The Villain Bought the Female Lead - Ch. 97
The army was marching towards Dortmund, led by the archbishop Ami.
Dortmund, which was already in turmoil due to the incidents surrounding Frikkanrisk and Craine, was now thrown into even greater chaos.
Though barely kept under control by the efforts of heroes, priests, and soldiers, there were many who had succumbed to panic or started hoarding supplies.
It was rare for an archbishop to strike a major city.
Though they were always beings that defied prediction or comprehension, historically speaking, such things did not happen often.
The enemy force numbered 3,500, a considerable number, though not enormous. What made them fearsome, however, was not just their strength but their terrifying ability to multiply—greater even than cockroaches.
The citizens were deeply afraid of the priest-level Altifes, creatures capable of using humans as vessels to breed their offspring.
There were even dark rumors spreading that six nearby villages had already fallen.
Inevitably, people had started prioritizing their families over the community, and themselves over their families.
The execution of Craine had been postponed due to the chaos, and he would be imprisoned in the Dortmund Church while the war unfolded.
I understood the urgency Frikkanrisk felt to carry out judgment on him, but this was not the time.
I, too, observed Dortmund’s war preparations in silence, studying the flow of the situation.
… thus, Dortmund’s church, facing an emergency, called for the Helion’s team. Finn and I answered the call.
“Dortmund is on the brink of an unprecedented crisis. Forces of evil reek of hatred and the stench of blood as they bare their ominous fangs in threat.”
Light, distorted by the colorful stained glass of the church’s towering ceiling, illuminated the interior.
The artwork depicted the massive and sacred Yggdrasil tree, guarded by heroes and the first mage, all rendered in lavish style.
Inside the church.
Dortmund’s heroes were lined up along the nave and aisles.
At the forefront, in front of the choir and altar, stood Helion and his team. Finn and I knelt beside them, listening intently.
The quiet but resolute voice of the head of the church, the Holy King, echoed through the church.
“Thus, I, the Holy King of Dortmund, St. Clement, issue a new command to Helion and his team.”
With a ceremonial strike of his Yggdrasil-engraved staff against the floor twice, the Holy King performed the ritual required before assigning a mission to a hero.
“Defend Dortmund from Archbishop Ami and his forces.”
The command was clear.
The orders from the Holy Kings of each diocese and the Holy Emperor at the heart of the central church were absolute. The heroes must obey without question.
In a state combining military and religion, this understanding was simple.
Helion and his team responded with short, concise words of acceptance. Heads still bowed; they showed no dissatisfaction with the order.
As war details and procedures were discussed, my name and Finn’s were called.
“Students Vargan Troa Schugenhartz and Finn Troa Toiren of the Academia, you must make a choice.”
It reminded me of the situation during Frikkanrisk.
This war, they said, was too dangerous for students who had not fully awakened their talents to participate. Losing lives with untapped potential would be a waste.
The Holy King posed a question.
Would we join this war or stand back.
He also mentioned Frikkanrisk.
“The young heroes have already done much for Dortmund, clearing the name of the Twelve Divine Beasts and revealing Craine’s wickedness. No one will blame our heroes if they choose to step back now.”
In short, there would be no disgrace if we chose not to participate. We could cultivate our talents for the future.
Moreover, it seemed that Finn and I would be rewarded when we returned to the central church for our contributions.
There would be no harm in staying out of this conflict and simply receiving the rewards.
But… how could I be satisfied with just that?
I had yet to obtain Ami’s Judgment Weapon.
And what kind of coward would flee from a battlefield where victory was assured? This was a chance to earn glory by following Helion.
The Holy King finished his question, and a brief silence followed.
It was our turn to respond.
My voice echoed, strong and clear.
“I, the third son of Schugenhartz, Vargan Troa Schugenhartz.”
I raised my head slightly, keeping the basic courtesy expected of a noble.
“I will fight in this battle for the glory of the church and Dortmund. I declare my intent.”
Of course, Finn followed suit.
***
After announcing our participation to the church, Finn and I followed Helion to the armory of the Dortmund Church.
While it wasn’t as large as Academia’s, the quality of the equipment was superior.
It was natural, since Academia only provided practice weapons.
As Finn gazed at the gleaming weapons, he asked Helion.
“Can we really take anything from here?”
“Yes, normally, you would go through a much more complex process, but due to the Frikkanrisk matter and your sudden involvement, we’re simplifying things.”
Though it was still only a loan, the church’s gesture of goodwill was clear.
For me, it wasn’t all that appealing. My companion, Whitey, already held various weapons, and I doubted anything here would be of use compared to the central church’s armory.
But for Finn, who had been carrying practice weapons from Academia, this was a decent opportunity.
“Hmmm.”
Finn and I examined the weapons, unsure of what to choose. Nothing truly caught my eye.
While the weapons were well-kept, they were inferior to what I already had at my disposal.
I didn’t need to look more when I hadn’t even used the things inside Whitey for training.
As I mused, Helion approached with a curious expression.
“Not finding anything to your liking?”
“To be honest, no. It’s hard to be interested in a loaned weapon.”
“Unfortunately, church weapons are public property unless they’ve been personally acquired by a hero. I can’t give them as gifts.”
“I understand. But there’s not much here that I would…”
My voice trailed off as my gaze settled on an old dagger.
Its condition was terrible.
While the other weapons shone as if freshly polished, this one looked like it had been pulled straight from a grave, with rust still clinging to it.
I picked up the dagger to examine it.
No army maintained all its weapons in perfect condition, but this was extreme. There had to be a reason for it.
Most likely, this was a relic imbued with a special power.
Perhaps cleaning it would disturb an enchantment, or maybe it was too fragile. No, if that were the case, it would be kept away from the air entirely.
