Nomember Castle (1)
In the world where Park Jeong-jae had lived, people dying and crossing over to another world carried a subtle nuance of being extraordinarily common. But in the strictest sense, it was so rare it was practically nonexistent—there had never been a single newspaper or news story about such an event in history, outside of light novels or comics. Even so, Jeong-jae quickly accepted the fact that in this world, there were no shortage of cases where Earthlings reincarnated with special talents.
After all, the moment he died buried under a collapsing bookshelf in the library—oblivious to the fact that the shelves weren't properly secured—his common sense had already shattered. Just when he'd thought he'd meet his end peacefully in a book, he suddenly reincarnated in this isekai world, smack in the middle of a raging war against the Demon King, as a genius mage. It was bewildering and absurd. So, the idea that Earthlings who died and crossed over here often wielded extraordinary talents wasn't that hard to swallow. Provided, of course, he accepted every single event that had already happened without exception.
What choice did he have if he didn't? He couldn't exactly try suicide again in hopes of reincarnating back on Earth. That was far too uncertain. Fortunately, following the unwritten rule that most humans from Earth came with special gifts, Jeong-jae was confirmed to possess innate qualities as a Grand Archmage.
This bold isekai who speedran the three-year Imperial Magic Academy course in just three months was, by unanimous decision of the Imperial Council, assigned to the Hero chosen to stop the Demon King: Walter H. Hellhound. It was the classic "joining the Hero's party." Though by the end of those three months at the academy, Jeong-jae had already learned that life in the Hero's party wasn't all dreams and adventures.
The empire's dire straits were such that they condensed three years of study into three months and handed him a rushed diploma purely because of his talent. The war against the Demon King was labeled the worst Great Demonic War in history, with the front lines collapsing disastrously. Mass conscription had stripped villages of their young men, shattering agricultural foundations everywhere, and even famed generals couldn't find a way out of the quagmire.
In the midst of this, Walter—a descendant of a Hero from centuries ago who had crossed over from another world—received the Holy Sword's blessing and was appointed the next Hero to lead the war. Walter's command was brilliant; while other fronts crumbled, his units almost always emerged victorious. The young Hero dubbed the "Miracle Hellhound" soon assembled the continent's finest talents into a party just for him.
Rose Caprice, the emperor's eldest daughter and the "Iron Wall Knight." Clad in impenetrable heavy armor that no enemy had ever breached, she ranked among the empire's strongest knights in personal prowess and had successfully led several defensive battles. Rose was known to be intimately close to the Hero, and despite her upright demeanor, she was famous for her flexible thinking.
Margaret from the elven kingdom of Eramenia was someone Walter had painstakingly recruited. Even after the alliance treaty between the Audrich Empire and Eramenia, the elves had long harbored reservations about direct collaboration with humans. Unlike her father, who staunchly refused joint operations with the empire, Princess Margaret had always been open to compromise. After conversations with Walter, she acknowledged his qualities and the validity of his arguments, joining his party. She wasn't just an exceptional archer and noble slayer of demons; she symbolized the bond between humans and elves—a critically important figure.
The legendary hunter Bernard Silverpoint had a slightly roguish look, but his skills were beyond doubt: the world's greatest hunter, preying on beasts, humans, and ghosts alike. He joined the group as a bounty hunter hired by the Hero, with the Demon King's head as the obvious target. Bernard grumbled that the party was filled with overly noble types, so he wasn't exactly the ideal paragon of virtue—but he wasn't flawed in character or a slacker who shirked his duties, either. In fact, his noble comrades all agreed he was sharper and more professional than anyone when it came to his missions.
The sole Earthling in this stellar group was Park Jeong-jae, the so-called Grand Archmage. Having assessed his abnormal mana affinity and talent during those three months at the academy, Jeong-jae had half-expected this development. Honestly, there had been moments when he'd fantasized about becoming the overpowered protagonist from a novel, sweeping away enemies with his superior abilities to become a hero. Reality didn't play out that way.
On the day a village was engulfed in flames under Walter H. Hellhound's orders, Jeong-jae began to suspect that the only pink-tinted future he could envision was a diluted mess of blood. That day marked a humiliating defeat: the empire's defensive line finally buckled, handing an entire metropolis—once home to over 30,000 souls—intact to the Demon King's forces.
The Hero's party of five, rushing in from another battlefield, immediately realized upon arrival that holding the city with the remaining troops was impossible. The enemy assault, more like open-field warfare than a siege, had unfolded with lightning speed. The gates lay shattered alongside the walls, and soldiers who had chosen to fight to the end for those still inside were being slaughtered while buying time.
Walter H. Hellhound adjusted his golden monocle with a grim expression and issued orders. "Rose, head to the gates and command the remnants to buy us some time. Remember: buy time, not hold them off. If it looks dangerous, retreat slowly into the city."
"Got it, Walter. I'll do that."
The red-haired knight, Rose Caprice, spurred her horse toward the gates at once. Without hesitation, Walter turned to Margaret and Bernard. "Princess Margaret, please support the civilians inside evacuating through the rear gate. Bernard, hunt the orc packs that have breached the walls—be as careful as you can."
"I'll do my best."
Margaret gripped her bow and arrows and dashed into the city. "Uh, sure. Damn, in this chaos, it's impossible to tell goblin from human."
