The Pale Rider's Miscalculation
In the world of dungeons, it is standard procedure for monsters to launch an offensive only when humans attempt to invade. Adventurers storm in to destroy the dungeon, and the monsters, following the dungeon master's orders, risk their lives to defend their home. The only time monsters take the offensive is during a territorial struggle between dungeon masters. It is an unwritten rule: one side attacks, and the other defends. But this situation was unprecedented.
Furcas, the master of the 50th-ranked Solomon Dungeon and the leader of the 'Pale Rider' unit of the Halpas Legion, felt a strange sense of vertigo as he charged. Looking at the state of the opposing camp, he couldn't help but wonder if he had stumbled into the wrong place.
"What is this?"
His subordinates, the Pale Riders, were already rushing toward the enemy line, their scythes raised to reap souls. The enemies in the camp were nothing but human adventurers clad in leather armor. There was one elf among them, but that wasn't a significant issue. It wasn't as if elves who left their forests to adventure were unheard of; a single elf among fifty human adventurers was hardly a problem. However, if these people were the entities occupying a 'Dungeon of Territorial Struggle,' then a massive problem had occurred.
Furcas had to make a quick judgment regarding the situation he had been handed. He had sent his relatively strong slave soldiers in the vanguard, but there had been no news of victory. Thus, as the lowest-ranked dungeon master among the legion's executives, he had led his subordinates to the 63rd dungeon himself. He had come to kill the enemy's monsters, yet there were no monsters—only human adventurers.
'Did Andras get captured by these adventurers?'
If Andras had been captured by humans the moment the struggle began, the situation would be incredibly simple. He would beat the humans, rescue Andras, and present her to Halpas; Furcas might even be granted a name in the 40s rank.
'And besides, the enemy is just human.'
Killing humans. It was an instinct etched into the bones of monsters, and his Pale Riders were essentially grim reapers who delivered such deaths.
'I'll wipe them out in one go.'
Unless a hero wielding a holy sword popped out, no human could stop the charge of the Pale Riders.
Kieeeeeee—!!
The moment the lead Pale Rider raised his scythe to swing it down, two figures burst out from the midst of the humans. One was a 2-meter giant in dented full-plate armor, and the other was—
"An Orc?!"
A pot-bellied orc wearing a brown robe jumped out, wielding twin axes, and collided head-on with the Pale Rider unit.
"Why is an orc coming out of there?"
An orc emerging from the ranks of humans? Could it be that rumored 'farmed' slave orc? Just as Furcas was shuddering at the cruelty of the humans—
"""LASSSSSS!!"""
With an unidentified war cry, the orc and the giant blocked the Pale Riders' charge with their own bodies. The pale horses ridden by the black-robed reapers slammed their heads directly into the orc and the giant.
"Uwoooooh!!"
Kwang!!
The two massive figures blocked the cavalry's advance with sheer force. The orc and the giant, who had stupidly blocked a full-speed cavalry charge with their bodies, became barricades themselves, halting the Pale Riders.
Hiiihing!!
"Are they insane?!"
They had stopped it. Though their bodies were pushed back slightly, they had countered the momentum of the charging cavalry with pure strength. And the two didn't stop there.
"LASS!!"
With another unidentified shout, the orc, whose red facial tattoos were flashing, swung the axe in his right hand and sliced the horse's neck clean off.
Pwoooooot!!
A fountain of blue blood erupted from the clean-cut cross-section, and the orc, drenched in the gore, swung his other axe.
Ka-ang!
The Pale Rider's scythe clashed with the orc's axe. With a chilling metallic screech, sparks flew, and the Pale Rider recovered his scythe, swinging it horizontally. It was meant to bisect the orc's torso.
Swoosh!
The Pale Rider's scythe sliced through the robe. But for some reason, it didn't cut the waist. The orc grinned and reached out toward the Pale Rider.
"Spine-breaker!!"
Swoosh!
The orc swung his axe and severed the Pale Rider's spine. Both had intended to bisect the other, but only the orc had managed to cut the Pale Rider in half horizontally.
Puh-uhk!
The giant in full-plate armor next to him also grabbed the Pale Rider's pelvis and ripped out his spine. Beneath the gauntlet severed by the scythe, a thin, black, sleeve-like object was visible.
"Damn it! Rear units, evade left and right, advance!"
Seeing his lead riders taken out in an instant, Furcas shouted at the top of his lungs, scattering his subordinates. Because the orc and the giant were blocking the center, the following Pale Riders had to turn their horses left and right. And they had to take the humans' concentrated fire with their bodies.
"Fire, at will!"
Pabababak!
Bolts and arrows rained down mercilessly, engulfing the Pale Riders. The humans were cunning; they focused their fire on the horses the Pale Riders were mounted on, causing them to collapse to the ground.
Hiiihing!!
The horses, which already looked like living corpses, were turned into honeycombs by the arrows and plummeted to the ground. The riders on top didn't fare well, either.
"Uwoooooh!!"
The orc used his brute strength, and the giant used his freakishly long arms to grab the riders as they tried to fall off their horses, slamming them into the ground. The rider caught by the orc had his bones crushed and fell limply, but the rider caught by the giant swung his scythe, smashing the giant's helmet.
Swooooosh!!
The helmet was sliced diagonally. Furcas felt a slight satisfaction at having killed one so quickly. Now, if he could just kill them one by one—
"A ghoul?"
Grrrr!
The giant, whose head had been sliced open enough to reveal a cross-section, was a ghoul wearing armor. The sight made Furcas lose his mind slightly. An orc and a ghoul standing in front of humans as shield-bearers, while the humans behind them, along with an elf, provided aimed fire to ensure they didn't get hit?
