The Behemoth Wolf Cavalry crossing the Wasteland and the border line to reach Outpost County was like a massive stone thrown into a calm lake, causing an enormous uproar across Saint Cassis Continent.
Both the Kingdom of Locke and the Holy See had practically become laughingstocks for the major powers.
Not only were there tens of thousands of Locke Kingdom border army troops, but also a full-strength Papal Earth Dragon Legion. Yet so many Wolf Cavalry had nearly charged into Outpost County as if no one stood in their way.
Love, commander-in-chief of the Locke First Legion guarding the border, was recalled to the Royal City by a single royal order.
In truth, Love had been wronged. Outpost County had seen no war for many years. To the Behemoths, the Barbarians of the Wasteland were free enforcers and a natural barrier. Wasn't the same true for humans?
Whether humans wanted to attack the Behemoths or the Behemoths wanted to cause trouble in human lands, the first opponents either side would encounter would undoubtedly be the tens of thousands of fierce barbarians. That gave the side reacting to the attack time to prepare.
But this time, the Behemoths had grown smarter. Countless Wolf Cavalry gathered after scattering apart, actually bypassing innumerable barbarian tribes. Perhaps many Wolf Cavalry had been discovered or even killed by the barbarians, but the barbarians were no saints. The Wolf Cavalry were going to make trouble for humans, so why would they waste their time coming to sound the alarm?
Taking a step back, who could have imagined that, because of a Descendant of Titan Bloodline, the Behemoths—who had endured in silence for years—would send a large force of Wolf Cavalry through the Savage Ancient Plains without anyone noticing, all to snatch someone away?
Love was no fool. As the commander of an army guarding the frontier, he had calculated the timing. Right as the Wolf Cavalry crossed the Great Wilderness, certain important figures in the Royal City just happened to send word, ordering him and his legionnaires to cooperate with the Papal Legion in military exercises. That gave the Behemoth Wolf Cavalry their opening.
If Xiulunte had not been behind this, Love would never believe it.
But what Love could not understand was this: what benefit did Xiulunte gain from Dina being abducted? The cardinals and the Pope were not fools. The truth would come out someday, and when it did, Xiulunte would not escape blame.
Still, that no longer had much to do with him. The Grand Duke would soon arrive in Outpost County to temporarily take command of the First Legion's border forces, while Love returned to the Royal City to receive punishment.
The various powers across the continent all watched the Behemoths' surprise attack on Outpost County as entertainment. Most believed the Behemoths had done it to teach the Holy See a lesson.
Like spectators trying to see flowers through fog, they did not connect any of this to an obscure maid. They assumed the Behemoths were merely warning the Holy See against sending the Heretic Extermination Legion into the Great Wilderness.
It made sense when one thought about it. How bored would the Behemoths have to be to go to such lengths to interfere in the Holy See's selection of a Saintess?
Thus, aside from a handful of people who knew the truth, everyone else simply watched the Holy See and the Kingdom of Locke make fools of themselves.
The Savage Ancient Plains were far from barren, and the barbarians belonged to neither the Holy See nor the Behemoth camp. They were a fully independent third party.
But when it came to resources, the human race led by the Holy See far surpassed the Behemoths. That was precisely why the Behemoths occasionally provided aid to the barbarians, using those muscle-brained fellows as free guards and hired thugs.
If the barbarians did not hold the Great Wilderness, then once the Holy See opened a path through the Savage Ancient Plains, the gates of the Behemoth Kingdom would be exposed to the human race. At that point, the Holy See could lead the major human powers to beat up the Behemoths whenever they pleased.
For a time, every major power turned its attention to Outpost County, especially the Earth Dragon Legion stationed to the north. Everyone waited eagerly to see how the Kingdom of Locke and the Holy See would save face.
Yet Outpost County, at the center of the storm, remained as peaceful as ever. Nothing had changed, and the commoners still muddled through their days as usual.
The only difference from before was that some "troublemaking commoners" had begun privately cursing their Lord.
Their reason was absurd. They basically claimed that the Lord of Outpost County was a selfish bastard who had secretly gone to the north gate, killed a large number of Wolf Cavalry, and claimed all the spoils for himself. He had supposedly feared that the commoners would help him resist the Wolf Cavalry, then demand a share of the loot.
Originally, under Wood and Yorkshire's deliberate arrangements, the Wolf Cavalry's surprise attack should not have spread throughout little Outpost County.
The northern gate area was especially deserted. There was only one road there, and it led toward the Fierce Beast Forest and the Great Wilderness. No one would go there without reason. Little Zack and Big Babylon had boldly entered the center of Outpost County through the north gate in the first place.
Moreover, after Allen passively triggered the Mana Element martyr explosion, Wood and Yorkshire had ordered the Wolf Cavalry corpses buried immediately. They also announced that the firelight at the north gate had been caused by Lord Allen setting fires out of boredom.
Most people had accepted that explanation, and the matter gradually calmed down.
Yorkshire and Wood knew they could not hide it from people who truly cared, but fooling the commoners was no problem.
Even the few involved parties in the Old Castle kept silent about it. Wood and Yorkshire also helped conceal the truth to prevent panic.
Yet despite all their calculations, the two still failed in the end. Their mistake was that Allen had not kept a low enough profile. He had sent an entire cartload of spoils to a certain big-mouthed blacksmith.
The big-mouthed blacksmith was extremely high-profile. His workshop was piled full of Wolf Cavalry scimitars. Whenever anyone asked, Rockhammer, the owner, would loudly shout, "Lord Allen killed plenty of Behemoth Wolf Cavalry! These are all spoils of war. See that? Lord Allen said my craftsmanship was excellent, or why else would he hand so many scimitars over to me?"
