It was a place that had once been a fort.
But now it had become a fortress meant to house triple walls and ten thousand troops.
Redant Fort — now dubbed Redant Fortress — was beginning to take shape.
Clutching the Jewel, I gazed down at the fortress from above while riding atop May in her Kirin form. Using my Skills to map out the terrain in three dimensions, I surveyed the fortress while conversing with the Successive Heads inside the Jewel.
At times like this, having May — who knew the full picture — was a godsend.
The Fifth Generation checked over the fortress.
"Defense against magic only needs to be on the surface. Since we're short on time, build it with the assumption it'll only be used once. As long as the final wall is done thoroughly, the other two can fall without issue."
Slapping on materials coated with a thin layer that reflected magical power would make a significant difference on its own — but against an army of several hundred thousand, it was far from enough.
Ideally, I would have wanted to construct the entire fortress out of magic-resistant materials. But there was no time, so that was off the table.
We reviewed the traps as well. Losing the first and second walls was part of the plan, and traps were to be placed in the spaces between those walls.
The Third Generation looked over the nearly completed fortress.
"Oil, gunpowder, arrows, ammunition... we're short, but there are plenty of ways to work around that. The real problem is the sky."
Apparently, when fighting a massive army of monsters, the biggest headache was ones that could fly.
I hadn't yet experienced battle against a horde that large, but apparently there was a huge difference between monsters and humans.
It came down to the fact that monsters don't retreat.
A human force could withdraw if it realized it couldn't win. But monsters had no such thinking — they just kept charging forward until the very end.
That meant you could funnel them into traps. But their breakthrough power was on another level entirely.
And among those terrifying armies, the most troublesome were the flying monsters. They could fly right over the walls and strike at the rear.
If they soared high into the air, they were an enemy we could barely touch. More than that, even a powerful Griffon would spell doom if it made it to the top of the wall — ordinary soldiers stood no chance against one.
I turned my gaze toward where the monster army was approaching the fortress.
"We could keep whittling them down bit by bit, but it doesn't look like they've taken any real damage so far."
The first time, I borrowed Shannon's eyes to conduct a reconnaissance.
The second time, I moved out alongside May to cut down the more troublesome monsters.
The third time—I launched hundreds of arrows of light at the monsters, but they were blocked by those among them who excelled at magic.
There had to be several thousand flying monsters alone. The ones I'd managed to defeat didn't even number a hundred out of that total.
I wanted to keep chipping away at them like this, but I had other duties to attend to.
"Personally, I'd rather just charge in and crush them right now. More importantly, is there even a point in having me show up like this? Humans really fixate on that sort of thing, don't they?"
May shook her head in exasperation, and the Fifth Generation—who was connected through the Connection—spoke to her.
"Just bear with it, May. You see, at times like this, morale is more important than anything. Monsters don't have such a thing, but humans need the will to fight."
Without that, the human side would crumble easily.
No matter how much we claimed we would win, it meant nothing if they didn't believe it.
"I'll do my best! I promise!"
Watching May perk up after being told off by the Fifth Generation, I couldn't help but smile bitterly.
I checked the traps laid along the advance route.
We had prepared as much as we could, but the successive heads said that traps on this scale wouldn't reduce their numbers by any meaningful amount.
Apparently, it was better than doing nothing, but only barely. Pits and such would simply be filled in by the sheer mass of monsters, creating a path through. Against hundreds of thousands, even slaughtering a few thousand with traps was a rounding error.
On top of that, this particular monster army—the worst thing about it was how well-balanced it was.
They had aerial combatants, and a great number of monsters that excelled at magic as well. They wouldn't coordinate, but the concentrated magical assault on the fortress was plain to see.
The saving grace—if you could call it that—was that the terrain had cliffs on all sides around the fortress, which at least limited where the enemy could attack from.
The Seventh Generation spoke up.
"Well, holed up in a fortress is the more favorable position. Even if the enemy outnumbers us by more than ten to one."
Thinking purely in terms of troop disparity, it certainly seemed like they would be overrun.
"Well, we've done everything we could."
The Fourth Generation appeared to be nodding along with an "mm-hmm."
"Right. We've done almost everything that could be done in this short time. Gathered funds to bolster our military strength. Converted the fortress into a stronghold, with future countermeasures against Banseim in mind. We recruited the elves, and we've been promoting Laiel as a hero who stood against overwhelmingly unfavorable odds. Sure, I would've liked even more fighting strength, but still."
They had borrowed troops from Zayin and Rolfis.
For those two nations, it must have been a considerable nuisance. The upper echelons would have been happy to see debts decrease, but for the rank and file, it was an outrageous request.
The mercenaries and adventurers had been rounded up by Baim, who had conscripted them to bolster his own defenses—pulling them away from urban areas and rear-line defensive operations.
