From a position at the center of the village, he issued orders from horseback.
Looking up at the sky, a Griffon gazed down from high above.
All around, the cries and screams of Monsters mixed with the war cries and shouts of knights, soldiers, and villagers.
They outnumbered the Monsters.
But the number of actual fighters among them was small.
Even so—
'A defensive battle puts us at an advantage, but let's see how the Griffon moves... Hey, the Orcs are charging in at just the right spot!'
As the Fifth Generation had pointed out, several Orcs were trying to charge through the gate that had been deliberately left open for them.
The Third Generation spoke.
'Truly splendid. Shall we go and welcome them?'
When I imagined that grinning face, I shouted at the top of my lungs.
"Use the trap on the east side! Get the orders out!"
Three men struck the great bell the designated number of times. In response, the bell's chime echoed back, signaling that the message had been received.
The small village was in chaos, but orders within it had to be short and precise—just as the ancestors had instructed.
A ragtag expedition force couldn't issue complex orders, and they wouldn't get through anyway.
On the east side, the one stationed there was Miranda.
The trap was a simple one.
Shannon poked her head out of the Porter.
"Stay inside!"
"Doesn't it bother you?!"
Was she worried about her sister? Shannon was watching the eastern side.
(Can she see that far? Her eyes really are incredible.)
While I was thinking that, Marcus, who was nearby, called out to me.
"Hey, is this really going to be alright? If they keep flooding in like this—"
The Sixth Generation was irritated, and even though Marcus couldn't hear it, he shouted.
"Don't make a racket around the Commander! You'll make everyone anxious!"
The Seventh Generation was equally cool.
"Lyle's first defensive battle... and with only these people to work with."
Why are my ancestors enjoying this? I can't understand it, and I don't even want to.
"If they flow in, we simply fight them as they come. We've made preparations for exactly that."
With that, I surveyed the entire battlefield using my Skills.
Some areas weren't going well, but others were steadily reducing the number of Monsters.
As expected, the difference in commanders' experience was showing.
(Clark's side is doing well. As I thought, crossbows really are powerful.)
The Third Generation, clearly enjoying herself, spoke up.
"Playing commander while flying through the sky? Still so young... I thought they could do a bit more, but how disappointing."
The Fourth Generation added as well.
"Defensive battles favor us, after all. They didn't have any other choice. Well, Griffons probably don't care how many small fry get taken out, do they? Lyle, make sure your command stands out."
If they're smart, they'll be watching me from the sky.
Who is the one giving orders...
When the messenger came running, I listened to the report.
To be blunt, it wasn't really necessary — but it was meant to show from the sky who was in command.
I was waiting for the Griffons and Hippogriffs circling above to make their move.
——At the eastern gate, Miranda had just opened the door at the perfect moment for the charging Orcs.
The gate, soaked in water and smeared with mud, had ropes attached to it, ready to be opened at any time.
Even though it was still bright morning, Miranda was in high spirits with a torch in hand.
"As expected of Lyle. He really knows when to use me."
On the inside of the gate, barricades had been set up.
The log ends were sharpened to repel anyone trying to enter, and the gaps between the barricades were too narrow for even Goblins to pass through.
Soldiers had taken position to thrust spears through those gaps.
When the gate opened and the Orcs came charging in, Miranda saw them widen their eyes in surprise — they hadn't expected that.
Though there were barricades, the surrounding soldiers and knights were still visibly shaken by the Orc charge.
But the Orcs that had committed to ramming couldn't stop, and once they made it inside the gate, they tried to brace themselves.
"What a shame."
As Miranda smiled, they lost their footing, unable to hold their ground, and were pushed from behind straight onto the sharpened stakes.
The Monsters kept pouring in one after another, but with spears thrust through the gaps, neither the Orcs nor the Goblins could do anything.
Miranda raised her torch, and the nearby soldiers hurled oil-filled bags.
Once the bags burst open, Miranda tossed her torch in.
"Overcapacity reached."
Despite her sweet tone, the burning Monsters were screaming their death cries.
Among them, Monsters that used their comrades as stepping stones to get beyond the fence were being impaled on spears by knights and soldiers to finish them off.
A one-eyed eerie bird swooped down from the sky to attack Miranda, but she hurled a knife that buried itself in its head, sending it crashing to the ground.
There were other small flying Monsters, but the gold-crazed knights, soldiers, and villagers chased them down and finished them off.
"There are so few. Bring me three times this many."
Miranda remarked that the number of Monsters was lacking, then called out to a soldier holding a bell a short distance away to signal their success.
The bell rang out, announcing the trap's success.
Immediately, a bell answer came back from the central area.
"Right, close the gate. I'm putting out the fire, so fall back."
Soldiers picked up nearby buckets and doused the fence with water.
The charred remains of the fallen Monsters on the ground gave off a foul stench.
Miranda pressed a cloth over her mouth without so much as grimacing.
The soldiers worked to close the gate with their tools, while the Knights dealt with the Monsters that had already made it through.
A soldier nearby called out to Miranda.
