Chapter 292: Episode 292

The inevitable war between East and West had begun. Spurred by Leon van Noah’s provocation, the Eastern Alliance, a coalition of seven nations, marched into a conflict that would shake the continent. To them, destroying the Totem of Abundance was a sacrilegious act, a rejection of the earth itself. It was more than enough to rouse the druids from their temples. The Alliance, with a great host of druids in its ranks, began its advance into the West and requested the cooperation of the Raider’s Association.

However, the Association, having lost many of its best and brightest in the Enais Kingdom’s recent civil war, declared its neutrality.

’The Raider’s Association exists to conquer dungeons. We cannot afford to squander the talent we have nurtured on the wars of nations. We will accept no requests related to this conflict. Save for those who volunteer of their own accord, we will provide no reinforcements or cooperation. Let the nations settle their own disputes.’

With the former powerhouse Dinen Pradio missing and his plans in ruins, the Association’s Head, Anderno, seized the opportunity to assert its independence and cut ties with the warring kingdoms.

“I heard the Eastern Alliance’s army is massive. Must be because so many nations serve the Cult of Abundance.”

“This is the end for the tyrant Leon van Noah. He picked a fight and now his whole kingdom is about to be wiped out. I’m putting my raid party on hold and joining the Alliance. The pay is supposed to be great.”

“The druids, who’ve been quiet for decades, are finally on the move. I’ve only ever seen the one in the Yuda Raid Party. I can’t wait to see what kind of skills they’ll use against those two superhumans.”

Many raiders, ignoring the Association’s decree, flocked to the Eastern Alliance, swelling its ranks. Meanwhile, the Enais Kingdom stood alone, receiving supplies of iron and materiel only from the Anslake family as it prepared for war. The people of the West braced for the obvious outcome, dreading the new political order that would follow.

“If the Eastern Alliance destroys Enais, will they claim part of the West as their own?”

“Nonsense. The other western kingdoms would never allow it. We should be more worried about the power vacuum after the war.”

“Even with two superhumans, the Alliance’s momentum is terrifying. And I heard a ton of S-rank raiders have joined them. What will that tyrant do now?”

As the continent held its breath, the Eastern Alliance poured through a gate into the West, and the war began in earnest.

—

“Kuhehehek!”

“Kuhek!”

“Kueeeek!”

Gnolls burst from the reeds, brandishing maces, hammers, and morning stars. They radiated a savage aura, their snarls echoing across the plains.

“G-Gnolls! Raiders, please help us!” a merchant cried.

“Don’t worry! A few gnolls are nothing to us!”

“Alright, Atirun, let’s go!”

The two raiders escorting the caravan charged forward. The gnolls sneered at the foolish humans, but their confidence was short-lived.

[B-rank Mid-tier Raider Pito has cast Taunt.]

[The gnolls’ attention is focused solely on Pito.]

Pito, the shield bearer, planted himself at the front, his shield raised high. In a two-man team, his job was to absorb every attack. The gnolls howled and swarmed him, but their blows barely scratched the shield’s surface.

“It’s no use!” Pito yelled. “This is dwarven-made gear from Balak! Atirun, now!”

“Got it!”

Atirun, who had been cutting down gnolls on the flank, nodded. They had been partners since their C-rank days and could read each other’s intentions with a single glance. Just as he anticipated, the gnolls were suddenly thrown backward.

[B-rank Mid-tier Raider Pito has cast Shield Bash.]

It was the perfect opening. Atirun seized the moment, leveling his sword.

[B-rank Mid-tier Raider Atirun has cast Swordwind Rush.]

[Deals critical piercing damage to enemies in a straight line.]

He shot forward like an arrow. The broadsword in his hand skewered a line of gnolls, its blade instantly slick with blood.

“Kueeeek!”

“I’m not done yet! Hyaah!”

“More on your left!”

With flawless coordination, they dispatched the remaining gnolls. The merchants watching from the caravan erupted in applause. They had hired the raiders by chance, but the investment had clearly paid off. Perfume, the vice-leader of the Leophil Merchant Guild, nudged his dazed subordinates and pointed at the corpses.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Deal with the bodies! From the looks of their hides, they’re blue gnolls. Get skinning!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

“Let’s go.”

All spoils from the escort belonged to the guild. The merchants hurried to the battlefield and began their work as Atirun finished the fight, severing the head of the last gnoll.

—

’Crackle. Crackle.’

Firewood hissed in the campfire. With nightfall, the Leophil Merchant Guild had made camp in an open field. Thanks to their two escorts, the earlier gnoll ambush had been dealt with cleanly, and the mood was relaxed.

“Here you go, Raiders!” a merchant offered, handing them bowls of stew.

“Ah, thank you.”

“Um, your name is Atirun, right?” a young woman from the guild asked shyly. “Are you… seeing anyone?”

“I’m sorry,” Atirun replied gently. “I’m already promised to someone.”

The mysterious woman he loved had finally opened her heart to him, and they had vowed to build a future together. The merchant girl turned away, disappointed. Atirun ate his stew, feeling slightly awkward.

