if a painter were about to paint a picture.
Dorothea moved them, preparing her magic.
With every tremor of her lips as she sang softly, with every touch of her careful hand grabbing a vial, the vials on the ground shone, seeking their own colors.
Kwagagaga!
"What the hell!"
Heat seized Vlad's face, who had been watching their preparations for a while.
A fierce heat that seemed to come from afar.
An island of intensely condensed flames burned the air around it, along with the Deathworm.
"Lord Rutiger!"
Portly raised a hand in surprise at the intensity of the impulse that had reached them, but Vlad could only stare in astonishment at the force threatening to set his world on fire.
It was a world far removed from his own.
[It's superficial. It wasn't prepared.]
But the young Deathworm, even though it didn't have a tough outer shell yet, was tenaciously enduring.
Kaaaaaah-!
Thud-thud-thud!
Rutiger's powerful blows only made it release a monotonous cry and hastily burrow into the ground.
At least, it was young enough to make even a small wound, which was quite an achievement.
[It's strong; even the best knight would be unable to face an enemy on the ground.]
Apparently, Rutiger's blow was not enough to neutralize the Deathworm at once.
A moment of silence.
And then stillness.
Not a single thing moves on this vast plain.
Thud, thud, thud.
Suddenly, the ground rumbled and began to crack.
The gradual crack heads toward.
"Damn!"
"Follow me!"
Where the pilgrims are.
At the same time, it was also where the wild horses that had fled were exhaling their exhaustion.
"Dorothea..."
"Why!"
"I need to do this quickly."
Vlad, who had been observing the situation from the top of a hill, realized that Rutiger's work would not be enough to resolve the situation.
"It's almost here!"
"If it's almost here, I'll move."
Vlad turned his head and looked back.
"I said wait!"
There was Dorothea, smearing her tail with a strange paint color and leaving a trace on a piece of paper.
"...Are you using your tail?"
"It's the Sioux way!"
For a boy who had never seen a magician perform their magic, it was a scene that could only be described as fascinating.
"That's it!"
Dorothea lifted a piece of paper the size of her palm, as if she had finally finished.
The trace glowed for a moment in the sunlight and then regained its color.
"You can give it to Lord Rutiger. He'll use it to rub or cut the paper against an object, like a sword."
[It's too late.]
But the crack that the Deathworm was creating was already heading directly towards the pilgrims.
In the distance, herds of wild horses fleeing and the knights carrying the priests were rushing urgently.
"I think we're too late..."
"Get on my horse!"
At Dorothea's words, Vlad turned his head to look at Portly.
"What are you waiting for, do it!"
Dorothea was exhausted from the sudden burst of engravings, and Vlad was unable to mount his horse.
Given the circumstances, the only person who could have delivered the paper to Rutiger would have been Portly.
[It's too late to ride a horse; you can't assume that an underground Deathworm has the same speed as a Deathworm above ground.]
"I'll be late even if I go now."
Dorothea did what she could, but the given time was too short.
So she couldn't be blamed.
"What can I do!"
Dorothea, crouched on the ground, her blue lips trembling.
"That..."
Vlad knew.
That there was only one way to get the paper to Rutiger in time for the Deathworm to pursue it.
"I'll go."
"You can't ride a horse, can you?"
Vlad moistened his lips with his tongue and headed.
In the opposite direction the knights had taken.
Tsk-tsk-.
The rock that had been hit by the tip rolled down with a loud crash.
It wasn't a cliff, but it was a hill with a deadly angle.
It was a steep hill that no horse could manage to descend.
"It's the only way," he said, "so it's a gamble."
Vlad had never been caught stealing as a child.
He was elusive by nature, but he knew it wasn't like that.
"If we go down here, we'll make it in time."
That the fastest way to a goal is a straight line.
Not a single guard caught Vlad as he ran through the streets, over the walls, and through the shops.
And the same would happen now.
"It's almost a cliff here!"
"Complain later."
The blonde-haired boy grabbed Dorothea's imprint as if he wanted to snatch it away.
"I really didn't want to not take the peanuts that day."
Unable to finish the sentence, the blonde-haired boy's hair swayed down the dizzying slope.
"Hey!"
Dorothea peeked down the hill to find Vlad, who had disappeared into the air.
"Uh..."
There was the figure of a boy running down the steep slope as if he had wings.
"I heard you can't ride..."
A top prospect, watched and sponsored by the Bayezid family.
The imprint Dorothea left emitted a white glow in the hands of the blonde-haired boy.
***
[Sloooowly! Sloooowly! On tiptoes!]
"It's too noisy and distracting!"
Taking Dorothea's imprint, Vlad headed towards the almost vertical hill.
It was a move he had learned to make with his life, like a child who could die tomorrow if he didn't eat today.
