Assault on the Royal Capital (2)
In the Abilia Kingdom, children decide the path they will take in the year they turn fourteen. They hold a grand coming-of-age ceremony, and before family and friends they speak of the dreams they hold and the futures they mean to build.
Some would take up their father's trade and become carpenters.
Some would bake bread that made people smile.
Some would set out as adventurers on journeys that set their hearts racing.
Under the name of Abilia—where freedom and equality of opportunity were promised—everyone chose a road and walked toward the light it cast.
And the son of an ordinary cook, a boy named Phillips, dreamed of becoming one of the kingdom's splendid knights.
I'll become a knight and protect everyone!
A sturdy, powerful knight who kept everyone safe—that was a truly magnificent and lofty dream. But for a commoner like Phillips, becoming a knight of the kingdom was a long and brutal road.
Unlike the children of noble houses, who needed only to enroll in the Royal Knight Academy and graduate to earn their spurs, the son of a humble cook had to claw his way up from the very bottom.
Join the army as a lowly foot soldier. Somehow climb to the rank of officer. Then achieve some extraordinary feat and receive a knighthood from the royal house itself.
Even at the fastest, that process would take twenty years. It might never happen at all, even if he poured his entire life into it. Opportunity was equal; the starting line was not.
It was a lifelong gamble on a dream.
He could have chosen the comfortable path of following his father into the kitchen. Phillips refused to abandon the challenge of his dream.
Imagining the day he would stand as a magnificent knight protecting the family he loved, at fourteen he enlisted with fierce ambition.
It was not smooth.
Competitors who shared the exact same idea crowded every rung of the ladder, and promotion itself was like plucking stars from the sky. The process was not even as fair as he had hoped.
There were whispers that a fat bribe slipped to the kingdom's Prime Minister, Lilianel Greenfield, could buy a knighthood overnight.
But the second son of a lowly cook's household had no fortune that could ever move a Prime Minister's heart.
The only method left to Phillips was to work, and work, and work again.
I volunteer for the demonkin subjugation.
I volunteer for the monster extermination.
Building a record that outshone everyone else was essential. So Phillips volunteered for front-line deployments again and again, stacking field experience without rest.
The battlefield was savage. The rage and blades of the demonkin aimed at humans were merciless, and the power of the monsters defied description.
Yet every time, Phillips clawed his way back alive. Before long his body had absorbed combat skill and experience no training ground could ever provide.
Ten years passed that way.
Among the soldiers of the royal capital, Phillips had amassed the most experience and become the strongest of them all. His rank, however, had risen a mere three steps.
Fuck!
He had risked his life on the battlefield again and again. Even if knighthood was still out of reach, he had expected to be an officer by now.
But bribes to the Prime Minister and the nobles, and the web of connections around them, blocked his promotion every single time.
At this rate, twenty years—no, thirty—would leave him still a common soldier. And a mere commoner like him had no power to overturn that rotten corruption. What he needed was a feat so overwhelming that neither bribes nor connections could push him aside—something incomparable to anything he had achieved so far.
Th-the Progenitor Vampire is coming to the capital in person!
What?
And in the midst of that frustration, news of the Progenitor Vampire's invasion reached him like another chance.
A monster out of legend…
A thousand-year-old monster aiming for the capital—the same one said to have annihilated Elmaile. If he could distinguish himself against that creature, surely he would finally rise to officer rank.
Of course he never imagined he could take down the Progenitor Vampire itself. A monster that could destroy a city alone was far beyond him.
His target was the skeletons the vampire summoned—the ones raised by the necromancy it was said to favor.
He had fought skeletons during a previous monster purge. They had been pitifully weak. Fragile durability, sluggish movement, limp swings of the sword. He had never seen a monster so feeble among all the creatures he had faced.
Good.
Very little was known about the Progenitor Vampire, and in the chaos no detailed report of how it had fought in Elmaile had arrived. No one yet knew how strong it truly was.
