Episode 68
A single Death Knight was wreaking havoc, cutting down the guards of the bandit alliance stationed there.
“Still not enough.”
Dale’s Death Knight was far from the crude creations of ordinary necromancers. It was the embodiment of the ultimate swordsmanship that had once defeated the continent’s greatest sword, a true “Proxy of the Sword.” Dale had two goals for his Death Knight.
First, to revive the hero’s sword in its purest form, allowing it to truly become a “Proxy of the Sword.”
Second, much like AI deep learning, to have his Death Knight endlessly wield the sword, learning and accumulating data in the process.
The development of an “Automatic Formula.”
When the Death Knights could wield the hero’s sword independently, without Dale’s control, the plan was to project this “Automatic Formula” onto the thousands of Death Orders lying dormant in the fortress, overlaying the hero’s sword onto thousands of black blades.
He envisioned a scene where thousands of Death Orders, armed with the hero’s sword, would transform into the “ultimate combat form.”
Death Knights clad in the armor of ideology.
The army of the god of death… Anubis.
To achieve this, Dale was tirelessly refining the swordsmanship of his Death Knight, automating the information.
Such a feat was only possible for someone like Dale, who could make even the greatest sword bow down.
The guards at the toll station, heavily armed, began to resist.
But in front of the sword wielded by Dale’s Death Knight, they were nothing more than living sacrifices, mere data to be collected.
Hamburg City Hall.
“We have intelligence that the bandit alliance, led by Count Robert, is mobilizing their forces.”
The mayor carefully spoke, spreading a map depicting the terrain across the table.
“Additionally, it seems the mercenary group they’ve hired is also moving out with the bandit alliance…”
Dale nodded, as if he had expected this.
“They must be feeling anxious and moving ahead of schedule.”
In a siege, the defending side holds the advantage. So far, everything was unfolding as Dale had anticipated.
For Dale, the important thing wasn’t just victory, but how cleanly he could achieve it.
The mercenaries and the bandit alliance had no mages. In this world, mages were a rare asset, and such rare assets wouldn’t pledge loyalty to mere mercenaries or low-ranking nobles.
The only one they needed to be wary of was Dale himself. Despite his extraordinary feats, they likely believed they could overwhelm him with sheer numbers.
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
Outside the realm of imperial law, in a battle without rules, it was time to test the achievements Dale had built up.
Though he might not compare to the likes of a Black Mage or a Holy Knight, as an “unconventional powerhouse,” he wondered how much he could influence the battlefield… how much he could change the landscape of war with his individual strength.
He was eager to see what kind of hellscape his “mass destruction magic” would create.
Against the Black Armor Company, the bandit alliance and mercenaries had only one tactic.
To encircle the free city of Hamburg and force a quick surrender.
This was due to the chronic issue of supply lines in this world.
Watching the enemies encircling the city walls, Dale thought calmly.
“Using the city’s walls for a defensive battle wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
Besides the Black Armor Company’s forces, Hamburg had its own considerable military strength.
However, the enemy had no mages. The quality of their soldiers, including the mercenaries, was no better than that of minor lords.
“It wouldn’t hurt to push a little.”
Dale thought calmly, observing the situation.
There was no harm in stepping into the spotlight, and as the leader of the Black Armor Company, he trusted his subordinates to make such a decision.
“Sir Yones.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Dale addressed Sir Yones, the deputy commander standing by his side.
“Shall we take the kids out for a little sightseeing?”
Against the enemy’s large force of about 2,000 surrounding the city. With just a hundred heavily armored infantry.
To anyone, it seemed like a suicide mission.
Count Robert, the leader of the bandit alliance and commander of the three major mercenary groups, could only see it that way.
He had been certain that the Black Armor Company’s heavily armored infantry, the enemy’s strongest force, would stay holed up in the city for a defensive battle. But to think they would open the drawbridge and invite a “fair fight”!
With only about a hundred troops, and the only support being archers on the walls.
“Are they planning to die?”
No matter how formidable their defensive formation was, numbers would eventually prevail.
Yet, within that formation stood the infamous “Black Prince.”
The mercenary leader of the Black Armor Company, heir to the Black Magic Tower. A monster hailed as the empire’s greatest genius in swordsmanship, magic, and military strategy.
