#082. Sodom is too kind (3)

#082. Sodom is too kind (3)

Everyone in Sodom knows.

The sacrifices Teresa and Ian made for them.

“They stand against nobles, against beastmen, even against vampires. Do they know no fear?”

“Even fearless as they are, no adventurer has ever challenged the Blood Forest like this.”

“Perhaps those from the Order are right. Unless they are a Saint and his Saintly Mother, how else could someone be so virtuous, so prone to selfless acts?”

Sodom’s rapid expansion and success are all thanks to Teresa’s achievements, but the challenges they overcame to reach this point were all possible due to Ian’s wishes.

The two always fought to protect someone, so every resident of Sodom felt indebted to them.

Not everyone gathered in the newly appointed Grand Duke’s territory was an outsider.

Many were refugees touched by their benevolence, people from nearby villages, those who escaped the Blood Forest.

Even the influx of outsiders mostly consisted of people who had directly witnessed them in the capital or at the Order, heard the rumors, and came out of curiosity.

The desperate atmosphere of those leaving their homes, simply seeking anyplace better, was absent among those heading towards Sodom.

-But my ability can save many people. If I can change the hearts of the lords who control the castles, if I can sway the beastmen.

-The cost is the unleashing of your ability!

-It’s alright. People have their own beliefs, and that will is not easily shaken. There are those who will not move unless I ask, and there are trials that only I can prevent. If it means humanity, our family, survives, then losing the chance to exchange trivial jokes, losing freedom of speech, is a small price to pay.

Imagine the shock when such people heard Ian’s recordings.

A conversation about plotting even more foolish acts, when he’s already far too kind a person to meet a wicked saintly woman and suffer some cruel fate.

What if Ian were to suddenly die?

Would Teresa continue her current virtuous rule?

The residents of Sodom could foresee that future.

“Teresa was once a deadbeat. The noble Saint Ian painstakingly restored her forgotten goodness over years, but how can she not collapse when the Saint passes on?”

“Back-alley Teresa neglected her maternal duties and blamed her child; a hopeless wretch. If she shows that attitude as a noble, the territory will be ruined in an instant.”

“If we want her to continue with good governance, we must protect Saint Ian. If we can take over the effort he would put in to the Southern Expedition, it will surely be a great help!”

The residents of Sodom would not allow Ian’s self-sacrifice.

Even if the reason was to make him a totem of virtuous rule to keep Teresa benevolent for a long time, their actions were well-intentioned.

Volunteer enlistments were endless, and the size of the Southern Expeditionary Force grew frighteningly.

“Teresa’s forces are enormous, how can our territory ignore the authority of the Grand Duke? They may use this as an excuse to condemn us later.”

“We must not give them any cause for complaint. We must send all our troops. If we spare soldiers now, they may accuse us of harboring ulterior motives and try to expel us.”

The nobles, recalling the machinations they themselves once employed, reluctantly increased their troop contributions.

This action, effectively an all-in bet, was an investment without a fallback, something rarely seen even in territory wars.

Adventurers and soldiers from all over the Westwood region gathered, numbering nearly two hundred thousand.

“Wait, how many more people have joined the units that had only 200 or 300 people yesterday?”

The frighteningly swollen army required stockpiling vast quantities of grain and securing drinking water during the march.

“These are provisions sent by Lord Hansel. Please accept them without hesitation. He said he is repaying the grace of ending seven hundred years of evil, settling an unpayable debt.”

Without even the fear of a monster wave, the vampire forces of the Blood Forest, powerful enough to breed strong monsters in their Magic Beast Breeding Grounds, opened the doors to their long-locked granaries to provide support.

Adding to this, another ally joined to solve the shortage of weapons to arm the army.

“Saintess Cecilia of the Revolutionary Order is providing armaments so you can join her in a noble holy war!”

Opening up the spoils accumulated from executing dissidents and heretics throughout the kingdom.

Improvising as we must, we furnished the soldiers with arms and armor, managing to equip them to a passable standard.

“Advance. Commence the march.”

Thus it was, that a great host of two hundred thousand strong began its advance toward the southern regions.

* * *

Rumors of the Holy Army’s advance, of two hundred thousand soldiers, spread quickly throughout the south.

Yongin Drakosarz, senior councilor of the Beastmen Revival Society.

He who, in truth, crafted the consensus of the Beastmen League and held sway over the Beastmen, scoffed at the tidings.

“Empty boasts. Sodom, having seen its eastern Six Villages destroyed and even its urban functions threatened by the Monster Wave, barely has time to repair its own foundations. Where does it intend to find the food and arms to feed and equip such a vast army? At most, it will be a dispatch of a small, elite force.”

