The Turmoil of the Age of Chaos (10)

"Forum City. That’s the stronghold city that serves as the lord’s castle for the Brant Barony. Once you get past it, the lord’s castle is right on top of you."

Robinson spoke ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as he searched through his memory. The order the Grand Lord had given was simple: ignore Rhoden, the city just ahead, and push straight into the other regions.

The word lord’s castle alone made Lena and Karin flinch. To them, the lord was the ruler and absolute sovereign of this whole area—the kind of existence they had once not even dared to look up at, back when they were nothing more than villagers in a remote frontier hamlet.

But now they were the ones who had come to strike first.

"...Not bad."

Realizing that, Lena grinned, looking oddly pleased. The lord had monopolized power and strength all this time, but even with all that power, he had never done a single thing for her when she had been struggling to survive.

He never sent soldiers to protect the unstable village. He never took revenge on the villagers who had tried to hurt her.

So to Lena, the lord was useless—and at the same time, worth devouring.

To prey on the strong, grow stronger, and evolve—that was basic common sense to Ascalas. And for Lena, who had already been completely assimilated, the lord was nothing more than prey.

"If he doesn’t have help from outside the territory, it might be doable. I couldn’t tell before, but now I can. Their armor may look impressive, but this is the frontier—soldiers and knights aren’t all that strong."

Karin, who had once been no different from Lena—powerless, tossed about by the storms of the world, and clawing her way up from the bottom—also let her eyes gleam.

It was only natural. Robinson, Lena, and Karin all fundamentally wanted greater power, and more evolution, with a fierce, almost hungry intensity.

"We attack Forum according to orders. But you’d better keep this in mind: our goal is not to take and hold the place. The moment we occupy it, we become defenders who have to protect it. That won’t do. From beginning to end, we have to remain predators and plunderers."

Robinson had, in his own way, seen through the intent of the Grand Lord who issued the command.

And when at last every force was ready to move, the immense host swept across the land without the slightest hesitation.

Starting from a single giant spider, the force had grown into something vast and numerous enough to fill the entire region. As he watched that imposing procession in a daze, Agares pointed to the two choices glowing on the screen.

"Our goal is strictly to take what we can, so number two."

"If you choose number two, the gains will certainly be greater. However, the advance will slow down, and it may give the enemy time to fortify their defenses."

"That doesn’t matter, does it? In the end, if time drags on, the only ones who lose are our enemies."

He chose number two. He did so with the attitude that even if giving up the quick and decisive approach reduced his chances of winning later battles, it didn’t matter. By then, he would simply run instead of fighting.

But if that happened, the lord’s people would suffer from having their foundations of life destroyed, and in the end the overall fighting strength of the territory would decline. There was no way they could restore damaged farmland and make up for lost population in just a few weeks, so they would be forced to continue being toyed with by his army.

"If you’ve got more to protect... then of course the losses get bigger, too. It’s the same for us, but at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠least we don’t have much to lose right now."

He gave a bitter smile and looked at the army on the screen as it began to split apart in earnest. Led by Lena, Karin, and Robinson, the Ascalas legion naturally divided into three routes and marched toward their destinations.

Another choice appeared. After a brief hesitation, he touched yes with a slightly trembling finger and erased even the last trace of mercy.

At the same time, he comforted himself that this was unavoidable. If he was going to inflict the maximum possible damage, then showing mercy in some strange, arbitrary place would only make things inefficient.

"A proper storm is about to blow through the frontier villagers who were lucky enough to avoid the chaos of the age. A fierce storm, with not a shred of mercy."

Whether he understood his feelings or not, Agares let out a quiet snort and murmured.

It’s only a game. A game for us. It’s already too late. Just think about what we can get...

Still, it did not take him ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠long to steady his wavering heart.

***

"Peace... and happiness..."

The words rumbled low from Robinson’s throat, threaded through with the harsh sound of his breathing. Tasked with leading one of the three split forces, he glared from beneath his helmet, red light burning in his eyes, and looked out at a nameless village under a cloudless blue sky and bright sunlight, utterly ordinary and unchanged.

