Chapter 72
Chapter 72
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: The Opened Gates
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One of the warriors peered out through the gaps in the thorn bushes and shouted toward the inside of the fortress wall.
"They're lining up another group of unarmed ones."
Rakrak said to his adjutant, Quezl.
"What do you make of it?"
"I don't know. Maybe they're trying to soften the hill's slope. From what we've observed, vampires can just bite the necks of other races to increase their forces more easily than others, but they can't do it indefinitely. Those are probably slaves."
Quezl had been the chieftain of a Lizardman tribe that resisted Rakrak to the very end on the peninsula.
But after defeat, he was swayed by Rakrak's vision, and his tribe was absorbed into the Black Scale tribe without heavy losses. Now Quezl bore black scales as well.
Rakrak said,
"Even slaves shouldn't be treated like that."
"I agree, but the vampires might see them as less than slaves."
"Less than?"
"Livestock."
"Livestock."
"Yes. Don't we discard excess rations ourselves? They probably stuffed themselves at the old Satyros village, and now from this mountain fortress through Automaton City to Orazn, they're aiming for quick battles. Spare food is useless..."
"That's not the only reason, Quezl."
Quezl turned to look at Rakrak.
Rakrak said,
"Do you know why the nations of this continent don't like Lizardmen?"
"Yes. Until recently, they saw us as monsters."
"I hear our great general did a fine job. Traveling between Dan Yeom and the enemy lands, facing many vampires. Now it's spreading—not just Dan Yeom and the enemy, but Asbestos, Golden Eye, and Mangul too—that Lizardmen will drive off the vampires. That Black Scale will triumph over White Fang."
"Ah."
At that moment, slaves came running toward the fortress wall.
Shooting unarmed people could sap warriors' morale.
But Rakrak gave no special orders, and the fortress commander signaled to fire as usual.
Archers hidden behind the thorn bushes quickly loosed arrows and ducked back.
One slave didn't die instantly and screamed.
As the screams continued, the commander himself took up a bow and silenced the slave.
Quezl said to Rakrak,
"I see what you mean. They're making us shoot the slaves who pin their hopes on us."
"Exactly."
"We can't open the gates to take them in. So those slaves will feel betrayed by us. That'll make controlling the rest easier. Vampires could spark more rebellion by eating slaves outright, but convincing them there's no hope leads to despair. Clever."
"Not quite."
"Pardon?"
Rakrak chuckled and said,
"That's why you lost to me."
Quezl stared blankly, not grasping Rakrak's meaning.
The fortress commander above called to Rakrak,
"Lord Rakrak, they're lining up a third group of unarmed soldiers. ...Shall we keep firing?"
"Hold."
"...Pardon? Ah, understood."
At those words, Quezl caught on and urgently said,
"Wait, Lord Rakrak. We can't. What if they're vampires, not slaves? Their hands look bound, but maybe not. They could be hiding weapons."
"That's why we shot the first two groups dead. Besides, don't we have a way to tell vampires?"
"Silver, you mean? But even the lowest vampires sometimes feel little pain."
"Quezl, are you saying even lowly vampires scare you?"
Quezl clenched his fist.
"Don't insult me. This isn't about my courage. Even if we risk it, opening the gates now saves maybe a dozen!"
"Open your eyes wider, Quezl. You're quick with numbers and logical, but your imagination is lacking—you can't see far."
As Quezl moved to argue, his eyes widened literally.
A swarm of blue butterflies appeared inside the fortress, spiraling gently upward.
The warriors' gazes locked on them.
Blue butterflies were surely an omen of good fortune, boosting morale.
But Rakrak and Quezl knew it wasn't just for pre-battle hype.
"The god permits it, so no objections. ...Gatekeeper. Open the gates."
"Yes!"
"Take in all the unarmed ones. Close the gates after the last enters."
"Yes!"
As the gatekeeper replied, a Halfbin dashed out the opening.
