Episode 156. March of the Dead (3)
In the Marquisate of Esperanza, there existed a 5th-tier Mage as an elder, and the marquis's second son was a 4th-tier Mage as well.
From a young age, Calia had naturally been exposed to various kinds of magic, so high-tier spells were not unfamiliar to her.
Yet even she could not help but be astonished.
A blazing ray that annihilated the Undead it touched, a power incomparably greater than any 4th-tier elemental magic.
That could only mean, surely.
'He's not a 4th-tier Mage...?'
His exact realm was unknown.
But whatever it was, this magic was by no means on the level of the 4th tier.
Be it synthetic magic or concentrated magic, it was the same.
If a 4th-tier spell were truly like this, the existence of Mages would hold a status beyond comparison to what it did now.
Calia glanced back.
Haille of the White Crest Order, a 4th-tier intermediate Fire Mage.
One of the knights responsible for destructive firepower, her hands gripped her staff tightly, her eyes trembling violently.
"C, c,
A synthetic flame spell that only Mages capable of Triple Casting could wield.
Though composed of lower 4th-tier and 5th-tier spells, the computation load was enormous, a spell so difficult that even a gifted Mage required at least minutes of concentration to barely manifest it.
Yet he had cast it in barely over ten seconds.
A calculation capacity far beyond common sense.
"Impossible... impossible...!"
Haille shivered in fear, muttering.
The knights were murmuring in awe at the destructive force, while the other Mages stared at Verden with dazed, bewildered eyes.
This alone proved that the fire magic just cast was nothing ordinary.
Verden spoke casually.
"The path is open."
"Ah, well... good, good work."
Calia shook her head, clearing her thoughts.
His magic had exceeded expectations, but this was no time to dwell on it. Whatever questions arose could be answered later.
Recomposing herself, Calia pointed her white blade forward, the murmuring knights immediately regaining their focus and taking position.
"Charge!"
At Calia's signal, the warhorses thundered forward.
Their speed surged, the once-gentle wind now rushing harshly against them.
As the Undead horde drew closer, a white helm encased Calia's head, one of the effects of her armor.
Dududududu!
Calia's order raced down the path Verden had carved, the Undead staggering forward, barely spared from the aftermath.
Slash! Crunch!
True to the name of the White Crest Order, knights clad in white armor proved formidable.
The Undead that had gathered with such effort were no match, heads severed with each pass, bodies crushed beneath trampling hooves.
Then, from within the mist, a massive gray bulk emerged.
A variant of the corpse golem, the 'Bone Golem.'
Unlike the rotting corpse golem, it was formed of hundreds of bone fragments, clattering as it moved toward the knights.
Beside it, three Undead riders mounted on skeletal steeds charged ferociously.
Verden prepared to unleash magic, but Calia stopped him.
"You've cast powerful spells already, don't overstrain yourself, leave them to us."
"...Understood."
After a moment's hesitation, Verden agreed.
Of course, he wasn't tired in the slightest, but in a group, the commander's command was paramount, acting freely would not be proper.
'Besides, I wish to see the skill of Calia and her knights.'
Thus Verden obediently followed her order.
Calia tilted her head slightly.
"Vespa, take down the Bone Golem."
"Yes, Lady Calia."
At her command, Calia accelerated, Vespa with a massive shield and another knight following behind.
As if on cue, Haille began her calculations, soon a crimson spear launched from her metal staff.
Kwa-gwagwang!
Flames exploded, the Bone Golem staggering back.
Struck by a weakness attribute, the damage was severe, cracks spreading across its form beyond the impact site. Vespa and the knight, aura surging, leveled their shields sharply and charged, smashing both its legs in a single strike.
Then the Mages' spells followed, silencing the golem completely.
Meanwhile, Calia alone faced the three Undead riders.
As she gathered her qi, white aura enveloped her blade, while the Undead raised their decayed spears.
They clashed.
A single flash, Calia's blade on the right as she passed to the left, the bodies of the three Undead riders split in half, even the skull-steeds' heads severed.