He had also called for volunteers from villages near the border, but they hadn't even reached a thousand. Gathering more from here—how many could they possibly recruit? And on top of that, they were barely useful as soldiers.
They had weapons, but none had received military training.
(Of course, the real goal isn't to have them fight.)
In times like these, Baim would never mobilize his own citizens as soldiers. That was why recruitment had been so poor.
The Third Generation spoke.
"Alright, Laiel. The situation is hopeless. Challenging a battle under these circumstances is a mistake! Everyone would think so, wouldn't they?"
"I suppose they would. But—"
"—That's exactly why it works!"
I could somehow picture the Third Generation wearing a scheming grin.
—The eastern guild in Baim.
At the reception counter, Marianne was radiating fury.
"I'm telling you it's no good! There's no mandatory participation for you lot, either! There's no point in throwing your lives away for nothing!"
The ones she was addressing were Erhard and his group. Even Marianne, who was usually soft and puffy, was seething with fury, and the surrounding adventurers as well as Erhard and his companions were all visibly confused.
The other reception staff were also staring at Marianne in shock.
"Bu-but, Marianne. We've already got our gear together... Besides, if we join, we'll get paid, and the pay rates outside the city are way higher..."
Even Erhard, who was always the confident type, was flustered and stumbling over his words in the face of Marianne's fury.
"You just got your equipment together and you think you're ready for the big leagues? Don't be ridiculous. Listen—if you go in with that kind of thinking, you will absolutely die! What you've been doing up until now is running errands and occasionally taking on Monsters outside the city between jobs. How much stronger have you actually gotten in just a few months? You really don't understand at all, do you?"
It was always Marianne's job to speak kindly to newcomers, but this time she had completely forgotten about her role.
Erhard and his group—
"What—what the hell! We can handle it! Besides, you're the one who told us we had talent, Marianne!"
Marianne looked down and bit her lower lip. Then she clenched her fists, barely holding back tears as she forced herself into the most unpleasant smile she could manage.
"I say that to everyone, you know. It's not like you're anything special. There are plenty of adventurers out there just like you. All I have to do is praise you and flatter you a little, and you'll happily take on the nasty jobs for me—that's the only reason I bother being nice."
She brushed her hair back and directed a mocking smirk at Erhard and his companions.
"Y-you really thought of us that way this whole time? We were truly grateful to Marianne—"
"Hah? Don't flatter yourself. So what? Could you hurry up and pick a job you can actually handle instead of getting in my way?"
What Marianne handed over to Erhard and his group right then was a commission for manual labor in the city's defense detail. It was a job for non-combatants.
Erhard and his group hung their heads. Among Erhard's companions, some were even crying.
They looked deeply shaken by the words of Marianne, who had always been the reliable, kind big sister figure.
Erhard silently signed the papers, then slammed them down on the counter.
"——After all the trust we had in you!"
Marianne processed the documents with a brusque attitude and handed an envelope to Erhard's group. They snatched it from her hands and walked away from the counter.
Watching this, Marianne let out a sigh of relief and relaxed her shoulders.
Before long, Tahnia came up to Marianne's side.
"Marianne, you're being called in."
Thinking to herself that she'd done it now, Marianne forced a thin smile to her lips and rose to her feet, then headed straight for the room where her superior was.
Tahnia took her place behind the reception counter and began dealing with the adventurers in her stead.
—The superior's office.
When Marianne had finished reporting what happened, her superior didn't seem particularly angry.
"Marianne, I thought you were smarter than that. If it's just one or two adventurer parties, you can send them to the front lines whenever you want. It's not something you need to feel responsible for."
Marianne hung her head.
After she finished reporting to her superior, she had been smiling just a little.
"I know, but… even so, when you watch over them for a while, you start to care. Those kids still have a future ahead of them. To let them die here—"
Her superior seemed to understand Marianne's feelings and let out a heavy sigh.
"That's exactly why I put you in charge of the newcomers. But today's incident will spread quickly. If people take it the wrong way, it'll cause problems for your work. From now on, I'm moving you to the third floor. Your time as the newcomer handler is over. …You did a good job up until now."
At her superior's words, Marianne felt tears welling up. Not from happiness—she simply pressed her hand to her mouth because she felt like she was about to cry.
"…Thank you very much. I'll take my leave."
With that, Marianne gave her response and left the superior's office.
—After things had settled down, Tahnia headed to the break room, where she happened to run into Ryue.
"Oh, good work today, Tahnia!"
Bright and energetic, and perhaps a bit over-familiar for someone dealing with a superior—but Ryue never put on an attitude toward those she absolutely must not offend.
That was how she got along at the workplace.
"Good work out there. How's it going on your end?"
