Chapter 68
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: 8th Floor - Lv. 55 Disciple (3)
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I'll worry about the universe later. I've got a mountain of issues to deal with first.
There was one piece of incredibly good fortune.
The Lava Hammer Shock Troops, who had looked ready to charge straight for the castle gates, had linked up with the battered Stormhowl Brigade.
There wasn't a single blade of grass nearby, so the powers of the God of Nature couldn't reach them.
A few mages and fairies had gone out to observe the area.
The two combined armies seemed to be starting by rebuilding their camp.
The surviving shamans would surely be probing our side as well.
They now knew the nature of the bombardment, and they probably figured another attack like that was unlikely.
I wanted to spectacularly betray that assumption, but unfortunately, it was true.
Most of the leaf fairy spiritists were sprawled out in the corner of the forest, drained of mana.
Mana doesn't recover quickly. To bounce back from exhaustion to full combat readiness takes at least a day— a week for peak condition.
If it wasn't a total depletion, recovery is faster.
But if you've emptied yourself down to the dregs, it takes time for the mana flow in your body to stabilize again.
I hadn't reached exhaustion myself.
Thanks to squeezing every last drop from others' mana while preserving my own. It's a trick you can only learn by actually performing rituals—fairies can't do it.
Even so, conjuring another grand spell in my current state was impossible today.
Magic classes like this aren't exactly all-purpose artillery. Once you're out of ammo, a modern gunner with unlimited rounds might be better.
But in this era, magic's existence has stunted firearm development. Dwarves tinker with them as a hobby at best.
The remaining priest-level leaf fairies were wandering the ruined forest outskirts, summoning fire spirits to keep the wounded warm.
The sun had climbed fairly high, but the weather was still cold.
The Hunter said,
"The bone-chilling dawn has passed."
"Is it morning already?"
"Time for breakfast. Then we should help the fairies."
"Help? With what?"
"The grove fairies will stay in that forest, so we need to clear it out, don't we?"
The Hunter had an astonishingly accurate grasp of fairy thinking.
They weren't the type to live in human-built structures.
Some leaf fairies were even pitching their own tents.
They prioritized moving the wounded inside. It might look simple, but summoning a lazy salamander or two makes it plenty warm.
"By the way, where do we get our meals? Think the lord would treat us to one?"
"The lord already evacuated."
"Evacuated? Why?"
"He must have thought the castle would fall."
"He didn't seem the type to run. Probably planning to return with reinforcements."
A fairy mage who had quietly appeared chimed in.
"That's the system, as I understand it. If there's good news, he'll come running too."
"Come to think of it, what was he off doing anyway?"
Before the brief battle, I'd vaguely heard he'd returned to his family. If someone who'd supposedly abandoned them did that, it probably wasn't trivial.
"Sir Dusburn Tigris, the wastrel son of a prominent ducal house."
"Oh, so he's some noble heir who ditched it all for glory?"
"Exactly. That's why I'm with him."
"I see."
I'd figured he was at least a prince, but apparently not. Still, thriving in Night Crow with that background? Yeah, total wastrel.
His character was solid, though. The noble life just didn't suit him.
Even recalling his look: one-eyed, with unkempt long hair swaying to his shoulders. A sword master who screamed 'endgame boss.'
"Is the human faction politically unstable?"
"As always."
"Every run's the same."
"'United humanity.' Sounds like an urban legend, doesn't it?"
I'd never seen it myself. Unlike other races defined by their species traits, humans' individual quirks vary wildly.
They're a tough bunch to unify.
"He'd better bring good news."
"At least it's not multiple countries. That'd be a nightmare."
"With three or four kingdoms bickering and saying 'that's another nation's problem' amid war? We'd have nothing to do with human factions."
"True that."
Right now they were enemies, but greenskins could be decent once you got to know them. Frustratingly dumb, sure, but their honesty came with the territory.
Even fairies had their shady ones, but orcs and ogres who revered raw strength with childlike purity could be downright endearing sometimes.
Trolls and ogres have a reputation for stupidity, but not all are like that.
Old ones are usually cunning and clever.
Of course, given trolls' and ogres' average lifespans, that ratio is tiny.
Anyway, the observed Lava Hammer Shock Troops' battalion commander was an ancient troll.
Old trolls aren't just cunning and clever—they're downright vicious.
Makes sense when nothing in the world seems tougher or stronger than you.
Being old doesn't make them less threatening, either.
They couldn't command if they couldn't beat the young ones in a brawl.
Left alone, this troll could evolve into a [Hero Unit] later—a seriously formidable one.
It's not just because he's an enemy now; we might face him again.
Exiles aren't the only ones who shouldn't leave grudges—it's true for residents too.
From an exile's perspective, where you never know when you'll meet someone again, skipping a promising foe now could mean facing a full-blown boss later.
A real headache if that happens.
The spiritists with energy left kept observing.
The shamans probably spotted our flying spirits but ignored them.
Greenskins don't hide themselves. Overcoming disadvantages in open battle is what makes them greenskins.
In the run where I rose to legion commander as an orc, that's why I favored goblins.
Goblins worship the God of War but win by any means necessary. Exhausting enemies, reliable allies.
Suits my style, which shuns fair fights anyway.
Even accounting for what my future self might have planned...
After racking my brain, I settled on a direction.
First, curious about the map size, I asked to see a map.