I hope you don't have to go out like this.
In the first place, Rutiger is the one at odds with Joseph for the position of Patriarch.
Moreover, all the knights here were among the highest-ranking members of House Bayezid, so there was no need for a mere squire to go to such extremes.
But Vlad wanted to do it.
First, he wanted to attack Rutiger's knights for ignoring him and Joseph.
The second was for the black-haired horse, who was trying to protect the herd from the disastrous attack of the Deathworm.
The subject of animals makes me sick.
Vlad was aware of it.
He knew what it was like for a vast and untouchable world to destroy your home.
The helplessness of that day was like a deep wound in the boy's soul.
Hating not being anything, he ran down the hill, defending his actions to himself.
"Ugh!"
He thought for a moment.
The slightest misstep, and Vlad slid down the steep slope.
[Dodge!]
"Ugh! Ugh!"
The boy rolled down the hill shouting.
But despite rolling violently over the rough terrain and colliding with rocks, Vlad seemed strangely indifferent.
If the boy had opened his left eye and looked into the world of voices, he would have realized that his armor was now glowing white.
The white snake protected him.
"......"
And at the foot of the hill, there was someone else watching the glow that the boy couldn't see.
The black-haired horse panting and running to save the herd.
To the horse's eyes, the boy shone white.
A bright and white star.
A star burning in white light, falling down the hill.
In the world of the black horse, he saw a white light, reflecting the boy.
A white star submerged in the moonless night.
Deathworm.
One of the remnants of a fallen dragon.
A monster that usually resides underground and only surfaces occasionally to breathe.
Despite its enormous and horrifying appearance, its basic sustenance is the earth's energy, derived from minerals and fertile soil underground.
"Something's wrong! Deathworms are not supposed to eat flesh."
However, what was unfolding right in front defied the common wisdom of the world.
Hiiiiing.
Kwah wah wah wah!
Wild horses scatter in all directions as the Deathworms attack.
The pitiful cries of the horses are consumed by the sticky blood.
The viscous body of the Deathworm, stained with blood, seemed corrosive.
"...Everyone on horses!"
After assessing the situation, Rutiger shouted to his knights.
Whether the situation before him was unusual or not wasn't the point.
What matters is that you are where you should be, doing what you should do.
That is the duty of those who have been given a mission.
"Protect the pilgrims! They must be rescued!"
Before Rutiger could finish his sentence, the knights moved with horrifying speed, and Vlad swiftly rode to the top of the dalguzi.
"Charge!"
"Charge! Follow Lord Rutiger!"
At Rutiger's command, Bayezid's knights began to gallop down the green hill.
To the hellish scene below, dyed red by the blood of the wild horses.
To save the pilgrims, who were terrified and defenseless.
The hooves of the knights' horses echoed vertiginously over the green and peaceful meadows, blending with the cries of the Deathworms.
For this moment, which he didn't know would happen, Fether had sent his son.
The safe haven of Gazo, prepared for any eventuality, now shone like the Bayezid banner fluttering atop a mast.
"...He's very young, only a few days old!"
Dorothea hadn't stopped to observe the Deathworm as she galloped on horseback.
She knew exactly what her role was.
"It's not big enough, and its skin hasn't hardened yet!"
Dorothea's shout made Rutiger turn his head to look at the Deathworm.
The Deathworm, which continued to chew and devour the horse corpses without pause, wasn't as large as she had said, and, more importantly, it had pink, unhardened skin.
It was a young individual who hadn't developed the Deathworm's characteristic of having a tough shell.
"..."
While Rutiger rode on horseback and checked the situation, Vlad observed from his perch in the changing lunar landscape.
The only difference between him and Dorothea was that, instead of Deathworms, the boy was watching a herd of wild horses screaming.
[I sense a spirit, they are not ordinary horses.]
"Spirits..."
The white serpent he saw in Deirmar.
Vlad's mind returned to the being that had granted him the favor.
[I will show you my world.]
"Okay."
A loud noise drowned out the boy's faint response.
"After..."
The boy lowered his posture as if praying and closed his right eye.
"..."
He opened his left eye to the world of voices.
Heeeeeeeee-!
A world of vivid colors.
The world of the voice, which seemed to have a hundred colors more than the boy's world, reflected the figures of the horses.
A herd of wild horses, devoured and trampled, falling to the ground.
White smoke like mist rose from the neighing horses.
"What is that?"
Glowing white smoke.
But it's so pale that it forms nothing, disperses, and dies.
Vlad didn't know why, but he felt sorry for them.
[Look at the black horse.]
'...'
Following the voice's advice, Vlad turned to look at the jet-black horse that had just made eye contact with him.
It strutted as if it were the leader of the pack, trying to attract the Deathworm's attention.
