The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 761: I Guess I’ll Have to Do It That Way (2)

The towering walls of Vallscrum were always manned by guards. No matter how large, sturdy, or high in the rugged mountains the fortress was built, if no one defended it, it could fall in an instant. However, the dwarves had lived with the conviction that this fortress would never fall. That belief gave birth to pride, and over time, that pride turned into arrogance.

The guards barely kept watch, drinking and chatting even in broad daylight. Even the commanders had long since turned a blind eye. After all, this was Vallscrum—the sacred ground of the great dwarves, said to be impenetrable by any outside force.

Today was no different. The dwarves standing guard had their heads full of thoughts about the drinks they would have after their shift ended, and the crafts they would assemble for fun in the workshop. Perhaps because of that, they realized the threat, already visibly close, far too late.

"...Huh? What's that?"

A dwarf standing on the wall looked up at the sky. [N O V E L I G H T] At first, he thought it was storm clouds. As it came a bit closer, he figured it was a flock of crows. But the closer it came, the more his expression hardened. They were too large to be crows, and there were too many of them.

The shapes flying in, shrouded in black energy, were monsters—a grotesque mixture of half-rotted flesh, twisted leather, and bone.

Undead wyverns and chimera wyverns. And twisted chimeras and skeletal undead were clinging to those wyverns, slicing through the skies. It was clear they were targeting this fortress.

"Enemies! Enemies incoming! Black mages!"

The dwarf shouted at the top of his lungs. No one doubted the alarm, for they had already heard the rumors of the Salvation Order and the black mages. Instead, the dwarves were enraged.

"How dare they attack us!"

"Spread the word! Inform the royal castle!"

"Prepare for battle! Prepare for battle!"

The hand lifting the bottle stopped, and the empty bottle was thrown aside. The instincts of the dwarves, buried beneath laziness, came alive again. They were artisans, yes, but also born warriors. The idle dwarves immediately grabbed their weapons and ran toward the wall.

"Activate the equipment! Everyone to your stations!"

Atop the wall, the dwarven-made machines began to operate. At first glance, they resembled the ballistae used by humans, but their inner mechanisms were completely different. In addition to the massive central bolt, dozens of smaller projectiles were densely packed on either side and all around. Intricate design, overwhelming firepower, and a repeating fire mechanism. The pinnacle of dwarven engineering—‘Tarbark’—was a steel beast that fired bolts in a barrage. Even in the future, Ghislain had never seen this weapon before, and no records of it existed. It was a true weapon of war that only the dwarves of this era could create.

"Ready!"

When this fortress was first built, the dwarves had dyed the entire mountain range red with blood. They wiped out every monster that threatened them, especially flying ones—they did not allow a single one to survive. That memory still lived on in the bricks and iron of Vallscrum. They were prepared even for invasions from the sky. Dozens of Tarbarks were deployed along the walls.

Krrk, krrk, krrk.

As the dwarves turned the control levers, the Tarbarks slowly lifted toward the sky. One dwarf yanked the operating handle roughly and shouted.

"You bastards! Do you even know where you are, swarming in like dogs? I’ll smash every last one of you!"

Papapapapapapapak!

In that moment, hundreds of bolts launched at once like a storm, tearing through the sky. Each steel bolt pierced through several undead. The impact shattered bones and scattered rotting flesh. The destroyed monsters plummeted from the sky. The sight of the creatures falling in droves looked like a black rain pouring from above.

"Fire! Keep firing! Drop them before they get any closer!"

The dwarves shouted without rest. Their eyes held only one will—to smash the enemy. They were a race famous for their craftsmanship, and their reloading showed no hesitation or error.

Paaaaaaaaaaaaak!

The sky was covered with countless bolts fired by the Tarbarks. Thousands of steel crossbow bolts once again mercilessly swept through the undead swarm. The monsters couldn’t even counterattack before falling in succession. This place truly lived up to its reputation as an impenetrable fortress.

But... there were too many of them. Just where had so many undead and chimeras been hiding? The endless wave of black shadows covering the sky approached with a suffocating sense of pressure.

"They're approaching! Get ready!"

"Nothing to worry about! Just smash them!"

"Good, cracking their skulls by hand feels even better!"

Even the dwarves operating the Tarbarks picked up weapons. Now it was time to focus on close combat to stop the enemies from crossing the wall. There were a few dwarves who had learned magic as well. They too gritted their teeth and glared at the monsters beyond the wall.

"Just hold out a little longer! The warriors will arrive soon!"

