March of the Undead
The mages of Tolstone Tower had trained for an excruciatingly long time under Vincent, honing parallel magical computations. The result of that grueling effort was the method of combining fragmented spells.
But Yoahim had achieved the same outcome without any proper magical training whatsoever. As Vincent had said, this was something only a genius could pull off.
Is this thanks to the system's assistance too?
Skills made casting magic a breeze. Learn a spell from a skillbook, have enough mana, and even high-grade magic could be unleashed without lengthy incantations. That was just how the game system worked. Effort or talent meant jack shit in the face of it.
Skill List
Just to be sure, he pulled up his skill list, but no new spells had been added. The new magic combining Shield and Lightning Bolt—which he hadn't even named yet—wasn't there. Shield and Lightning Bolt remained listed separately as distinct spells.
So it's not the game system's help... Does that mean it's really my own talent?
Fuck, if he'd known this, he should've just stayed at Tolstone Tower and become a mage. With talent like this, he might've grown stronger faster there than rolling around half-naked out here.
Either way, an unexpected windfall. I'll have to learn a few more spells later and experiment.
Mastering more spells might let him create even more new ones. That was pretty damn encouraging.
Yoahim's class wasn't mage or even black mage. Dark Knights had aptitude for magic and could learn basic spells via skillbooks, but high-grade ones were off-limits. It was hardcoded for class balance, and as a player, there was no hacking the system.
But what if he learned magic without skillbooks? If he mastered it on his own, without the system's crutch? If he could wield magic freely?
Yoahim would become several times stronger than he was now.
To survive this war, I need to get stronger.
Starting tomorrow, as vanguard commander, he'd have to carve a path to Levia Castle. It was insanely dangerous, with a high chance of death. Even if he survived that battle, the war wouldn't end. Beyond Levia Castle waited even fiercer enemies, and at the end, Alzahar.
Fighting a lich on par with Great Demon Haellagos meant Yoahim would brush death multiple times. He had to try every method to grow stronger before then.
And Melos is a concern too.
Melos wouldn't move right away. Beyond the Withered Land, plenty of threats loomed around it. The Holy Veina Kingdom, spiritual homeland to all paladins, home of the Raello Papal Palace. The Goda Empire, boasting the continent's mightiest forces fueled by its vast lands' productivity. The Romani Fairy Kingdom, small in territory but armed with extraordinarily powerful fairies. Three nations bordered Melos alone.
At least Romani fairies hated pointless fights, so an attack from them was unlikely. But Veina and Goda were different.
Yoahim had learned this only after getting trapped in the game, but the Pope of Veina and the Emperor of Goda were infamous rivals. Both superpowers were ramping up influence over neighbors to gain any edge.
Sandwiched between them, Melos was a shrimp caught in a whale fight, forced to watch both giants' moods.
In that situation, starting a war with Haellagos?
Veina and Goda wouldn't sit idly by. They'd long eyed Melos's lands.
Amusingly, from Melos's view, demon-infested Withered Land was far less threatening than fellow human nations Veina and Goda. Haellagos and Alzahar were too busy fighting each other to bother Melos.
But once the war ends, that changes.
After Haellagos crushes Alzahar, where would those sharp spears turn? Obviously Melos. It was the key gateway from Withered Land to the continent.
Haellagos's goal was world domination. No way he'd stop at one war.
If things unfolded that way, Melos would feel threatened, muster its army, and strike first. Once war broke out, Veina would back Melos. To the Pope-ruled nation, Haellagos was an enemy that had to die.
And if Melos fell, Veina was next. Lose a tooth, and your gums ache. Veina would want to snuff the fire before its lands burned.
Haellagos knows that. Does he really think he can win?
With spies in Melos feeding constant intel, Haellagos wasn't some dumb leader. His moves were sharp and cunning.
Or maybe he thinks he can get Bellrallion's cooperation.
Bellrallion and Haellagos had opposing philosophies. The Ashen Dragon believed in exterminating every last life. The Great Demon saw death and life as two sides of the same coin, inseparable. Uniting such ideologues was hard to imagine.
But Kakali's power was weak, Raello's immense. Ideology aside, Bellrallion and Haellagos uniting was the only way to counter Raello's faithful.
But if that was the plan, why not ally with Alzahar from the start?