Maps were military secrets here, so they hesitated, but knights—second only to the lord—glared at the civil officials until they relented.
The sweet taste of power.
Verbal descriptions have limits.
First proper map of this run.
I knew the northern edge from experience.
That's why we lingered days searching an area we'd hit on 6th Floor already.
"Wide Map" isn't just slapped on anything big.
It appears at key branching points for major race storylines too vast for small maps.
Map sizes vary wildly. I'd confirmed the north end.
The snowfield theme belies how mild the cold gets farther in.
"The greenskin fortress is awfully close."
It really was.
Like those movies where the kingdom's capital and demon king's castle look suspiciously near—cinematic license, but strategically, yeah.
Nonstop on horseback? Under three days.
One knight nodded.
His demeanor showed respect toward me.
"The frontmost of frontlines."
Knights at a certain level grow sensitive to mana.
Not just swordmaster paths.
Even berserkers—who seem anti-magic—use it.
That's why knights were more shocked by the spirit king's appearance and attack than soldiers, and treat me accordingly.
Civil officials just saw a strong exile.
"This is also the greenskins' nearby base that's been raiding lately. Beyond the fortress, retired veterans and breeding groups have villages scattered around."
I treat them politely too. Greenskin light tanks are troll cavalry, heavy tanks those distant armored ogre-trolls. Human tanks? Knights.
Tough customers. Even now, I could handle three at most one-on-three. More, and I'd lose.
A beautiful society where mutual strength breeds respect.
"Borders touching like this, and we've had no major incidents so far."
The knight replied with pride.
"Only those who claim supremacy among knights get posted here."
National defense's bleeding edge, got it.
"Speaking of which, I have a plan. Could you gather the other commanders?"
Time wasn't exactly plentiful. Observations showed the Lava Hammer battalion at lunch.
What do greenskins do with full bellies?
War.
My conclusion from the map: disgustingly huge even for a wide map.
Probably because we'd made contact with so many factions already.
Post-kingdom, our party keeps dropping on wide maps or equivalent key spots.
Specifically, it encompasses a residential sprawl past the fortress big enough to call a greenskin city.
Mostly plains, cooling northward—but still the north.
Orc Empire's remote corner.
Humans probably just pesky alien race to them.
Game-wise, kingdom factions vs. empire ones show stark size differences.
"Stairs must be at the far end."
"Yeah. Probably that city."
Wide map rule: stairs in the shittiest, riskiest spot.
Pissing off the God of War made this inevitable, but damn, fast.
11th Floor's space? Greenskins venturing cosmic—wonder how I'm mythologized there.
The Hunter eyed me calmly.
"What?"
"I'd infiltrate. But as leader..."
"Nah, I'm infiltrating too. Can't take a city. I don't even have command here."
Surprised murmurs from the other side.
"You're not?"
"No?"
The Girl's eyes went wide. The youngest just blinked.
"Hey, I'm human too."
But soon enough, it would be.
We have to push out all greenskins. The God of Nature demanded the impossible from me.
[The God of Nature wishes for the fairy kingdom to be reestablished on this continent.]
Not calling it an empire was a relief. Part of me wanted to ask why dump this on me.
But the help so far was massive—and more to come.
If we're pushing greenskins anyway, might as well oblige.
[The God of Nature smiles.]
Wonder what gender this one's got? Our goddess crashed the party to reveal hers, but usually, you can't tell divine forms easily.
God of War? Obviously a troll—everyone knows.
As we chatted with the party, the commanders who'd been rallying troops gathered.
Entering the meeting room, all eyes turned to me.
Knights, soldiers, fairies, the fairy mage, Night Crow members.
Nominally called by civil officials as lord's proxy, but everyone knew.
In this pinch, if anyone's got a masterstroke, it's the exile.
"The God of Nature said it too. We're going to war with the greenskins."
The kindly grove fairies smiled. War-smiling prodigies.
Leaf fairies just scratched heads, ears twitching—excited in their way.
Everyone so belligerent. I love peace.
"Communication from domain mages confirms reinforcements led by the lord are en route."
One civil official frowned at leaking intel to a mere exile.
The domain mage captain whispered, grinning, and the frown eased.
"Don't defend to the death assuming it'll fall. Buy time with delaying actions."
"Delaying? Isn't this a siege defense?"
A garrison captain raised his hand.
Face rang a bell—deputy from the gate squad. Did that prickly captain die?
"This 'delay' means be ready to abandon the castle."
Fantasy medieval walls, bolstered by magic, are far taller and thicker.
Troll cavalry can't just brute-force them.
Most trolls and ogres wield tree trunks as "weapons." Fine clubs against flesh, useless on walls.
But the half-named Shock Battalion's elite heavies. All hammering walls and gates with mauls? It'll crumble eventually.
Without the spirit king, holding the castle is brutal.
Even with me, no. I planned to bail anyway.
The mood sobered.
I'd already seen civilians and peasants evacuating outside.
Mercenaries trembled—no sense of duty there.
Regulars too.
No way to hold now. Yield, then retake later.
They knew, but hoped for alternatives.
If I stopped there, I wouldn't have called them.
"Buy us time, and our party will take the fortress. Just hold one day."
Eyes widened all around.
Started the gamble—might as well go all in.
Betting on future me.
Win this, and support comes. Saintess and Trdongt are somewhere on this map too.
Both Stormhowl Brigade originally, right?
Screw it. Ask later—double down!