Chapter 193. The Battlefield of the Gods (2)
……Hmm?
I blinked.
I feel like I just saw something strange.
I unconsciously looked around.
Nothing in particular has changed.
The enemy has not emerged from the ominous fog on the horizon, and the artillery and the Magic Tower corps are waiting with their lines of fire maintained.
“……”
It's the same even when I turn my consciousness.
Nothing has changed.
Not for me, who is in charge of the first defense line of the triple wall.
Not for the emperor's clone, who has finished his speech at the command post on the spire of the third defense line.
Not for Tribus' clone, who is hiding in the southern forest.
‘…Was I seeing things?’
No.
My intuition is telling me.
When I concentrate, a certain scene seems to flicker with a headache.
A feeling of having confronted something in the dim light of a pitch-black darkness.
But I can't remember.
A corner of my mind is painted over with a hazy blur, as if covered by a dark cloud.
Like when you wake up after drinking too much, and the scenes from the previous day are faint, as if you can almost remember them but can't.
“My Lord?”
“...Huh?”
“A-are you alright?”
I turned my head.
There is a face staring blankly at me.
A muscular man with a bushy bandit's beard.
It's Brol.
“Is something wrong?”
“...No. It's nothing.”
“Hoho, even the great Count gets nervous! I don't know what you're so worried about, but forget it all for now. This is a word of advice from a senior. My battlefield experience is a bit more than yours, isn't it?”
Brol said with a chuckle.
I found it absurd and laughed back.
But he burst into an even bigger smile.
It seems he's trying to ease my tension in his own way.
“And His Majesty the Emperor just gave a kick-ass speech, didn't he? That we'll all live and drink our fill of booze! Ah, I might die while drinking, though. Then that's a good death. Uhaha!”
“Brol! Are you talking nonsense again?”
[[Warrior's Insight] is deployed.]
[You have acquired a skill.]
[Aid of the Skywind (Level 8)]
As the notification window popped up before my eyes, Karen poked her head out.
Brol, startled, took a step back.
“Oh my, what a surprise, Miss Karen. When did you get here?”
“Just now?”
“This tower is over 20 meters high. How did you get here without taking the stairs?”
“I just flew.”
“Ah, you're an elf royalty, Miss.”
Karen smiled shyly.
The bright eye-smile she had shown since our mercenary days.
However, unlike before, a clear will stands behind that gaze.
‘Is it because of the contract with the spirit? If it's the Skywind, it must be a top-class wind spirit.’
I shook my head.
It's not a gaze one can have just by gaining power.
Yes.
It must be because of responsibility.
It's probably because the powerless royalty, who only ran away from pursuers, has now become the queen of a proper kingdom.
I patted Brol's shoulder and corrected him.
“Not royalty, but queen, Brol.”
“Ah, right. The Count is right. She's the queen.”
“...Ahaha.”
For some, responsibility becomes a shackle.
Conversely, for others, responsibility becomes a driving force in life.
The power to get up again and move forward even if you make a mistake or fall.
It was the same in the previous world.
Society revolved around responsibility towards family, friends, the company, and sometimes the country and humanity.
The Elven kingdom, which almost disappeared with the fall of their paradise, has established itself in the black forest, the former home of the Beastmen, and is rapidly growing in power.
Gathering and embracing her scattered people as the Elven queen must have helped her more than anyone else.
Of course, I also benefited greatly from it.
Right now, in Wolfskrig, a staggering seven thousand elite elven troops have arrived and are ready to draw their bows.
“Anyway, I just came to see you before the battle really starts. Brol says he'll die while chugging beer, but we'll have some fancy wine in moderation….”
Karen, who had started teasing Brol as usual, looked at me and her eyes widened.
“?”
“Huh?”
“……?”
What is it.
Is there something on my face?
She furrowed her brow meaningfully, covered her mouth with her hand, and muttered something to herself.
“……Really?……There's another one?…Over there?”
“Wh-what's wrong, Miss Karen. Have you finally gone mad?”
Brol, his face pale, takes another step back.
But I, who has learned spirit magic, can see.
She is talking to the spirits.
Among them, the wind spirit in human form, 'Skywind,' was standing next to her, whispering together and pointing alternately at me and the command post where the emperor was in the distance.
“……”
I didn't think of this.
It seems they sensed something strange because the emperor's clone and I suddenly entered into a contract.
By the way, even if they are spirits, shouldn't there be a confidentiality clause in the contract?
Is it because it's a shoddy contract that there isn't one?
As all sorts of random thoughts were swirling in my head, Karen finished her scheming with the spirits and cleared her throat.
“Your Majest… ah, uhm! No, th-that. My Lord.”
“...Yes.”
Well, whatever.
I'm the one who hid it.
Anyway, Karen is not the type to go around talking about it.
The only person she might tell is Alina, and she seemed to have a rough idea from the beginning.
Thump- thump-
Just then, the sound of a drum interrupted our conversation.
It's not the heavy drumbeat of the Empire, but the thinner, faster-paced drumbeat of the Eastern Empire.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-
“They're coming.”
Finally, they revealed themselves.
Starting with archers holding greatbows, enemy soldiers in scale armor began to advance through the fog.
From our side, the sound of a horn echoes.
The rumble of the war drum tickles the soles of my boots.
The vanguard of the enemy army, which had been walking slowly, began to run at a jog, then at a trot, and finally at a full sprint.
