Kill! Kill!

“Kill! Kill!”

The Death Warriors’ blue eyes swept across the Turang hunters.

Weapons in hand, the Turang hunters flinched as a chill ran through them.

I felt fear?

Must be my imagination. I was just startled because I’ve never seen undead like these before.

Even inside the Death Warriors’ Death March aura, the Turang hunters refused to lose their nerve.

—Don’t panic just because these corpses weren’t in the briefing.

—The main force has Chang Wu-fei pinned down. All we have to do is grind them down in a war of attrition.

After exchanging words through their message stones, the Turang hunters moved at once.

Contracting and expanding muscle fibers unleashed tremendous power. Layered with Mana Release atop that boiling strength, they could have ripped a boulder the size of a house straight out of the earth.

They poured that colossal force into their weapons and cut down the corpses charging headlong without a care for their own lives.

Shrrrk!

A rootless undead toppled sideways.

But then—why did everything feel so sleepy?

Ah. It wasn’t me who did the cutting. It was that corpse.

That was the last thought of the hunter whose waist had been severed, as his body slid gently aside.

Thud. Thud-thud.

Turang hunters, cleaved through weapon and armor alike, slammed face-first into the dirt.

“Kill!!!”

Muttering that bizarre war cry over and over, the Death Warriors went looking for fresh sacrifices.

Aura?!

The smile vanished from Yang Qian’s lips in an instant.

Variables came in all shapes and sizes—but undead who could deploy master-level swordsmanship and Aura? Where the hell had those come from?!

No. At this rate the formation collapses!

Crushing them under overwhelming magical firepower had failed. Even suppressing them with holy spells had barely made a dent.

Even so, she had been fine with that. Hold Isra and the Tempest Knight Order head-on, and the moment the Tigris pack began their charge, intercept them before they reached full power—then victory was certain.

But now?

Besides Isra and the Abyss Revenant, there were five more corpses that could wield Aura!

What kind of B-class hunter is this?!

This had long since blown past anything a single B-class hunter should be capable of.

—We’ll stop those undead.

Partly to protect the priests and mages at the rear of the formation, three A-class hunters who had been waiting with their arms folded for the decisive moment charged the Death Warriors.

That was the decisive mistake.

Less than ten seconds after Jin Xian and the other two A-class hunters rushed forward with weapons drawn—

Shunk!

“……!”

One priest collapsed in a spray of blood without even managing a scream.

【Keheheh. Nobody was paying attention to me, were they?】

Zaug flicked his tongue. The Dagger of Silence gleamed, slick and dripping with blood—a weapon once carried by a Turang hunter who had been their comrade, and which now belonged to Minho.

The instant the real fighting began, Zaug had circled the entire island, waiting for this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exact moment: the second every escort peeled away, leaving him free to butcher the priests still chanting Lectio Divina.

—Enemy in the rear!

—Impossible! How—

—No anomalies on the Far Sight!

Mages and priests reeled in horror. They hadn’t left the back line completely exposed. Far Sight, alarm magic, detection spells to pierce stealth—they had prepared for an ambush.

Zaug ignored every one of Turang’s precautions and casually drove his dagger into a priest’s chest.

—We have to kill him or drive him off quickly, or— ghk!

Another priest died. Both of them, coincidentally, had been in the middle of chanting Lectio Divina.

Three priests coughed up blood and collapsed. They weren’t dead—but they wouldn’t be joining any more fighting for a while.

【Yahoo! I did it!】

Zaug’s arm exploded with a wet pop mid-cheer.

—I aimed for the torso. How did he dodge that?

The mage ground his teeth. The instant that over-compressed wind launched, the talent Minho had shared with him—Heavenly Martial Body—screamed danger. A longtime thief’s instincts twisted Zaug’s body clear of the blast.

【I’ll throw in one arm as a free gift!】

Zaug vanished from right in front of the Turang hunters. He had been standing there a heartbeat ago—and then he simply wasn’t. It felt like watching a phantom.

Thud. Thud.

If not for the two corpses crumpled on the ground, they would have sworn they’d been hit with illusion magic.

Walls of water erupted like fountains, shielding the rear line.

—Hold. Don’t panic. This is Bangzi’s trap.

An A-class mage hunter broadcast the thought through the message stones. With the barrier up, even an assassin-type undead wouldn’t be able to strike again.

—Regroup and reform.

—Then we can’t press any further offense.

—It’ll only take a moment. The barrier is already up—we can weather magical attacks.

