"Are you finished?"
"Yeah. For all that bluster, it was a pretty pathetic bastard."
In the passage leading from the underground to the surface. Baskal, a rough-looking man climbing the stairs, clicked his tongue at the words of his subordinate waiting ahead.
At the same time, a faint metallic tang of blood began wafting up from below. It was unavoidable, considering what had just transpired down there.
"Still, it's better than nothing."
He clenched his fist. A power stronger than before writhed within it.
The power that had turned him—a mere illegal slave trader—into a warrior rivaling a knight, and ultimately elevated him to a leader commanding a force greater than any slave ring.
This power, which he believed was bestowed by a great god, was an absurd ability that allowed him to absorb the mana and strength of specific targets he personally killed.
"Find the next offering within a week. It's all part of heaven's will. You understand, right?"
"...Of course."
His subordinate bowed his head with a sly grin at the order to fetch fresh prey.
It was something they'd been doing for quite some time now. Just the number of people he'd killed in recent days numbered in the dozens.
Thanks to that, Baskal had grown stronger, and the force he led was rapidly expanding by riding the waves of this chaotic world.
'I've been chosen. I'm the herald to overturn this rotten world and usher in a new era!'
Having ascended to the castle's spire, he gazed out at his surroundings and curled his lips into a smirk.
This castle, along with the city sprawling before him—the lands once ruled by a single baron—were now his.
In truth, most of what he possessed had been seized from others, but he'd expanded his domain through his own efforts as well, and not by a small margin.
By raiding villages, toppling lords' castles, and battling monsters that sought to steal what was his.
He viewed everything he'd plundered and taken as rightful recompense. After all, both sides had staked their lives in the fight, hadn't they?
It was merely exercising the victor's rights. Stripping the losers of everything and pressing onward.
'That's just how the world is. A time of chaos.'
His ambitions and desires burned bright, but his cold-eyed grasp of reality had spurred him beyond merely living quietly as a slave trader. It wasn't just the power and divine voice that awakened within him one day.
Even before his awakening, the world had already plunged into disorder.
Kingdoms crumbling, trust between lords shattered. It was a state where anyone could upend the established order at any moment without it seeming out of place.
An era where the strong devoured the weak to survive. And for that reason, an era that could be a golden opportunity for someone.
He firmly believed it.
"Hasn't your resolve wavered yet?"
"...Just kill me."
"Still as clueless as ever. I thought a few days hanging there might change your mind."
Having devoured a fresh victim and grown a bit stronger, while replenishing his pride by surveying his achievements, Baskal headed to the dungeon beneath the lord's castle he now called home.
There, a woman with a somewhat haggard expression hung in chains from the ceiling.
"So damn stubborn. Can't face reality? Just a know-it-all with no common sense."
He sighed at the blue eyes glaring at him from her cracked, dry lips.
She was Seira Redenverk, the lady of this very lord's castle that Baskal had personally conquered. She was also the special mage he'd set his sights on.
"The world's changed. A mere slave trader you wouldn't have spared a glance at has toppled knights and seized a lord's castle. That's the proof."
He raised his voice, his eyes genuinely baffled that she couldn't understand.
A world where even the barest order had collapsed, where only the strong could claim everything through raw power.
That was the view of a man who staunchly believed it defined the current era.
"By saying that, you're admitting that if someone stronger defeats you, you'll accept whatever they do to you?"
"Exactly. That's the price of defeat."
Baskal bared his teeth in a grin at her piercing gaze.
Seeing it, she simply closed her eyes. A clear sign she wanted no more words or conversation.
'Let's see how long you hold out, you foolish bitch. If only you were prey, I'd have enjoyed you thoroughly before killing you myself.'
Baskal left her there untouched and exited the dungeon.
He was certain that once her strength ebbed away, she'd sob and beg for her life.
He'd broken more than a few strong-willed slaves in his time.
He knew countless ways to crush and break a person's spirit.
"L-Leader! No, my lord! Monsters... monsters have appeared from the northeast!"
"What nonsense is this?"
It was then that urgent news reached Baskal.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Abyssal Monsters?"
He'd heard the rumors. Monsters emerging from the vast, untamed forests in the northeast, laying waste to everything in their path.
Refugees fleeing the area had spoken in terror of true 'monsters' that devoured humans, beasts, and other monsters alike without discrimination.
"Isn't that the domain of those dumb goblins?"
Baskal snorted, recalling the goblin chieftain who had approached him seeking an alliance a few years back.
A goblin daring to propose cooperation with him, a specially chosen human.
Sure, it was taller and sharper than your average mumbling goblin, but to him, goblins were nothing more than annoying, loathsome low-tier monsters.