But the skeleton soldiers it would summon—those, Phillips felt certain he could handle in numbers.
The vampire itself would be faced by the Sword Princess, Maiden Alice—close friend of the Hero Belia Grandius and the next commander of the Royal Knights.
With talent called the finest swordsmanship in the kingdom, she would fell even a legendary monster. She herself could level a small city alone, just like the vampire.
All Phillips had to do was cut down as many skeleton soldiers as possible and pile up more merit than anyone else.
Slaughter the skeletons the wicked vampire summoned, and help Maiden Alice bring down the main body without interference.
Already he could picture the glory and the record in his mind.
All right, Phillips. This time you soar.
Cut down as many skeletons as you can, contribute to the next knight commander, and rise as one of the pillars of this victory. You can do it.
Let's go.
Phillips felt certain this was the perfect chance to graduate from a soldier's life.
…There had been a time when he thought that.
H-how… how did it come to this…
Reality was different.
Far, far different.
The skeletons Phillips had pictured were frail, rattling things. The ones now sweeping the battlefield wore armor and weapons better than the soldiers' own.
They looked less like skeleton "soldiers" and more like knights.
Gyaaaaaaah!!
S-save meee!!
"Huh…?"
And they were strong.
Despite being low-tier monsters at their core, they were overwhelmingly, incomparably strong. Even the systematically trained elite troops were being cut down like autumn leaves before their blades.
Clatter.
"U-uaaagh!!"
In the third fortress, now a savage battlefield, Phillips ducked just in time to avoid a skeleton's sword sweeping for his head.
"F-fuck!"
No matter how many times he thought it, the speed was insane—nothing like a monster should move.
What kind of being was that vampire, to summon tens of thousands of creatures that each looked close to S-rank?
The sheer magical power required to field an army of this scale already shattered Phillips' common sense.
Minister Mijael had warned them with deadly seriousness not to underestimate the vampire; he had thought it needless worry. It was not. Her words had been right a thousand times over.
Instinct told him the vampire was a being of an entirely different caliber from anything of this age.
"D-die, you monster bastard!!"
But once battle had begun there was no running. Having dodged the skeleton's blade, Phillips forced courage into his limbs and thrust his pointed spear. It was a precise strike aimed at the core nestled in the monster's chest.
Clatter.
"W-what…!!"
The creature swung its sword at a speed the eye could not follow and sheared the spear shaft clean through. Phillips' sharp weapon was now nothing more than a stick.
Clatter.
"Damn it, too late…!!"
In the next instant it closed into his guard, ready to drive the blade into his gut. There was no time to react, no chance to dodge or block. Phillips knew death stood before him.
"Ugh!"
Imagining the pain to come, he squeezed his eyes shut. What did it feel like to have a sword through the heart? Was this how he would go—so emptily? Without ever even brushing the hem of knighthood?
"Dieeeeee!"
Clatter!
But instead of pain, new sounds reached Phillips' closed eyes: a powerful woman's battle cry, the whistle of a sword, and the fierce spark of steel on steel.
"…"
When he cracked his eyes open, a beautiful blonde knightess was locked in a contest of strength with the skeleton that had been about to kill him.
…The Sword Princess, Maiden Alice.
"U-uaaaaaah!!"
Clatter.
Alice poured every last ounce of strength into shoving the skeleton back. Phillips could not believe what he was seeing.
I-impossible—Lady Alice is evenly matched with a mere skeleton?!
Maiden Alice was a companion of the Hero and had been confirmed stronger than any S-rank adventurer. She was the one who should have been facing the Progenitor Vampire itself—yet here she was, locked in a struggle whose outcome was far from certain against the skeleton right in front of him.
Fuck, what is this, what the hell is this!
That a mere foot soldier of the vampire could match their strongest fighter twisted Phillips' thoughts once more. At the same time, an indescribable fear settled in a corner of his heart.
…Then how strong was the legendary vampire that had summoned them?
"H-hey, are you all right?"
