Chapter 15: Founding the Agricultural Corps (1)
“Mnyaari... mnyamnyaa...”
“Huu.”
“Nyamnyari... nyamnyanyaa...”
“Haa.”
“Nyarinyarinallasyung...”
“Ugh, damn it!”
Paak!
“Pikaaa... agrrrrk...”
“...”
This was insane.
Foaming at the mouth from the flick to the forehead that came out before he knew it, the ghost general Pikamir—who had once been the loyal confidant and right hand of the First Star Lord—had completely passed out. Kim Jangcheol let out a deep sigh as he looked down at his unconscious figure.
Then he turned to his side.
“You heard all that just now, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Demon Lord.”
“How did it sound to you?”
“It sounded like a serious matter.”
Zephyros pushed up the bridge of his glasses as he spoke.
“If General Pikamir’s confession is true, then this can only be considered a clear act of treason by the First Star Lord.”
“Thought so too.”
“Yes. He killed the Demon Lord’s messengers sent to the Star Lords. As if that wasn’t enough, he even stole and blocked the orders. Thanks to that, all the Star Lords except the First one are completely unaware of the Demon Lord’s declaration of farming, or the intentions behind it.”
“Click. They must all be sitting around nervously sucking their thumbs.”
“They’re probably still waiting for our main force to depart for the human realm. Fully prepared to join in.”
“...Huu.”
Kim Jangcheol let out another sigh.
Zephyros asked,
“Then, what do you plan to do from here?”
“Well. Zephyros, what do you think?”
“I believe the First Star Lord must be punished to uphold the Demon Lord’s dignity.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes.”
Zephyros nodded.
“To be precise, the current situation Your Majesty finds yourself in is not favorable at all. The sudden cancellation of a well-prepared invasion of the human realm, for one. Because of that, all the demons are now stuck in the Abandoned Land, forced to endure even longer hunger.”
“Hmm.”
“If we had gone ahead with the invasion as planned, by now we’d all be singing joyfully with bellies full from pillaging human cities. That future has now been lost. Though no one’s saying it outright, there’s already a great deal of dissatisfaction. The only thing keeping everyone going is the fact that they’ve found a way to eat those poison-filled wild potatoes somehow. To sum it up in a word—”
“...To sum it up?”
“Everyone’s probably feeling like tying up the Demon Lord to a pole instead of Asurat and using him as a lightning rod until he’s a rag, then grinding him up nicely to sprinkle as compost in the fields.”
“...”
“Was my wording a bit too harsh?”
“Uh, well, maybe a bit?”
“My apologies. I’ll be more careful.”
“Uh... yes, I’d appreciate that.”
“...was what he said with a bitter expression like he’d just swallowed manure.”
“Tsk? You’re writing that down again. Again. And again.”
“It is my duty, after all.”
“I mean, I get that it’s your duty...”
Kim Jangcheol spoke with a slightly aggrieved tone.
“But about this duty of yours to record everything, can’t you make it a little more obvious when I say or do something cool?”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t feel like it.”
“...”
“If you don’t like it, you can fire me and put someone else in this position. That would solve everything…”
“...Haa. Fine, just do whatever you want.”
Kim Jangcheol’s sigh deepened.
The truth was, he couldn’t get rid of Zephyros.
Out of the few demons he could actually trust, Zephyros was the smartest one.
“Anyway, then... when do you plan on launching a campaign against the Cliffs of the Dead, the First Star Lord’s territory?”
Zephyros asked with his usual cold and dry gaze. He clearly assumed that Kim Jangcheol would definitely go after the First Star Lord.
‘Well, fair.’
Given the current situation, it was only natural to think that was the best course of action. Just like he said, canceling the invasion of the human realm had shaken their authority like a bobblehead doing twerking.
But what if they just let a traitorous First Star Lord off the hook? Then even the shred of remaining authority would vanish like a puff of dioxin in a sorrowful world.
However...
“No. I won’t be launching a campaign on the Cliffs.”
“Pardon?”
Zephyros’ eyes widened.
“You mean...”
“There’s no real benefit to attacking the First Star Lord right now.”
