The Minister's Hasty Retreat
While Jinho was completing his departure procedures after reuniting with Sergey, officials from the Russian Ministry of Defense arrived on a military aircraft from Moscow.
Though the title included the word erosion, their true objective was to inspect Bolshoy Ussuriysky Island.
“He must have left already.”
“The savior of Paris, Yu Jinho.”
When one of the officers muttered those words, Minister of Defense Andrey frowned.
“Hmph. Relying on outside forces while claiming to protect the motherland.”
Andrey made no effort to conceal his displeasure.
The Russian player community was currently split into two factions. The first was the conquest faction led by Sergey, focused on the Tower of Babel and the Gates. The second was the Knights of the Motherland, a unit being trained by the Ministry of Defense. The neo-Nazi group known as the Guardian Knights—the same ones who had clashed with Jinho before—belonged to that side as well.
“We cannot entrust our nation’s future to some yellow monkey.”
Minister Andrey himself was a player who had received an invitation to the Tower. His rank was Platinum. Every officer accompanying him on this inspection was a player too, their minds armored with excessive loyalty.
“Only we can make Russia great.”
“You, Minister, are a true patriot.”
“Spare me the empty flattery.”
Andrey waved the compliment away, but none of them believed the gesture was genuine. Everyone knew how much he adored being called a “loyal servant of the state.” He had essentially turned half the military into his personal force, all while wrapping his constant overreach in the banner of national loyalty.
The officers beside him had either been fully indoctrinated into that mindset or were simply currying favor for the benefits it brought. Either way, they were cut from the same cloth.
Thud. Thud.
A man with a mohawk came walking from the opposite direction. His body was half-bare, covered in magical tattoos, and the stiff spikes of his hair swayed slightly in the wind.
“Russia’s Grizzly.”
“Sergey…”
The officers couldn’t hide their tension.
“The stench of rot is overwhelming.”
“What did you say?”
“Ah. We’re near the fish market. Can’t be helped.”
Sergey flashed a crooked grin at the officer’s outburst.
“What? Something bothering you?”
“Grr…”
One officer swallowed a groan. Andrey shot him a look of contempt before speaking.
“I trust you gave the savior of Paris a proper farewell?”
“Yeah. You already know the plane left, don’t you?”
“How rude, Sergey. Show proper respect to the Minister of Defense.”
“I’m not even military. Why should I?”
“Have you no respect for your elders!”
“Lower your voice, you dog of Andrey’s.”
“H-huh?”
“Why is the mutt barking when its master is standing right here?”
Veins bulged across Sergey’s muscles. The sheer killing intent made the officer who had been running his mouth shut up instantly.
“Minister. You really ought to keep your pet on a tighter leash.”
“Of course. These friends burn with passion for the motherland, so I hope Russia’s Grizzly can understand.”
Andrey and Sergey’s gazes clashed in midair.
If only this bastard wasn’t Russia’s strongest player…
So he was behind the attack on Jinho during the Dream Land incident.
The absurdly named Guardian Knights and the other neo-Nazi groups all had the Defense Minister’s shadow looming behind them. He colluded with corporations under the guise of securing the nation’s future, funneled resources to those extremist organizations, and siphoned talented individuals into the military to train secret special forces. He was constantly pulling strings from the darkness.
“Then may I ask you to guide us to the site?”
“Vehicles are already waiting.”
“An escort from Russia’s Grizzly himself. What a rare honor.”
Andrey climbed into the car with a relaxed smile. His attitude remained leisurely the entire time. In truth, he placed very little faith in the stability of the undead army Jinho had boasted about.
An army of the dead?
Absurd.
Russia had a few necromancers of its own, but none of them operated in organized units. The undead instinctively hated the living. That truth applied even to those summoned by players. They might not turn on their master, but the moment a necromancer lowered their guard, the creatures would attack teammates or guild members.
Controlling the undead is impossible.
This wasn’t a conclusion based solely on Ministry data. They had gathered intelligence from foreign sources and even commissioned the Black Network. The operations command had reviewed the materials countless times.
