Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 55

The Wind Blade, a wind attribute magic unleashed from the blade, sprouted blood like blooming flowers among the monsters rushing below. Unlike the dungeon-specialist “Moles,” who prioritize combat and collection, Al, an adventurer, had raised his rank through subjugation and escort missions. He had faced a number that could easily reach a hundred in battles with monsters. But in front of this number, how many could remain unflinching?

Al had already fired dozens of wind magic spells. His love interest, Amy, continued to shoot monsters with her “Strong Bow.” Fleck, who lacked his own long-range attack means, was diligently throwing stones.

The earth and sand from the construction of the dry moat were accumulated on the castle rampart. The magic soldiers, who possessed earth attribute magic, compacted the earth. The refined Earth Bullets had a hardness comparable to stone. Combined with Fleck’s strength, which allowed him to freely maneuver a large shield, it was sufficient to shatter the skulls of orcs.

There was an effect. There must have been. Yet, the monsters did not falter. It was like throwing pebbles into the ocean.

Inside the castle, the villagers from Al’s home had taken refuge. Even if it meant breaking himself to pieces, he couldn’t let the castle walls be breached. That’s when he remembered his former party members.

The Four Nation Alliance was implementing a resistance operation against the Highserk Empire. Initially just a rumor, but they began gathering adventurers at an extravagant price.

The details of the operation were kept secret until the last minute, and with such a hefty reward, the more he thought about it, the more suspicious and dangerous it seemed.

Amy and Fleck had not fully healed from their injuries, and Al was no exception. The Duchy of Mayard had also suffered a crushing defeat in the capital Aidenberg, losing territories except for the Selta region.

Following the Duchy’s defeat, Al was engulfed in a sense of loss and helplessness, and the unhealed wounds of his members were the final straw that made him reluctant to accept the mission.

Perhaps his attention had been scattered. Al didn’t notice that two of his members had left their hideout. Considering the timing, they must have accepted the request. Leetia had shown interest in the request from the Four Nation Alliance.

Al had faintly realized that a dark emotion had taken root in Leetia’s eyes since their party members were gravely injured and Mayard soldiers were killed.

He had cared for them. Lefty was with them too, and he had convinced himself that they wouldn’t do anything reckless. Realizing his mistake, Al wished for their safety, but what followed was the great rampage.

The cause was unknown, and no reliable information came in, but considering the timing, it was certain that the Four Nation Alliance had orchestrated something using adventurers.

Al wanted to be concerned about the safety of the two, but with the escalating rampage before him, he had no thought to spare.

His magical power was at its limit, and facing the increasingly ferocious monsters, Al felt like collapsing. Who could stop such a force?

Al doubted his eyes at the bizarre scene. Someone was on the edge of the castle rampart.

“What are you doing?!”

A Highserk soldier had thrown himself off the castle rampart. Whether he had gone mad or been pushed was unclear, but the monsters below were eager to welcome the human they had been awaiting.

During the battle until now, Al had seen soldiers who fell from the rampart thoroughly minced.

Al, with his wind magic, might’ve been able to climb up the castle rampart, but it was one in a million shot to scatter the monsters, rescue the soldier, and return to the rampart.

Al decided not to avert his eyes and witness the end. His clouded eyes, seen through the mask, intersected with Al’s gaze. A chill ran down his spine, and his hair stood on end.

Those clouded eyes belonged to someone who had once sent chills down Al’s spine.

Visible magical power flowed from the body of the soldier thrown into the void, bearing unbearable heat and gales.

“Oh, it’s the ‘Hellfire Beacon’!”

“The Guardian Chief Walm wants to invite them to hell!”

Al had heard the rumors. The Highserk’s demon fire user who burned the Felius royal guards to ashes in the battle of Aidenberg and, during the Sarajevo Fortress Siege, single-handedly devastated the enemy’s command structure and encampment, capturing one of the Three Heroes of Crest.

The monsters that had been reaching for him screamed in unison and scrambled to distance themselves. What had been a brutal stampede by the monsters turned into chaos as they desperately fled from the blue flames.

“That’s…”

Even through the magical barrier, he felt the heat, drying his lips and eyes. Al swallowed, knowing what would happen to a human with little magical power if they were close by.

If he were an ally, nothing could be more reliable. But for those who opposed him, the hellfire awaited.

Remembering their interaction at the city gate, Al gently touched his still swollen cheek. He was lucky it had ended with just that. After all, if Walm had intended, he had the power to annihilate Al and the villagers.

At the same time, Al was profoundly grateful that Walm had not awakened to the “Demon Fire” when they had fought to the death before. If he had, there would have been no chance of forgiveness. All that would remain would be a group of charred corpses.

The demon fire continued to burn the monsters. Al and the soldiers on the nearby castle rampart were captivated by the blue flames, as if they were possessed.

◆

Three days after the great rampage reached Dandurg Castle, a shadow began to fall over the Highserk Empire’s army, which had been successfully exterminating the monsters until then.

Except for the intrusion of monsters capable of flight or exceptional jumping, the castle gates and walls remained unbreached, and no upper-tier A-class monsters like the feared rampaging dragons had been sighted.

Even so, the fatigue of the Highserk soldiers, who continued to fight in shifts, was reaching its peak. The number of monsters swarming from outside the castle day and night showed no sign of decreasing, despite having already slain over 30,000 of them.

Walm consumed his magical powers to activate Demon Fire, and three hours of resting were about to pass. In another hour or two, he would have to use demon fire against the monsters again.

The soldiers crammed into the barracks for rest were sleeping like the dead. Walm himself had just recently fallen asleep, his ears covered with his cloak. The stench of decaying monsters beginning to rot around the castle was drifting inside. The room likely reeked of sweat, blood, and accumulated grime, but their sense of smell was already numbed.

