Assault on the Royal Cemetery

Screee— BOOM!CRASH!BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

From the sky, multiple airships opened fire, raining shells down upon the ground and reducing everything below to scorched ruin.

Had they been ordinary cannonballs, the air would have reeked of acrid gunpowder smoke — but these projectiles were launched by the raw collision of magical force, and so no such traces remained.

Their objective was simple: carve a path so the subjugation force could advance in a straight line toward the royal cemetery.

Each exploding shell shattered the tangled mass of trees, roughly hewing open a corridor through the forest.

But the bombardment's pathfinding came to an abrupt end when an arrow streaked up from the heart of the woods.

Crack!

A colossal arrow punched clean through the metal underbelly of an airship and rocketed skyward. It was unmistakably a massive condensed mass of mana given physical form — and after a brief pause, another was fired. From a different direction entirely.

Halrot Kingdom's plan for an opening airship assault collapsed under the mobile artillery platforms that darted through the forest, intercepting the vessels one after another.

"Raise defensive magic!"

"Clerics, form barrier walls behind the mages!"

This time, however, they had prepared. Mages and clerics already in position unfurled protective barriers and poured shells relentlessly downward, determined to force the path open.

"I'm sensing a massive mana reaction!"

The unknown archer, finding its previous shots blocked by the barriers, drew up a far greater well of mana and prepared a truly devastating strike.

KRAAAAAAASH!!

A mana arrow of an entirely different caliber from anything before slammed into the defenses. The barriers raised by the mages and clerics shattered outright.

Crack-crack-crack-CRACK!

The airship whose barrier had broken was forced to withdraw under the arrow fire — but in that opening, the remaining vessels finished carving the path through.

With their airship numbers already reduced by the civil war, they could not afford further losses. Every vessel that took a hit was ordered into immediate retreat.

"Move out!"

"Hold formation!"

Even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so, the airship corps had fulfilled its role perfectly. They had cleared a road almost all the way to the royal cemetery at the hunting ground's center.

"Go!"

"Chaaarge!"

Immediately after, elite fighters of at least Standard 5th class and above fanned out and charged toward the royal cemetery.

Halrot Kingdom's plan was as follows:

And at the heart of that special unit, moving with the rest, were Lillian, Priscilla, and Kaisent.

Of course. They're Masters and mercenaries. I'd use them the same way if I were in charge.

Lillian had already anticipated a situation like this, so she felt no particular resentment.

He said he needed permanent magic items to expand the dimensional warehouse. Cultists who serve Outer Gods might just have something like that.

Taking the lead to claim the spoils first wasn't a bad prospect either.

I'll protect Lillian!

At Lillian's side, Priscilla moved in lockstep.

— Both of you, take care of yourselves. Once we settle this, I'll hold both of you tonight. —

The moment Kaisent's voice, carried by magic, whispered against their ears, both women felt a light, aching throb deep in their wombs as they imagined the pleasure awaiting them that night.

Ah♡

Nngh…♥

Priscilla understood it instinctively. If Kaisent held her again tonight, she would never be able to return to being a man — not for the rest of her life.

I don't… miss being a man anymore.♥

Her pussy and ass had been so thoroughly, mercilessly fucked open and trained by Kaisent that living fully as a woman no longer seemed so bad. Not if it meant she could share this kind of pleasure with her lover for eternity.

"Hold them baaack!"

"Stop the heretics!"

Not long after, the special unit reached the royal cemetery and beheld grotesque, malformed beings — creatures that looked as though they had indiscriminately absorbed other bodies to swell their own bulk.

"Ugh? What the hell are these things?"

"Looks like a bunch of bodies crammed into one."

"Cultists, just as expected! No prisoners — cut them all down!"

The thought that if the cultists' plan succeeded and this world underwent Dimensional Warping, they themselves might end up looking like that filled the special unit with visceral revulsion. Rank and title ceased to matter. Every fighter became of one mind.

The powerhouse who fired those arrows… doesn't seem to be here. Gone inside the cemetery, maybe.

Lillian kept her guard up against the archer who had forced the airships to retreat, grotesque cultists or not. Whether it was a magic item or raw personal skill, the sheer destructive power had approached Origin level.

"Hup!"

Slash-slash-slash!