“Indeed, Dragon Lord, your insight is keen.”

“In that case, shall we arrange for the elites of our Beastmen Revival Society to be deployed to the western front, and mobilize the reserves to crush the nobles?”

“Do so.”

Drakosarz adhered to common sense.

Overwhelm the enemy with superior numbers.

Use strong generals to defeat weak ones.

In a Beastmen’s war, there are no variables.

If one advances with straightforward tactics, upholding the basics, humans break like brittle reeds.

Their bodies, their weapons, their will to fight.

This time would be no different.

The southern nobles, already on the verge of collapse, would be wiped out before the Westwood expeditionary force even arrived.

“Urgent report! Tangent Fortress in the northwest has fallen!”

“They were swift, I grant them that. It changes nothing.”

Even when the first urgent report arrived, Drakosarz remained unperturbed.

How many could there be who could break through the gates or scale the walls, neutralizing the siege?

They are mortals; they need rest. And if they fear a rear assault, they would spend an eternity conquering every fortress and castle along their path of advance.

And if they breach the borderlands?

The situation would already be resolved.

The remaining noble remnants would be utterly eradicated, and the might of the south could be fully projected toward the northwest, and, in turn, advance into the Westwood region.

“Westwood will be taken as a colony, not a territory. Unfettered pillaging is permitted.”

With this, the Beastmen, weary of the long war, could be appeased, and morale boosted.

“Urgent report! Cosine Fortress in the northwest has fallen! Enemy casualties, twenty thousand!”

“Urgent report! Line Fortress in the northwest has fallen! Enemy casualties, thirty thousand!”

“Urgent report! Curve Citadel in the northwest has fallen! Enemy casualties, twenty-five thousand!”

“Urgent report! All four fortresses in the northwestern border region have been annihilated! The enemy’s main force is advancing into the interior!”

Then came the urgent reports from the messengers, one after another, revealing that this was a baseless delusion.

“Speak sense! Do you take the power struggle between the newly crowned Grand Duke and the opposing local lords for a joke? Do you expect that the lords just handed over a hundred thousand troops, troops that would require every soldier in the west to assemble, because they are fools?”

Impossible.

Such a thing cannot be.

Human ambition, the instinct of the human species, would not permit such a thing.

This was the common sense known by Yongin Drakosarz.

The truth spoken by a dragon’s greed.

Reasoning from a place of falsehood, Dracozar found a way to make sense of the situation.

“The scum remaining in the liaison zone must have been thoroughly looted by our ‘special forces’. What other reason could they have for relaying such preposterous news? It’s a threat that touching them might cause a split.”

“H-however, we truly saw it. A vast army of the enemy, filling the causeway as they march!”

“Or it could just be a demonstration by the soldiers stationed in the liaison zone.”

“Absolutely not!!”

“Enough. Tell them that is enough. Their demonstration succeeded, and that pillaging at Agun Fortress is strictly forbidden to the special forces. Should anyone overstep that line, deliver the edict that the instigator will be beheaded.”

The messengers felt their insides twisting.

But not even a single messenger dared to rebel against the one at the top of the Beastman Alliance.

“Rest assured. Unless those humans have joined hands with the Demon Lord and forced our subjects into absolute obedience, cramming the young into their army, a force of 200,000 is simply impossible.”

* * *

The commander of the Beastman Alliance’s special forces.

He emerged from their hideout, beaming, as the messenger sent to headquarters returned.

“Where are the reinforcements? How many troops did Dracozar send?”

“That is…”

“Haha. This one, how quickly did you come to deliver such joyous news, not even hearing the sounds of the approaching army.”

“There are no reinforcements.”

“…What?”

“And, this is the letter that he personally commanded to be delivered.”

The special forces commander’s face hardened as he tore open the letter.

He hadn’t grasped the severity of the situation at all.

Even with the border breached, they send a prohibition on pillaging and suffer threats.

The pride of a beast-type beastman had been completely trampled.

He was even ashamed that such a pathetic figure was their leader.

“Everyone, guerilla tactics are over.”

“Commander. Is that true? The humans don’t know of our ambush. Striking their supply lines is a golden opportunity to achieve great merit!”

“It is an edict from headquarters. Anyone who plunders in allied territory will be beheaded.”

“What kind of nonsense is that!”

“What do they think we are!”

The special forces commander, now devoid of any affection, spoke.

“There’s no honor in dedicating ourselves to such fools. The special forces are leaving the front.”

The special forces, who could have bought them valuable time, withdrew due to their leader’s folly.

The gap created by the difference in Theresa and Dracozar’s virtue twisted the flow of battle even more explosively.