The Imperial Supreme Commander Has Returned - Chapter 31

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Imperial Commander Has Returned — Chapter 31

The Nohaki Tribe Territory.
It was the birth tribe of the Rune Master.
Few knew this fact, and it was because of their nature.
By disposition they disliked conflict, so living at the foot of the Mountain Range clearing fields for slash-and-burn farming, there was little reason for rumor to spread.
The Rune Master himself had deliberately kept his distance.

‘There should be a Nohaki village somewhere near here.’

The final battle was approaching.
A battlefield where, by all likelihood, he would meet his end.
Before that came, he would want to take his family in with his eyes one last time.
If he were the Rune Master, he would certainly feel that way.

“Owl, find the strongest person in this area.”
—Hoot?
“If you spot someone with at least five times my Mana, come back and tell me. Can you do that?”
—Hoot.

The Owl nodded and launched into the air with a flutter of wings.
The Owl was invisible to anyone else, imperceptible to all but him.
A Spirit Creature that only Delam could commune with.
Beyond mere speech, it understood when he was teasing and grew indignant enough to show its anger—a creature of remarkable intelligence.
Wasn’t it, then, the perfect scout?

‘And flying through the sky gives it such a wide field of vision.’

How much time had passed?
As the sun began to sink low on the horizon, a sound reached him.

Flap-flap!

The sound of the Owl’s wings beating.
There, in the distance, appeared a blue-gleaming Owl.

“Found one?”
—Hoot!

The Owl cried out confidently, then took flight again.
Intent flowed through their connected thread.
Follow me, it meant.

Delam sprang off the Cliff after the Owl.
Straight ahead lay a precipice hundreds of meters deep.
He would be crushed like an overripe tomato—except that wouldn’t happen.

Whoosh—

He kicked against empty air and launched upward again.
It was the technique he’d displayed in his fight with the Sword Master.
Ever since acquiring the Owl, his Wind reserves had grown substantially; now he could chain it three or four times in succession.

The pattern repeated.
Delam lightened his body with Wind, sprinted through the forest, leaped rivers when they appeared, and scaled cliffs when they rose before him.
In just three hours, he crossed a distance that would have cost ordinary men a full day of sweat and struggle.

At last he arrived at a deep forest.
In the center of the Basin stood a manor house, nestled comfortably among the trees.
Too grand for a Nohaki Tribe dwelling.

The defenses were no different.
Hundreds of faint glowing characters drifted around the manor.
A barrier woven from Runes of Warning and Runes of Protection.
He’d found the right place.

‘You’ve worked hard. Come here.’
Hoot.

Delam called the Owl, which descended directly into the back garden.
In the detached building ahead, someone was home.
An old man and a young boy.

At the sound of footsteps, both turned to look.
Delam greeted them warmly.
The old man’s face hardened as he quickly shielded his grandson behind him.

“It’s been a long time, Rune Master.”

* * *

…….

The Rune Master studied Delam intently.
Save for a slight tension around his mouth, his expression betrayed nothing.
Yet inwardly, shock gave way to something far worse—a creeping sense of unease.

Who had said it?
That in the end, the world bows to those who survive.

By that measure, the Rune Master himself was truly strong.
Seventy years old.
Through all those decades, he had wandered the continent pursuing arcane knowledge, yet endured—becoming a Rune Master in his own right.

And so the Rune Master thought:
This one is wrong. Utterly wrong.

Over sixty years of travel, he had encountered all manner of humanity.
But never anyone so thoroughly at odds with expectation.

‘Why didn’t the runes sound an alarm?’

This was where his family lived—most importantly, his cherished grandson.
He had laid down runes with almost excessive care.
Hundreds of them, enough to form a complete barrier.

Yet he had failed to sense this man’s approach.
The boy before him—barely more than a low-ranking knight, by all appearances—
Had drawn close enough to press a blade beneath his own chin.

Most disturbing of all was the boy’s composure.
He stood before the Rune Master with unshakeable confidence.
His eyes were calm, as though he knew everything; his gaze pierced through defenses like a hand rifling through secret thoughts.

He had seen such a person once, long ago.
His own master…….
And so the conclusion took shape—

‘A dangerous one.’

So he tried harder to stay composed, but it wasn’t working.
The tremor running through his legs wouldn’t let him.

“I… grandfather……”

Only six years old.
A grandson who didn’t even reach the old man’s waist.
And worse—his daughter and son-in-law were sleeping in the main house.

But the Rune Master clenched his teeth without letting it show.
Was he truly the only one who’d come to this place?
Perhaps this one was merely bait.
That monstrosity of a Sword Master might come crashing through any moment.

He had to calm his mind.
Difficult as it was, he had to manage it……

The Rune Master forcibly deadened even his own emotions.
Truly, he lived up to his reputation as a master of the craft.
After a moment of choosing his words,
he finally opened his mouth.

“It’s been a long time—do we have some acquaintance?”
“If we do, we do. If we don’t, we don’t.”
“That doesn’t seem like a precise answer.”
“That boy in back is your grandson, Zakami? Still quite young.”
“……!”

The equanimity he’d barely found shattered in an instant.
This time he couldn’t even manage his expression.
Shock laid bare across his face for all to see.

Not that it was surprising.
He’d abandoned his distant homeland long ago and wandered the continent ever since—so much so that even the tribal leaders didn’t know his exact family ties.
But this boy before him?
He knew not only about his grandson’s existence but even his name!

‘How terrifying.’

