Fickleness.
The establishment of the forward base proceeded smoothly.
The gnoll warriors readily volunteered as laborers, lending their strength to the construction. Sweet rewards were given in exchange for their work.
—Please come one at a time to receive your share.
Cecilia signed the words. At once, cheers erupted from the gnolls. Lined up in groups, they stepped forward and held out empty bowls.
The nuns accepted the bowls and filled them with handfuls of food before returning them. Fruits freshly grown by the Saint of Flora and dried mutton jerky—rare delicacies impossible to taste in the Demon Realm.
Drawn by the flavor, the gnoll tribe competed to join the labor effort. Thanks to the powerful gnoll warriors pitching in, construction progressed far faster than the Order Federation had planned.
'The northern defensive line is going well too.'
The wall had been fortified, making the defense line even sturdier. Heavy ballistae, consecrated silver arrows, and various supplies were all prepared.
Even if several waves of mutated abominations descended, they could defend without great difficulty.
'…But we can't relax.'
The dragon that had become an abomination.
If it personally descended south and struck here, both the Order Federation and the gnoll tribe would suffer catastrophic damage.
Knowing that, Woojin sat atop the wall every night, watching the north—like a lighthouse keeper waiting for a ship.
To be honest, this situation lay outside his calculations.
'Once the reinforcements arrived, I meant to leave the Demon Realm immediately and return to the wall-city… but things have twisted in an unexpected direction.'
It would take considerable time to complete the forward base. His plan had been to entrust regional defense to the Federation's forces and return alone to Yurgis.
With the ballistae and silver arrows in place, he had expected no major issues even if he left.
But then, out of nowhere, a dragon had appeared and tangled his plans.
He was effectively stuck. Woojin could not simply ignore it and depart.
'I bear some responsibility for this.'
The problem had arisen because he hunted the dragon before. He would have to clean up the aftermath himself.
'…I told Claire I'd be back soon… This is going to be troublesome.'
He was bound to get an earful later.
Woojin crossed his arms and let out a deep sigh. Noticing his sour mood, Braknark, who sat near the brazier, cautiously read the room.
"Um… would you like a late-night snack?"
As he spoke, Braknark held out the roasted foreleg of a deer-type magical beast. The smell was enticing enough that Woojin accepted it readily.
It had been grilled directly over the flames, leaving faint char marks on the skin. Woojin tore off the burnt bits with his fingers and took a large bite.
For magical beast meat, it was decent. Seasoned with salt, each chew released a savory burst of juices.
"You've grilled it well. Is the salt from the Order Federation?"
"Yes. It was among the supplies the humans provided."
They chatted casually while tearing into the meat. For natives of the Demon Realm, magical beast meat was a staple.
Though not particularly delicious—
It had several advantages.
It was high in energy, restoring vitality even in small amounts, and repeated consumption gradually improved physical ability. The effect was far weaker than that of an inner core, but over time it became noticeable.
In his weaker days, Woojin had scavenged the leftovers of predators to build his strength.
'For powerful magical beasts, not only the inner core but also the blood and flesh are valuable.'
Which made this situation puzzling.
'…Why didn't the Nine Roses claim the dragon's corpse?'
Back then, Woojin had deliberately refrained from touching the dragon's remains. It had been meant as spoils for the Nine Roses.
He had been granted the dragon's inner core; the body rightfully belonged to them.
The Spider Queen had suffered considerable injuries in battle, and dragon flesh would make an excellent restorative. Surely her subordinates would soon come to retrieve it.
That had been Woojin's assumption, and so he had departed their territory without regret.
'But the Nine Roses… allowed the dark-side priests to take the corpse.'
The dragon's body was enormous and heavy.
To transport it intact, the dark priests had frozen it with a powerful spell, then swarmed over it to carry it away—like ants discovering a massive carcass.
There was no way the Nine Roses had failed to notice such a commotion. Why had they merely watched as the priests stole it?
And before that… why had they so readily yielded the dragon's inner core to him?
…I simply can't understand it.
The Nine Roses were difficult to read. Hence the epithet—fickle.
Woojin tried to discern their intentions but gained no clarity. Understanding the motives inside another's head was no easy task.
Best to give up and finish the snack.
As he took another bite of deer meat, the distant howls of abominations began to echo. Drawn by the scent of roasting flesh, they seemed to have descended this way.
He glanced sideways at them.
'Small fry again today.'
There was no need for him to intervene. Gnoll warriors and Federation soldiers responded swiftly.
"Bind their advance!"
Braknark issued the order.
In response, the gnoll warriors hurled their javelins. Bone spears cut through the air with fierce wind sounds. As the struck enemies slowed, the waiting soldiers behind them raised their crossbows.
"Fire!"
Fwoosh—fwoosh—thunk!
Arrows streaked across the night sky in red trails. They were fire arrows.
Though weaker than consecrated silver bolts, they packed a scorching bite of their own.
"Graaaargh!!"
Abominations struck by the flaming arrows screamed as they burned. The air filled with the acrid scent of charred flesh.
Perhaps because he was chewing meat at the same time, the smell lent a strange savoriness to his mouth.
