Chapter 77

Time passed quickly, regardless of the complex emotions surrounding Palas’s words.

Salvation needed to be swift, and especially since it involved Priegoss, Alia’s actions were prompt.

However, it was too late to set out with reinforcements from the external city, so in Pohelrn, trainees, reserve troops, and soldiers who had already retired mobilized.

In just two days, hastily prepared under Alia’s capabilities, an impressive army of 500 was ready for salvation.

Moreover, it wasn’t just a task of humans; the champions from the martial arts festival, disciples of the goddess Araya, were also preparing to head to the battlefield, under the pretense of a crusade due to the interference of evil beings.

That being said, there was no intention to truly engage with humans, and they were only to be deployed to support the guardians of the forest when the numbers of Orcus grew.

And among those soldiers was an out-of-place group.

While everyone else was tense and stiff about the news of going to support soldiers retreating in defeat, this group, armed only with light gear, exuded a relaxed atmosphere.

Elven guardians.

They were from the Elven Road where Araya lived, essentially revered as a goddess by the people in the city.

Even though the soldiers were set to head toward the battlefield, seeing these beautiful beings with their calm expressions and attitudes provided them with a sense of reassurance.

To the believers of the new church, the elves were akin to angels descending from heaven, flying about and displaying miraculous abilities.

With 80 such angels accompanying them, even though their king was heading toward a battlefield where he had been defeated, courage emerged.

Thus, when all the forces for salvation lined up in front of the gate of Pohelrn, Alia mounted her horse, no longer dressed in her usual simple clothes but in armor, and announced their departure.

“The objective is to rescue His Majesty Priegoss! We set out!”

The soldiers and the provisions to feed them formed a long procession as they exited the gates of Pohelrn.

◈ ◈ ◈

“Here they come again.”

“As usual, do not rush in first and only respond when the enemy charges.”

“Ugh… it’s really tiresome.”

The adjutant Buker, who had been with Priegoss for a long time, said with a shiver.

After their crushing defeat in the first confrontation with the southern lord Bayatur Mutuk, Priegoss’s army was in continuous retreat.

Because of this, those barbarians shouting Baytar were pursuing them with great zeal, turning the cities and towns of Pohelrn into ruins.

However, under Priegoss’s judgment, while people were evacuated, and although villages and towns were burning, the casualties were not as significant.

Thanks to the increasing number of refugees, though the retreat was delayed, the actual damage was surprisingly minimal.

“…They’re really nothing if you can engage properly.”

“Well, they also know that, so even though they’ve won significantly, they are satisfied with just wearing us down. It seems Mutuk is crafty despite his brutal nature.”

“…Are you really praising the enemy at a time like this?”

Buker muttered impolitely to his king Priegoss.

Priegoss did not react to his impertinent adjutant and merely gazed at the enemies targeting them from a distance.

While he had verbally praised Mutuk, he did not genuinely hold a high opinion of him.

Considering the “variables” in this battle ahead, in truth, they should have already become fodder for the beasts of the plains.

The Batars led by Mutuk in front of him. The “human” soldiers did not seem terribly threatening.

But as the battle dragged on and shadows deepened, inevitably, monsters would pop up from those shadows.

They were creatures as large as humans but with skin of an abhorrent green color, with faces that seemed a mix of human and pig.

The hybrid monsters who originally hailed from the eastern continent referred to those creatures as Orcus.

The problem was that these Orcus were strong enough that three trained soldiers could barely hold one off.

The first battle had those Orcus appearing at various chaotic spots.

Moreover, among those Orcus, the particularly monstrous ones known as the Trihorn caused significant damage.

Because of that, Antrea, the high priestess of the hybrid swordsmen, suffered a serious injury, losing her left arm while desperately trying to open a route for retreat.

In such circumstances, they did manage to inflict some considerable damage on the enemy, but the fact that their original forces had shrunk to a third was a painful blow.

However, from then on, they avoided situations where shadows tangled into chaos and retreated while making only minimal responses, so the damage itself remained low.

There were indeed formidable monsters on the other side, but over here, the hybrid swordsmen were still a ridiculously powerful force.

“…Even so, it does feel a bit strange.”

Even if the ambush through shadows was the most effective strategy, if they sustained such near-destructive damage at present, the Orcus would still be enough of a threat if they came out in the open.

There was no situation that required trickery.

It was good to pursue slowly to minimize damage and conserve energy, but was it not dragging on too much?

From this side, it was nice to gain time.

‘But what is the reason for not finishing them off while they are at their weakest?’

Priegoss’s army, though elite, was currently exhausted.

Yet the reasons they had managed to hold out thus far were twofold. One was the faith in the new church. Priegoss’s army was composed of those who had been granted the miraculous power of martial arts. Their devotion was more fervent than that of ordinary believers, and though some might run away in adverse situations, they did not abandon their comrades according to their doctrine. Thus, the once legendary army, renowned for its invulnerability, managed to maintain its cohesion even after suffering a great defeat.

The other reason was that the only army pursuing them afterward was Mutuk’s Batars.

If it were another human army, Priegoss’s forces had never lost.

Even in exhaustion, Priegoss’s army repelled Mutuk’s forces, which were five times as numerous, like chasing away flies.

An army typically suffered negative impacts on both confidence and morale after a significant defeat.

However, while retreating, the fact that they were easily countering the enemy’s assaults restored their confidence, separate from any accumulated physical and mental fatigue.

That was why it didn’t make sense.

Why weren’t they crushing them and ending it while they were at their weakest?