The dwarves encouraged each other and steadied their resolve. Every dwarf capable of fighting would come to this place. Their numbers would not be small. The dwarves were a race where even the women fought as warriors. Only the children and the elderly were excluded from combat. They believed. And they swore. That until the warriors arrived, they could not and must not let this place fall to the enemy.

But then it happened.

Drrrrrrrrr....

From somewhere beneath the ground, behind the wall, an ominous vibration began to ring out. For the first time, the dwarves' firm expressions wavered. Their race was as sensitive in hearing as they were precise in craftsmanship. The trembling of rock, the cracking of tunnels, the presence of approaching monsters—these were all things they had learned to sense instinctively for survival. And so they soon realized. That this sound was anything but ordinary.

Drrrrrrrr....

"Behind us."

One dwarf slowly turned his head.

"Something is coming... from below."

Everyone’s eyes wavered. This fortress was built atop a treacherous mountain range. Beneath it lay nothing but dense, solid rock. No one—no race—could tunnel through that. That technique belonged to dwarves alone. That was why no one even considered the possibility. Their arrogance, stubbornness, and confidence deemed it impossible. But now, what was this sound they were hearing?

Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

The vibrations grew louder. The ground rumbled, the rocks trembled. The pride once filling the dwarves’ faces turned to horror.

And finally—

KWA-A-A-A-AANG!

The ground split open. Boulders shot upward like an explosion, and a massive something burst out from beneath.

GRRROOOAAAAAAAH!

It resembled a giant worm. One dwarf stared at it, his expression blank with shock.

"A sandworm...? How could a sandworm be here...?"

Sandworms were desert-dwelling monsters. They could tunnel through the earth and were strong, so they would pose a threat to Vallscrum, but they were absolutely not native to this region.

They quickly noticed what felt out of place—and realized.

That thing was not a creature of nature. Its skin looked like it had been stitched together from various animals' hides, and its body was crudely overlaid with bones.

As the round mouth full of densely packed teeth opened, a thick black smoke spewed out. Dark mist rose from every crack along its body, covering the creature in a silhouette of shadow.

It was a weapon built to spread death. A monster reconstructed through black magic.

Standing atop the beast’s head, his black robe fluttering in the wind, was a single figure.

The prophet—Rahamod.

He, who had fought against High Chief Iralniel of the elves, had returned here once more. Purple eyes gleamed beneath his black robe. His body slowly rose into the air.

Rahamod looked down at the dwarves standing atop the wall and murmured chillingly,

"Today, your flame will be extinguished. Vallscrum will fall, and the Eternal Forge shall become ash. Your bones and blood shall become the cornerstone of everlasting night."

The moment his words ended—

PA-AA-AK!

A swirl of black mist erupted from around Rahamod's body and spread out in a vortex. A wave of powerful energy crushed the space around it. An overwhelming force swept over the fortress.

The suffocating pressure drained the color from the dwarves’ faces. They realized this enemy was beyond what they could handle.

One dwarf, face blank with despair, muttered,

"Goddess... please protect us from this demon..."

KWA-A-A-A-A-AANG!

A massive black flash struck the wall. The screams of dwarves rang through the air.

It was the moment hell opened.

***

The Julien Mercenary Corps had been scattered across Vallscrum in advance, exactly according to plan. Julien, Kyle, and Ereneth—each of them at the highest level—were leading their own squads. Lionel, who had lost his divine power, had grown weaker, so they had assigned him the slightly stronger. Оsvald as backup. Below them, five mercenaries were attached to each leader. Their mission was to stall the enemy when they invaded and to guide the dwarves into regrouping near the royal fortress. The only one who remained by Ghislain’s side was Deneb—because she had to conserve as much of her power as possible for now.

Boom! Boom! Boooom!

Distant tremors and explosions echoed. Without hesitation, Julien hurled his body toward the source of the noise. Dark quickly caught up and shouted,

"They’re here! The enemies just broke in!"

Ghislain had assigned one Dark to each squad—not just for communication, but also to assist in emergencies, infusing them with plenty of mana. Julien nodded at Dark’s words. They were already close, having been stationed in the outermost residential district.

It wasn’t long after running in the direction Dark pointed that Julien saw the swarm of monsters charging ahead.

"...So they really came."

Just as expected. The black mages were dropping monsters from the sky, and from below, the modified sandworms were erupting from underground.

"M-Monsters!"

"Aaaah! What the hell is that!"

