Chapter 449 - Debut Battle (1)
The momentum of the West did not cool down after seizing merely one fortress. As soon as the necessary preparations were complete, they immediately set off for their next destination.
Because competitive wars were territorial battles.
Fall of Silverwatch.
Fall of Stonehill.
Fall of Westwatch.
Fall of Adhollow...
Though the Eastern defensive line fought valiantly, they could not halt the advance of the Mercenary King.
The skillful knight who butchered mercenaries was torn apart when the mercenary captains united against him, and whenever the enemy employed troublesome strategies, the Mercenary King along with a small elite force would infiltrate the fortress in secret and erase the command structure.
At times, his methods were honorably straightforward, at times, they were viciously cruel.
A warfare without a fixed color.
That was why countless groups avoided going to war with the Mercenary King.
"Retreat! Retreat!"
"Arghhhhhhh!"
Against tactics that slithered like a serpent, the East failed to seize victory and suffered defeat after defeat, swept away like fallen leaves in the autumn wind.
The land was stained with blood.
Yet, the East was not to be underestimated.
They were not a power dividing the Ownerless Land for nothing.
Count Toren's main force revealed itself to block the Western advance.
A misty plain, hazy enough to blur the sight.
Swords, magic, and arrows rampaged.
Amidst the battlefield where shouts and screams tangled like threads, the two sides clashed.
The Western mercenaries rampaged savagely, while the Eastern army formed ranks and calmly responded.
Kwaa-jijijijik!
Mercenaries in the cavalry failed to break through the shield wall, fell off their horses or flailed about, only to be riddled with arrows and die like porcupines.
A mercenary struck by mind magic swung his sword recklessly, only to be put down by his comrades.
Frozen solid mercenaries shattered to pieces under the maces of mounted knights.
Chwaaaak.
The Mercenary King shook the blood from his sword.
"It seems you've prepared for war well, your defenses are sturdier than before. Overall, more stable too... but these mercenaries are hardly worth the coin."
He strode forward leisurely.
"That won't do."
Boom!
In the blink of an eye, the Mercenary King widened his stride and shot forward.
He smashed into the shield wall, shaking it violently, and squeezed through the gap that opened.
He deflected the thrusting spears of terrified soldiers with ease, drawing a wide arc.
His core strength added weight.
A crimson aura, the most ordinary manifestation among those who awakened their qi, swept past, and blood spurted inside armor.
A formation of dozens collapsed.
The Mercenary King flicked up a fallen spear with his foot, caught it, and hurled it.
Puk!
It pierced the neck of a knight charging on horseback.
"Good."
His battle senses had sharpened fully.
He had perfectly adapted to the battlefield. Rinsing his mouth with water and spitting it out, he felt refreshed.
While grasping the overall situation, the Mercenary King rampaged across the battlefield.
Then it happened.
A knight order of unusual atmosphere blocked his path.
Eight in total.
It was Count Toren's personal knight order, nurtured with years of investment, and among them, the captain Marex was an acquaintance of the Mercenary King.
Marex tossed aside the severed head of a mercenary he held in his left hand.
"To think that the one called Mercenary King, representative of the West, would rampage so recklessly. Are you so confident even blind magic won't strike you?"
"Haha, hardly. I'm always wary of an arrow flying into the back of my head.... But then again, merely sitting safely and commanding doesn't suit a Mercenary King, does it? At least I must live up to my name, that's my philosophy."
The Mercenary King flicked his hand.
"And besides, this is more fun. Come at me."
"Kill him."
The knights split into three groups, charging from different directions.
Crossing swordlight.
The metallic clang that rattled the eardrums.
The battle was at such a high level that even strong warriors dared not intervene, so mercenaries and soldiers naturally drew back.
As the surroundings emptied, a battlefield within the battlefield emerged.
Changing Nature.
Unfolding his martial art, the Mercenary King brimmed with change.
The speed was unchanged, yet these were movements forged in countless battlefields. Without experiencing such duels, none could read them.
Tuh-uhng.
The Mercenary King pushed Marex away with recoil, then thrust his body into the gap. Stepping on the ground, he spun swiftly, flinging away the knights at his sides.
As he kicked at the lower body of the knight in front, the knight thrust out a bastard sword, forming a barrier.
Whoosh.
Suddenly, the trajectory of the kick shifted.
The vertical strike rose and smashed precisely into the knight's temple.
"Keuk."
Unable to endure, the knight dropped to his knees.
A cold blade slashed across his neck. The Mercenary King, not even glancing at the death he had created, moved even fiercer.
Grabbing his sword with gauntleted hand to protect it, pulling hard, smashing bone and muscle with his elbow, splitting the upper body in two with crimson sword aura.