Convinced by the lack of counterattack that the archer had already entered the tomb, Lillian ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brought her greatsword down hard on a mass of flesh gripping swords and spears in five separate arms.

Rip-rip-rip-rip-rip! Thunk!

Priscilla followed immediately, severing the arms jutting from the mass and driving her blade clean through its head.

"Gyaaaargh…!"

Thrash— thrash—

Even with its skull pierced, the thing flailed its severed limbs and tried to crush Priscilla under its bulk.

"Hah!"

She was far too skilled to fall for a trick that crude. Channeling mana into her sword, she split the body clean in two.

"They keep attacking even with their heads run through! Watch yourselves!"

"Some of them still come at you after being cut in half! Stay sharp!"

"There's no consistency in their movements or abilities! Treat every single one as if it has a completely different power set!"

Following Priscilla's warning, the others began calling out the abilities of the cultists they cut down. Against unknowns with unfamiliar rules, shouting out anything unusual was mandatory protocol.

Otto, the operation's commander, had already told the knights that mercenaries would be permitted informal speech for the sake of rapid battlefield communication — and that anyone who made an issue of it would be cut down by his own hand. Information flew back and forth in blunt, casual language from every direction.

Having cleared the cultists along the approach, the special unit charged forward once more.

"Hm!? All units, halt!"

At that moment, the holy knights — and the combat-specialized clerics who, while not quite their equal, were still battle-hardened — sensed something and signaled a full stop.

The entire force froze. Every bearer of holy power, regardless of which order they served, was issuing the same warning. In that instant, bones still clinging with rotting flesh erupted from the earth.

Judging by their armaments and the malevolent aura they radiated, these were no ordinary low-grade undead.

The undead that a lich — itself attacked by the cultists — had once commanded now stood as the cultists' thralls, blocking the path ahead. Among them were the cemetery keepers and guards who had once protected this place.

"Fools. Handing us free combat power like this."

Stepping forward were the holy knights who served the wicked gods. They invoked their dark deities' names, unleashed holy power, and casually claimed the undead as their own.

Even if the royal cemetery was larger than most — the royal family visited for ceremonies, after all — a cemetery was still a cemetery. The newly dominated undead were not strong enough to be worth dragging into such a confined space.

"Trash. Not even worth taking."

The evil-god holy knights seemed to reach the same conclusion. They destroyed the undead cores and resumed their advance.

The holy knights of the righteous gods would have preferred to purify the remains, but there was no time for that luxury now.

"We're going in!"

Having dealt with the entrance guards, the special unit vanished down the stairs leading into the royal cemetery.

"Move faster! We have to stop the Outer Gods' spawn!"

As the special unit entered the tomb, the remaining knights drove the soldiers and mercenaries forward at a full run.

Collapsing from exhaustion didn't matter. These men were meat shields by design. The real fighting force was the knights, the war chariots, and the griffin riders.

"Hahh— hahh—!"

"Hah! Hah! Hah!"

As the armed soldiers and mercenaries advanced, gasping for breath, several cultists who had grasped their purpose emerged from the forest on both flanks.

Their numbers were few — but if the main force got bogged down here, they would be unable to cover the rear of those who had already entered the cemetery.

"KRAAAAAH!"

"For the great Unity!"

Massive monsters with multiple faces jumbled and protruding from their flesh. Some had clearly absorbed monsters as well — inhuman bones ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠jutted in every direction, and arms or legs had swollen to grotesque, unnatural proportions.

"Mercenaries on the flanks — move as planned!"

Otto, flying low on his griffin, bellowed the order. Portions of the mercenary contingents on either side peeled off and unleashed a barrage of attacks on the cultists.

"Die!"

"Kraaah!"

The mercenaries locked into combat with the cultists, but the advancing main force never stopped. If they wasted time on every grunts, they would never seal the cemetery entrance.

Cultists and corrupted creatures were already swarming in from across the entire royal hunting ground. Both the special unit and the forces outside faced a brutal fight ahead.

Everything now hinged on how quickly the special unit could destroy the cultists' sacred relic.

Once inside the cemetery, the special unit needed to move fast — and precisely because of that, they descended the stairs with deliberate caution.

The enemy had held the tomb for a considerable time. There was no telling what traps they might have laid.

