Chapter 8: Let’s Make a Pilgrimage to the Holy Land!
“Why… why the hell is it turning out like this?!”
While Sedia and her elves were basking in joy thanks to Klaus’s actions, Marquis Markovar, the ruler of this land, was tormented by the fact that everything was spiraling in a direction that spelled trouble for him.
It all started at the tenth anniversary party of Marquis Wyndham’s ascension.
That day, Markovar had planned to use Phantom Hand to eliminate Wyndham, the king’s right-hand man, a major obstacle to his grand scheme of overthrowing the Solstia Kingdom and establishing a new nation.
But despite his careful planning, Wyndham countered flawlessly, minimizing the damage.
Though Markovar narrowly escaped execution, he was stripped of his influence in the royal council.
How had the information leaked?
Seething with frustration and questions, Markovar received another decree.
It ordered him to lend part of his territory to Klaus Renford as a base for developing the Great Forest of the Underworld.
“That’s right… Klaus Renford… ever since that bastard showed up, everything’s gone to hell…”
Markovar muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with venom.
Klaus Renford, the current lord of the neighboring Renford territory, had taken over the viscountcy at a young age after losing his parents in an accident, despite still being of Royal Academy age.
Rumors had painted him as incompetent, like his parents, and with Renford’s resource-poor lands, Markovar had dismissed him.
But recently, the whispers about Klaus had changed.
They said he’d transformed, governing with benevolence and earning the people’s favor.
Somehow, his territory’s harvests had skyrocketed, producing specialties that drew migrants from Markovar’s lands and beyond.
Even more shocking, Klaus was reportedly a martial prodigy, having single-handedly defeated two Demon King’s army executives.
Hard-to-believe tales, but the king’s direct appointment of Klaus to manage the vast Great Forest of the Underworld lent them credibility.
For Markovar, though, the order was a bitter pill.
The Great Forest of the Underworld housed Phantom Hand’s base, a critical asset for him.
Plus, just before Klaus’s arrival, rare elves had been discovered.
If subdued, they’d make excellent subordinates or fetch a high price from allied nobles.
Markovar had planned to capture the elves while Klaus struggled with the forest’s harsh environment and relocate Phantom Hand’s base.
But that plan never came to fruition.
Why?
Because Phantom Hand, which had been pursuing the elves, suddenly went silent.
Days later, a few survivors reported that a powerful fire spell had incinerated them during the attack.
And that spell matched the one Klaus used for “developing” the Great Forest of the Underworld.
In other words, Klaus had seen through Phantom Hand’s covert operations and neutralized them.
It was a move as deft as the one at Wyndham’s anniversary party.
Reports also mentioned Klaus’s friendly chats with Wyndham, who’d visited the forest, leading Markovar to suspect Klaus’s involvement in that fiasco too, fueling his rage.
He didn’t care much for his subordinates, but losing valuable pawns was unacceptable.
The humiliation didn’t end there.
After Phantom Hand’s destruction, Klaus handed the Great Forest of the Underworld’s management to the elves.
Elves, who supposedly despised serving other races, were somehow won over by Klaus’s methods and now followed him eagerly, their territory flourishing daily.
Worse, Klaus made no effort to hide that he’d placed the secretive elves under his control, openly entrusting them with the forest’s management.
When Markovar’s people learned another lord had achieved this, his support waned.
Even among his nobles, he felt like he was sitting on pins and needles.
“Klaus Renford… if it weren’t for you, none of this would’ve happened. I’d have eliminated the damn Wyndhams, subjugated the elves, and earned favor with that person…”
He recalled their recent encounter.
Klaus had the gall to declare he’d “set Markovar on the right path.”
This chain of events must be part of that.
But letting this continue was intolerable—not for Markovar’s faction, and certainly not for his pride.
He had to eliminate Klaus now.
His mind consumed by fury, Markovar convinced himself, (That’s right. I can’t let a scoundrel like him exist any longer… Taking him out is the greatest contribution I can make.)
Cloaking his emotions in righteousness, Markovar made his decision.