It simply cannot be done.
He no longer cared whether the savior of Paris had attempted something foolish. He had already decided Jinho was doing it merely to help Sergey, the man he viewed as his ideological rival.
We will take full advantage of this opportunity.
His fierce opposition to the president’s decision had all been for this moment—to personally inspect Bolshoy Ussuriysky Island, prove that the undead could not be controlled, and thereby elevate the Ministry of Defense’s prestige.
I will show the world that it is the Ministry, not Sergey, who truly protects the motherland.
Andrey clenched his interlaced fingers until the knuckles turned white.
Rattle. Rattle.
The investigation team rode the Trans-Siberian Railway, a colossal line stretching across the frozen tundra of the Far East.
“The primary purpose of deploying the undead was to secure the railway’s safety, correct?”
Andrey deliberately let his voice rise at the end. The Trans-Siberian was the lifeline of eastern Russia, the vital artery delivering supplies to citizens living on frozen soil. After the first Great Erosion, players had to be stationed along the tracks on a regular basis. Even now, escort players rode aboard the train.
Sergey answered gruffly.
“Minister, why don’t you take a good look around and see if there are any problems.”
“Naturally. It is only right to work diligently while living off the nation’s bounty.”
Andrey smiled comfortably.
“We are currently gathering statements about the state of the railway area over the past three weeks.”
The investigation team was not composed of ordinary men. Every officer with him was an elite—outstanding not only in combat ability but in analysis, intuition, and situational judgment. They had been handpicked to sideline Sergey and seize control of the player community. Their work would be flawless.
Yet Sergey, facing those challenging stares, had only one thought.
Ah. What should I eat for lunch?
Power? Grasping it only brought endless headaches. Why bother? Sergey’s only concerns were reaching the pinnacle of magic and protecting the people within his own circle.
Knock, knock.
“Minister.”
“Ah. I’ll step out for a moment.”
“As you wish. If you could check what they’re serving for lunch, I’d appreciate it.”
“Hmph.”
Once outside the cabin, Andrey received the compiled reports from his officers.
— Monster attack frequency reduced by 82%.
— Undead sighted patrolling near the railway.
— When attacked first, subjects only defended and did not initiate counterattacks.
— Battles observed between undead forces and monsters.
“...That concludes the report.”
The officers kept their heads bowed. The results were unbelievable. Both the engineers and escort players had given statements that completely contradicted expectations. The train’s black box contained identical footage.
The officers, having witnessed these impossible outcomes, stole glances at Andrey while keeping their heads lowered.
“What are you all so worried about?”
Andrey tapped the window with his index finger. The direction he indicated led toward Bolshoy Ussuriysky Island—the land the government had leased out.
“It’s only been three weeks. With enough preparation, anyone can stage whatever they want.”
They hadn’t even met the undead directly. Simply having them intercept monsters without approaching the train was well within the capabilities of a skilled necromancer.
“What is the scale of the undead forces?”
“Witness accounts vary, but estimates range from several hundred to a thousand.”
“Battalion to regiment size. Not a negligible number.”
“Higher-tier undead that appear to be commanders have also been observed intermittently.”
“Compile all audio recordings and black box data immediately.”
“Yes, sir!”
The reports were unexpected, yet Andrey remained calm. Once they reached Bolshoy Ussuriysky Island and provoked the undead, they would surely elicit some kind of reaction.
If the officers—or better yet, I myself—were to sustain an attack, the resulting image would be perfect.
He was willing to take a few wounds. If he needed justification to lead Russia’s players, he could manufacture as many scars as necessary.
When the train reached the next station, the investigation team switched to military jeeps and headed for the island. Several olive-drab vehicles raced across the plains.
“We have entered the erosion zone.”
Not long after the guiding soldier spoke, monsters appeared on the horizon.
“Undead cavalry?”
“Prepare for combat—”
“Everyone’s so jumpy.”
