Extraction Shooter: <em>Escape from Sanctuary</em> (6)
“The 2nd Legion annihilated? The 6th Legion's legion commander and chief of staff both killed in action?”
The Iron Blood Emperor's fist trembled with shock at the staggering news.
It had already been five full days since the expedition set out.
It took three straight days to march from the capital to the borders of the Vulcanian Grand Duchy.
Then another day and a half to deploy the troops and set up the temporary command post and barracks.
Which meant the real fighting had only kicked off early this morning.
Emperor Titus had meticulously analyzed the entire Vulcanian front alongside his generals and their staff officers.
What cards he had at his disposal. How to play them effectively. And just how tough it would be to break through each sector.
Naturally, the toughest nut to crack was Poeni Fortress.
A defensive stronghold jutting out to the east of the city.
The west side of the capital, Borneš, was backed by a river connected to a lake, making a breakthrough from that direction all but impossible.
To apply pressure from all sides, they had no choice but to prioritize capturing the fortress.
That was why he'd assigned the 6th Legion—considered the finest in the Central Field Army—and the battle-hardened 4th Legion from the Northern Defense Army.
Yet those famed elite units had been utterly crushed.
They hadn't even captured the fortress. Their siege engines were destroyed one after another as they arrived, their legion commander fell in battle, and in just one day, they'd racked up a devastating record.
And what of the vanguard 2nd Legion?
They'd been ordered to secure the old academy just a few kilometers from Borneš.
Once a cradle of brilliant scholarship, now desecrated by cursed undead wizards.
While two legions hammered at Poeni Fortress, this was to prevent enemy raiders slipping out of the academy from striking the rear.
They might not match the 6th Legion's skill, but as part of the Central Field Army, their average troop quality outshone the Northern Defense Army.
Forewarned by scouts that the demons in the academy included liches and other undead, they'd advanced with a contingent of priests.
The result? Total rout.
Most weren't prepared for urban combat. Ghouls ambushing from blind spots reaped a bloody toll on their ranks, harvesting heads left and right.
Out of 8,400 legionnaires, only about 3,000 withdrew unscathed.
Over 5,000 casualties in a single day.
“Belriat... I knew it wouldn't be an easy foe.”
The Iron Blood Emperor let out a low groan.
But on the flip side, good news poured in from units he hadn't expected much from.
“Your Majesty, the 17th Legion has broken through the forest and reached the lakeside village. Fierce fighting is underway to secure a bridgehead there.”
“Yes, sire. The main force has entered. Engineers are following up, felling trees in the area. Rafts for the troops' river assault will be ready by dawn tomorrow.”
Newly assigned to the Northern Defense Army, short on both manpower and officer experience.
Deemed the weakest on paper, the 17th Legion had brought the first victory report.
The emperor's personal inspector on site reported that a single volley had put down the werewolves.
And the 8th Legion had pulled off equally stunning results.
They'd retaken the old castle—where a balrog's appearance was all but certain, promising a brutal fight—in a mere three hours.
Even as the Central Field Army's next-best after the Imperial Guard, the 8th was a small force of just 5,800, more suited to flanking than main assaults, essentially a pinning force.
Titus couldn't hide his astonishment at the exploits of these two legions. “How on earth did they achieve this?”
“The legions racking up victories have all adopted games as their core training regimen. It was a program proposed directly by Duke Pavel and Commander Cassian.”
“...Games?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Soldiers who used to shudder at the word 'training' ended up pulling all-nighters to play them.”
Legions that played the game won with inferior numbers. Those that didn't were slaughtered.
“The mana rifles too, and now this game—both created by a single mage, I hear. What was his name again?”
“The third son of Count Paltrow's house, Eugene Paltrow. He's currently the head librarian at the Central Magic Library.”
“Arkisiya's disciple, right?”
Titus's eyes flashed with interest for a moment.
“The tide hasn't turned yet, though. We can't let this opportunity slip. No half-measures or retreats! Reinforce Cassian's magic artillery with the 17th Legion, deploy the 'Sword Saint' and the knight order—secure that fortress swiftly!”
“As you command!”
Right now, wrapping up the expedition successfully was paramount.
As for that bizarre 'game' concept...
He'd look into it after returning to the empire.
I scratched at my ears furiously.
A sudden chill had run through me, making my eardrums itch like crazy.
No way a bug crawled in, right?
Riana Ishinkiore sighed deeply at the sight.
“Aren't you worried?”
“About what?”
“The expedition. Chief Investigator Pletta Selwyn says the scout reports show the difficulty's way higher than expedition HQ expected.”
Hmm, yeah, it didn't look easy to me either.
For starters, that vampire lord was calling the shots.
