The Black Wave Crashes
Why is the North called a cursed land? The barren climate surely plays its part, but the real reason lies in the magic beast raids.
Waves of magic beasts surging in every quarter, or triggered by some specific cause.
I'd heard the Empire used to send support often back in the day, but we couldn't count on that for the last five years.
The Emperor was stricken with some mysterious illness, teetering on the edge of death. He hadn't even named an official heir.
Which meant bloodshed was sweeping the capital.
The successor candidates were too busy shoring up their power bases and scheming to spare a thought for far-off threats.
That's when the count extended his hand to the beleaguered North.
"Hmmm..."
So we had to handle it ourselves.
We couldn't afford to wait around for the Empire to stabilize someday. The North, facing the border head-on, was in no position for that.
The magic beast wave.
The completion of our first solution was drawing near.
Guided arrows that filter out human mana signatures, striking only magic beasts.
Using levitation magic to correct for gravity, they track the target's movement vector and adjust trajectory in real time.
The mana at the arrowhead carries the same polarity as human waves.
Coulomb's law. After a few tweaks, the arrows fired from the turrets now generated repulsive fields.
Just like same poles on magnets repelling each other—these guided arrows would never hit humans.
That was the result of about a hundred tests on Kian.
"Is this right?"
"Oh! Looking good!"
I'd opposed it, but Kian insisted on taking a hit from an arrow made of natural mana just once.
No choice. He got bedridden for two days from the impact of the low-power shot.
I opposed it. For real.
But when Kian opened his eyes and said, 'I get it now,' he could finally copy my magic circles, even if just a little.
"That equation's wrong."
"Ah. Thank you."
He'd copy my magic circles for the wall installations, and I'd watch from behind, correcting mistakes.
The endless turret installations progressed one by one, and in about a week, they were all done.
...This is convenient.
It was straight-up auto-farming.
Bringing in a grad student-level guy was the right call, after all.
Even voluntary slaves look happy, so that's fine, right?
Kian's face stayed lit up with a smile the whole time we installed the magic turrets.
Beyond the walls, the magic beasts were multiplying, no longer just one or two eyeing us—they were coming in packs.
-Gruk.
Of course, they got vaporized by the already-installed turrets as they approached.
"Professor."
"Yeah?"
"Could you fire just one more arrow at me?"
Mages are all crazy, every last one.
Desperation gleamed in Kian's eyes as he tried to blackmail me into self-harm.
"No way. The magic beast wave's coming soon, remember?"
"Understood..."
I averted my eyes from his lingering, droplet-like regret.
"Next one, quick!"
Just two or three left.
Until the outer walls were fully fortified.
The wind picked up.
Not the usual bone-chilling northern gale.
This was thicker, laced with demonic energy.
A crimson dust cloud loomed on the horizon.
Beyond the barrier. The signal of incoming magic beasts.
"Men!"
Amid the rumbling earth, the knight commander—whom Ruen called the 'enemy of the hut'—raised his voice.
"Wolves of the North, lift your heads!"
The soldiers' gazes locked onto him, swallowing dryly.
Eyes filled with fear.
"You all know what the Empire calls our North."
Cursed land.
A phrase that clawed at the hearts of northerners, of every soldier.
"Do you see that black tide surging toward us? That's the source—devouring our fathers for centuries, making our sisters weep, mocking our lands!"
The knight commander scanned the ranks of soldiers lined up below the walls, meeting each face.
Some still frozen in tension, others gripping spears with resolve.
"Forget the Empire! Silence the gossips! Cast the Emperor from your minds!"
He leaped from the wall, landing at the front rank.
"We are warriors of the North. The North is our land!!"
The ear-splitting cries of the now-close magic beasts echoed—like screams, like roars.
"We shall never die. Even in death, we guard this soil."
The knight commander swung his sword horizontally, roaring like a lion.
"Shields together! All hands, prepare for battle!"
"For the North—!!"
The soldiers' response drowned out the beasts' cries.
"Oh..."
I nearly clapped, but Kian stopped me.
Atop the wall, in the watchtower.
Me, Kian, and Arwen watched the magic beasts' advance from there.
Less a horde of beasts, more a single wave.
"More than... usual..."
I turned at the murmur. Arwen's hands trembled.
Just a girl in her early twenties. Never properly trained in battle by her father, the previous grand duke.
She'd tried to act composed, but couldn't fully hide the tension.
"It's fine."
No reply. The beasts' roar was already too loud.
The ground shook.
The walls trembled with it. The watchtower atop them too.
-Grrr... Kraaaak!!
An unformed roar.
The charging beasts slammed into the walls.
Stone dust erupted where the walls held.
Soldiers' arrows flew toward the beasts.
And with that, my turrets hummed to life.
A split-second later, they voraciously sucked in natural mana, forging mana arrows.
Multicolored mana arrows, larger than my body, glowing like my irises.
-Thump.
My heart pounded.
Brain knew it was do-or-die, but my chest raced anyway.
My creation. The moment of truth.
The arrows launched at invisible speeds, striking true.
—KABOOOM!!!
A hundred turrets unleashed on different packs.
A wide-area bombardment.
When the dust cleared, massive craters remained—but no traces of beasts.
The horde's numbers had visibly thinned.
"Ruen...!"
Arwen gasped in awe.
But no time to respond.
"Hmm..."
Something needed tweaking.
First time seeing them this close—approaching, dying.
That dark red aura they emitted... felt familiar.
"See that?"
"What?"
I pointed, but Kian couldn't see it.
"Hmm......"
Energy. Recyclable mana?
As I leaped from the tower to the wall, Kian and Arwen grabbed my sleeves.
"Where are you going?!"
"Stay safe. It'll hold smooth from here anyway."
Kian was right, of course.
Ten seconds after the first volley, turrets were already reloading, aiming anew.
"It's fine."
But that's that, and this is this.
Can't ignore potential.
I magicked my sleeves free and landed on the wall.
Up close, it was clearer.
Even thinned out, the beasts battered the walls undeterred.
"Nice view."
Balancing on the shaking wall, I turned thought to action.
Gathered natural mana.
First stroke of the magic circle in midair.
Energy recovery system—mana reclamation.
Another volley fired mid-focus, blasting a pack.
The massive heat and beast aura washed over me.
A thrilling shiver ran through my body; my lips twitched upward.
Exhilarating.
Capture that wasted heat and aura in the magic circle.
My judgment was spot-on.
Even briefly stored, the sheer volume was immeasurable.
Then, redirect that stored energy back to the turrets.
Overclock.
Mana voltage surged in the turrets.
—Whirrr.
Rough mana waves hummed.
Next arrows formed swiftly, twice the prior size.
—KABRROOOOM!!!!
The bombardment rained beyond the walls.