Chapter 169: The Rolling Stone
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 169: The Rolling Stone
The Demon Realm Holy Land Cult sought to transform the entire continent into a literal Demon Realm.
Their reasoning?
"What is so wrong with the Demon Realm? Why can't you see that it is the very future we must evolve into? It is only natural to fear the unknown, but running away will solve nothing."
It was absolute bullshit.
So, why turn the continent into the Demon Realm?
"Because it is right."
Was there anyone else in the world who embodied the word 'fanatic' so perfectly? There was no logic to be found, no shred of justification. They simply believed. They insisted it had to be so.
Blind, bottomless faith—pure fanaticism.
The cultists were truly insane bastards. This was why the Inquisitors went to such extreme lengths to hunt them down and slaughter them.
In truth, the cult had attempted to "demonize" various regions several times before, and a similar plot was unfolding on this very land. They had sacrificed a hundred freshly slaughtered goats to lure the gnolls, intending to turn this entire territory into a wasteland of monsters and demonic beasts.
Since the cultists had begun gathering monsters before the pioneer village was even established, it was a threat no one could have anticipated.
Initially, they had planned to establish a gnoll kingdom in the region. That plan had shifted midway into a direct raid on the village. With its sturdy walls and watchtowers, the carefully constructed pioneer village could easily serve as a small fortress if managed well.
Such excellent prey had walked right into their laps.
"God has smiled upon us."
The cultists truly believed this. Was this not a revelation, telling them to fatten up the monsters and swell their ranks this very instant? Right before them, the prey was practically carving off its own flesh to offer itself up. Thus, the grand feast to swallow the pioneer village whole began.
It was not a task they took lightly.
The cult poured their heart and soul into the operation. They infiltrated mercenary groups under assumed identities and gathered even more gnolls. The cult's spells were deeply intertwined with monsters; those skilled in brainwashing and bewitchment took the lead, supported by low-ranking believers and priests.
Gnolls, monsters that closely resembled hyenas in behavior, always fought in packs and roamed together. This meant they were highly prone to forming massive colonies—all they needed was a leader.
Curses and empowerments were bestowed upon a single gnoll. In this manner, they forged an army.
Expanding the colony into the hundreds was not something achieved in a day or two. This endeavor was stained with the cultists' blood, sweat, and tears.
"We shall establish the Holy Land!" they cried out in the middle of the wilderness.
They poured in Krona to arm the gnoll packs, created a leader, and bound it with spells. In terms of actual resources spent, the cost exceeded that of running the entire pioneer village. But it was worth it. To reap a great profit, one must first invest the capital.
This was merely the beginning of what the Demon Realm Holy Land Cult sought to achieve. While the cultists invested their time and resources, the pioneers had built their walls.
This was the truth behind the siege.
It was a scheme that had unfolded entirely out of Encrid's sight. Naturally, it was completely unexpected.
But so what?
It was none of his business. Knowing the "why" changed nothing. Encrid did not dwell on the backstory. Monsters were coming, and his only thought was to slaughter them. They were demonic beasts. All he had to do was kill them.
*
"What kind of... demonic beast horde is this?"
Krais was the only one who had a vague inkling of the situation. A horde like this appearing out of thin air in the wilderness? Armed, no less? And with spies already planted inside the village?
It was utterly absurd.
He had held a blade to the village chief's throat, heard the howling echoing from beyond the walls, and managed to hastily treat Finn in the meantime. After that, he had rushed up the watchtower to assess the scale of the threat. As he moved, Krais's mind raced furiously.
The cult.
This was the work of the cultists. They were the single greatest nuisance on the entire continent—creatures bound by malice, flaunting their hostility. Just look at that monstrous horde. What else could it represent but pure malice?
Though it was a rough guess, Krais suspected that this horde was the culmination of the cultists' blood, sweat, and resources. But it was merely a guess. Since knowing changed nothing, he left it at that.
What does it matter anyway?
Survival was what mattered. From that moment, Krais's mind spun even faster. This was the conclusion he reached:
They have no trebuchets, nor mangonels.
The enemy had no catapults or large siege engines. Did the village have enough troops? Compared to the number of monsters, their forces were small. Unquestionably small. It would be wonderful if the walls could hold forever, but the number of gnolls and hyena demonic beasts easily exceeded several hundred.
Could they actually hold out? Was it possible to endure?
Several hyena demonic beasts scraped their claws against the wall, trying to climb. If they kept scratching, a weak spot would eventually give way. A small crack would soon become a hole, and a hole would become a breach.
There were also many gnolls wielding weapons. They slammed against the walls, while countless others hacked away with axes. Gashes were accumulating on the stone and wood. Was there a "dog hole" somewhere? If they breached, could they even block it?
I don't think we can.
