The Wolves Hold the Line
"Hold the line! Even if you have to abandon the attack, just hold on no matter what!"
As if trying to stem a tide of nearly a thousand undead, roughly a hundred mercenaries raised their shields and desperately held their ground.
"Sun Fire!"
Kwaaaarrrrrr——
A dozen fireballs burst forth into the undead throng and began spewing streams of flame. Hundreds of undead were scorched by the searing heat, collapsing into ash or left so ruined they could no longer fight.
"Go!"
"Kill them!"
The mercenaries waiting behind the shield wall split left and right and charged into the undead that the magic had already reduced to a smoldering ruin.
Kwa-jijik!
The first to break free was the machine weapon of alien design—Arty. Ignoring the weapons flying toward her, she swung the massive axe specially issued to her as if it were a mere tree branch, cleaving undead apart. Right behind her, the Abyss Knight—heavily armed with halberd and tower shield—spurred his mount forward and trampled the undead ranks into collapse.
"Waaaaaah!"
At last the mercenaries themselves fell upon the undead, and the real battle began. The undead still outnumbered them, yet the seasoned fighters never tangled head-on or grabbed at hair and limbs; they kept their distance and cut the creatures down one by one.
"Don't get mixed up with the undead!"
"Keep your spacing and cut them down! No need to rush!"
This was a fight that would end once the undead force before them was destroyed, so the original members of the Wolf Mercenary Group kept the newcomers from charging recklessly and guided the battle with care. Rather than a blind rush, they moved with near-regular-army tactics—only the quality of their weapons differed—and while a few rookies found the restraint frustrating, most adapted well.
Kieeeeee——
Then, from one spot, malevolent mana laced with death energy erupted, and a single undead rose to prominence.
"Guaaah!"
"D-dodge!"
A well-armed undead warrior appeared on the front line, gripping a sword that radiated an unmistakably ominous black aura.
"It's a Fallen One!"
When a cleric who once served the gods dies uncleanly and rises as undead, they become a high-ranking undead that wields twisted holy power. Judging by its gear, this Fallen One had been a wandering holy knight in life. Whatever its living strength had been, the undead now swung a blade steeped in the will to slaughter the living, shearing through mercenary weapons as it charged.
"I-it's coming!"
"Scatter!"
A hit from a Fallen One was never a simple wound, so the mercenaries scrambled to disperse—when suddenly,
Chuuuuk—
the Fallen One went limp, spun about, and began cutting down its fellow undead.
"Uh… what?"
"What the hell is this?"
While the mercenaries stared in confusion at the undead that had turned on its own kind, the veterans who recognized the sight shouted,
"Our mage tamed it! It's on our side now—don't panic, just keep attacking!"
Then, bold as brass, they charged in beside the Fallen One and began carving through the undead. Even a tamed high-ranking undead could still resist domination, yet the original members trusted Kaisent enough to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with the creature he had just seized.
With the Fallen One now added to his forces, Kaisent switched from Sun Fire—which risked harming allies in the melee—to Fire Balls and a variety of other spells, supporting his side from range.
Weak undead that only have numbers are useless. I'll gather the strong ones one by one and make them mine, so Lillian can make whatever choice she wants.
If he kept growing the mercenary band this way, they would eventually collide with the Saryeong Kingdom. Most people would start by worrying about victory or defeat, but Kaisent had no intention of losing—not for Lillian's sake. Whether for the coming war with the Vampire Kingdom or for the choices that would follow, he meant to collect powerful undead and turn them into his own strength.
In any case, the Wolf Mercenary Group had defeated a force five times their number with almost no losses, and their morale soared.
"Now I get why every place that's doing well keeps going on about mages."
"Yeah. I finally understand why famous adventurers and mercenary bands always have a mage with them."
Those tasting a mage's power for the first time marveled, but the veterans who had met mages before reacted differently.
"This is a mage's power? Then what the hell were the ones I've seen?"
"Maybe the age systems in this world and that one are different?"
"Yes, yes. We need to revise the ranking upward from there."