He surely understood the significance of having a mage within an unbreakable defensive formation.
However, for a mere 3rd-circle mage to cast “mass destruction magic,” typically reserved for high-ranking lords, was nearly impossible.
In all of Dale’s exploits as the leader of the Black Armor Company, mass destruction magic had never been part of it. Though they couldn’t comprehend the principles behind Dale’s “sniper rifle” magic, they saw his feats as nothing more than “powerful bolt magic.”
Not mass destruction magic, just a simple bolt spell.
Unaware that it was due to legal constraints, they couldn’t even imagine the feats Dale would display in a battle free from legal intervention.
“Was he just a naive child after all?”
Count Robert shouted, convinced of the enemy’s foolishness.
“The enemy is just a hundred heavily armored infantry!”
“Break through their formation!”
“How foolish to come out to die!”
The mercenaries joined in with jeers and cheers, trying to ignore the presence of the Black Armor Company’s leader, the “Black Prince,” within the formation.
There was no other way. The battle had been planned under the assumption that they could handle the exploits of a 3rd-circle mage.
“Charge!”
“Crush the Black Armor Company!”
“For the Golden Lion Mercenaries!”
The charge of the bandit alliance and mercenary forces began.
“We die where we stand!”
“For the Black Armor Company!”
Amidst the enemy’s charge, the hundred heavily armored infantry shouted their rallying cries, solidifying their defensive stance.
An unbreakable formation.
Within that formation, the leader of the Black Armor Company raised his head. Unlike usual, he wasn’t engaging in close combat with the enemy.
Instead, like a textbook mage, he calmly calculated the distance under the protection of the heavy infantry.
“Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD).”
Ignoring imperial law, Dale murmured softly.
But it wasn’t mass destruction “magic.” It was a weapon. A process of self-suggestion to clearly visualize the image in his mind. In other words, it was a mage’s “spell.”
A process of constructing a clear image and amplifying the magic’s destructive power based on an understanding of the mechanism.
Weapons of Mass Destruction. Typically, this term refers to nuclear weapons, chemical, and biological weapons. But going a bit further back, there was another archetype of this term.
Human history is a history of war. Human history rolls forward solely on the wheels of war.
And in that history of war, the first weapon of mass destruction they acquired.
“Gatling-type, 20mm.”
An incantation of an otherworldly formula unknown to the people of this world.
Behind Dale, shadows flickered, forming the shape of gun barrels. Black barrels. And there was not just “one” of them.
Those black barrels opened their maws toward the charging enemy forces.
“Those in front of me.”
Dale murmured softly.
“Move aside immediately.”
“The captain’s orders! First and second rows! Spread out to the sides!”
“Spread out to the sides!”
At the captain’s command, the heavily armored infantry in the front lines shouted in unison.
Dale’s men. This meant not only that they were private soldiers who could move at his will but also… soldiers tailored to support Dale’s exploits.
An organization meticulously aligned with Dale’s combat style.
Following Dale’s command, the front-line heavy infantry began to swiftly part.
“Are they out of their minds?”
As the cavalry charge approached, the heavily armored infantry in the first line parted to the sides, revealing the enemy commander within their formation. Count Robert couldn’t hide his surprise.
He knew that Dale of Saxony, the leader of the Black Armor Company, was capable of using highly lethal projectile magic. However, in the face of such an overwhelming cavalry charge, losing a few riders was an acceptable risk.
The real threat was the pervasive fear of death spreading like a plague. As long as they were prepared for that, there was no need to fear the leader of the Black Armor Company.
Before the battle, Count Robert had drilled this fact into his soldiers’ minds repeatedly. With this resolve, the mercenary cavalry charged forward, ready to face death.
“In the end, the so-called ‘Black Prince’ is just an inexperienced youth,” he mused.
This was a battle they could win. With the enemy’s blunder, he had no doubt it would be a decisive victory.
As a man of this world, he had no way of understanding the significance of the terms “Gatling-style” and “20mm” that Dale muttered.
Behind Dale, black barrels opened their mouths. Understanding the meaning of “mass destruction” that spewed forth from them was not difficult, no matter the world.