Chapter 28

A week passed in the blink of an eye.

From one to three in the afternoon, I would take Alter’s lessons with Lir, and then collapse. After resting and waking up, I would review again, only to collapse once more. Each day sped by in this rhythm.

“A letter from Company Commander Bellua, sir.”

Around the end of the afternoon meal, a young Hein handed me a tightly sealed letter. I carefully broke the seal, and began to read the letter with utmost caution.

[Regrettably, a large-scale mutant unit and several demonic entities have been identified in the wetlands 20 kilometers from the forest zone. Within the forest zone itself, numerous traps, such as mana-infused landmines, have also been discovered.]

It was exactly as I had suspected.

The demons, not missing a loophole in the contract, were preparing a surprise attack, and Bellua’s ominous premonition had come to a striking and accurate fulfillment.

“…Tch.”

As their notorious reputation suggested, the demons were vile and cunning beings, and we never expected them to leave a loophole in the contract.

Already anticipating the situation, I grasped a quill and penned a brief missive.

[I will handle it. Prepare Operation ‘White Anvil’.]

The mistake I made is one I must make amends for.

That night, I retired to bed earlier than usual.

Tomorrow promises to be a very busy day.

* * *

The sun, a hazy ember, peeked over the horizon. Four hours before my usual rising, I gathered my robes, hat, and grimoire, and stepped out of my room.

Alter and Lir, unusually early, waited to greet me. Unlike our expedition to the Enkel Highlands, they were fully arrayed in combat accessories, staves, and robes.

Beyond the castle gates, no opulent royal carriage awaited, but a military wagon and a sizable contingent.

Rows and columns of dwarven soldiers, clad in sturdy, well-maintained armor, interspersed with the forms of humans, orcs, and elves, filled my vision. I inhaled the dawn air deeply.

“Today, we go to reclaim what was lost to us.”

Tension etched itself onto the faces of the soldiers. They understood. We weren’t just heading to construct an outpost.

We were preparing to ambush a lurking demon force.

There would be fighting. There would be wounded. There would be dead.

Wounded and dead that might have been avoided, had I been more careful.

‘…Ah, damn it.’

Again, that damned stench of corpse carts brushed past my nostrils.

“This expedition today could have been a much simpler matter. But, due to my blunder, an unforeseen variable has arisen.”

I wasn’t skilled at knowing the right words to bolster the morale of soldiers as their commander.

Until a month ago, I was just a middle-school dropout, fiddling with sheet music and MIDI in my room. What could I possibly know about the minds of soldiers facing battle?

“The battle that is about to unfold, truthfully, might not have happened if I had just exercised a little more caution. But I made a mistake.”

And so, I decided to simply share what was on my mind.

“I will offer a proper apology for this foolish error after everything is concluded.”

Having resolved to fight, sacrifice was inevitable. My mind grasped the fact…

“It’ll be quite a sight, you know. A General bowing to common soldiers.”

My heart wishes for each and every one of them to return to their families unharmed.

The air in the graveyard I visited before was so heavy, it felt like my fragile shoulders would crumble.

I hope I never have to go to a place like that again.

Even knowing it’s impossible, I made that wish in my heart.

“So please… until I bow my head, let no one die.”

A faint smile touched the soldiers’ lips.

Had some of the tension eased, even a little?

If so, that’s a relief, but perhaps it was just pity for the young whelp trying so desperately to alleviate their anxiety.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

They were smiling, and the faint tension that had been clinging to the ranks had vanished.

For a fledgling commander, wouldn’t you say I’ve done well enough?

“We shall depart.”

“Everyone! Mount your steeds!”

No sooner had I finished speaking than Bellua shouted at the top of her lungs. As the dwarves, with their characteristic booming voices, bravely roared and mounted their horses, Lir and Alter plugged their ears with their fingers as if the sound was a nuisance and climbed into the carriage.

“General.”

Amidst the members hurriedly mounting their horses, a familiar voice cut through the clamor of the crowd and reached my ears.

“…Squad Leader Rex.”

An Orc squad leader, one arm replaced with machinery, a massive axe strapped to his back. Rex had come close unnoticed and quietly offered a salute.

Amongst the members preparing to leave, I too quietly returned his salute.

The prosthetic in place of his severed right arm bore the number 6, emblazoned in ochre paint.

As I lowered my hand, he, as if waiting, snapped the arm back into place with a precise, knife-like motion. Barely a month since its attachment, yet he wielded the prosthetic with such ease, such dominion, as if it were his own flesh and bone. It was a marvel to behold.

“The General has carved a fissure into the Achilliptus Woods, a terrain where a reclamation operation would have been unthinkable. A truly massive fissure, at that. It is more than enough.”

In Rex’s blood-red eyes swirled a complex emotion, difficult to name.

It resembled the pity one might feel for a prodigy burdened with responsibility at too tender an age, and yet, it also mirrored the reprimand due a fool who believes himself, a mere mortal, capable of controlling all.

“None of us are perfect. Even the great Sword Saint errs, so how could we be any different?”

Rex gently stroked the horn of the Komodo beside him as he continued.

“Thus, there is no need for apologies when all is concluded. Warriors are those who pledge to die for the sake of the innocent’s tomorrow. None among us would dare complain that we were not granted a ‘perfect situation’.”

“It seems Rex does not approve of my pledge.”

“For a superior to bow to his subordinates… such a thing is unheard of among us Orcs. Though you are not an Orc, General, and I understand there are cultural differences that should be respected….”

Orcs were warriors, forged with an unwavering military spirit and a rigid hierarchy. Rex, an elite soldier reared within that culture, seemed uneasy with the General’s promise to bow to his soldiers.

