Chapter 54 – Loser (4)
‘Remaining allied forces at 50%.’
Typically, when the deployed forces suffer a certain level of loss, it’s standard practice to retreat. You can’t put everything on the line in a single battle.
But I am different now. Even if all the forces I’ve deployed die, the calculation is that if the enemy loses an equivalent number, it will still ultimately be worthwhile.
I focus more of my attention, merging my mind into the body of one soldier currently rampaging across the battlefield. It’s an Alpha type of the Fallen Ones, the most numerous and basic soldier type, using six limbs and a venomous stinger.
At once, a vivid battlefield unfolds before my eyes.
It’s filled with allies and enemies in every direction, the cries and roars of the enemies blending into a cacophony that threatens to burst my eardrums.
“Hold your ground! If we yield, it’s the end!”
Amid all this chaos, a Hobgoblin knight valiantly directing his subordinates catches my attention. Despite the overwhelming circumstances, he seems determined, even if the state of the soldiers surrounding him is concerning in my eyes.
The pile of their Fellow Racemates’ bodies is rising mountain-high with fear, as our advancing soldiers push them back. Their faces are petrified with panic, clutching weapons as they desperately hold their ground.
It’s undoubtedly due to Ludras’ harsh training that they’re holding their line, but more so, their frozen bodies are paralyzed with terror.
In this situation, what will happen if I kill that knight? The knight, displaying noticeable skill, swiftly cuts down our allied soldiers attempting to attack him.
Even the gigantic Caldarid beasts are no match for his magical blade that slices their jaws off and kills them. Of course, it’s the Alphas’ job to counter such foes—after all, they’re created with magical energy infused at the cellular level.
Now that I think about it, there’s something familiar about his face. He might be the knight I met once while I was wandering through their territory disguised as a Hobgoblin.
“You…!”
The knight, catching his breath and realizing my intention as I move the Alpha body towards him, grits his teeth.
He’s aware that I’ve come for him, yet he doesn’t back down from the challenge.
He knows that if he fails, his subordinates will collapse as a result.
‘I can’t capture him with this capability.’
Chuckling smugly, I summon my magic. The Alphas, having been created with magic down to the cellular level, can also perform feats like this.
By borrowing the power of magic, the universal cells ingrained in their bodies can be reawakened to transform their structure and nature.
Using that ability, I proceeded to modify the Alpha type Fallen One’s body in real time.
The cells split at an astonishing rate and simultaneously change their forms. The body gets larger while the carapace becomes tougher.
The tail extends, creating a second venomous stinger, forming a thick and sharp spear-like weapon that writhes like a scorpion’s tail.
“What? This can’t be…!”
The knight, along with the other surrounding enemies, freezes in shock upon witnessing the real-time transformation. This brief hesitation allows me to miss the last opportunity they could have had to eliminate me.
“Lord Elon!”
“I’ll stop him!”
After further transforming into a stronger and tougher form, I charge forward. The knight, shaking off the protests of his subordinates, raises his sword and rushes toward me.
While skilled enough to deflect the swinging stinger, break through my defenses, and aim to slice my body, I was already swinging my tail with equal speed.
“You… You’re planning…”
“If dying together benefits me, you mustn’t have expected me to detonate like this without hesitation.”
Realizing my intentions, his eyes widen in alarm, but it’s already too late.
While his sword cuts into my body, the prepared frame designed for pure combat doesn’t consider such injury significant. Meanwhile, my tail penetrates his side, piercing through his body.
Even as he struggles, his mouth opens but is unable to form words due to the toxic stinger tearing through his lung via the wound in his side.
“Lord Elon…!”
“Run… It’s too late!”
And just as I expected, with the knight’s defense crumbling, his subordinates begin to fall like dominoes. Once the command structure starts to collapse at the lower levels, even the largest legion cannot avoid crumbling.
But we are different. My soldiers, solely controlled by me, do not falter or collapse. They simply carry out my orders.
[30% of allied forces remain.]
“Keep fighting.”