Kim Jangcheol said flatly.
And it was true.
‘Even if we raid the Cliffs of the Dead, even if we completely subjugate the place, we still won’t catch the real culprit behind this whole mess—the First Star Lord.’
He had played this game world—Paladin of Blood—no fewer than 19 times.
He knew this world’s rules better than anyone.
And based on that experience, this much was certain.
“Let me ask you something. What’s the terrain of the Cliffs of the Dead like?”
“Sheer cliffs and vertical ladders, connected by foot-wide ledges, and inside the cliffs are winding cave tunnels tangled like an anthill.”
“Exactly. And the First Star Lord is a ghost, right?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Ghosts can pass through walls and ceilings freely, as long as they wish, right?”
“Correct... ah.”
Zephyros’ eyes sparkled as realization struck.
“Then, what the Demon Lord is trying to do isn’t to invade the Cliffs—but to lure the First Star Lord out?”
“Bingo.”
This was why conversations with Zephyros always flowed so smoothly.
Kim Jangcheol smiled in satisfaction and continued.
“The First Star Lord is fundamentally a ghost. He can freely move through most terrain. But the Cliffs of the Dead are sheer vertical cliffs, narrow ledges, ladders, and twisted cave tunnels. So the question is—can you actually catch the First Star Lord there?”
Absolutely not.
That was something he had learned over and over again playing Paladin of Blood.
No matter how much of a veteran he was, that was one thing he could never do. The boss of the Cliffs of the Dead, the First Star Lord, simply couldn’t be captured inside his own domain.
So the only way was to bait him out—to lure him outside the Cliffs. That had always been the canonical storyline of Paladin of Blood.
And of course, this time would be no different.
“So, if we want to really catch that bastard and smash him, we’ve got to lure him out of the Cliffs first.”
“Indeed. That’s a convincing argument. Now that I hear it this way, the Demon Lord appears... a little different.”
“...Hm? How did I look before, then?”
“Shall I speak frankly, setting aside my duties as a Recorder?”
“If you want.”
“You just looked like someone who didn’t think at all.”
“...What?”
“And you solved most problems with nothing but brute force and fear.”
“...”
“And whenever something went wrong, you’d blame your innocent subordinates and kill a few of them as an example.”
“...”
“It’s the truth. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own actions?”
“...”
“If you really have forgotten, I can show you a few excerpts from the records at the time...”
“...”
This was Demon Lord Credos.
How the hell had he been living all this time? Why was Kim Jangcheol the one hearing these things because of him?
Kim Jangcheol stifled his urge to argue and quietly resented Credos, who must have gone around throwing his weight around and acting like a full-blown tyrant while basking in the Demon Lord’s authority.
“...Tsk. Anyway. We lure the bastard out and capture him. That’s our starting point.”
“Then, do you have a specific method in mind to draw the First Star Lord out?”
Zephyros asked.
Despite having just flung a stream of barbed honesty masked as advice, Zephyros was inwardly surprised.
‘Is this really... the same Credos I know?’
The more he saw, the more things didn’t add up.
The Credos of old wasn’t like this.
There wasn’t a shred of intelligence in him.
He was just a terrifying figure who spilled blood at the slightest irritation.
“...”
And yet, why was this new Demon Lord making him feel... hopeful?
Thinking it was truly odd, Zephyros allowed himself a faint sense of anticipation. And he waited—waited to see what clever, brilliant scheme this newly changed Demon Lord Credos would unveil to lure out the First Star Lord.
But instead, an unexpected answer came out of the Demon Lord’s mouth.
“A special method? I don’t have one.”
“...Pardon?”
“I said I don’t.”
“Then...”
“I’ll just keep farming. What else can I do?”
“...”
“That’ll make him nervous. Eventually, he’ll crawl out of the Cliffs on his own.”
“But why...?”
“What do you mean, why? Think about it. What does the First Star Lord want? For our farming to fail, for us to starve to death, right?”
“Yes, that’s—ah.”
“Now you get it?”
“Yes. Completely.”
Zephyros nodded.