Fortunately, there was a partial solution for the corpses outside. The dead monsters were being devoured by the living ones as a substitute for rations.

Turning over in his sleep and finally finding a comfortable position, Walm began to snore lightly when a soldier stopped in front of him.

Walm checked with half-open eyes. Surely, no one in Dandurg Castle would be reckless enough to wake a soldier for mere chitchat or a meal invitation during their scant sleep.

“I apologize for disturbing you during your rest. It’s an emergency message; the brigade commander is calling for Guardian Chief.”

It was a messenger from the headquarters. The fact that he was whispering suggested it was an important matter, which Walm discerned despite his dulled mind.

“Understood. I will report immediately.”

After making minimal preparations, Walm followed the messenger into a room at the headquarters.

“I apologize for my tardiness.”

“Guardian Chief Walm, you’ve arrived.”

Brigade Commander Sigismund welcomed Walm.

“How’s the front line?”

Walm reported the situation without concealment.

“We are succeeding in repelling the monsters that press us day and night, but the soldiers’ fatigue is reaching its peak. We are also running low on arrows and throwing weapons, currently relying heavily on the magical fire power of the mages.”

The attacks of fire and wind attribute mages, superior in firepower, were central to stopping the onslaught of monsters. Mages wielding earth and water attributes were not far behind in terms of overuse.

The earth attribute mages, capable of hardening the soil, were busy producing Earth Bullets supporting the dwindling supply of throwable weapons.

As for the water attribute magic, besides offensive spells, they were indispensable in providing drinking water within the castle.

“How long do you think we can hold out?”

The number of monsters was only increasing, the fatigue of the soldiers was accumulating, and their tactics were becoming more cunning. Though there was a significant effort to recruit volunteers, the situation was grim.

“…We can maintain the current situation for another two or three days at most. They’re getting smarter, digging through the ground and even preparing logs like battering rams to scale the walls.”

Walm, bracing for criticism, was pessimistically realistic, but his assessment was received positively.

“Good assessment. In two or three days, close combat will begin, and the exhaustion will skyrocket.”

“We are still maintaining the rear communication lines to the homeland. While we have a slight surplus of strength, we plan to abandon Dandurg Castle and stop them at the former Kingdom of Canoa. The destination has been decided, and we’re already secretly preparing to retreat the troops.”

Walm, unable to shake off a bad premonition, continued his cautious questioning.

“Secretly… to avoid chaos, I presume?”

“Yes, to avoid chaos. We will begin a coordinated retreat early in the morning the day after tomorrow. We’re increasing the proportion of volunteers and prisoners in the wall passages.”

Walm had anticipated a retreat sooner or later but had believed it would be done in stages. To hear that it was happening in a coordinated fashion the day after tomorrow was unexpected.

“The day after tomorrow for the retreat? What about the civilians of Mayard crammed inside the castle—”

“Regrettably, those who can’t move in time will have to hole up in the fort and wait for the rampage to pass.”

“Pass through? Excuse me, but isn’t it more accurate to say being swallowed up? Only a limited number can escape through the restricted castle gates. Even Highserk soldiers are being left behind.”

The number of entry and exit points was limited already, and the castle was overwhelmed with an excessive number of refugees. It was impossible for an orderly retreat to occur.

Walm’s opinion remained unspoken to the end.

“Objections and dissatisfaction are not yours alone. But do you think we can defend properly? With such depletion in such a short period, we cannot hold out even if we fight to the last man.”

What the gray-haired brigade commander intended to say was understandable from a military standpoint. Essentially, the strategy was to dangle an attractive bait, lure the enemy, whittle down their forces, and then use expendable pieces to buy time.

What Walm found hard to accept was that the bait was the majority of the Mayard people, and their rescue had not been planned from the beginning. Only those who could follow would be considered. That was the extent of the concern.

“Guardian Chief, I have heard from Lord Gerald that you are a soldier loyal to your orders. This is an order.”

It was a malicious salvation. A characteristic of the great rampage was its nature to crash into densely populated areas, and if the battle-hardened Highserk soldiers amassed a large force at Dandurg Castle, the Mayard people would gather seeking protection.

Then, they would draw the monsters into this solid stronghold filled with refugees and kill them. It was not hard to imagine what would happen if they tried to retreat all at once without guidance, with so many people overflowing inside the castle.

In Walm’s mind appeared the image of an old general, known as the Military God, with a seemingly kind smile. An old man who, if it meant saving even one more of his countrymen, would throw people from other countries into a boiling hellish cauldron with a ruthless and patriotic heart.

“Of course, this is to be kept confidential. As a loyal Guardian Chief, there should be no need to worry, but just in case.”

The brigadier smiled, but his eyes were dark and unsmiling deep within. He was indeed a peer of Lord Military God.

It would be easy to hurl insults and call him an inhuman fiend. In the eyes of the brigade commander, one could see unwavering conviction and determination. He was literally prepared to offer up people from other countries as sacrifices to achieve the defense of his homeland.

Whatever Walm said, nothing would change. It couldn’t be changed.

“Guardian Chief, you will be tasked with maintaining the communication lines. If all goes well, we might be able to save ‘some’ of the Mayard people.”

Perceiving his hesitation, the brigadier whispered as if to persuade him. There was no refusing. Walm was a soldier of the Highserk Empire, nothing more.

Would he lead his motherland to ruin out of concern for the people of another country—What does he wish for now with his “clouded eyes”? Walm clenched his teeth so hard they creaked and replied.

“Understood, I will comply.”