Tahnia asked as she sat down in her chair, and Ryue's face lit up with a bright smile.
"I managed to get a group of adventurers who'll go to the key facilities outside the urban area. The pay is good too, and since it's my request, they said—"
Watching Ryue speak so happily, Tahnia remembered. She was still young, part of a generation that didn't know about the previous Dungeon rampage.
That was Ryue's generation.
"—so I asked the adventurer who's been really good to me, and they agreed! Apparently, they have something they want to tell me when they get back!"
From the way Ryue was acting, this had to be an adventurer she was on very good terms with. The veteran staff members listening nearby were casting sympathetic glances toward her.
Tahnia could more or less guess what kind of adventurer this was. They'd be classified as a skilled adventurer, but that meant skilled from the Guild's perspective.
If someone asked whether they were a truly powerful adventurer, she could only shake her head.
Ryue went on talking about Marianne.
"Speaking of which, I guess Senior finally reached her limit, huh? Those adventurers who only have dirty intentions, their eyes are just so creepy. Well, I feel for her."
What Tahnia and the veteran staff around her recalled upon seeing Ryue was Marianne.
When Marianne had first become a staff member, she was beautiful, young, and popular. Fussed over by everyone, she'd carried herself with an attitude much like Ryue's.
Tahnia thought to herself.
*I pray you don't become the second Marianne, Ryue.*
Amid the bustle of the Guild's operations, Tahnia felt a kind of generational shift beginning to take place—.
Redant Fortress.
Standing at its elevated ramparts, I was raising banners. Baim's was among them, but there were also Zayin's, Rolfis's—and the banner of House Walt.
A flag depicting a blue Jewel cradled by silver metalwork, one we had commissioned specially.
I donned the blue armor I'd had the blacksmith finish for me, tucked my helmet under my right arm, and turned around.
The assembled forces numbered twenty-six thousand. It was fewer than planned, but I accepted that there was nothing to be done about it.
Then, as the morning sun rose, black shadows appeared on the horizon. It was an army of Monsters.
"My comrades! Many of you must be thinking: why should we risk our lives for Baim? And: why should we obey the orders of a young upstart like me?"
I raised my voice and lifted my left hand, but the armed legion remained silent.
"This battle benefits Baim and Baim alone. Baim is operating on the assumption that this fortress will be breached. They refused to dispatch adventurers, chose to focus their strength on defending the urban districts, and are content to simply station adventurers and mercenaries at key locations!"
It was a truly terrible deal. Of course, Baim would have plenty of their own side of the story to tell, but none of Baim's people were here, so it didn't matter.
And it wasn't even a lie.
"It is unfair, I know. You, who would sacrifice your lives for your homeland, are fighting for a foreign country. …But should we abandon Baim? Should we retreat within our own borders and simply watch Baim suffer? It is not only Baim that the Monsters trample without reason — it is the people who live there! I will not allow that!"
From inside the Jewel, the Fourth Generation's voice came through.
"Mm, nice. You really need to drive home that you're different from Ceres right about here."
That was exactly what Mireia had been trying to tell me.
"Well, the differences are pretty subtle, to be honest. You're not lying, but you're not exactly telling the whole story either."
This speech — it wasn't directed at the soldiers alone. If anything, it was meant for the people of Baim I had gathered here.
It was an appeal: I'm going to do my best, but Baim has abandoned this place.
As I continued the speech, I drew a passable-looking sword from my hip. Not a katana — a broad, double-edged blade that looked impressive. I raised it to the heavens and raised my voice.
"If the Mandate of Heaven truly lies with me, then the Goddess will surely answer! I swear I will hold this ground and protect those who are being trampled!"
Just then, May came galloping through the sky in the form of a Kirin. The soldiers looked up, caught sight of the Kirin, and cried out.
"H-Hey! That's a Kirin!"
"You're kidding — is this really the Mandate of Heaven? —"
"This might be, this might actually be —"
"We can win. We can really win!"
"Yeah — we've got a Kirin on our side!"
(As expected of the symbol of fortune, huh.)
I'd been keeping May's existence hidden up until now, but I decided to deploy her here.
Plenty of encouraging voices rose up, but of course they were all planted. The Successive Heads never cut corners on even the smallest preparations like this.
When May landed by my side, the soldiers erupted in cheers. I could feel their morale soaring. The wave of excitement was almost enough to reach me.
"The blessing of the goddess is with us! We'll turn this Redant Fortress into a graveyard for the Monsters! Everyone, follow me!"
As I shouted at the top of my lungs, tens of thousands of soldiers called out my name, their voices merging into something grand and magnificent.
(Damn — I feel sick knowing I'm deceiving them.)
I loathed myself for giving a speech to boost morale, even as I did it.