Rakrak drew the silver sword from Quezl's belt.
"Check the slaves yourself, Quezl. If they bleed from silver, they're vampires worth watching. Otherwise, they're either weak vampires or people running to us with hope."
"...Understood."
The commander atop the wall shouted,
"Lord Rakrak! They're charging!"
"Engage!"
Archers leaped up and began firing.
The commander shouted,
"A Rennar on a great weasel is heading for the gates!"
"All unarmed inside?"
"You can see through the gate crack? The Nix woman there is the last."
Rakrak told the gatekeeper,
"Close it after I enter."
"Pardon?"
Rakrak strode out without waiting, grabbed the Nix woman's hand, tossed her inside, spun, and thrust his free hand toward the charging Rennar.
The savage great weasel sensed hostility and leaped at Rakrak.
Lightning shot from Rakrak's hand.
-Boom!
Watching the Rennar vampire on the great weasel struck by lightning at the gates, Shaiven muttered,
"Ha! Close one."
Rakrak vanished inside, gates slamming shut.
The hard-won cavalry all fell to arrows.
A general knelt before Shaiven.
"My failure. I didn't think they'd really open the gates and missed the chance."
"No. I didn't expect it either. Just bad luck. No helping it. Stick to the plan."
Black Scale Lizardmen's composite bows and the high ground forced vampires to take losses.
But intel said the enemy fortress held only 2,000 troops, so numbers favored them.
'I've sieged fortresses before. Even against equal numbers.'
Shaiven trusted past experience.
"Press the advance!"
Shaiven believed vampire armies had unique strengths over others.
Diverse races.
Rennar cavalry rode aggressive great weasels.
Slower and less enduring than horses, weaker in combat than cockatoos, but the beasts were fierce predators.
Rennar horse-archers were versatile.
Kobolds raised giant moles, useless in battle.
But small size made them tricky targets for enemy archers.
On open plains, numbers were all they had, but sieges changed that.
They could pierce arrow fire, place ladders, or carry tools to ram gates.
Trolls were too big for mounts.
But immense strength compensated.
Vampirism cost regeneration, but hides were tough, bones sturdy.
If Rennar evaded with speed, Kobolds with size, Trolls tanked hits and pushed forward.
Nix and Satyros formed the core infantry.
Cavalry limited in sieges, but they shot bows and thrust spears fine.
Even as 4th-gen vampires with reduced physicals, leveraging racial traits in roles had won Shaiven victories.
'Add vampire power...'
3rd-gen captains had strength beyond their build.
Kobold captains matched Rennar, Rennar matched Nix/Satyros, those matched Trolls.
Heavier gear and weapons made unstoppable warriors.
'...Victory is certain.'
Of course, that was Shaiven's delusion.
Seong-un looked down on the battlefield, thinking,
'As expected, Shaiven doesn't know how to take a mountain fortress. Few commanders this generation have fought around one.'
The closest experience was Rakrak and his warriors, ordered to build them.
Rakrak had meticulously directed the first fortress here with Jaol, modeling the rest after it.
Jaol solved physical issues; Rakrak pondered attacker pain points.
Even after completion, mock battles with warriors.
Results? Rakrak was very satisfied.
'Quick decisive battle against a mountain fortress isn't wise.'
As Seong-un thought, the tide turned.
Troll and Rennar cavalry led the wall assault, followed by other races, Kobolds interspersed.
Good combo.
Problem after.
Arrow barrages rained from the heights; Nix and Satyros archers counterfired.
But Lizardmen composite bows outranged, and elevation dominated.
Vampires fell unilaterally before reaching base, steep slope dooming them.
Few strong arrows hit walls, but archers hid behind thorns.
Surviving Trolls and Rennar climbed.
But walls' height did more than block entry.
Warriors hurled head-sized rocks down.
Trolls' skulls crushed; great weasels' too.
Kobolds flung aside by rolling boulders killing larger foes.