Why weren’t the Orcus and those horrific witches proactively advancing?

“…Aren’t Mutuk and Algul’s Orcus perfectly aligned allies?”

Mutuk was not someone who didn’t know how to fight.

If the Orcus complied with his orders, there was no doubt he would have exerted all his strength to crush him.

Defeating him and maybe capturing or killing him would allow them to devour a significant portion of Pohelrn’s territory.

For someone with grand ambitions, there was no way he would let such an opportunity slip away just to toy with him.

“Although, it is true that such a monster wouldn’t readily follow a human’s orders.”

For some unknown reason, even if they team up, they did not seem to move as united as this side did.

It would indeed be strange for a monster from the eastern continent to coexist harmoniously with the humans of the western continent.

‘…Not that I have the right to say anything about it.’

For he too led succubi who had crossed over from the eastern continent.

However, seeing those ferocious and savage Orcus, he realized how fortunate he was to have Alia and her sisters.

If the first entity he had encountered was Algul, Priegoss would likely have regarded it as something to be toppled by humans rather than a companion.

“Are we about a day’s journey from the territory of Pohelrn?”

“Considering the increasing refugees, it might take a little longer.”

“…I wonder if Antrea has arrived safely.”

Priegoss thought of Antrea, who had suffered a serious injury while trying to protect him and had left the battlefield.

If necessary, being able to spread her wings and fly faster than a horse, Antrea would have long since arrived at Pohelrn and informed Alia of the situation.

‘…But what then?’

They had lost one, yet the five hybrid swordswomen remained.

If they began to make their move, they would be unstoppable for humans.

But it wasn’t just that.

The hybrid swordswomen were currently the strongest fighting force that humanity possessed.

If there were enemies even they couldn’t defeat, it meant that the current humanity had no chance of winning.

Alia might be able to lead them to salvation.

But even if Alia came, would she be able to lead the already exhausted troops to victory over Algul and the monsters?

‘It would be tough…’

Thus, it was a bitter defeat.

They might have to rely on the defenses of Pohelrn for an extended period while they sought a way to retreat and win.

But doing so could mean losing most of their well-established territory in Pohelrn.

There was no reason to follow a defeated king who could not protect them.

‘More importantly, I have to worry about my life right now.’

It was a battlefield still maintained due to the absence of Orcus and witches.

Essentially, they were holding on by relying on the enemy’s whims.

At their limits now, if the enemy were to strike, they could collapse any moment.

“This is painful.”

It was a situation he had never imagined before their departure.

He had taken victory for granted and thought only of the future after uniting the western continent.

As he held onto that bitter feeling, he remembered his mentor, who had gone missing after being attacked by what was presumed to be an Elder Roa from the north.

Would things have been different if that mentor were here now?

While Araya was not exactly a comforting presence for Priegoss, in this situation, he truly regretted her absence.

“Your… Majesty!”

A scruffy soldier, who hadn’t washed for a long time, rushed into Priegoss’s tent with an urgent expression.

From the despair evident in the soldier’s anxious face, Priegoss instinctively sensed that the news he bore would be far from good.

“…Bayatur Mutuk and… the Orcus and witches have appeared, leading all their forces!”

“…Damn, this is bad.”

Buker uttered a vulgar expression of despair upon hearing the soldier’s news.

Priegoss squinted his eyes at those words.

◈ ◈ ◈

As Priegoss stepped out of the tent and looked ahead, he saw it was not just a small number of Batars harassing them; all the Batars had lined up in formation, increasing their numbers against them.

Among those soldiers, there were also Orcus and almost naked women.

They had prepared a defensive formation against this, but the enemies’ grandeur, glaringly contrasting in scale, struck the already exhausted soldiers’ morale.

“The Bayatur of Bayatur of Batars asks the king of Pohelrn: Are you safe?”

A tall man stepped out, leading his horse and loudly called out to Priegoss’s camp.

Surely, it wasn’t out of mere concern. It was a provocation to ridicule the woeful situation of Priegoss’s camp.

That confident shout, promising victory, broke their morale once again.

Priegoss recognized him as a figure he had met on the first battlefield.

Bayatur Mutuk.

A warrior with a colossal body, as large as an Orcus, flaunting his unkempt and wild beard.

“…Your Majesty?!”

“I’ll be back. Buker, reassure the soldiers and prepare them to respond whenever a battle begins.”

Buker, who had been staring vacantly at him, exclaimed in surprise, looking at Priegoss as he mounted his horse and stepped forward.

The morale of soldiers was essential in the battle between groups.

They couldn’t let someone shout so boldly without a response.

In the current situation, the army barely holding together might collapse before even a fight began.

He had to take the initiative himself.

“Lamia. Are you there?”

“…Yes.”

As Priegoss spoke to himself, heading toward Mutuk, he heard a response from within Priegoss’s shadow.

“There may come a time when we will need to swiftly take Mutuk’s head in a surprise attack. I will ask for your cooperation.”

“…It always feels like I’m just suffering when I follow you.”

“I apologize.”

“If it weren’t for you…”

Lamia grumbled but did not refuse Priegoss’s request.

Using the divine arts crafted by her mentor Araya to circulate her energy, she led her horse to a position where Mutuk’s face could be clearly seen.

Mutuk casually observed her approach, his confidence radiating.

‘…Is it because of their certainty in victory?’

That would be understandable.

Priegoss let out a bitter smile.

Just like the first battle that had taken place just ten days before in the desert.

The rulers of the north and south gazed at each other’s lined-up armies.

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