Published at 26th of March 2019 2:42 am

Volume 13, Chapter 4 The Siege Part 1

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Winter’s end was a long ways off, and the air was cold, though he did not feel it. That was thanks to his fur. His entire body was covered in lustrous black fur, and wearing a set of clothes on top of that would provide for excellent insulation. He would not shiver even if he wore a suit of metallic full plate armor instead.

However, he was shivering for a different reason now.

That reason was anger.

Calling that tremendous anger “wrath” would not be too far off.

A low growl escaped him — like that which a carnivorous beast would make — and he clicked his tongue in embarrassment.

For members of his race ― the Zoastia ― making animal noises was proof that they could not control their emotions; a shameful display for an adult.

However, that was only among fellow members of his species.

Anyone else who heard that growl leak from between his sharp teeth would have been trembling in fear or frozen in terror.

He turned his back on the human city which he had been staring at just now and returned to his camp.

Their supreme commander was Jaldabaoth, their ruler who wielded overwhelming might. Many races were gathered beneath him, and many pointless disputes broke out between them every day.

The forces of the Demihuman Alliance were divided into three main detachments.

The first were the 40,000 troops arrayed against the Southern Holy Kingdom’s military.

The second were the 50,000 troops responsible for managing and guarding the camps which held prisoners from the Holy Kingdom.

The third were the 10,000 troops responsible for scouting the Northern Holy Kingdom, recovering various resources, and other miscellaneous tasks.

The personnel here comprised 40,000 of the 50,000 troops allocated to managing the prison camps.

It was only natural that with such numbers in attendance their campgrounds would be bustling, yet nobody blocked his path, and he did not stop or even slow his pace.

Surely there was nobody in the world who would dare stand in the path of a massive, rolling boulder.

Nobody present dared stand in his way, given the air of dominance around him.

He walked as though he were alone in a wasteland, and soon a particularly ostentatious tent came into view.

There were demihuman soldiers standing before it, but they were not guards. They were there to heed the orders of the tent’s occupants. In other words, they were servants.

They fearfully cleared a path for him, and he savagely pulled aside the cloth hanging over its entrance, whereupon the five demihumans within immediately glared sharply at him.

The demihumans within could be counted among the top ten members of the demihuman forces, demons excepted. While he could feel the physical weight of their gazes upon him, his calm demeanor did not change in the slightest.

As a fellow member of those ten beings, he instead snorted and plopped himself down onto one of the empty seats. That said, his bestial lower body meant that taking a seat was more like lying down.

Although one of the five nodded lightly to him, he paid that person no heed as his eyes fixed firmly on the demihuman occupying the seat of honor.

Said demihuman was a being that looked like a snake that had grown arms.

The scales on its body had a wet sheen to them and threw off a bizarre riot of colors that did justice to its nickname of “Rainbow Scales.” Not only were they beautiful, their hardness was said to rival those of Dragons. In addition, it possessed high-level magic resistance and was equipped with a large shield and a suit of enchanted plate armor. When one factored in its warrior prowess as well, said being might well qualify as the toughest entity in the Abelion Hills.

This demihuman was Rokesh of the Nagarajas. He was the demihuman who had been appointed as commander of this detachment by the Demon Emperor.

Resting beside him was his favored weapon, the Trident of Desiccation which possessed a dreadful power.

“―Why aren’t we attacking yet?”

He directed the question to Rokesh in a subdued tone.

It had been a full three days since they had reached the city which the pitiful human resistance had taken over, yet not even a skirmish had broken out since then.

“...I know the human walls are troublesome, but surely they’re nothing in the face of our numbers, aren’t they?”

This was especially true for those members of the Demihuman Alliance who could completely disregard the existence of such walls. There ought to be no difficulty if said individuals were carefully managed.

“Frightened, are we?”

“Demon Claw-dono.”

A vicious expression bloomed on his ― Vijar Lajandala’s ― face as he was addressed with the title of “Demon Claw.” He swept his eyes over the other member of his species who was present before turning back towards the Nagaraja.

The title of “Demon Claw” was known throughout the foothills, and had been for almost two centuries now.

This was not because Zoastias were a long-lived race but because the title was passed down through the generations.

To him, this title was something he had inherited from his father. He knew very well that it was inappropriate for him at the moment. That was why he had to build his reputation in the upcoming series of battles. Yet, he had not been able to prove his strength ― as the inheritor of the title ― to the world so far.

Everyone he had beaten so far was weak. There had not been any who could take more than a single blow from his enchanted two-handed battleaxe, “Edge Wing.”

This state of affairs could not be allowed to continue.

He could not allow this war to end while others still knew him as a mere minion of the archfiend Jaldabaoth. He needed a chance to make a name for himself as a warrior, and now was the time.

