Lord of Disease (JP-GL) 345

345: A Silent Prayer

Another treatment was finished, and Rebecca called out to the outside of the tent.

“—Next.”

But the next patient didn’t come, and a single death knight entered the tent.

“Ah, that’s the last of them. Thank you for your hard work, Rebecca-sama, Lord of Disease.”

“I see…” Rebecca sighed. I, too, was exhausted, having been drained of my mana.

I leaned on my staff and stood up. My staff was originally a medium for defensive magic, a prop for show, but it could also be used to help me stand and walk. Since it was a staff.

“Alright… I’m going to go see… everyone…”

“Hmm… I’ll go, too.”

“My master, Rebecca-dono, is the treatment finished?”

“Somehow.”

“Yes, Harken. Is the roll call finished? —How many died?” Rebecca asked Harken.

“Yes. …Eighty-two. The remaining number is four hundred and twelve, including myself.”

That was an impossible number of casualties.

…We had only lost about two hundred so far.

Considering that we had killed most of humanity, it was too few.

If a historian from a later age were to see this, they would probably say that the numbers were wrong.

That a mere six hundred had, in less than a month, conquered a continent of humans.

The logistical records of the Sixth Army were terribly scarce. This wasn’t because I was slacking off on my paperwork, but because there were few living beings. There was no obligation to record the mana supply to the undead in wartime. The same was true for looted supplies… or rather, there were no regulations for that. The Listrean army was not originally intended to invade enemy territory. And there was no precedent for deploying Black Hound Barghests to the front lines.

I was keeping a record of the battles, but… the historians would probably cry. They wouldn’t know how much to believe. They would probably think it was a battlefield fairy tale.

Thanks to the Barghests, who were in contact with Lital-sama from time to time, our advance was quite smooth. We had made a killing in the small nations, and with that momentum, we had taken down Rank Kingdom, the Perte Empire, and the Holy Kingdom of Etrantal, in that order.

Since it was wartime, we were being thoroughly reckless. We were even ignoring the ‘safety limit’ for the undead’s life force absorption, though with their consent. While it hadn’t happened yet, it wouldn’t be strange if they were to become ‘husks’—literally, mindless, the end of an undead.

…It was fine for now. There was an ‘enemy.’ They could satisfy their increased daily requirements without any problem. But the reason there was a safety standard for life force absorption was because it was impossible to supply that amount on a daily basis.

I didn’t want a single one of my subordinates to die. But perhaps. If this many were to survive. If they were to ‘survive.’

“—Master.”

“Ah… Rebecca.” Rebecca’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“We should probably avoid combat for a while. More than half of them have just been treated for their injuries, and I can’t guarantee their lives if they were to fight. I don’t think there are any more units like that, so we should be fine.”

“Do we have… enough supplies?”

“They’ve all eaten a lot. We should be fine for a while. We should have enough to last until the decisive battle.”

“…I see. What about everyone else?”

“I’ve sent the healthy ones back to get the supplies we left behind. I’d like to move the camp a little further ahead and wait, if that’s alright.”

“Yes, I’ll leave it to you. …This place… smells of blood…”

How long would it take for the smell of blood, which had soaked into the ground and the air, to disappear?

It was almost dawn, but we decided to spend the day at the new camp.

Many of them couldn’t move right away, and besides, my and Rebecca’s fatigue was also near its limit. Samarkand had also used up almost all of his mana, so it would take a few days for him to fully recover, and Liz, too, though she was acting fine, had just been in a major battle.

There was also the hope that the field operative units—the assassination and disinformation units—would catch up.

Before we rested, we decided to praise the entire army, including those who had brought back the supplies we had left behind.

…There were far fewer of them than when we had left Listrea. Though their individual strength had reached a whole new level.

The sun, which had not yet fully risen, dyed the death knights who were lined up before me a soft white. I took a deep breath, cleared my throat, and opened my mouth.

“—There were casualties, but fewer than expected. I am proud of you all, for making my unreasonable request a reality.”

“It is an honor.”

“What, the enemy does not make as unreasonable requests as my master.”

“While we cannot turn our blades on my master, the enemy can simply be cut down. It is a great relief.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes, that is true.”

“That is reassuring.” I smiled, a small smile.

Ah, they were truly reassuring. A strong knightly order, which had overturned a four-to-one numerical disadvantage and had crushed the enemy, was at my disposal, and they trusted me completely.

And yet, there were still casualties. Even though they were so strong, and they trusted me—no, because they trusted me.

“As for those who have gone before us… well, let’s bring them a souvenir.”

A ripple of laughter spread. I, too, smiled. I would probably go to hell. But now, I thought that wasn’t so bad.

“To all who have been lost. …To the heroes who have gone before us. —All units, a moment of silence.”

I lowered my hood and placed a hand on my chest. I squeezed the cord of the three amulets.

Everyone, too, in their own way, took a posture of silent prayer. The blue-green will-o’-the-wisps of the skeletons and the wraiths went out, all at once. It was probably the equivalent of closing their eyes.

I, too, closed my eyes. The image of the entire army, before the sortie, appeared behind my eyelids. The image of my knightly order, now with a part of it missing.

With the sacrifice of only eighty-two, they had crushed an enemy force of over two thousand. They had seized all of their supplies. They had cut off the enemy’s reinforcements and supplies, at the same time.

It was a magnificent military achievement. A feat that only a hero could accomplish.

And yet, the fools who had adored me, who had believed in me, had gone to a distant place. And more would go.

From now on, there would probably be no time to mourn. And after it was all over, there would be few who could mourn.

And all I could do for them was probably to tell them to go and die.

So, for now. Just for now.