At the very least, this was going to be a battle against the clock. They couldn't hold out for long. In that case, they had to wait for reinforcements. He had seen the village keeping a few birds—blue-feathered pigeons commonly used for urgent communications. Even if they sent them, there was no telling how long it would take for help to arrive.
The conclusion remained the same: Can we survive this?
Krais felt a creeping sense of dread. When he had previously praised the wall's sturdiness, he had anticipated a colony of average size—a pack of thirty to fifty at most. But this was ten times that.
"This is bad."
Dread surged within Krais. Instinctively, he looked for his platoon leader. He spotted Encrid moving, but the man showed not a single trace of anxiety. He seemed strangely composed.
Encrid silently walked up onto the wall. Krais knew that while his training-obsessed leader rarely paid attention to his surroundings, he was actually quite sharp. Seeing him act so calmly made Krais wonder if Encrid had some sort of plan up his sleeve.
Regardless, there was nothing Krais could do right now. He had treated Finn and taken a thorough look from the watchtower.
"Hey, I'm hurting here," Finn called out from below.
"I'm coming down."
Krais climbed back down. He had wrapped bandages around her as best as he could, but there was a hole in her stomach. By some miracle, her internal organs seemed to have escaped damage.
"I used the Eilkaraz-style organ-evasion technique," Finn said.
Did such a technique actually exist?
"Just kidding."
Seeing her crack jokes in this state, Krais realized Finn was definitely a bit of a headcase herself.
"You sound just like Rem's wife."
"That's an insult. I challenge you to a duel."
"Sure, whatever you say," Krais replied dismissively as he re-examined her wound. It looked like she wouldn't be able to move much. Still, since it wasn't fatal... "You won't die."
"For now, you mean."
Finn had noticed it too—the anxiety of wondering how long the wall would hold.
"Yeah, well."
Krais brushed it off. If things went south, he did have a way to escape. Though it would be a cruel fate for those left behind, Krais hadn't spent his time wandering the village for nothing. He always prepared for the worst, and he had already scouted an escape route.
*
A long firing platform ran along the top of the wall. Below it, a teeming horde of gnolls and hyena demonic beasts shrieked. It was a sea of monsters.
"What the fuck is this?"
"Why are there so many? No, this is way too many!"
"Pam? Pam is dead. No, Ralph too?"
Monsters below, and the still-warm corpses of their comrades above. When Encrid climbed up, the militia was frozen. Not a single man was drawing his bowstring. They were in a state of sheer panic. Perhaps they should be glad no one was wailing or pissing themselves yet.
Thud!
Gwoooh!
Along with the peculiar, guttural howl unique to gnolls, they slammed their bodies against the wall and the gate. The wall vibrated beneath Encrid's feet, but it was not enough to bring it down. At least, that was Encrid's assessment.
They rammed with their shoulders and hacked at the gate with axes. Thud! Thud! Still, it was fine for now. The wall was sturdy.
But the militia's minds were not. They were overwhelmed by the sheer pressure of the horde. Fear had completely paralyzed them.
"...What the hell is all this?!" one of the militia members cried.
This place was far from the center of the kingdom—even the Border Guard was to the north, and this area was even further on the outskirts. In terms of the Pen-Hanil continent, this was the deep north, a land where monsters were common. Even so, a horde of this size was abnormal.
Terror and pressure—the overwhelming presence of the monsters was taking its toll. A few gnolls that looked like variants picked up rocks slightly smaller than a human head and hurled them. The stones slammed against the wall, and smaller ones reached the platform where the men stood.
"Eek!"
At the whistling sound of the flying stones, the militia ducked beneath the parapet.
Encrid thought it again: they had built this wall incredibly well. Even Krais had assured him it wouldn't fall to an ordinary colony. But if left alone, it would eventually be breached. The wall hadn't been built to endure a horde of this scale.
The creaking gate, the militia holding the line—this wouldn't do. Once consumed by fear, it was over. If they just waited for the breach, only death awaited them. Then all the chaos they had caused since morning would have been for nothing.
"If you're not going to shoot, give it to me."
In the midst of the chaos, Encrid climbed the steep stairs and held out his hand.
"Huh?"
"I said, if you're just going to watch, hand it over."
He snatched the bow from the hands of the dumbfounded militia member standing next to him. A shortbow and short arrows. It didn't have a long range, but with monsters packed so tightly below, he just had to shoot. Even a careless shot would hit something.
It's been a while since I used a bow.
He had learned the basics of archery at some point. Plucking the string a few times, Encrid recalled the motions and set to work. Gripping the riser with his left hand, he extended his arm to aim, nocked an arrow, and drew back. The bow groaned as it bent. He had more than enough strength.
He aimed roughly at one of the monsters and released.
Thud!
It was just as a gnoll rammed its shoulder into the wall again.
Twang.
The sound of the impact overlapped with the release of the bowstring. The arrow whistled through the air and struck. It missed every single gnoll and hyena demonic beast, embedding itself straight into the ground. It was instantly snapped in half as the horde trampled over it.