The Rune Master felt goosebumps prickle across his skin anew.
He’d understood it then.
Just how formidable the intelligence network of the Pior Kingdom truly was.
If that were the case, how many fights had they been waging this whole time without any real chance of winning……?

Delam studied the Rune Master carefully.
The memory surfaced—those bloodshot eyes cursing him in the past.
But now, here he stood trembling like a leaf.
It felt almost cruel, tormenting an old man like this.

“At your age, there’s no need to startle yourself so. But are you really going to keep your guest standing here? My legs are starting to hurt.”
“…Are you truly a guest?”
“For now, yes.”
“Then I’ll bring some tea. But—”
“If you’re thinking of your grandson, go return him to his parents. He looks like he’s about to have a fit, and I can’t bear to watch.”
“Much obliged.”

The Rune Master disappeared with his grandson.
Delam pulled a nearby chair over and sat back at an angle.
The sound of insects chirping outside seemed quite endearing in the meantime.

He held no fear that Delam would simply flee.
In truth, it wasn’t such a bad outcome either way.
It was easier to kill whatever came at him than to waste energy on ranks and titles and such nonsense.

But such a thing would not come to pass.
The Rune Master was too wise for that.

Indeed, moments later.
Delam’s eyes opened at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“A pity. I had hoped you would simply vanish.”
“This is tea brewed from the leaves of the Ammala Tree. It tastes bitter, but it contains no poison—only healthful properties, I assure you.”
“Kimbella, then. Steeped from the root rather than the leaf, if I’m not mistaken. It has the virtue of calming the mind as well.”

The Rune Master’s hand trembled as he poured the tea.
It could not have been otherwise.

To send military force blindly against an enemy was the way of an amateur.
To dispatch spies to learn supply lines and troop strength—that was competence.
But to understand the enemy’s culture, their history, their people—that was mastery.
The Pior Kingdom were truly formidable creatures……

“You know us… very well indeed.”
“There is a saying in the Eastern Regions: Know Your Enemy, Know Yourself.”
“If you know your enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the results of a hundred battles. I myself have traveled through the Eastern Regions, albeit briefly.”
“I have not. I chose not to go. You see, wherever I travel, people fall in vast numbers. So deliberately, I have avoided places of beauty.”
“……”
“Having journeyed across continents as you have, surely you’ve heard of the War Game played in the Tolrung Kingdom?”
“Heard of it? I’ve played it often. There’s no better pastime during war, as you well know.”
“Then what of a match?”
“It is precisely what I desire.”

The War Game of the Tolrung Kingdom.
In essence, it was a type of war simulation conducted on a broad board with dozens of pieces and dice.

First, the parameters had to be established.
The terrain was determined, and both players negotiated their military forces and supplies.
Then each took turns moving.
When forces clashed, battle ensued.

The outcomes of battles and maneuvers were decided by dice.
Though of course, it was not mere random casting.
Troop type, terrain position, timing, provisions—
Various factors weighted the odds in favor of the stronger position.

It was, to all appearances, an effective game for studying strategy and tactics.
Though the Tolrung Kingdom itself had long since fallen.

“Well then, I command ten thousand troops. Elite soldiers, granted full authority by my commander. And you?”
“Fifty thousand from Sambala.”
“Thirty thousand, then. Let me see… the tribes positioned here, here, here, and here, yes? Good heavens, those two don’t get along—what happens if they’re placed adjacent? And these others will remain silent if their neighbors are attacked. Cowards, all of them.”
“……!”
“Recalculating, that gives you twenty-six thousand. Do you agree?”
“I… cannot agree.”

The Rune Master would not concede the point.
Yet exhaustion colored every word he spoke.

And well it might.
The tribal chieftains of Sambala wielded power beyond measure.
You might call them kings, in a manner of speaking.

And the alliance of such tribes was the Sambala Tribal Alliance.
Over ten kings confined within a single framework—
that it hadn’t already torn itself apart was nothing short of a miracle.

And truthfully, it wasn’t even a real miracle.
It was the fruit of the Rune Master’s desperate sacrifice.
So contrary to Delam’s expectations, the thirty thousand wasn’t a lie.
Even if it was a sandcastle that could crumble at any moment.

“Well… I understand. Then let’s settle the provisions now. We’ll set ours at about five thousand sacks of grain. The kingdom will keep sending more, so we should plan for that, but we’ll enjoy that surplus later. And you, Rune Master?”
“…Ours is one thousand sacks.”
“Ten thousand, surely. You have hidden food stores scattered here and here and here on the map, don’t you? And the Poem Tribe is cultivating this area, yes? Even though it’s early spring, they’re specialists in Secret Mystical Arts related to crops, so we should be able to harvest potatoes at least.”
“……….”

Delam pointed to several locations on the map with his finger.
At the sight of it, the Rune Master’s expression slowly crumbled.
Not because he was pleased that Delam had been wrong.
Rather, he had surrendered everything in the face of overwhelming despair.

What were the two elements that could be called everything in warfare?
Military force and provisions.
And the other side already knew all of them.
Knew them as clearly as if reading from the palm of a hand.

Any war waged now would be meaningless.
Only futile blood would soak the earth.

A thin trickle.

The Rune Master finally acknowledged it.
Hot tears streaming down the deep lines of his face were proof of that surrender.

“……….”

Delam quietly swept the War Game pieces from the board.
Then he leaned forward and spoke.

“Now we can finally have a serious conversation.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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