Calia, who had cut down the obstacle in an instant, and Vespa's group adjusted speed and rejoined formation.
'Formidable.'
Calia's confidence was justified.
This Undead horde could not slow the knights' advance in the slightest, whether supported by Verden or not.
Dense fog blanketed the national cemetery.
Thanks to Calia and the White Crest Order, they advanced without a single loss.
At last, breaking through the Undead horde,
The mausoleum at the center emerged from the mist.
***
They had arrived at the central mausoleum.
For the knights, who had long fought together, no signal was needed, upon reaching the building, each swiftly moved to perform their assigned roles.
The knights' Mage erected a wall, blocking sight, then sprinkled holy water to imbue it with faint sacred power, a barrier to prevent the Undead from approaching.
Two knights, scouts, leapt from their steeds and approached the entrance, silencing their steps, expanding their senses to search within.
The only entrance to the lower level lay here, making the presence of traps highly likely.
'...There it is.'
One knight looked to the ceiling.
Though not clearly visible, something was sensed.
An Undead with concealment ability, the 'Hunker.'
Though it never strayed from its designated area, once the boundary was crossed it would scatter bone needles from its body.
The bones themselves carried a paralytic toxin, making the trap extremely troublesome.
The two knights raised their bows.
Each nocked three arrows, drawing hard.
──Pwak!
A total of six arrows scattered wide.
Direct hits to the skulls, the Hunkers fell to the ground, their bodies shattering upon impact.
The knights stepped over their corpses.
Carefully, they inspected the mausoleum entrance once more, no further traps remained.
Scouting complete, they stepped back outside.
"It's clear, Lady Calia."
Calia nodded and gestured.
Verden and the knights guided their horses inside the entrance.
Once more
Their movements, precise and systematic as machines.
Verden recalled the time he had trained with Count Rodenmeyer's Rodron Order during a rescue mission,
Judging from that experience, the overall standard of the White Crest Order was at least a step above the Rodron knights.
Everyone dismounted.
At Calia's direction, the knights quickly regrouped by squad.
There were three entrances to the first level.
Additionally, forces were needed to guard both the mausoleum entrance and the warhorses, so the knights were reorganized into four squads.
Calia's 1st squad numbered five, including herself.
Two Mages including Verden, one shield knight, and one knight serving as scout made up its composition.
Calia glanced at her squad, more precisely at Verden, and asked,
"You must have consumed quite a bit of magic power with that last spell, will you be fine without taking a mana potion?"
"I will be fine."
"Mm... I see."
Calia accepted without further comment.
After all, when they had first met, he had suppressed a 4th-tier Mage with sheer mana coercion. Even if she didn't know the exact details, she had long known he carried an extraordinary amount of magic power.
'Though even so, I never imagined he could cast such magic.'
Calia turned her head and called out to the Mage beside Verden.
"Toren, you will support the 3rd squad."
"Yes, Lady Calia."
Toren left the 1st squad.
As a result, Calia's squad numbered four.
Though smaller than the others, it was a rational choice. The magic she had witnessed from Verden was far too powerful, and he possessed the reserves of magic power to sustain it.
Bringing along another Mage would have been an excessive allocation of force.
Calia stood at the forefront, gazing at the knights.
"You are all well-versed in the mission, so I will not repeat myself, however, remember this one thing."
Her words pierced their ears.
"No matter what happens, do not die. That is all."
The knights raised their swords in unison.
Calia too lifted her blade, crimson eyes gleaming.
"From this moment, we scour the mausoleum. Save for the 4th squad who will guard the entrance, the rest of you, I will see you at the center of the second level. Now, scatter."
***
On a grassy hill beneath the evening sunset.
Standing at its center, Rimanen closed his eyes, savoring the scent of nature, the faint trace of life soon to wither away.
As he lingered, a black Mage approached.
"Lord Rimanen, Calia has led the knights toward the national cemetery."
"Earlier than expected."
Rimanen slowly opened his eyes.
White Steel Calia.
She dared to oppose the Glory of the Dead, though merely a marquis's child, one of a mere kingdom.
