Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Part 3: Reputation Work
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Hell.
The view of the fortress from atop the hill was pure hell.
To be precise, it was less a fortress and more a village ringed by barricades of moderate height. The Elstone Count had renovated most of the settlements on the frontier in this manner, turning them into makeshift field forts to protect his territory from the necromancer army.
But in the face of the enemy's overwhelming assault, it was nothing more than futile resistance.
A colossal mass of flesh woven from corpses smashed through the barricades in an instant.
Kwaaaaaang!
Skeleton soldiers poured inside and swiftly overwhelmed the defenders. Then, thousands of zombies flooded in like a tidal wave, unleashing a full-scale massacre.
Uwaaaaaah!
The villagers screamed right up until the moment they were torn apart alive by the zombie horde.
The few survivors tried to flee toward the rear of the fortress, but it was no use. The enemy's numbers were so vast that they had completely encircled the entire stronghold—there was no path of retreat left.
It was a scene like a giant slime trapping its prey inside its body and slowly dissolving it.
Ugh.
This was the fastest I'd ever regressed in all my lifetimes, so of course I'd end up witnessing this firsthand. Up until now, the fighting had always started after the necromancer army finished off the fortress.
"Prince! Please fall back! Some of the enemy is heading this way!"
Captain Dylon came running toward me from behind, shouting.
"You've advanced too far! We'll handle the fighting, so please calmly withdraw to the rear, Your Highness! We don't have much time!"
Sure enough, a portion of the necromancer army encircling the fortress had spotted us and was charging over with ferocious momentum.
Skeletons stripped down to bare bone, zombies still clinging to rotten chunks of flesh. And unspeakable horrors of undead monstrosities in terrible shapes.
Any normal person would feel their heart pounding in terror at the sight. Of course, I'd seen so many that it didn't faze me anymore. I'd even become a necromancer myself once and commanded an undead army. More than anything, compared to otherworldly monsters, this was child's play.
What really set my heart racing was the people still clinging to life inside the fortress.
I had to save them!
Every single one of them was precious if I wanted to hold off up to the 5th Wave later. So I had to hurry and rescue those people!
"Hya!"
I spurred my horse forward at once, and Dylon's panicked voice rang out behind me.
"No! Prince! Ngh! Full charge! We must protect the Prince!"
But no one could catch up to me as I acted on impulse.
I wasn't wearing heavy armor, and my weight was lighter than anyone's.
* * *
"Full charge! We must protect the Prince!"
Dylon spurred his horse for all he was worth to catch up to the charging Claude.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't overtake him. The warhorse carrying the prince raced like the wind, as if unburdened by any rider.
'What the hell is he thinking, charging ahead without even wearing armor!'
He'd assumed the prince would pull back once the enemy came into plain sight.
Instead, the prince had gone berserk and started galloping straight at them, defying all expectations.
'He seemed perfectly sane when we talked earlier... But when push comes to shove, is he just a reckless madman after all? Just like the rumors?'
Even so, it was true that a part of him felt a surge of emotion.
It was clearly the foolhardy bravado of a clueless novice.
Yet here was one of the empire's most precious figures—the prince—charging ahead into the face of those horrific foes instead of fleeing.
From the perspective of an imperial subject, could there be a more stirring sight?
Dylon desperately led his knights in pursuit of the prince, determined to protect his life and keep him from being isolated in the heart of the enemy lines.
But the path the charging prince was taking was anything but ordinary.
'The prince is dodging the approaching enemy detachments... and heading straight for the encircled fortress instead. Why?'
Thanks to that, their clash with the enemy was delayed for the moment. But if they kept on like this, they'd end up sandwiched between the main enemy force and their detachments in the worst possible scenario.
'What is he thinking? Does he plan to break through the encirclement and enter the fortress? Does he think he's a Knight Master?'
Far from a Knight Master—he lacked even the basic stamina to wear magic armor, let alone ordinary plate that offered no special effects. His frame was too small to begin with; there wasn't even armor that fit him.
Just then, one knight began racing ahead at an exceptional speed. Dylon spotted him and bellowed.
"You there! Protect the prince at all costs! Buy time until the main body catches up!"
"......"
The knight gave no reply and pursued Claude. But Claude was so fast ahead that the knight was on the verge of colliding with the main necromancer force surrounding the village before he could even catch up.
"Damn it!"
In the meantime, the main knight order had been forced to slow down, blocked by a protruding enemy detachment.
'Damn it all. The knight order's capabilities are too lacking. And I myself...'
Dylon agonized over whether to lead his separate unit in chasing after Claude or to command the main body and fight the clashing enemy detachment.
'Choosing the prince means massive casualties for the knights. Choosing the knights means the prince dies for sure. What the hell am I supposed to do?'
A life-or-death moment that would decide everyone's fate. But before Dylon could choose his own destiny, an unexpected change erupted from Claude's body as he crashed into the enemy ranks.