“If our farming progresses smoothly, that itself becomes the most unique and powerful tactic.”
“Exactly. That’s the whole point. Our potatoes grow well? Our vast fields overflow with harvests? Then that First Star Lord bastard’s going to get antsy and jumpy.”
“As expected.”
Zephyros was quietly impressed. Sometimes, the most ordinary tactic could become the most exceptional and effective one.
And at the same time...
“Why aren’t you writing this down?”
“...Pardon?”
“You were impressed by what I just said, weren’t you?”
“No. Not particularly.”
“Tsk? Sure looked like you were impressed.”
“I believe you were mistaken.”
“Anyway, why aren’t you writing it down?”
“You mean the record?”
“Yeah. You said you record everything I say or do. So why not now?”
“...was the petty remark he made with a sulky expression.”
“...”
“Usually, I write down extremely important moments on the spot, while the rest of the day’s trivial matters are remembered in full and compiled altogether in the evening.”
“So you’re saying the powerful strategy I just laid out—was just trivial?”
“...was the petulant complaint he made like a stingy penny-pincher.”
“...”
Just forget it. Forget it all.
In the end, Kim Jangcheol let out a small, defeated laugh. And then he poured even more energy into pushing forward with the farming project, his most powerful plan to lure out the First Star Lord.
And that wasn’t all.
Kim Jangcheol even prepared a small, special kind of fan service (?) just for the First Star Lord.
An event—or rather, a provocation—designed to make the First Star Lord, who was no doubt watching from somewhere, not only lose his composure but mentally flip into a full-blown triple axel of frustration.
♣
Surely, it was about time that the provocation bore fruit.
So why had Pikamir not returned? Why had there been no word? Where was his loyal subordinate?
“...”
Sartul, the First Star Lord of the Abandoned Land, felt just a faint hint of nervousness. He lifted his head. Upon the throne where his translucent body was seated, a sliver of the moon could be seen through the skylight above.
A waning moon.
It had already been three days.
Three days since he had sent General Pikamir to the Demon Lord’s castle. Since he had ordered his most treasured subordinate to destroy Credos’ fields.
And yet, how was it that not a single word had come back, even as the third moon had risen?
“...”
Surely… he hadn’t failed?
Just as unease began to quietly rear its head—
...tzzzrrrk!
The crystal orb placed in front of his throne began to glow. It was a communication crystal linked to the scouts he had stationed throughout the Demon Lord’s castle.
The First Star Lord narrowed his eyes and fixed them on the orb. Soon, a live video feed from one of the scouts began to appear in the crystal.
But the scene that appeared—
“...Hmm?”
At that moment, the First Star Lord nearly rubbed his eyelids raw from what he saw in the crystal’s live feed. A part of him even briefly wondered whether he was developing farsightedness.
And there was only one reason why.
‘Why… is Pikamir tied to a pole?’
He couldn’t understand it.
He could hardly believe it.
But no matter how he looked—upright, upside down, from every possible angle—it was the same.
A single, absurdly placed pole stood tall in the middle of a potato field. And tightly, expertly bound to it was none other than his own loyal subordinate, the ghost general Pikamir. That much was undeniable.
‘What in the…’
He was speechless.
But then, the scout ghost shifted its gaze. Following that shift, the area surrounding the pole where Pikamir was tied came into view in the crystal orb. And upon seeing it, the First Star Lord felt what little sense he had left scatter into atomic particles.
‘A festival…?’
Indeed.
It was unmistakably a festival.
Around the pole-bound Pikamir, lower-ranking demons were dancing gleefully. One of them was even waving a flag.
The First Star Lord carefully read the text written on the flag.
“(Congrats) …2nd Lightning Rod… Inauguration Ceremony… (Celebration)…?”
Lightning rod?
Inauguration ceremony?
Don’t tell me—Pikamir?
My loyal subordinate?
Is now being crowned the new lightning rod?
“...”
The moment he witnessed that horror live in the crystal feed, the First Star Lord Sartul involuntarily clenched his teeth in rage—crack!
But Kim Jangcheol’s provocation didn’t end there.
No, this was only the beginning.