The mages they had met until now could not even hand over a business card compared to this: successive high-powered spells, plus the ability to dominate strong-looking undead from a distance with casual ease. Kaisent was introverted and never formed loud, boisterous friendships, yet his nature itself was gentle and kind; he never looked down on others for his superior ability and maintained easy, appropriate relations with everyone. The spies who had infiltrated to gather information reported these points and requested that Kaisent's value be revised upward. Capable mages existed in plenty, but mages who combined outstanding power with a mild temperament and excellent cooperation were vanishingly rare.
Having completed their first commission with almost no casualties, Lillian handed out a mug of beer to each man and let them raise a light toast.
"Today's battle was a twenty-gold-coin job! And this kingdom is crawling with commissions just like it!"
Mug in hand, Lillian revealed the full dignity of Wolf.
"I have no intention of ending as merely a solid mercenary captain! Follow me! I'll make sure you get struck by a money storm and walk around with your shoulders squared!"
"Waaaaaah!"
At her declaration that she would forge them into an even greater band, the mercenaries raised their mugs high and drained them. One mug left them wanting more in every way, yet they could not afford to get properly drunk after only the first commission. Still, once even a little alcohol hit their systems, the men began talking cheerfully.
"Hey, about the vice-captain…"
"Yeah?"
"Didn't they say the curse dropped her rank down to Standard?"
"They did, right?"
"But watching her fight today, she looked no different from the old days."
A few who had long served in the Wolf Mercenary Group found it strange that Priscilla seemed little changed from her days as Fredrick.
"She was Expert rank originally. Even if the rank drops, the experience stays—of course she looks the same."
"That so?"
"Most of the undead today were just low-grade trash with numbers. Fight a high-ranking one and you'll feel the drop."
But that day would never come. Any dangerous undead would be tamed by Kaisent and turned into his own fighting strength.
After that, the Wolf Mercenary Group wandered the length and breadth of the Halrot Kingdom, clearing commission after commission. The jobs varied widely: facing undead armies like the first, or hunting high-ranking undead that had nested in particular regions. Completing every single request without a single failure, the Wolf Mercenary Group became so famous that almost no one in the Halrot Kingdom remained ignorant of them—and with fame came many watching eyes.
The problem was that goodwill was rare, neutral gazes that looked at them like dogs or chickens made up half, and the remaining half were pure hostility. Goodwill came from those the band had helped; neutrality from Halrot's power-holders; hostility from other mercenary groups. Some of that hostility was the natural reaction of existing large bands that suddenly faced a new challenger, but the greatest share came from bands of similar size. Human nature being what it is, when someone who was once your equal suddenly soars ahead, jealousy follows—especially in the same trade.
"There go the corpse-pickers."
"I wondered where that corpse stink was coming from—turns out it was the corpse-pickers."
Ironically, other mercenary bands that had also come to profit from the undead crisis sneered at the Wolf Mercenary Group as a band of corpse-scavengers.
"These bastards…"
"Hey, what did you just say?"
Naturally the Wolves did not let such provocations slide, and friction with other bands grew sharp. Yet the Wolf Mercenary Group possessed Expert-rank fighters who would be welcomed with high honors by any noble house. They could have swollen their numbers whenever they wished, but the band they wanted was not a balloon that would burst at a single poke—it was a band packed solid inside. That was why they still ran a group smaller than their true rank warranted.
Puh-puh-puh-puh-puh-puck!
"Guek!"
"Keok!"
"W-wait! Kweeeek!"
Whenever another band crossed the line with their provocations, the two Expert-rank fighters would leap out and reduce the offenders to a pulp with bare hands.
"S-strong…!"
"What the hell! They said the Expert and the mage were both bullshit, but they were real!"
Dozens went down under the pair's overwhelming skill; the survivors no longer dared to charge and simply cowered.
"You lot. Next time you open your mouths, think twice before the words come out."
"Kh…"
Today as well, Lillian had stormed into the camp of a band that had spoken without thinking, delivered her "lesson," and returned with Priscilla.
"Waaaaaah!"
"That's our captain! I'm falling for her all over again!"
"Puhahahat! Crazy bastards!"
The several dozen Wolf members brought along just in case cheered at the two fighters who had demolished an entire mercenary band without needing any help.
"Honestly. Some people only come to their senses after a beating. Let's head back!"
"Yes, Boss!"
"Don't call me Boss! It sounds weird in this situation!"