It was light.
* * *
Turn Undead.
One of the ultimate holy magics crowning all sacred spells.
In terms of renown, it ranked even higher than Tempest, the pinnacle of ordinary magic.
Unlike Tempest—which any Arch Wizard could cast (in fact, it was one of the requirements to become one)—Turn Undead was a special spell that even an Arch Priest, the zenith of priesthood, couldn't cast without great effort.
-Turn Undead is an ultimate holy magic that only a priest with unshakeable faith can wield after at least sixty years of devotion.
After discovering that passage in the grand temple's ancient records during my fourth regression, I'd devised a plan to revive the long-lost sacred magic known as Turn Undead, whose transmission had been broken for centuries.
Of course, sixty years was an eternity for an ordinary person—barely achievable in a lifetime.
But for me, repeating regressions, it was a challenge worth attempting.
-To master an ultimate holy magic, one must first be certain of the gods' existence, feel a connection to one's deity, and vividly envision them in the mind.
That condition was already cleared. After all, I was on a first-name basis with Roa, the god of fate and time. No one in the world could sense and affirm a god's existence better than I could.
With that firm conviction, I'd finally perfected Turn Undead at the very end of my ninth regression!
Sure, it hadn't helped much against otherworldly armies that weren't undead when it came to stopping Waves...
But that didn't matter. All that effort had been buildup for this exact moment in my final regression.
'Turn Undead.'
The moment I activated the spell, everything before my eyes was engulfed in light.
The massive ranks of skeleton soldiers surrounding the village.
The zombies and ghouls devouring human flesh and entrails regardless of life or death—all were equally wrapped in brilliant radiance.
That light was a denial of all beings that moved despite lacking life.
Denied existence, the undead could no longer maintain form. In a single instant, they crumbled away, returning to dust as if they'd never existed at all.
No explosions, no screams, no roars, no death throes.
And just like that, the entire situation resolved in a flash.
Turning my head, I saw the necromancer army detachment clashing with the knights had vanished identically. Ah, and there was Dylon in the distance, sword drawn, standing with a dazed expression.
That was exactly why I'd plunged deep into the enemy ranks.
Turn Undead was, as its name implied, a death sentence to the undead. But since it had a fixed range centered on the caster, it yielded maximum effect when unleashed right in the middle of the enemy horde.
Er... But for some reason, my legs were giving out, and my body was swaying?
"Prince!"
Meredes leaped down from her horse after catching up. I steadied my wobbling body and spurred my mount toward the fortress interior.
"Meredes! It's dangerous—fall back!"
"What just happened? Did Your Highness do something?"
Incredibly, Meredes kept pace right beside me on foot. What the—? That was scary. How was she managing this in her first time wearing magic armor?
"......I don't really know either."
"Wasn't that bombardment of light just now Your Highness's doing?"
"Yeah, it was me. But I don't know how I did it."
"Pardon?"
From here, I rolled out my prepared lines. I'd have to repeat the exact same story a ton when we got back to the palace, too.
"Seeing that horrific scene earlier... I just instinctively charged ahead. Then something surged up inside me, and the light came pouring out."
I put on an exalted expression, like someone who'd witnessed a miracle. Meredes, who had been blinking at me from inside her helmet, suddenly jerked her head forward and shouted.
"Prince! There are survivors!"
Villagers were slumped here and there throughout the fortress. Some had barely clung to life after having chunks of flesh torn off by the zombie packs.
"Prince!"
Just then, Dylon led the knight order into the fortress interior. I reined in my horse and shouted at him.
"There are still survivors in the village! Gather the wounded right now and treat them—before they die!"
"Pardon? B-But that is..."
From his expression alone, I could tell Dylon wanted to demand an explanation. Instead, he scanned the surroundings to assess the situation.
"This is bad. We were mobilized in such a rush that no priests were assigned to our unit."
"What?"
"We can handle minor wounds with medicine for emergency treatment, but those severe cases..."
Ah, right. Our unit didn't have any priests.
Normally, each knight order included about twenty dispatched priests. This was just another of Jess's schemes to screw me over.
Damn it! What now?
"......Then bring them to me!"
This part was unplanned, but no helping it. I dismounted, then ran toward a nearby man whose arms had been badly mangled, shouting as I went.
"I can heal them! Sort the severely wounded and bring them all to me!"
With that, I summoned a transparent glow in my left hand and pressed it directly to the man's wounds.
"K-Kraaak!"
'Healing, and Anti Poison.'
Blood immediately stopped flowing from the wounds as flesh began to regenerate, and the poison from the undead fangs was purified at the same time. Dylon, who had rushed over to observe, stiffened up and barked orders before he could even process what he'd seen.
"Knight order! Hear me! Search the village immediately and check for wounded! Select those in critical condition and bring them here! Now! Every second counts! We need to save as many villagers as possible! Hurry!"