Woojin carefully stripped the remaining meat from the bone while observing the battle.
"Doesn't it seem like their numbers have decreased?"
"Indeed… it does."
Abominations infused with the aura of ancient beings possessed extraordinary reproductive capacity. Even when slain, their numbers quickly replenished.
But lately, their population had noticeably declined.
'Have they finally reached the limit of their growth?'
It was not surprising.
Every night, the gnoll tribe and the Order Federation hunted them, and Woojin himself often strolled into the forest to butcher several at a time.
A weakening enemy was a good sign.
"Shall we begin advancing north?" Braknark suggested.
Woojin considered briefly, then shook his head.
"…Let's observe a bit longer. There's no need to rush."
The advantage of terrain was a weapon beyond measure. Holding the wall and reaping easy victories as they were, then advancing north together once the third expeditionary force arrived—that would be ideal.
The moment they stepped beyond the wall, they would be forced into full confrontation with the abominations. It was wiser to gather maximum strength before attempting a northern push.
At his words, Braknark nodded in understanding.
"Understood. To be honest, I would prefer to reclaim our homeland with our own strength… but practicality is more important than pride."
"You're thinking clearly."
Woojin glanced down at his hand. A bone picked clean without a shred of flesh left. Chatting idly while taking bite after bite, he had finished his late-night snack before he knew it.
"Shall I grill more meat?"
"This is enough."
Greed did no one any good.
Woojin hurled the bone in his hand with force. The deer beast's leg bone spun through the air like a boomerang, whirling as it flew over the wall.
Crack!!
An unlucky abomination was struck squarely by the bone, its skull shattering instantly. Not stopping there, Woojin rose to his feet.
"Bring me a javelin."
"Yes, sir."
As light exercise after his meal, he threw javelins like harpoons, bursting one visible abomination after another.
It was something he did every night, so there was no particular feeling attached to it. Yesterday he had chatted with Braknark while throwing javelins; today was no different. Tomorrow would likely be much the same.
Just as he was indulging in that idle thought—
"…What's that?"
Woojin muttered under his breath. Braknark, standing beside him, asked,
"What are you referring to?"
"There. In that forest."
Woojin pointed out the direction himself. Braknark narrowed his eyes and strained to see, but nothing stood out to him.
"…It's too far. I can't make it out."
"Is that so?"
The distance was considerable, true—but that hardly mattered.
"It's coming this way."
The distance steadily closed. Before long, even Braknark could see it clearly.
A creature swept the ground as it approached with a long tail. More precisely, it wasn't a tail but its body. Its lower half was serpentine, elongated and covered in blue scales.
Above the waist, however, its upper body resembled that of a human. Yet even that torso was densely covered in scales, with sharp fins protruding from its face and body.
With such a distinctive appearance, Woojin and Braknark recognized it without difficulty.
"…That's a naga."
A naga.
One of the most powerful tribes in the region. Why one had come all the way here was unclear—but it did not look well.
"Grrgh…"
A groan thick with pain escaped it. Its rotting black eyes oozed dark ichor.
Seeing this, Braknark muttered,
"…It seems to have turned."
"Looks that way."
Woojin thought briefly before asking,
"Didn't we hear the naga were holding out just fine? That one looks like a high-ranking warrior."
"That's what I was told as well…"
The naga abomination carried an ominous aura. It suggested that in life, it had been immensely powerful. How had it ended up like this?
There was no time to ponder.
The naga slithered forward, closing the distance. Woojin tightened his grip on the javelin, preparing to throw—then paused.
…That one still has its eyes.
A mutated abomination that could see. At this distance, if he threw, it might react and evade.
At that moment, one of the gnoll warriors hurled a javelin with all his strength. The spear, carved from beast bone, shot straight toward the naga.
The naga's eyes locked onto the tip.
Clang!
It caught the incoming javelin mid-flight. A powerful specimen. Realizing this, the soldiers immediately loaded the silver arrows they had been conserving into their crossbows.
"Fire!"
Fwoosh—thud—!
Several silver bolts streaked forward. But more than half veered astray. In the deep night, the naga's position was difficult to pinpoint.
Stray abominations were struck instead, shrieking as they dissolved. Only around a dozen bolts flew accurately toward the naga. Blind shots or not, they were lethal.
In response, the naga abomination adjusted its grip on the javelin it had just seized.
Whirl, whirl!
The bone spear spun like a windmill in its hands, knocking aside most of the incoming silver arrows. It handled the weapon as though it had wielded it for years.
Braknark's competitive spirit flared at the sight. Baring his fangs in a grin, he muttered,
"A worthwhile prey at last… Though it's a shame there's only one."
Perhaps the creature heard him.
"GRAAAARGH—!"
The naga roared at the top of its lungs. From the forest, more naga abominations slithered forth in a mass. At a rough count, there were easily three hundred.
The leading naga leveled its spear toward the wall. As if answering the gesture, the abominations charged.
Woojin offered a dry remark.
"Feeling more satisfied now?"
"…My apologies."
The nighttime siege had begun.
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