Chapter 2: Intelligence
After a brief period of recovery, Seiju began his investigation.
The original owner of this body had been consumed by a singular, obsessive hatred for demi-humans. Beyond the slaughter of his enemies, he possessed no understanding of international affairs or political nuances. He had been so ignorant that he hadn't even realized the gender of the Holy Queen, operating under the assumption that the "Holy King" had always been a man.
Seiju stood atop the fortress walls, his gaze sweeping over the endless, undulating mountain ranges in the distance. A breeze drifted through the valley, carrying a biting, bone-chilling cold.
Somewhere within those distant peaks lay the Abellion Hills—what would eventually become Demiurge's Happy Farm. However, Seiju could not yet confirm if the Great Tomb of Nazarick had even arrived in this world. Based on the reports he had gathered so far, the demi-human incursions were disorganized and scattered, characterized more by hit-and-run guerrilla harassment than coordinated warfare.
This suggested that Demiurge had not yet unified the tribes of the hills. Or perhaps, the Great Tomb had not yet descended at all.
When Seiju tentatively asked Pabel Baraja about the Demon King Jaldabaoth, the response was a blank stare. "I have never heard of such a demon," Pabel had replied.
Pabel also expressed a grim sympathy for Seiju's recent predicament. Since Calca Bessarez had only recently ascended to the throne—and as a woman, no less—the nobility offered her only a thin veneer of public obedience. Behind closed doors, they held her in utter contempt and were already conspiring to erode the influence of the Royalist faction.
The most blatant manifestation of this corruption was the manipulation of official titles and military commissions. Seiju had been a direct casualty of these shadow games.
"Yo! Seiju! I heard you single-handedly stalled a Snakeman pursuit force!"
A thunderous voice erupted behind him. A burly man dressed in the rugged attire of a northern warrior strode forward.
"Come! To the training grounds! Let's see if that 'Demi-human Slayer' title of yours is just hot air!"
Orlando Campano—one of the Holy Kingdom's famed "Nine Colors"—walked up to Seiju with an arrogant swagger. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Seiju by the shoulder and began dragging him toward the parade grounds.
His grip is like a vice... Seiju groaned inwardly. He tried to exert his full strength to break free, but the man's hand was like a pair of iron tongs, clamping him in place and leaving him no room for escape.
Just like that, Seiju was unceremoniously hauled into the center of the soldiers' training area. He immediately realized he had become the center of unwanted attention. The surrounding soldiers leaned in, their voices a low buzz of gossip.
"The boss found a new toy to break."
"Isn't that the 'Demi-human Slayer' the scouts have been hyping up? The one who cheated death?"
"Impressive. Riddled with toxin one day, looking fit as a fiddle the next."
"Quick, place your bets! How many rounds can the kid last against the boss?"
"Three rounds..."
"Two rounds..."
"I bet the kid folds after the first exchange."
The soldiers looked more like a gang of thugs and criminals than a professional army. They pointed and jeered at Seiju without the slightest hint of restraint, their words dripping with disdain. Seiju could only hope to survive a few exchanges without suffering a total humiliation.
While these men appeared crude, they were Orlando's subordinates; their strength was not to be underestimated. As for Orlando himself, his prowess was legendary. Though he would eventually be dispatched in a single move by Demiurge, he was still one of the elite Nine Colors of the Holy Kingdom.
In contrast, Seiju's current strength was only comparable to a Silver-rank adventurer. Having just transmigrated, his actual combat experience was pitifully thin. He felt a sharp jolt of nervous tension.
"Ready, whelp? Here I come!" Orlando roared with savage excitement. Like a prowling beast, he leaped high into the air. His heavy metal axe traced a cold, glittering arc through the sky, descending toward Seiju with a terrifying, crushing momentum.
Seiju's pupils constricted. Adrenaline flooded his system.
"[Fortress]!"
He triggered the Martial Art. His longsword cleared its scabbard in a blur, snapping into a horizontal guard before him. Under the influence of the technique, a shimmering, iridescent film of light coated the blade, forming a near-impenetrable line of defense.
CLANG!
The screech of metal on metal echoed across the grounds as the axe collided with the sword, sending a shower of brilliant sparks flying. Seiju's arms went numb instantly, the shockwave threatening to tear his palms open. He gritted his teeth, gripping the hilt with a death grip, refusing to let the axe advance another inch.
"Not a bad use of Martial Arts, kid." A glint of genuine appreciation flickered in Orlando's eyes, though it was quickly swallowed by battle-lust. He was satisfied; this was becoming interesting.
Seiju, however, was gripped by a flash of genuine fear. Is he joking? Is he actually trying to kill me?! The sheer power behind that blow was staggering; his arms were still vibrating from the impact.
Before Seiju could recover his composure, Orlando bellowed again: "Now then, see how you handle this! [Heavy Strike]!"
The axe in Orlando's hands began to spin like a localized whirlwind. Carrying the force of a cannonball, it swung in a massive horizontal arc toward Seiju's side.
Seiju desperately funneled his focus into his defense. "[Fortress]!"
But Orlando's [Heavy Strike] was too fast, too brutal. The defensive barrier of [Fortress] had barely manifested before the axe shattered it like glass. The sheer kinetic energy sent Seiju spiraling backward through the air.
"[Heavy Strike]!" Orlando was relentless, pressing his advantage. He lunged forward, the axe whistling toward Seiju again.
"[Fortress]!" Seiju managed to twist in mid-air, landing unsteadily and throwing up another defensive barrier.
"[Heavy Strike]!!!" Orlando's assault was a relentless storm, denying Seiju even a second to breathe. Axe blow followed axe blow, each strike landing with the weight of a falling mountain. Seiju was drowning in the onslaught.
Orlando's subordinates were screaming in a frenzy.
"Hang in there, kid! My money's on the line!"
"Finish him, Boss! He's breaking! Go, go!"
"Orlando, enough! Stand down!" Pabel Baraja's voice cut through the din like a whip.
Orlando was in the heat of the moment and showed no intention of stopping.
Thwip! A feathered arrow struck Orlando's axe just as it was about to descend. The force behind the arrow was incredible, knocking the axe head wide and sending it spinning away.
Seiju was saved. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, his lungs burning. The repeated use of Martial Arts in such a short window had left him utterly drained.
[Detected Instructor-led Martial Art—Heavy Strike]
[Heavy Strike has been automatically learned]
Orlando, now empty-handed, shrugged and turned toward Pabel. "I was just giving the lad a bit of a workout. You're too high-strung, Commander."
"If you want to teach him techniques, do it properly. You could have seriously injured him like this." Pabel lowered his bow, his expression stern.
"I have a sense for these things. Even if the kid got hurt, I'd already notified the healing priest to stand by," Orlando replied casually.
Pabel didn't bother arguing further. He walked directly to Seiju and helped him up.
"Are you alright? Orlando's personality is... difficult. To be forced into a duel so soon after narrowly escaping death must be exhausting. I'll deal with him later," Pabel said, his voice carrying a note of weary comfort. "I'll take you back to the barracks. You need to rest for the next few days."
As he spoke, Pabel directed a sharp, piercing glare at Orlando.
"Your eyes are as terrifying as ever, Commander Pabel," Orlando chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. He gave a half-hearted wave, signaling he wouldn't use such "crude" methods to spar with the soldiers again.
"Thank you..." Seiju panted, nodding his gratitude to Pabel.
***
***
***
Fun fact: The author actually wrote overlord cuz his trpg friends were too busy to play so he decided to create his own world!
Dont forget to add to ur library and drop some power stone!