Pito nudged him with an elbow. “Wow, you’re popular. Soon you’ll have a line of women following you around!”

“Don’t even joke about that. She’s the only one for me. Besides, when it comes to that, the Dungeon Master of Balak is in a league of his own.”

“Ah… right.”

The Dungeon Master of Balak, who traveled with a retinue of beautiful women and commanded their complete affection. Pito had to concede the point. They finished their meal, chatting idly.

Meanwhile, the merchants eating by the carriages noticed a line of lights in the distance.

“What is that? Torches?”

“The only settlement around here is the Koust territory. Must be the residents.”

“Well, at least they’re not coming our way.”

A murmur of unease spread through the camp. The two raiders, finished with their meal, approached to see what was happening.

“What’s going on?”

“Ah, it looks like a column of people from Koust territory is passing by. The torchlight startled us.”

“Hmm. We’ll go take a closer look.”

“W-Would you?”

The procession was indeed strange. The merchant was clearly curious himself and didn’t object. Atirun nodded to Pito, and the two of them crept toward the road.

[Vision Expansion Ticket has been used.]

[Vision Priority Ticket has been used.]

[Night Vision has been used.]

They activated a series of items and skills. It could just be residents, but it was better to be prepared. Hiding in the reeds, they peered at the column of figures.

“Th-They’re not residents!” Pito hissed.

“Shh, they’ll hear us.”

“Gods… how can this be?”

It was a column of soldiers in full armor, representing various classes. They marched in perfect, silent order, their eyes glowing with a faint red light. It was a procession of the dead. Through a gap in one soldier’s armor, Atirun saw rotting flesh and clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp.

“They’re… they’re all dead,” he whispered in horror. “I’ve seen this before. Some of the raiders who came back to the village… they’d been hit by a necromancer. They were moving just like that, completely lifeless.”

“What in the world…”

From the color and crest on their armor, there was no doubt: they were soldiers of the Enais Kingdom. Stunned and horrified, the two raiders carefully retreated to the camp.

—

Just like the last raid party, the Eastern Alliance crossed into the West through the gate in the Gigantes capital. Though their only opponent was the Enais Kingdom, the scale of the conflict had already grown beyond a simple war. The Gigantes Kingdom, wanting no part in it, refused to participate.

Between Aslan, the capital of Enais, and Zemberton, the capital of Gigantes, lay seven territories and four designated battle zones. The Eastern Alliance established their first base in the Nihalas Plains, with the goal of capturing the Golpein territory. Soon after, a massive army from the Enais Kingdom assembled on the plains, resulting in a tense standoff.

—

“To think they would try to defend the very first territory. How foolish.”

Across the plains, the army of the Enais Kingdom stood in silent, black-armored ranks. It was odd that no commander was visible, but it was laughable all the same. The Cult of Abundance had dispatched four of its bishop-level druids for this war. With them on the field, the outcome was all but certain.

Runtas, the Druid of the Firmament, stroked his beard and leisurely observed the enemy soldiers. Then, a strange feeling pricked at him.

“I can’t feel the life force of the earth.”

He focused, drawing on the energy of the land, but the result was the same. Every single soldier across the field was cut off from it. He hurriedly summoned Nephelian, the Druid of Life.

“What is it?”

“Nephelian, look closely at those soldiers.”

“Hmm, just a moment… Good heavens!”

Horror washed over the old druid’s wrinkled face. He stared at the army in disbelief, checking again and again, but the truth was undeniable. They were all corpses, their souls long since departed.

“…It seems the tyrant has resorted to forbidden magic,” Nephelian said grimly.

“With all the dungeons on this continent, ’forbidden magic’ can only mean necromancers,” Runtas grunted.

“But to use his own soldiers this way… it’s madness.”

“Heh. How do you think he earned the name ’tyrant’? By being mad. Provoking us by smashing the totems was an act of madness from the start.”

Leon van Noah had joined forces with a necromancer to create an undead army. ’Tyrant’ no longer seemed a strong enough word. He was a destroyer, a king born to bring ruin to the continent. The bishops quickly spread the word, and a wave of tension rippled through the Alliance camp.

The Eastern Alliance was a coalition of nations that revered the Cult of Abundance and followed the druids’ will. Their commanders carefully arranged their formations, their voices ringing out to steel the soldiers’ resolve.

“Those men are already dead! This is proof that Leon van Noah has finally lost his mind!”

“Show no mercy! You are merely cutting down corpses! There is no need for emotion!”

“Listen well! We march to take Leon van Noah’s head! Our first objective is the Golpein territory! We will show those arrogant fools our power!”

The time to advance had come. The commander-in-chief of the Alliance, Duke Jespein, rode to the front, his presence igniting the soldiers’ morale.

“We will make those who provoked us with their petty pride understand what true power is! We will trample their corpses and take their territory in one week! Do you understand?!”

“YES, SIR!”

“ALL TROOPS, ADVANCE!”

“WAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

An army of 600,000, bolstered by 2,000 druids—it was a force of incredible power. And so, on the Nihalas Plains, the first great battle between the Enais Kingdom and the Eastern Alliance began.

—

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