Chapter 96 — The Hundred Who Came Too Late

The aid the settlement had been awaiting for over a month had finally arrived.

Earlier that day, a swift vessel had come racing down from upstream and moored at the edge of the lumber yard to the west. The envoy who disembarked spoke with the soldiers stationed there, informing them that the contingent from the royal capital would soon arrive. The soldiers mounted swift horses and carried the news posthaste to the camp. The moment Gao Yang learned of it, he dropped the work at hand and headed for the camp docks to prepare to receive them.

This dock had been expanded and rebuilt upon the foundation of a temporary landing, and though it had not yet reached the standard for long-term use, it already boasted broader walkways and sturdier construction. To its west stood the sawmill; to its east, a large open tract had been left clear in anticipation of future expansion. That open ground was now crowded with people—everyone curious to see what the party from the royal capital would look like. Nearly half the camp had gathered here.

Gao Yang did not stop them. On the contrary, this was by his express permission: the relief contingent from Saint Frostrest would do much to steady the hearts of the territory, and in a place so lacking in diversions, drudgery itself bred pent-up strain. Some novelty in the territory was one of the most effective ways to lift the people's spirits.

Amber stood on the dock's walkway, rising on her toes to peer upstream along the Whitewater River, swaying and shifting without a moment's stillness. She lasted only a short while before she could hold back no longer. "Why aren't they here yet...? I feel like I'm about to grow cobwebs."

"Those spiders would have to be awfully quick," Gao Yang said, shooting the girl a look. "You just got here. You've been standing there barely fifteen minutes, all right?"

"Hey, hey—what do you think the people from the royal capital even look like?"

"Don't put on that bumpkin act. Have you never been to the royal capital or what?"

"Tch. Talking to you is seriously no fun," Amber said, pursing her lips—but she held out only a few seconds before chattering again. "Hey, hey, did you hear? The one leading this party this time seems to be someone quite out of the ordinary..."

"Viroday—Francis II's only daughter, the 'Saint Princess' who converted to the God of Holy Light a couple of years back," Gao Yang said, expressionless. "Mm. She does surprise me a little. I never expected this princess, who's said to spend all her years inside the Radiant Chapel and never take part in any political affairs, to come out here—and to lead this contingent in person, no less... Tch. A pity I don't know anything about her, so I can't deduce a thing."

Amber snorted with contempt through her nose. "Tch. You nobles are all twisty little schemers. Everything has to be analyzed for some plot or intrigue—you'd have it that even a fart needs a cause and a consequence."

Hedy, standing behind Gao Yang, frowned at once. "Crude beyond words. Not an ounce of improvement."

Amber's eyes went wide, ready to launch into a debate with Hedy—but Gao Yang suddenly raised a hand. "Save it. They're here."

On the riverbank screened by trees, a sail slipped past the treetops and appeared on the surface of the Whitewater River upstream.

A fine white great ship, with several small and mid-sized swift vessels that looked like escorts, came gliding downriver.

The great ship bore an unmistakable Ans royal crest, and its appearance matched what the envoy had reported. Without question, this was it.

At that same moment, those aboard the White Oak also glimpsed the camp faintly emerging along the distant riverbank.

The craftsmen and apprentices had been cooped up in the cabins for days on end; their patience on every front had long since reached its limit, and they had been longing to make landfall for more than a day or two. Hearing now that their destination was near, they were naturally elated. Many poured up from below decks and crowded against the railings to gaze into the distance—and there, spread out before everyone's eyes, was a vast, neat, brand-new camp.

Its scale was far greater than they had imagined, and its orderliness was astonishing.

Those aboard could not help murmuring among themselves. They knew what had happened in the Cecil territory, and they knew that this settlement had begun construction only a month or so ago, with a total of merely eight hundred refugees taking part. By the pace of construction familiar to people of this age, to have raised a jumble of tents and ringed them with a fence in such a short time with so few hands would already have been a formidable achievement. And that camp downstream...

There was no way it could have been built in such a short time!

They could even see a fine wooden dock beside the camp—and within the camp, no small number of timber-frame houses!

Viroday stood on the deck as well, though on the upper deck at the bow, a place the craftsmen, apprentices, and coarse sailors were not permitted to approach. Beside her stood only a plain-faced woman with short hair in a white priest's robe, and a middle-aged man in a silk coat bearing the crest of the royal knight order on his breast.

Unlike those who could only cluster together and exclaim in a chaotic din, Viroday merely gazed quietly at the distant Cecil settlement. Her eyes, alight with radiance, could see more, farther, and more clearly.

She saw plainly that on the northern side of the camp, on the southern bank of the Whitewater River, were arrayed countless things that made the heart quail at a glance.

Viroday strengthened her sight with holy light and looked closely—and her heart lurched. Even her spirit, usually steeped in holy light and unshaken by any wave, could not suppress its stirring, and it nearly showed on her face.

They were countless blood-red skeletons, as though the remains of giants, heaped mountain-high along the riverbank. Some of the enormous frames stretched hundreds of meters along the river, and hazy black-red smoke drifted from the bones, which themselves seemed to be crumbling every minute and every second. A single sweeping glance showed her several of the propped-up skeletons already severely broken and weathered, as though they might turn to dust at any moment.

Plainly, those bones had been deliberately placed there, like trophies put on display to proclaim feats of arms.

Viroday kept her emotions well in check, but the middle-aged man beside her did not suppress his astonishment. This guard bearing the knight order's crest noticed the things beside the camp, murmured several incantations under his breath, and then a sheen of arcane energy surfaced in his eyes. He cast an eagle-eye spell toward the camp and could not help crying out, "By the King's name! What monsters' bones are those?!"

"More than two months ago, Duke Gao Yang Cecil warned my father the King that the aberrations of the demon tide had reappeared in this world. Yet in my view, that warning did not draw sufficient attention," Viroday said mildly, her voice carrying a holy cadence, as though aloof from the mortal world. "Without question, these monsters truly exist—and that ancient hero has defeated them once again."

The middle-aged man's tone was grave. "This must be reported to His Majesty!"

"Yes, Vice-Commander Cohen," Viroday said quietly. "But that will only make the situation more difficult."

"You mean the east..." The knight order's vice-commander, addressed as Cohen, checked himself, and could only sigh at last. "Natural disaster and human calamity alike."

At last the White Oak came to shore.