Everyone, Prepare for Battle!!
At the edge of the Great Plains, what awaited us was a horde of monsters known as the Demon King's army.
The sheer impact of that name made my brain freeze for a moment. I'd thought this was just some quirky world. But spells, sorcery, monsters—and now the Demon King's army? Didn't that mean there was a Demon King out there too?
"D-D-Demon... Demon King's army? Those m-monsters are the Demon King's army?!"
But the elders didn't have the luxury to answer me.
"An army of demons?"
"Indeed. Creatures that would never gather together under normal circumstances have banded as one. And above all, I can see the crimson banners of the Demon King's army."
"How have the invaders already..."
Dozens of years ago, invaders had breached beastkin territory. Their true nature? Demons led by the Demon King. And now, those same invaders had pushed all the way to the plains, intent on wiping out every last beastkin.
"This can't be right. Does that mean the Great Plains have fallen into demon hands?"
Ever since hearing "Demon King's army," Rippling Earth Serian hadn't been herself. She looked utterly rattled by the sudden turn of events.
"Rippling Earth, calm yourself first. If the plains had sided with them, they would've led us right into their midst."
"Exactly. Deer Elder, those things are at least two miles away. We've spotted them, but they haven't seen us yet. We hold the advantage here—we get to choose."
By the way, these barbarians used the yard-pound system. Having been so used to the metric system in my past life, I still had no feel for distances whenever units came up. They said I was 4 feet tall—did that even make me big or small? I had no clue what two miles meant, but eyeballing it, they looked about 3 kilometers off. If they charged straight at us, it'd still take them at least 20 minutes, right? Combat wasn't breaking out right this second.
"What about the banner's emblem?"
"Hmm... hard to say. Wait, no—it's just a plain red banner. No emblem."
"No emblem?! Then they're not nobles? M-maybe it's a false flag?"
I peered at the banner too. There, towering in the midst of hundreds of monsters—not beasts, but demonic beasts—was a fluttering red flag. Pure crimson, without a single marking.
"No emblem on the banner, and the visible demonic beasts all look pretty low-tier."
Hearing that the situation might not be the absolute worst eased Serian's expression a bit. Her trembling voice steadied, and a spark returned to her eyes.
"Right. Then the info we got a month ago from the warriors in the gorge must be solid. The invaders suspect our presence and are out searching separately. Those guys down there were probably just ordered to scour the plains—no certainty behind it."
The beastkin tribe's warriors and elders had been luring pursuers away in distant lands to draw the Demon King's army's eyes. In the meantime, the remaining tribesfolk had slipped into the plains under two elders' guidance and settled without detection. But lately, scouts had picked up signs they were hunting non-warriors too. In the end, they'd concluded they had to abandon the plains for somewhere safer. That's why we were leaving now.
"Likely a scouting party sent to probe the plains."
"But that's a lot of demonic beasts for a scout group."
"Sharp Wind Lark, you might not know. If the commander is a dominator type, that explains it. Those bastards fight by controlling swarms of beasts."
Not all those monsters were proper Demon King's army. Demons under their banner were dominating the beasts and using them as fodder.
"What do we do? Turn back?"
"No use. The plains put us in this spot. Running just delays the inevitable—we'll clash eventually."
"No other paths visible beyond them anyway."
The Great Plains don't tolerate clashes between intelligent beings. That's why groups never cross paths to begin with. But if they do meet? It means the plains intended the collision.
"Unbelievable... the plains, the plains demand blood?"
Serian looked deeply shaken. Come to think of it, she was a druid, wasn't she? From a druid's perspective, who lived in harmony with nature, the Great Plains' actions must've been a shock.
Back when I first heard terms like shaman or druid in this world, I'd dismissed them as primitive faith. But after experiencing mirages and sorcery firsthand lately, I was starting to think druidism could be legit too.
"What the plains intend doesn't matter right now. Don't overthink it."
"Y-yeah. Right. Sorry."
Why the plains were pitting us against the Demon King's army? We could puzzle that out later. Right now, there was only one priority: beat those hundreds of demonic beasts.
"Sharp Wind Lark, rally everyone."
"Got it."