The embodiment of war itself.
Though his body was aged, the Mercenary King's lifelong honed skill knew no form or boundary.
Life and death.
That was the Mercenary King's way.
Fiery Guard.
Knight Captain Marex blocked the Mercenary King's rampage with defensive martial art. The twisting of blades rang closely.
"In the old days, you were no different from these men. You've grown somewhat, it seems."
The Mercenary King grinned savagely.
"But Marex, isn't this power still far too little to face me? Do you have nothing else? At this rate, I might seize the Grand Lord himself."
"Try it if you can."
Marex bared his teeth.
"I've bought enough time."
───Kwoaaaaaaaang!
Suddenly, a massive explosion thundered from afar.
The Mercenary King instinctively shoved Marex away and retreated back, shifting his gaze.
"...!"
One of the small airships owned by the West was engulfed in flames and crashing. Dozens below were consumed in the explosion.
Sensing foreboding, he looked eastward to the sky.
A group of six appeared, led by an elderly Mage.
Among them, three manifested magic toward the ground.
Beams of destruction.
Three rays scorched the earth, leaving crimson scars and incinerating mercenaries.
Two Mages of the Mercenary Corps of Golden Ambition reacted swiftly, raising barriers of water and ice, but were pierced through at once and reduced to ash.
Heatwaves roared.
Recognizing the attire and face of the elderly Mage, the Mercenary King let out a hollow laugh.
"Melconi Blaud... To think the magic tower of the Volcanic Island would dispatch manpower, even an Elder. How much wealth have the Grand Lords poured in?"
"It'll be less than what they'd lose to the West."
Marex hurled a flask, and slashed it with sword aura to shatter it. Shards of glass and light scattered on the wind and clung to the Mercenary King.
His body shone brightly within the mist.
"Tch."
Instant Movement.
As if sniped, a 6th-tier flame spell surged. At the same time, the Mercenary King unleashed martial art and flung his body.
Barely escaping the range, he rolled across the ground and rose smoothly. The soaring heat evaporated sweat and parched his skin.
"As expected, facing an Elder of the magic tower only brings losses."
The Mercenary King relied on his own skill, and his diverse mercenary tactics.
But with an Elder present, both were rendered useless.
The magic tower of the Volcanic Island, ranked 6th overall, was specialized literally in the fire element, boasting overwhelming firepower on the battlefield.
'There is no way to block it.'
So long as they floated in the sky, it was disadvantageous to approach, and even if one did, sustaining fatal wounds was inevitable.
The unique flames cultivated by the Volcanic Island's magic tower over long ages were atrocious.
Marex furrowed his brow.
"Are you thinking of fleeing? You, Mercenary King?"
"It is what one calls a strategic retreat."
Puh-eong!
The Mercenary King unhesitatingly fired a signal flare, calling for reinforcement troops in case of unforeseen events. Outside the battlefield, a strategic magic item was activated.
Kwarrrrrrng!
Six bolts of lightning fell from the clouds, whitening vision and leaving ringing ears.
Immediately afterward, a mid-sized airship of the West appeared, focusing magical bombardment on Melconi, and in that time the Mercenary King seized a horse and withdrew with his mercenaries.
The East pursued for a while, then without hesitation retreated. If they advanced further, who knew what trap would greet them.
That was the kind of man the Mercenary King was.
At any rate.
In open battle, the East won their first victory.
From that point, the West halted its advance and assumed a defensive stance.
Thereafter, the two forces fought repeated skirmishes in the disputed region, focusing on seizing each other's land, or reclaiming lost fortresses.
***
Near the center of the disputed region, at the northern side, lay Duresque Fortress.
Grand Lord Kardric, leisurely enjoying transparent red wine and cheese, gazed at the war map with a satisfied smile.
"Quite smooth."
After cutting off the Western momentum in the open battle on the southern plains, the East had been steadily accumulating victories across the land.
Kardric, who had long since moved separately, had reduced Western fortresses to ruins with siege engines and then captured them.
'If we now solidify our gains step by step, even that great Mercenary King will have no recourse.'
Just as planned.
Chewing on cheese, Kardric approached the window.
"Kyaaaah!"
"Aaaargh!"
"Huaaaaak!"
Outside, Eastern soldiers toyed with captured Western mercenaries. Bound to wooden posts, they were subjected to merciless torture.
Female mercenaries captured alive lived fates worse than death.
Some asked.
How can one control and command thousands, tens of thousands, with so few?
Are you not afraid of betrayal?
The answer was simple.
It was to fulfill their desires.
Crimes committed in society, acts against ethical taboos, bring not only guilt but also a sense of perversion.
Used appropriately, they are an excellent means of raising one's own soldiers' morale, while instilling terror in the enemy.
