The Nightmare of Orsia Hill
Orsia Hill. It was not a particularly strategic location, nor was it under the direct rule of the Demon King's army. There was merely a nameless little village nestled beyond the hill. Even so, there was only one reason we sought out that region: to escape, even slightly, the influence of the teleportation-disrupting spires that Denatel and his elite forces had installed.
Under normal circumstances, we would have chosen to destroy the spires despite the time it would take, for the sake of the future. But at that moment, we had received word that Raiven, Zeca, and Anubkut were each leading large armies to invade the mages' city of Afros, the allied forces' frontline fortress of Negatum, and Ruda Casia.
All three locations were of the utmost importance to the allied forces—places that had until now successfully repelled the Demon King's assaults. This time, however, it was a full-scale invasion with even Demon Commanders personally taking the field.
Without the help of Rowell and our other companions, those places would surely fall. In the end, we decided to split into three teams and head out to support each location. Master Medrup hurriedly prepared long-distance teleportation circles leading to each site.
Yet a frontline unit that had noticed our movements was pursuing us toward Orsia Hill. We were not yet completely outside the spires' influence, and to make matters worse, they carried linking devices that extended the spires' range and effect.
The attacks on each location may already have begun. If we were caught within that influence, even if we repelled the pursuers swiftly, we would never reach the battlefields in time.
Of course, that was not the real problem. We still had enough time to complete the three circles before the pursuing force arrived. The issue was that the enemies who would reach this place after we departed would never leave the village untouched.
Even the Yellow Sage, Master Medrup, could only create teleportation circles with limited capacity and activations when working under the spires' influence and pressed for time. The circles would expend their power simply transporting us to each location; evacuating the villagers was out of the question.
In the end, Bagloros and I decided to remain at Orsia Hill. We would repel the pursuing force and then rejoin the main battle. If repelling the enemy were the only concern, Bagloros could have stayed alone, but to activate the circles, either Rowell, Master Medrup, or I had to remain—and that was impossible given our forces.
Master Medrup and Lauti headed for Ruda Casia to face Anubkut and his insect legion, Orcan and Aegina went to Afros to confront Raiven and his beast legion, and Rowell would hold Negatum Fortress against Zeca and his royal guard until we arrived. They departed first through the teleportation circles. After Rowell left and only the two of us remained, I spoke to Bagloros.
'Bagloros. You go ahead as well.'
It was a conclusion I had reached after considerable thought. Even Rowell could not fight Zeca and his royal guard alone. The fortress's remaining troops were already overwhelmed simply holding back the flood of Demon King's forces.
No matter how quickly we repelled the pursuers, leaving Rowell to fight alone on a battlefield that might already be engaged was too dangerous.
Bagloros silently shook his head. There was a reason our companions had left both of us behind. Even in that urgent situation, they had kept one of our greatest assets, Bagloros, here because they were worried about me. Both they and I knew full well that facing the pursuing force alone would be difficult for me.
Yet I persuaded him. In this war, Rowell's existence mattered far more than mine or this village. Protecting him meant protecting what little hope remained, and nothing was more important than that.
Bagloros finally stepped onto the teleportation circle. I channeled mana to activate it. The circle emitted an unsteady light and sent him to Negatum Fortress. With that, the circle, like the others, exhausted its power.
It was as expected. Though Master Medrup had taken extra care with this one, two uses were still the limit. Now I was alone on Orsia Hill, and with the circles gone, I could no longer reach my companions.
Of course, I could have fled on a summoned beast at full speed, but if that had been my intention, there would have been no need to stay in the first place.
“After being left alone, Lord Anak gathered the villagers. Fighting the pursuers alone was impossible. Yet what Lord Anak sought was not young men who could fight, but the elderly who could barely move and the sick who could not even stand.”
I went to the village. Rowell and Aegina had already informed them of the pursuing force, and given the geography and time, escape on foot was nearly impossible. The villagers had resigned themselves to their fate and gathered around the village hall, praying to the great gods.
Some prayers begged for salvation, but most were simply prayers for the peace that would soon come. I walked toward them and spoke.
'Those willing to die to save the village and the others, step forward.'
It was not a request to fight. I wanted people who would literally die.
'Abandon any hope of survival. Those who step forward now will all die. But if we succeed, the village can be saved.'
They did not understand. Yet one by one, the elderly and the infirm stepped forward, and a few courageous youths rose as well.
I sent the youths back. Not for their sake, but for my own peace of mind.
In the end, dozens of elderly and sick stood before me, and we headed for Orsia Hill. Some villagers who worried for their family or friends, along with the youths I had rejected, followed us carrying farming tools and old swords, but I knew their turn would never come.
