Viscount Freis's face now clearly showed the feeling of, "What did this crazy bastard just say?" In his eyes right now, each and every soldier of the Schneider Barony displayed skills no less than that of a first-rate knight. To use such men as mere soldiers?
It made no sense. Everyone wishes to be treated according to their abilities. Even Viscount Freis himself knew that if he treated his knights as common soldiers, they would break their oaths and leave for another place.
Yet this madman was calling it economical to employ men who looked to be at least three-star level as soldiers. 'Wait, in that case, maybe...'
"Why? Are you tempted?” Lost in thought for a moment, Viscount Freis was startled. Seeing the viscount's expression, which showed he had hit the mark, Patrick chuckled and spoke. "Well, if you can poach them, go ahead and try.” “... Are you serious?" “Yes. If they say they're leaving, I won't stop them."
At Patrick's words, Viscount Freis looked at him with a puzzled expression. Patrick's demeanor was one of confidence, as if certain that his soldiers would not betray him and would follow him to the end. Money and power weren't everything, but they could still tempt quite a lot of people.
Yet he spoke as if his men would never be swayed by such things.
“Do you trust them?”
“Well, there's some trust, but more than that, it doesn't really matter to me if they leave.”
“It doesn't matter.”
“It's their life, so they should be the ones to choose.”
Patrick spoke with great composure, and Viscount Freis, looking at him, was genuinely impressed. 'His caliber is different. If only my son were even a quarter like this young man..'
To have such military strength poached was an issue significant enough to warrant a duel or even a war between fiefs. Yet Patrick spoke as if to say, take them if you can. In that moment, Viscount Freis felt overwhelmed by Patrick, a man not even half his age.
In Patrick, who was still just the young master of a noble house without a title, he could see a fragment of a hero. Then Patrick glanced up at the sky and spoke.
"The arrows have stopped. It seems they've taken care of all the archers.”
"Huh?
Oh, so they have.” Indeed, now that he was paying attention, the flying arrows were gone. It seemed the soldiers who had received Patrick's orders had swiftly traversed the rough mountains and dealt with all the archers.
During that process, no commotion or noise was heard. It simply meant they were dealt with one-sidedly. 'The skills of those who moved to deal with the archers must be on a similar level.
That means at least a hundred soldiers who can wield aura. ... This is insane.' Viscount Freis shuddered.
All he had known about the Schneider Barony was that it was a barren region that governed the most dangerous land in the eastern territory. He never knew that such monsters were lying in wait in that barren land. “Hmm, is this about right?”
Patrick, who was assessing the battle situation, spoke to Viscount Freis.
"Viscount.
You may now advance with your shields spread wide.”
"Right now?” “Yes.
Please secure our allies safely and block the zombies."
“Understood."
Viscount Freis obediently followed Patrick's instructions. “All troops, crescent formation. Surround the enemy."
"Yes, sir!"
Following the viscount's command, his army changed formation from a semicircle to a concave crescent moon shape and began to envelop the zombies. With the arrows from the sky gone, the soldiers drove the zombies back with even greater stability. There were no more soldiers falling into confusion.
The zombies were cornered by the shield-bearers' formation and concentrated in one area. And after the zombies were gathered in one place.... “You have done well, Viscount Freis."
"Count Parmas.” At last, the count's main force, which had been following from behind, arrived. What the count saw upon arrival were the House Haspir and House Bison, which had suffered damage close to annihilation. And amidst that, the army of Viscount Freis, maintaining a perfectly sharp formation while cornering the zombies. “Excellent. Just as expected of the Viscount.” “No, my lord Count. This credit is not.."
"Hahaha.
There is no need for modesty.” The soldiers of the Schneider Fief, who had acted on Patrick's orders, had already rescued their allies and returned to their formation. Because of this, Count Parmas did not get to properly see the great deeds performed by the soldiers of the Schneider Barony.
For a moment, Viscount Freis looked at Patrick with uneasy eyes. Though unintentional, it had become a situation where he had stolen another's achievement. However, Patrick spoke with an unfazed expression.
"Thank you for indulging my whim of wanting to observe your tactics from a close distance, Viscount.”
“Young Lord…. Patrick?”
“Thanks to you, I have learned a great deal. I've realized there is no falsehood in the renowned name of Viscount Freis, the veteran commander of the East with abundant practical experience.”
Ignoring the dumbfounded Viscount Freis, Count Parmas, who was next to him, spoke.
"Hahaha. The young man's passion for learning is remarkable. Yes, that's how one should be in their youth."
“Thank you. Then I will now step back.”
And Patrick took a step back, giving Viscount Freis a subtle glance. 'Just go along with it.’ 'If that's what you wish.’
Though it felt uncomfortable, as if he were stealing credit, Viscount Freis realized this was what Patrick wanted and decided to cooperate. Then, Count Parmas spoke.
“Zombies. It seems the black mage had prepared a trap after all.”
“Yes. He gathered a large number of corpses, including those of the bandits and the previous subjugation force, and raised them as zombies.”
"We could have been in big trouble. But thanks to the Viscount, things have become easier. Isn't that right, Condor."
“Yes, that is correct, my lord Count.”
The one who answered Count Parmas was a middle-aged mage waiting behind him on his right. Among the Eastern nobles, the only family that employed a mage was the House of Count Parmas. To employ a single mage required almost as much money as operating an entire knight order.
This was because one had to not only pay a high salary but also sponsor their research and training. The only noble in the eastern territory who could afford that was Count Parmas. Mages were an enormous drain on finances, but at times like this, they more than earned their keep.
