Day 3: The Commander's Icy Blade
In the temporary command post of the human alliance, hastily erected on a side path through the Black Rock Mountains, Silveryia Isis spoke her first words upon seeing the scene.
"Tell me again—this all happened in just one night?"
She herself could scarcely believe it at first. The moment she woke that morning, reports flooded in about the outposts that had collapsed overnight under a barrage of mysterious boulders, along with the tally of the dead.
"Why wasn't I informed right away?"
Her gaze swept coldly over the captains of the tens and hundreds responsible for those border outposts, men who stood mute before her words.
"F-Forgive us!"
Silveryia wasn't one for idle chatter even on ordinary days, but now her eyes were chips of glacial ice. The captains shuddered uncontrollably, as if they'd stumbled into a frozen cavern in the dead of winter, icicles dangling like fangs from the ceiling.
"I'm asking again. Why am I only learning of this now?"
"Th-That is..."
Unable to watch the ten-captain sweat like a cornered mouse any longer, a few knights stepped forward to intervene—but Silveryia cut them off.
"How long has it been since I took command of this unit and became your superior? Ah, no need to answer. Without this operation, I never would have crossed paths with any of you—I'd still be holding the northwest front. Just... right. We were dispatched in haste, so at most a few weeks. Excluding the top brass, most of you probably have no idea what kind of commander I am. Isn't that so? It could be."
"So..."
"...I hope everyone here learns this lesson crystal clear."
Schwing!
A sacred silver arc flashed once—and the ten-captain, standing like a condemned prisoner atop the watchtower platform, crumpled silently. He became a headless specter before he could utter a sound.
The top brass inside the tent gaped, speechless in the stunned silence.
But then—
Pssshaaa!
Blood fountained from the decapitated corpse, drenching the nearby knights. Silveryia turned to them.
"One night. Nearly ten border outposts crumbled in a single night. And why was I in the dark? Sir Mike!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Were you aware of this?"
Sir Mike, the overall overseer of the border outposts, responded to his name but flicked a glance at the headless body sprawled before him. He swallowed hard.
"...I was."
How could he not know? But when a soldier woke him with the report, he'd brushed it off without listening—told the man to handle it himself. He'd even dismissed it as trivial, skipping the required report to Silveryia and neglecting any follow-up. All on his watch.
"Of course. Naturally."
Her sword gleamed spotless despite the fresh beheading, not a drop of blood on it. Silveryia calmly wiped the gore splattered across her own face, then fixed her gaze on him once more.
"Then why didn't you report it to me?"
"Well..."
Mike averted his eyes as he answered, unable to withstand the blizzard fury in her stare—the promise of his own head rolling next.
And as Silveryia reached for her sword hilt again—
"He handles reports on Demon King forces. There's no obligation to flag something like a natural disaster, is there?"
A staff officer blocked her path. Silveryia sneered, her lips curling in cold disdain.
"True enough. Sir Mike is from a family closely tied to yours, isn't he, Staff Officer?"
"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean. This was plainly an accident from a natural calamity—and you've already drawn blood, haven't you?"
Silveryia stared at the brazen staff officer, who dared label this suspicious mess a mere mishap. After a long, wordless glare, she turned away.
"If it happens again, maybe you should experience firsthand whose neck my blade finds next."
Blood dripped from her in rivulets, yet her beauty shone undimmed—thorns concealed within the rose. Knights and staff alike glimpsed why the northwest front, a daily slaughterhouse of blood and guts, hailed her as a hero.
And then—
"Disaster!"
"What is it?"
Urgent shouts from outside twisted faces in the tent. Staff and knights rushed out to find a soldier prostrated before the entrance, blood streaming from his scalp.
A knight hauled him up and demanded details. Gasping for breath, the soldier cried out.
"The monsters on the mountain...! They're hurling rocks at us!"
"What?!"
The Demon King army on the move? Knights pressed the soldier for more, but—
BOOM!Thud!
The ground quaked with thunderous roars. Dust billowed, and soldiers erupted in sprays of blood amid the chaos. Terrified troops looked to their commanders for orders amid the carnage—even the silver-tongued staff officer froze at the bizarre spectacle.
"Boulders aimed only at our men... Natural disasters are so unpredictable, wouldn't you say, Staff Officer?"
"..."
No reply came.
Silveryia shot him a triumphant glance, then ordered the other knights to pull the troops back. She mounted her horse tethered beside the tent and charged alone beyond the camp.
Her target: that nameless peak pelting them with stones!
'They've been dead quiet for days. If they're suddenly this active, there has to be a reason.'
A silver knight streaked through the panicking ranks, soldiers scattering from incoming rocks.
'What the hell... is driving this?!'
——Rewind time to the Demon King forces' camp atop the nameless peak.
Since arriving here, they couldn't fight the humans visible below, couldn't even brawl among themselves (loser dies) thanks to the captain's "conserve strength" orders. No this, no that—ever since coming, it was all "don't do that."
Damn, just flip the whole place upside down already? But the captain was the strongest in the pack, and the smartest too. Part of them wanted to trust him.
The elephantkin idled restlessly, flapping their ears with nothing to do but prruu prruu.
One's eyes landed on a particular slacker.
"You—why're you sleeping during the day, prruu?"
The batkin, Sun Bat, flinched at the elephantkin's call and turned.
"J-Just... playing..."
"Playing what, prruu? Everyone here's just crashing out. Don't go stirring shit and get flattened."
The elephantkin's cute trumpet-squeak nearly drew a laugh, but plenty had mocked bats like him and crossed the river of no return.
Sun Bat had some solid muscle himself, sure—but against an elephantkin, he was a mosquito. Without the captain's backing, he'd get squished in seconds amid the applause.
How'd the captain even beat guys like that? Fresh respect for the boss welled up, along with terror at the elephantkin's piercing stare.
But fear aside, Sun Bat was bored playing solo. Cautiously, he sidled up and whispered in the elephantkin's ear.
"Captain greenlit a game. Says throwing rocks down there's fine."
"Prruu?"
Down... at the rocks? Meaning...
"We can chuck 'em at the humans, no problem?"
Sun Bat just nodded, whispering again without a word.
"Looks like it. Captain hasn't said squat about that."
"Prruu!"
One stone at a time, seeking that hometown twang—and soon the pebbles were gone. He tried a big one. Screams echoed below; humans lay with skulls smashed by his tosses.
Thrilled by the unexpected rush, Sun Bat pelted the humans' camps all night. Late to the game, but once hooked, he lost track of time—dawn broke before he knew it.
"That's why I was sleeping."
"Prruu...? But we smashed their guys—why aren't they charging up?"
"Beats me. Watched all night; nothing. Guess they're laying low too."
The elephantkin pondered, then snorted a mighty jet of steam like a locomotive.
"Where'd you chuck from, prruu?"
"Right there~"
Sun Bat pointed to the cliff. Hitting humans from there while playing? Nothing beat the kill-feel, but easy fun plus kills? Perfect game.
"Captain's the best, prruu!"
Pumped, the elephantkin told Sun Bat to lead on, then scooped up a snoozing jelly-king slime sprawled nearby.
—Huh?
"Shut it and follow, prruu prruu."
And so, trouble brewed in a corner the orc knew nothing about.