Chapter 289. The Second Key Material (2)
Kuuuuuuuuugh…!
Dozens of horses foamed at the mouth, their muscular necks, chests, and bodies drenched in sweat. Amidst the shouting to encourage them to pull harder and the commands from the knights and workers, the sound of grunting effort filled the air. Dust kicked up amidst the chaos, and through it, a massive step-stone was being transported.
This wasn’t a simple, flat step-stone. It had a unique structure at the edges where it met other stones, resembling a speed bump, designed to interlock perfectly with the adjacent stones. Thus, dozens of horses were tasked with hauling this immense stone among many other spoils of war, their mouths curved into victorious smiles.
After surviving the utterly devastating battlefield of a war that marked the end of the mythological era, they now turned their proud steps towards their homeland, towards human territories.
Suddenly…
Whizz! Thwack!
Arrows flew, striking one knight squarely between the eyes. This was quickly followed by a hail of arrows, targeting the dozens of horses and the people around them—utter chaos ensued. Screams rose as the knights prepared to retaliate, their anger genuine, directed at their own carelessness for allowing such an ambush and at the cowardice of their attackers who had launched the surprise attack without any warning. They were furious, brandishing their spears and swords, roaring their defiance, and assured in their belief that they were the strongest knights on the continent, unmatched by anyone on earth. They charged with this blind confidence, a confidence born from countless victories in plain-field maneuvers that no army or beast had ever overcome.
But in this battle, they were defeated.
If the knights fought as one with their horses, the attackers were truly one with theirs—bodies as sturdy as wild horses themselves. Where a horse’s neck should be, there was a human torso, a structure that allowed them agility no cavalry could match. Their incredible mobility allowed for sudden accelerations, abrupt stops, and sharp turns.
Finally, the continent’s mightiest knights fell. The workers fled in terror, and the attackers celebrated their easy victory by taking the step-stone with them, hauling it to the northwestern plains, sweat dripping down their faces. And so, time passed and the world changed; myths became legends, and the existence of the step-stone was all but forgotten.
Ding-dong.
[You have completed viewing the information on the Second Key Material, the Step-Stone of Taupo. If you wish to review this information, please press the Replay button below.]
“…Phew.” Lloyd exhaled the breath he’d been holding. Watching this image appear before him reminded him of the only time he had tried VR in South Korea—it was both fun and nostalgically reminiscent of simpler pastimes.
“Ah, I miss watching movies. Or dramas, or even YouTube.”
Suddenly, he felt an urge to watch some videos, to sprawl comfortably on a sofa or on the floor, holding a remote or a mouse, and spend hours watching movies, dramas, or variety shows—just mindlessly watching something was deeply missed, as it was an activity not easily pursued in this world.
“Tsck. That’s why. They use myths and historical recordings to deliver information via video. Makes you crave TV.”
Lloyd grumbled inwardly, but he also did not forget to review the content of the video he had just watched.
“The Second Key Material of the True Jewel of Aotearoa was the step-stone.”
He recalled the structure at the edge of the giant step-stone, which was not unfamiliar to him.
“If the material corresponding to General Totals’ Burial Mound was Taurenga, then this second key material, Taupo, exactly fits. It’s the bottom step-stone of a General’s Tomb, with a structure and principle very similar.”
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
“The step-stones played a critical role in bearing the enormous weight of the General’s Tomb. Like a shoulder partner, its unique lip structure intertwined with the stones next to it, distributing and bearing the massive weight from above.”
As he pondered, the form and structure of the step-stone he had just witnessed in the video closely resembled that of the bottom step-stone of the General’s Tomb.
“And the attackers…”
As Lloyd rode high above on the back of Yongyong, he revisited the appearance of the attackers.
“They’re exactly that. Centaurs.”
A race combining the bodies of horses with the upper bodies of humans, a natural cavalry race born to run and born to die running, their unique body structure often made one worry about how they managed to scratch their backs if covered.
“So the second key material was secured by the Centaur race.”
Concluding his thoughts, Lloyd sighed deeply.
The great war at the end of the mythological era had drawn every conceivable race into its vortex, and now the Centaurs had emerged.
“This world, seriously…”
He mulled over his grievances towards the author who had created this complex universe of Iron-Blooded Knights. At that moment…
“Have you recalled something else now?” Harviel’s voice suddenly came from beside him, his characteristic cool and cynical gaze directed at Lloyd.
Lloyd simply nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, I saw a hallucination-like video record.”
He made no effort to hide what he had seen, as there was no reason or need to hide such matters related to legendary artifacts from the mythological era. Being honest about these minor details would ensure Harviel didn’t suspect him.
The more secretive and evasive he was, the less likely it was to achieve anything substantial, Lloyd believed. Especially since he needed to keep his true identity hidden from Harviel at least until he revealed the truth to the count and countess.
