Karnat Desert Fortress (1)
Desert fortress, huh. I rummaged through my memories. I'd definitely played it once on a sub-account for build research.
Battlefields with extreme climates like deserts were perfect for testing extreme builds—they amplified everything to the limit. Calling it "research" sounded grandiose; it was more like experiments tied to unit interactions. Anyway, it was unforgettable. The heat, the sandstorms. The base specs given on that battlefield were brutally fair to both monsters and humans alike. I'd experimented with how well you could leverage that as units.
The conclusion had been simple as hell: just rapidly train up wind mages, and you'd steamroll. A single fierce gust from a Wind Cutter would scoop up sand and shred the monsters—a sort of sandblaster effect. I hoped Karnat had a commander who'd figured out something that basic. Hell, even less than that would do. As long as there was a decent wind mage by some stroke of luck, it'd be fine. With such half-hearted prayers, I surrendered to the white light.
"Great Berga! Have you come at last?!"
What? Before the blinding white even faded from my vision, a headache-inducing screech drilled into my ears. Had I been summoned to Knox? Soon, my eyes adjusted to reveal soldiers with dark skin, sand-colored turbans, and masks. All of them prostrating themselves before me. How the hell was I supposed to interpret this? One thing was clear: this wasn't Knox. Had Erebus spread all the way here?
"We are honored beyond measure to behold the supreme assassin from beyond the dimensions."
Unfamiliar words. Way too unfamiliar. Let's break it down. From beyond the dimensions—yeah, summoned, checks out. Supreme assassin—no idea about the other mercs, but at this price tag, half-true at least. Mostly accurate, but why was that a "measureless honor" for you lot? And defense and assassins were the worst mismatch imaginable...
Ah. Now I properly took in the desert dwellers kowtowing before me. Scimitars in the shape of crescent moons hung plainly from their waists inside their cloak-like outer garments. That was fine. The problem was how ridiculously short they were.
"Damn."
The thought slipped out aloud by mistake. As if in response,
"Karnat's assassins greet the great mercenary."
The woman at the front stepped forward. My worst suspicions never missed. I'd prayed for a wind mage, and instead I got a den of dagger-wielders... Felt like no battlefield had been normal since Eldwin Forest. Well, that's why they summoned me, I guess.
Lost in pointless thoughts, I finally noticed the commander.
Lustrous, voluminous wavy black hair. Dark skin like the other soldiers, but full of vitality rather than dry and weathered. Sand-colored cloak and turban just like the rest, but no mask. The standout feature was the small red gem embedded in her scimitar's pommel.
"I've always wanted to serve you someday."
She spoke to me again, but I stayed silent. More than that, couldn't she tell her groveling subordinates to get up first...?
"I'm Samar al Nasrin, leader of the Desert Fortress. Please, call me Samar."
"Got it, Samar. What the hell is all this?"
"Pardon...? What do you mean?"
Ah. She didn't even realize having an all-assassin frontline was a problem.
"I'm asking what this is. First, get your soldiers up."
The moment I finished, the soldiers—no, assassins—sprang up in perfect unison. They looked ready to die on command. Assassins were like that by trade, sure.
"Ah... I apologize for the confusion. As you can see, most of Karnat Fortress's soldiers are assassins. We occasionally summon mercenaries from beyond when invaders prove troublesome... but even among them, assassins are quite rare. As you know."
Invaders? Must mean the Waves. Rare among mercs... Yeah, that tracked from the game.
"Go on."
"Yes. Thank you. Lord Berga appeared one day as an assassin yet proudly claimed a spot among the mere ten Hero Grades. To the people of Karnat, you're something like an idol..."
Samar trailed off, embarrassed. More than that—ten? Hero Grade? I knew it was rare, but that rare? Nine others besides me. Had they all signed millennium contracts too? Needed a way to dig deeper...
"Understood. More importantly, can you tell me the other mercenaries' names?"
"Pardon? Well...!"
Samar's face twisted in distress. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. What? Some kind of gag order? Preventing us from knowing each other's identities?
"...If it's impossible, don't worry about it."
"How strange... It's like something blocks me the moment I try to speak. I'm sorry I can't help."
Seemed legit. Fine. At least I learned the admin office hated merc alliances. Made sense why the community was anonymous. If we knew who was who, commanders could beg or threaten summons.
"Mercs, huh? If you need 'em later, just say. Summon both here, done. Right?"
Kiara's words echoed in my head. Anyway.
"Don't sweat it. The important thing now is the Wave. You didn't summon me just to gawk, right?"
"Ah... Yes, understood."
Wave first—priorities. Plus, surviving Wave 39 on a field packed with trash-tier dagger monkeys. How the hell had they even reached 39?
"Samar. One question."
Wave was priority, but I had to ask this.
"How has Karnat Desert Fortress held off the Waves?"
"...Pardon?"
Did I have to explain? "...I was curious how you pulled it off with just assassins. Impressive, really."
Samar beamed at the sudden praise—practically glowing. Her fingertips twitched excitedly before vanishing behind her waist. Her turban bobbed as she rocked on her heels. Hell, even I'd be thrilled if the industry top dog complimented me.
"Th-thank you! We do have our struggles, of course. But Karnat's assassins are capable."
Those capable assassins had all been forehead-planting in the plaza three minutes ago.
"We use three basic countermeasures. First, there's a vast network of caves beneath the desert sands, like a maze."
"Caves?"
"Yes, like a termite mound... We use them for guerrilla warfare against invaders. We can hide in sandstorms too."
Smart. Hit-and-run from blind spots. If feasible, assassins made top-tier strike teams. My opinion of Commander Samar ticked up a notch. This was reality, after all. Soldiers were people; she couldn't just say, "Hey, drop the dagger and learn wind magic starting today."
Samar hadn't built these guys as assassins; they'd just all ended up here somehow. Still, a rational battlefield? Curiosity piqued.
"What's the second?"
"Ah! Yes! Second, we divide into disruption squads and mid-range throwers to clean up invaders! Karnat has a special weapon called the chakram..."
Samar explained enthusiastically. She seemed thrilled I was interested in Karnat. Turbaned desert warriors hurling circular sickles—straight out of a painting, perfectly fitting. Maybe I was the weird one for suggesting wind mages here. That's when—
"Third, we use poison!"
A shocking tactic popped out. Sudden biochemical warfare? Assassins' basics included poison killings, sure. Nothing was off-limits, really.
"...Thanks for the explanation. Now, to business."
"Not at all. I'm just glad you're interested in Karnat. You mean the invaders' info, right? Truth be told, that's the main reason we invited you here."
Yeah, figured. Though in other places, the Wave was the only reason. Kept feeling oddly amused, tension easing. Samar was dead serious, though.
"This Wave's invaders are a Banshee pack."
Banshees? That explained the subtle tension hanging over Karnat. I couldn't help but chuckle. Two rounds ago, I'd have been in the same boat. What could melee physical DPS do against Banshees?
But now, with World Tree sap flowing through my veins alongside blood... Whiny ghosts? One slash each.
Excellent choice...
Wait.
"Why didn't you summon a mage...?"
If you can't handle it, an assassin like me sure as hell couldn't... right?
"? Karnat doesn't believe in such superstitions. We trust only the weapons in our hands and the rewards we're given."
"...I'm an assassin too. Didn't it occur to you this might be impossible for me before summoning...?"
"Isn't there nothing impossible for Lord Berga?"
Well, not impossible... Not wrong, but... This summoner might be even more hopeless than Adrian.