Chapter 448 – Competitive War
As already announced, the prize given to the victorious faction of the competitive war is ownership of the massive mine within the disputed territory, a mine that the Southern Alliance had been developing.
The value that could be generated from it, until it was depleted, was nothing short of astronomical.
Even if they simply activated the mine modestly and left it alone, wasting or not, they could live like kings of a nation for generations.
However, none of the factions involved in the competitive war desired only the massive mine. The victory prize was something to be taken for granted.
They had no intention of missing out on the collateral gains, such as the disputed territory's land, the ransom of hostages, or the immense spoils of war.
Those who have nothing, desire to have.
And those who already have, desire to have even more.
For they possess vessels that cannot be filled with half-baked benefits, and hands that can grasp far more.
Ownerless land is soil that can be lawfully seized and plundered according to the needs of the world...
On earth stained with blood and piled with corpses, the ambitions of those aiming for sudden fortune and playing the role of rulers were, indeed, all too human.
***
Eastern region.
Originally, the representative of the competitive war should have been entrusted to the Grand Lord, Marquis Plavis, yet that role was currently given to Grand Lord, Count Cheolp. The result of Count Cheolp's strong insistence.
Centered around him, three other Grand Lords accompanied him as supreme commanders.
Gathered in an old-fashioned fortress, they held a serious meeting. The repeated debates finally came to an end today.
"...Since all are in agreement, the discussion of strategy against the Western offensive and tactics for the fortress assault ends here. Then lastly..."
Grand Lord, Toren, organized the documents, then cast his gaze diagonally.
"What decision has been made for the North?"
Naturally, everyone's eyes turned to Count Cheolp, seated at the head.
The dreadful bruise that remained as a scar on the back of his neck had been neatly healed thanks to long-term treatment with potions.
On the other hand, the incident that occurred in Medilon's conference hall had already spread beyond recovery.
His reputation was in tatters.
A Grand Lord had been overpowered by a woman no one had ever seen before, showing such disgrace.
Moreover, it was not caused by Count Cheolp's provocation, but rather... by Liam Arein feigning agitation, deliberately inciting physical conflict.
It was clear that by humiliating the Eastern Grand Lord, the North intended to elevate their prestige.
In short, Cheolp had become a kind of sacrificial offering.
"...The North, huh."
Cheolp, who had been quietly smoking, rolled his eyes.
"Of course, they must die."
"Hmm, it is not that we cannot understand your feelings. But allocating forces elsewhere than against the West... we cannot agree to that, can we?"
"We are aware that, like that woman in the conference hall, the Shinseong may have unexpected strong individuals. Still, in the end, the North is a faction without even a single fortress in the disputed territory. Even if the North is annihilated, we gain no real benefit."
"Besides, was it not said that the West chose the Mercenary King as their representative? Show weakness, and he will strike. That one is like a snake with poison."
Each Grand Lord voiced reasonable objections, restraining the choice.
Hiss.
Cheolp crushed his cigarette into the ashtray. The smoke that rose refreshed the atmosphere.
"I understand well what concerns you. So the crux is... that there are no troops to spare for the North, is it not? Then I shall handle it personally. If Liam Arein dies, the North is automatically eliminated."
"Personally, you say?"
"Yes."
Cheolp jerked his chin.
From the darkness in the chamber, beyond the reach of the magic stone lamps, a man with grim eyes stepped forth.
"That man is... No, rather, since when has he...?"
"His name is Mordoc. Formerly an executive of 'Grimnax'. It was no small effort to bring him here."
Grimnax.
Depending on the price, they would merrily butcher even infants, making no distinction of good or evil in their contracts───the most elite assassin group that thrived on the political intrigues of the continent.
Countless nobles and royals had perished by their secret and merciless blades, and even state-level forces had been assassinated since its founding.
The large and small disputes and civil wars they had caused were beyond counting.
Grand Lord, Kardric, was horrified.
"T, to think you would hire someone from Grimnax, an executive no less, even if retired... Cheolp, you are serious...!"
"Serious, you say? But of course─!"
Bang!
Cheolp slammed the table.
Shattered teacups scattered into pieces. From the wounds cut sharply, blood dripped.
"To dare commit such an atrocity against me...! It is utterly humiliating! Liam Arein, that worthless brat, I will surely capture and kill him. As well as that wench who laid hands on my body!"
The fury he had barely suppressed exploded, blood vessels filling his eyes.
"Mordoc...! Once the competitive war begins, find Liam Arein, and bring me his severed head with all twenty fingers and toes torn off, and his eyes gouged out. Do the same to that woman guard! Kill anyone who stands in the way! I shall pay a bonus per head."
"Heh, quite a commission to stir my appetite after a long time. But... not enough."
"What?"
Cheolp frowned, but Mordoc continued without care.
