Charge!

"Charge! Charge them!"

"Bring the wall down! Smash every last stone of it!"

"The enemy's nothing but a gathering of weak races!"

"Stout warriors do not fear the likes of magic!"

"I could end this war by myself! But do you know why I am granting the rest of you a chance? I don't either!"

Astonishingly, every one of those cries had poured from the mouth of a single gigantic man. He was Kulterum, commander of the Pride camp—an orc, though his body ran three or four times the size of even a respectably massive orc. That, more than anything, was why the other orcs followed him.

"Waaaaah!"

Kulterum had no plan whatsoever. A wall stood before him and enemies stood beyond it, so he would smash both. On nothing more than that conviction, he had led a player army all the way here. A few of the races had tried to defy his orders.

"Anyone who will not follow me, I will kill with my own hands!"

Pride itself.

"But those who distinguish themselves shall receive a tremendous gift from me!"

What that gift actually was, no one knew. Kulterum had never bothered to say. Refuse to join the advance, though, and he truly would kill a player where they stood. The players of the Pride camp had no choice but to follow.

"What the hell is this?!"

"Aren't we at a ridiculous disadvantage?"

"The commander's lost his mind!"

"I'm an orc too, but... he's completely unreasonable."

"This goes way past pride."

Discontent ran thick through the Pride camp. Kulterum, however, was strong past the point of reason—strong enough that dozens of players rushing him at once still would not be his match. That fact, perversely, set some of them at ease.

"With power like that... wouldn't we win even if we were the ones holding the walls?"

"Yeah... he really is that strong."

"Idiots. You think their commander is weak? We have to fight as if we don't have one."

"Uh...? So we're going to lose?"

"Probably. Because our commander's an idiot."

"Oh, for—!"

The Sloth camp, by contrast, believed they had a real chance. Everyone knew a defense was far more favorable than an assault, and this camp in particular was thick with races whose strength lay in magic. Once the Pride players drew close enough, the Sloth side began to cast. Powers of every color stitched themselves across the sky and came crashing down on the Pride camp.

Dozens of spells detonated in a chain, and the blast wiped some four hundred charging orcs clean off the face of the world.

"..."

"..."

The Pride camp was stunned, of course. So were the players of Sloth. None of them had ever fought a war on this scale.

"If you've got mana to spare, don't hoard it—pour the magic ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on! Cutting their strength down as far as we can comes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first!"

The shout came from an elf who looked a little older than the rest. At his word the players began preparing another volley, and a low, swelling hum filled the air. The Pride advance, driven forward by nothing but Kulterum's will, faltered.

"Anyone who stops will be purged on the spot!"

This time the roar did little. Dying to magic and dying to Kulterum were not so different. Steel bit. Bodies dropped.

"Infuriating wretches!"

Kulterum raised his enormous glaive. Dozens of varied spells came screaming off the wall toward him. He drove mana into the blade and swung with everything he had, the motion of a batter meeting a pitch.

There was an impact—and yet the spells did not explode. They simply reversed course and flew straight back toward where they had been cast.

"...Wh-what?!"

"He's insane!"

"Dodge!"

"Is the shield spell ready?!"

"We spent all our mana on the attack spells!"

The Sloth players had never imagined their own magic coming back at them. It struck them dead-on. The upper stretch of the wall came down in the blasts.

"Kahahaha! Mosquitoes, the lot of you! As if the likes of you casting magic would amount to anything!"

Before that overwhelming presence, every player—Sloth and Pride alike—stood with mouth hanging open.

The Pride camp was not without magic or ranged skills of its own, and now it was their turn to use them. Caught wide open by Kulterum's sudden blow, the Sloth camp took even heavier losses. In a breath they lost some eight hundred fighters. Pride had suffered badly too, but when the damage was equal, it was always the side holding the walls whose bones ached more.

"What is going on? Why is their commander fighting out in front?"

"What is our commander even doing?! Help us!"

Narsha, commander of the Sloth camp, watched without so much as a flicker of her eyes. In a sense, she was only being faithful to her role.

Yujun, who had been casting Frozen Field again and again, dragged in a rough breath.

"Magic really doesn't suit me."

Standing still and doing nothing but cast was suffocating. Leaping down off the wall right now, though, was a heavier risk than he wanted—and above all, he had no confidence he could take Kulterum. He looked at Hong Yeji.

"Is there any way to make our commander take Kulterum?"

"Hmm... I don't know if she'll go that far. I'll try asking."

Hong Yeji ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ran to Commander Narsha. Narsha flinched at the approach, then saw who it was and spoke with open irritation.

"What now?"

"What do you mean, now? This is only the second time."

"What do you want. Just the point."

"Help us."

"With what?"

"You know what I mean. Their commander."

"...That wasn't the promise we made. I'm only going to watch. That was the whole of our deal."

