Lord of Disease (JP-GL) 297

297: A Battle That Cannot Be Avoided

The high city walls of Fort Litalside, several times a man’s height.

The surrounding area was a wasteland, with only a few patches of grass. The vegetation around the walls had been carefully cleared, and there was no cover. No wood that could be used for siege weapons.

And this wall had no gate.

The walls of Litalside had been built to protect everything behind them. They were not designed for a sortie.

“Everyone, descend. Don’t be slow to regroup.”

Bringit Finis’s voice echoed in the night.

Countless ropes hung halfway down the wall, and they used them to slow their descent, then jumped the rest of the way. As the commander had said, they regrouped quickly and in an orderly fashion.

The lack of a gate was an inconvenience for the defenders, but for the attackers, it was a nightmare. There were no weak points, and they had to endure the rain of magic, arrows, and rocks, and destroy the thick walls.

Some might say they could just cross the Lital Mountains, but that was a fool’s thought. Those mountains were feared not only as the ‘home of the dragons,’ but also as a ‘nest of avalanches.’ The lower elevations, where the walls ended, were manageable, but they were lined with watchtowers, and a large army would be detected immediately. And for humans to challenge the physically superior demons in a high-altitude battle was the height of folly.

That was probably why they had prepared the catapults. To safely chip away at the enemy’s strength from outside their range. The humans had wanted such an illusion.

“The Third and Fourth Armies may disperse. Listen to your commanders, and as long as you don’t kill each other, do as you please. The Second Army will form up. Those with shields, to the front, and in front of the archers in the rear. Don’t let any arrows through.”

In the darkness of the night, the descended forces moved, splitting into three groups.

From the left, the Third Army, the Beastman Army, the Second Army, the Dark Knights, and the Fourth Army, the Undead Army.

The black armor of the Second Army, in the center, and the brown skin of the dark elves, though unintentional, were perfect for a night raid.

The Third and Fourth Armies moved away. An illusion had already been deployed, and their figures melted into the darkness, as if they weren’t there at all.

“Dark Knights, advance slowly. Do not break formation.”

The Dark Knights, in their orderly formation, advanced slowly. And all the while, large rocks rained down on Fort Litalside—no, on Litalside, including the city behind it. As long as the bright light of the magic barrier was shining, they were safe. But the enemy was using mere rocks, and they were using magic. The enemy’s expenditure was far less.

When they were far enough from the walls, she gave the order.

“—Light the torches.”

A chorus of “[Tinder],” and the torches were lit.

The dark elves had night vision, and the humans did not. She had abandoned that advantage. But the humans’ confusion was far greater.

A simple job, to break down the enemy’s walls with catapults, protected by a large army, from a safe distance. That premise had been shattered. The difference in their numbers was ten to one, or more. The enemy was outnumbered. And yet, the humans were terrified.

Among the deployed army, few had ever fought a demon.

And if they had, it had been a naturally occurring undead or a demon.

The demons, who had been the stuff of legends, had become the inhabitants of a nightmare in just three years, an enemy whose extermination was necessary for the survival of humanity.

And the Dark Knights. The horrifying demons in their matching black armor, of whom the elderly veterans, who could no longer serve, spoke with an unfading terror.

They had noticed their approach, even before the torches were lit. Those who had been sleeping had been woken up, and the battle lines, which had been prepared for a night raid, had been reinforced.

But to see them so clearly, was more terrifying than when they had been hidden in the darkness.

Arrows began to fly from the human army. They were still at the edge of their range, but it should have been a deterrent…

The Dark Knight in the lead, in her crimson armor, her silver hair tied back in a high ponytail, drew her sword and cut down the arrows with a casual air. The others, too, deflected them with their shields, cut them down with their swords… with the carelessness of swatting a fly, their advance did not slow.

“Cease firing! No more arrows! Offensive magic! Unleash the offensive magic!”

An order, a scream, was given, and it was carried out.

““““[Fireball]”””””

[Fireball] was chosen, and it flew through the air, towards the clear targets, illuminated by the torches.