However, Rokesh still did not intend to attack. Vijar’s dissatisfaction with that decision was why he spoke to the former in that way.

“They say the Grand King used to hold that city. Don’t tell me you’re scared just because the enemy has someone who could defeat him?”

The Grand King ― the king who had led the Bafolk to greatness.

He had been one of the top ten demihumans, like himself.

Vijar was confident that he stood on even footing with the Grand King, despite the latter’s annoying martial arts which could break weapons. Anyone who could beat the Grand King must surely be a worthy opponent.

“I’ll deal with her, so why aren’t we attacking yet?”

He could think of only one person who could defeat someone of the Grand King’s power.

It must be that female human paladin from the rumors. If what they say is true, she might have been able to beat the Grand King.

He sketched a hazy image of a paladin with a glowing sword in his mind.

“Vijar-dono. The fact that you, a commander, would say such things despite coming in late without a word of apology makes me… don’t get so excited, I know, I know.”

Rokesh waved him off in a relaxed fashion.

“My my. Ignorant chicks do make a lot of noise even when they know nothing.”

The person who was snickering just now had four arms. She was the queen of the Magilos, a woman with the moniker of “Iceflame Lightning” ― Nasrene Bert Kiuru.

Vijar wrinkled his brow.

He felt that he could beat her in a melee fight, but Nasrene was adept at magic, so he was afraid she could turn the tables on him in some unexpected way if it came to a fight. Even so, he ― as an inheritor of the name “Demon Claw” ― would not be able to face his ancestors if he meekly let someone call him a chick.

“And old hags who like to sit on their asses cause trouble for the rest of us too.”

The Magilos were quite long-lived, but she ought to have been more than halfway through her lifespan, given that Vijar had heard of her nickname throughout the hills when he was a child.

He could not tell the age of her skin when inspecting her face due to all the cosmetics she wore, but the fact that she was covering it up meant that she must have felt her age too. In addition, surely that floral fragrance surrounding her was a sign of using perfume to mask her old folks’ stench, was it not?

“―Ho.”

Nasrene narrowed her eyes and an icy chill filled the air in the tent. This was a physical, not psychological phenomenon.

“―I’m not lying, am I?”

Vijar straightened himself up as he said that. A Zoastia’s lower body was not a pretty decoration, but something which possessed a beast’s dexterity and explosive power. While his usual fighting style would have involved hunkering down for a charge in order to make full use of his physical abilities, he did not do that now. That was because he wanted to present himself as the one with the advantage, who had simply ceded the initiative to his opposition.

“This isn’t just a matter of lying, is it? I ought to teach you how to address ladies with respect. That’s also my duty as your predecessor.”

Amidst all this tension, Rokesh spoke up:

“Contain yourselves, you two. This is a war council. If the two of you continue making trouble here, I’ll have to report this to Jaldabaoth-sama.”

Now that Rokesh had brought up the name of their absolute superior, the two of them had no choice but to back down. Still, they continued glaring at each other, as though to say “This isn’t over yet,” and “You start a fight and I’ll finish it.”

“Hah… well, as someone who’s strong myself, I know you can’t really help being strong, but you two ought to know what it means to cooperate.”

“Heeheehee, you don’t have the right to comment on others either.”

A simian demihuman covered in white fur jeered at Rokesh’s grumbling with a laugh.

“Hm, that’s true. Now then, Demon Claw-dono. About your question earlier, it is not that I am afraid. The Grand King was a valiant individual, but surely everyone present is his equal, am I wrong?”

Rokesh looked to Demon Claw and Iceflame Lightning, and then to the remaining three people.

One of them was an ape-like demihuman who was covered in long white fur. He wore many protective items made of gold.

He was the king of the Stone Eaters ― Harisha Ankara.

As a superior specimen of his species, he and others like him could gain various special abilities from eating raw minerals. For instance, by eating diamonds, they could temporarily gain physical damage resistance which could only be bypassed by bludgeoning attacks. Usually, only three such abilities could be active at once, but he could stock far more than that number. That was also a reason why he was called a mutant.

Then, there was the Orthros general who had nodded to him as he had entered the tent.

He wore a suit of intricately carved armor. His equally ornate helmet and his cavalry lance lay beside him. His name was Hektowyzes Ah Rahgara.

His nod to Vijar was not out of respect for Vijar’s personal abilities, but towards the Zoastia species as a whole. That was the reason why it made Vijar unhappy.

Still, he could not simply challenge Hektowyzes to a duel to prove his strength. Certainly, Vijar would be the victor in a one-on-one fight. However, Hektowyzes had not gained fame because of his individual might, but because he was a renowned general who could triumph despite having a tenth of his opponent’s forces. The tables would be turned if it came to mass combat, and there was nothing more shameful than crowing about one’s personal strength and saying “I’m stronger than you” while knowing this. That was why Vijar had a hard time dealing with that Orthros.

