Ch.68Movement

Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

A long column of troops stretched out before me. At its head, a single knight radiated an overwhelming presence.

These were forces dispatched from Fahrenheit to punish Amurtat, followed by an endless line of supply wagons responsible for their provisions.

“Glory to Fahrenheit!”

“Long live the Grand Duke!”

The soldiers of Fahrenheit marched with high spirits, shouting battle cries.

And from a distance, Titania was watching these soldiers.

Eventually, Titania took out a communication crystal from her bosom, and soon light began to emanate from it.

“I see… I understand. Return quickly.”

-Yes, Your Highness.-

Through the communication crystal, I exchanged messages with Titania, who had returned to her role as scout commander, and received crucial information from her.

The content of the message was quite simple.

[A force of about 20,000 troops, including a Sword Master, is heading toward Amurtat.]

Simple, but chillingly terrifying.

Is this the effect of leading with the conclusion?

With 20,000 troops, we could win if we fought along the walls, but…

A Sword Master… Sword Masters are beings outside normal parameters. That monster could slice through well-built fortress walls like cutting soft tofu with a heated knife, which severely limited the strategies we could employ against them.

The strongest card I had was Ignatz, who was at the Expert-high level. That might be just enough to slow down a Sword Master. Numerically speaking, it would take about 20 Expert-high level fighters to kill a Sword Master, which meant that without those numbers, there was no way to stop one.

“Haaah…”

I took a deep breath and thought about the tactics I had used against Sword Masters during my gaming days.

The most important thing was to never allow close combat against a Sword Master.

Even low-ranking knights who hadn’t reached the Expert level could easily trample an entire unit of swordsmen. A Sword Master, who was at a much higher level, was essentially a min-maxed character who could mow down regular troops like they were nothing and slaughter conscripts like harvesting wheat.

“Hah… I must have really offended them.”

There’s a reason Marcus is nicknamed “Mr. Popularity.”

It’s truly a talent how he manages to do only things that make people hate him.

“Aide.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Is Ignatz still in training?”

“Yes, he is.”

“I see…”

As much as I hate to say it about Ignatz, he’s useless in this war.

If he can’t reach Master level, the fight won’t even be a contest. He’d just become cannon fodder and damage our troops’ morale. Even if he barely reached Master level, he’d still be a fresh Master facing a seasoned Sword Master from Fahrenheit—the outcome would be the same.

“He’s nothing but a liability.”

“B-but the knights report that his aura has become much more concentrated than before.”

“Aide.”

“Yes…?”

“No matter how much salt you add to saltwater, it will never become seawater.”

“…”

Sad but true.

This was a world ruled by superhumans, with monarchs at the top.

No matter how much technology advanced, the rule of superhumans remained firm, and that principle would never be broken in this world.

But still…

“Aide.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Don’t worry. We will win.”

*

Creak! Creak!

“Check if the ballistas and catapults are properly secured!”

The faces of the Amurtat troops inspecting the ballistas and catapults were filled with fear.

[A Master is coming]

A Sword Master.

Not just a superior swordsman, but one who bears the bold title of “Master of the Sword.”

Such a person was coming to kill them. The fact that they hadn’t deserted already made them elite in their own right.

Tremble, tremble…

But there was no way to stop their shaking limbs.

The fear of death was not something easily overcome.

Unlike Earth, wars in this world were fundamentally total wars.

This was because subjugation was virtually impossible.

The land had only one master and would not permit a second.

Therefore, even those who couldn’t wield swords couldn’t escape war. There was only one way to claim land: kill the monarch and erase the nation itself.

When a monarch dies, the core of the land stops, when the core stops, the barrier falls, and when the barrier falls, demons and monsters arrive.

If they lost this war, not only they but all 600,000 citizens of Amurtat would die.

Everyone knew this fact, which is why their hands gripping ropes, nails, and hammers were filled with strength.

Despite the approaching winter, they were sweating profusely, and the black nails were already becoming coated with a rough layer of salt.

“Work stop! Lunch time! Everyone gather around!”

And so, in the midst of frantically constructing defenses against the Master, lunch time arrived.

The soldiers gathered in small groups, and the cooks distributed one large chicken per person.

“This is a special meal from His Highness! Eat your fill and work harder afterward!”

“Yes, sir!”

Delicious food after hard labor was enough to overcome the fear of death, if only for a moment.

Although chicken was a common food, it was rare to eat a whole fried chicken from start to finish, so the soldiers began to devour their rations with satisfied smiles and voracious appetites.

As they say, even ghosts look better after a good meal. Being able to die on a full stomach was a luxury in this world.

“Lunch time over! Back to work!”

And at the commander’s order, the dynamic labor began once again.

*

Meanwhile, in the western forest, hundreds of elves were lined up, equipped with bows and longswords, wearing specially crafted leather armor.

They were all experienced scouts who had decided to engage in guerrilla warfare out of loyalty to Amurtat and Tiberius, who had provided much support to Blumen Elfium.

In response, Tiberius had provided them with leather armor that allowed for silent movement while offering good protection, as well as steel longswords and arrows.

“I’ll say it again, if you’re being tracked by a Sword Master, drop all your weapons and run at full speed. Don’t look back trying to counterattack or you’ll be done for. Your primary objective is to snipe the enemy’s supply wagons and high-ranking commanders. Understood?”

“What about traps?”

“Set as many as you can, if possible. But if you set too many, the Sword Master might come to the front. Do it in moderation.”

“Understood.”

Since elves are all female, they would be at a disadvantage in full-scale close combat, but immortal races always tend to overwhelm mortals with experience and technique.

Although they had never faced a Sword Master before, they could inflict significant losses and meaningfully delay the advance of regular troops.

“The enemy knows about us. In other words, they’ll be prepared for ambushes. If something seems off, flee immediately.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Now let’s move out.”

At Titania’s command, the elf guerrillas dispersed instantly. It would take them just three days to set up traps everywhere, contaminate water sources, and install special devices that wouldn’t react to human weight but would respond to wagon weight, destroying the carts.

Their wisdom was now being put to use—the same wisdom they had employed to regularly set traps and use poison to catch beasts, and to raid Illius caravans to obtain manufactured goods they couldn’t produce themselves.

“Haaah… a Sword Master…”

No one could guarantee whether they could kill a Sword Master or merely render them unable to fight.

The ability of a Master was to guarantee combat effectiveness even in the worst situations. If they faced one head-on, they wouldn’t even get the chance to cross swords before being dismembered in an instant.

Shudder…!

“Trembling… it’s been a long time since I felt this!”

A primal fear she hadn’t felt except when hunting bears with just a bow.

If immortal elves felt this way, what kind of fear must mortal humans feel?

Titania could finally understand why humans persecuted beings different from themselves.

Humans weren’t so narrow-minded that they couldn’t accept other beings; they were simply too weak to mingle with other beings.