Death
Kale was pissed off that his leisurely life in this other world had suddenly turned into a hardcore defense game, but he still grabbed his gear. He put on his helmet, slung a massive two-handed sword over his shoulder, and stepped out. Behind him, the officers of the Mountain Guard followed with their swords drawn.
“What about Simila and Ogert?”
“They’ve already gone up to the watchtower at the main gate of the fortress.”
If those two—his old mercenary party members and mages—provided support from the watchtower, holding back the orcs would be much easier.
“Close the gates, now!”
“Orc riders! Move!”
“Everyone run! Get inside before the gates shut!”
Stepping outside, the fortress already reeked of war. Kale climbed the ramparts to adjust to the changed air, took a deep breath, and muttered to himself as if casting a spell of self-hypnosis. It was time to shed blood.
“….”
Then something black flew into his view.
“What the… why the hell do those bastards have a catapult!?”
[WHOOSH—KWA-KWANG!]
The flying boulder slammed into the main gate watchtower built into the ramparts. With a thunderous rumble, the tower collapsed helplessly. It was the very same tower Simila and Ogert had just climbed.
A few dust-covered figures crawled out from the rubble, but many more were likely buried beneath the debris.
“Fuck! Why are the orcs using catapults? You—get to the tower and check if Simila and Ogert are still alive!”
Kale moved toward the crenellations to locate the catapult when another massive rock came hurtling in.
“Get back! Over there—take cover!”
[SWOOSH—KWA-KWANG-KWANG!]
A boulder the size of a full-grown bull smashed into the fortress wall. It didn’t just embed itself—it punched straight through. The ramparts shook like an earthquake had struck. Two catapult shots were enough to crush everyone’s will to fight.
“Goddamn it! Shit, shit!”
The mountain fortress had been built sturdy specifically to hold off orcs. Kale had planned to lean against the wall and wait for reinforcements. But after just two catapult strikes, the walls were already trembling. A creeping dread told him they wouldn’t last long.
When he leaned against the crenellations to check outside, he froze solid.
It hadn’t been long since the messengers reported in, yet orc riders had already reached the walls. They were slaughtering everyone who hadn’t made it inside the gates. And behind them, two ogres were loading boulders the size of bulls into the catapult.
“They’re using ogres to fire the catapult? How is that even…”
“Th-there! O-orcs incoming!”
From the direction of the forward base, orcs came shambling forward. At a glance, there were over a thousand.
“Damn it. Bar the gates and hold as long as you can. Even if we run now, we won’t shake off those orc riders!”
The situation was clearly hopeless, but Kale wanted to believe the saying that a defending force needed five times the enemy’s numbers to win a siege. If he’d only wanted to survive, he could have abandoned his followers and fled alone. But since this was a game and he could respawn, he felt like playing the hero for once.
Courage surged through him. The adrenaline of battle seemed to flood his veins.
“The Alliance’s forces are coming! Hold the line! They will never breach these walls!”
[SWOOSH—KWA-KWANG-KWANG!]
But the perfectly aimed catapult shot punched straight through the fortress wall, turning Kale’s rallying cry into empty noise.
“Th-the wall’s breached!”
“Use the corpses of the dead to plug the hole! The orcs haven’t reached us yet! Repair the wall and destroy their catapult. Follow me!”
Kale raised his two-handed sword and charged toward the collapsed section of wall, beginning to cut down the swarming orc riders.
“Kueeeek!”
“Shriiiik!”
The enchanted greatsword delivered devastating power. Everywhere Kale’s blade swept, wolves and orcs alike were sliced in two.
“Build a barricade! Follow me to smash their catapult!”
As Kale fought off the orc riders and burst out of the fortress like a special strike team, someone watched with a grin.
“That’s right. The humans needed a hero too.”
It was Orchan, revered as the Orc Lord.
Orchan pointed with his finger, carefully directing his forces so the newly built ogre catapult wouldn’t be destroyed. At his command, champion orcs—each a head taller than the rest—stepped forward with shields and weapons. Behind them came goblins and kobolds carrying nets.
“For the Horde! Lok’tar Ogar!”
The champion orcs led a small force and charged straight at Kale, who was heading for the catapult.
[BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!]
Yasuke Yamashiki stared at the monitor flashing red warning windows. Even though he knew he had to move immediately, he remained frozen. He knew exactly what those alarms and alerts meant—another tester had died.
If he felt no guilt or anxiety, he wouldn’t be human. Yasuke bit his lip hard, eyes darting around as he tried desperately to look away.
The others knew what was happening too, but no one moved. They simply stared at different monitors, pretending to be busy.
Then, as if nothing had happened, the shrill red alarm vanished. The warning window on the monitor disappeared as well.
“Looks like Kale died inside the game.”
Hearing that someone had died—and knowing it was partly because of you—naturally brought guilt. But to keep it from showing, Yasuke took a deep breath and spoke.
“Contact Major General Michael and send the response team. Offer our deepest condolences. Where are the other users?”
“They’re spread out, but all of them are moving toward the Akran Mountains.”
A map appeared on the massive 100-inch screen. Ten icons blinked and flickered across it.
“Do you know strategy and tactics or not? Does it make any sense to fight a pitched battle against orcs hiding in the mountains? If we gather on the plains for a grand battle, they’ll wreak havoc in every direction.”
“On the contrary, it is you who lacks strategic understanding. We are not simply subjugating wandering orcs. We must fight an army of over thirty thousand orcs led by an Orc Lord!”