"I will blow them away in one shot.” Then the mage raised his staff and began to cast a spell. A magic circle appeared at his feet, and from his lips flowed unintelligible runic chants in a mystical voice.
'Hoh.... so that's magic. Should I watch before I go?' Patrick, who was about to leave on an errand, decided to at least watch the mage's spell before he left.
Having been born into this world, he knew of the existence of magic. He had even seen a few scrolls and magical tools. But this was the first time he had ever seen magic being used by a real mage.
'I wonder what it will be like?' Patrick watched the mage chanting the spell with a pounding heart.
But………
“It's taking a while, isn't it?” “Shh, young master.”
"Ah, why?"
"You must not disturb the mage's concentration. If the magic backfires, there could be an accident." “Is that so?"
“You didn't know?"
“Of course I wouldn't know. It's the first time I've seen a mage.”
“Ugh...."
Sanson let out a sigh. Right, what could I expect from you. With an expression that said just that, Sanson looked on as Patrick continued to watch the mage.
'It's like he's manipulating energy from the outside and weaving it together. Wow.. so that's possible. But isn't that incredibly dangerous?’
Patrick, whose sense of energy was extraordinary, was watching the flow of the magic. The complex flow of energy swirling around the mage.
"Hmm...."
He was arranging and controlling the flow of energy from the outside into a specific form, condensing energy, no, mana, in a certain area. Then, the properties of the condensed mana changed, and finally……
Fwooooosh!
"Oooooh!"
"The mage is about to unleash a big one."
“Everyone, be careful!" Above the mage's head, a large fireball the size of a boulder appeared. And the mage thrust his staff forward and shouted. "Fire Bomber!" At that, the large, boulder-like flame shot forward and exploded upon the clustered zombies. KABOOOOOOOM! A massive explosion occurred, so powerful that the ground shook slightly. And the zombies caught in the explosion were literally burned to black ash, leaving not even bones behind. Because the zombies had been clustered in one place by the crescent formation of Viscount Freis's army, the effect was amplified. "As expected of the mage.”
“Hahaha.
How do you like that, you zombie bastards!" About ninety percent of the swarming zombies were wiped out by a single spell. At this sight, the morale of their allies soared, and Count Parmas spoke.
“Finish off the remaining zombies!"
"Yes, sir!"
And following his command, the knight order of the count's house led the soldiers and advanced to subjugate the remaining zombies.
And………
"Hmmm.... hmm... hmmm....."
Patrick, who had been watching everything from the back, crossed his arms and seemed to be lost in deep thought.
“Young master.
What is it?"
"Hold on. Let me think."
You're thinking? You?
You know how to do that? Sanson looked at Patrick with a skeptical expression, but Patrick was lost in serious contemplation for the first time in a long while. “Magic, so this is magic...."
At first, it didn't seem like much. Arranging energy in a perilous manner to do strange things took a long time. It seemed to take about a minute, and in that time, Patrick could have cut off his opponent's head, buried him, and then carved 'A fool who died for being too slow' on his tombstone.
But…….
'The destructive power was quite something.' The destructive power of a single spell, created with such effort, was considerable. In the martial world, there were people like shamans and sorcerers, but ninety-nine percent of them were frauds, and even the real ones could only do things like creating corpse puppets or deceiving people with strange illusions.
Creating a fireball and blasting things away so spectacularly was something he had never seen or heard of. 'I want one. Is there any way to recruit one?'
He had thought about it before, but it seemed it would be really nice to have a mage.
However....
“Well, that's for later. For now, I should finish what I have to do.”
“Young master?
What do you mean?" Patrick looked at Sanson and spoke.
“Sanson, take the men and go to my father.”
“And you, young master." "I have a quick errand to run.”
“Huh? Here?”
And before Sanson could stop him, Patrick ran off somewhere.
“Y…. Young master.
Hey, you punk!" It went without saying, but when Patrick decided to run, no one could catch him.
"Hah... hah... hah...."
The face of the black mage running along the rough mountain path, his robes fluttering, was pale with fright. 'What are they? What in the world are those monsters?’
Even as he fled, he thought. Normally, it would have been an easy task. He had taken over the bandit group, used them to annihilate one subjugation force already, and this time too, he was perfectly breaking the enemy's vanguard.
He was steadily wiping out the enemy's vanguard, and if he had turned their newly made corpses into zombies to fight the army coming up from behind, it would have been an easy victory. He thought it was a strategy for certain victory, as the more zombies he had, the stronger they became, while the enemy forces weakened.
No, it didn't have to be a certain victory. In fact, his mission was to cause as much bloodshed here as possible, so it wouldn't be a loss even if all the zombies were killed and the bandits subjugated. All that mattered was for the battle to escalate.
But then some strange guys appeared out of nowhere, and things went wrong. Swordsmen wielding a sword in each hand appeared and showed unbelievable skill, wiping out all the zombies. They were all individuals who had reached a level where they could wield aura, so curses didn't work on them.
On top of that, they plunged into the forest and wiped out the bandits who were shooting arrows. Because of those guys, the tide of battle turned quickly. The black mage's original plan had gone completely awry.
When things went wrong, he quickly fled. Now that it had come to this, he had to retreat. Even if he retreated now, it wasn't a complete failure.
“I just need to retrieve the item and leave now. Then the cult won't abandon me."
'Oh? Really?' “Of course.
As long as I retrieve the item.... huh?" The black mage, who was in mid-sentence, was startled. When he came to his senses, he heard an unfamiliar voice right behind him.
He turned his head and saw…