The villagers who happened to stand in their path were going about their lives—working the fields, tending livestock, spending the day in peace. At least from this sight alone, it was impossible to tell just how chaotic the continent had become.

"We eat it. And then we grow stronger."

Robinson grinned and clenched a fist that looked as though it were clad in thick gauntlets. What he had always wanted was strength—the power to stand above anyone and everyone.

Even if countless others had to be sacrificed for it, once that power was within reach, there was no hesitation. That was what he had always been, and Ascalas’s essence had valued that desire and welcomed him into the swarm.

"Attack! All of you!"

He drew his sword and barked the order at the soldiers around him. Though he was still technically a Warrior, his preserved ego set him apart from the others of his rank.

In the next instant, Ascalas’s Minions and Warriors burst from the forest and charged like maniacs, attacking the villagers who recoiled in terror at the sight of them and fled for their lives. The massacre began without mercy.

"A beast doesn’t show mercy to its prey. It’s always putting its own life on the line."

"H-hiiik!"

"More... I want more. With this, I grow stronger. That one will favor me and grant me even greater power!"

Drunk on madness, he seized one fleeing villager by the nape of the neck and snapped it with a single violent twist. In truth, those actions were his own will—but the choice itself had already been made by a command that came before his will.

Devour everything in your path. Robinson was more than willing to obey.

"Ch-chief! They’re monsters!"

"Those bastards... could they be the ones from that terrible rumor...!"

The village, which had turned into a hellscape overnight. An old village chief rushed outside at the sound of people screaming and running for their lives, only to stare wide-eyed at something he saw.

"Aaaah... Aaaahhh!"

A wolf with grotesque tentacles sprouting from its back—its body twisting in all directions, black veins bulging over its hide—pounced on a young boy who had fallen to the ground, and with beastly speed bit through his throat, ending his life in an instant.

"They’re the monsters that attacked Rhoden!"

"We have to run!"

The village chief had frozen in place, drenched in cold sweat as he witnessed that horrifying, vicious scene with his own eyes. Just then, a young man he often spoke with grabbed the chief by the arm and tried to drag him away.

The monsters’ slaughter spared no one, man or woman, old or young. They hurt only as much as they could, without the slightest mercy. And most of the fallen victims were pierced by tentacles and devoured where they lay.

"This way... Aaagh!"

"Hiiik!"

That was when something blocked the group as they fled with the chief. They stumbled to a halt with a heavy thud, staring in terror at the massive figure that had landed directly in front of them.

"What exactly are you?"

Forced to step forward, the village chief stared at the glowing eyes within the helmet and murmured blankly. He could already sense the thick, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠murderous intent of the monsters that had ravaged the village. But this towering black knight, wrapped head to toe in heavy armor and horns, merely drew his sword in silence.

"What crime did we commit!"

"Being weak is a crime. In this reality."

"!!?"

Just as the shouting village chief pounded his chest in frustration, a rough, scraping voice spilled from within the helmet.

The chief’s eyes widened in disbelief, and he staggered back, clearly never expecting the other side to understand human speech.

"Unfortunately, that’s all there is to it."

"Ch-chief!"

In the very next moment, Robinson kicked off the ground and brought his sword down in a single slash.

There was no way they could stop him—there wasn’t a single proper fighter among them who could meet a sword head-on. The village chief, who had been wearing an expression of utter incomprehension, did not even have time to change it before the blade took his neck and sent him rolling across the ground.

You feel wronged. Angry. Afraid. But in the end, that’s all there is to it.

Then Robinson grinned and raised his sword again at the people staring at him with bloodless faces.

There was not the slightest hesitation in him. The sword and tentacles, lashed out indiscriminately, slaughtered them all in a miserable frenzy, leaving not a single survivor in the midst of those awful screams.

And this wasn’t happening in just this village.

The other units led by Lena and Karin were also ruthlessly attacking every living thing in their path. In an instant, most of the barony was engulfed in unexpected warfare.

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