Phantom Hand was gone, but he had other forces at his disposal.
“—It’s settled, then.”
Markovar steeled himself to break the status quo.
Minutes later, accompanied by a few trusted knights, Markovar navigated hidden passages and staircases in his castle, arriving at a vast underground chamber.
This secret space, known only to select nobles, was a magical workshop.
Currently, it housed the development of a weapon: magical automatons.
Before Markovar stood over a hundred automatons, crafted over decades.
Most were mass-produced models, each rivaling a B-rank monster in strength—an impressive force.
But he shook his head.
“If the rumors about him defeating Demon King’s army executives are true, these mass-produced units won’t cut it, no matter how many I have.”
He needed quality, not quantity.
Fortunately, the workshop held two suitable specimens.
One was an advanced model, powered by years of stored mana, capable of matching a Demon King’s army executive.
The other, still under development, was a special model—superior but requiring a live human pilot and massive pre-stored mana.
The special model wouldn’t be ready for another year due to mana efficiency issues, but the advanced model should suffice against an overconfident foe like Klaus.
“And I’ve got another ace up my sleeve…”
Grinning maliciously, Markovar calculated.
The advanced model alone should do the job, but he had an even greater trump card for insurance.
No one could match the cunning he’d honed surviving noble society.
As he planned, a voice interrupted.
“Well, well, Marquis Markovar. What brings you here today?”
“Leyard.”
Turning, he saw Leyard, the head of automaton development and a trusted noble subordinate.
Without hesitation, Markovar explained the situation and his plan to use the automatons against Klaus.
Leyard, equally frustrated with the status quo, nodded eagerly.
“Incredible…! Not only will my life’s work finally shine, but it’ll be used to eliminate the scoundrel threatening your domain! A brilliant plan!”
“Isn’t it?” Markovar smirked.
“Yes! Though, it’s a pity the mass-produced units won’t see action, since you’re only using the advanced model…”
“For this purpose, numbers don’t matter. Besides, we can only handle so many at once… Wait.”
Markovar recalled other nobles who resented Klaus, especially for losing resources and people to Renford.
He could use their frustration.
“How about this?” he proposed.
“Ho, quite intriguing,” Leyard and the knights nodded, pleased, as the plan neared completion.
But then—
“Wait! Weren’t these automatons built to protect the people?!”
“…You.”
The voice belonged to Claude Rosemist, a brown-haired man in his early thirties, well-known to Markovar.
The Rosemist family had ruled this land over a century ago, before Markovar’s clan schemed to seize control.
Though foolish, the Rosemists were talented, especially in mana manipulation, technical development, and dexterity.
Without Claude’s help, the automatons wouldn’t exist.
Their history bred deep enmity, yet Claude had cooperated, believing the automatons would protect the territory from threats like the Great Forest of the Underworld’s monsters, especially before Phantom Hand was under Markovar’s control.
But protection wasn’t Markovar’s true goal.
The real aim—his primary one—was to use the automatons for territorial expansion.
(Of course. Not using such valuable forces for conquest is unthinkable. This fool wouldn’t understand such lofty ambitions… Wait, that’s it!)
A wicked idea struck Markovar.
With a grin, he fixed his gaze on Claude.
“Perfect timing. The advanced model needs a core—a pilot.”
“What are you—”
“Seize him! Take this traitor who defies my orders!”
“““Yes, sir!”””
“What the—?!”
With the special model nearing completion, Claude was expendable.
The knights swiftly captured him.
All that remained was to use Claude as the advanced model’s core and attack Klaus’s stronghold.
“A perfect plan! Hahaha!”
Markovar’s laughter echoed triumphantly.
“…Sorry, Clau—”
Claude muttered something as he was knocked out, but Markovar ignored it, laughing on.
◇◆◇
Some time after I’d forced the elves to manage the Great Forest of the Underworld and started enjoying my newfound free time, Linsia, an elf from the intelligence unit, requested an audience to report something.
I had her brought to my study, where she knelt before me.
“My lord, I have an urgent report.”