But despite its pitiful gestures, the Deathworm didn't even look at it, just feasting on the sweet flesh.
Vlad bit his lip as the scene echoed his.
"Horns?"
said the voice, and when Vlad turned to look, he saw them.
For the other horses, it was just a fine mist, but for him, it was a shape.
[I think there is some kind of blood in those horses.]
White horns.
In the middle of the forehead of the black horse was a white horn that floated like the moon.
The scent of lemons from the day wafted in the boy's armor as he stared at the faint horn.
***
"And that?"
Dorothea’s gaze caught something as she galloped on horseback.
Something that shone on the forehead of the young Deathworm.
An odd energy emanated from it, detectable only by a mage.
The young deathworm responded to it.
“Lord Rutiger! The deathworm is awake!”
“Pilgrims! It’s looking at the pilgrims!”
“…Damn it!”
Suddenly.
Time is running out.
Rutiger’s black eyes emitted a sharp gleam.
“Dorothea, what are the deathworms reacting to?”
As a man of the mission and leader of the group, Rutiger was obligated to use his best judgment.
“The deathworm has no eyes or ears; it can only sense ground vibrations.”
“Find a way to lure that thing. Dorothea!”
With a quick hand gesture, Rutiger divided the group of knights into two, and with only a handful of knights leading them, he rushed to the area where the Deathworm was.
“Dismount, we’re running out of horses!”
At the knights’ shouts, Portly and Vlad quickly surrendered their transport.
They were right to do so.
The pilgrims would have no way out of this situation without the knights’ help.
But with a speed that not even the wild horses could match, the Deathworm would not release its targets once it had them.
Rutiger had to address two issues simultaneously.
Kaaaaaah-!
The young Deathworm, which had been savoring the corpses of the wild horses, leaned toward the pilgrims with something shining on its forehead.
The wild horses were fleeing, and the pilgrims were in front of them.
Everything the Deathworm wanted—or anyone wanted—was there, in front of it.
Kaaaaaah-!
With a wild roar, the Deathworm leaped toward the pilgrims.
“Damn it, why!”
“Run!”
I wonder why the Deathworm, which moments ago was devouring the wild horses, suddenly becomes interested in the pilgrims in front of it.
But right now, it’s more urgent to resolve the situation than to analyze the consequences.
“Now!”
At Rutiger’s command, the knights charged against the Deathworm.
While the knights mingled with the herd of wild horses and tried to stop the advance of the Deathworm, Rutiger silently fumed with rage.
Common sense was being challenged, and the situation was taking a strange turn.
Surely there must be some artificial problem that had created this situation.
“How dare you in my father’s land…”
The prestigious Bayezid of the North.
The knight who had inherited his blood entirely closed his left eye.
***
In the distance, he could see the knights approaching the group of pilgrims, but it seemed there were too many horses to move at once.
"We're in trouble!"
"....."
Vlad and Portly, who had been stripped of their horses and halters, protected Dorothea and watched the situation from the hillside.
"Blondie and Chubby, distract the worm!"
Dorothea's voice sounded behind them as they moved slightly.
Now she was crouched on the ground, creating a trace that would allow her to induce the Deathworm, as Rutiger had said.
"Vibration, vibration, vibration, what color was that trace..."
Small bottles spilled onto the ground.
They were bottles containing paint and other things, as if a painter were about to paint a picture.
Dorothea moved them, preparing her magic.
With every tremor of her lips as she sang softly, with every touch of her careful hand grabbing a vial, the vials on the ground shone, seeking their own colors.
Kwagagaga!
"What the hell!"
Heat seized Vlad's face, who had been watching their preparations for a while.
A fierce heat that seemed to come from afar.
An island of intensely condensed flames burned the air around it, along with the Deathworm.
"Lord Rutiger!"
Portly raised a hand in surprise at the intensity of the impulse that had reached them, but Vlad could only stare in astonishment at the force threatening to set his world on fire.
It was a world far removed from his own.
[It's superficial. It wasn't prepared.]
But the young Deathworm, even though it didn't have a tough outer shell yet, was tenaciously enduring.
Kaaaaaah-!
Thud-thud-thud!
Rutiger's powerful blows only made it release a monotonous cry and hastily burrow into the ground.
At least, it was young enough to make even a small wound, which was quite an achievement.
[It's strong; even the best knight would be unable to face an enemy on the ground.]
Apparently, Rutiger's blow was not enough to neutralize the Deathworm at once.
A moment of silence.
And then stillness.
Not a single thing moves on this vast plain.
Thud, thud, thud.
Suddenly, the ground rumbled and began to crack.
The gradual crack heads toward.
"Damn!"
"Follow me!"
Where the pilgrims are.
At the same time, it was also where the wild horses that had fled were exhaling their exhaustion.