“All who live on this continent progress by supplementing each other’s shortcomings. There is no need to apologize for minor missteps when remarkable feats have already been achieved. Does not even the great Sword Saint rely on a party to compensate for his deficiencies?”

“…I understand your meaning.”

“An intrusion, I apologize.”

Having said his piece, Rex bowed his head in apology.

The Rex I had not seen in so long was still a warrior of unwavering pride, and a person who knew to care for others.

“It’s nothing.”

I answered with a reassuring smile. Hearing my reply, he nodded once before turning and heaving his considerable frame onto the Komodo.

I watched until Rex was fully mounted, offered a brief salute, then climbed into the carriage where the mages awaited.

Soon, the sound of hooves and the creak of wheels filled the air.

Inside the carriage, besides myself, Lier, and Alter, were four other mages belonging to this unit.

Mid-level mages of the 4th or 5th Circle, veterans with considerable combat experience.

“…Huu.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

The tense shoulder muscles, knotted up since who knows when, slowly began to loosen, and the pressure in my heart, which had settled there unnoticed, also faded.

The leisure to look up at the sky returned.

The weather was far too fair for a thunderstorm today.

Admiring the clear sky, I inhaled deeply.

The air of the medieval era was much fresher and more pleasant than I had imagined.

* * *

A small swamp, barely 10 kilometers from the Achilliptus Forest.

Overgrown with thickets, and dotted with numerous small caves, this swamp teemed with mutated creatures, their entire bodies filled with deadly poison.

“…Humans have entered the forest.”

A demon, eyes tightly shut, spoke in a monotonous tone.

The demon could observe a contingent of dwarven infantry, clad in silver-colored heavy armor, cautiously making their way into the tree-choked forest, alert to their surroundings.

This was thanks to the mutated creatures secretly planted around the forest, their vision linked to his own.

“They appear to be a reconnaissance unit, the main force will soon reveal itself.”

“Considering the distance from the forest to this place… it would be more efficient to move the mutated creatures now. If we move them quickly, we can attack before they establish a proper base.”

“Agreed.”

Deep within the swamp’s caves, gloomy and chilling voices exchanged words. In response to their voices, the ground began to tremble, and monsters brimming with lethal venom began to shift their steps toward the Achilliptus Forest.

Adorned in moss and leaves, they were chimeras, grotesque blends of rabbit and tree, or abominations cobbled from orc and elf.

Each monster secreted toxins from every pore, their mere passage corrupting the air, poisoning the very ground beneath.

And so, the ten demons concealed within the cave unleashed their entire brood of twisted creatures upon the Achilliptus Forest. The fallout was immediate: ancient trees that had formed the swamp buckled, the earth itself crumbled.

In the deepest reaches of the cave, an unnerving quiet descended. The demons, eyes shut tight, focused all their will on controlling the abominations.

“This isn’t some backwater cult ritual site, is it…”

A voice dripped with disdain, a sound that was both delicate and icy, cutting through the stillness of the dark, humid, and oppressively grim scene.

“…?”

The demons snapped their eyes open, turning as one towards the voice.

There, cloaked head-to-toe in a jet-black robe, stood a white-haired boy, a crimson lantern held aloft in his hand.

“How…?”

Not a single demon present was ignorant of the boy’s identity.

The young genius mage who survived a battle with the Grand Overlord, the audacious strategist who had shaken down a High Lord.

The sudden entrance of such a monumental figure paralyzed the demons’ thoughts.

“…”

Their primary weapon, the chimeras, were now all committed to the Achilliptus Forest.

Even if they ordered an immediate recall, it would take at least ten minutes for them to return here.

Could they survive ten minutes?

Ten common demons… against the monstrous mage who had stood his ground against the Grand Overlord?

No… could they even win, fighting with their chimeras at full strength?

“……”

No matter the strategy he conceived, it seemed only to yield one inevitable outcome: ‘death.’

“……How can you even be here?”

From the depths of despair, one of the demons threw out the meaningless question.

“My scouts, it seems, are proving more efficient than anticipated. All thanks to my capable underlings, you see.”

The boy carefully placed a lantern on the damp cave floor as he replied.

“And now, it is my turn to repay that assistance.”

*Fsssk…!*

Faint electricity crackled through the boy’s snow-white hair.

The light, illuminating the pitch-black cavern, disoriented the demons’ eyes, so accustomed to the darkness.

*’Ten of them, just as the scouts reported… A perfectly adequate number to test my current level.’*

For nearly a month, the boy had tirelessly studied and practiced magic under the tutelage of an 8th-circle mage, without missing a single day.

He had certainly become a mage far stronger than the moment he first stumbled into this world.

However, he himself could not accurately gauge the extent of his growth.

Due to the [Bloom] spell’s nature—releasing all stored mana at once—it was impossible to ascertain his strength through sparring.

He couldn’t risk squandering carefully accumulated mana on something like a practice duel, only to find himself unable to fight when a genuine emergency arose.

*’In the game, a ‘one-shot mage’ needed to be at least level 20 to take on ten common demons simultaneously.’*

So, the demons before him now…

Were nothing more than a kind of punching bag, to test the limits of the ‘power’ he possessed.

“Bloom.”

* * *Crack!*

The lantern’s glass shattered, struck by the electricity erupting from the boy. The oil trapped inside floated atop the water pooling on the cave floor. Tendrils of current, leaking from the boy’s body, used the broken shards of glass as stepping stones, reaching out. The scattered oil ignited.

The next instant.

The colossal surge of electricity bursting from the boy’s body pulverized the cave ceiling, finally touching the clouds above.