"That went well, Miranda!"
But Miranda offered only a single word in reply: "Yes, it did."
(In fact, this was more of a sideshow. The real battlefield is where Aria is.)
Miranda worried briefly about Aria on the northern front, but quickly shifted her focus.
(Now then, will anything troublesome show up?)
Glancing at the celebrating knights and soldiers around her, Miranda ordered them to return to their positions at once.
On the northern side, fireballs were being hurled toward the gate.
Goblins in robes were raising their staves and casting magic.
But—
"Target the goblins in robes! Leave the rest for later!"
Clark issued orders while firing a crossbow at the Monsters.
Inside the walls, they had built scaffolding and were sniping the Monsters from there.
The gate area had no moat and was passable, so the Monsters had naturally congregated there.
"But there's an Orc!"
A soldier with a crossbow shouted, but Clark handed off his spent crossbow to a subordinate, took back a reloaded one, and bellowed as he did so.
He immediately leveled it toward the outside of the wall.
"If they get through, they'll flood in all at once! Take out the dangerous ones first!"
The shouting soldier knew that Orcs carried higher bounties. That was why he wanted to aim for the Orcs.
Clark stuck to the fundamentals—prioritizing the Monsters that were firing magic inward—and conducted his attack accordingly.
Only he seemed capable of landing aimed shots; most of the arrows missed.
Part of it was nerves, but the Monsters were screaming right nearby.
An Orc was hammering at the gate and looked like it could burst through at any moment.
(Even if we've set traps, you'd still feel uneasy—)
His aimed shot struck a robed goblin, and one went down.
They weren't reducing the enemy numbers as much as he'd hoped.
(At this rate, leaving things as they are and handing off to her is a bit much—)
On the other side of the gate, Aria stood waiting for the Monsters to break through.
With the Hippogriffs already taken down on the second day, the surroundings were calm.
Nobody was worried that Aria would fall to something as manageable as an Orc.
There were no absolutes in this world.
Even a warrior capable of bringing down an Orc could lose their life if surrounded by Goblins.
Clark understood that just as they had the upper hand, the tide could turn either way depending on how things were handled.
"Come on, take out at least these ones... Got it!"
His aimed shot struck home, and he finished off the robed Goblin that had been giving him trouble. But a scream rang out—a soldier near him had tumbled from the scaffolding.
"H-Help meeee!!"
A black, crow-like, one-eyed Monster had attacked him, sending him falling from the platform. It looked like he'd broken a bone.
He immediately stopped the soldier who was raising his crossbow.
"Don't shoot! You focus on the Monsters outside!"
He was afraid of friendly fire, but more importantly, everyone had their roles to fulfill.
The knights who had rushed over were beating the Monsters back with their spears. Once the fallen soldier was helped up, they carried him off as a casualty.
The impact of the fall had snapped the crossbow's string, rendering one of them useless.
"Have someone accompany him as an escort! Everyone else, keep targeting the Monsters outside!"
There were still countless Monsters beyond the wall.
Even if they could defeat them, with this many breaking through, casualties were only going to pile up.
Clark continued loosing arrows without pause.
Once he learned that things had succeeded at Miranda's position, I decided to send a messenger.
"Send ten reinforcements from the east side to the north! Ten of them!"
"Right away!"
Watching the messenger dash off, I looked up at the sky.
The Griffon that wasn't making a move was still hovering overhead, looking down at us — as if reducing the Monsters' numbers meant nothing as long as it stayed put.
The Second Generation spoke.
"Just charge them all at once! You could attack from the air, there's all sorts of options!"
(Whose side are you on?)
The Third Generation, meanwhile—
"Rael, look after Marcus and the others too, will you? They're getting pretty irritated, so why not shuffle some work their way?"
(Why are they irritated? I literally told them they had proper tasks!)
The Fourth Generation—
"Don't focus on just one point. Keep your eyes on the whole field. And get Marcus's group ready to head north as support before the Griffon makes its move."
(I have to keep my eyes on the whole field in order to judge that timing…)
The Fifth Generation…
"Yeah, that thing's a nuisance for sure."
(It is a nuisance, yes, but we've got a contract… Why is our own side giving me more trouble?)
The Griffons continued to stare down at us from above without showing any sign of movement.
The Second Generation spoke again.
"…Something's off here. Those ones up top might just be letting the fodder wear us down, then swooping in once we're exhausted."
The Seventh Generation chimed in.
"It looks young, you see. If it grew just a little more, it'd be nicely intelligent, but…"
The Sixth Generation was cheerful for some reason.
"Lyle, do you have rope or cloth on you? And take down the Griffon in one blow. It sells for a lot, you know."
The Fifth Generation added.
"Blood spray and whatnot'll make you slip. So when you climb on its back—"
(Not climbing on it!)
I looked up at the sky from horseback, took a deep breath, and surveyed my surroundings.
The ones glaring up at me with dissatisfaction were Marcus and the others, whom I'd stationed around me. They were getting irritable, wondering when their turn would finally come.
