Chapter 81
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Four Overlords
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The roar of the battlefield echoed from all directions. Soldiers bleeding, soldiers wielding swords, those holding bows and staves—everyone, without exception, was screaming.
“Charge! One of the enemy Overlords is still busy regenerating! We have three generals! Now is our chance! Push them back! Risk your lives! Seize your survival!”
Even the officers watching the battle from the rear drew their sidearms and charged to the front lines. It wasn't only the soldiers in steel armor at the vanguard whose blood was boiling.
An officer, who would not have been blamed for simply giving orders from the rearmost line, unhesitatingly threw himself into the very front. At this sight, the soldiers' morale soared even higher. Everyone standing here, regardless of rank or race, was an outstanding hero gathered to protect the people of the continent.
“Tsk.”
Bel clicked his tongue as he watched a second lieutenant charge into battle with a thin self-defense sword. There was no tactic more effective for raising soldiers’ morale than a commander leading from the front, but… Bel, an efficiency-minded man, was not entirely pleased with the situation.
Flowers of blood bloomed on the overly heated battlefield. Red and green petals blossomed alternately in each other's formations.
Swept up in the heat of battle, the soldiers were gradually turning into madmen. The well-organized formations began to crumble due to individual elation and frenzy.
If they get injured fighting on the front lines like that, who will give the orders? His mind was already starved for sugar, and he felt that using his brain cells on anything other than magic was a waste.
“Leave the commanding to me.”
Grisha, momentarily catching the grimace on Bel's face as he watched the battle, spoke quickly.
Bel didn't bother to thank Grisha. He merely sent her a doubtful look, as if to ask, ‘Can you really do it?’ Grisha answered his unspoken question by shouting loudly and taking command of the soldiers.
“Infantry on the right! You’ve strayed too far from the main force! Keep your heads cool! Wounded soldiers, raise your left hand immediately, and I will heal you! Elves of the archery corps, I would appreciate it if you could focus more on additional bombardment rather than sniping the front line!”
Her delicate voice descended upon the madness-stained battlefield. Her voice held an unknown power. Perhaps this was what people commonly called ‘divine power’? The soldiers, who had been on the verge of being consumed by the frenzy of battle and descending into chaos, momentarily regained their composure and began to advance in an orderly formation.
“For Astella!”
One of the soldiers answered the saintess’s command in a booming voice. Saintess Grisha, in turn, shouted back at their roar, “For Astella!”
“…Not bad, I suppose.”
“I’ve learned a thing or two by watching over your shoulder.”
Grisha seemed somewhat relieved that Bel’s brain wouldn't have to be overworked any further.
“Do not falter! The Saintess is with us! Astella is with us!”
The soldiers who heard Grisha’s voice maintained a formation so orderly it was hard to believe they were the same men who had been caught in the ecstasy and madness of battle just moments before. They were now calmly assessing not only the enemy before them but also where their comrades stood and what they needed.
“…Witnessing your reverence, you keep our eyes and hearts more pious than ever, and you cleanse the blood from our bodies. Oh, you are the heralds of Astella…”
It was all thanks to Grisha.
She clasped her hands, closed her eyes, and recited a prayer.
Had Bin seen it, he would have recalled the name ‘Grace of Purification.’ In the game, it was a top-tier skill for removing status ailments.
A skill that could cure not only simple ailments like fear, silence, and dizziness, but also serious injuries such as poisoning, bleeding, and fractures.
A bright halo, rivaling the sunlight, enveloped the saintess's back. Poison that had seeped through armor and broken bones began to heal in an instant.
The process of bones knitting back together tore muscle and sinew, and the purification of poison made their blood boil, but there were no soldiers left on this battlefield who would complain about such pain.
Normally, it was a high-level skill that was difficult to use properly even on a single target, but Grisha was now bestowing the ‘Grace of Purification’ upon everyone on the battlefield without difficulty.
Her skill was worthy of the title ‘Saintess,’ but no one bothered to express their admiration.
