I Guess That's What I'll Have to Do (2)
There are always guards stationed atop the massive walls of Valskrum.
No matter how large and sturdy the fortress may be, no matter how steep the mountain range in which it's built, if there are no defenders, it can fall in an instant.
But the dwarves had always lived with the belief that this fortress would never fall.
That belief turned into pride, and over time, that pride turned into arrogance.
The guards barely paid attention to their duty, drinking and chatting even in broad daylight. Even the commanders had long turned a blind eye to it.
This was the sacred land of the great dwarves, Valskrum, a place considered impervious to external intrusion.
Today was no different. The dwarves on guard duty were filled with thoughts of drinking after their shift or assembling crafts as a hobby in their workshops.
Perhaps that was why. They noticed the approaching threat far too late.
"…Huh? What is that?"
A dwarf standing atop the wall looked up at the sky.
At first, he thought it was a cluster of storm clouds. As it came closer, he assumed it was a flock of crows.
But the closer the shapes drew, the more his expression hardened. They were far too large to be crows, and far too numerous.
Shrouded in a black aura, the flying figures were monsters—half-rotten flesh mixed grotesquely with strange leather and bones.
Undead wyverns and chimera wyverns.
And twisted chimeras and skeletal undead clung to the wyverns, cutting through the sky.
There was no doubt—they were heading for the fortress.
"E-enemy! The enemy is coming! It's the dark mages!"
The dwarf shouted at the top of his lungs.
Everyone had already heard the rumors about the Cult of Salvation and the dark mages, so no one doubted the warning.
Rather, the dwarves were enraged.
"How dare they challenge us!"
"Inform everyone! Notify the royal fortress!"
"Prepare for battle! Battle stations!"
The hands that had been raising bottles halted, and the empty bottles were thrown aside.
The instincts buried beneath their laziness awakened once more.
They were artisans, yes—but also warriors by birth.
The idle dwarves immediately grabbed their weapons and rushed toward the walls.
"Activate the gear! Everyone to your positions!"
Machines crafted by dwarves began to operate atop the walls.
At a glance, they resembled the ballistae used by humans, but the details were completely different.
Besides the massive central bolt, dozens of smaller projectiles were densely mounted on both sides and around the main body.
Sophisticated design, overwhelming firepower, and rapid-fire capability.
A masterpiece of dwarven engineering, the Tarbark was a steel beast that poured bolts in a multi-barrel storm.
Even Ghislain, from the future, had never seen this—an ancient weapon lost to history.
Only the dwarves of this era could produce such a weapon for actual combat.
"Get ready!"
When this fortress was first established, the dwarves had stained the entire mountain range with blood.
They had swept away every monster that threatened them, especially those that flew—none were tolerated.
That memory still lived on in the bricks and steel of Valskrum. They were prepared for aerial invasions.
Dozens of Tarbarks were deployed along the fortress walls.
Click, click, click.
As the dwarves turned the control mechanisms, the Tarbarks slowly aimed toward the sky.
A dwarf yanked the operating lever violently and roared,
"You bastards! Do you know where you are?! You dare swarm in like mutts?! I'll crush you all!"
PAPAPAPAPAPAPAK!
In that instant, hundreds of bolts launched like a storm, tearing through the sky.
Each steel bolt skewered multiple undead. The impact shattered their bones and scattered their flesh.
The destroyed monsters plummeted from the sky.
The sight of the monsters falling one after another looked like black rain pouring from the heavens.
"Fire! Keep firing! Drop them before they get close!"
The dwarves shouted nonstop. Their eyes were filled with only one will—to annihilate the enemy.
They were a race known across the continent for their craftsmanship. There were no mistakes or hesitation in their reloading.
FWAAAAAAAA!
The sky was covered in bolts fired from the Tarbarks. Thousands of steel quarrels once again ruthlessly tore through the undead horde.
The monsters couldn't even counterattack before they fell in droves. This place truly lived up to its reputation as an impregnable fortress.
But...…
There were simply too many monsters.
Where had all these undead and chimeras been hiding?
A wave of black shadows stretched endlessly across the sky, pressing down upon them.
"They're approaching! Get ready!"
"It's nothing! Just smash them!"
"Good, it feels better to beat them up with our own hands anyway!"
Even the dwarves operating the Tarbarks drew their weapons.
It was time to focus on close combat to stop enemies who breached the walls.
Though few, there were also dwarves who had learned magic. They too gritted their teeth and glared at the monsters beyond the wall.
