Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World As A Paladin 5 Chapter 26: Blood Mountain

After Siegfried left, Leon and the others huddled around the campfire, seeking warmth. Although ecstatic due to their rewards, both Gerald and Silvian couldn't help be precipitate in agitation. Leon was their friend, and they knew exactly what Blood Mountain represented. Perhaps, only n.o.bles would ever truly understand the fearsome reputation that it had garnered over the years.

Leon noticed their strange att.i.tude. In fact, he was also aware of the peculiar way Siegfried stared at him as well. As such, it was only after asking a few questions regarding Blood Mountain that he understood their anxiety.

To put it plainly, Blood Mountain was a prison. Located in the West, it was enclosed by a belt of mountains. Due to the natural heat that the terrain exuded, the earth took on a red hue. Furthermore, steam steadily rose into the sky, impairing vision and making it even more difficult to leave. No animals willingly lived in such a land, so there was no food for hundreds of kilometers. Even if one of the prisoners managed to escape, they'd soon die to starvation.

Upon further probing, Leon figured out why both Silvian and Gerald were worried. The Empire regularly executed those who committed atrocities, but the prisoners in Blood Mountain were either high in social cla.s.s or knew many things. A guard's job was not only to defend the prisoners, but to acquire information as well. This also meant that there was constant interaction between both guards and prisoners.

Individually, this wouldn't normally cause a problem. However, the captain of Blood Mountain was the only one with the ability to throw his authority around. As such, in the past, they were often lynched by their very own guards. After all, with so much knowledge and interaction with prisoners, surely they weren't greatest of folk either. Not to mention, only the captain was allowed pa.s.sage into terminal zero, which was where the five deadliest criminals resided.

Stroking his beard, Leon gazed upon the starry sky. "Why would Ralkor send me there?" He asked, to which both Gerald and Silvian shook their heads.

"The old commander is impossible to understand..." Gerald grumbled, shrugging his shoulders.

Sighing, Leon slapped his leg and stood up. "Well, there's no sense in thinking about the past," he announced. "What are you guys planning on doing upon arrival as Sul'Tharra?" He inquired, grabbing a nearby flagon and taking a sip. Unlike Ralkor, Siegfried allowed his soldiers to drink during the night.

Tapping his chin, Gerald was the first to answer. "Well, I'm going to go back home and enjoy the serene atmosphere," he replied. "Then, because I completed the task my father sent out for me, I'll be learning the basics of magic."

"Oh? I thought only elves and like could cast magic?" Leon questioned.
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Unbothered by Leon's line of questioning, Gerald nodded his head. "For the most part, you're correct. Only elves can cast magic from adolescence. However, humans can still learn certain forms of magic, depending on their lineage."

"Ralkor once talked about awakening one's bloodline. Are they the same concept?" Leon asked once again, stroking his beard. He hadn't read a single book in this world, nor was he a n.o.ble with access to unlimited information. Everything that he knew was second-hand knowledge garnered from Gerald, Henry, and Ralkor.

"They are similar, but they are not the same," Gerald clarified. "Awakening a bloodline is like receiving an ancestor's direct influence. However, if one of your ancestors happened to possess an Arcanist bloodline, then it'd be possible to allow mana into your meridians. This is what it means to be backed by a powerful lineage."

Leon was going to continue asking questions, but he decided against it. Glancing up, the sun was already beginning to once again rise. "Thank you for telling me all of these things," Leon nodded, bidding Gerald, Silvian, and Henry a good night's rest.

He stood up from the hard ground and waltzed into his pitched tent, where he then sat on a thick blanket. Bringing out a match, he lit up a nearby candle and pulled out a piece of fabric from his pocket. Using his calloused hands to unravel it, a writhing piece of flesh soon entered into his line of sight. It was the same one he had excavated from the crater.

Repulsive in nature, Leon couldn't help but scrunch up his nose as he poked it. According to his side-quest, he was supposed to study it and comprehend its origins. Nonetheless, when gazing upon it, there was nothing that came to mind. It wasn't like Leon was a mad scientist of some sort. There was not a single thing that came to mind.

Grasping it between his fingers, Leon hovered the flesh over the candle's flame. There wasn't much of a reaction, and it was thick enough not to be burned immediately. Though, it did become hotter to the touch. Intrigued by this discovery, Leon unsheathed his blade and began poking it.

"Wow, this is much tougher than I thought!" Leon grumbled in shock, stomping on the so-called corruption.

He was gentle with it at first, but over time, Leon was thinking of more and more ways to "injure" the piece of flesh. Stabbing it, stomping on it, burning it, drowning it in a basin of water. Yet, no matter what he did, it did not seem to budge in the slightest.

Gasping for breath, Leon wiped the sweat off his forehead and observed the struggling piece of corruption. It was about the size of two fingernails, and the width of a finger. Unlike the monster that they had fought before, it was not crawling with miasma, nor did it seem baleful. To test things further, Leon had even decided to use Light's Embrace on it.

