A War of Attrition
Raon carved a Frost Lotus through the pouring hail of steel. A blade of frost trailed in the wake of the Heavenly Sky Sword as it became a flash of silver-white.
A terrifying crash split the air.
The Frost Lotus no longer carried mere sharpness and speed. A fearsome wave of force erupted from it, and the undead horde burst apart like overripe fruit.
Even after cutting down dozens of them, he did not stop. He pressed forward, infusing the Requiem Sword with the profound principle of Revolving Heaven.
A sphere of vengeful flame spun with ferocious intensity and shot toward the undead clustered on the right.
A violent explosion bloomed, and a storm of fire surged upward. Not a single undead survived within it.
I need to cut their numbers down now.
The Archlich had stationed its strongest undead at the front to flaunt its superiority in power. Even if it drained his aura and stamina, he had to inflict fatal damage on the undead legion here and now.
Trusting in the barrage of sword aura and arrows pouring down from the ramparts, Raon stepped into the Supreme Harmony Footwork. He drove into the heart of the undead and unleashed Clear Rain with the Heavenly Sky Sword, Flower Spirit with the Requiem Sword.
The vast sword-cry of Clear Rain rolled outward, and the undead clutched their heads as if in agony. Then the fragments of flame that blanketed the air melted their skulls away.
While Raon was quite literally massacring the undead legion, a magic circle inscribed with pitch-black characters materialized above his head.
A magic circle?
It was unmistakably the Archlich's magic — the one controlling these undead.
A violet beam lanced down from the circle. Tremendous speed. He packed the Supreme Harmony Footwork into his retreating step.
The ground he had been standing on a moment ago collapsed into a pit so deep its bottom could not be seen. Not just the speed — the power itself defied imagination.
At this distance, with this much force…
At minimum, Sanggwi rank. Using magic of this caliber from the far end of the Land of Death suggested a strength that even the word Sanggwi could not adequately describe.
Should I pull back here?
He had taken as much advantage as he could, and he had come far enough that arrows and sword aura could no longer reach him. It was time to withdraw.
A second black magic circle was drawn in the sky. The characters were different from the previous spell.
"That's enough for today."
Raon waved as if mocking the Archlich who would be watching this place even now.
"See you around."
He turned his back and ran for the castle without so much as a glance behind him.
"As expected!"
Wrath nodded with deep satisfaction.
"When it comes to being an infuriating little shit, it's Raon Zieghart!"
Huh?
"This King has never seen a human as skilled at being insufferable as you. Your talent belongs not to this continent — it belongs to the Demon Realm!"
He clapped Raon on the shoulder, declaring it a talent too good to waste in the human world.
Why don't you go back there yourself.
Raon shoved the clinging Wrath aside and kicked off the earth.
A colossal explosion erupted behind him, whipping his clothes and hair. Riding that wind as if to mock the Lich further, he climbed the ramparts even faster.
"Hah…"
Raon let out a murky breath and looked down over the Land of Death.
Thoroughly wrecked.
The battle lines of the undead legion that had, only moments ago, inspired overwhelming terror in every human present had completely collapsed. They were scattered here and there like common fodder, posing no threat whatsoever.
"Raon. Super handsome."
At Runaan's call, he turned around.
"You crazy bastard!"
"That's just downright evil."
"He really is a Demon King!"
"Thank god we're not the only ones who have to put up with that attitude."
"Shame the undead can't react. If he'd pulled that on the White Blood Cult or Eden, all hell would have broken loose!"
The Light Wind Squad grinned and waved. Faces that had been deathly pale only a short while ago were flushed with returning vitality.
"Lord Raon! Thank you for your hard work!"
"That was… swordsmanship beyond anything I could put into words."
Wendy Ariane and Frika smiled and nodded as well. The shadows had left both of their faces.
"As expected of the White Sword Dragon. Truly living up to the name."
Veinder whistled, looking as leisurely as if they were colleagues.
"Woooow! The pride of our Annex!"
"Is that even a compliment?"
"……"
Yua and Julius beamed and threw their arms up in celebration. Mark Goetten quietly bowed his head, as if to say he had done well.
Raon smiled as he looked over the brightened eyes of the Light Wind Squad, the House Guard, and the rangers.
It worked perfectly.
