#083. The Brainwashed Legion is Too Kind (1)

#083. The Brainwashed Legion is Too Kind (1)

Due to the fatal misjudgment of Dracozar, the one at the top of the Beastman Alliance, the Westwood front army advanced at a terrifying pace, liberating the castles seized by the beastmen.

Even Dracozar, who had not grasped the severity of the situation, only sensed something was amiss after his loyal servants and retainers, not messengers, had abandoned the castles entrusted to them and fled.

“The messengers’ reports were correct. A tremendous, a truly tremendous number of troops are approaching!”

“For Ian and Theresa, that’s their slogan. The Grand Duke Theresa and her child have finally stirred things up!”

“The existence of elite soldiers, equipped with unified uniforms and weapons, has also been confirmed. It must be assumed that all the lords of the Westwood region have mobilized their forces.”

The back of his head grew numb.

“Inconceivable. Not in such a manner do the desires of humans turn. How could so many soldiers’ hearts align in a gamble with such meager odds!”

Unacceptable.

Impossible to reconcile.

Yet, from the mouths of his trusted vassals, the same pronouncements echoed.

A tribal chieftain, who cherished his wife and children, had abandoned his family and ridden forth.

A fellow known for cultivating his refined appearance had arrived, his hair disheveled, his body ravaged, with no thought given to his condition.

His conviction in the rightness of his own judgment began to crumble.

“Even now, we must order a retreat. If we tarry longer, all our lines of retreat will be severed!”

“…We retreat, then. But only after I grant that vaunted army of 200,000 a proper introduction.”

Dracozaar had missed the chance to crush the noble faction in one fell swoop, the opportunity to slay enemies he could have destroyed with merely one more day of encirclement.

With a single day’s difference, he stood to lose all the fortresses in the inland territories of the south.

“It becomes almost…admirable.”

All that had been said was true.

The enemy was indeed a force of 200,000 strong.

And their talent! He unleashed birds charmed with observation magic, only for a centaur wielding a bow to pierce a bird’s head clean through.

A valued observation mage was crippled, collapsing in a froth of blood.

“What are your orders?”

“First, we must allocate troops to secure our occupied territories. Otherwise, we will lose all our fortresses to internal rebellion. If a liberation army has arrived, resistance within will only intensify.”

This would put them at a disadvantage in numbers.

Even the Suin Alliance’s vast size could not rival an army of 200,000.

“Still, a racial difference exists between humans and Suin. The skill of our soldiers is superior.”

“Does an enemy who can cripple an observation mage with a single arrow strike you as laughable? When humans are driven to madness, they become fanatics. A cult accompanies these ones. They are likely already mad.”

“You wish to employ subterfuge before engaging in direct combat, then?”

“Indeed. We must shatter their fanaticism first. Send a swift courier. Propose that the leaders of both armies meet for a parley before war. And that the conversation be shown to all under their command. If they truly are fanatics who believe in their cause, they will agree. If they decline, the enemy’s morale will crumble.”

The dragon understood fanaticism as well as he understood human greed.

The desire of weak humans to believe in something greater than themselves, to rely upon it completely, was a form of fanaticism born of the same greed that made them strive beyond their station.

Teresa readily agreed to the leaders’ meeting.

“Members of the Suin Affiliation, are they?”

“Teresa Clan, and the Saintess of the Revolutionary Order. Ha. She even brought a child to the battlefield. To think they called her the paragon of motherhood. Mother Teresa.”

“Your petty provocations are of no consequence. It grows tiresome fending off you rat-like Suin assassins. Today, I will sever the roots of this protracted enmity.”

She is strong.

A presence befitting a great general, and an aura of dominance that had grown naturally from defeating many strong adversaries.

A proper warrior, unlike the high-ranking figureheads and commanders sent by the noble resistance and royal army.

A mere adventurer would not usually be capable of commanding an army, yet she had inspired the unquestioning devotion of her followers.

He granted her retainers their loyalty.

But could the soldiers’ fanaticism be just as?

“The vampires who fled the Crimson Forest once looked down upon the Suin Alliance. But now, they are nothing more than a weak race begging for assistance. They provided information in exchange for our aid.”

“…!”

“Perhaps you suspect something, then? Indeed. The vampire who observed you from the shadows of Lord’s Keep spoke thus: ‘Ian, son of High Lord Theresa, is a mind-bender, a practitioner of the dark art of ‘Brainwash’ – a power that twists the hearts of men.'”

A secret revealed, by any means, will be delivered to the world.

There is no secret that can be buried in the dark forever.

“When you cried for justice before all, the truth has come to light! Behind, you used the wicked power of brainwash to deceive everyone, forcibly sending them to their deaths!”

A flash of surprise flickered across Theresa’s face.

It slowly warped into disbelief and mockery.

“Is this the trump card you so haughtily prepared? I hadn’t imagined that Ronove would have a beastkin half-brother like you.”

“Do you hide behind laughter because your sins are revealed? You murdered your husband and offered his corpse to the new Vampire Lord of the Blood Forest! A kinslayer, you are!”

“…That does sting a little?”

Dracozar, a mind of pure cunning, bellowed towards the live broadcast, visible to Theresa’s legions.