Walter frowned at Bernard's grumbling, issuing a stern warning. "That doesn't mean you can slack on distinguishing the innocent, Bernard. There are no humans among today's prey."
"Ah, I know. I was just complaining about how tough it'll be. No need to scare me like that."
Fearing further interrogation, Bernard followed Margaret into the city. The Hero himself, Walter H. Hellhound, simply raised his Holy Sword to guard the rear gate without further action. The silver lining—if it could be called that—was that the enemy's blitzkrieg "siege" had breached the gates before fully encircling the castle, allowing the party to secure a minimal evacuation route through the rear.
Even standing idle, Walter's presence reassured the fleeing residents and guaranteed their minimal safety. The chaos inside was evident. Rose was surely holding the walls admirably, but even the Iron Wall Princess couldn't stop every enemy from slipping past. Margaret had climbed a spire inside, sniping goblins at a mad pace—one arrow every three seconds. Jeong-jae watched as she descended to retrieve spent arrows, then spoke to Walter. "Should I head inside for support? Things look rough in there."
"Stay put. I have a crucial task for you. Conserve your strength."
Walter was a handsome man with flowing white hair and a tall, elegant build straight out of fantasy—but lately, his frequent frowns diminished his charm. Today, too, he leaned against the wall, grimacing as if deeply uncomfortable. Jeong-jae knew that furrowed brow and monocle adjustment meant Walter was genuinely troubled.
"No one will get hurt, right? Since... you gave the orders."
Walter bit his lip, evading the question. Jeong-jae felt a pang of unease. He craned his neck to peer inside, but from here, all he could see was the towering defensive spire beyond the walls. The elf princess, who had descended earlier for arrows, was now climbing back up, stabbing arrows into brick gaps like pitons. The enemy must have destroyed the stairs in fear of her arrow barrages from atop.
Undeterred, Margaret hauled herself up with superhuman endurance no ordinary human could match and resumed raining arrows downward. "Retreat! Fall back! Pull to the spire and hold with tower support!"
Even amid the screams and clamor, Rose Caprice's commands rang clear from just inside the gates. It seemed she'd abandoned blocking the entrance outright, falling back to buy more time with Margaret's aerial support. Meanwhile, the wide-open rear gate continued vomiting refugees by the dozens, hundreds, thousands.
Jeong-jae watched bitterly, lips pressed tight, as people fled in panic. Few had salvaged their possessions. Some clutched large bags dearly; others tripped hauling furniture, causing pileups; some realized mid-flight they'd lost family and tried turning back, only to be swept away by the crowd.
Jeong-jae closed his eyes and turned away from the hellscape. Walter gripped his shoulder. "Open your eyes, man."
"Huh? Oh, I'm not sleeping. Just for a second..."
"I know you're not asleep. Just open them. Among the sights you need to witness, there'll be far more destructive and horrific scenes than this. So keep your eyes wide open and watch closely."
Reluctantly, Jeong-jae obeyed, but he couldn't bear watching the refugees. Instead, he turned to Margaret battling atop the spire. The situation had worsened; now she drew her sword, shoving back goblins clambering up from all sides—not one direction, but four at once, slithering up bare-handed. Dozens more swarmed disgustingly toward the top.
Sword in hand, bow slung on her back, she slashed a few before realizing she couldn't hold. She leaped down, stabbing and stomping goblins below to clear her landing. The fact that enemies now assaulted even that previously safe spire meant they'd nearly finished ravaging the city interior.
Fewer people emerged from the gates; armored soldiers began fleeing outward like the rest. These were warriors who had proven their bravery by holding inside until now. Their exit wasn't from cowardice—the enemy had pushed right up to the rear gate.
The intensifying melee sounds swept the rear gate area for about thirty minutes before Bernard, Rose, and Margaret emerged in that order. Only around fifty Audrich Empire soldiers had escaped with them.
"You held with this many? You all did amazingly well."
Walter addressed the three and the survivors. The soldiers, too dazed to salute even the Hero—who was practically the imperial commander-in-chief—were ignored by Walter. He now focused on the evacuated civilians.
"How many are there, Bernard?"
"Looks like about eight thousand made it out."
Bernard, with his hunter's sharp instincts, had a knack for headcounts. Walter sighed and nodded. "Any more coming?"
"Probably, but if we have to decide now, it's unavoidable."
Rose Caprice wiped sweat from her face with a gauntlet, exhaustion plain but no visible wounds marring her Iron Wall reputation. Of course, that didn't mean she'd held back; Jeong-jae was shocked to spot a faint red scratch on her cheek—few weapons or beings could mark Rose Caprice.
In contrast, Margaret—her leather armor torn and bloodied, enemy gore coating her from head to toe—looked utterly battered.
"Decide what?"
"Margaret, Bernard, lead the remnants and get these people as far away as possible. There's a village seventeen kilometers south—march them there and let them rest. Rose, close the gates."
Walter commanded. Margaret's face twisted in shock, but she bowed and rushed to the scattered refugees with Bernard. Jeong-jae, guessing her dismay, spoke up for her. "But there might still be people coming out. Can't we wait a bit longer?"
"Wait longer, and we'll face goblins outside instead of humans, Jeong-jae. I get how you feel, but we have to save everyone who trusted us and made it this far. Every single one, without exception."
It was such irrefutable logic that Jeong-jae was left speechless.