No shortage of arrows or stones.
Black Scale knew enemies came, their scale.
Left: high-gen vampires.
'But even with that...'
Captains and centurions, bodies pierced by arrows, dodged rocks to reach gates.
None touched them.
'We have thunder lizards.'
-Boom!
Rakrak extended a hand; a vampire reaching the gates spewed white steam from eyes, nose, mouth, and collapsed.
Rakrak puffed incense from a censer, looking down on vampires amusedly.
Using power sparingly where needed, mental reserves seemed ample.
3,400 troops down 600 in moments.
Corpses piled at the slope base, gentling it as Shaiven hoped.
But even softer, unsure if remaining 2,800 charging could take it.
Soon, rearguard pushed soldiers hesitated, turned.
"No retreats! Execute deserters on sight!"
Shaiven's generals bellowed.
And did, beheading would-be runners.
Shaiven couldn't halt the advance.
'Understandable. Regrouping and reattacking means same front-line losses again. Now they reach the base, can't stomach that again. A better commander would admit defeat now and withdraw.'
Seong-un watched for Player Aelubi joining; seemed she'd wait till last.
'Saving strength for Shaiven's final push? Hasn't noticed rear yet.'
Seong-un eyed the vampire legion's back.
Shaiven's trials weren't over.
Shaiven raged at the stalled battle.
'Damn, what now? Tarry till night, lose all troops.'
A courier dashed up.
"Lord Shaiven! Urgent news."
"What?"
"A day's half-march away, Trolls, Satyros, and Black Scale cockatoo warriors unite pursuing us!"
"...What?"
Far.
So unnoticed.
But in dire battle, close enough.
'Withdraw? No. Too many lost; retreating invites pincer from pursuers and fortress. Can't abandon now. Must take and hold it.'
Shaiven dismissed the courier, pondered.
Suddenly, hot trickle down lip and chin.
Shaiven wiped with handback, startled.
'Nosebleed?'
First since vampirism.
Vampire hearts beat slow, dull.
'An omen? Ill.'
Shaiven sought divine will.
"Lord Shaiven! Disaster!"
Shaiven snapped at the interrupter,
"What?"
"S-sorry."
"Heard about the enemy force. Begone."
"N-no."
"What?"
"Different issue."
"What?"
"Slaves attacking soldiers."
Vampire slaves huddled bound at assigned spots.
Guards watched, but combat thinned them.
Slaves whispered past patrols.
Darkness blurred speakers, but words gripped all.
"Battle's started."
"What of those taken out?"
"Dead, probably."
"No. Not."
"Know something?"
"That guy's from the fourth group taken. Back just now. Right?"
Shadow nodded faintly.
"Yeah. Saw it."
"Saw what?"
"The gates."
"Gates?"
"Saw vampires line people up, send at Black Scale fortress."
"Gods."
"Obvious death? Even Black Scale can't sort foe from slave."
Another nod.
"First and second groups died. But third..."
"Third?"
"What happened?"
"Entered gates. Lizardmen opened them. Blue butterflies circled above, then gates opened."
Silence.
Unthinkable.
"Lie?"
"Why Lizardmen?"
"Dunno. Third all lived. Battle started, so fourth-group me returned. So I..."
The speaker stood abruptly.
"Hey, sit. What?"
"Guards there. See?"
"...I must fight. Lizardmen opened gates before enemy to save us. Stories true."
That ignited hearts' hidden, doubted hope.
The standing slave said from shadows,
"Rise."
"N-no need, right? Lizardmen fight for us."
"But vampire win, we die miserable slaves."
"Lizardmen might win?"
"Then saved as slaves. Miserable."
"...Way to avoid misery?"
"Fight like Black Scale Lizardmen. Die warriors. For those who cower."
Someone murmured,
"Right."
One by one, slaves rose.
A vampire guard turned at rustles.
"What're you doing?"
He stepped closer.
Torchlight hit; slaves lunged at him.