The last person was the fellow member of his species, who had remained silent all this while: Muar Praksha.

Also known as “Blacksteel,” he was a ranger who was often called a shadow running through the darkness.

He was a rarity among the Zoastia, who typically took advantage of their physical gifts and fought with brute force. He used stealth, surprise, and cunning techniques as part of his fearsome assassination skills. His nickname came from his unshakable will and the fact that he would eliminate any quarry he had marked.

While he did not think he would lose to them, every person seated here would be a troublesome opponent for him in a straight fight.

“Then let’s go back to the topic of why we’re not attacking them. That would be because I received orders from Jaldabaoth-sama in the city of Rimun.”

“What’s that? Is that true?”

Vijar’s question was due to the fact that among this army of 40,000, Rokesh was the only one who had had direct contact with Jaldabaoth. By the time the others had been summoned to this city of Kalinsha, his men were already in fighting order and waiting to be deployed.

Jaldabaoth was always teleporting between multiple cities, so there were few opportunities to receive directions from him in person.

“Jaldabaoth-sama said to give the humans occupying the city several days’ time.”

“Give them time? Whatever for?”

“He said it was to frighten them. There are fewer than 10,000 people in that city. There are fewer still people among them who can fight. In contrast, all of us here can fight… how afraid do you think the humans holed up in that city will be?”

“I see… so that’s it. Jaldabaoth-sama is truly fearsome.”

“Heeheehee, indeed. That said, I do understand how you feel, Vijar-dono. The question now is how much more time we should give them?”

“No, we can decide exactly how many more days to give them. That said, we might have two months’ of rations stored up, but it would not be good to actually give them that long.”

“Is it because we still need to deal with the prisoners?”

There were only 10,000 demihumans left to manage an overwhelming number of human captives. While demihumans were stronger than humans, quantity was a quality all of its own. It was very likely that they would not be able to deal with any riots or uprisings.

“Precisely. That’s why I have gathered all of you here, in order to hash out our plans for the future. Personally, I think we can make our move after another couple of days and wrap things up. Does anyone disagree?”

None of the demihumans present ― Vijar included ― objected to him.

“All right. We attack in two days. We will continue observing them until then.”

There was the possibility the enemy might launch a counterattack, though he did not think it very likely.

“That would mean it’s about time to deal with the humans we’ve brought along, then.”

Some demihumans ate human beings. Species like those preferred fresh food. The Zoastia had no particular preference for manflesh. To them, beef and horse meat were better. However, most of them would prefer fresh human meat to beef jerky.

In contrast, Iceflame Lightning had a look of revulsion on her face. Perhaps it was because the Magilos did not eat humans, as they were visually similar to human beings.

“Heeheehee. How about killing and eating them in front of their city tomorrow. That ought to terrorize them, no?”

“An excellent idea. After that, we’ll declare that we’re attacking the next day…”

“There’s no need to press them that hard. What’ll happen if they surrender? Fighting is only fun because they have hope, and thus struggle with all their might. Nothing’s more boring than killing people who have lost the will to live.”

Vijar wanted to fight strong foes. There was no point in facing weaklings.

“Indeed. Also, there is another important point. This is an order from Jaldabaoth-sama. We must not kill them all, but let a few escape. Therefore, my plan is to kill everyone guarding the western gate ― our side ― and chase away the ones manning the eastern gate.”

“In other words, whoever’s attacking the eastern gate needs to be able to keep firm control over their men, am I right? Otherwise, it feels like it’ll end in a complete slaughter.”

After Nasrene said that, everyone’s eyes went to a single individual.

“I see… Then you won’t mind if I bring all my kin with me, then?”

“Can you leave a few as messengers?”

“Certainly, Rokesh-dono. In that case, Hektowyzes Ah Rahgara and myself will be responsible for the eastern gate.”

“After that, we need some people on the north and south walls to give them some pressure. While there’s no need to actually take those points, we ought to kill off an appropriate number of defenders there. I’d like to send some ranged fighters over…”

There were three people present who were adept at long-range combat. The person Rokesh chose from among them was the silent Zoastia.

“Muar Praksha-dono.”

“―Acknowledged.”

That was all “Blacksteel” said in reply.

“Everyone else will be on the western gate. While I don’t think there’ll be a chance for you to show your stuff, I’ll leave any strong opponents that show up there to you. After all, I need to command the entire army, so I won’t be able to make it to the frontline.”

The remaining three demihumans ― Vijar included ― all nodded their heads.

“Since we are all in agreement, we shall attack that city in two days. I hope you will all get your rest and gather your strength before the humans wail in despair.”

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