Having appeared at a miraculous moment and barely forced the skeleton away to save his life, Alice asked. Phillips nodded with a stiff face.
"Y-yes, I'm… fine…"
"Good. That's enough, then."
Alice nodded back at him.
"Damn it…"
She wiped the sweat streaming down her face and surveyed the battlefield. Red blood sprayed; horrific screams dyed the night sky. Soldiers of Abilia were dying on every side.
There's no answer.
Nothing had gone as expected. She had never thought it would be easy, but she had never imagined they would be overwhelmed this completely.
The skeletons were simply too strong.
Every plan has fallen apart…
…The first button had been fastened wrong from the start.
They had anticipated that the vampire would summon a skeleton army with necromancy. That was why she had led the cavalry—to crush those fragile undead in a single charge. Who could have guessed the enemy would field cavalry of its own?
Skeletons riding phantom horses… I've never even heard of such a thing.
Skeletons this strong—strong enough that they felt like S-rank adventurers—she had never seen in her life. Skeleton knights on horseback belonged only in fairy tales.
Yet the Progenitor Vampire handled all of it with casual, effortless ease.
…We're finished.
If this continued, total annihilation awaited.
Even elite troops were only B-rank at best by adventurer standards. In close combat they could never defeat these skeleton soldiers.
To wipe the skeletons out at once would require either a massive explosion that engulfed them all, or the death of the vampire who was the source of the summoning. The former risked sweeping up their own forces; the latter was unreachable—the vampire stood in the rear—and Alice was no longer certain she could even defeat that girl.
They needed another method, and quickly.
"…We retreat."
In the end Alice murmured the words toward Phillips. At the word "retreat," his eyes went wide.
"R-retreat, my lady?"
"Yes. At this rate we'll be wiped out. We change the plan to a defensive stand at the second wall."
Fortunately the enemy showed no siege weapons and no mage corps. And since the vampire's foundation was necromancy, it would not be able to unleash high-powered magic either.
"We hold the walls and let the mages and archers annihilate them from above."
…Whether it would work was uncertain, but it had to be better than this hellish melee. The fact that the enemy showed no weapons capable of breaching the thick second wall was also a blessing.
All that remained was to dig in and hold.
Alice shouted until her throat tore, her voice carrying to every soldier.
"All forces! Retreat to the second wall!!"
"Oh."
A sudden, urgent change swept through the enemy's movements. The soldiers who had been tangled with my skeleton troops abruptly formed ranks and began a hurried retreat behind the walls.
Pour on the magic and arrows! Cover them until every last soldier is inside!
Blow them all away with fire magic so they can't even get close!
"…"
The mages and archers stationed atop the walls unleashed everything they had, desperately trying to keep the skeleton soldiers from approaching.
The ground beneath our feet shattered; fireballs streaked like missiles from every direction. Even my skeleton soldiers could not simply ignore that barrage and climb the walls.
Close the gates!
Hurry! Faster!
In less than two minutes the great majority of the enemy had succeeded in fleeing inside the walls. A few soldiers remained stranded outside, but the defenders clearly had no time left to save them.
Clatter-clatter.
A hundred thousand skeleton soldiers surrounded the walls like a swarm of ants. Without archers or mages of their own, all they could do was look up at the battlements and rattle their bones.
"…"
When I approached from the rear, the skeletons encircling the wall parted to either side like the miracle of Moses, opening a path for me.
I, too, looked up at the towering, solid wall.
"A siege defense, is it…"
…So they had realized a frontal clash held no hope of victory and changed their plan to a defensive stand. It was not a bad idea, to be fair.
None of the skeletons I had summoned were archers or mages, and I had not even brought siege weapons to crack the gates.
They meant to hold the gates firmly shut and rain down magic and arrows we could not answer, grinding us down from safety.
…
Atop the central wall, the knightess who had named herself Maiden Alice looked down at us. She watched me as I simply scanned the fortifications with idle eyes, her expression full of contempt.
…So, what will you do now, vampire?
