I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills-Chapter 111 : Chapter 111

Chapter 111. Treaty (3)
Boom! Kwagwang…!
The sound of cannon fire shook the ground.
Shwaaaaaa-
The sound of shells falling, tearing through the wind.
Thud! Thump-
An intense white radiance exploded at the end of it.
“Luark is watching over us!”
“Die, all you necrophiliac bastards!”
The cheers of the morale-boosted soldiers.
“Master of the hammer….”
Balkan, son of Ungol, stared blankly at the scene before him.
Nearly ten thousand undead were literally melting away.
It was an artillery barrage.
A volley from mortars with twice the range of ordinary Imperial mortars.
Although Balkan was an illegitimate child, he was of a bloodline that could one day become king.
Therefore, he had studied various strategies and tactics from an early age, including information on the major races and powers of the continent.
To his knowledge, the army of the Vampire Archduchy was famous for employing tactics that consisted solely of charges in open-field battles.
There was a reason for this.
It was because artillery or gunfire was less effective against the undead, who had already died once.
Normally, if a living being was hit in the arm or leg by a bullet, arrow, or shrapnel, they would be forced to lie down.
The undead were not like that.
Those who felt no pain would continue to move according to the orders of their caster or commanding entity, whether a bullet was lodged in their leg bone or an arm was blown off by the blast pressure.
As long as their heads were undamaged, they would advance even by crawling if their lower body was blown away.
For this reason, the undead were a considerable nemesis for the dwarves, whose main force was their artillery corps, but….
Thud-!
The pillar of light that shot up from the point of the shell’s impact shattered that common sense.
Thud-!
The waves emanating from the pillar of light melted away all the undead in the vicinity.
The flesh of zombies crumbled.
The bones of skeleton soldiers turned to dust and scattered.
It took only about thirty minutes for the enemy force, which was twice our number, to be reduced by half.
No matter that their composition was entirely zombies and skeletons, it was a surprising feat considering that our mortars were not that numerous compared to their numbers, which approached ten thousand.
As someone from a race that was a predecessor to artillery corps, Balkan felt a sense of astonishment and slight bewilderment as he opened his mouth.
“Viscount, is that… a miracle of the Luark Church?”
“That’s right. It’s the result of the harmony between gunpowder and faith, two of the four great powers of the Empire.”
“Four great powers? I was under the impression that the Empire’s powers were steel, magic, and faith, the three great powers.”
“That’s a blasphemous statement. You can’t leave out gunpowder. They are the four great powers of the Empire.”
“Ah?”
“Steel, magic, faith, and gunpowder. The four great powers.”
Viscount Wolfskrig emphasized, furrowing his brow.
Not wanting to needlessly displease him, Balkan nodded.
Human culture changes quickly, so it could be possible.
After all, it had been some forty years since he last visited the Empire.
Boom! Kwagwang….
Before long, the shelling subsided.
It was because the enemy had come close enough.
The number of survivors was less than a quarter of the initial force.
The melee would begin soon.
Balkan gripped his two-handed hammer.
Around that time, the Viscount raised his hand again.
“2nd Battalion, volley fire.”
And Balkan’s jaw dropped once again.
“Volley fire!”
“Riflemen, fire!”
Tatatatang!
The riflemen on both flanks of the formation spat fire.
The crossbowmen and archers positioned in the rear fired their arrows.
The enemies caught in the hail of fire were falling one after another.
This was despite the common knowledge that undead wouldn't die unless their heads were destroyed, and that it was difficult to deal with them with arrows and bullets, though artillery was a different story.
‘How…?’
Looking closely, the riflemen were accurately hitting the head or upper body with almost one out of every two shots.
Balkan quickly realized.
That was not forming a wall of fire, but aimed shots.
Did that mean every single rifleman was a sniper?
When he looked at the crossbow unit with wide eyes, they were taking it a step further.
“Free fire! Don’t stop shooting!”
“Yes!”
Before nocking their arrows, the crossbowmen and archers were tilting small bottles to apply some liquid to the arrowheads.
The undead hit by those arrows, even those hit roughly in the body or legs, trembled and then collapsed as if paralyzed, rolling on the ground.
It wasn't poison.
Poison wouldn't work on the undead.
In that case, there was only one answer….
“Don’t tell me, holy water…?”
“It’s a diluted holy water solution.”
“What??”
Even if it was diluted, where did they get that much holy water in the first place?
Holy water, even the cheap kind, was as expensive as gold of the same weight.
It didn't make sense unless there was a saint in the viscounty.
It was incomprehensible, but the question did not last long.
The undead finally broke through the hail of fire.
Their number was merely a thousand or so.
“Three hundred meters!”
“Riflemen, fall back. Halberdiers, forward. 1st Battalion, shield wall. Crossbowmen and archers, prepare for arcing fire once the front line is fixed.”
“Two hundred meters!”
“Scouts, Nameless Knights, hit the enemy from behind. Church Army, move to the flanks and perform a flanking maneuver.”
“One hundred meters!”
“Brace for impact!”
The Viscount shouted.
He ran forward.
In his left hand was a staff that formed a Shield like a buckler, and in his right was a sword brimming with holy Aura.
He ran like he was flying between the soldiers, slaughtering the undead.
Instinctively following him, Balkan thought.
This man.
Couldn't the Viscount solve it?
The dwarves’ long-standing division that had endangered the Everlasting Mountains Hold, and the problems of old customs that had now become shackles.
He needed an ally.
An ally he could trust his back to.
The end was approaching.
A delegation from the east had recently delivered a story that the shadow of the Outer Gods, backed by a faction called the 'Church', had fallen upon the Eastern Empire.
It meant that the warnings of the apocalypse were no longer just the prophecies of a few extremist mystics among the rune artisans.