He had not merely driven the undead back — the fighting spirit atop the walls had soared to its peak. Every result he had wanted had come to pass.
"If everyone can just hold on a little longer…"
He was about to offer a final word of hope when a magic circle bloomed in the air above the ramparts.
I knew it would come.
If the Archlich could cast magic even among a gathering of undead, it could naturally trigger one here as well. He had expected as much.
I have to cut this one cleanly.
Even an Archlich would not be able to fling magic around freely at this distance. He needed to slice it apart for certain and show that using magic would only cost it more than it gained.
The instant a violet beam was about to pour from the magic circle, he launched the Requiem Sword like a flying dagger.
The blade, its Magic Disruption Field fully engaged, split both the Archlich's spell and the magic circle itself.
The circle the Archlich had summoned crumbled like a dry fallen leaf, never even managing to unleash its magic.
"It doesn't matter what a skull-head does from that far away."
Raon caught the falling Requiem Sword with an easy hand. He curled his lips into a sneer and sent it toward the Archlich who would be watching.
This is the last card.
If this provocation landed and the Archlich revealed itself in person, this battle was as good as won.
But if it doesn't come out, and it keeps grinding us down in a war of attrition…
Then things could get difficult.
The western extremity that should no longer be called the Swamp of Death, but the Land of Death.
The three pillars that had been submerged in the marsh had revealed their original forms, and several scars — as if carved by a sword — were etched into them.
The Archlich, blue flames guttering in its empty eye sockets, and the Death Knight leaned their backs against the pillars and peered into an enormous glass orb.
"So that is the Zieghart of this era."
The Archlich twitched a finger as it studied Raon reflected in the orb.
"He still carries that vicious energy. It is like looking at him."
"Yes. Unlike Arian, power still dwells in the bloodline."
The Death Knight nodded, pressing its two fists together.
"It is not merely martial force. That one knows how to win a war."
The Archlich lowered the hem of its robe and stroked the staff in its hand.
It even makes magic dangerous to use carelessly.
The young descendant of Zieghart had casually torn through both spell and magic circle with a small dagger. Long-range magic consumed vast amounts of mana and mental strength. Because they could not tell how the magic had been broken, they could not attack recklessly.
"That said, the drain on his stamina and aura will have been worse than it looked. The same will be true of the other humans."
"Then we strike at once."
The Death Knight nodded and rested a hand on the longsword at its hip.
"Reform the lines. I will take the vanguard and bring that wall down myself."
"Understood. Immediately…"
"No. No, you will not."
Just as the two highest-ranking undead were about to take the field themselves, Manghongwi appeared behind them.
"That is exactly what he wants."
Even as Manghongwi spoke, the Death Knight and the Archlich did not so much as think of turning around. They simply stood there, vacant.
"Right now, he is hoping you will come to him."
He drew an orb from inside his robe. The sphere that had once been as clear as spring water was now more than half stained black.
"You should not go to him. You should draw him here. That is how you change history."
Manghongwi spoke in a dry, even voice and held the orb forward.
"I will give you a little help."
Black smoke rose from the orb and seeped into the Death Knight and the Archlich.
A deep rumble rolled through the earth. The power the two undead possessed surged violently, and the death energy rising from the Land of Death exhaled a stench even more vicious than before.
"Rise."
The Death Knight and the Archlich lifted their hands.
A massive tremor shook the Land of Death as if it might collapse, and the undead that had died before the walls began to revive, forming ranks once more.
"Yes."
Manghongwi stroked the orb — now stained a little blacker — and nodded.
Blue fire surged in the eye sockets of the Archlich mask he wore.
"I will tell you when to draw your swords."
Raon bit down hard on his lip as he watched the lower-rank undead rolling in like a tide.
Looks like the one in charge actually has a brain.
Two days had passed since he had descended the walls, slaughtered the undead, and provoked the Archlich. He had expected the enraged creatures to come in person. Instead, for two full days, they had sent only low- and mid-rank undead, grinding the defenders down in a war of attrition.
For five days, undead corpses had piled up and piled up again, until they had formed a low hill that could almost reach the ramparts.
And that is not even the real problem.
Raon clenched his jaw and looked back.
"Kh…"
"Damn it! When does this end? Even ants don't come at you like this!"