"…"
For a moment her lips seemed to form those very words. Seeing the enemies who had scurried into the walls like rats suddenly regain their swagger, a sigh slipped from my mouth.
"Haa…"
Their confidence was understandable, I supposed.
No siege weapons, no mage corps, and a necromancer like me clearly could not blast the walls apart with magic. Thin spears and swords would never break stone and iron gates. In their eyes we must have looked utterly helpless.
They believed that if they simply pecked at us from the walls long enough, victory would be theirs.
But siege weapons could be made whenever I wished.
"What a bother…"
I had no desire to drag this out any longer, and I was tired of playing along with opponents beneath my level. Picturing a single scene in my mind, I issued a command to the skeletons.
"…Kill them all."
Clatter.
The skeletons ringing the walls began to thrash like mad. As if overloaded, they swayed in waves, then started forming a single shape.
The first rank of skeletons dropped to all fours where they stood.
The second rank climbed onto their backs and dropped into the same position.
The third rank climbed onto those and dropped as well.
Then the fourth rank scaled the living ladder they had made.
Like a ladder.
Like a siege engine.
Clatter-clatter.
"…"
To carry out my order—climb the walls and kill the enemy—the skeletons trampled one another, building mountains of bone and swarming up the fortifications.
In the original game, Tower of Avalon, I could only give them crude commands like mindless charges or simple attacks. Now that it had become reality, I could issue all manner of orders with nothing more than a thought.
…They became footholds for one another and climbed the walls.
Things the living—humans—could never do.
Things only the dead, who felt no pain and offered me nothing but loyalty, could accomplish.
W-what?!
They're intertwining themselves to make ladders?!
Th-that's disgusting…
The faces of the enemies on the walls hardened at the sight. It was a landscape they had never imagined while they lounged in safety.
D-damn it! Do not let a single enemy set foot on these walls!
Sweep them away with fire magic!
The defenders frantically hurled spells, trying to collapse the bone ladders. I had no intention of allowing that.
"…Alfred?"
"As you command, my lady."
At my call the elderly butler stepped forward and unfolded his magic.
"…Barrier."
…?
W-what—the attacks are bouncing off?!
Fuck! What is this barrier?!
…Alfred raised a barrier that wrapped the climbing skeletons, and every magical attack the enemy launched rebounded without leaving so much as a scratch.
The skeleton soldiers scaled the walls at terrifying speed.
There would be no second chance to attack.
Before long even the walls they had thought so safe were blanketed in pure white bone.
All forces, draw steel!
D-drive them off the walls somehow!
They had fled close combat only to find the same fierce struggle of blades erupting once more atop the battlements. Watching the screams and dust swirl above the walls, I called for Tina this time.
"Tina."
"Yes, Master!"
"…Smash the gate."
"…Understood."
I had no desire to stand around waiting for the skeletons to open the gates for me.
At my order to punch through that thick iron gate, Tina sheathed her greatsword, then shot toward the gate at a terrifying speed.
"Hup!"
She leapt high into the air, gathered power through her entire body, and drove her fist forward in a brutal sequence—hips, shoulder, arm.
Clang!
Tina's slender fist met the gate, and a massive metallic peal like a great bell filled the night sky.
"Huu…"
As Tina landed with a soft sigh, the enormous gate that had seemed immovable toppled backward with a thunderous crash, utterly powerless.
…One punch, and the gate had simply collapsed.
Nothing remained to bar entry into the capital.
"…"
I stretched out a hand and pointed into the darkness beyond the ruined gate. The skeleton soldiers ignited their crimson eyes and poured into the city at a terrifying pace.
Th-the gate has fallen!!
A soldier's scream rang out from the walls. But those still scrambling to hold the battlements against the skeletons that had already climbed them had no time left to retake the gate or raise barricades.
Kieeeeeeeek!!
Kyaaaaaaaah!!
A thousand years later.
On this day, the royal capital was blanketed by the dead.
"…"
Toward the city that would now become a city of the undead, I slowly set my foot forward.