Alex, the captain of the 3rd Unit of the Starnassila Knight Order, felt like he was on the verge of madness from urgency, anxiety, impatience, nervousness, and despair.
The capital of the duke's territory, Terabaon, was in more chaos than ever before.
Far more numerous and powerful enemies than anticipated.
Damage that grew larger with every passing moment.
The agonized screams echoing everywhere and the streets dyed red with blood.
Stamina and mana depleting rapidly.
And so on, and so on.
There were many reasons for his negative emotions, but the biggest source of stress right now was none other than the commander.
⚙ COMMAND TRANSMISSION ⚙-What? You're not bringing any mages or priests? Are you out of your minds? Puhaha... fuck, just chant for death already~ Hurry and bring them. We'll move in groups of 6, or 7 including a priest.
The frivolous, bored voice echoed in his ears.
It was the voice of Starnassila Alzen, the infamous wastrel and drunkard known to everyone in Terabaon.
⚙ COMMAND TRANSMISSION ⚙-No! Lord Alzen! The mages have depleted their mana and can't cast spells! Bringing them would just be a burden! -Bullshit. Fine, I get it—you know nothing about mages. And mana depletion? So what? Does that end their careers? Pathetic... This is an order. You heard your father, right? Full authority is mine. Obey before I get nasty. Or just die. -Ah, no... ugh, fine, mages aside, splitting the units is really dangerous! There are too many enemies! If we don't stick together to boost defense and firepower...! -You fucking idiot! Just listen! Hey, you bastard! Is His Grace's word shit to you!? If I say scatter, you scatter! Are you defying orders!? -...No, sir. -That's right, fuck! You'll do it anyway, so quit bitching!! Move, now! -Yes, sir.
"Haaah...!"
With the 1st Unit captain, Bernel Daiel—the one with the most experience and rank, thus the strongest voice—silenced, Alex could only let out a deep sigh.
He had no knowledge or experience of battle, let alone warfare, so how he ended up with full command was beyond comprehension.
⚙ COMMAND TRANSMISSION ⚙-Gulp! Phew... Hey, you maggots. You hear all that? Grab mages ASAP and keep them with you. Unless you wanna die. Priests or clerics too, if you can. -Lord Alzen, the church has its own chain of command—we can't order them. -That's why I said if you can! Fuck! You're Bernel Daiel, 1st Unit captain!? Always nitpicking, you bastard! We'll settle this after the war, fucker!
"Haaaaah..."
Alex let out a sigh from the depths of his gut and gestured to his subordinate.
"...Hey, bring the mages."
"Pardon? Mages?"
"No backtalk. Bring them. We'll move in groups of 6 including mages... so 6 each. Oh, and priests if possible!"
"Understood!"
It was an order he truly hated, one clearly doomed to fail, but Alex intended to follow it faithfully nonetheless.
No, he had no choice.
The army was a place where you followed orders, period.
Ignoring the commander's orders in wartime and acting on your own judgment? That made it no better than a ragtag band of thugs.
It was the act of an idiot without the basics.
Of course, that didn't mean he wanted to die pointlessly from a stupid order... but Alex was fiercely loyal.
Even if it came from a wastrel drunk with no war experience, it was still from a member of the Duke's Family.
So all he could do was hope Alzen learned and grew from the knights' deaths.
...That was Alex's thinking, but in truth, the biggest weight in his heart was a single sentence from Starnassila Urtega.
The order to entrust full authority to Starnassila Alzen and obey faithfully.
That one sentence made everything else irrelevant.
The other knights likely felt the same.
Who would dare defy a direct order from that man? Alex was certain no such person existed in the Knight Order.
The continent's strongest knight, dragon slayer, great head of the Duke's Family. If he entrusted it, there must be a reason. So they just had to obey.
"Got them!"
"Good work."
Alex praised his subordinate for somehow bringing even the exact number of clerics, then slowly rose and looked over his men.
They weren't mere subordinates—they were comrades and brothers-in-arms he'd shared hardships with for years.
Thus, he knew their personalities and values intimately.
He'd even assembled the unit from those who meshed well with him.
"Let's go, lads! No cowards here scared of dying, right!? Let's go give it a shot!"
"Puhahaha! Hell yeah! What's there to fear but death!"
"For the Duke's Family! For Starnassila!!"
Hearing their resounding voices—mostly from commoner origins—made his eyes sting, but he hid it, drew his sword, and mounted his horse.
They'd rested enough; time to fight again.
"Um... what should we do...?"
The mages and clerics, suddenly dragged into unfamiliar territory and feeling left out, were simply pulled onto horses without a word.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The battles raged across Terabaon, from the duke's castle outer walls to everywhere else.
With over 300,000 residents, the massive city faced simultaneous attacks from tens of thousands of undead and magical beasts, causing enormous damage.
Bad enough already, but these undead and beasts were grotesquely abnormal and far stronger than usual, so the casualties only mounted as time passed.
Of course, individuals rivaling the Starnassila Knights were exceedingly rare.