"Let me make this clear in advance. If any of you steal the treasures buried in here, we will not stand idle."

The knights embedded in the special unit issued a warning to everyone present. Given the circumstances, treasures destroyed in combat were unavoidable — but using the chaos as cover for theft was something they would not tolerate.

"Heh heh heh. The higher-ups are the same no matter which kingdom you're in."

One of the evil-god holy knights, listening to the warning, let out an open sneer.

"What was that? You dare mock a decision of the royal house?"

"Sir Knights. We're fighting over whether this world gets destroyed and a new order forced on us by Outer Gods — or not."

"And you can't even focus on that fight because you're busy hunting thieves? Tsk tsk."

The evil-god holy knights openly ridiculed the kingdom's knights, and the knights' faces flushed crimson with rage.

"How dare you!"

"If it weren't for this crisis, dogs like you would be running for your lives with us at your heels!"

"Who ends up running like a dog is something we'll only know once we cross blades."

"Don't tell me you think we're on the same level as those rabble?"

Even as they descended the stairs, the knights and the evil-god holy knights radiated open hostility toward each other.

"That is enough."

In the end, the holy knights of the righteous gods stepped between the two factions.

"But these people—!"

"Do you truly believe our desire to punish them is any less than yours?"

"Th-that's…"

Under normal circumstances, holy knights of the righteous gods and those of the wicked gods — serving deities of opposite natures — would have been at each other's throats on sight.

"We can only fight among ourselves once the gods we serve hold dominion over this world."

"Yeah. You self-righteous hypocrites piss me off enough that I'd love to kill you right now — but the Outer Gods trying to shut our gods out and take this world for themselves piss me off more."

"Tch."

The atmosphere remained ugly, but it never quite reached the breaking point. A grudging consensus formed: they would cooperate, while keeping a wary eye on one another.

The knights' concerns, however, were not unfounded.

Yes! Finally — I've made it this far!

Among the mercenaries, one man had his sights set on a particular treasure said to rest within the cemetery.

The First King's sword, buried in Halrot Kingdom's royal tomb! They say it was what let a mere low-ranking noble build an entire kingdom!

Yamamoto Noriyoshi felt a surge of pure, ecstatic joy at the thought that he had become the protagonist of one of those otherworld isekai stories so popular back in Japan.

On top of that, he had coincidentally obtained something called a Mana Rod from the corpse of a refined-looking knight, allowing him to grow stronger faster than anyone else around him — and that only deepened his conviction that he was the chosen hero.

The legendary sword that no one has claimed since the First King — I'll take it for myself!

Halrot Kingdom's First King had supposedly been nothing more than an insignificant low-ranking noble. But a sword that had fallen into this world from somewhere else embedded itself in the plaza of his domain, and his future changed forever.

Everyone tried to draw it. Everyone failed. And then the First King — who had never been particularly strong — pulled it free as if it were nothing.

From that day forward, he became an Origin-class powerhouse overnight. With overwhelming martial might and a charisma the world had never seen, he founded Halrot Kingdom.

At the end of his life, he drove the sword into the royal cemetery that would become his resting place, and there his lifespan ran out. Countless members of the royal bloodline had tried to draw it since. All of them had failed.

There's no doubt! That sword is Excalibur!

Recognizing the legend as a perfect match for Earth's Excalibur, Noriyoshi was certain he was the sword's rightful new master.

How could he be so sure?

Because he was an isekai protagonist!

The moment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he arrived in this world, the language barrier had resolved itself. He had obtained a powerful Mana Rod and grown strong at an unnatural pace. If that wasn't the mark of a protagonist, what was?

For now, he didn't know the layout of the tomb's interior, so he would stay quiet. But the enemy wasn't stupid either — they would try to draw the legendary sword, or find some way to use it.

He would watch for his moment, pull the sword free, and become a true isekai light-novel protagonist.

And then I'll gather every beautiful woman I can find and build a harem! Starting with…

Noriyoshi shot a sidelong glance at Priscilla.

That woman first.

A mercenary who had reached the Master realm. A beauty so stunning it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she had been born to bewitch men. Perfect as his first conquest.

What was that? I just got a really unpleasant feeling…

At that same moment, Kaisent felt a strange prickle of irritation and glanced around, scanning his surroundings.