“Belief! It’s expressed with heartfelt sincerity! You have distorted and betrayed that sincerity. And that truth, today, will be revealed to all through ＜Brainwash Release＞!”

The dragon Dracozar’s knowledge of magic.

The magical amplifier, born from the Beastkin Restoration Society’s immense wealth.

The two combined to unleash a miracle, lifting the brainwashing that had ensnared the entire army.

Fanaticism created through brainwashing.

He would tear down the tower of false belief.

“Awaken! To your true desires! To the reality where you were forced onto the battlefield, forced to sacrifice! This is the genuine heart you’ve been denied!!”

[Brainwash Release]

[Designated Target – 200,000 Strong Army]

The brainwashing that bound them all was lifted, revealing its true nature.

A murmur rippled through the ranks of the army, growing louder.

The chaos was already spiraling out of control.

The battle was decided.

Dracozar’s wisdom, Theresa’s foolishness, and Ian’s arrogance had combined to create this moment.

“Anthony. Send the broadcast relays.”

“Yes, Chairman Dracozar.”

The voices of those freed from brainwashing would fuel their confusion, boosting the allies’ morale while shattering the enemy’s.

An army that had lost its reason to fight would not stand, and Theresa and Ian would die here today.

It was a flawless plan, perfectly executed.

“What brainwashing? It was my true heart all along.”

“How rude. My honest feelings.”

“These beastkin b*stards, are they mocking our resolve and our hearts? Are they calling us weaklings, easily swayed by brainwashing?”

“It might be a ruse. They’re giving us an excuse to run, a way to save face and desert, if there’s even a flicker of doubt in our hearts. They’re telling us to run.”

“The nerve! Are they calling us cowards?”

The sound of that plan, that edifice of iron and steel, collapsing and crumpling could be heard.

“What? That can’t be. Amplify the relays! Now!”

They needed more case studies, testimonies from those who had been brainwashed.

But the content of those testimonies was worlds apart from what Dracozar had anticipated.

“To be true to my heart, to shed all pretense and pursue what I truly desire. If that is the brainwashing – to allow me to follow my heart, even if it means not participating in the Southern Expedition – then how foolish is this Ian? To use his power to unlock a heart that was already straining against its cage! “

“We already heard about it from Theresa’s revelation. Ian is overdoing things. He is joining the subjugation force, one that he does not need to in order to save us, to save the kingdom. Our weakness made Ian worry and made him apply the brainwash.”

“If there’s a fault, it isn’t Ian for imposing the mind control. It’s our hesitation and weakness that made it inevitable he had to resort to such measures!”

From the crowd, a chorus of agreement surged forth.

“That’s right. Ian is not at fault!”

“If the noble saint of the Revolutionary Order, who showed us the spirit of revolution, is a sinner, then we are the heinous criminals who put him in this predicament! This great sin, it must be repaid with our lives!!”

“If it’s a crime for a boy barely ten years old to use mind control in his desperation, fully aware of the potential for ability overload, then I will gladly become an accomplice to that crime!!”

The grand army did not abandon the mind controller.

On the contrary, morale soared.

Their belief was truly their own.

Not fanatical zealotry, not blind faith, but genuine loyalty –proven by Dracozaar himself!

“Our fight is for the future of the kingdom, for all life against the Demon Lord’s army that will soon descend from the north. What grand cause do *you* have?”

“If our fervent wishes and will are a falsehood born of mind control, then reveal your own noble desires and will, beastkin!”

The beastkin faltered.

They possessed no lofty ideals or resolve.

They simply envied the civilization of humans, reveling in riches and glory, and coveted everything they possessed.

The powerful dominate civilization.

They simply desired to reign and plunder.

In essence, the beastkin alliance was no more than a savage ecosystem built on exploitation and oppression.

“There’s no way we can win against this.”

“We’ve already lost. We yielded in spirit.”

A wild beast lives by instinct; if its prey shows fear, it attacks with ferocity. But if it senses it’s at a disadvantage, in danger, it tucks its tail and flees.

The beastkin sensed Dracozaar’s utter disadvantage, a monumental crisis for their own kind.

Escape.

And escape.

One beastkin began to run, followed by ten.

Behind ten came a hundred, then a thousand, then ten thousand.

Soon, all the beastkin scattered, fleeing to the opposite side of the battle line.

“Now is the time! All units, follow my orders and pursue the fleeing enemy!”

The final image was Teresa’s shout.

Then the screen went dark, bisected by Cecilia’s wire.

“Dracozaar. I received your gift. Now, it’s our turn to present one.”

“There’s a perfect spot for trash like you. A grave!”

The leadership of the Beastkin Revival Society was forced to confront an unavoidable extermination campaign.

“Frightening. Truly frightening. We thought we had undone the mind control, but all we did was peel back a single layer.”

Dracozaar trembled with dread.

His eyes, skilled at discerning human desire, could see it.

The sight of countless individuals imbuing themselves with a will forcibly imposed upon them, fueled by their own desires and determination.

A firm belief, more terrifying than a silver tongue, had self-brainwashed their hearts.

Ian was not the only mind controller.

The entire army of the mind-controlled.

Everyone within the Westwood Command was a Mindbender.

Self-brainwashed in the name of Justice, forever renewing their conviction; a way to undo the brainwashing of the entire legion never existed to begin with.