As Sharp Wind Lark turned, our eyes met.
"Oh. Ursa. You're here too. Things just got complicated. I'll explain later—help me gather the people for now."
"Uh... yeah!"
I helped Sharp Wind Lark assemble the tribesfolk. That's when I spotted Bear Elder, changed out of his usual cloth garb into battle-ready leather armor. It meshed perfectly with his massive build and fierce face, radiating pure barbarian warrior vibes.
"Everyone's gathered well. I'll keep it brief—this is urgent."
Bear Elder briefed them on the situation. Battle with the Demon King's army. The elders grasped it instantly, their eyes sharpening. Younger beastkin who'd been kids during the invasion looked rattled. The children didn't understand at all—just unfamiliar words, outfits, atmosphere. They tensed up mimicking the adults.
"We won't avoid the fight. Arm yourselves—weapons if you have them, farm tools if not, whittle sticks into clubs if that's all. They haven't spotted us yet. That's our chance. Move quickly!"
At his command, the tribesfolk sprang into action. Adults guided the young ones.
"Ursa. Over here."
Bear Elder, fully geared in his battle suit, called me over.
"Take this."
He pressed an axe into my hands—not a combat one, just for splitting firewood. Still a bit big for me, but I could swing it easily enough. Basha and Tamur could barely lift one, let alone swing it. Good thing I had some strength.
"We're all heading to the front. No one knows what'll happen in battle, so if anything goes down, you protect the kids."
"...What?"
Crazy barbarians! Shoving an axe in my hands and telling me to fend for myself—and babysit too? I was a peaceful modern civvie who'd never thrown a punch!
"Um... Bear Elder. I'm a kid too?"
Protect me!
"Haha. You're different. I trust you with this."
Different?! Sure, but still—this was too much! Don't overhype me! I'm not that reliable!
"The hawks confirmed the enemy. We're stronger overall. Just in case—don't worry too much. You probably won't even need to swing that axe."
Stronger? I saw hundreds of those beasts. More than all of us combined. No proper warriors, just elders and kids. Was he lying to calm me? I looked into Bear Elder's eyes. Full of conviction. No lie there. Maybe they had some ace up their sleeve.
"No warriors, right?"
"What are you saying? Every one of us is born a warrior. We're all warriors."
...Yeah, no. Just barbarian grit-talk. Bear Elder showed me how to swing the axe. No downside in learning, so I burned it into my brain.
Two hours later, the armed tribesfolk assembled. Some lacked proper weapons, clutching wooden clubs or stones.
"The enemy’s spotted us!"
Report from the hawk beastkin on watch.
"Status?"
"They're forming ranks. Coming straight at us. Goblins and kobolds on the flanks, lizardmen and demons in the center."
"Numbers?"
"Kobolds over a hundred. Lots of goblins—twice that. Thirty lizardmen. Four demons. One looks like the commander, three subordinates."
...That a scouting party? The Demon King's army just throws around 300+ troops like nothing? Maybe they did know we were here. We had about a hundred with combat experience—twenty of them elders. A hundred fifty green. Twenty kids including me. Headcount gap: easily double theirs.
"Only four demons. With that many beasts despite it, definitely a dominator. Using goblins seals it—no rank on that commander."
"Phew, what a relief. Hearing 'Demon King's army' had me thinking general or noble—nearly panicked."
The elders actually relaxed despite the overwhelming odds. ...Could we really take them? Thinking about it, we were beastkin. Sure, we looked like humans with animal bits tacked on, but we inherited the beasts' raw power too. Bear beastkin had bear strength, horse beastkin kicks and stamina, hawk beastkin eyesight—you get it, the strengths without the weaknesses like hibernation or cold sensitivity. To an ex-human like me, beastkin were just superior humans 2.0. And among us, one had hawk vision, wolf nose, bear strength, horse kicks and endurance, snake senses, and civilized brains. Who? This body. Reincarnated from an ultra-high-tech civ, now beastkin barbarian extraordinaire: Ursa.
I got why Bear Elder gave me the axe. No wonder he trusted me.
...I told myself, shaking off the nerves. Felt pretty good, actually.
But man, it's cold. My legs won't stop shaking.