"Hahahahat!"
Whether they had forgotten the two were Expert rank or had simply believed every rumor of their fame was a lie, Lillian smiled after punishing the band that had gone too far.
"Heh. Thinking about it, it's funny. We've fought other mercenary bands more than we've fought undead."
"True enough, hahaha!"
The other mercenaries laughed and played along with her joke, but Priscilla remained strangely quiet, as if lost in thought.
"Fr…edrick. What are you thinking about?"
"Hm? Ah, sorry. I was just thinking about something else for a moment…"
She claimed it was only a brief distraction, yet Lillian had noticed how often Priscilla had been staring blankly lately.
Pleasure has been branded into her body; she's dripping all day long. You'll have a hard time until you get used to it, Priscilla♡
Behind her helmet, Lillian's eyes curved into crescents as she smiled, curious how long the other woman would last.
That aside, now that we have some funds to spare, we should raise our own ranks by one stage as well.
Until now they had been short of money while expanding both the number and quality of the band, but thanks to Kaisent they finally had enough to purchase crystals for two people.
Back at camp, Lillian decided that higher-grade crystals were sold only in large cities, so they would move to a city that sold Expert-rank crystals while looking for new commissions as well. When Kaisent learned she planned to buy crystals, he spoke up as if the timing were perfect.
"You're purchasing crystals? Then could you buy one for me as well?"
"You want to research them?"
"Yes."
Various circumstances had delayed it until now, but this time he showed clear determination to obtain a crystal and study it.
Thus the Wolf Mercenary Group headed toward the central region of the Halrot Kingdom, where crystals could be bought, and made camp before a city that, like so many others, still bore the scorch marks of burned corpses.
"This place looks a bit better, at least."
The kingdom's heartland, perhaps for the sake of the capital's survival, was in far better condition than elsewhere. The ground showed scars of destruction here and there, yet the walls did not feel as though they had suffered heavy assault.
"Only the representative of the mercenary band and a small number of personnel may enter!"
A soldier on the wall shouted that only a few could come inside. If mercenaries rioted and caused trouble, the citizens would only shrink further into themselves. Naturally Lillian entered the city with Kaisent and Priscilla.
"Where is the Alchemists' Guild?"
She tossed a few copper coins to a guard and asked for the location. The guard, paid for his trouble, answered diligently.
The three headed not to the Mercenaries' Guild but to the Alchemists' Guild, approached the counter, and held out a pouch containing soul orbs.
"We're selling these and wish to purchase two Expert 5th-class crystals and one Novice 1st-class crystal."
"Please wait a moment."
The guild clerk behind the counter produced two green orbs that sparkled like jewels and one white orb.
So these are the crystals that raise a Prana rank…
Receiving the crystals that Prana practitioners consumed, Kaisent activated his energy and began analyzing their composition.
"Let me borrow that one for a moment as well."
"Sure, here."
Comparing the two crystals back and forth, Kaisent found complete analysis difficult; he activated his senses and swallowed the Novice crystal.
Powerful life force, and mana of many attributes harmonized into one.
It was a completeness that spoke of this world's long history of refining its unique strengthening method—Prana. Yet the information Kaisent sought about the crystals was far from complete with only this.
"When you take the crystals later, would it be all right if I examine your bodies?"
"What? That's…"
"It's fine."
"Lillian?"
When absorbing a crystal, the user's talent mattered, but concentration was nearly as important. It was not quite the "enlightenment" spoken of by Murim martial artists, yet one still had to focus every sense on accepting the crystal's energy that seeped into the body. Naturally, interference from an outsider's energy could grate on the nerves, shatter concentration, or even worsen the process. That was why the proper way was to absorb a crystal undisturbed in a quiet place.
"If it's for Kaisent, failing once is fine."
"……"
To say that even failing to raise a Prana rank was acceptable… Priscilla realized that Lillian and Kaisent had already gone somewhere her own hands could no longer reach. A small regret rose—why had she not known this sooner?—yet strangely, along with the regret came a peculiar jealousy. The desire to build that same relationship of trust with Kaisent herself had awakened.
What am I thinking!
Naturally she was horrified at such a terrible thought and berated herself, yet no matter how she stoked her anger she discovered she could not hate the boy who had violated her.