After all, it was something they saw every day.
“…You vermin!”
CRASH!
Along with a scream-like roar, a massive explosion once again descended upon the battlefield.
A massive arrowhead was flying toward Bin at a speed exceeding that of sound. And once again, ‘Spirit’s Protection’ activated.
A blue barrier momentarily enveloped the boy’s body, and a sonic boom belatedly crashed over his frail form. His ears were ringing, and his head felt dizzy.
It seemed Ariel, the Overlord who used a giant bow, had almost fully recovered from his injuries.
“…I can't react fast enough to put up a barrier against a snipe at that speed! I'm sorry!”
Grisha shouted in a polite and gentle tone.
…Looks like she's trying to maintain her saintly image since so many people are watching, Bin thought.
Thanks to Grisha’s help, the front line was advancing more steadily. Since they were healed as soon as they were injured, the soldiers could fight with an aggressive posture they would not normally dare to take, allowing the allied forces to unleash three to four times their usual combat power.
“Dammit…”
Raguel, the Overlord boasting enormous wings, had already soared high into the sky, looking down on the battlefield. Bin, looking up at him, could tell that the tide of battle had turned in an instant, even though he wasn't flying in the sky like that monster.
It was all thanks to Bel and Grisha, who had intercepted the enemy's airborne troops without any losses and multiplied the soldiers' combat effectiveness.
“Maltiel, Mikael! Are you just going to stand there and watch!”
The Overlord Raguel, flying in the blue sky, cried out the names of the two Overlords who had yet to appear on the battlefield.
“…Tsk.”
The next moment, Bin heard the sound of a tongue clicking in annoyance from a direction he couldn't pinpoint. It was a chilly, creepy sensation he was already familiar with.
Red skin, pitch-black eyes. Not as large as Raguel's, but still massive wings and hideously long claws.
The Overlord Maltiel appeared over a hill in the deserted lands far away. His leisurely gait was full of confidence, but his expression was laced with irritation.
Simultaneously with Maltiel's appearance, the hardened ground began to shake once more. The Mazoku had hidden so much beneath this damn ground that something was always popping out to startle the allied forces.
They were enormous… insect-like mutants. Among them, a monster resembling a giant centipede was the most conspicuous, and the sight of it using someone’s arms in place of legs made Bin involuntarily retch.
“…Truly, things have gotten this complicated.”
Not far from Maltiel, Mikael now revealed himself on the battlefield.
“I had anticipated that three generals would appear on the front line at once someday. If this fight continues, they’re the ones who will wither and die. They had to throw a bold move like this at least once.”
Maltiel spoke calmly and coolly. It seemed he had expected the continental allied forces to force their morale up for a counterattack at some point.
“Normally, wouldn't it be better to withdraw our troops and not engage with such a last-ditch effort, rather than meeting it head-on?”
Mikael didn't seem too pleased with Maltiel's decision. Playing along with the enemy's desperate struggle was far from the Mazoku's preferred tactics.
“If we pull back our troops, the pressure we’ve been applying will loosen. If the pressure loosens, Bin might escape. We cannot retreat from this battle, even if it means using all the Overlords.”
“…To think that the most rational decision is to play along with such a desperate struggle. Tactics are truly profound.”
After listening to Maltiel, Mikael pondered for a moment before nodding slightly in understanding and muttering to himself.
“If our ultimate goal were to conquer this land, I would have withdrawn our troops in this situation. But that's not our goal, is it?”
Maltiel smirked and slowly turned his head.
At the end of that chilling smile stood Bin.
Bin felt a sharp blade graze the tip of his throat.
He instinctively brought a hand to his slender neck to check if anything was wrong. Rex, who was standing guard right beside him, seemed to have felt the same sensation, as he let out a low sigh and readied his stance.
“…Four Overlords, all visually confirmed.”
As soon as Grisha confirmed that the shadow beyond the hill was Mikael, she relayed the information to Bel.