"Dorothea..."
"Why!"
"I need to do this quickly."
Vlad, who had been observing the situation from the top of a hill, realized that Rutiger's work would not be enough to resolve the situation.
"It's almost here!"
"If it's almost here, I'll move."
Vlad turned his head and looked back.
"I said wait!"
There was Dorothea, smearing her tail with a strange paint color and leaving a trace on a piece of paper.
"...Are you using your tail?"
"It's the Sioux way!"
For a boy who had never seen a magician perform their magic, it was a scene that could only be described as fascinating.
"That's it!"
Dorothea lifted a piece of paper the size of her palm, as if she had finally finished.
The trace glowed for a moment in the sunlight and then regained its color.
"You can give it to Lord Rutiger. He'll use it to rub or cut the paper against an object, like a sword."
[It's too late.]
But the crack that the Deathworm was creating was already heading directly towards the pilgrims.
In the distance, herds of wild horses fleeing and the knights carrying the priests were rushing urgently.
"I think we're too late..."
"Get on my horse!"
At Dorothea's words, Vlad turned his head to look at Portly.
"What are you waiting for, do it!"
Dorothea was exhausted from the sudden burst of engravings, and Vlad was unable to mount his horse.
Given the circumstances, the only person who could have delivered the paper to Rutiger would have been Portly.
[It's too late to ride a horse; you can't assume that an underground Deathworm has the same speed as a Deathworm above ground.]
"I'll be late even if I go now."
Dorothea did what she could, but the given time was too short.
So she couldn't be blamed.
"What can I do!"
Dorothea, crouched on the ground, her blue lips trembling.
"That..."
Vlad knew.
That there was only one way to get the paper to Rutiger in time for the Deathworm to pursue it.
"I'll go."
"You can't ride a horse, can you?"
Vlad moistened his lips with his tongue and headed.
In the opposite direction the knights had taken.
Tsk-tsk-.
The rock that had been hit by the tip rolled down with a loud crash.
It wasn't a cliff, but it was a hill with a deadly angle.
It was a steep hill that no horse could manage to descend.
"It's the only way," he said, "so it's a gamble."
Vlad had never been caught stealing as a child.
He was elusive by nature, but he knew it wasn't like that.
"If we go down here, we'll make it in time."
That the fastest way to a goal is a straight line.
Not a single guard caught Vlad as he ran through the streets, over the walls, and through the shops.
And the same would happen now.
"It's almost a cliff here!"
"Complain later."
The blonde-haired boy grabbed Dorothea's imprint as if he wanted to snatch it away.
"I really didn't want to not take the peanuts that day."
Unable to finish the sentence, the blonde-haired boy's hair swayed down the dizzying slope.
"Hey!"
Dorothea peeked down the hill to find Vlad, who had disappeared into the air.
"Uh..."
There was the figure of a boy running down the steep slope as if he had wings.
"I heard you can't ride..."
A top prospect, watched and sponsored by the Bayezid family.
The imprint Dorothea left emitted a white glow in the hands of the blonde-haired boy.
***
[Sloooowly! Sloooowly! On tiptoes!]
"It's too noisy and distracting!"
Taking Dorothea's imprint, Vlad headed towards the almost vertical hill.
It was a move he had learned to make with his life, like a child who could die tomorrow if he didn't eat today.
I hope you don't have to go out like this.
In the first place, Rutiger is the one at odds with Joseph for the position of Patriarch.
Moreover, all the knights here were among the highest-ranking members of House Bayezid, so there was no need for a mere squire to go to such extremes.
But Vlad wanted to do it.
First, he wanted to attack Rutiger's knights for ignoring him and Joseph.
The second was for the black-haired horse, who was trying to protect the herd from the disastrous attack of the Deathworm.
The subject of animals makes me sick.
Vlad was aware of it.
He knew what it was like for a vast and untouchable world to destroy your home.
The helplessness of that day was like a deep wound in the boy's soul.
Hating not being anything, he ran down the hill, defending his actions to himself.
"Ugh!"
He thought for a moment.
The slightest misstep, and Vlad slid down the steep slope.
[Dodge!]
"Ugh! Ugh!"
The boy rolled down the hill shouting.
But despite rolling violently over the rough terrain and colliding with rocks, Vlad seemed strangely indifferent.
If the boy had opened his left eye and looked into the world of voices, he would have realized that his armor was now glowing white.
The white snake protected him.
"......"
And at the foot of the hill, there was someone else watching the glow that the boy couldn't see.
The black-haired horse panting and running to save the herd.
To the horse's eyes, the boy shone white.
A bright and white star.
A star burning in white light, falling down the hill.
In the world of the black horse, he saw a white light, reflecting the boy.
A white star submerged in the moonless night.