Then the troublemaking commoners of Outpost County became enraged. One after another, they accused their Lord of being selfish and hogging everything for himself. No one had come to plunder Outpost County for years, and then so many Wolf Cavalry arrived to hand out aid. Yet their Lord had not even informed them, only thinking of profiting by himself.
When Yorkshire told Allen about the rumors outside, the selfish Lord could only shake his head with a bitter smile.
The situation had been desperately urgent. If not for his concern for the county's residents, and if not for the Bloody Hoof Tribe's barbarians acting as free fighters, he would have fled long ago with Dina and the others.
Whenever Allen recalled the situation, lingering fear rose in his heart. During his fight with that bear-man, he had nearly lost half his life. Later, he had escaped danger only because Okas appeared, and he had inexplicably gained Dragon Power, allowing him to kill the bear-man and drive back the Wolf Cavalry.
But none of that mattered now. He had already finished discussing matters with everyone. At dusk, they would leave Outpost County together. Aside from Dina, Old Butler Leisi, Sakre, and Sakre's four lackeys would also head to the Great Wilderness, with Old Zak and Big Babylon serving as guides.
As for how he would search the Great Wilderness for clues about Dina's biological mother, Allen could only take things one step at a time.
Still, Allen did not mind going to the market to settle accounts with a certain big-mouthed blacksmith.
The bald giant Rockhammer was an honest man. He had worked overtime to melt down several hundred scimitars, though perhaps that was also because he had not had business for a long time.
When Allen reached the blacksmith shop, before he could even pick a fight, Rockhammer brought out a massive pitch-black thing from inside.
"Fuck! What is this?" Allen froze and muttered, "You made this thing out of all those scimitars?"
Seeing Allen's unfriendly expression, Rockhammer tossed the thing onto the ground and said irritably, "Lord, I don't accept returns."
Allen pointed at the strangely shaped weapon on the ground, utterly speechless.
It looked much like a halberd, but its total length reached two meters. Its upper end was not a long spear blade, but four small Meteor Hammers. The spear tip at the very top, which should have been shaped for thrusting, had instead been made into an axe-like blade covered in serrations. Other than the grip and the middle section, the entire weapon was as thick as a forearm and covered in barbs.
Sakre behind Allen burst into laughter. It was his first time seeing such a strange weapon. It seemed as though this half-baked blacksmith had tried to combine countless heavy weapons into one.
Rockhammer wore an expression that said, "You don't know good stuff," as he explained, "The material has no impurities at all. It's all refined steel, forged again after being purified from those scimitars. I originally planned to make dozens of Knight Greatswords, but I was afraid you wouldn't be able to use so many, Lord, so I melted them all together."
If Rockhammer had not said that last part, Allen would not have been so angry. Damn it, you might as well have made dozens of Knight Greatswords. At least then I could sell them for some money.
"Do you think I'm an idiot? How am I supposed to use this thing? Should I chop with it or slice with it? Why don't you show me?" Allen snapped in embarrassment and anger. "Who carries something this huge when they go out? Do I use it as an axe, a halberd, or a hammer?"
Rockhammer gave him a thumbs-up. "Lord, you really know your stuff. Just as you said, it can slice, chop, and cleave. You can swing it or thrust with it. If you want to smash things with it, it handles that well too. Use it however you want."
"You can't tell when someone's insulting you, can you?" Allen could no longer tell whether this man was genuinely stupid or pretending.
Sakre stopped laughing and lightly hooked the strange weapon with his toe. But when he exerted force, his smile froze, because the oddly shaped weapon did not move at all.
Looking embarrassed, Sakre bent down and gripped the bottom handle with both hands. Only after sweat began to form on his face did he manage to lift it.
"It's that heavy?" Seeing that Sakre did not appear to be faking, Allen reached out with his right hand and steadily took hold of it.
"Why is this thing so heavy?" Sakre, relieved of the burden, put away his contempt and looked solemnly at Rockhammer.
He knew very well that whether a weapon was suitable for killing enemies did not always depend on its appearance or sharpness. Its ability to withstand punishment was what mattered most. Especially for heavy weapons, weight often represented quality and durability when wielded in wide, powerful arcs.
Rockhammer still wore that simple, honest expression. "Didn't I just say it? I removed the impurities from those scimitars, melted them all together, and forged them into this."
Allen did not know the trade, and neither did Sakre. But one of the lackeys behind them looked utterly shocked and cried out involuntarily, "A master weaponmaker!"
"What does that mean?"
Seeing his master and Allen looking at him questioningly, the lackey explained what a master weaponmaker was.
A master weaponmaker was generally a title for an extraordinarily skilled blacksmith. Such a blacksmith could take hundreds or even thousands of pounds of steel, repeatedly hammer and forge it, continuously compressing it while improving its quality and hardness, ultimately reducing its volume.
Master weaponmakers did not forge weapons through conventional methods. Instead, they infused Battle Aura into them. In other words, for this kind of forging, a blacksmith had to be at least Third Tier in Battle Aura. Only after reaching the Martial King stage could one continuously infuse Battle Aura into steel for long periods. Even a Martial King might not be able to melt so many scimitars together within a few days.
Of course, master weaponmakers were little more than legends. None of them had ever seen one. They had only heard that the famous Blind Dragon Sword Saint's weapon had been forged by a master weaponmaker.
"Dragon Slaying Halberd!" Allen spun it in a flourish, thoroughly pleased.
The fierce wind raised by the Dragon Slaying Halberd made everyone in the blacksmith shop's faces sting.
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