A bright light escaped from Leon's index finger, entering into the flesh. This time, there was finally a reaction. Contorting more than ever, it actually seemed to wiggle in pain. Finally noticing a change, Leon s.a.d.i.s.tically casted Light's Embrace once again. This time, it spasmed, and a piece of it fell off.

Chuckling darkly, Leon soon concluded that his cla.s.s was indeed the greatest when it came to combatting evil. Rewrapping it up in a piece of fabric, Leon tucked it into his pockets and blew out the candle. There were still many answers to be had, but they would be found out on another day. For now, Leon was content with his most recent breakthrough.

...

On the next morning, a chilly breeze swept into Leon's tent, abruptly waking him up. Nostrils flaring, he smelled the aromatic scent of some stew and eggs. "Siegfried and his men sure do wake up early..." Leon grumbled, ripping the covers off his body.

When on duty, soldiers did not sleep in their pajamas, nor did they rest in nude. Without a shower in sight, and due to the off-chance of a raid during the night, they were supposed to always be on guard. Because of this, their smell wasn't delightful. Of course, some men brought barrels to heat water and bathe into.

Leon was not among these men. Already used to his odor, Leon got out of bed and wrapped the blanket around his torso. Afterward, he stepped out of his tent and straightened his back. A good portion of soldiers had already packed up their tents and belongings, and some were still indulging in breakfast.

Catching sight of Gerald, Leon walked over. "When do we depart?" He asked, placing his hand onto the blonde-haired youth's shoulder.

Glancing back, Gerald chuckled at Leon's disheveled state. "We'll be leaving in an hour. Get some food in your stomach. Feed those muscles of yours!" He teased.

After speaking thus far, Gerald pushed a bowl of stew into Leon's hands. "I saved some grub for you. I saw you light a candle in your tent last night, so I figured you'd be waking up late." Gerald smiled, slapping Leon on the back.

Thanking him with a nod of his head, Leon ate the stale soup with relish. Then, just as Gerald had said, they left the camp an hour later. Their destination was a crossroads just a week away from Sul'tharra. Once there, Leon would part ways with the rest of the group. He was not given any vacation time like the rest, and his destination was Westward. Therefore, it'd be some time before he stepped foot into Sul'tharra.

They traveled along a s.p.a.cious road. The horses were fed, and the carriages were just slightly b.u.mpy. They would camp during the night, march in the day, and jog in the afternoon. At evening, they'd spar with each other, eat food, or play cards. Siegfried was a very lazy commander, and let his troops do as they pleased.

Unlike on the trip toward Bloodthorn Forest, they were not met with any of the undead. Instead, it was entirely smooth sailing, and not a single complaint could have been raised. Only thoughts about the late Ralkor plagued Leon's mind.

Over the course of their journey, Gerald had explained many things to Leon. Most of it was mainly about the Empire, but some of it was about the different creatures that he'd find in the West.

Cured of his ignorance, Leon now understood the Empire's basic structure. Much like the medieval era on Earth, almost all decisions were made by the n.o.bility. The King and his many ministers pa.s.sed every doctrine, and laws were set in place by them as well. In the Empire, if the King willed it, then it would happen.

Unfortunately, according to Gerald, the inner workings of the Empire had changed entirely over the last few years. Instead of the late King, who had suddenly died to illness, his son, Frederick, was a hawk. Abolis.h.i.+ng many of the pa.s.sive and dove-like regulations, Frederick believed in growing the economy by use of war. Naturally, this caused quite a bit of turmoil.

Completely destroying his father's life work, Frederick installed a new Prime Minister and conferred t.i.tles to many prestigious men who backed him. One of these men was the Duke of Silundar. Not only did he command the strongest force in the capital, but his authority was only second to direct royalty.

Due to these reasons, the Empire was facing more inner conflict than ever before. Gerald knew this because he was firmly situated in the middle of this storm. As the son of a Count, he was expected to join one of the two sides. Either align with King Frederick and the Duke of Silundar, or a.s.sist the other Duke's and d.u.c.h.esses's.

Leon had a basic grasp on politics, but even his head hurt due to the influx of information. Regardless of whether or not the hawks or doves held more power in court, Leon was not expecting to intricate himself in such matters. He was far more focused on Blood Mountain and his future duties.

Just a few hours away from the crossroads, Leon couldn't help but ask Gerald about what the captain in Blood Mountain was supposed to do. "If the captain is lynched by his own men, how do you suppose I go about things?" He asked, scratching his beard.

Surprisingly enough, Leon wasn't very scared. He felt as though the whole thing was surreal. Besides, it was convenient that he'd be entering a prison just after selecting the Warden specialization.

"How to go about things?" Gerald tilted his head to the side, tapping his chin. "Honestly, I don't think there is necessarily a correct way to accomplish your duties. My only piece of advice would be to have fun..."

Pausing, Gerald sighed. "Other than you, there will be no other supervisors. This means that you'll basically be able to do whatever you want. According to some insider intel, there are some very beautiful prisoners..."

Hearing his words, Leon rolled his eyes and slapped him on the back. Dating a woman was the last thing on his mind. Especially ones that were stuck in prison. Just the thought caused him to laugh out loud. Apparently, he'd be on his own at Blood Mountain.