Admirable, yes.
They had succeeded in delaying, however slightly, what Rimanen had thought would end smoothly. True to the name White Steel, her judgment and decisiveness were indeed competent.
But of what use was that?
Whether one slept in a chamber, or swung a blade in desperate resistance, the result was the same, death remained unchanged.
"How fleeting it all is."
With a sigh, Rimanen drew forth a scroll.
Untying its cord, he unfurled it with both hands, the magical runes upon it bursting into radiant glow.
The black Mage beside him gasped.
"T, that is of the 7th tier...!"
"It was personally crafted by the 'First Servant' who serves the Great Undead."
The black Mage shivered, bowing deeply.
Overwhelmed by inexpressible reverence, he could not lift his head.
With a faint smile, Rimanen began to recite the characters embedded in the scroll.
───Whoooosh!
Air currents twisted, fierce winds sweeping across the meadow.
A chilling force pressed upon the surroundings, the grass bathed in the sunset rippling violently.
And then, uninvited guests arrived.
"You there, the two of you!"
Two soldiers in the armor of the kingdom.
Regular patrolmen, calling up from the foot of the hill.
"The sun is setting! The wind grows cold, and curfew is near, you must head back at once!"
"If you need, we can let you ride behind us!"
The black Mage moved to strike them down, but Rimanen's eyes conveyed otherwise, that it was meaningless.
Receiving no reply, the two soldiers tilted their heads.
"What, can't they hear us?"
"Seems like it, ugh, and why is the wind suddenly like this? Gives me the chills."
One soldier rubbed his arm, uneasy.
From the slope, their figures above could not be clearly seen. The leading soldier sighed, taking up his spear, dismounting.
"You're climbing up?"
"I must, it feels wrong to leave them here, what if goblins or Orcs kill them?"
"Mm... fair point. Damn, why'd they have to be on a high hill, now we can't ride up."
The other soldier grumbled as he too dismounted.
Driving stakes into the ground, they tethered their horses, then climbed up. The soil was slippery, forcing them to brace with their hands to make the ascent.
"Phew."
One soldier exhaled, lifting his head.
Strange people indeed, one looking suspicious, the other muttering over some paper.
Hardly seemed like bandits.
'Perhaps they're mentally unsound?'
That could be.
Otherwise, who would linger atop a hill at such an hour?
The soldier approached, saying,
"Come, it's not too late, let us take you to the nearest village..."
"No, it is too late."
"...What?"
Whooosh.
The sun vanished, night fell, the crimson horizon swallowed by darkness, the eerie atmosphere deepening.
"H, huh?"
"Why are my hands...."
Though they tried to resist, their bodies trembled.
Fear.
Instinct perceived death before reason could.
At last, Rimanen completed his preparation, unleashing the spell.
7th-tier black magic.
Saaaaaaa!
The vast meadow darkened, drenched in black.
A world bereft of color. One soldier, sensing wrong too late, stumbled back, lost footing, and rolled down the hill.
"Hey! Are you alright!"
"Ugh... lucky, no serious injuries."
It was then.
Crack.
White bone burst from the ground, seizing his face.
"Huh?"
Then dragged him below.
No scream, no sound, the soldier was gone, a fountain of crimson bursting in his place.
"Hi, hiiiiiik!"
The other soldier collapsed in terror.
He turned his head, desperate to flee to where the horses were, only to freeze. The Undead that had risen from the earth were tearing the horses apart.
"Death's aura is overflowing."
"Huh?"
Rimanen pushed the soldier.
"Gyaaaaaah!"
Skeletons seized him as he tumbled down, ripping him to pieces, the blood of the living soaking the death-soaked land.
Thousands of Undead, high-rank and low-rank mingled.
At the overwhelming sight, both Rimanen and the black Mage trembled, reveling in bliss.
Rimanen commanded the dead,
"Go forth, drown the land of life in death."
For the Great Undead.
────Aaaaaaaaaaah!
The cry of the dead.
Countless Undead born in the south of the kingdom scattered in every direction.