Wait, how did that miss? He had aimed properly.
"You're a good fighter, but is this your first time with a bow?"
The squad leader spoke as he climbed up behind him. He was the fellow who had tried to stop the panic despite his own confusion. As Encrid had observed through his several 'todays,' this man possessed a decent amount of grit.
He was showing it now.
Another thud! Another Gwoooh!
Because of the noise, they couldn't hear each other unless they shouted. Encrid cupped a hand to his ear. "What was that?"
"I think you heard me just fine."
Encrid already knew the squad leader was a man of stronger grit than most. "I didn't hear a thing," Encrid replied.
The squad leader looked away and walked past him. He took a deep breath, tensed his abdomen, and roared at the top of his lungs.
"Do you all just want to fucking die?!"
The squad leader had an incredibly powerful voice. His booming shout pierced straight through the panic.
"Forget about Pam! Is this the time to lose your minds over a dead comrade? Can't you see what's right in front of us? Get a grip! Pick up your bows!"
Krais had been right; their discipline was solid.
Just then, Deutsch Fullman climbed up the ladder on the opposite side. What was his nickname back when he led a mercenary group? The One-eyed Glaive?
Deutsch's eye-patched face came into view. He glared fiercely at Encrid with his remaining eye before bellowing, "Shoot! The wall won't fall! Shoot them all down before you get hit by a rock!"
There were about twenty archers among them, and they seemed to have plenty of arrows.
"Um, my bow, please..." the soldier whose bow Encrid had snatched approached.
Encrid handed it back without a word. Bows really didn't suit him. This was something he would have to train in later.
Soon, the archers rained arrows down upon the horde.
Gwooooh!
Amidst the deafening shrieks and the sound of bodies slamming against the wall, the thrum of bowstrings filled the air.
Thwack! Thwack!
Unlike Encrid's shot, their arrows found their marks. They pierced the heads, arms, and legs of the charging monsters directly below. Though some wore crude studded leather armor, many of the gnolls were bare-skinned.
How on earth had they obtained such weapons? There seemed to be easily over five hundred of them. Arming five hundred soldiers like that would break the back of any ordinary lord. Something was seriously twisted here.
A conspiracy? Well, that was none of Encrid's concern. The important thing was that the militia had regained their senses.
Encrid watched the monsters fall, then cast his gaze further out. He hadn't been able to search while being chased through their ranks earlier, but now he had the luxury of time. He had a wall, he had time, and he didn't need to dance around to dodge fangs.
Finding his target was easy.
Standing leisurely among the variants was a small-statured gnoll. It was perched atop a small mound. A colony leader always required such a position; to rule through the law of power, it had to lead from a prominent, elevated spot where everyone could see it. Amidst the chaotic, screaming horde, it stood alone, aloof.
Hadn't he already died to that bastard several times? He had reached the point where he could tell gnolls apart by their features, so recognizing it was simple. If he died a few more times, he'd probably be able to distinguish their individual personalities.
"I'll leave this place to you," Encrid said, turning to head back down.
But leaving just like that felt a bit empty. Encrid shouted loud enough to be heard over the howling: "No matter what happens, don't panic and keep shooting! If you see an ally out there, don't hit them!"
What kind of bullshit was that?
Deutsch, who had been screaming to aim for the heads of the monsters at the gate, stared at Encrid. The man had barked something nonsensical before heading down. He had supposedly cut down several of Deutsch's subordinates, yet the squad leader claimed those subordinates had been acting strange. On top of that, one of his men was nowhere to be found.
Of course, now was not the time to argue. Deutsch was a competent mercenary. As the situation worsened, he kept his priorities straight. First, the monsters. After that, he fully intended to take that crazy bastard's head. He would ask with his blade what the hell Encrid had been thinking.
*
Encrid couldn't read Deutsch's mind, and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared. He stepped down among the men who were busy rolling logs and stones to block the gate.
"Esther."
The panther, who had been guarding the gate, trotted over to Encrid's side.
Encrid asked politely, "Can you watch my back?"
One of the soldiers stacking obstacles turned his head. Why is that guy talking to a panther?
A low growl. The panther nodded as if it understood.
What the fuck? Even in this dire situation, it was a sight that demanded attention.
"Hey, what are you doing?!" his comrade called out.
"Coming!"
It was time to finish piling obstacles. If the gate was breached, they had to hold them off. From that point on, it would be hand-to-hand combat. He swallowed hard. He was a soldier who had received training, but he had only experienced real combat twice. He was terrified. His knees shook at the thought of the horde just beyond the wood.
"From now on, everyone follows my command."
The rolling stone—the platoon leader who had arrived on orders, the man who conversed with a panther—approached and spoke.
"Can we open this gate just a crack?"
He barked the order. It was, quite frankly, a request not even worth listening to.