230. The Age of Manufactured Heroes (1)
To describe a magical battle on the scale of war more poetically, bards call it the “Battle of Silence.” A very straightforward way of putting it. Fernandez looked up at the sky and wondered. How on earth could that be called silence?
Just as cavalry is called the nightmare of infantry, magic can become the nightmare of all soldiers. Even a single basic fireball, conjured by one person, can cause dozens of casualties.
The birth of efficient asymmetric power. That’s precisely why every nation invests vast amounts of gold into magical forces. The dense formations of infantry, the beautiful sequential charges of cavalry—all the technical skills of a commander can be rendered useless in an instant.
So, commanders and field officers thought of another way: “How to exclude mages from the battlefield.” Unless they could politely ask the enemy to stop, the only solution was to deploy their own mages.
-Kurrrrrr!
In the sky, magical currents form a swirling vortex of colors. Mages from each camp prepare their spells, while mages from the opposing camp disrupt them.
The Battle of Silence. In reality, only a fraction of the magic actually hits the battlefield. Mages from each side fight with all their might in the sky, using magic against magic, wagering the lives of their soldiers as the price of failure.
“The magical forces are precariously balanced.”
-Are Lavirata’s Burial Priests weaker than expected?
“No. The Empire’s mages are just more skilled than we thought.”
On an individual level, magic is mysterious, but on a national scale, magic is proportional to the amount of gold invested. The Empire possesses a magical force larger than any other human civilization, and this creates the military disparity between the western kingdoms and the Empire.
Mages in the conventional sense. They are entirely different from scholars who prove mysteries and explore the world. The Empire’s Philainneil University pursues only two magical capabilities: countering enemy magic and realizing large-scale legion magic. Hence the derogatory nickname: the Imperial Explosive School. A place entirely focused on large-scale destructive magic…
-Kwaaaaaaang!!
A portion of the Legion of Skeletons is engulfed in an explosion and collapses. Bones and dust rise like a cloud, and the flames from the explosion begin to spread the damage.
During the fierce magical battle in the sky, a fragment of magical energy falls to the ground, condensing into a spell. A spell that seeks only destruction, only greater explosions.
-Kugugugugu!!
The vast prairie of the Great Wilderness. The Lavirata Dynasty’s army fills the horizon. Individually, their mass is not significant. But as a whole, they move in perfect unison under the will of a few, creating tremors in the earth.
The skeletons raised by the Burial Priests and the dynasty’s nobles walk, wield swords, and advance according to their masters’ commands. Their formations are flawlessly beautiful, not a single step out of place.
-Kung!
Without any signal, the vanguard halts. Despite the sudden movement, the entire legion stops without a single disturbance. Fernandez, still on his horse, looked down at the scene in awe.
-Show them the true essence of magical combat, quickly!
“Don’t get impatient, Faijashi. We have more important things to do than proving ourselves.”
Fernandez calmed Faijashi and looked down at the Imperial Legion’s formation below the hill. The Emperor had sent troops as promised—faster than expected and as powerful as anticipated. However, the forces of the other Elector Counts were conspicuously absent.
“Too greedy.”
-It’s unbearable.
The Emperor didn’t want to share his glory or the interests of the Great Wilderness with the other Elector Counts. He had abandoned their support and dispatched the central legion’s forces instead.
The faculty of Philainneil University and the Combat Mage Legion were preparing for the magical battle in the rear. About 20% of them were faces he recognized. The Empire had gathered all the outstanding mages from within its borders.
Meanwhile, on the frontline. The forces of Ribue and the Beastman Nobility were divided, with the Imperial Legion standing imposingly between them. The Radiant Spear Society, the Levans Knights, the Oathbound Knights, and the Knights of Gurr’s Burning Fortress—the Emperor’s main forces had gathered.
“Ribue won’t last half a day.”
-Half a day? If they last that long, it’ll be a miracle.
They were currently facing the rebel forces of the Lavirata Dynasty and the Federation of Beastman Nobles. But as soon as this war ended, their swords and spears would immediately turn toward Ribue.
This war would surely lead to Ribue’s downfall. That’s why the Elector Counts remained silent despite knowing the Emperor’s greed. Ribue’s destruction was no loss to them.
Eight Elector Counts were too many to govern the Empire. All the Elector Counts thought so. They were beasts sensitive to their interests, and the fall of one Elector Count inevitably led to the expansion of their own interests. And the Emperor was creating the justification for it himself.
-Kwaaaaaaang!
The battle lines clashed. Fernandez tightened his reins, calming his horse, which was eager to charge. Behind him, the elite soldiers of the Beastman Nobility gathered.
War tempers heroes with the blood of soldiers. Among the humans falling to the spears and blades of the skeletons at the forefront, the Age of Heroes would dawn.
Even if it didn’t, it would be made to. Fernandez’s sharp eyes focused on a protruding section of the frontline where Duke Erbe and his knights were fighting fiercely.
* * *
“Don’t retreat! Forward! Forward!!”
Kirhas swung her sword, crushing a skeleton. Though individually weak, the terrifying aspect of the Legion of Wraiths was that their numbers seemed almost infinite.
There was no limit. Literally, the skeletons buried beneath this land were scattered…
Popping out and messing up the frontlines.
A surprise attack on the vast plains. It couldn’t be more deadly. In this wasteland with thousands of years of history, finding land without corpses was harder than you’d think.