Or did he see Alzahar as a backstabbing risk and want to uproot the threat early?
Yoahim hummed thoughtfully as he slowly paced. Returning to the fifth-floor entrance, silence reigned. Leon and Sasha had found spots to crash, likely sleeping early to prep for tomorrow's march.
Yoahim shook off stray thoughts and hit the sack early too. Right now, solving immediate problems took priority. If he died in tomorrow's fight, all those worries would be moot anyway.
They said they'd turn this floor into a dungeon, right?
Glancing at the ceiling sparked the thought. What was the point of dungeon-ifying it when this wasn't even a game? If enemies breached the gates and reached Spire Tower, the battle was already lost.
Or maybe we could make a last stand here and wipe them all out.
Like warriors holding a narrow canyon, they might hold inside Spire Tower using Haellagos's mighty power.
Yoahim mulled over fortifying his floor as sleep claimed him.
“……Huh.”
It didn't feel like he'd slept much, but morning had come. Yoahim blinked awake to birdsong, staring blankly out the window. Leon, already up and geared, spoke.
“Lord Apostle, why are you spacing out at the wall? Snap out of it.”
“……Nah, just... it's weird.”
“Weird how?”
“That birds live in the Withered Land too.”
“What kinda dumb shit is that first thing in the morning? It's a place where people live—of course birds do too. Quit yapping and gear up for departure.”
“……”
No respect for your apostle, none at all.
Yoahim grumbled as he rose, stretching hugely. As he mashed down his wild bedhead, Sasha beamed, offering a washbasin.
“I fetched washwater. Please use it.”
“Where'd you even get washwater?”
“There's a magic circle over there that produces water. And that one's a magic hearth for cooking.”
What is this, a damn house?
Yoahim snorted in disbelief and started washing.
“Huh, lukewarm.”
He'd expected ice-cold, but it was perfectly temperate.
Sasha grinned. “It adjusts temperature too.”
Seriously, a house? Yoahim chuckled wryly, finishing up. He wetted his hair, roughly combed it, donned his gear, and boarded the inter-floor lift.
“You're late!”
Arriving at the first floor, a shrill voice stabbed his temple. Yoahim scowled at Tilia pointing accusingly.
“Late my ass. We never even set a meet time.”
“Still late! Know what time it is? Eight in the morning!”
“Then why ask if you're gonna answer? You're doing all the talking yourself.”
“What's a... janggu?”
Something that exists. Yoahim brushed it off and asked Tilia,
“Why're you even here?”
“To babysit you, duh. Forgot what the master said yesterday already?”
“Such a pain.”
“I'm the pain!”
Yoahim stepped back as she fumed.
“Your unit okay without you? Attacking Levia Castle means clashing hard with Alzahar. Can the boss really ditch her troops?”
“Ditch? My deputy handles it—no worries. I'll rejoin for the Levia Castle assault anyway.”
“Tough gig.”
“All your fault!”
Not me—it's you throwing a fit 'cause you won't accept me as deputy.
Yoahim held his tongue. Provoking her more would just breed hassle.
“Sigh, no time—follow me. You know your mission's critical, right?”
“'Course.”
His task: blast open the road to Levia Castle. As vital as it was dangerous.
“I already got your unit from Lord Halbert. Lead 'em straight to the mana spring—the one from yesterday. You know it? No help from me this time; figure it out.”
“Then why tag along, nuisance?”
“I heard that!”
“Sorry, meant you to.”
“……Wanna die? Kill you and raise as undead—problem solved?”
Like that'll work.
Yoahim ignored her and opened the door to outside. Morning sun flooded in, blinding him momentarily. Vision clearing, the first sight was his undead unit, arrayed in perfect order.
“This my unit?”
Skeleton Warriors—easy to mass-produce with solid performance. Skeleton Archers—packing serious firepower in numbers. Skeleton Mages—basic spells only, but magical. Zombies—tough meat shields. Ghouls—sturdy shock troops.
Five hundred strong, no elites, but a well-rounded, reliable force.
Now Yoahim had to lead them to Levia Castle.
Perilous as hell. Scary, even frightening.
But.
“The riskier, the bigger the gains.”
He'd gotten EXP just from commanding yesterday. No reason to dodge fights.
Grinning, he said,
“Alright, let's go grind some levels.”