Where does the strength of the priests come from?
If asked, the answer was simple.
It is due to the vast power they wield and the empowerment of their bodies by the evil deity that grants them such power.
This makes them quasi-deities and gives them the ability to manipulate the world.
That formidable vitality allows them to fight even from injuries that would kill an ordinary human, and the power in their hands warps reality beyond reason.
The bodies transcending limits became tools for destroying enemies, and the lost humanity soon turned into the cruelty that forces enemies to kneel.
This is why priests are strong and why humans typically cannot defeat them.
However, the martial monks were somewhat different from this norm.
“Co, coming…!”
A soldier’s voice filled with anxiety, muttering like a soliloquy. Soldiers gripping ballistae tensed their shoulders, and those holding spears clenched their teeth in fear.
Beyond their shoulders could be seen the legendary strongest martial monk and the first being to ever become one.
Countless martial monks followed in the wake of this entity’s charge, covering the darkened earth as they advanced.
As soldiers recognized them, the sound of swallowing saliva echoed clearly beyond the thunderous footfalls.
The approaching martial monks could be divided roughly into three groups.
Long-range weapon-wielding martial monks running from the farthest backline.
Martial monks holding various shields, coordinating their movements while running.
And martial monks riding enormous creatures resembling enlarged grasshoppers, beetles, and cockroaches, wielding long polearms as they charged forward.
In their own way, these were warriors chosen by the Supreme Divinity.
A ‘strategic movement’ that other deities’ priests wouldn’t be able to accomplish.
Though not entirely efficient, their coordinated movements undeniably resembled an army.
The difference between martial monks and other priests lay there.
As can be inferred from their great numbers, the divine power granted to martial monks was not abundant.
Only enough divine power to maintain their bodies’ transcendence of human limits. Thus, the strength of an average martial monk came from elsewhere.
And that strength wasn’t much different from the strength of humans.
Embodied techniques and experience, sharp intuition and senses, judgment honed through battles—these made a strong martial monk.
A strong martial monk was also a strong human. Only those who were already strong as humans could become powerful martial monks and earn the title of “Named.”
The Executioner was such an example, as was the Collector, and most of the strong martial monks Aslan had encountered throughout his life.
Among them, the figure now approaching stood out particularly.
The Divine Being’s Sword.
The last emperor of the ancient empire and the first veteran of battle.
He surrendered to the Supreme Divinity to save his people but ended up becoming the Divine Being’s Sword alongside those he sought to protect.
Seeing the shadow advancing through the resonating ground, Aslan sighed.
With a body swollen from devouring several human souls, empowered by immense divine power, wielding swordsmanship and combat skills gained during his lifetime—The Divine Being’s Sword was a formidable adversary.
An enemy one would only encounter in the late stages of a game, impossible to confront properly unless one’s level was above 15.
Thus, the chances of victory were slim.
But not nonexistent.
Aslan reviewed his established plan once more in his mind while glaring at the approaching martial monks.
As the creeping Divine Being’s Sword approached with martial monks flanking like wings, it suddenly halted and rose its body. In response, Aslan raised his hand.
“Sound Absorption Barrier!”
This time, the wizards did not hesitate or delay.
Once again, they summoned a barrier using their mana, covering the front of the fortress. The pale-blue screen shattered immediately after a roar that seemed to bend space itself.
!
The bending space returning twisted fragments of magic. The malevolent aura flowing through the gaps was oppressive enough to make even Aslan twitch his eyes.
“Ugh…”
“Hiiik…!”
Naturally, the soldiers were terrified and swallowed their fear.
It was commendable that they didn’t flee.
Fleeing was probably impossible anyway, so Aslan turned his gaze from the soldiers and picked up his bow.
The stopped Divine Being’s Sword and the still-advancing martial monks. When the features of the charging martial monks became visible, voices began to emerge among the soldiers.
“Aim!”
“Don’t shoot yet, draw them closer!”
“Prepare to fire!”
The siege weapons tilted, their massive arrows glinting under the sunlight.
At the same time, the junior officers among the archers shouted in unison.
“Draw!”
Soldiers holding bows trembled in their legs, panting as they strung their arrows onto the bowstrings.
“Pull!”
The successive commands tightened the bowstrings. The expressions of the archers reflected their heightened tension.
The martial monks embedded in the tense pupils of the soldiers. The rushing divine servants, having brought countless deaths and expected to do so again.
Despite the countless arrows aimed at them, the martial monks showed no hesitation.
Firstly, the sheer number of approaching shadows was daunting.
A fortress like Netchagni could fall before midday given the scale and quality of the force.
Thus, they felt no fear.
After all, they were facing merely a human army.
They simply held their shields slightly tilted and glared at the fortress walls.
Through the squinted eyes, numerous images appeared. Beyond those images, there was a flicker.
“Release!”
With the command, a rain of arrows descended. Death was unleashed from the drawn strings, and ballistae fired massive arrows directly at individual martial monks.
An assault that a regular human army couldn’t withstand. Yet, the mounted martial monks did not stop. Instead, they increased their speed and raised their shields.
What followed was shield technique at its peak.
clang!
The mounted martial monks deflected the countless deaths aimed at them with mere gestures.
They redirected arrows with the edges of their shields and inserted shields into the trajectories of incoming projectiles, deflecting them away.
Amidst the scattered arrows, the martial monks accelerated again, swinging their shields and brandishing their weapons as they rushed toward the fortress wall.