If he was to one day succeed his father and become the king of the Hold, wouldn't this man be a suitable candidate for an ally?
If so, it would be better to score some points now.
With that thought, Balkan raised his two-handed hammer.
“For the God of the Hammer and the ancestors!”
The skull of a skeleton soldier shattered like porcelain under the swung hammer.
***
[[Warrior’s Binding] is deployed.]
[The slain enemy has been bound.]
[Wight(3), Skeleton Spearman(95), Skeleton Swordsman(77), Zombie(219), Vampiric Bat(2)]
***
To be honest, it could hardly be called a battle.
The undead army of eight thousand was literally melted away.
First, the barrage of shells applying the [Consecrated Cannon] technology, a joint creation of William, Alina, and the Black Magic Tower, reduced their numbers to a quarter.
The 2nd Battalion’s volley fire cut even that number in half.
In the 2nd Battalion, the rifle squad trained in precision shooting was active, but the performance of the crossbow and archer units was particularly outstanding.
It was thanks to the diluted holy water solution Alina had made.
She had started brewing holy water after gaining a holy water crafting trait last month, or the month before.
Well, it seemed more fitting to say she was mass-producing it every three days like a factory rather than carefully brewing it.
‘Holy water? This is a secret, but you just offer up some water and pray. How did I suddenly become able to make it? Uh… an angel of Luark appeared in my dream and told me?’
That was what she had whispered during a late-night secret meeting.
If other cardinals heard that, wouldn't they grab the back of their necks?
At this point, wasn't she practically a candidate for sainthood…?
Anyway, the remnants that survived to the end were quickly cleaned up by the 1st Battalion and the knight order.
With the cliché but reliable hammer and anvil tactic.
After the army returned, the city was colored with a festive atmosphere.
It was only natural, having blocked an undead army of nearly ten thousand with little damage.
However, a real battle was a real battle.
Casualties inevitably occurred.
As always, I read each last will and compensated the bereaved families.
A peculiar point was that requests for immigration were frequently seen in the last wills.
[My wife and child still live in Gunterburk. If I die, could you please bring them to Wolfskrig?]
[My old mother lives in the village of Moltenale, south of Pelburheim. I was planning to bring her to Wolfskrig once I earned enough money. Viscount, I know this is shameless, but if I die, I implore you to do this for me.]
Eleven people died in this battle.
Their remains did not need to be burned.
The necromantic mana that had been rampant throughout the land now only remained in small amounts in the corners of the viscounty.
Even if buried without burning, they would not rise again.
Dong- Dong-
A cemetery area was created in the northwest of the city.
It was named the ‘Hall of Heroes’.
The remains of the fallen will be buried here from now on.
People coming and going in the city could, with a slight detour, honor the heroes who built this city with their blood.
“The light of Luark will embrace the souls of those who shed their blood to protect their families, their homeland, and the Empire. And their noble sacrifice will forever remain in our hearts….”
It was the third day since the Viscount’s army had returned to the city.
I attended the memorial service led by Alina.
While the festive city was briefly submerged in mourning, I left the city in the middle of the night.
Whether it was a gift or an invasion, we had blocked the undead legion, but this was not the end.
The relationship between Wolfskrig and the Vampire Archduchy was not just the overt hostility that was apparent on the surface.
“Kkumteuli.”
‘Ready, Master.’
I put on the mask for the first time in a while.
Now that I had shown my strength, it was time to enter the proper diplomatic negotiations.
***
The western part of the Wolfskrig Viscounty is mostly forest.
This vast forest, which occupies twenty percent of the viscounty, was the route through which the great beastman warrior, ‘The Consecrator of the Beast Hide,’ had previously invaded.
At the same time, it was where the viscounty’s core, the mine, was located, and it was also the site of newly cleared farmland.
[[Sprinter] is deployed.]
[[Marathoner] is deployed.]
I ran along the narrow path between the fields.
I passed the seedbeds and rice paddies where rice planting was in full swing, crossed the fields where sugarcane was growing vigorously, and headed towards the outskirts of the viscounty.
After obtaining the [Sprinter] trait, I often ran alone like this.
The effect of the [Sprinter] trait was to drastically increase short-distance sprinting speed.
However, when combined with the [Marathoner] trait, it had a hidden effect of producing a stable and fast speed, almost on par with a pony.
When I ran like this, I would sometimes think of the old days.
The memories of a time when I used to circle the red track alone on the school grounds at sunset, after the students had gone home.
Although the place, the time, and even the speed of my running had changed, some things remained the same.
The suppressed breathing.
The pounding of my heart.
Things like my hair, drenched in sweat, jostling as if dancing.
Just before my breath reached the tip of my chin, I stopped running in a forest clearing of a suitable size.
“…Hoo.”
I had arrived.
This place was a good distance further past the cleared fields and paddies.
A little further from here was the border of the viscounty.
Crossing the border and going deeper would lead to the Black Forest, which could be called the stronghold of the beastmen.
I had no immediate business there.
To open trade routes with the Theocracy or the City-State Alliance, and thereby further solidify Wolfskrig’s position, I would have to visit someday.
Before that, I had to resolve the matter of the southern border, today’s destination.
This clearing was merely a stopover on the way to my destination.
What I was to take from this stopover was military force.
After all, a proper diplomat of this era should have an escort of troops.
“Kihi… Arise.”
When I spoke with a little mana, the ground began to stir.
The flat, packed ground swelled up.
Soon, shaking off clumps of dirt, huge shadows began to rise one by one from the darkness.
They were Necro Ogers.
Masses of corpses with entangled beast heads, pelts, intestines, muscles, and limbs.
In just a few minutes, the forest clearing was filled with over five hundred Necro Ogers.
The largest individual among them approached me.
The creature tilted its head.
U-eong…?