“Speak.”
I was impressed she maintained such formal address despite the dirty work I’d forced on her (though why she calls me “my lord” is beyond me) and urged her on.
Linsia nodded.
“Per your orders, we investigated Marquis Markovar’s activities and discovered a highly suspicious underground chamber.”
According to her, beneath Markovar’s castle lay a vast space filled with giant stone automatons powered by mana stones.
For days, Markovar had been secretly visiting this chamber with only a few trusted aides, acting suspiciously.
Linsia’s team, on high alert, exploited a gap in security and confirmed the chamber’s contents yesterday.
They saw rows of giant automatons but couldn’t discern their purpose and came to report.
“Giant automatons, huh…”
I had a hunch.
They were almost certainly magical automatons.
Markovar, a character from Altena Fantasia, used them as a boss.
That they were developed in a castle’s underground chamber was news to me—intriguing.
But then I recalled why I’d ordered the intelligence unit to dig into Markovar.
(I need dirt to cough persuade him to serve me. The automatons are just military assets—weak leverage if he claims they’re for protecting his people.)
They didn’t compare to Phantom Hand as blackmail material.
I’d need a better weakness.
(Still, it’d be a waste not to use this info.)
In the game, I only saw the automatons in combat.
As a gamer, I couldn’t help but be curious about their development process.
Like when I explored the capital for the same reason, I turned to Linsia.
“Interesting intel. I’ll make good use of it.”
“My lord, I’m overjoyed to serve you!”
Her long elf ears twitched as she beamed.
I just wanted to visit an Altena Fantasia landmark, but she seemed to misunderstand.
No need to correct her, though.
I told Linsia I’d step out for a bit and headed alone to Markovar’s castle.
Following Linsia’s report, I cautiously approached the underground chamber.
But—
“Hm. Got in easier than expected.”
Unlike her report, there were few guards, and knowing the chamber’s location made entry a breeze.
I’d prepared to force my way in, unable to use stealth magic, but that wasn’t necessary.
Pondering this, I surveyed the interior.
Contrary to the report, no automatons were in sight.
The place was empty, eerily silent without a soul around.
“What’s going on…?”
I pulled off my hood and explored.
No matter where I looked, there were no signs of countless automatons.
“Hah! Did they feed me false info to lure me here for an ambush?!”
Considering the cruel tasks I’d forced on Marie and the intelligence unit, it wouldn’t be surprising.
I waited, half-excited for their move, but no ambush came.
Instead, I found it.
“This…!”
At the chamber’s deepest end stood the unmistakable magical automaton I sought.
In dim light, its ten-meter-tall, mana-stone-crafted form loomed, exuding overwhelming presence.
Its knight-like head and heavily armored body were striking, especially the transparent hemispherical cockpit at its chest, housing a seat and control panel.
My body trembled with excitement.
“No doubt about it! This is the special model from Altena Fantasia!”
I recognized it instantly.
Still buzzing, I recalled one of the game’s most emotional scenes.
To explain, I need to talk about a main heroine: Chloe Rosemist, the only black-haired heroine.
Her story, battling prejudice, was the heaviest, with a deeply compelling narrative.
In her route, Marquis Markovar is a mid-boss, and fighting him inevitably meant facing his automatons.
A bit about Chloe’s background:
Her parents are gone.
Her father died young, leaving her brother, Claude Rosemist, to inherit the family.
Six months later, her mother died giving birth to Chloe.
Born with black hair, shunned in Markovar’s domain, Claude decided Chloe couldn’t live freely there.
He claimed she was stillborn with their mother and sent her to an orphanage, hoping they’d reunite someday.
But in Chloe’s route’s climax, Claude is used as the special model’s core, forcing him to fight her.
He dies in the battle.
Their final sibling exchange is a legendary tearjerker.
“I cried buckets over that scene.”
The memory alone stung my nose.
That emotional moment was, in no small part, thanks to this automaton—
Twitch.
A sudden idea jolted me.
Confirming no one was around, I made a resolute decision.
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