Sergey thrust his right hand into the air.
“Relax. They’re clearly my friend’s servants.”
His trust was absolute. He had personally witnessed Jinho turn a Lesser Drake into an undead on the spot during the Paris recapture operation.
Since it’s Jinho, there won’t be any issues.
The man had come to Russia’s aid without hesitation when the demonic realm appeared in Tunguska. To repay that debt, he had flown alone to Europe during France’s collapse. Having fought back-to-back with him, Sergey’s faith in Jinho ran deep. Even though they hadn’t shared many words, he trusted him completely.
—Gegegel.
—Gegegel.
Skeleton Cavaliers charged forward at over two hundred kilometers per hour. The thousand-strong undead force swept past the military vehicles like chickens ignoring a cow.
“Unbelievable…”
One officer shook his head, unable to accept what he was seeing. The combat strength of those undead cavalrymen was at minimum Gold-rank. An entire regiment of such troops had just galloped past living humans without so much as a glance.
The sight was so surreal he had to fight to keep from crying out.
“Minister, we have roughly one hundred kilometers remaining until our destination.”
“What are you asking me for? Just keep driving.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bone Drakes soared through the sky. Undead giants slaughtered monsters. They witnessed one hellish spectacle after another, yet the undead never once directed killing intent toward the investigation team. They barely spared them a glance.
“Minister, will the inspection conclude today?”
“I would appreciate it if you stopped rushing me.”
“I need to decide what to eat for dinner, don’t I?”
Grind.
Watching Sergey remain so relaxed only fueled Andrey’s irritation. Fine. Keep acting like you’ve already won. One way or another, he would snatch that medal of victory right out of his hands.
I am the one who will lead the players of our motherland. Not you, Sergey!
The great river flowing between Manchuria and Siberia came into view—the Amur.
“That is the island.”
“Was it always like this?”
“Of course not. There was nothing there before.”
Andrey let out a long, heavy sigh.
A massive black citadel stood at the center of the island. The walls surrounding it were immense, and even a casual glance revealed more than ten thousand undead in the vicinity. The overwhelming presence was like staring at the fortress of a demon king. The officers of the investigation team were rendered speechless as they gazed at the white bridge connecting the island to the mainland.
Please, whatever you do, don’t suggest we cross that bridge!
Going there feels like certain death.
I want a promotion, not a funeral.
Merely looking at the Necropolis had already crushed their spirits. As silence swallowed the entire team, Sergey casually stepped forward.
“What are you doing, Sergey!”
“My friend said it would be safe as long as I have this.”
He held out a small skull fragment. The undead guarding the bridge immediately snapped to attention and saluted.
— Clatter. We greet the guest of the great Supreme Master.
“Supreme Master?”
The Master will soon arrive to greet you. Please wait a moment.
The moment the undead finished speaking, blue light flooded the sky. Several Bone Drakes flew toward the bridge.
“Ah, it’s you. Skull-face.”
Sergey waved playfully. It was the same undead he had seen during the Paris operation. Ark, mounted atop a Bone Drake, swept his gaze across the investigation team while radiating blue ghostly energy.
Clack. Clack.
Elite undead began marching out of the island across the ice bridge—Hell Knights, Death Knights, Dullahan, and many more. Hundreds of undead possessing at least Platinum-level power revealed themselves. Nor was that all. Magic-type undead such as Dark Hoods and Black Wizards took up positions along the castle walls.
Andrey’s face turned deathly pale.
T-this is the power of a single individual?!
If these undead decided to attack the investigation team, how long could they possibly last?
An hour?
No—they would likely be annihilated in under a minute.
The difference in power was overwhelming. If that Arch Lich Lord harbored any ill intentions…
“W-we’ve seen enough. The investigation can end here.”
“What? I wanted to take a look inside the castle.”
“Sergey, I will not interfere with your personal actions, but I have many state affairs to attend to, so I must return immediately.”
Andrey climbed into the vehicle without looking back. He quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, terrified someone might notice.