"...Cold. You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠don't care if I spread your weakness around?"

"Go ahead. Just beat them badly enough that they don't all die. The other camp will handle the killing."

"...Tch."

Faced with that stubbornness, Hong Yeji withdrew. She was back at Yujun's side in moments, shaking her head.

"She said no."

"Figured as much."

"You expected that?"

"Yes, well."

"Mm, but... this isn't looking great."

"No, it isn't."

"You think the commander won't step in at all?"

"Easier to assume she won't. Better than sitting around expecting it."

"When are you jumping in?"

"I already am."

Ice cracked and split across the field. The magic he was casting was dealing the Pride camp considerable damage all the same.

"You're better with a sword, aren't you, Yujun?"

"Their commander's on my mind. Honestly, I don't even know what level he is. He just seems extremely strong."

"...He's been batting away every projectile spell since the start. The amount of mana he's packing has to be ridiculous."

Kulterum's ability was not absolute. Debuffs, and the sort of magic that spread along the ground, slipped past him. He could stop projectiles, and only projectiles. Even so, his momentum was terrifying beyond words.

"Charge! Charge!"

Thanks to Kulterum's rampage, the Pride camp had already reached the very foot of the Sloth wall. More than a thousand of them had been killed, and still a great many players remained. By holding back on projectile magic as much as they could, the Sloth camp had cut its own losses considerably—not that the two sides differed in any meaningful way where raw strength was concerned.

And then Kulterum cleared the wall in a single leap. Swinging that enormous glaive, he began slaughtering the Sloth players. The formation built atop the wall came apart under the impacts. No one was his match. Before him, numbers meant nothing, and the players of Sloth were swept away in heaps.

Yujun drew his sword. It was time to stop playing with magic. He had to hold Kulterum before their losses grew any worse.

Can I even stop him?

Honestly, Kulterum fighting the players entered in the Species Tournament was close to cheating. Yujun stepped in front of him anyway.

"Hm? Not running?"

Kulterum looked at the man who had suddenly appeared, interest bright in his eyes.

"You strong?"

Yujun asked it calmly.

"What have you been looking at until now? Do you not see the mountain I have piled from the corpses of your allies?"

"Then why are you only picking off the weak ones?"

"They are in front of me. So I kill them."

"There's someone stronger. You're not going to fight them?"

"Then I shall kill you, and go meet them after."

"As if you even know where they are."

"Do I frighten you? Human, you have too many words."

"Not feeling confident, I see? Our commander's right over there."

Yujun pointed.

"Kahaha... Foolish. Truly foolish. You mean to provoke me? Then I shall gladly answer! Commander of the Sloth camp! Come and face me this instant!"

Just like that, Kulterum's interest in Yujun snapped off, and he set out to find the Sloth commander.

After I've pushed it this far, you're still just going to stand there and watch?

Yujun looked toward where the commander stood. She was at the highest point of the wall. Narsha, who had been watching only Yujun as promised, twisted her face.

"There you are! Beastkin girl! Face me! I do not judge by outward form alone. The scent of the strong hangs upon you!"

At the sight, Yujun let out a breath of relief.

Now I can actually move.

The problem of Kulterum was settled. And if that was settled, he no longer had a match on this field. Yujun leapt from the wall, paying no mind to the orcs who were only just climbing it. He landed solidly, and dozens of spells came flying at him.

Upon reaching level 182, he had already assigned every unallocated stat point he had accumulated—agility above all else. His movement was nothing like before. He slipped through every fire-attribute and lightning-attribute spell, and the orc warriors who closed on him met his sword. Four orcs lost their heads in a flash and collapsed. Not one player in the Pride camp could read the path of his blade. It was that fast.

From the moment he came down beneath the wall, Yujun did not stop moving.

"What is that human?"

"Is he their commander?"

"He's dodging all of it..."

"At this rate, isn't he even faster than Kulterum?"

"If he's a commander, fighting him just throws our strength away! Everyone, up the wall!"

From the Pride camp's perspective, Yujun was what Kulterum was to the enemy. No attack landed on him, and the moment you drew close, you died.

A combat machine.

Watching him slaughter their allies without a trace of fatigue, the Pride players felt fear. Hong Yeji supported him with arrows, her specialty, and anyone who aimed for her died at the hands of Paranet, standing at her side. The battle flowed on that way, without any great shift.

After killing more than five hundred players on his own, Yujun began to feel his stamina slipping. The enemy knew it too. Every player who had not climbed the wall rushed him at once.

"Paranet!"

"Yes!"

"Use Corpse Explosion! Let's thin them out!"

"As you command!"

Paranet's mana had its limits, so they had been saving Corpse Explosion. With the enemy packed tight, now was the moment. Corpses lay strewn all around. There could be no better ground for him.

A tremendous blast hammered their ears.