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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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A simultaneous three-pronged attack.
The strategy worked perfectly. The cavalry drew the enemy’s attention at the main gate, the special unit diverted their forces to the south, and I, taking advantage of the weakened defenses, swooped in on my Wyvern and destroyed the gate.
As the supposedly impenetrable gates of Hamburg fortress crumbled, the panicked soldiers on the walls were thrown into disarray. The Demon Lord’s army surged through the breach like a tidal wave.
While cavalry was ineffective against fortified walls, once those walls were breached, they became an unstoppable force.
And with the mages, who could have stopped them, wiped out by my Explosion spell, there was nothing to hinder their advance.
What followed was a one-sided slaughter.
Fortresses were built for military purposes. Their design prioritized repelling external threats, leaving their interiors relatively vulnerable.
A fleeing soldier, colliding with a charging rhinoceros beastkin, had his spine crushed.
A soldier attempting to resist with his sword became a pincushion for a group of playful imps.
The spear thrust glanced off the Centaur’s armor without effect, and the spearman was swiftly impaled by a pike and dragged away.
Each demon was like a wolf among sheep.
Their combat prowess far surpassed that of ordinary humans.
Without fortifications or strategic advantages, humans couldn’t hope to stand against them.
Having returned to the sky after destroying the gate to resume my role as observer, I replenished my mana, depleted from casting Explosion, using the mana stones I had brought from the encampment. I then surveyed the reinforcements entering the fortress.
A striking figure with vibrant red hair, riding a black Cerberus, stood out among the throng.
It was Dorothea.
She was surrounded by charred corpses, not from her own magic, but from the fiery breath of her Cerberus.
If she had used her own magic, there wouldn’t even be ashes left.
I shifted my gaze to the human soldiers, scattered and fleeing like a disorganized mob, heading towards the most imposing building within the fortress.
It was likely the Margrave of Hamburg’s residence.
The building, seemingly more heavily fortified than the others, was already occupied by the surviving human soldiers, prepared to make their last stand.
It was a fortress within a fortress.
A skinheaded man with a Kaiser mustache, presumably the Margrave of Hamburg, was running around, barking orders at his soldiers.
His ability to quickly adapt his strategy amidst the chaos was a testament to his experience as a commander.
The special unit on the upper left, the main force on the lower right.
The special unit, tasked with disrupting the enemy from within, had performed even better than expected.
While some had fallen to the knights wielding aura, most had survived and were steadily reducing the number of human survivors.
The beastkin, in particular, were like assassins, lurking in the shadows between buildings before pouncing on their unsuspecting prey.
Their powerful bodies, combined with their sharp claws and teeth imbued with aura, easily tore through even armored knights.
The trolls, armed with spears and bows, would grab a human soldier by the shoulder with their sharp claws, climb to a high vantage point, and then drop them, turning warfare into a gruesome hunt.
Lightly armored soldiers were lucky if they only broke a few bones. Heavily armored knights, however, were usually crushed by their own weight.
What a gruesome bunch.
I would have used the height advantage to rain down arrows or spells.
Anyway, the special unit was doing well, so I turned my attention back to the main force.
The city streets, overrun by the rampaging cavalry led by Dorothea’s adjutant, Eva, were filled with demon soldiers looting and pillaging.
While they refrained from setting fire to the buildings, which they intended to reuse, they showed no mercy to the human soldiers.
They slaughtered them indiscriminately, whether they surrendered or fought to the death, seeing them as nothing more than mouths to feed.
It was a brutal display, but I wasn’t about to judge them.
What they were doing to the humans was no different from what humans had done to demons.
From a third-party perspective, they were all villains. There was no point in debating morality.
In times like these, the victor dictated justice.
I discarded the depleted mana stones and lowered my Wyvern’s altitude.
While I had the excuse of conserving my strength for emergencies, if I remained a passive observer, my only contribution to this battle would be destroying the gate.
And that wasn’t what I wanted.
“Hmm?”
As I swooped down on my Wyvern, I suddenly sensed a powerful surge of mana and looked up.
If it had been Dorothea, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
But the mana signature originated from the southern wall, meaning there was still a mage of at least the fifth tier within the fortress.
I thought they were all dead at the gate. Who could it be?
Whoever it was, they were clearly trying to provoke me.
And I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Dorothea, who had been heading towards the Margrave’s residence, surrounded by a large escort, suddenly changed direction.
Some of her escort followed her, while the rest continued towards the residence.
Following the lingering traces of mana, I circled the southern part of the fortress on my Wyvern and finally spotted the mage.
Standing atop a pile of slain beastkin and trolls, was an elderly gentleman with neatly combed white hair, dressed in a tailcoat and top hat, as if attending a formal party.
While he appeared old, his muscular physique and straight posture suggested he was still in his prime.
And I recognized his face.
He couldn’t not recognize me.
He was Baron Louis von Bettenndorf, one of the three Archmages of the sixth tier in the kingdom, and the Royal Advisor Mage.
His title as a mage was “Ocean,” a specialist in water magic, the natural enemy of fire mages.
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Unlike Kaldrash, who had flown directly to the scene on his Wyvern, Dorothea, delayed by her unfamiliarity with the fortress layout, arrived a little later. Seeing the elderly gentleman standing there calmly, a competitive glint appeared in her eyes.
“Well, well, look what we have here.”
The white-haired gentleman, meeting her gaze, removed his navy blue top hat and bowed politely.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
Dorothea turned to Eva, who had followed her.
“Get rid of everyone around here.”
“Pardon? But your escort…”
Dorothea snapped impatiently,
“Get out of here if you don’t want to die. That old man is a mage on par with me.”
“…Yes!”
That was all the explanation Eva needed. She quickly retreated with her escort, putting as much distance between themselves and the impending magical duel as possible.
She knew what happened when Dorothea unleashed her full power.
Click, clack
The ruby-red shoes Dorothea wore clicked against the stone pavement.
“Your name?”
Dorothea asked the much older gentleman in a condescending tone.
The gentleman chuckled and placed a hand on his chest.
“I am Louis von Bettenndorf. And what might your name be, my lady?”
“Dorothea. Dorothea Gale.”
“A lovely name.”
Baron Bettenndorf nodded and pointed his short staff at her.
“Two mages of equal standing exchanging names on the battlefield… I presume this means you accept my invitation for a duel?”
Dorothea scoffed.
“You’re such a flirt, old man.”
She patted Toto, her Cerberus, signaling for him to move away, and brushed her fiery red hair over her shoulder.
“Don’t hold back. I’ll show you the difference in our power.”
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