Only the first time is difficult.
Strike, trample, kill, violate the same human being again and again... thus pour out ethical taboos, push the guilt onto commander and collective, leaving only a delightful pleasure behind.
Human desire is endless.
Stimuli circulate greatly, alternating dullness and novelty.
Emotions are thus both complex and simple.
Having had their fun, the soldiers burned prisoners alive and impaled them on stakes.
Those became meals for the crows.
Yet such cruel sights did not please the Elder of the magic tower.
"I was going to keep still, since I am in the position of being hired, but this is intolerable. Must I endure even the stench of burning corpses?"
Kardric responded instantly.
"W-we shall take immediate action, Elder."
At once, the prisoners' corpses were removed outside the fortress.
There was no helping it.
It was entirely thanks to the Elder of the magic tower that the Mercenary King's forces could be so easily held back.
At present, Melconi Blaud was not bound to any group, acting in the disputed region solely with five mages of the Volcanic Island's tower.
Secretly, so the Mercenary King could not learn his position.
Because of the danger that national-level power could descend overhead at any moment, the West had no choice but to act cautiously.
Then, Melconi asked.
"By the way, is there still no news from the Holy side?"
"No, still silent."
It was a question Kardric himself had been curious about.
Though much time had passed since the start of the competitive war, no movement from the North had been reported.
'Could it be that Liam has been assassinated?'
No, unlikely.
If Liam were dead, the neutral zone would have already announced the North's elimination.
'A rising power without even a single fortress is hard to find.'
Still, there was no need to worry.
If they showed themselves, they could be crushed at any time. Without the Holy Kingdom and elves, the North was but a background extra.
During that thought───news of the North arrived unexpectedly.
A commander guarding the walls rushed into the fortress to report urgently.
"Lord Kardric, outside right now...!"
***
Crowds gathered on the walls of Duresque Fortress.
At the center, Kardric narrowed his eyes and peered into the distance.
A strange group, less than twenty, stood shrouded in robes.
'...What is this?'
No wagons, not even horses.
Only they stood alone, still upon a small hill.
A most bizarre sight.
Then, one among them stepped forward and threw back her robe.
Silver hair tinged with violet.
A blue-eyed woman, no more than thirty at most, revealed her youth.
A face none had seen before.
As everyone stared, wondering what this meant, the woman looked toward Kardric and slowly parted her lips.
"I am Unia, from the North."
Her voice, amplified by air magic.
"I know there's an Elder of the Volcanic Island's magic tower here, one of the Council of Elders, Andranov. His name was Melconi Blaud, right? I heard he's been flying around, turning battlefields to ashes."
Lord Kardric's eyes widened.
"Is it fun, an old man like you, just slaughtering the weak? Do you really think you're great? If you're a magic tower Elder, a 6th-tier Magus, shouldn't you fight someone worthy?"
Unia smiled boldly.
"So come out and fight me. Strong against strong."
***
Melconi's location was a top secret.
To make maximal, flexible use of a magic tower Elder's power in the competitive war───this was the grand strategy, wrung out by the Grand Lords after days of careful deliberation.
But how did the North, of all places, know where Melconi was, and come find him?
'And moreover... to say fight one on one?'
Insane.
To dare challenge a magic tower Elder?
Though difficult to process, Kardric shook his head clear.
'We must not answer such provocation.'
No matter what, walking into the enemy's stage was the worst course.
Kardric turned his head.
"Elder, it is a trap. You must not accept their proposal..."
"A trap, is it."
Melconi tilted his head slightly.
Rebuked by some unheard-of, unripe fledgling. He knew it was blatant provocation, yet he could not ignore it.
For it pricked precisely the spot that had long been irking him, even amidst war.
And above all.
"So? Are you saying I, Melconi Blaud, should back down? Out of fear, because I don't know what that child is hiding?"
"Th-that is..."
"Shut your mouth. Before I burn you."
Kardric swallowed his breath.
If the Elder so much as gestured, he would be no different from the burnt corpses outside the fortress.
The Ownerless Land was not the center of the world.
It was simply a tool, created out of necessity. The Volcanic Island's magic tower was one such power that wielded the tool.
Melconi rose into the air.
None followed.
They knew what would happen if they angered such a powerful Magus. The tower mages accompanying Melconi watched solemnly.
Leaving the fortress, Melconi landed upon the hill opposite Unia.
"To think someone would dare speak such words knowing who I am. Too foolish to be called fearless, too excessive to be called bravado. Just what is the North scheming?"
"What scheming. I already told you. Strong against strong."
Unia declared.
"I, hereby challenge you to a one-on-one duel of magic, Melconi Blaud."
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