"Get out of here! Evacuate the children first!"

The dwarves were thrown into chaos. Everyone was panicking at the sudden raid, and only the children and elderly had barely begun to retreat. But dwarves were a warrior race. Even in the confusion, most grabbed weapons and blindly tried to charge at the enemy.

Julien, having drawn close, shouted loudly, "Run! You can’t fight here!"

"What?! A human? What the hell are you talking about!"

"The enemy is attacking from all sides! If you fight here, you’ll be picked off one by one! You need to regroup near the royal fortress!"

"Don’t talk nonsense! Why should we trust you?!"

The dwarves didn’t listen to Julien. They weren’t naïve enough to heed the words of a human who suddenly showed up in the middle of a disaster. Some even looked at him with suspicion.

Grinding his teeth, Julien pulled out the metal rod Ghislain had given him.

"Dark!"

Dark, who had been imbued with a vast amount of Ghislain’s mana, instantly swelled in size. Julien grabbed one of Dark’s legs as he soared into the air. Then, Dark charged toward the monsters while Julien extended the rod forward.

"Ghislain!"

—Master! Now’s the time!

Ghislain still sat cross-legged atop the magic circle, eyes closed in meditation. But he looked different from usual. Due to the influence of the mana-converging formation excessively drawing in surrounding magic, Ghislain’s body floated in midair. The moment Julien and Dark’s cry reached him in his consciousness, mana erupted from Ghislain’s body in Julien’s direction.

Crackle!

Blinding blue light shot out toward the rune stones embedded around the area. That light then continued to travel toward another rune stone placed a bit farther away. These rune stones had been secretly planted all throughout Vallscrum by the Julien Mercenary Corps. Ghislain’s mana followed a complexly designed magic circuit, passing through numerous steps and layers—but all of it happened in an instant.

Moving at nearly the speed of light, the mana reached Julien’s location in a flash. And finally—

Crack!

Ghislain’s mana reached the metal rod Julien was holding. At that moment—

KWA-A-A-A-A-AANG!

A colossal lightning spell exploded from the rod. A massive bolt of lightning tore through the air and struck the sandworm square in the body. Branches of lightning burst out from there, sweeping through the monsters approaching from the sky.

BOOM! BOOM! KRAK-BOOOM!

The monsters’ flesh burned and black smoke exploded in midair.

"W-What the...?"

The dwarves who had been charging recklessly all stopped in their tracks. They stood frozen, stunned, just watching the scene.

GRAAAAAHHHH!

The sandworm twisted its body and screamed in agony. It wasn’t undead—it was a modified chimera. The high-ranking priest of the Salvation Order who had been standing on the sandworm’s head hastily released energy to protect it and retreated. The black mages following behind the priest recoiled in shock and scattered away.

The black mages following behind the priest recoiled in shock and scattered away.

"W-What was that...?"

The priest was flustered. The magic that had just exploded was powerful enough to harm even a superhuman like himself. They had clearly targeted the outer residential zone, assuming it would be poorly defended—yet such a powerful spell had erupted out of nowhere. The priest hesitated, trying to assess the situation amidst the unexpected development.

Even the dwarves, caught off guard by the sudden event, just stood with dazed expressions, not even thinking to run. Only Julien clutched the metal rod tightly, smiling with hope.

"Amazing. That’s Ghislain for you."

This was Ghislain manifesting magic remotely. The process was simple: companions who didn’t know magic would determine the timing and direction, and Ghislain would send the corresponding mana to activate the spell. The rune stones planted throughout Vallscrum served as relays.

Of course, it wasn’t an easy task. It required countless rune stones, and Ghislain had to trust his companions’ judgment while transmitting a massive amount of mana. Using the mana collected through the convergence formation reduced Ghislain’s own mana consumption, but enduring the backlash was no small matter.

But Ghislain had chosen this method. Because only by tying down the enemy in as many places as possible could the dwarves be evacuated.

—Master! Again!

Responding to Dark’s cry, Ghislain’s mana flowed once more into the metal rod.

KWA-A-A-A-AANG!

With a thunderous boom like a crack of thunder, a surge of powerful energy engulfed the enemies. The sandworm and priest held on and kept falling back, but the monsters surrounding them were instantly shattered, scattering in the sky.

But there were far too many enemies. Even a spell of this magnitude could only repel a single wave. And the metal rod itself had a limit to how much mana it could withstand.

Crackle...

At last, the metal rod began to fracture. Shards of broken metal scattered from Julien’s hand.