63. Warriors of Reversal (3)
“A monster wave?”
Baron Bastian Schwine and his men stared at Wayne with blank expressions, clearly not grasping his words.
“Yeah. If a monster wave hits right when I issue the warning, the Westline Fortress commander might ignore me, but the fortress leaders of the other grand territories and the outpost captains around them will believe it. They'll block the brutal monster wave themselves. Then, using Dresden's Enok Fortress to persuade the surrounding grand territories to pressure Westline—even if he's the emperor's father-in-law, he'll have no choice but to send a full-scale search party into the Great Forest to confirm. That gets us halfway there.”
“Ah! If you can predict and warn about the monster wave accurately, it's totally plausible.”
“No! That's too late.”
“Pardon?”
“You misunderstood. I'm not just warning about a wave—I have to trigger it myself. If the real wave starts and moves, they won't have time to assemble forces and will get picked off one by one anyway.”
Bastian glanced at Curtis Mueller and Sera Raudi with a puzzled look, silently asking if what Wayne was saying was even feasible.
And understandably so. Freely entering and exiting the Great Forest like one's own home was one thing, but herding monsters to create a wave was on an entirely different level.
Curtis, grasping his intent, replied firmly. “If you're saying you'll trigger a monster wave, then you must have a way. Young lord, you've never once broken a promise you've made.”
Sera chimed in next. “I believe you too, of course. Who would've thought a cripple like me, bedridden for five years, could pilot a 3rd class Gigant now? But Young Lord Wayne made the impossible possible and gave me hope. There's definitely a way this time too. You came all this way because you believe that too, right, former Captain Bastian?”
Bastian chuckled wryly and nodded. The scale was different, but he had indeed come believing in Wayne's miracles.
“Let me add one more thing,” Wayne cut in.
“Truth is, this plan was nearly impossible when I met the Westline commander before. I didn't even consider it. But now, with the odds improved, it's fifty-fifty.”
“What changed?”
“You guys showed up.”
“Pardon?”
“Put simply, if all eight of you here can pilot 3rd class Gigants within two months, my plan's success rate jumps to fifty percent.”
Bastian and his men gaped in shock.
“We can pilot 3rd class Gigants in two months?”
“I'll do my absolute best, of course. But if even one of you fails, I won't execute the plan. I don't want to drag my subordinates into something with less than fifty percent odds.”
Bastian and his men exchanged glances. Recovering their Odd and piloting 3rd class Gigants in two months would be nothing short of a miracle—the very dream they'd wished for every day over the past five years. But if even one failed, it would crack Wayne's trust and potentially doom the entire territory.
Bastian's burden felt especially heavy. He'd emphasized they weren't just blocking ant legions but saving Westline Fortress. Though he hid it well, his wounds ran deep—inflicted directly by an enemy black Magic Knight mech.
“Creating an Odd Hole is like torture. The pain is excruciating. If you're not confident, turn back now! I have no intention of wasting my precious Odd on half-assed quitters.”
Bastian flinched slightly at Wayne's words. The boy before him wasn't the scrawny 16-year-old he'd heard about. Nor was he some skirt-chasing wastrel.
That kind of confidence doesn't come without real skill. What kind of life has this youngest young lord even lived at his age?
Bastian glanced back at his men. Their eyes burned not with hesitation, but with burning desire.
These guys... they really want this.
Reading their resolve, he saw no need to waver further.
“We've made up our minds! We'll do it.”
Wayne flashed a satisfied grin. “Everyone, load up the wagons! We've got a long way to go.”
Wayne took the lead in his Gigant, scattering red Odd in all directions. With possible tails and nearby villages, he had to be extra cautious about hunters or locals spotting him.
Come to think of it, handling red Odd is easier than breathing now.
When he'd first absorbed Python's red Odd, controlling it even at 100 meters was a struggle. Now, he could spread it several kilometers while walking, dozens if narrowed, and maintain a 500-meter radius even in his sleep. Python would've been horrified to see this mastery of his own power.
A monster wave... might be the perfect chance to test my limits.
And with creating Odd Holes for Bastian and the mech warriors, his daily workload had just grown again.
