Raidorl Seiken Senki

Chapter 162: Awakened Disaster

Translated by SoundDestiny

Edited by Zil

Rewind the time a little further back in the? farther west of the Kingdom of Zain.

In the western part of the continent, the Kingdom of Zain and a number of smaller countries exist across the mountains.

The most powerful of these is the Kingdom of Athena on the northern coast.

The Kingdom of Athena trades with the Kingdom of Zain through shipping. The goods traded are mainly woolen cloth and sea products. It also trades in fruits such as citrus fruits grown in the warm climate of the west.

On the south side there is a country ruled by barbarians, which has been hostile for many years. On the west side, the Kingdom of Surdin, although not at war, is not on friendly terms.

Most of the profits from the alliance with the Kingdom of Zain are spent on defence, and tensions have long existed between the two borders to the south and west.

In the outskirts of the Kingdom of Athena. In a small provincial city, chaos is about to awaken.

“Chi!…it’s a shame. There’s nothing good about it..”

“Yare,Yare…… Looks like it was all for naught.”

In the moonlight darkness of the night, a very ugly looking man with a tattoo on his arm swears. His partner’s voice is answered by a large, muscular, skin headed man.

The men are in a cemetery on the edge of town.

In their hands they hold a large shovel, and beside them a gravestone has fallen. There was a large hole in the ground, with an open coffin and a half-rotted corpse lying in it.

They are grave robbers, digging up graves in the middle of the night to disturb the peaceful sleep of the dead.

An old man, one of the town’s most prominent figures, had recently died and was buried in the cemetery, and they were digging up the earth to find his burial accessories.

But the result was nothing. All that was found in the grave was the old man’s corpse, a few books and a silver coin, the cost of a ship to the underworld.

“I’d have thought a rich old man’s grave would have been filled with something very expensive. …… Damn you!”

“He’s a fallen aristocrat. It’s not even enough to pay for a drink. Oh, really. It’s not worth it, especially when the gravekeeper is away.”

The men cursed each other and sat down on the ground.

The tattooed man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a paper tube with a cigarette wrapped around it. He put the tip of the cigarette close to the light of the cantera, lit it and inhaled slowly.

The tattooed man blows purple smoke for a while, but then he frowns and takes his mouth off the cigarette.

“Aaa, it stinks! I can’t even taste it with this corpse smell, you rotten old man!”

The tattooed man irritably throws his cigarette butt into the hole. The cigarette, still lit, hits the dead old man in the face, leaving a scorch mark on his decaying corpse.

“Oioi,…well..that’s fine”

The skinhead looks aghast at his partner’s rudeness, but shrugs his shoulders and doesn’t pay any attention.

The old man is already dead anyway. He will feel no pain or heat. If he was a man who respected the dignity of the dead, he would not have been a grave robber in the first place.

The skinhead wipes his sweaty forehead with his arm and turns his head upwards without thinking.

The moon is hovering in the sky. It was a full moon, without a flaw.

But it is strangely larger than the familiar moon and seems to have a reddish tinge to it. It’s the kind of moon that makes him feel uneasy and anxious just looking at it.

The skinhead shook his shoulders and lowered his gaze to the sky.

“Well……we’ve done our job, so let’s get the hell out of here. I’ve got a bad feeling about this evening.”

“We can’t go home empty handed! I’ve got a bill to pay from the bar!”

“It’s your own fault, you know. I don’t give a shit.”

“Why don’t we smash up that mausoleum? It’s such a magnificent structure. There must be something good in there!”

“Fool, stop! It’s the Mausoleum of the Four Horsemen!”

The skinhead hurriedly waved his hand at the tattooed man who pointed to a square building at the back of the cemetery.

The chalk-white building is ornately decorated here and there, a magnificent structure for such a small-town cemetery.

But thinking of the people buried in the mausoleum, it would be madness to set foot in it.

The man buried in the mausoleum is a great traitor who was once known as the “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

In the west of the continent, he was feared as an evil spirit or a grudge, because he is said to have driven a dynasty to ruin two hundred years ago.

It is rumoured that the knights who made a pact with the wicked witch and received her powers were shot down by the heroes chosen by the Holy Sword of Water, and their corpses are sealed inside the mausoleum to ensure that they will never rise again.

“Damn…..that’s a fairy tale!　You’re a superstitious bastard!”

“My grandmother was familiar with that kind of folklore……Don’t say anything bad. Don’t go near that mausoleum!”

“Tsk!”

When his partner stopped him, the tattooed man clicked his tongue in abhorrence and hefted the shovel on his shoulder.

“It’s no use…….I’m not going to go there. Instead, I’m going to dig up a couple more new graves and you can help me. Maybe you’ll find a bargain ………..?”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“…………”

The tattooed man stopped speaking unnaturally and the skinhead asked him suspiciously. The tattooed man stood stunned, staring at a point in the cemetery with a dazed look on his face.

He followed his gaze and…..saw a girl standing there, bathed in moonlight.

She is a small girl. Her hair is chestnut brown, soft and wavy, and reaches down to her shoulders. Her face is as pretty and well-defined as if it were made by hand, and as exquisite and impeccable as a bisque doll made by a skilled dollmaker over a period of years.

At first glance, the girl really looked lifeless, like a doll: but even so, she couldn’t be a fake.

This was because the girl was walking on two legs, her head whipped around and her eyes were fixed on the grave robbers.

“Ho……”

“……!”

A sigh escapes from the girl’s mouth.

Instantly, a chill runs down the skinhead’s spine.

The girl’s eyes were looking straight into his eyes.

They were as golden as the full moon.