“Confirmed.”
Bel raised his palm high and whispered a few words of an incantation. A black dot soon gathered on his hand and shot high into the sky.
The black dot soared high, piercing the clear, cloudless sky, and continued to ascend endlessly.
Fwoosh!
Soon, immense heat and scorching air pressed down on the area.
The blue sky, with a momentary flash, was dyed a deep red.
Bin raised his head to find the source of this immense heat and light.
He could see a giant meteor formed from a mass of flames.
‘For the past two weeks, Bel has been the one mostly holding back the Overlords on the front lines. The mana left in his body is probably only about a tenth of his usual amount.’
That alone was enough.
Bel Artois was, unequivocally, the continent's strongest mage.
His vessel for mana was undoubtedly far larger than anyone else's. Even a tenth of his mana would be incomparable to that of an ordinary mage.
That was why Bel Artois was a general.
It was a colossal flame that made that fact palpable.
“…Mikael.”
“I know.”
Watching the giant, flaming meteor that covered the sky, Mikael and Maltiel had a brief conversation.
Soon after, Mikael’s finger pointed at the red meteor falling toward them.
The earth began to tremble.
The chunks of flesh buried in the hard-packed mud rose high into the sky according to Mikael’s will. The mutants lying on the ground dripping green blood, someone’s arms and legs, red and blue blood.
Every ‘corpse’ on the battlefield rose high like a great wave before colliding with the red meteor that was falling to the ground.
A rain of blood and fire poured down from the crimson-black sky.
* * *
The northern front line.
Facing the dry wind, a man in white robes stood on a thick, high fortress wall, gazing silently at the southern sky.
His reddish-brown hair, leather coat, white robes, and the slender longsword at his waist told you who this man was.
As his short, reddish-brown hair danced lightly in the wind, a crimson light reflected in his deep eyes.
As if he had been waiting for this very moment, the man took a throwing dagger from the inner pocket of his coat and held it in his hand.
“Great General?”
A soldier standing guard not far away called out to the man who had suddenly drawn a dagger from his coat.
“Why the dagger all of a sudden…”
CRACK!
With the sound of the wind tearing and the fortress wall shaking, the blade shot forth from the hand of the man in the leather coat.
What followed was a sound one would only hear when a powder magazine exploded. The snow piled on the trees scattered to the ground from the immense impact, and the sleeve of his leather coat turned red from friction with the air.
The dagger flew far beyond where the other soldiers on guard duty could see. Somewhere over the snow-covered horizon.
At the dagger's destination stood a high-ranking Mazoku who had been ordered to ‘monitor the Sword Saint,’ but no one on the fortress wall knew this fact.
“Sergeant! Get all the soldiers on the wall right now, and have every last one of them get down.”
“You want the sentinels to go down from the wall, sir?”
“I need a running start.”
“…Sir?”
The soldiers standing on the frost-covered wall hesitated, their faces filled with confusion.
“You’ll hear the details from the other generals.”
It was an incomprehensible order, but at his added words, the sergeant rushed to relay the man’s command.
The soldiers immediately climbed down the ladders and stairs to the base of the wall. They might question this man's words, but no soldier would ever defy his orders.
He walked slowly to the end of the now-empty wall.
His reddish-brown hair fluttered in the wind.
Like a track athlete preparing to run, he placed both hands on the ground and lifted his heels.
“…Hoo.”
A single deep breath.
The next moment, the ground where the man stood shattered into pieces. The fortress wall swayed as if it had been struck squarely by a giant catapult, and frosted bricks shot high into the air.
He ran straight across the empty top of the wall as if it were a track in a stadium. As the man ran at a speed exceeding that of sound, a powerful sonic boom filled the air.
THOOM!
Reaching the end of the wall, the man kicked off the ground hard once more.
His body shot forward with a massive shockwave. It was a speed incomparable to that of a cannonball or a bullet.
The edge of the wall, unable to withstand the recoil, crumbled and collapsed.