Not only did they have to deal with the enemy forces in front, but they also had to anticipate troops popping up from below. Every area was a trap, and the soldiers’ confusion and morale drop were inevitable.
“Kyaaaak!”
A spear that shot up from the ground pierced the heart of a beastman who had been thrashing nearby. Unlucky. The weapon held by the skeleton lying underfoot just happened to be a spear, leaving no time to dodge. The beastman twitched for a moment, then closed its eyes and collapsed.
“Tch!”
Kirhas quickly struck the fallen beastman’s neck. It wasn’t to desecrate the corpse. A corpse in enemy hands would simply become an enemy soldier. In the battle against the Legion of Wraiths, death wasn’t the end. It was the beginning of eternal service.
This scene was happening all across the frontlines. The reason why the Sultan and the Empire avoided provoking the Legion of Wraiths that ruled the Great Wilderness was being proven in real-time.
And also, the Federation of Beastmen Nobles. The reason why the united race’s immense power couldn’t unify the Great Wilderness was this. The Legion of Wraiths was like a beehive. Touch it, and it explodes.
“Do not retreat!! Warriors of the Federation. Victory lies ahead!”
“Hearttaker! Hearttaker! Hearttaker!”
“Tear out the enemy’s heart! Your Chieftain fights alongside you!”
“Glory!!”
“Honor!”
“Victoryyyyyy!!!”
At Kirhas’s shout, the Beastman Nobility roared in unison. At least the collapse of this frontline wasn’t a concern. Kirhas’s reputation already encompassed all the beastmen.
The undefeated of the wilderness, the forgotten prophet of a god. A great hero who unified the Beastman Nobility with a handful of troops, repelled the Lavirata Dynasty’s ambush, and unified the wasteland.
However, not all frontlines could fight like this.
* * *
“We must retreat!!”
“Discussing retreat in the first battle! Can you still call yourself an Imperial knight?!”
“This is madness! The soldiers’ casualties are extreme!”
The Empire’s potential enemies were the Kirzat Sultanate, the warlords of the Great Wilderness, the occasional rebels and bandits, and the eastern kingdoms. Their commonality was that they were human, and strategies based on conventional warfare worked against them.
But the current battlefield was unconventional. While all frontlines were holding their formations, enemies were ambushing from below. It was like enemy cavalry hammering every frontline at once.
Forming formations was impossible. The frontline was one, but they were essentially surrounded. Even if the enemy wasn’t mobilizing all their forces at once, the sporadic ambushes from below were gnawing at the soldiers’ morale in real-time.
-Crack!
A skeleton soldier rose, collapsing a corner of the tent. A knight nearby smashed its head in one blow. Even the command post, supposed to be the safest place, wasn’t spared. How must the soldiers feel in this chaotic battlefield?
“Holding out is getting harder. Lavirata’s Legion of Wraiths is endlessly replenished! With our soldiers! This is insane!”
“This is a war commanded by the Emperor himself. Shut your mouth!”
“What are the mages doing?! They can’t stop or even detect the enemy’s Resurrection Spell?!”
“At least be grateful the enemy’s magic isn’t raining down on our soldiers’ heads!”
The Empire’s command wasn’t united under one commander. The Imperial knights and the noble marshals were each vying for the Emperor’s favor, and there was no great noble like Duke Erbe to centralize them.
The command’s disputes and chaos directly affected the soldiers’ morale. The Imperial Legion was undoubtedly a formidable force, but a sword moves according to the skill of the one wielding its hilt.
However, not all soldiers were without a commander. Where a great noble who could unite them personally led, the skeleton soldiers were nothing but weak, moving scarecrows.
* * *
“Uahahaha! These weaklings! Is this all you’ve got?!”
“Borua, protect the soldiers!”
“Yes, my lord!”
Borua the Bear, a giant knight swinging a greatsword as thick as a man’s arm, smashed skeleton soldiers aside and nodded as he returned.
The most protruding area of the frontline. Duke Erbe’s Ribue army and Kirhas’s Beastman Nobility Legion were slowly pushing into the depths of the Legion of Wraiths from both flanks.
Advancing was good. But being the protruding point meant the enemy’s density would inevitably increase. Thus, Erbe and Kirhas’s fierce fighting directly led to increased casualties.
And in this surreal battlefield where every casualty became an enemy reinforcement, that was extremely fatal.
“My lord! We’ve advanced too deep! We must retreat!”
“That’s impossible! Protect the troops as much as possible!”
“The Chieftain’s concubine might be deceiving us!”
“Do you think that man would risk his life just to increase our casualties? Borua, trust me and advance. That man isn’t like that.”
-Boom!
While the Imperial Legion was struggling to maintain formations below the frontline. That was the perfect opportunity. Watching the increasingly dense and massive pressure of the skeleton forces, Erbe tightened his grip on the sword hilt.
‘I can’t remember the last time I took to the battlefield myself.’
Erbe grumbled. He was rough with people. But at the same time, his blood boiled. His youth. Young Erbe was a knight who charged ahead in the 50-year war. It felt like he was back in those days.
“Advance!!”
The soldiers moved as one. Erbe’s troops were bound by decades of camaraderie, fighting and sleeping together under his command.
They were hardened veterans from the fiercest battles. Erbe trusted them. And the soldiers trusted him.
* * *
The man overlooking the battlefield chaos nodded.
“Cavalry. Forward.”
The man raised his greatsword with one hand, pointing forward. It was time to make a hero.
“Let’s show death to the dead. Forward.”
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