"Just hold on a little longer! The warriors will be here soon!"
The dwarves encouraged one another and steeled their resolve.
Every dwarf who could fight would come to this place. Their numbers would not be small.
Dwarves were a race where even the women fought as warriors. Only the children and the elderly did not join battle.
They believed. And they swore—
Until the warriors arrived, they would not surrender this place, nor let it fall.
But then it happened.
Drrrrrrr...…..
A strange, ominous vibration rose from somewhere beneath the ground, behind the fortress wall.
For the first time, the dwarves' determined expressions wavered slightly.
They were a race with hearing as sensitive as their hands were skillful.
The trembling of rocks, the cracking of tunnels, the signs of approaching monsters.
Survival required them to sense all of these intuitively.
So they realized it quickly.
The sound they were hearing now was not normal.
Drrrrrrr...…..
"…From behind."
One dwarf slowly turned his head.
"Something's coming… from below."
Everyone's eyes shook.
This fortress was built atop a steep mountain range.
Its underground was packed solid with hard rock. No one—no race—should be able to dig through it.
That kind of technology belonged only to the dwarves.
So no one ever even considered the possibility. Their arrogance, stubbornness, and confidence deemed it impossible.
But now—what on earth was this sound?
DRRRRRRRRRRR!
The vibrations grew louder. The ground rumbled and rocks trembled.
The pride once covering the dwarves' faces turned into shock.
And finally—
KWAANG!
The ground split apart. Rocks burst upward like an explosion as something massive shot out from beneath.
GRRRRRAAAARGH!
It resembled a giant worm. One of the dwarves looked on, stunned.
"A Sandwurm? What's a Sandwurm doing here…?"
Sandwurms were monsters that lived in deserts. They burrowed underground and had immense strength—dangerous to Valskrum, but never native to this region.
They quickly noticed the irregularities. And realized the truth.
It was not a creature of nature. Its skin looked as if it had been stitched together from the hides of various beasts, and crude bones were tangled all over its body.
When its round, fang-filled mouth opened wide, black smoke spewed violently from within.
Dark mist began to rise from the cracks all over its body, gradually cloaking the monster's silhouette.
It was a weapon created for the sole purpose of spreading death—a beast reconstructed through black magic.
Atop the monster's head stood a figure in a billowing black robe.
The Prophet, Lahamod.
He, who had once fought against the Elf Grand Chieftain Iraniel, had appeared here once more.
From beneath his robe, violet eyes gleamed. His body slowly floated into the air.
Lahamod, gazing down at the dwarves standing on the fortress wall, muttered chillingly,
"Today, your flame shall be extinguished. Valskrum will fall, and the Eternal Forge shall become a heap of ash. Your bones and blood shall be the foundation of the eternal night."
As those words ended—
FWOOOSH!
A swirl of black mist erupted outward from Lahamod's body.
A wave of intense energy crushed the very space around it. Overwhelming power descended upon the fortress.
Under the suffocating pressure, the dwarves' faces turned pale. They realized that this was an enemy far beyond what they could handle.
One dwarf muttered, dazed,
"Oh Goddess… protect us from this demon…"
KWA-A-A-A-A-AANG!
A massive black flash struck the top of the wall. Screams of dwarves echoed.
It was the moment hell broke loose.
***
The Yulian Mercenary Corps had spread throughout Valskrum according to plan.
Yulian, Kyle, and Erenes, all of near top-tier strength, each led a team.
Lionel, having lost his divine power and grown weaker, was paired with the slightly more capable (?) Osval.
Below them, each team had five mercenaries.
Their mission was to buy time when the enemy attacked, and guide the dwarves to gather near the royal fortress.
Only Deneb remained by Ghislain's side. She needed to conserve her strength as much as possible right now.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOOM!
Explosions and tremors echoed from the distance. Without hesitation, Yulian hurled his body toward the source of the noise.
Dark quickly followed him and shouted,
"It's the enemy! They've just attacked!"
Ghislain had assigned a Dark to each team. Not just for communication, but also to provide support in emergencies, he had infused them with a hefty dose of mana.
Hearing Dark's report, Yulian nodded. He was in the outer residential area, so the distance was short.
Not long after sprinting in the direction Dark pointed, Yulian saw a horde of monsters surging ahead.
"…So they really came."
Just as expected. The dark mages were dropping hordes of monsters from the sky, while modified sandworms burst from underground.
"M-monsters!"
"Aaaaagh! What is that thing?!"
"Run! Get the children to safety first!"