We climbed the hill. I inscribed summoning circles onto each of their bodies. Some screamed endlessly from the pain, but I did not stop. Finally, the pursuing force arrived.
Fortunately, there were no aerial troops, as most wyvern units had already been eliminated, but it was still a large force numbering in the hundreds. The soldiers in perfect formation, their armor gleaming, and the fierce, massive beasts interspersed among them were overwhelming. It seemed they could sweep us away with ease.
'Great gods, guide our souls.'
Someone's prayer echoed through the silence, and I activated the summoning spell.
“It was Sacrificial Summoning.”
“……!”
At my words, his beautiful face was instantly filled with shock. Yes, Sacrificial Summoning. It was one of the darkest spells among the legacies from the era when summoners were called Dark Priests.
By using life and flesh itself as a conduit, it could summon powerful entities beyond one's own ability. By synchronizing the victim's soul with the summoned entity's, it allowed control of the summon without a contract—albeit temporarily.
However, it was possible only through humans or higher beings, and every subject lost their life without exception. Even in the past, only the most vicious Dark Priests had chosen to use this forbidden spell.
The spell activated. The circles inscribed on their bodies glowed blood-red, and agonized screams and pained moans echoed across the entire hill. Using their bodies as conduits, powerful summoned beings from various realms manifested.
Immense pain consumed their bodies and minds, yet death was not granted to those chosen as sacrifices. Their souls were fused with the summoned entities, so they could not die until the summoning ended.
“As you know, the battle ended in the Demon King's army's defeat. However, not only the enemies but also the subjects of the spell met their deaths in agony. And the one who orchestrated all those deaths was none other than Lord Anak. Those who witnessed it found themselves saying, without realizing it: Anak, that summoner who calls forth death, is the Nightmare of Orsia Hill.”
Some cursed me. Some blamed me. Their accusations were, at least from their perspective, justified. If we had not come, the pursuing force would not have followed. Yet most of the villagers understood my choice and expressed their gratitude. Of course, they had remained in the village hall and had not witnessed the scene themselves.
“Now then, Deceiver Summoner, Second-Best Strategist, Nightmare of Orsia Hill. Tell me. How did you feel at that moment? When so many begged for death in agony, when you ignored their souls and pleas while controlling the summoned beings. And when you looked upon the corpses whose traces had nearly vanished due to the spell's backlash? When enemies, victims, and even the summoned beings—countless lives—died because of you, yet you descended from the battlefield without a single wound, how did you feel?”
No one spoke. They merely held their breath, glancing between me and him, stunned by the shocking revelations and my voice, colder and sharper than necessary. And he—the other “me,” who must have been far more shocked than the villagers—watched me while desperately feigning composure.
Perhaps he had already realized my true identity. I had not spoken every detail aloud, but this story was certainly not widely known. Still, I had no desire to reveal myself here. I did not want to sever the bonds he had built with the villagers through his good deeds. Yes, no matter how much the red emotion in my chest desired it.
I placed a few coins on the table and turned to leave. I had originally intended to go up to the second-floor room, but in that moment I had mistaken the direction and headed toward the entrance. Since turning back now was impossible, I simply walked out.
I had not been paying attention, but the sun had already set. People were returning home one by one, and soon soft lights began to glow from the windows. I walked toward the outskirts, avoiding both the people and the lights. Their presence made me uncomfortable.
I realized that the one who had discovered my identity might simply flee only much later, after the surroundings were completely surrounded by forest and the cold night air had sobered me somewhat.
Realizing my mistake, I slowly turned around, only to find that my worry had been unnecessary.
“Oh, have you come to answer my question?”
There stood “me,” staring at me with a somewhat stiff expression. The area was already completely dark, but he had likely followed the light I had summoned earlier.
“Who are you?”
His green eyes, matching his hair, gleamed as he asked. I could clearly sense his tension.
“Did I not already introduce myself? I am Viret, a traveler heading to Winzes.”
It was a meaningless sneer. We both knew it was not true.
“…I already know you are a summoner. When we shook hands, Pegasus sensed something.”
I had not known Pegasus could confirm such things. I had heard that certain holy or divine beasts were far more sensitive to connections with summoners, but I had not expected one to detect a summoner's presence even while remaining still.
“Oh, then who do you think I am, Lord Anak?”
“Do not play coy. You already know I am not the Deceiver Summoner, Lord Anak.”
As expected, my earlier words had allowed him to realize my identity. I smiled, then lightly bowed in acknowledgment of what he was about to say, exaggerating the gesture like a comedic actor on stage.
“Just as I thought. Remnant of the Dark Temple!”
……?
Something was wrong, but I could not find the words. Before I knew it, white sigils had appeared in the air on either side of him.