The little beastman army pressed closer and closer to Heim City. Their shouts rolled like crashing waves, surging toward the walls with deafening force.
They had no armor, crude weapons, and not a single siege engine among them.
It was hard to imagine how many lives these little beastmen would have to throw away just to breach a city's walls. They would probably have to build a road to the battlements out of their own corpses.
That was why—even for a small, remote place like Heim City—they sent tens of thousands of troops.
Maybe sheer numbers really could crush through the city's defenses.
But Hel hadn't been idle these past few days.
As the little beastmen drew near and finally reached the base of the city, Hel rose slowly from her seat. She walked up to the parapet and peered down at the seething tide below.
"Looks like it's about time."
Her crimson eyes reflected the chaos beneath her. The corners of her lips lifted into a small, wicked smile, revealing a single sharp fang—more mischievous than terrifying, like a little villainous queen from a fairy tale.
"Well then…"
Hel raised her right hand and snapped her fingers.
The crisp sound was completely drowned in the roar of the battlefield—yet the instant it rang out, glowing circles began to bloom across the ground outside Heim City.
One after another, magic arrays flared to life.
The little beastmen had no time to react before the runes beneath their feet erupted in brilliant, fiery explosions. The chain of detonations spread outward—from directly below the city walls to the far hills in the distance.
From the ramparts, it looked as though blazing tides were crashing back against the dark ocean of beastmen.
Within moments, the world outside Heim City had become a sea of fire.
But the explosions weren't the finale—they were only the overture to the inferno.
The flames born from those blasts spread rapidly, licking greedily at everything around them.
The little beastmen, covered head to toe in filthy, oily fur, were perfect kindling. A spark was enough to turn one into a rolling fireball.
And fire… fire spread fast.
There was a reason ancient generals loved the tactic of "fire attack." Fire and water had no mercy.
A lone beastman might extinguish himself by rolling on the ground or getting help—but what if everyone around him was burning? What if the very earth beneath him was aflame?
In that moment, even these battle-hardened creatures who feared no death began to despair.
They didn't fear dying—but they did fear pain.
Damn it, couldn't this demon just give us a quick death?
Of course, Hel didn't know what they were thinking, nor would she have cared if she did.
Instead, she was calmly explaining to Vivienne beside her:
"Just some first-tier Flame Array scrolls. There's only, hmm, a few billion of them, I guess. After all, the Heim family was quite well-off back in the day."
Vivienne's mouth twitched. Even her patience was wearing thin.
A few billion?
There must have been thousands of scrolls detonating out there!
A single first-tier magic scroll cost at least three gold coins. The sheer number Hel had unleashed could easily have cost over ten thousand gold.
What kind of "ordinary count's territory" could casually spend that kind of money just to set off fireworks?
…Oh, right. The Heim family.
Fair enough.
Everyone knew the Heim family had once been very rich—legendary, even. No one would ever suspect that Hel's current wealth was self-made; they'd just assume she'd unearthed another heirloom from the family vaults.
And that suited Hel perfectly.
She was careful not to reveal anything too extraordinary, lest it attract unwanted attention.
First-tier scrolls were cheap, effective, and—thanks to her own skill as a master alchemist—dirt cheap to produce. Even accounting for the cost of the elemental crystals, a single scroll only cost about one gold coin.
She'd bought the materials wholesale from the Marquis of Gold at a steep discount.
So this grand display—this sea of fire that looked like the wrath of the heavens—had actually cost her less than two thousand gold in total.
Pocket change, really, for someone sitting on a fortune of over ten million.
"My lady, you're truly… extravagant," Vivienne said dryly. Then, after a pause, added, "But by annihilating the little beastmen so quickly, we might have invited a harsher response.
"The beastmen may send more little ones—or worse, their main army.
"I've received word that one of their main forces is marching along the Mandrake Highway toward the capital. If they learn what happened here, they may divert through Ashton County to crush Heim City first.
"They won't allow an unstable threat like this to remain behind their lines."
"You make a fair point," Hel replied, her tone utterly casual. "But the Heim family does still have a tiny bit of foundation left."
Vivienne sighed helplessly. "Right… a tiny bit."
She'd really only wanted to suggest that Hel slow down—drag the fight out until reinforcements from the kingdom arrived.
But Heim City was Hel's to command. She could only offer advice, not orders.
Hel, of course, understood her concern.
But "stalling for time" wasn't even an option. Heim City only had six hundred trained soldiers. Fighting a drawn-out war against tens of thousands was pure fantasy.
So the best strategy was simple: spend money.
Money only had value when used. Unspent gold was nothing but a pretty metal gifted by nature.
And so—predictably—the problem was now that she'd won too fast.
The firestorm had wiped out the attackers almost immediately, leaving no time to delay or misdirect. It might, in fact, provoke exactly the kind of retaliation Vivienne had warned about.
But that couldn't be helped.
Hel gazed down at the sea of flames, her expression distant.
That trap—the buried scroll minefield—had now been used. Next time, the enemy would be wary.
How should she fight the next battle?
Even drawing simple first-tier scrolls took time. It wasn't difficult for an alchemist of her caliber, but producing thousands of them by hand would leave her wrist sore for days.
Her eyes drifted toward the moat below, and a sly smile crept back onto her lips.
Perhaps… there was another way.
But for now, it was best to let the flames burn out and prepare to clean the battlefield.