Ch.115115. Revenge Expedition (4)

In truth, seeing such a scene, it was certainly right to stop Persha.

Their objective was simply to retrieve this battle standard according to the revelation. In terms of following orders, fleeing from that army and returning would be the correct choice.

However, none of the expedition members—neither Priestess Vermel, veteran sergeant Azkalan, nor even Erik, who was essentially an inquisitor despite not being mid-tier—

Because they felt something ineffably sublime, and because they knew that Persha’s seemingly reckless action was part of some transcendent will.

The remaining expedition members could only watch from behind as Persha walked forward.

Meanwhile, Persha, who was advancing with this somewhat melancholic atmosphere, soon attached the axe he was holding in his other hand to his belt.

Then, holding the battle standard high in both hands, he walked forward proudly, step by step…

The light breaking through the clouds and shining upon the standard advanced along with him as he marched forward, and even the approaching green army seemed to sense something, as they flinched toward him, barely able to look at him directly.

And at this moment, when everyone on the battlefield was focused on him.

After walking back down the rather steep hill of corpses, Persha thrust the flag he had been holding high into the ground with all his might, and proclaimed in a mysteriously loud voice, like a prophet announcing some momentous truth.

[It is time for atonement! For the bleeding God of Vengeance!!!]

As Persha’s battle cry echoed in all directions, suddenly sacred light began to flash at his sides and behind him, and from within that sacred and beautiful radiance… figures in the shape of humans wearing armor began to emerge, step by step.

They wore black armor.

They were clad in full-body armor that anyone could see was expensive, yet strangely devoid of any decorations, despite the common belief of this era that such equipment should be ornately adorned.

The only decoration was the pattern engraved on one side of the battle standard, and they each held different weapons, moving with feral motions.

Axes made up the largest proportion of their weapons, but they also carried hammers, swords, maces, and numerous other armaments.

However, all their equipment, which seemed specialized for close combat rather than formation fighting, was surrounded by a faint but noticeably flickering “holy fire.”

These beings in black armor that Persha had summoned were his comrades and family—the Holy Assault Squad, a total of 89 fanatics.

But it didn’t end there.

[Brothers! You serve the King in Red beyond death!]

With those words, he thrust down the battle standard, and this time, the beings that appeared beside him… embodied the meaning of serving “beyond death.”

They had various appearances.

Some were barely more than rioters with clubs, while others wore simple light armor.

Some used crude but sturdy equipment, and some even retained the size and appearance of the Holy Assault Squad.

However, they all shared translucent bodies reminiscent of ghosts, with visible skeletons beneath, and bodies and weapons burning with black flames.

These were former members of the Holy Assault Squad who had died during training, or minor criminals who had begged to join the Holy Assault Squad after death, as well as the few deceased members of the Holy Assault Squad who had returned to the mortal realm.

They might not have become heroes, but they were fanatical warriors burning with the desire for atonement.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

Thus, they revealed their hatred toward those disgusting No-blood ones, stomping their feet in unison, their gazes fixed on the raised battle standard.

[CHAAAARGE───!!!]

[[[[[[[[[[[[[UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAA───!!!!]]]]]]]]]]]]]]

As Persha swung the battle standard forward with that cry, the Holy Assault Squad of past and present became one massive force and surged toward the enemy.

※ ※ ※

The horde of corrupted green bodies was being overwhelmed and pushed back by the dark red fanatics.

These beings, whose rot and decay went beyond just their flesh—especially the plague-zombies who made up the majority—naturally did not retreat. No, they could not retreat.

The plague-zombies, humans who had mutated after being infected with the zombie plague—a so-called “blessing”—lost all intelligence the moment they were infected, becoming worse than beasts.

This applied equally to the green warriors—the “soldiers of plague”—who, despite having a sense of self, could not use it to move their bodies according to their own will.

They were in a position where they could only repeatedly advance forward according to the orders of mid-tier or higher commanders, such as the “Knight of Plague” present on this battlefield.

Therefore, the fact that these forces, unable to retreat, were being pushed back meant that the dark red fanatics were overwhelming those green slaves of plague.

They wielded weapons wrapped in black flames of hatred or white holy fire, slicing and dicing these plague slaves who were vulnerable to flames.

It was commonplace to see plague-zombies split diagonally with a single blow, while the soldiers of plague could barely withstand a few hits thanks to their armor.

Of course, the fanatics of the Holy Assault Squad were not invincible warriors or soldiers. They sometimes suffered injuries, having parts torn off or arms severed.

However, no matter how damaged their bodies became, the Holy Assault Squad had long forgotten pain, immersed in the joy of atonement according to my design.

In particular, the most impressive Holy Assault Squad member I saw continued to swing his weapon instinctively despite having about half his head vaporized.

This was the clearest demonstration of the difference between “slaves” and “fanatics.”

Of course, not all followers of “Plague” Marus Area were slaves of plague, the most representative example being the “Knight of Plague” who commanded that green horde.

The Knight of Plague was a mid-tier warrior who could handle aura, who chose to follow the Plague God of his own will, receiving the power to control plague and special equipment in return for his obedience.

And one such Knight of Plague engaged the Holy Assault Squad directly at the front line, yet was unable to make progress toward victory.

The fact that the battlefield remained unchanged despite the intervention of a mid-tier warrior who could normally turn the tide single-handedly meant that… there was also a mid-tier warrior on the opposing side…

[Follow me───!!!]

That mid-tier warrior was none other than the black-armored fanatic with the aura-wrapped battle standard—Persha, who had just awakened to aura through my blessing.

His skill in using the battle standard as a weapon, from the spearhead at the tip to the fluttering flag, was artistic.

He would obscure vision with the fluttering cloth, strike with the pole, thrust or slash with the spearhead—grinding down the relatively heavy Knight of Plague.

Thus, as time passed, the plague slaves fighting the Holy Assault Squad were annihilated, with the Knight of Plague being the last to fall.

《Well, it seems I’ve won our bet.》

《…I acknowledge my defeat.》

I spoke with the Plague God, Marus Area, who had been watching the Duel-War beside me, about the outcome of our “bet.”

This “bet” was a kind of agreed-upon battle between myself and Marus Area, as the term Duel-War suggests.

We agreed that the total soul power (experience points) would be equal on both sides, and that each side would have the same number of troops under equal conditions.

And what I had to secure through this bet was quite important.

《Now, as promised by your soul, cooperate fully when the time of the end comes.》

《…I will.》

This meant acknowledging me as a kind of supreme commander at the time of the end—when the Roman Empire falls with the birth of Sodomia Gomorio Blutas.

While controlling this group of evil gods, for whom infighting and team-killing were everyday occurrences, was one goal, recruiting the Plague God would also fill my shortage of common soldiers.

The army of tens of thousands of plague-zombies accumulated over hundreds of years of patience, and the rat beastmen from the sewers who served the Plague God.

It was a condition I considered sufficient to place on the scales of the bet against a battle standard I had created with part of my soul and a vampiric dragon.