In contrast, Norma was sitting in a chair, perfectly calm.
(…What's with her? I mean, I know she gave me command, but couldn't she at least look a little more frustrated about it?)
Ignoring the noisy Jewel, I turned to Marcus and the others.
"…After a little while, I'm going to need you to head north as reinforcements. Make sure you're ready to move at a moment's notice."
Marcus clearly perked up, but the one who'd reached his breaking point was Bread.
"When?! At this rate, the whole battle is going to be over before we even get to fight!"
Marcus tried to calm Bread down.
"H-hey."
"Shut up! I am staking my life on this battle!"
Staking his life on it.
When I heard those words, I thought to myself—
That at this level—
.
Then, a piercing cry echoed from the sky. The cry was louder than that of a hippogriff, so I looked up and immediately issued orders to the messengers nearby.
"Don't let up the defense on the north gate! Tell the east side that hippogriffs are coming!"
The two messengers took off running.
And then I turned to Marcus and the others, who were also looking up at the sky.
"Stay where you are! They're coming for me!"
Bread shouted.
"Why?! I can be useful too!"
On the map I was viewing through my Skills, one hippogriff had broken away and was heading for the eastern gate.
The Fourth Generation spoke.
*"They might've gone for the spot where we cut down their numbers. Should've just had Lael charge in with three of them head-on. Or piled everything into one spot."*
The Second Generation followed.
*"At that point we'd just send reinforcements and be done with it. But seriously, the Fifth and Sixth Generations' Skills are handy. Would've loved to have those back in my day too."*
I left Bread behind and spurred my horse forward.
I kept my distance from Porter to assess the situation, but both the Griffon and the hippogriff were following me.
Just as expected — they were coming to take out the commander.
The Third Generation spoke.
*"Lael, want me to take care of that annoying hippogriff? He's got a real pretender-to-the-throne complex. The kind of guy who'd be insufferable if he were human."*
I wondered whether Monsters even had personality types, but looking up from horseback, it was the hippogriff that made the first move.
I activated a Skill.
Using a Skill to unleash power beyond my limits—Limit Burst.
The Second Generation's Skill, Field—covering an even wider area than All.
I leapt from the horse, sent it running to safety, then raised my right arm.
"Lightning!"
Purple lightning crackled forth, surging toward the Hippogriff and the Griffon.
The Hippogriff couldn't dodge and took the hit head-on, but the Griffon deftly avoided it with room to spare.
The Hippogriff, electrocuted, crashed to the ground.
But it was still alive.
Marcus and the others, who were supposed to be on standby, came rushing over.
"Hey!"
"Get out of here!"
"You think we can do that?! We're not leaving either!"
That was what the Second Generation said.
*I've got a bad feeling about this.*
That was the Seventh Generation.
*Norma, leave the Hippogriff to these guys. You focus on the Griffon.*
I gave my orders immediately.
"Then put the Hippogriff down for good. It's still alive, so be careful!"
With that said, I looked up at the sky.
The Griffon was circling overhead, watching me—it seemed to have decided I was its prey. Our sharp gazes met.
Sixth Generation speaks.
“Ha ha ha, you’ve been glared down by a Griffon, Lyaire! Excellent! It’s proof that you’ve been recognized as a worthy opponent!”
Not exactly a welcome sentiment, but I dash forward anyway, drawing my Saber with my right hand while casting magic with my left.
I unleash Purple Lightning repeatedly, but the Griffon dodges every attack.
(A troublesome foe!)
I’d never imagined an aerial enemy could be this much of a pain. Frustrated, I watch as the Griffon suddenly dives.
Meanwhile, Bread and the others, as per Lyaire’s instructions, have surrounded the Hippogriff.
“Hey, we just gotta stab it with a spear, right?”
“Wouldn’t it be better to just cut its head off?”
The leader of the trio, a young man, prepares to thrust his spear first since his two companions are dazing about.
However, Bread stops him.
“What are you doing? With Monsters like this, the fewer external wounds, the higher the selling price. Besides, many nobles buy them for taxidermy. You need to stab it in the heart.”
The young man looks at the Hippogriff.
“The heart? Uh, I don’t know where that is, and we need to finish it off before it moves again…”
Marcus seems to agree, as he moves to plant his spear.
“Let’s hurry up and finish this so we can move on. There’s no more money to be made here.”
Bread takes a spear and thrusts it precisely into the intended spot.
“…I dislike agreeing with you, but you’re right that staying here won’t earn us anything. Let’s leave immediately. And don’t forget to mention that I was the one who minimized the external wounds.”
Marcus glares at Bread and clicks his tongue.
“It’s probably burnt to a crisp by now anyway.”
Bread stared at the charred hippogriff with undisguised contempt.
Even things he'd normally shrug off became unbearable the moment Laiel was involved.
He wrenched his spear free, flicked off the blood, and dashed ahead.
"Hey, wait up! I'm the captain here!"
Marcus sprinted north to keep up, and the trio followed close behind.
—But none of the five noticed the hippogriff's foreleg twitch ever so slightly.—