“That is still a subjugation! And once autumn comes, the orcs will scatter everywhere to stockpile food for winter. The correct approach is to hunt down those scattered groups and reduce their numbers gradually.”
“Haha. I never said we were only hunting wandering orc bands.”
“All orcs are the same. If we wait, they’ll naturally disperse and we can defeat them piecemeal. I don’t understand why you insist on a grand battle. Do you simply want to pile up achievements from a big victory?”
Patrick was sick of the endless power struggles that filled the conference room every day.
Marquis Holvolt, who opposed the grand battle, was a classic brave general appointed by the emperor. He wanted to command the imperial army based on his experience fighting orcs so far. In contrast, Military Minister Marquis Marcel had his own plans and sought a decisive victory in a grand battle.
Because of this, command over the Splain Empire’s forty thousand troops and the allied force of forty thousand from the Six Kingdoms, elves, dwarves, gnomes, and beastmen had yet to be decided. The two sides continued to clash over authority.
But a messenger’s urgent report forced everyone to fall silent.
“Messenger has arrived! The Akran Mountain Guard’s fortress has been captured by the orcs!”
The report that hundreds of guards and villagers had died meant they could no longer waste time arguing over command.
“Our army will attack the Akran Mountains from the west. The Six Kingdoms’ forces and the Alliance will be led by the Military Minister.”
Marquis Marcel thought splitting the army wasn’t a bad idea. If they attacked from both east and west, the orcs would also have to divide their forces, weakening them overall.
“Then we shall divide command. I wish you victory.”
“And to you as well.”
“So. Lieutenant Polman. What character were you assigned?”
“Yes, sir. As ordered, I kept rolling until I got sixty total stats. My class is Water Mage.”
“Excellent! You hit the maximum. Good class too. Which region?”
“Looks like near the capital of the Orman Kingdom.”
“Orman Kingdom—that’s the south.”
According to the data Elon Busker provided, the early survival rate there was low, but since the southern Orman Kingdom was peaceful, it should be fine.
On the map, the locations of users heading toward the Akran Mountains were displayed.
“By the way, General. Do we really have to stick to eight-hour login limits? When I logged in, I didn’t feel particularly tired or anything.”
“The reason for strict login times is because there are religious orders targeting people who connect to the other world. If you stay connected longer than eight hours, your connection data gets exposed. That’s why we enforce the limit.”
“But since every order is pouring their forces into this war, couldn’t they be too busy to pay attention to us?”
“Hm. That’s true as well.”
“Also, I understand Sergeant Taylor, who was selected earlier, became an archer. Why not use me as bait to lure out those religious fanatics instead?”
“Target the orders?”
Major General Michael was dumbfounded by Lieutenant Polman’s absurd suggestion. But the lieutenant’s next words made him reconsider.
“If traveling to the other world is possible through God Busker’s power, couldn’t we also go using the power of Tablon, the God of Balance who targets us?”
Major General Michael had assumed one could only reach the other world through the capsules Elon Busker created and God Busker’s power. It was a fixed mindset. But if gods could send people there, then other gods’ powers could do the same.
Realizing they didn’t have to rely solely on Elon Busker, Major General Michael made his decision.
“Make careful contact with the priests of Tablon, the God of Balance who hunts otherworld visitors. Work with Sergeant Taylor to find out exactly why they’re killing connectors. Do it safely.”
“Understood. I’ll also attempt contact with other orders besides Tablon’s.”
“Sniff… My Lord! Thanks to the valiant efforts of the warriors who fought for the Horde, we have captured every village belonging to the Yutrang territory. Shrik…”
“We now have sufficient supplies of females. Hehe. Our goblins are very satisfied.”
“However, the humans haven’t harvested yet, so food is still scarce. Keng keng. To survive the winter, we need more to eat. Keng keng.”
Before the reporting orcs, goblins, and kobolds stood Orchan, lounging atop several human women. Since he was playing as an orc, he was roleplaying like a madman. And living up to the phrase “wine, women, and song,” he drank heavily and could lay beautiful human women between his legs, so his mood was excellent.
But the hero-tier humans he’d seen during the fortress capture still left him feeling uneasy.
“What are the humans doing? Why aren’t they launching a proper counterattack?”
“It’s only because my Lord moves the warriors so easily, shrik, that it seems the humans aren’t resisting. They are fighting back in their own way, shrik.”
An orc shaman covered in hanging bones and round stones stepped forward from beside Orchan. The others nodded in agreement.
“It only appears that way because my Lord is so outstanding. Sniff sniff.”
“Exactly.”
“My Lord may not know this, but leading with armored ogres and trolls followed by champions charging in is something that has happened before. However, using orc riders to prevent those champions from being surrounded and blocking human attacks—that is something only my Lord has done.”
“That’s right. Kekeng. You should have seen the humans’ faces when our orc riders appeared from behind just as they tried to surround and counterattack us. They were so confused. Keh keh keh. It felt amazing. Keng keng keng keng.”
Everyone laughed, delighted by the memory of the humans’ panicked expressions.
“But a large human army is apparently advancing from both sides of the mountain range. We must deal with the armies coming from both directions.”
“That’s easy. The humans probably think that if they split their attack, we’ll split our forces too. We won’t. We’ll strike one side first.”
“Shrik. I can already picture the humans’ shocked faces. Sniff sniff sniff.”
“Lok’tar Ogar!”