““““[Shield]”””””

And a barrier, glowing with a pale blue light, was deployed above them, and the explosions lit up the sky.

At the same time, the torches were extinguished. The Listrean army was plunged into darkness.

A rumbling sound, like an earthquake, the sound of footsteps.

When the fantastical brightness, which they had created together, disappeared, the light of their own torches was not enough for the humans, whose eyes had grown accustomed to the brightness.

The long spears, which had been thrust into the ground to stop the charge, were casually cut down, trampled, and their owners were cut down. And the torches were targeted, and the darkness deepened.

The confusion of the darkness spread, and it quickly turned into shouts and screams. Swords, swung blindly in the darkness, wounded their own allies, and those who thought they had been attacked by a demon retaliated—and friendly fire broke out everywhere.

The front line was collapsing in an instant.

They should have been stopped here.

They had prepared the numbers. But the quality was too different. The darkness of the night was on the enemy’s side, and their equipment, their training—and their resolve, everything was different.

And the unit that had been deployed near the catapults had seen hell.

The landscape shimmered, and two armies, which had not been there before, appeared. One, an undead army, exuding a blue-green aura that defiled the serenity of the night. The other, a beastman army, with the eyes of a nocturnal beast, glinting in the faint light.

“Gah…”

“No—”

“Do not falter!”

The human army, on the verge of a complete collapse, was barely held together by a voice that echoed across the battlefield, amplified by magic.

“—Dispel the illusion! I commend you for thinking of using an illusion! But it is a mere imitation of our own!!”

And another curtain of illusion fell.

Behind the catapults, an army, which seemed to be almost the same size as the one that had just been cut down, was lined up.

“Encircle them! Do not let them reach the catapults! With them, we will take the stronghold of the abominable demons!”

Torches were lit, and the darkness was dispelled. With the sound of disciplined footsteps, the regular soldiers, though their equipment was a little mismatched, advanced.

The surprise attack had failed. The disparity in their forces had widened.

A retreat was unavoidable. The Listrean attackers had made that judgment, but like disciplined soldiers, they waited for the order of their superior—their commander-in-chief, Bringit Finis. And the order was given.

“All forces, advance.”

The confusion was greater on the human side.

“—Break through the enemy lines. Including the previous army, it’s only a twenty-to-one ratio. A simple job, of cutting down twenty men each.”

Her clear voice commanded, as if it were nothing. In reality, the difference in numbers was a form of violence. The enemy was not an amateur. And while the demons were physically superior, if the physical enhancement magic closed that gap, then all they could rely on was their skill, honed over a long lifetime. And even then, with a twenty-to-one disparity in their forces.

“The order has not changed. We have come to protect everything behind us. —Therefore, our job has not changed.”

No one said a word. It was a mad statement. Among humans, it was common to surrender, with only the condition of sparing their lives, before a battle.

“You may die, but I do not order you to die. After we break through the center and destroy the catapults, you are free to act on your own judgment. Looting is also permitted. The kind humans will provide for us. It is a time-honored method, practiced by our ‘friends in the Sixth Army.’ Leave your pride to me and her.”

It was not an order that a young dark elf woman should be giving, in the face of such a numerical disadvantage.

But it was only natural. For both sides, there was no concept of a prisoner. Between humans and demons, there was no agreement to stop the fighting, or to minimize the bloodshed. All they could do was fight until one of them was destroyed.

“And besides, if we were to retreat here, they would underestimate us, thinking they could force a retreat with a mere ten- or twenty-to-one advantage. Even though we have no place to retreat to. Can you forgive that? —I cannot.”

Laughter spread.

And everyone’s face became a mask of a demon.

This was the place to die.

This was the place to use their lives.

There were things more important than life.

“Very well. That is the spirit of the protectors of Listrea. That is the spirit of the Litalside garrison. —Now, let us show them what they have made an enemy of.”

The difference in their numbers was clear. And the difference in their morale was also clear.

For the humans, the nightmare had only just begun.