"What the hell are those goblin bastards doing, letting monsters invade their own front yard?"
"W-We don't know exactly. But the rangers report swarms of monsters that size roaming in packs."
Garnor, Baskal's trusted lieutenant and a former knight, spread his arms dramatically as he spoke.
He was describing the small packs of scouting Small Ants that had been spotted during preliminary reconnaissance.
But none among them realized these ants were scouts.
"From what you're saying, it sounds just like... ants scaled up in size. Giant ants? Hilarious."
Right then, a fingernail-sized ant crawling across the floor. Baskal crushed it underfoot with a smirk.
He had experience hunting magical beasts.
Surviving as an illegal slave trader wandering the wilds was something the weak could never manage.
"Don't make a fuss over a few ant swarms. Aren't we gathered here to achieve great deeds?"
He raised his voice to chide his murmuring subordinates.
Since awakening his power and resolve, he'd meticulously planned and advanced step by step.
Not a single defeat so far. And he intended to keep it that way.
"Might as well go hunt some magical beasts. Horns, hides, fur—we'll get plenty out of it."
He'd recently paused the plundering during a reorganization period to solidify his group's foundations.
Having invested that time, it was time to shake off the rust and get moving again.
Crushing a notorious beast horde would be perfect for loosening up and spreading their fame.
"My lord, look over there. Th-There's no end to them!"
"What the... so many..."
But when they approached the territory and faced the main ant army body.
Not just his men—even Baskal faltered in shock at the sheer numbers of ants already fording the stream, trampling crops, and charging ferociously.
"A-Arghhh!"
"Run! Get inside the castle!"
Swarms of insects trigger an instinctive revulsion in humans.
But when that swarm consists of massive creatures posing a clear, life-threatening danger, revulsion turns to outright terror.
At the sight of the black tide surging toward them, the residents outside the castle fell into panic, screaming as they flooded toward the gates en masse.
It was Baskal's fault—and those around him—for underestimating the threat and failing to issue an evacuation order in advance.
Even his men, who should have been controlling the crowd, were gripped by fear and desperately trying to squeeze inside first.
"You bastards, get control of this! Beat them senseless if you have to! Prepare for battle—it's war!"
In a rage, Baskal hurriedly directed his subordinates.
It was undoubtedly his responsibility for being so complacent.
If only he'd ordered more thorough scouting. If they'd spotted that massive army even a little sooner, they could have prepared properly for war.
"Don't panic. They're just numbers—no matter what, they're mere beasts!"
"B-But my lord..."
Yet quelling the chaos and taking command was also his duty.
He insisted they were no more than a herd of animals, but his men's eyes wavered.
The smallest foes were the size of large dogs.
The largest—first-stage evolved Soldier Ants—were bigger than oxen, their massive jaws powerful enough to sever a horse's neck in one bite.
"How the hell are we supposed to fight them!?"
Above all, none of them had any experience battling a mutant ant horde like this.
"Man the walls. Mages, keep them from scaling easily. Prepare oil and fire. They're beasts at heart—light them up, and they'll be too scared to approach."
Baskal racked his brain as best he could.
All while firmly believing he couldn't possibly lose to something like this.
'I've been chosen. I must fulfill that mission.'
As if no formal declaration of war was needed, the battle erupted immediately. Baskal drew his sword as well.
"No way. These monsters... they have Magic Resistance!"
But the fight went awry from the start.
It began with an archer firing a mana-infused arrow that failed to pierce a Soldier Ant's exoskeleton and ricocheted harmlessly, prompting a horrified shout.
"What's Magic Resistance?"
Magic Resistance: Basic resistance and repulsion to mana. Therefore, greater power is required to overcome foes with Magic Resistance.
He muttered blankly, and a line of explanation naturally appeared beside him.
'Convenient.'
He glanced around cautiously before draining the last of his coffee with a slurp.
The surroundings were quiet, but the screen only he could see was a whirlwind of intensity.
'I half-expected it, but thankfully, they don't seem to have the overwhelming power to crush us. Still, if we clash like this, our losses will be too great.'
Watching the two forces collide head-on at the walls, he hardened his expression.
Winning mattered, but this one battle wasn't make-or-break for everything.
There was a reason they said "Pyrrhic victory." He wanted the most efficient triumph possible.
'If only I'd sent in the Fire Ants a bit sooner. Or had them dig tunnels at least.'
Several methods came to mind, but whether the ants could comprehend and execute his hints was another matter entirely.
Regrettably, the ants' current level meant they couldn't yet grasp his suggestions properly.
"Th-These bastards are on fire, how are they..."
At the very least, though, the ants knew he desired their victory.
And so, they would simply advance for victory.
< 8 End