The battle drags on, like being trapped in a swamp.
The number of the fallen now far exceeds those still standing. The once-open plain now lies covered with corpses, hiding the grass and soil beneath.
Both my soldiers and the enemy are in the same predicament.
The Alpha-type Fallen One I possessed and transformed suffers injuries and dies under concentrated enemy attacks.
But I don’t let up. Even as some of the enemy attempt to retreat, I press their heels, knowing they wouldn’t be able to escape even if they tried. If they had had the strength to escape, things wouldn’t have escalated to this stage.
[Remaining forces at 20%.]
The end is nearly here. The exchange ratio matches my calculations. Our forces are annihilated, and only a few of the enemy survive.
“Complete annihilation.”
A Hobgoblin, presumably Ludras, steps forward alongside his knights to annihilate the last remaining soldier under my command.
But I smirk while watching my fallen forces through the eyes of my reconnaissance units.
In the end, only a handful of forces remain for Ludras as well.
All I need to do now is to create more soldiers. With just a few days, I can recover more than half of the forces I’ve just expended. Based on my calculations, with their main forces obliterated and no options left, the enemy will starve and eventually die.
*
“Lord…”
“They planned this from the beginning. They were confident that by fighting to the death, the eventual survivors in battle would be on their side.”
Though they had won, no one regarded it as such.
The supplies, the soldiers—all were utterly wasted in a single reckless gambit.
Looking up to see the opposing legion’s scouts openly surveilling them from the skies, Ludras sheathed his sword, his expression stony.
“To the survivors.”
“A few knights and a small number of soldiers remain.”
Through a full mobilization, they had managed to annihilate the demon forces, including their heavy combat units, but all they had left were fleeting moments and a handful of survivors.
Even the survivors were physically exhausted, but more significantly, they were deeply consumed by fear and despair.
The realization that they couldn’t continue fighting had become a self-evident truth embedded in their minds.
“My judgment was not wrong, and it will not change.”
In such a situation, Lord Ludras’ gaze sharpened, his yellow eyes gleaming. Those who saw his expression instinctively felt an unsettling unease.
“Prepare the fire immediately. These creatures scavenge even the corpses for nourishment. We have no reason to do them any favors. Now that they’ve exhausted all their forces, we will head straight for their main base.”
“Lord!”
Ludras doubled down in a final, high-stakes gamble that left everyone stunned—bordering on sheer recklessness.
“Of course, the enemy might have set a trap, so we won’t rush into it. However, if we allow time to drag, they will only replenish their soldiers from their countless nests. We must find and burn their real ‘main nest’ before that.”
Understanding there was no turning back to their own fortress, Ludras was simply placing his bets on the highest probability, even if it seemed an almost impossible shot. Ludras was not a game statistic. Although his actions may have seemed like irrational madness, he was, in fact, the most rationally living creature who could still make decisions.
The problem was that this terrifyingly reasonable choice could only be accepted on a level that suppresses instinctive fear and dread, the kind of decision only those moving purely for the collective benefit of a hive could make. Normal beings would not easily countermand their fundamental survival instincts.
“Do you intend to disobey?”
Ludras, sword drawn, looked over his subordinates.
Despite no one opening their mouths easily, perhaps due to Ludras’ prior instilled discipline, surprisingly, no one resisted or outright refused his command.
In this small way, Ludras had successfully cultivated a semblance of the Hive Mind’s commanding leadership on his own.
“Lord, even if we advance and discover empty nests, we cannot identify which is the true one. If we fail to find their main nest, we’ll only exhaust our time and be helplessly annihilated in the enemy’s now-barren stronghold.”
“Those creatures made one mistake. Perhaps they didn’t think we would advance this far and failed to properly disguise the traces. Following those traces will at least tell us where they started, giving us a clue to their origin.”
A rational criticism arose.
Ludras, instead of dismissing the question, provided an answer.
The mistake made by the Legion. As Ludras mentioned it, he gazed into the desolate wasteland where once a lush forest stood, muttering under his breath.