Vulcanian had fallen 800 years ago, and the guy had survived without being purged or dying since.
Worthy of the title Demon Warlord—no matter how hard the emperor threw at him, victory wasn't guaranteed.
Especially for Riana, whose dad—relations warming up lately—had shipped out as cavalry commander. She must be freaking out.
But as the creator of Escape from Sanctuary, I was confident we could at least drive the bastard out of the city, even if we didn't bag him.
“Riana, you haven't checked the logs, have you?”
“No way I could read all that.”
“Eaton Charleston, Jacob, and I went through the standout teams' logs since the day before yesterday. Once they got the hang of it, they were running balrog runs. Even betting on how long it'd take them to down one...”
Honestly, I'd hoped it'd help, but this level of explosive impact? Never dreamed.
I'd played Tarkov myself—it's a game that drives you nuts.
“The high demons scattered around? We can mop 'em up no problem, even without the Demon Warlord.”
Even if Escape from Sanctuary didn't pan out due to variables, there wasn't much we could do. Just twiddle thumbs and wait for battlefield updates.
A few more days passed like that.
Then reports started flooding in from the front.
“Eugene! Sir Eugene! Heard the news? Vulcanian Grand Duchy liberated after 800 years!”
“Huh?”
Michel, always on top of this stuff, waved the newspaper excitedly.
“Two legions lost, but it's the most remarkable result of any expedition so far.”
“They actually drove off the Demon Warlord?!”
The training effects were even crazier than I'd thought.
And that was just the opener.
With Belriat repelled, the expedition troops started pulling back in waves.
What was the expedition's goal again?
Not occupation—purification.
No one dared pioneer lands turned demon territory beyond the border.
Clearing out the vampire lord's hordes of bloodsuckers and demons, while flushing Belriat from his nest? That was exceeding objectives.
Hold the territory? Vulcanian was a death trap—no point bleeding troops to garrison a wasteland with no civilians nearby.
They'd missed the 'king,' sure, but it was enough for the emperor to call it and head home.
“Long live His Imperial Majesty!! Eternal glory to the Empire!!”
The triumphant return parade was as grand as the send-off.
But the moment the Reverse Legion troops got home, it wasn't burying fallen comrades or boasting at victory banquets.
“Head Librarian!! Open up! Your legion's back!!”
“What happened to the cube room at the magic artillery garrison? Let us game! I'm dizzy as hell!!”
Games. Straight to games.
Soldiers and officers alike started complaining of PTSD.
Not from battlefield horrors, but pure dopamine withdrawal.
“The balrogs lasted longer in-game, though. In reality, A barrage of silver bullets took them down.”
They genuinely claimed the game was harder than real life.
Duh? Max 7-10 players in-game; thousands dogpiling in reality. Even a balrog couldn't tank that.
And it wasn't just grunts and junior officers making a fuss. Senior ones too.
“17th Legion Commander Ismael. Thanks to you, we scored big on the field. On behalf of all my legionnaires, my deepest gratitude.”
“...I heard. Not content with punching through the forest day one—you took the lakeside village too.”
“Not me—the blood and sweat of my legion, plus His Majesty's timely support. Anyway, that's not the point—.”
“Pardon?! You want a cube room at the 17th Legion's Northern Defense garrison?”
“That game. It haunted me even on the battlefield. With the expedition wrapping up, we're heading north... The training results were insane. I want to make those cubes standard for the 17th.”
“What, some inside joke? The 8th Legion staff asked the same yesterday.”
“What? Those 8th Legion bastards came? Ho, did they play Escape from Sanctuary too?”
“Y-yeah... A couple hours. Lately, more adventurers and soldiers than mages.”
“Hold on!! Never crossed my mind! Give me 20 minutes—I'll fetch my staff!!”
“Huh?”
“The 2nd Legion commander whined about the academy being brutal. Not sure if he's downplaying our feats or it really was. Can't buy it without experiencing the field myself.”
“R-right?”
“They rejected cube training—how dare they complain? Let me verify. Wait 20 for my elites, and we'll pay in full!!”
The Central Magic Library, once buzzing with mages, now overflowed with soldiers of every rank and legion.
Soon, my master arrived with a gleaming golden scroll. Laurel wreath and lion emblem stamped boldly in the center. Imperial seal.
Eugene Paltrow, Head Librarian of the Central Magic Library,
Present thyself before His Imperial Majesty Titus Solla Bellator.
“Yujin, what was bound to come has arrived.”
The hidden MVP of the expedition's crushing victory: Escape from Sanctuary.
And its developer, me—Eugene Paltrow.
The summons from the empire's supreme ruler, the Iron Blood Emperor himself.