"I want to sleep…"
Burren, Marta, and Runaan were biting their lips, their faces deathly pale. It was not fear. After five days of fighting without proper sleep or rest, their stamina and mental strength had reached their limits.
"I-is this actually going to end?"
"They're trying to dry us out and kill us…"
"Damn it! You walking corpses!"
"Please just stop coming!"
The swordsmen of the Light Wind Squad were even more exhausted than their squad leaders, their hands trembling on their sword hilts. Many of them had their eyelids half-lowered, having had neither sleep nor any real rest.
"Urgh…"
"J-just a little sleep…"
"There's no end to it."
With the Light Wind Squad in that state, the House Guard were clutching their knees or leaning against the walls as if they had fainted, and many of the rangers had collapsed from exhaustion.
Raon frowned as he looked at the swordsmen and rangers sitting slumped, at their hands.
It can't be helped.
Even without direct combat, the rangers and swordsmen had blood-soaked bandages wrapped around their hands. They had not let go of their weapons for five days. If anything, it was impressive they had held out this well.
"Th-this place is hell…"
Raon approached Dorian, who had clipped clothespins to his eyelids from his Belly Pouch to keep them open.
"Dorian. Once they receive it, they don't send word that they got it?"
"Unfortunately, no. It's strictly one-way, so…"
Dorian pulled the clothespins off his eyes and shook his head.
"All we can do is wait."
"I see."
Raon nodded and took his place at the wall again. Even as he thought, the undead were slowly drawing closer.
I need another approach now…
"Think about yourself first."
Wrath emerged from the bracelet, his face crumpled.
"The others at least caught catnaps. You haven't slept in five days!"
He told Raon to get some rest already and threw a round little fist at him.
Are you worried about me?
"W-worried? Hardly! That body of yours will soon belong to This King, so do not go wasting it!"
Wrath shook his head rapidly, insisting that was not it at all.
Right. You did sneak some wrath in there when we used the Silver Aurora earlier.
"H-how did you…"
How could I not know.
Raon smiled faintly. Wrath had helped activate the Silver Aurora and had not reclaimed the wrath he had pushed into it. He had probably left it there on purpose, intending to use it as a trap later — but Raon had already known.
"Nngh! This King truly does not want to help you!"
Anyway, thanks for worrying.
Raon patted Wrath's cotton-candy hair and caught his breath.
When this war is over, I'll buy you everything you want to eat.
He was not just saying it. He had not slept properly, had not been able to eat in peace, and he wanted a real meal and a real night's rest himself.
"R-really?"
Yeah.
"What has gotten into you…"
I wouldn't call it a trade exactly, but I'll take your wrath. You can restore my aura and stamina, right?
"Aura is possible. Wounds as well. But mental strength is beyond This King."
Mental strength…
"Right now you have not slept a wink, and you have been fighting while carrying this entire castle. Your mental strength has been scraped down to the bone. That, at least, This King can do nothing about."
Wrath frowned as he went on.
"Even if your stamina and aura fill back up, you cannot fight properly if your mental strength is lacking."
He's right.
It was true. He could recover aura little by little through cultivation, but mental strength would not return. Even knowing that, all he could do now was endure.
Raon was letting out a thin sigh when Wendy Ariane approached.
"Lord Raon."
Wendy lifted her head with an awkward smile.
"P-perhaps we should abandon the castle and withdraw."
Her lips trembled as she spoke the words.
"Do you mean that?"
Wendy Ariane was a true martial artist who had swung her sword alone to save her house even when the entirety of Arian had been rotting and falling apart. For someone of her admirable mental fortitude to suggest abandoning the castle and fleeing meant the crisis was that severe.
"Yes. People matter more than a castle."
She nodded as if she had already made up her mind.
"I am sorry, but no."
Raon slowly shook his head.
"That is exactly what they are aiming for."
This castle, built by the first head of House Arian, had the effect of blocking death energy. If the castle fell, or if they went outside, ordinary people would be unable to withstand the death energy rising from the earth and would all die, and even the swordsmen and rangers would be hunted down by undead who never tired.
Is that man still off training somewhere?
Just as even Rimer rose unbidden in his frustration, Frika, the ranger captain who had gone to rest, came running.
"W-we have a serious problem!"
Frika wiped the cold sweat running down his forehead and continued.