The Order—each knight meticulously trained in mana cultivation, swordsmanship secrets, systematic drills, and elixirs to unlock their full potential over years—was indisputably the continent's strongest elite force.
Yet, guarding the entire city with just over 600 knights was impossible, and even if the undead and beasts were weaker, they were only two or three tiers below the knights. Overwhelming numbers couldn't be swept away.
Occasional overwhelmingly powerful ones mixed in meant no room for carelessness or relaxation.
Moreover, while ten thousand regular soldiers, hundreds of adventurers and mercenaries aided evacuations and formed thick formations around the castle to hold the undead, the foes—far stronger than soldiers but weaker than knights—kept pouring in. Even with walls, breach was inevitable.
In short, Terabaon's situation was beyond worst—pure despair.
Then Starnassila Alzen took full command of the Knight Order, so their plunge into frustration and thoughts of death wasn't surprising.
But it didn't take long for the negativity to flip to awe and respect.
⚔ COMMAND FEED ⚔-Priorities again: 1st, protect/evacuate civilians. 2nd, destroy black magic circles/altars. 3rd, exterminate undead. Burn it into your skulls. -Gave you all magic circle locations? That's why I spread the forces—nearby squads handle them. What? Repeat? You fucking maggot...! -Civilians secured? Check hair and blood color. Doppelganger means altar in the disguised house. Destroy it. -23rd Squad to Block 5, Section 1: Massive ambush point—watch underground. Mage can detect. -11th Squad, Section 5 Block 3: No cavalry charges, idiot. Don't overheat aura amplifiers—clear flanks first. -You muscleheads! How many times: defense first? You lack flexibility and adaptability, so prioritize defense from the start. -Longarms leap between buildings targeting heads/backs. Bigfoots kick debris with leg strength. Moles slash from underground or grab feet. Stingers shoot bone spikes from range. Hunters stealth-assassinate suicidally. Gastons spew poison mist. That many threats, and you want offense first? Use your heads—or die alone after a few kills. -Use aura amplifiers efficiently. That armor cheap? It's packed with magic and alchemy artifacts. Protect joints/eyes—that's enough. -Watch approaches to Section 7 Block 3, Section 10 Block 14, Section 4 Block 8. Likely ambushes. -Undead with swollen necks charging madly? Keep distance—it's a suicide bomber. -Night falling. Time for wraiths, banshees, specters. Got clerics? Have them cast basic holy spell 'Holy Light.' It'll last till end. -Special enhanced entity in Section 9 Block 14—sending nearby knights. Stall only. -Section 1 maggots! Castle and soldiers forming lines there decorative? Overwhelmed? Dump on them. -Doppelganger in Section 2 Block 3 house. Enter, smash basement altar, report. -80th Squad to Section 3 Block 5, 71st to Section 3 Block 4, 33rd to Section 8 Block 6. Move! Injured? Stay put then. Your unsupported deaths ain't my problem. -99th Squad cleanup too slow. Unnamed variant? Why mention now, moron! Describe! Hmm... Meatball. Eyes popping out are weak points—rotate and wait. -38th, 22nd Squads to Section 13 Block 6—support 99th.
"Huuuh..."
Alex could only marvel at Alzen's divine command stream bombarding his ears at incredible speed.
He'd gone in expecting death, but Alzen efficiently deployed 600 knights into 120 squads, forewarning ambushes and stealths like a prophet, detailing mutant weaknesses—no way to lose.
Even mages and clerics—thought burdens—pulled their weight.
Mana-sensitive mages detected undead in skies, underground, buildings like living radars. Clerics' holy magic, undead's bane, disrupted and weakened them, easing fights.
Never dreaming Alzen had such talent, Alex repeatedly gasped in admiration, feeling awe and respect surging.
"As expected of his blood... We might actually survive."
Two hours under Alzen's command, zero knight fatalities.
Injuries yes, but given enemy scale/strength, near-miraculous.
"Kkiggruk. Kkiruruk!"
"Kieee! Kiiyee!"
"...Hmm?"
Then, Alex sensed something off from the undead.
No hesitation—he activated the comm artifact and reported.
⚙ COMMAND TRANSMISSION ⚙-13th Squad, Section 8 Block 21: Odd vibe from undead. -Odd vibe? What, undead throwing a party?
Alzen's words crystallized it; Alex murmured in awe.
⚙ COMMAND TRANSMISSION ⚙-...Yes, spot on. Forming ranks: close defense, melee attackers, ranged. Like an actual formation. -Yeah? Hmm... Retreat. -Pardon? -13th Squad, retreat. Max speed to castle for rest. -...Roger. Retreating.
"Retreat! Fall back!"
Seemingly winnable, yet ordered to retreat—baffling, but now fully trusting Alzen, Alex turned his horse without question.
Despite slowed speed from secured civilians, the ranked undead merely watched, not charging.
A chill ran down his spine at their un-undead-like calm gazes; Alex gripped his weapon tightly without realizing.