The 'shock troops.'
Madmen who, in light armor with a few swords tied to their bodies, break the enemy's morale with what is essentially a suicide charge.
Whether it's the effect of drugs or sorcery, their speed gets faster and faster from a full sprint.
The distance narrows in an instant.
12 km.
The range of the improved mortar.
“Fire!”
Kwa-gwagwagwang! Tu-gwagwagwa-!!
The super-large cannons guarding the dwarven holds all spew fire in unison.
A ringing sound fills my ears.
A parabola drawn high in the sky turns its trajectory towards the enemy formation.
And.
Kururururung……!
Sparks and dust scatter from hundreds of impact points, and only after a long time did a thunderous roar and shockwave lightly brush my face.
“Oh my……”
Brol muttered.
Beyond the dust, the eastern plain, its terrain itself changed, is visible.
The vanguard of the shock troops, who had been charging on drugs, can barely be found, only their shattered remains.
With the cheers of our army, the dwarven artillery corps fired a second volley.
However, this time, the enemy also reacted.
From the rear of the Eastern Empire's formation, a column of eerie light stretched out.
- ■■■■■■
An alien rumble.
Soldiers falling, covering their ears.
A collapsing escort knight.
Brol and Olif, who barely held on.
“Uh, uh, uh….”
“Brol! Brol! Look at me!”
While Olif slaps Brol's cheek and helps him up.
The dark clouds about 10 km from the city split open.
Something falls from the opened sky.
A lump.
A giant one.
- ■■■■■■■■
“Th-th-that's…!”
“Brol, get up! Get the other knights up!”
“Uh, ah, alright!”
It was a lump of flesh.
A lump like an unfinished meatball, where internal organs, muscles, blood vessels, nerves, bones, and skin were mixed together without any order.
Its size is that of a small fortress.
It stretched out its squishy flesh like a membrane and blocked all the incoming mortar shells.
Kururung….
It was a direct hit.
But it only tore off some of its flesh and there was no damage.
It roared once more, then dug up the ground and swallowed its own torn-off flesh and the corpses of the dead shock troops.
After greedily devouring the pieces of meat, it began to approach the fortress.
I drew my sword and shouted.
“All troops! Get a grip! They've summoned a demon! Execute it as planned!”
[[Lord's Unyielding Mind] is deployed.]
[[Commander's Roar] is deployed.]
It's just the beginning.
***
It is not strange that my real self is not aware of this place.
Because it is not my physical body that exists in reality that has been invited to this cosmic-scale room called the God of War's war room.
It is my mind, or perhaps my soul, that is floating like dust above the table depicting the entire continent and the world.
The proof of that is my appearance.
My appearance is not that of Ash, nor the Emperor, nor Tribus.
Because these hands, pale from not having seen much sunlight, have neither the calluses from holding a sword or shield for a long time, nor the pale veins that have risen as a side effect of necromancy.
<By the way, it's strange. Where are you from? Your body is human, your birth is in the Empire, your hair color looks like a bloodline from the new continent, so I found it strange, but your soul looks like the people of the East I ruled in my lifetime.>
The God of War asked.
I turned to look at him.
He was sitting in the chair in front of the table, looking at me with serious eyes.
Like a Go player who wants to have a short chat to get to know his opponent before a big match.
<My apologies. I have a lot of questions. Please understand, since you are the first challenger to appear in four thousand years. You look so much like someone from my hometown. Are you perhaps from Hushan Castle?>
He asked again.
I let out a hollow laugh.
A trick.
A trick to delude my mind.
That those who look directly at a god will die is a setting that boasts a long tradition, regardless of myth or religion.
I really almost went mad and died.
I don't know if it was his divinity, a curse, a trait, or the infusion of knowledge that surpassed human limits.
Perhaps it's just because the ridiculously large God of War has a humanoid body.
Because the size of the God of War is large enough to comfortably cover the entire Empire with the palm of his hand.
[[Lord's Unyielding Mind] is deployed.]
Well, whatever the reason, it doesn't matter.
The important thing is that I can now face his true form without my mind breaking.
Now I can see clearly.
The sight of living malice writhing in those giant eyes, which hold a rather serious gaze, like a swarm of millions of vipers.
<Hmm. A barrage of questions on our first meeting might be burdensome. Think slowly.>
“……”
I didn't answer and looked down at the table.
In the middle of the map depicting the entire world.
A statue was floating.
A statue that was unimaginably large from my perspective, but about the size of a palm to the master of this room.
It had the appearance of a formless lump of meat, like a slime.
A Sacred Relic.
No, to be precise, an Outer God.
<Ah, you've noticed?>
He smiled.
That's right.
While he was distracting me with small talk, the match had already begun.
In Go or chess, breaking one's concentration with small talk during a match would be bad manners, but there are no such rules here.
My opponent also smiled and added.
<Kukl, my apologies. But there is no practice in war.>
“It doesn't matter.”
I focus my consciousness.
Over the past three months, the thing I've invested the most personal time in is not establishing doctrines, producing new weapons, or training in magic or swordsmanship.
Those are all important, but they are things that others can do as well.
Because so many talented people have gathered in one place from all over the Empire and its allies.
I looked for something only I could do.
How to use the power of the Warrior.
I focused on that one thing.
The result is, as you can see.
[[The Warrior's Command] is deployed.]
<…Heh. In just those few months?>
His expression.
Crumpled for the first time.