"Wigen Arian and the executives have fled!"
"What?"
"I don't know how they opened the prison doors, but they took hostages and escaped over the eastern wall!"
"Ah…"
Wendy Ariane bit her nails, looking as if she had fallen into despair.
"That…"
Raon clenched his fist as he looked at Frika.
I knew, but still…
To think he was that much of a piece of trash. Even after being ousted, to flee while knowing his own house was in crisis — it was a filthiness Raon could scarcely believe.
"Who helped them? Veinder?"
"It was not me."
Veinder, who had come up behind Frika, waved a hand.
"I was resting in my quarters, quiet as a dead mouse. Frika can vouch for that."
"Yes…"
Frika nodded, confirming it was true.
"He was a slippery one, but even so, with the family head having fled, the mood is bad. People are saying we should all run…"
He ground his teeth, saying that because of Wigen and the executives, the unified spirit of the house had been shattered.
"I imagine so."
Raon nodded.
No matter how worthless he was, he was still the family head.
Even if Wendy had become the new head, it was only temporary. With a creature like Wigen, who had lived like a wriggling loach, having gone so far as to run, it was only natural that people's morale would collapse.
"I'll wreck that pig bastard somehow!"
Marta could not hold back and slammed her fist into the floor.
"Hah…"
Raon was letting out a sigh of frustration when a powerful surge of death energy rose behind him.
Don't tell me.
He turned, and black clouds were boiling up.
A deep rumble shook the ground. As if they had sensed the unrest inside the castle, the mid- and high-rank undead army that had been hiding behind the zombies and skeletons began to move again.
A piercing shriek cut the air.
It began with the specters floating in the sky. They exhaled black-stained breath, targeting the rangers stationed at the far end of the right-hand wall.
"Runaan!"
"Mm."
At Raon's call, Runaan, who had been standing near the right wall, kicked off the ground. The instant her foot landed, a barrier of frost stretched out and rose before the rangers.
A heavy crash rang out as the breath of death energy and the wall of cold collided and dissipated together.
The moment the wall shattered, Runaan leapt into the air and unfolded her second sword. A frost strike, fast yet supple, split the bodies of two specters that had been trying to retreat in half.
The undead, however, paid no mind to whether the specters lived or died. They charged at full force.
The earth shook. Ghouls and skeleton warriors plunged in from the center. A pack of Dullahans charged like a knightly order, and on the left, three Death Knights lit their crimson eyes.
And that was not all. On the right, Liches and skeleton mages appeared and began weaving magic — a mage corps they had been hiding until now.
"Marta. Burren."
Raon bit his lip and pointed at the mage corps.
"Stop that magic however you can."
"As you command."
"You're giving us too easy a job!"
Despite their words, both of them raised their aura with grim, sunken expressions.
A series of detonations tore the air. The Liches and skeleton mages loosed spells thick with death energy. Burren and Marta fired sword aura imbued with the power of wind and earth, shooting the magic down in midair. The aftershocks of the explosions, however, rolled into the walls, opening cracks large and small.
"My lady, please continue protecting the entire wall! Sir Mark, I will leave the ones pushing the center to you. I will…"
Raon hurled a silver sword-strike at the pack of Dullahans charging from the left. Behind the slender thread of sword aura, ganggi dripping with killing intent burst forth — a long-range variant of Silver Sword Dream.
A chilling cutting sound, and six Dullahans were split in half, tumbling across the ground.
"I will take the big ones."
This time he stepped into the Supreme Harmony Footwork toward the right. A chimera zombie, as if a hundred zombies had been packed together, was charging in.
I cannot let that thing get close.
He adjusted his grip and loosed a sword aura of extreme speed. But before the blue-white aura could land, the chimera zombie's body swelled like a balloon.
The chimera zombie, bloating as if wind were being pumped into it, detonated its own flesh before the sword aura could touch it. Black-stained meat and bone flew toward the walls. A suicide attack — a corpse explosion.
Raon planted a foot on the listing wall and loosened the strength in the hand that held the Heavenly Sky Sword. A white shadow unfurled, erasing the darkness, and melted every scrap of bone and flesh that had been shot at the ramparts. White Shadow Flash. A swordsmanship that erased all energy, wiping away the aftermath of the explosion.