The dwarves were in chaos. The sudden attack had thrown everyone into confusion, and only the elderly and children were barely being evacuated.
But dwarves were a warrior race.
Even in the midst of the chaos, most of them grabbed their weapons and recklessly charged toward the enemy.
Drawing closer, Yulian shouted loudly,
"Run! You must not fight here!"
"What the—A human? What are you talking about?!"
"Enemies are attacking from all directions! If you fight here, you'll be picked off one by one! You must gather near the royal fortress!"
"Don't spout nonsense! Why should we trust you?!"
The dwarves didn't listen to Yulian. They weren't naïve enough to take orders from a suddenly appearing human in a crisis like this.
In fact, a few of them even looked at him with suspicion.
Gritting his teeth, Yulian pulled out the metal rod Ghislain had given him.
"Dark!"
Dark, infused with Ghislain's mana, swelled up in an instant.
As he rose into the air, Yulian grabbed onto Dark's leg. Dark immediately charged toward the monsters, and Yulian thrust the rod forward.
"Ghislain!"
—Master! Now!
Ghislain was still seated atop the magic circle, eyes closed in meditation. But the scene was unlike usual.
Affected by the mana amplification array that absorbed an excessive amount of surrounding magic, Ghislain's body was floating midair.
The moment he heard Yulian and Dark's call within his consciousness, a surge of mana erupted from Ghislain's body in Yulian's direction.
CRACKLE!
A brilliant blue light shot toward the rune stone embedded nearby. That light leapt again to a rune stone placed even farther away.
Rune stones had been installed at regular intervals throughout Valskrum—secretly planted by the Yulian Mercenaries.
Following the intricately designed magical circuit, Ghislain's mana flowed steadily.
Though it passed through many steps and processes, it happened in the blink of an eye.
The mana, moving at nearly the speed of light, reached the area where Yulian stood in an instant.
And finally—
CRACKLE!
Ghislain's mana reached the metal rod in Yulian's grasp.
In that moment—
KWA-A-A-A-A-AANG!
A tremendous electric spell burst forth from the rod.
A colossal bolt of lightning ripped through the air, striking the sandwurm squarely.
The branching current surged forth, engulfing the approaching monsters in the sky.
KWAANG! KWAANG! KWA-A-AANG!
The monsters' flesh burned, and black smoke erupted like explosions in midair.
"Wh-what the…"
The dwarves, who had been charging without hesitation, all stopped in their tracks. They stared, dumbfounded, at the scene before them.
GRRRAAAAAHH!
The sandwurm let out a tortured scream, its body twisting. It wasn't an undead—it was a modified chimera.
The high priest of the Cult of Salvation, who had been standing atop the sandwurm's head, urgently released energy to shield it and retreated backward.
The dark mages who had been following the priest were also startled, hurriedly distancing themselves.
"Wh-what is that?!"
The priest was flustered. The spell that just exploded could've hurt even him, a superhuman.
He had clearly targeted the outer residential zone, which should've been poorly defended. Yet suddenly, a powerful spell had been unleashed.
Caught off guard, the priest hesitated and took stock of the situation.
The dwarves, too, were too stunned to even think of fleeing—only staring in disbelief.
Only Yulian gripped the metal rod tightly, a hopeful smile spreading on his face.
"Amazing. That's Ghislain for you."
It was Ghislain who had remotely cast the spell.
When his allies, who didn't know magic, specified the direction and timing, Ghislain would respond by sending mana to activate the spell.
The rune stones scattered throughout Valskrum acted as relays.
Of course, it was not an easy feat.
It required a vast number of rune stones, and Ghislain had to trust only his comrades' judgment as he sent out tremendous mana.
Though the use of the mana gathered through the amplification array reduced Ghislain's personal mana consumption, withstanding the recoil was no small task.
Still, Ghislain chose this method.
Only by hindering the enemy in as many places as possible could they evacuate the dwarves.
—Master! Again!
As if responding to Dark's cry, Ghislain's mana once again flowed through the metal rod.
KWA-A-AANG!
A thunderous roar resounded as intense magic swept through the enemies.
Though the sandwurm and the priest continued to retreat and endure, the monsters surrounding them were instantly shattered and scattered in the sky.
But there were simply too many enemies.
Even such powerful spells were only enough to stop a single wave.
Moreover, the metal rod had a clear limit to how much mana it could withstand.
CRACK…
At last, the rod began to crack under the strain.
Soon, fragments of broken metal scattered from Yulian's hand.
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