Fountain Barrier was a pre-set formation spell, like a chained array. It could shrug off an assassin’s strikes without effort, and its magic resistance was high enough that even Ingrid’s barrage ought to break against it.

That was Turang’s second mistake.

Ingrid smiled brightly.

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

Photon magic extracted from the soulstone of Alfons Hus—one of the Twelve Heroes—rewove itself through her unique art.

Magic was not simple arithmetic. Dumping twice the mana into a fireball did not double its power; the real gain might be fifty percent at best.

“My magic is a special blend, you know!”

One plus one plus one plus one plus one did not equal five. It became ten—no, something far beyond that.

The Witch of the Solar Eclipse, who inherited the full knowledge and battle experience of every generation of the witch order—that was Ingrid Wygdrasil.

The instant light mana compressed past its limits was released—

KRAAAAAASH!

Blinding white beams slammed into the mages at the rear. For a heartbeat the light of annihilation locked in a stalemate against the gushing water.

—This is a defensive formula reinforced with A-rank mana stones. There’s no way a mere B-class hunter’s summon could—

Hisssss— In less than a second, most of the water curtains boiled away to nothing.

Behind the ruptured water walls, the Turang hunters frantically tried to raise fresh defenses—

“……!”

“……!”

They never got the chance to finish a chant. They died without even a scream.

That’s impossi—

Even the two A-class hunters’ dying cries were swallowed by the light of annihilation.

Just like that, Turang’s entire rear-line firepower was wiped out in a single breath.

Up until the moment I committed the Death Warriors, the atmosphere had still been against us.

In less than a minute, the entire battle had flipped on its head.

“Zaug actually pulled it off.”

Vanishing completely on a chaotic battlefield like this, then landing a surprise attack on a rear line warded with every security spell imaginable—I hadn’t expected that. I’d tried similar tricks myself, but keeping your presence buried in a fight with over two hundred people mixed together was no easy feat.

【Brief. Rest.】

Roan said that much and sank to the ground. His arms and legs had gone stick-thin. Weakening those holy spells had literally ground his body down—like a living man burning through his own lifespan. Luckily he was undead; swap out the parts and he’d be fine.

“I did my part too, Master!”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

Ingrid’s magic had been absurd. One of Old Man Alfons’s secret arts, amplified on top of the spell Emilia had used—its power had blown past anything I imagined. The hillside where that light of annihilation came down had simply evaporated. Mages and priests left no remains at all; only the unnaturally gouged earth hinted that something had once stood there.

“Oh no. I made a mistake!”

“What now?”

“I blasted every single corpse to nothing! Now we can’t reinforce our magical firepower!”

Ingrid’s face crumpled. Ha. For a second I’d thought something was actually wrong. I gave her head a light thump.

“Ow!”

“Stay focused.”

“Uuuugh. I’m sorry, Master.”

The masked hunters’ formation was starting to crack. Time to press harder and lock the victory down.

The first two charges hadn’t produced much. The tank line had stopped them every time, and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠durability on their weapons had taken a serious beating. Even so—if we didn’t pile on now, we’d never get another chance to crush this masked hunter force.

“Smash the tank line.”

“GROOOOAR!”

Thanks to Zaug, the penalty was gone. The full twenty-percent boost from ruthless command applied without any drag. This was the moment to trample them flat.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

“Send me straight down the middle!”

“You got it. Special delivery—catch.”

Answering Sir Isra’s request, I drove the charge straight into the heart of the tank line. Fail to punch through and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠backlash would hit us just as hard.

Crrrack!

Bone lances already worn down from earlier crashes shattered against the shields. Fail to break a wall that solid, and your own body ate every ounce of the rebound.

“GROOOK!”

Several Tigris were thrown from their mounts. Blood-drained steeds carrying heavy infantry had their legs snap under the impact and went tumbling across the ground. A few units were completely wrecked; about a third took moderate-to-severe damage.

Even so, they still hadn’t broken the tank line. The A-class hunter at the front held his ground, Aura still wreathing his shield.

“That will do nicely!”

Like an arrow leaping from a bowstring drawn to the breaking point, Sir Isra kicked off the earth and hurtled straight at the tank.

Aura condensed to a single point erupted outward. The energy gathered beyond the blade scattered a savage, vibrating roar.

Will against will. Manifested blue mana collided—

CRACK! The Aura coating the shield punched open, and the blade drove clean through the hunter’s heart.

“……!”

Disbelief flooded the wide eyes of the hunter. Then the strength went out of his neck and his head lolled forward. No life remained in those pupils.

“Enemy general, slain!”