Two magic circles bloomed in the air. Without even time to exhale, he kicked off the wall. Just as black-stained spears were about to fire from the circles, he brought down the Requiem Sword, wrapped in ganggi.
The Magic Disruption Field engaged, splitting the descending magic spears and the magic circles at once.
"Hah…"
Raon let out a ragged breath and lowered his gaze. There were simply too many of them, and they were reinforced undead at that. Plenty were punching through the sword aura and digging inward.
Hm?
The sword aura was still flying, but the arrows that had been falling without end had stopped. He looked back. The rangers were clutching their bows, their hands trembling.
Out of arrows…
In a way, it was only natural. Wendy had steeled herself and restocked their supplies, but no one had expected a battle of this scale. They had held out this long only because the townspeople had stepped forward to make arrows.
"Raise your spears!"
At Raon's shout, the rangers gripped short spears and moved to the front of the wall.
"Throw!"
"Uaaaaaah!"
Their skill was lacking, but there were so many undead that the short spears still punched into the skulls of ghouls and skeleton warriors. The undead advance, however, did not stop.
Raon raised flames with the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames and fashioned ice spears from Glacia's frost, hurling them down — but it was too much for one person to hold back the entire undead force.
Faster than I expected, but there is no choice!
Raon turned his gaze to the rangers in charge of supplies.
"Pour the holy water!"
At those words, the rangers opened the lids of the holy water they had been hoarding and poured it into salt water. They mixed it quickly and dumped it down from the walls.
But the undead did not stop even after being drenched in holy water. If anything, they ran faster and began hammering the walls.
A grinding crunch. The cracks in the walls widened under the thick death energy clinging to the undead.
"Hah!"
"W-what…"
"H-holy water doesn't work?"
"This doesn't make any sense!"
At the bizarre sight of undead ignoring holy water and pressing in, the rangers and swordsmen trembled so hard their jaws shook.
"I-I think that is fake."
Wendy frowned and waved a hand.
"Fake?"
"The former family head said he was selling something from the warehouse and made an enormous amount of money. I think that was the real holy water."
She bit her lip, saying she had never imagined he would sell the stockpiled holy water.
"Ah…"
"F-fake holy water…"
"Is this even possible?"
At the news that the holy water was fake, the morale on the walls sank even further. Shadows rose not only on the rangers' faces, but on the swordsmen's as well.
"Dorian!"
"It's an essential, so I have some! But…"
Dorian set down his sword and reached into his Belly Pouch. When he pulled his hand back out, it held five expensive-looking glass bottles.
"These are expensive, thoughhh!"
He mixed the holy water and salt water in a watering can used for flowers and sprinkled it down from the wall.
A chorus of shrieks. The undead that had been shoving forward like bulls even after taking spears, arrows, and sword aura screamed and began to fall back. The death energy that had been eating into the walls vanished as if wiped away by an eraser.
A black-stained beam shot from the hand of the Lich commanding the undead mage corps. Judging by the direction, it was aimed at Dorian.
Raon brought down the Requiem Sword in a reverse grip and cut the incoming magic. He descended as he was, filling the Heavenly Sky Sword with the will of fire. The instant the tip shot forward, a dragon's breath of flame poured out and burned every undead that had been approaching the walls.
In the middle of the attack, magic and arrows loosed by skeleton archers and skeleton mages came flooding in.
He cut the magic with the Requiem Sword and the arrows with the Heavenly Sky Sword — and then the sound of the left wall collapsing reached him.
He lifted his head. A Death Knight that had been hiding among the zombie horde had leapt up onto the ramparts.
Runaan closed the distance in a flash and blocked the sword that had been falling toward a ranger, but she was exhausted as well, and she was driven back at once.
Raon drew rotational force from his ankle all the way to his wrist and loosed the Heavenly Killing Dagger.
A blade thick with killing intent, carrying the formula of Flawless Flight, became a streak of light and smashed the Death Knight's skull.
"Kh…"
Raon endured the ache in his lungs and climbed back onto the wall.
This is filthy hard.
He frowned, his sword hand trembling. The holy water and the Flame Dragon Form had forced a brief retreat, but it was only buying time. This side was exhausted to the bone, and the other side's war was only just beginning.
Raon looked at the surging undead and the tightly shut castle gate, and ground his molars.
The only method left now…