"When they said they'd open me a path, I thought—"
Konrad couldn't finish, having to run after that stupid giant to keep up.
"What?" Welf grunted with a smirk, but he was sweating as well. And his legs were much longer, too. "That they would smash the entire army in half for ya? I mean, Liliske would have, but—"
"Yeah, no," he cut him right off, shaking his head. "She knows I didn't want a massacre."
And even if Lily grumbled about holding back, with Gabrielle needing extra convincing—
"Them acting as baits is ridiculous, though," Konrad panted. "And how am I to capture Maou if he's out there hunting 'em? Ugh, for the spirits, is there no way to slow this thing down?!"
"My guess is as good as yours."
The redhead forced a laugh, but he ran out of steam fast.
There was no helping it. This plan was simple to a fault.
Create a diversion too enticing to pass, while the main attack would look so dumb, nobody would buy it. Not his idea this time, and it was sure showing.
Like, in the fact that they rushed through with it before he could even protest.
And rush, they did, in more than one meaning.
Konrad had already hated running with a passion.
But oh, heavenly business and somesuch—damn that angel and that overeager first wife, too.
The problem was the very thing they had to follow.
This golem was Nimrod's creation, and it resembled its maker in the worst possible way.
As in, it wasn't very smart or cooperative.
Back at the pass, his twin gave it a simple order, pointed it in a direction, and it would go until it was there or dead on its way. Well, with the necromancer here, it wouldn't die, no matter what.
It would only keep going and going and going, damn it.
Plus, since Nimrod volunteered to lead his guerrillas rather than control this beast—
"Why did I agree to the armor?" Stella moaned. "I can't breathe in this helmet. Please. Let me—"
"No," Konrad rejected before she could finish. "Told you, it was either this or invisibility."
And if he had to wear his adamantite gear and carry his sword along, too, so did she.
A little payback for all the torture he had to endure from her.
Not that he kept tabs on that, but this marathon sure reminded him.
"I changed my mind," the former executioner pleaded. "Make me invisible. Let me strip naked."
"Whoa, there," Welf turned back with a grin. "Don't make my Helena jealous."
Ugh. They still had the strength to joke around?!
And wait, was that a confession? Were they making progress or something?
A lot must have happened while he was away playing rock star.
And now, it was all back to rushing into the unknown.
Always rushing. Never a moment to catch his breath. To enjoy his gains. Damn it.
"Invisibility wouldn't save you from the stray arrows anyway," Konrad argued. He had to stay in the present. Moan later. He would have time for that. Sometime. If he was lucky.
"Can protect myself without all this metal, too," Stella rebutted. "At least the helmet—"
"No, especially that," he yelled, losing precious oxygen. "We kept you hidden for a reason."
Okay, no. He would have explained, but he had no air left.
"His scouts can't see you, Stella," Welf said to help him out. "Your golden hair and those rough grey robes became your trademark. And if only half of what Konrad said was true—"
"Half?" he panted. "Why would I lie?"
The fact was that even with the dragon's help, he would have never stood a chance against Maou Midori. Not until Stella showed up to shield them from his necromancy.
And now that she had her staff despite all logic, she'd become a real threat.
Thus, if the scouts saw her, the Demon Lord would have known which one was the real attack.
With all those horse archers shadowing them already—
They kept taking potshots at the Rogue Rejects behind them.
Too bad, they weren't actually there. The illusions he created were impervious to arrows.
While Bor was eager to come, and his wives argued to bring them, too, Konrad rejected the idea. Risking his own life was one thing, but to play with hundreds in foreign territory?
Wait. Was this his first time outside Kasserlane?
Like, not outside the world itself, but beyond those huge mountain ranges.
It had to be.
The slopes were steep at first. They had to climb down so many switchbacks.
But they soon gave way to rolling hills and dense forests.
Not the most ideal for horsemen, but he still felt naked and vulnerable out here.
Despite that giant golem leading the way.
And beyond? As long as his eyes could see—and with his illusion magic, he could see very, very far—it was open, empty steppes. This was the bland yet ever-changing home of the nomads.
In a sense, he was the invader now.
If only he had time or strength for a proper sightseeing.
"We're almost there," he panted. "What now?"
The plan was to let the golem rampage in the camp, forcing the Demon Lord to return and ambush him. But by that point, it would have been obvious the rest of his army was fake, too.
"I know Stella can keep the beast alive, but how will we hold back all those warriors ourselves?!"
Like, even asking that question took all the strength he still had.
Then, he had to fight and cast spells and whatnot?!
Never a moment to rest.
"I don't know," Welf said. Reassuring. "It wasn't my plan, but—"
"How 'bout make us all invisible when we get there?" Stella offered. "Discard the illusions, too, and let the golem take the stage. Then we can sneak up on the Demon Lord's pavilion, and—"
That was a great idea.
Especially from someone who panted way too hard to finish her sentence.
"Right," Konrad breathed. "Let's go with that. Keep a low profile. That way, even if they—"
Even if they took some of Nimrod's men, they could help them escape.
But not enough air in the world to say all that.
Could he use telepathy with them? Not that he could concentrate right now.
He already ran with a small barrier to deal with the arrows. And those sure kept on coming, more and more horse archers joining their pursuers the closer they got.
As if they started to realize that this wasn't a mere diversion.
But too late for that, now.
The enormous yurt city was finally ahead.
"See that green tent?" he squeezed out. "The one on the right. Beyond that. Thing."
So many words, so little lung.
Was that a lookout tower? They sure didn't have walls. Lucky.
"Once we're past the first yurts," he wheezed. "Invisible. Meet up there."
They'd better not miss that because he wouldn't repeat it ever again.
How much did they run? Twenty miles? Thirty? In full gear, no less, under a hail of arrows.
This was a stupid, stupid plan.
But at the very least, they didn't have to smash through any enemy formations.
Nobody expected an attack on this huge camp after all.
To invade the invaders' territory?
It was so unhinged, it might have even worked.
And there was no way he'd run all the way back from here, so it had to.