Chapter 53 : The Frontier Lands 

After a day of full rest in the First Settlement, Curtis  had retired early. When dawn broke, he rose with it—refreshed, alert, and ready.

As the group gathered for an early meal, Curtis  noted with curiosity that the others, especially the clerics, looked markedly different than the day before.

It was no simple change of clothes—they had transformed.

Though not encased in full plate armor as known in Earth’s tales, the clerics now wore reinforced steel over nearly every vital part: helm, breastplate, backplate, pauldrons, vambraces, cuisses, greaves.
A militant order clad in divine purpose. Their armor rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, that of a city’s standing army.

Only elite mercenaries from factions like Terty, Gaud, or Narok’s Silver-ranked might wear such gear.

“Um… Sister Jenny,” Curtis  asked softly, after breakfast, “I heard that those with you today are clerics trained in martial arts?”

She nodded, replying in kind, “Indeed. The teachings of the Church are not bound to the quill alone. Those among us with talent in martial disciplines are guided toward that path.”

“Seems the Church supports them well. That equipment must’ve cost a small fortune.”

“A necessity, I’m afraid,” she said with a sigh. “The nature of this region demands a measure of force. Still, not every cleric receives gear like that. We only have a few sets, rotated as needed.”

Curtis  offered a respectful nod. “Impressive, nonetheless.”

But the transformation was not universal. Jenny, a non-combatant, wore her usual robes. And Lilia, though not clad in armor, bore a longsword at her waist and a flanged mace strapped to her back. The weapons clashed oddly with her pristine white vestments—yet somehow, it suited her.

Like a saint gone to war, Curtis  mused.

“Let’s ride!”

With the sun cresting the horizon, they left the First Settlement and turned away from the usual paths, striking out toward places others had long forsaken.

They rode at ease, dispatching minor corrupted creatures along the way without slowing their pace. Around noon, something appeared on the horizon—dark silhouettes and broken lines etched against the land.

As they drew closer, the remnants of a ruined village came into view.

Shattered fences. Collapsed roofs. Scattered bones of walls long dead. The skeleton of a dream that once stood.

“Let’s stop for lunch here,” Lilia called.

After a quick survey of the ruined interior, the group made camp near a quiet brook that trickled nearby.

While they ate, Jenny shared the tale of the place.

“No one knows which corrupted overran this village.”

“Is that possible?” Curtis  asked. “Ah… I suppose no survivors?”

Jenny nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. The land itself is well-placed—defensible, fertile—but they built too soon. No proper reconnaissance was done.”

In the frontier, location mattered, yes. But safety came first.

New villages were usually established like grapes on a vine—gradually branching outward from secure hubs. One step at a time. Cautious expansion.

But there were always those who loved risk—land speculators, daring mercenaries. Some saw fertile ground and staked their flags early.

If they succeeded, they were hailed as pioneers. If they failed—they vanished.

This village was one of the latter.

“They rushed construction and skimped on guards. They tried to save coin, and it cost them everything,” Jenny said coldly.

Corrupted had instincts, not intellect. Like beasts, they rarely wandered far from their territory—so long as humans stayed out of their domain, they didn’t bother with them.

That’s what made frontier work possible. Kill every corrupted in an area, and it became ownerless land. A blank canvas. A place to build.

But claiming a region once didn’t make it forever safe.

The corrupted multiplied quickly—and they fought each other constantly. Losers fled, searching for new ground. Sometimes, those paths brought them right back to human settlements.

“Usually it’s the weaker ones that get pushed out,” Jenny continued. “But not always. And some corrupted hold territory so vast, they go unnoticed… until it’s too late.”

“So this village was doomed before it began,” Curtis  said, glancing back at the ruins.

“Yes,” Jenny nodded. “Even if luck plays a part… a proper survey would’ve at least left survivors.”

“Could it have been some… extraordinary corrupted? Something powerful?”

“We’ve seen no signs of such monsters within the mapped zone,” she said. “At least, not yet.”

She paused, then sighed—casting a side glance at Curtis , her eyes faintly sharp.

“Normally, we wouldn’t risk this kind of site. But then again, Brother Curtis , you were clearly ensnared by Sister Lilia’s enthusiasm.”

“…I thought this was a joint decision.”

“It was. She insisted, and your skill was strong enough to make it viable. If things go wrong, we at least have a way out.”

“Don’t worry, Sister Jenny!” Lilia called cheerfully. “If something truly dangerous shows up, we’ll run! I brought extra horses just in case!”

“I suspect your definition of ‘truly dangerous’ differs from mine.”

“…We can… discuss that if it happens?”

Lilia looked away with a sheepish smile. Curtis  chuckled softly.

Then—a shift.

“Hm?”

Lilia’s head tilted. Her eyes narrowed. Her ears twitched.

“…Everyone up. Now.”

“What—?”

“I feel it. Subtle tremors. Something’s coming.”

It was Lilia’s miracle-enhanced body—her strength, her speed, her heightened senses—the Fifth Miracle, Body of Might, sharpening every instinct.

The group rose instinctively, trusting her warning.

From behind a rise near the ruined village, a soft plume of dust rose into the air.

The corrupted appeared.

“…Oh,” Lilia murmured, relaxing slightly. “Gnolls. Just gnolls.”

Relief spread quickly. Even Jenny allowed her shoulders to ease.

Though nearly thirty of the beasts came charging, their threat was laughable. For this group, gnolls were target practice.

“We’ll handle this one!” Lilia called.

“Be my guest,” Curtis  replied easily. Gnolls were so weak now, he doubted he’d even notice the experience gain.

Lilia turned to the armored clerics.

“Brothers, I leave this to you!”

“Yes, Sister!”

The five warrior-clerics formed a tight circle, reaching their hands into the center.

Lilia placed hers on top, completing the formation.

Like a team of champions preparing for The war.