Yulih and twenty dwarf warriors handpicked by Wayne himself. Awakening their Odd sense and circulation took just an hour a day, barely taxing his reserves. The rest was up to them—finding and growing that sensation on their own. But sensing it wasn't easy, and even with Odd, inheriting ancestral spirits carried risks of failure.
With only six magic stones left, they were still training twenty-one dwarves, including the chieftain. Brock and the dwarf young trio had been exceptionally lucky to succeed on the first try.
The real challenge was Bastian and his seven mech warriors. Unlike the dwarves, accelerating their Odd sixteenfold to form heart Odd Holes drained Wayne massively. And their agony in accepting it meant he had to monitor and inject carefully—a grueling mutual ordeal.
Tch, look on the bright side. At least it boosts their Odd acceleration too.
Today, Wayne worked on their Odd Holes in a corner of the Lava Cave where Gigants were being excavated. The spot was ideal: the process took time, he could oversee mining progress, and seeing Curtis and his squad piloting Gigants would motivate Bastian and his men.
“Gaaah! Arrrghhh!”
As Wayne pushed Odd in, a mech warrior's scream echoed through the cave.
Orc Great Chieftain Bardetu, working nearby, shook his head. “Orcs normal! Humans crazy! Enjoy pain!”
“Kuok!”
“Kuoook!”
The other orcs nodded. For the past fortnight of rotating screams, even they thought it looked insane.
Boom!
Yond's Steel Golem stomped. “Orcs! Strong bodies house strong spirits!”
“Orcs! Work hard!”
The orcs resumed digging. Wayne ordered the dwarf trio to push them harder—building stamina in exchange for prime meat at meals. It was costly, but an investment and rehab program. In their prime, orcs transcended physical limits, accumulating aura without training. Aura was unlikely now, but boosted stamina plus Karian Odd Breathing Method stage one would make them combat assets.
Mid-Odd Hole creation, Bastian asked, “Hrngh! Young Lord Wayne, how did you even find this place?”
He'd screamed like the others at first, the pain like knives gutting him and vise-gripping his heart. But in a fortnight, he'd adapted enough to chat.
“Believe me if I say God guided me?”
“I'd believe it. No other way to explain this insane luck. Urgh!”
Wayne felt the same. Beyond the Gigants, he'd absorbed Karian King's memories here—and through them, Bras King's too.
“But is it okay for us to see all this? What if someone escapes and reports back to the territory?”
“If that were possible, wouldn't those orcs have bolted already?”
“Ah, true. I've been wondering—why are those orcs so docile?”
“Gave 'em a taste of real pain.”
Bastian tilted his head.
“Don't move! Yours is twice as hard as the others!”
“Yes! My apologies.”
Bastian's wounds were severe—two sites, making Odd rotation tricky. Wayne bypassed them, doubling the effort. But a promise was a promise; he gave his all.
Wayne withdrew his hand. “Memorize the Odd flow path now.”
“Hoo! Got it.”
Bastian eyed him. “May I ask one more thing?”
“You're full of questions.”
“Gotta know a lot to help you, right, young lord?”
“Fine, shoot.”
“How far do you plan to go?”
“With the territory?”
“Yes. Curious about the scale you're aiming for.”
Wayne pondered. “Used to think any small fief would let me live free of Adam and the others' scrutiny. But lately, I see it's not that simple.”
He reviewed the situation. Food came entirely from Lorenne Barony; residents were just 3,000 dwarves. Gigants aplenty for defense, but pilots scarce. Dwarves were warriors all, yet without Steel Golems, ineffective. Nothing felt solidly like a territory yet.
“Goal for now: a territory no one else controls.”
“Then, grow the population first.”
“Once settled, I'll bring more dwarves—at least 20,000.”
“Not enough. Need more humans, especially. Dwarves obey you, but they're a different race. Outsiders won't count them as proper residents. And if dwarves keep dominating, human pilots get sidelined—turning it into a dwarf kingdom, not yours.”
Wayne got it. He could control them, but without him? Friction inevitable, especially powerless humans versus mighty dwarves.
“Early days now—busy settling. But soon, power struggles. Keep humans at least double the dwarves.”
“Good point. I've been mulling it, but can't steal residents, and no ideas...”
Bastian's eyes lit up. “I've got a great one.”