This was a crusade launched to maintain the quality of a Retirement Life.
At least, that was how Celia saw it.
There was no departure ceremony, nor was there any pre-war mobilization.
Celia stepped out of the gate, and Elent followed behind with a Broad Sword on his back, carrying a bucket of Slime remains specifically brought along to help cool down.
Although by now, they appeared to have mostly melted.
“Miss Celia?”
Grandpa Bagla was sloppily wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve while holding a ladle used for distributing water.
When he saw the two of them walking out aggressively, his movements paused.
“There’s no need to wait in line anymore.”
Celia stopped in her tracks. The flagstone path in front of the Church had already been baked white by the scorching sun.
Villagers with cracked lips and faces drenched in sweat were still lining up in front of the well.
“The faucet is broken. Just fixing the pipes won’t do any good, so —”
Celia raised her hand and pointed toward the shimmering heat waves coming from the Black Forest.
The forest should have been a lush, deep green, but now a distorted, transparent haze of heat was rising from it.
“We have to go deal with the person who shut off the water valve.”
The crowd stirred for a moment, and then Barton the blacksmith squeezed through.
“Yeah, aside from the water shortage, this damn weather is actually hotter than the furnace I’ve been firing for 30 years. It’s too abnormal.”
“Count me in, too.”
Lillian, the Boss Lady of the general store, pushed through the crowd.
She gripped a large pair of scissors usually used for cutting fabric, while her other hand held a fan that she used to wave frantically.
“The flour in the Shop has gotten damp and sour, and the new batch of rouge has all turned to liquid.”
Lillian frowned and touched her dry cheeks.
“If it stays this hot, I’m going to start getting wrinkles.”
“Me too.”
Ariel the hunter walked out from the shade of a tree, carrying an old hunting bow on his back.
“The animals on the edge of the Black Forest have all run away, and the traps are all empty. If we don’t fix this, the Village won’t have any meat for the winter.”
It wasn’t for justice, nor was it for peace.
Farmers with Hoes, herders with pitchforks, and even a villager with a rolling pin — everyone’s reason for standing up was vulgar and real.
This damned heat and water shortage were affecting their ability to earn money and eat.
Compared to a “Hero slaying the Demon King” that only earned verbal thanks, this anger sparked by “not even being able to take a decent bath” was clearly more motivating.
“Iris.”
Celia glanced at the maid huddling in the corner.
“Lead the way.”
Iris looked at the group of villagers holding farm tools and then toward the depths of the Black Forest. Her legs felt a bit weak.
That was her sister’s legion.
The Plague Legion under her sister’s command was famous for its destructive power, a force that could create disasters with a mere wave of the hand.
Did these villagers think they were going to a street fight? Using Hoes and scissors to fight the Plague Legion?
“L-Lady Celia…” Iris attempted a final struggle. “It’s really dangerous over there. The Mana reaction from the source is very strong…”
“That’s your problem.”
Celia interrupted Iris.
“Either lead the way, or I’ll throw you into that dry well to cool off.”
Iris shuddered.
Compared to the Flame Demon General, the Witch before her — whose morning grumpiness still hadn’t faded — was clearly more oppressive to Iris.
“I’ll lead the way! I know a shortcut!”
……
The group barged into the Black Forest with great momentum.
The further they went, the more desolate the surroundings became.
The tree canopy that usually blotted out the sun now had leaves that were curled and yellow.
Sunlight pierced through the withered branches and hit the ground, baking the soil until it cracked into chunks.
“It’s so hot,” Lillian complained, her fan moving rapidly. “At this temperature, it must be 40 degrees, right?”
“More than that.” Barton wiped away sweat.
The Iron Hammer in his hand had become hot from absorbing heat, forcing him to switch hands.
“This doesn’t feel like the sun’s heat. It feels like the air next to a furnace, and it carries a smell of sulfur.”
Ariel walked at the front, stopping occasionally to check the traces on the ground.
“No footprints.” The Old Hunter squatted down and rubbed a pinch of black ash between his fingers.
“The beasts and Magical Creatures alike have all run away. This place is as clean as a stove that’s just been burned through.”
The group continued inward.
The dizziness from her low-grade fever, combined with the heat and lack of water, made Celia’s thoughts sluggish, and her head buzzed.
Her discomfort was slowly eroding her patience. Her original intention of just slacking off was replaced by a surge of anger.
This had to be resolved.
No matter who it was, anyone who turned her Happy Water into hot sugar water and forced her to go out under the blazing sun would have to pay a price.
Iris walked beside Celia, constantly monitoring the Witch’s expression.
As they drew closer to the source, the concentration of Fire Elements in the air rose sharply. The intense pressure made even breathing difficult.
But these villagers…
The Boss Lady, still holding her scissors, even had the leisure to pick a wild flower that hadn’t withered yet and tuck it into her hair.
The blacksmith uncle, carrying his Iron Hammer, was discussing with the others whether dough would rise faster in this kind of weather.
Did these people not sense the aura of lethal danger at all?
Or was it that, in their eyes, this really was just a routine pest control mission?
The closer they got to the river valley in the depths of the Black Forest, the thinner the moisture in the air became.
The wind blowing against their faces didn’t feel like wind; it felt like a scalding wet towel pressed against their noses and mouths, making them gasp for air.
“Cough, cough…”
Lillian covered her nose and mouth with a handkerchief while using her large scissors as a makeshift fan, but it did absolutely no good.
“How much longer until we get there? We must have walked quite a distance already.”
Celia walked in the middle of the group, so hot she didn’t even have the energy to complain anymore.
She felt like a piece of bread being toasted; the moisture in her body was draining away bit by bit, and her soul was slowly shriveling.
“Almost there, almost there. I can feel the Mana getting closer and closer…” Iris, who was leading the way, replied. She looked to be in even worse condition.
This Former Demon Lord Candidate’s face was as pale as paper, and her legs were trembling so fast she could have been pedaling a sewing machine.
The closer they came to the source, the thicker the smell of sulfur and Abyssal Magic in the air became.
“W-We’re here! Just up ahead!”
Iris stopped in her tracks and moved to the back of the group.
‘I wonder which of my sister’s subordinates has come to capture me? In any case, it’s bound to be a powerful core general.’
‘Will I really be able to survive this?’
‘Can Lady Witch defeat them?’
‘Should I take this chance to run away?’
Iris struggled with herself for a moment, but when she looked up, the group had already walked ahead and disappeared.
Ariel pushed aside a patch of withered yellow bushes and entered, with the rest following closely behind.
The view ahead suddenly opened up.
The river valley, which should have been a rushing river, was now nothing but a parched riverbed.
And in the center of the riverbed, a massive figure lay prostrate.
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