Continued volleys of arrows and ballistae attacks were directed at them. Seeing the meaningless waste of resources by the frightened humans, the martial monks smirked.
They believed they wouldn’t lose to humans who were merely terrified.
Blinded by their arrogance, a subtle change occurred among the ballistae and archers.
The death-bound arrows turned green.
“Release!”
Another command rang out. Another rain of arrows fell. Amidst the descending death, at the moment the arrows were deflected—
Whiiiirr!
The countless arrows that fell to the ground emitted a strange light along with the incantations of the mages revealed on the fortress walls.
“Cease fire! First rank reload!”
With the junior officers’ shouts, the arrows turned red, erasing the green glow as they burned from the ground.
Realizing the burning too late, the cavalry scrambled, retreated, and leapt down—but
KABOOOOM!
Few survived the subsequent explosion.
The arrows fallen on the ground themselves fragmented into shrapnel, scattering shredded organs and flesh pieces, delivering death sentences to their rightful owners.
“Kraaaah!”
Among the screams, surviving cavalry desperately retreated, but the ballistae atop the fortress walls did not cease.
“First rank fire! Second rank reload!”
Twang, twitwitwitwong!
This time, there was no time to defend.
The mounted martial monks either jumped to barely save their lives or were impaled by the incoming ballistae arrows and tumbled to the ground.
Within moments, they were reduced to tatters, and the barrage continued.
Crossfire from the ballistae filled the fortress walls. The relentless volley of death utilized the wealth of the Calus Empire and the metallurgical capabilities of the Varmanz Mountain Kingdom.
Preparations made solely to fight the Supreme Divinity’s Sword. With plenty of arrows remaining, the ballistae continuously fired without rest, and the fortress walls bustled with the movement of soldiers carrying arrows.
As the number of cavalry gradually decreased, other martial monks appeared before them.
Wearing heavy armor and wielding massive shields capable of covering their large bodies.
When they densely lined up, the arrows from the ballistae bounced off their shields without piercing through.
Behind them approached martial monks armed with bows, slings, javelins, and maces.
Watching their movements and the distance between them and the heavily armored martial monks, Aslan signaled the hidden archers on various parts of the fortress wall.
Then the best snipers of the Varmanz Mountain Kingdom drew their longbows and loaded extra-long arrows onto the strings.
Their perfected skills after extensive training. As Aslan assisted with one hand and aimed his bow, several near-linear trajectories adorned the battlefield.
Twang!
The firing sounds almost indistinguishable from each other. The distant martial monks armed with ranged weapons were uniformly pierced.
It was regrettable that none of the pierced martial monks died, but Aslan paid it no mind.
Close-range shots through shield gaps upon reaching the heavy infantry. Attacks conducted with superhuman strength targeting the fortress walls prompted Aslan to shout quickly.
“Everyone, take cover!”
At the call, the ballistae ceased firing, and the soldiers hastily grabbed and extended the shields they had set aside.
Screeeech!
The martial monks’ attacks rained down on the fortress walls.
Clangclang, zzzzip!
Javelins, throwing axes, sling stones, and arrows battered the fortress walls. Fragments of the fortress crumbled and fell.
Even soldiers whose necks were torn by the javelins let out groans close to screams, but none threw away their shields and fled.
Between the battering of overwhelming strength, Aslan glimpsed the scene and sighed coldly at the martial monks conducting forward-firing.
Their tactics were too predictable.
Strategy and tactics were unnecessary for martial monks, so it was natural that their plans converged in this direction.
‘Your tactics are all known to me.’
Having experienced them for twelve years, Aslan could track the entire battlefield with his eyes closed; their tactics remained unchanged.
And that unwavering consistency would be the poison that killed them this time.
Aslan pulled out a scroll from his tool pouch while casting a glance at the nearby junior officer.
Upon receiving the glance, the junior officer immediately pulled out a horn from his waist and blew it.
Bwooowww!
The sound of the horn spreading across the fortress walls. The deafening noise reverberated everywhere along the walls. Among the noise, some individuals cautiously lifted their heads.
From the narrow gaps provided by the shields, they gestured with their hands, moved their mouths, or swung their staffs.
Aslan, too, ignited the scroll with mana while muttering.
“Fireball.”
His raised hand emanated heat as flames slowly grew larger at the end of it.
The pure violence of heat caused nearby soldiers to turn pale and sweat, but Aslan did not spare them a glance as he raised his hand higher.
The effect of grounding amplified the magical artifact’s performance. Even a common, low-quality scroll created by a third-rate wizard transformed into something akin to a grand mage’s spell in Aslan’s hands.
As the flame swirling like a miniature sun spun above his hand,
“Launch!”
Aslan shouted and swung his hand, and the junior officer blew the horn with full force.
Then, with a roaring sound, the fireballs tied across the entire fortress wall flew forward.
The targets were the vanguard of the martial monks—the line of heavy infantry and archers.
The moment dozens of fireballs struck, the barren land of the morning, just as the sun was rising, turned crimson and burst into flames.
KABOOOOM!
Flames surged forth. Martial monks writhed and rolled. The smell of burning insects filled the air as few retreated.
“Ballista reload!”
Only then did the soldiers raise their heads.
Archers retrieved their bows, junior officers shouted commands, and those handling the ballistae aimed at the retreating martial monks’ barely raised shields and backs.
“First rank fire!”
“Release!”
In the positions vacated by the retreating martial monks, a few more deaths rolled across the barren land, staining it red.