"Am I really attacking a territorial struggle...?"
Either the group of adventurers had enslaved an orc and a ghoul, or the master of the enemy dungeon was a pervert who used humans as his primary force. Either way, he needed time to sort out his thoughts.
"Retreat!"
Following Furcas's command, the Pale Riders turned their horses and began to retreat.
* * *
"Pale Riders? Those are ★★★-grade skeletons. Wow, that's insane. Then that bastard Furcas has joined Halpas."
Gremory was dumbfounded by the information relayed by Shaitan. While dungeon masters generally knew of each other, Furcas wasn't the type to serve under someone and stand on the front lines. There had to be a reason. Just as Pahuu and Shaitan were making the same assumption, Gremory was also convinced.
"The enemy is a legion."
This was effectively the first battle against another legion. While Amy had opened a portal for her, Halpas had opened a portal directly into Pahuu's dungeon.
'The offensive will continue for three days, followed by one day of rest. And after that, they'll fight until one side dies.'
Could the Legion of Wrath really overcome Halpas's legion? Gremory felt anxious because she knew the enemy's strength, but she didn't think they would lose.
'Surviving is winning.'
Pahuu might even give up the dungeon master position if it meant saving his subordinates. Even though that would never happen, Gremory could steady her heart because she believed he was a being with that level of integrity.
"Hehe, if he comes back after getting his house robbed, I'll have to take him in. Hehehe."
"What exactly do you mean by 'take him in'?"
"I mean I'll catch the tears flowing down his cheeks. You've done well, kid. Every time I see you, you look nothing like your dad, mom, or grandfather."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Of course."
Galahad, the paladin in a suit, arrived as reinforcements, trampling a burning snake that was flopping on the ground. Gremory felt dizzy at the lingering scent of holy power shimmering on his shoes. This battle—it was her victory.
"We need to finish this quickly and support the main base."
"Didn't the main base send the adventurers to support us?"
"That's not enough. If it's the Pale Riders, they're at least 3 to 4 stars by default."
Gremory briefly mentioned the characteristics of undead monsters. Up to 2 stars, they were ordinary and looked similar, but from 3 stars on, the characteristics of their individual species would emerge.
"A horse and a skeleton are a set. Have you ever seen a black skeleton? Halpas is a perverted bastard who makes his subordinates paint themselves in his signature color, black. He selected and bred them until a black specimen appeared."
"Then, is the reason he says he's in heat for Andras because Andras is black?"
"No. He raped the one who used to be a harpy and planted his seed inside her. He even cast a curse. So that no matter whose sperm she received, she could only give birth to his seed. ...Though the Legion Commander personally screwed Halpas over by killing Andras! Hahaha."
"......Andras-nim, so the current Andras-nim wouldn't be in danger, would she?"
Galahad couldn't help but worry. But Gremory just smirked, tidying her disheveled hair.
"Not at all. Do you think Halpas just wanted the old Andras? She was his half-sister. Everyone kept it quiet, but..."
"......That is a being I cannot understand."
"Right? Everyone cursed him as a horny bird-bastard. ...Thanks to that, our legion is suffering massive damage right now."
Thanks to Andras's dungeon, Pahuu's legion had been able to grow rapidly, but every action always had a counter-effect. The Legion of Wrath had gained massive benefits through Andras, but in exchange, they had to endure Halpas's unilateral declaration of a surprise attack for three days.
"It's going to be a long war. If the humans happen to raid Las Vegas, a situation might arise where we have to give up one place or another. So we have to finish this place as quickly as possible. Galahad, if you see that bastard Amy, kill her immediately."
"......Gremory-nim. I have a trick up my sleeve."
Galahad smiled fiercely, scattering holy power onto his drawn sword. "We don't... necessarily have to kill Amy, do we?"
"......."
Gremory's expression stiffened.
* * *
Clack, clack.
In a factory without a single ray of light, a loom was clattering away. An old man with white hair was drawing out thread, relying entirely on the moonlight for his vision.
"......Finally."
The old man let out a deep sigh as he looked at the black silk. Sweat was streaming down his body, and dark circles were heavy under his eyes, but his face was full of a smile.
"Elder!"
The factory door burst open, and a woman strode toward the old man.
"What is it?"
"The orcs have all left! There are fewer than ten orc guards left!"
The woman spread her arms in joy. "Now we can escape too! Tonight is our chance!"
"......."
Those who hadn't been able to escape Zabyaba and had given up on leaving. They had lived under the protection of orcs and all sorts of monsters, but some of them had been plotting to run away.
"We won't have to watch humans and monsters fucking while we walk by anymore! Elder, tonight is our only chance!"
"I am not going."
"Elder!!"
"If you want to go, you and your group leave. I have become a body that can no longer leave this place."
The old man, the guild leader, lit a candle. A red flame began to burn, illuminating the surroundings, and all sorts of blueprints were spread out on the floor around him. The woman picked up one of the blueprints and shouted.
"What does this matter!"
"It matters to me. I have dedicated my entire 40 years of life to making fabric. The skills I have honed over those 40 years were all for this day."
"Elder!!"
"Why couldn't I have thought of such clothes? Child, I have touched a taboo. Now I can no longer escape the forbidden knowledge he, that orc, gives me."
The guild leader picked up a piece of parchment carefully placed on the floor. The drawing, which the orc had made using a quill, was a sketch of black clothing that clung tightly to a human body.
"Look at this. How could I leave this behind?"
"What on earth is this, what is this thing!"
"Ah."
The old man picked up the blueprint with a face full of madness.
"This is what they call a 'school swimsuit'."