In any case, if this were just a regular rusty weapon, the church wouldn’t have bothered storing it, so it had to be a relic of some sort.
“Quite a peculiar choice.”
As I infused it with a trace of mana to analyze it, Helion asked about my interest. He seemed to enjoy watching my every move.
“I’m curious about its properties.”
“Don’t get your hopes up too high. If it weren’t stored separately, then at most, it’s a third-grade relic.”
He was right.
If it were something rare or valuable, it wouldn’t be so easily available for loan. I wasn’t expecting much, just satisfying my curiosity.
As I sent a small pulse of mana through it, the results returned.
As expected, it was a third-grade relic with a limited supply of mana. It would only last a few more uses before breaking.
Its effect… ah, it helped to dispel curses.
“It seems like something Student Vargan wouldn’t need.”
“That’s true, but…”
Sensing my hesitation, Helion raised an eyebrow.
“Is that the one you want?”
“The number of uses is extremely limited, but its output is considerable. If only it had more mana, this relic could have ranked higher.”
It was a consumable relic, and I couldn’t recharge its mana.
I had used something similar—the magic ring—when we took down Zagan. That, too, had been a consumable relic. Its effects were strong but finite.
I asked Helion.
“What happens if a borrowed weapon breaks due to unforeseen circumstances?”
“It depends on the situation, but most of the time, they let it slide. Especially when fighting the Altifes.”
Helion had picked up on my intention to use this relic and responded candidly. He wouldn’t lie about such a matter.
“Then I’ll take this dagger.”
Even if it broke during the upcoming battle.
***
On the snowy slopes outside Dortmund, Frikkanrisk, the Winter Dragon, gazed down upon the lands where a bloody storm of war was about to begin.
The scene could have been a painting: a beautiful young woman standing barefoot on the snow, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
“Ami…”
Her delicate features twisted in a grimace as she spoke the name of the one leading the Altifes in their approach.
The voice, deeply laced with anger, harbored a desire to fly over at any moment and sever his neck.
But it was impossible.
Even as one of the Twelve Divine Beasts, her strength alone was insufficient. Moreover, such a unilateral action would violate the terms of the Cardinal’s contract with Vargan.
“……”
Her thoughts drifted back to the day she entered into that contract with Vargan.
-I will help you get your revenge.
That human had said.
She had been too bewildered to even get angry, wondering what this ignorant human was talking about.
The name he called out, Iris.
He knew her true name.
That fact alone made it impossible to underestimate this man named Vargan.
For a brief moment, she wondered if Aintern had revealed her true name while alive. But the human quickly denied that.
-As you well know, your husband Aintern was not a man of loose tongue. What happened with Craine is unfortunate, but wasn’t it Craine who behaved rudely?
How much did he know?
How did he know?
He gave off the impression of opposing Craine, but could they secretly be on the same side?
As if reading her thoughts, he spoke again. He was a human who excelled at reading expressions.
-I know the future.
What?
He knew the future?
Then could this crafty human be a saint?
She had seen and heard of many saints over the ages, but she listened as he continued, visualizing his words in her mind.
-There have always been two saints at any given time. The church has never revealed all the saints publicly to avoid diminishing their stature, but there have always been two.
Though the world believed that only one or sometimes two saints emerged, this was not entirely true.
There were always two saints.
If one died or lost their powers, there could be a period of a few years of vacancy, but it was almost a rule that two saints would always appear.
However, contrary to common belief, the power of sainthood did not necessarily descend upon devout individuals dedicated to the church.
It was also said that receiving the church’s baptism was a prerequisite for awakening the power of sainthood, but that was also false.
Sometimes, a back-alley thug might receive this power, or even a notorious murderer.
Thus, when unworthy individuals were granted this power, the church either killed them or allowed them to operate in the shadows if they were deemed useful.
Currently, only the saint Diphelia was publicly known.
But she considered the possibility that another saint might be quietly active somewhere.
-I intend to save you.
He claimed to have seen her grim future and had stepped forward to prevent it. He said he had witnessed the moment Aintern spoke her true name.
She was skeptical.
However, this man was so persuasive that listening to him naturally led her to nod, and she began to see a glimmer of hope.
His thoughts, as reflected in her mind, did not seem to harbor lies either. If he had been lying, no matter how skilled he was, the background of his thoughts would have been darkened, but it was not.
He had gently probed into her hidden wounds and offered a cure, holding out the medicine.
Even after writing her true name in the Cardinal’s contract, no—even now, she couldn’t completely erase her doubts.
But she decided to trust the validity of the contract, not the human.
She couldn’t stand the sight of the followers of the Goddess Church, but the Cardinal’s power was real.
Even with the power of the Twelve Divine Beasts or her mastery of curses, violating the contract would result in swift, instant death.
Through the contract with Beleth, they would collaborate to achieve their respective goals. What she demanded in return were two conditions.
The rescue and protection of her child.
The authority to punish Craine.
These were her two conditions. But he, as a token of trust, had also promised to clear her name, and he had done so with ease.
…….
For some reason, an uneasy feeling lingered, as if she had made a pact with a devil.
Even if everything went smoothly from here on, it felt like destruction awaited at the end.
But.
Even so.
“… if I can protect my child.”
He had fulfilled his part of the contract.
Now, it was her turn.
As her memories came to an end, Frikkanrisk’s exterior began to change.
The beautiful woman she had been transformed into a dragon clad in icy armor, spreading enormous wings.
The Dragon of Winter.
The true form of Frikkanrisk, one of the Twelve Divine Beasts.
Her magnificent wings stretched wide, stirring up the wind.
Glide.
With one powerful beat of her wings, a snowstorm erupted from the place where she had stood below.
She steadied herself once more.
The mighty dragon was heading to the battlefield.