“I watched the situation after the mythological era wars, how the knights were ambushed while transporting the second key material, the step-stone.”
“An ambush, you say?”
“The Centaur race. They trampled the knights and took the step-stone.”
“Then our next destination must be the northwestern Klamath Plains.”
“That’s right, exactly there.”
Fortunately, unlike the Merfolk Kingdom, the homeland of the Centaur race was well known—a plateau in the northwestern part of the continent.
“It’s inland, quite high in latitude, so it’s very cold and dry—a harsh living environment not coveted by any kingdom.”
As desolate and infertile as it was, it had remained independent, untouched by human hands, and no kingdom had established itself there, allowing the Centaur race to thrive to this day.
“So, shall we go, Yongyong?”
Creeeak!
Yongyong the bonedragon seemed to understand his intent and turned in the direction of the sun to the south, leaving the Arctic Ocean behind, flying past the northern tip of the continent.
As they flew, the landscape below transformed—tundra and taiga forests passed below them, and the snowy caps on the endless coniferous forest lightened. Soon, a vast mountain range loomed up, reaching nearly to the 3,000-meter altitude where they flew.
Passing several peaks, they finally came upon the average elevation of 2,500 meters—the expansive Klamath Plains, the largest plateau in the northwestern part of the continent.
Lloyd landed Yongyong at the edge of the plains.
“Yongyong? Stay here and play for a bit.”
Creeeak?
“Sorry. If the people here see you, they might get too startled. It could be misconstrued as an invasion. But if you give me that look, I feel guilty.”
Creeeeak…
Yongyong seemed a bit downcast but nodded.
Lloyd’s mouth twitched into a bitter smile.
In these situations, he felt a bit sorry, but it was necessary. “Yongyong’s mere appearance was too intimidating—perfect for making a bad first impression with the local Centaurs. I’ll have to play ball with him later to make up for it.”
With that promise to himself, Lloyd and Harviel ventured deeper into the plains.
As they rode along on the plump back of Ppodongi, several hours passed, and they surveyed the endlessly flat horizon.
“Something is approaching from this direction,” Harviel, sitting behind, pointed out.
Looking back, indeed, several black dots wriggled on the horizon, rapidly growing larger and bringing a cloud of dust with them.
“Stop! Foreigners must halt their unauthorized steps!”
Thudding hooves circled them counter-clockwise, the pulsing muscles of the horses, their fluttering tail manes, and the human torsos seated atop them, all clad in tight dark leather armor, armed with spears and bows, exuding a chilling gaze.
Literally one with their horses, it was the Centaur patrol.
“Phew. Those horse muscles in the armor—are they for real?”
Lloyd’s eyes roved over the encircling Centaur patrol, noting their number—about twenty strong, all exuding a formidable presence. Although a real fight would likely favor his side with Harviel present, that was beside the point.
Their stubborn independence was palpable.
Any slight against them, any disregard for their warnings, and those sharp spears and bows would likely target their hearts immediately.
“Well, they’ve been defending their territory for hundreds, if not thousands, of years from human encroachment.”
He understood completely but also thought of a way to break through their stubborn resistance.
“What shall we do?” Harviel’s voice came from beside him, poised as if to shield him.
Lloyd grinned.
“Why, there’s no need for a clash.”
Truly, there was no need for a senseless conflict with the Centaur patrol here—not when there was a more moderate, sound, and effective method available.
“Excuse me, just a moment.”
He stepped forward slightly, causing…
Swoosh!
The twenty spears of the Centaur patrol flashed in unison, targeting him.
But Lloyd didn’t blink. Even faced with the threatening spears, he calmly spoke, his memory of the Iron-Blooded Knights novel aiding him as he recollected and formed a magical offer to gain their favor and passage rights in one move.
“Hello, I’m Lloyd Frongtera, a human. I’ve heard that the Centaurs of this region are the fastest runners on earth. I was wondering if anyone here would like to prove that by racing me?”
“…!”
It was an unexpected challenge—a blatant provocation and dare.
The eyes of the Centaur patrol flashed with competitive instinct.
This ignorant human dared to challenge their pride.
Rapid starts, sudden stops, and sharp turns.
Freely accelerating without turn signals, even cutting across lanes without a blinker.
Indeed, if reckless running was the game, then no one on earth could match the plains-dwelling, speed-demon souls of the Centaur race.
“Fine. I’ll take you up on that,” the leader of the Centaur patrol said nonchalantly, pointing at a distant rock.
“We’ll start at the same time and the first to reach that rock wins.”
“Agreed.”
Lloyd mounted Ppodongi and lined up next to the Centaur patrol leader at the starting line.
And at the signal…
“Go!”
Ppodongi and the patrol leader kicked up dust as they sprinted side by side.
And about 15 seconds later…
Slap!
A red speeding ticket, doubling as a pass for the plains, was slapped onto Lloyd’s back.