"The Shinseong of the Eastern Continent might guard Liam Arein's side. And there is the unnamed swordsman said to have slain the Bone-Relic Dragon. Even if not targets, they cannot be ignored."
"...Though there is no detailed information about that swordsman, at least it is certain the Shinseong will not participate in the competitive war. If even that were feared, he would not have come this far in the first place. State your price."
"Of course, money."
Mordoc narrowed his eyes.
"I demand triple the original fee. Ah, and if needed, I can also kill the Shinseong of the East or that nameless swordsman. As long as the additional payment is proper."
Though the Shinseong of the East was evaluated at the upper sixth tier, Mordoc was unfazed. The swordsman who felled the Bone-Relic Dragon was the same.
Strength did not mean immunity from death.
No matter how high a human could fly or crawl, if their heart was pierced or their head severed, they died.
"Your confidence is impressive."
Cheolp twisted his lips.
"Yes, indeed, it was surely the Shinseong who ordered Liam Arein. Eliminating him would, in a way, be natural. Fine, the advance will be paid tomorrow."
Satisfied by Cheolp's decision, Mordoc whispered in a chilling voice.
"The commission will be fulfilled, Count Cheolp."
With those words, Mordoc vanished.
Even though it was a sealed space, and they had watched with their own eyes, his whereabouts could not be found.
Silence flowed.
Cheolp exhaled deeply, drawing all attention back to himself.
"With this, the North is as good as finished. None shall object, yes?"
"Haha... Who could object? To spend such a fortune from your own purse. There is nothing to quibble about, is there?"
"Indeed, indeed. You are the representative of this war, we merely follow."
"So it has come to this, the competitive war's three-way structure is practically broken. We can now focus leisurely on the West as before."
Of course, the tactics of mercenaries deployed by the Mercenary King in the West were no easy matter to counter, yet they had already secured countermeasures.
At great cost, no less.
Soon after, a knight entered and reported.
"From the Magic Tower of the Volcanic Island, one of Andranov's elders, Melconi Blaud, has arrived."
From the tower ranked sixth, a state-level force had been dispatched.
Watching all of this from outside, the Northern great warrior licked his lips.
"The stench of blood is thick."
***
Western region.
The Sovereign sat upon his throne, reading a secret letter sent from the 'South'.
He read it twice over, chewing on its contents.
Grasping the intentions revealed by the South, he gave a small snort.
Crunch.
His rough grip crumpled the missive.
"So the Southern Alliance engaged in this trivial competitive war, and as I thought... they hid their insolent schemes."
"Well, that is the South."
The Mercenary King, leaning against a pillar, shrugged.
"So what will you do? Whether we accept their proposal or not, it seems no disadvantage to us."
"We permit it, but we do not involve ourselves. It may not technically break the unspoken rule of ownerless land, yet such conduct is not to my taste. We focus solely on our objective."
The Sovereign tilted his chin.
"So enjoy yourself."
The Mercenary King bowed with courtesy.
"With pleasure."
***
Southern region.
The Alliance, as the host of the competitive war, did not participate in the battle. They did not need to scramble for supplies or strain themselves to gather soldiers.
Perhaps for that reason, the lords gathered at the banquet were all in comfortable attire. The atmosphere was cheerful.
Among them, Gideon spoke.
"Regrettably, the Sovereign of the West has no intention of joining our scheme. He also said he would not interfere."
"So, they want us to handle things ourselves while they merely scoop the leftovers? The arrogance of the so-called Central Continent's Four Pillars is sky-high."
"Is it not about time the title's owner changed? Will he suddenly disappear like the Heavenly Sword, Adrian Chambers, or be usurped like the rest? Hoho, I am curious how the Sovereign will end."
"Still, he is not a man to retract his word. If he said he would not interfere, it must be true. The most troublesome obstacle is not stepping in, so that is enough."
Then, one of the lords asked.
"By the way, Gideon, have you decided whom to support among Diamoon Magic Tower's successors?"
The Southern Alliance was in a relationship of sponsorship, trade, and cooperation with Diamoon Magic Tower.
Yet, unexpectedly, the tower master and his first disciple had been mercilessly killed by the transcendent of the Black Hour.
The reason why the secretly hidden massive composite mine was exposed.
In any case, the seat of tower master had to be taken by either the second disciple or the tower master's son.
Whose back should they push to maximize the South's gain?
The conclusion was simple.
"The West said they would support the second disciple. So we must follow the flow, must we not? To clash directly with the Sovereign now would bring too many losses."
"That is indeed sound reasoning. Yet, the tower master's son trusted us... more precisely, you, Gideon, absolutely."
Gideon smiled kindly.
"If circumstances were favorable, I would dearly wish to raise him, yet at present, we ourselves are pressed. This is not the time to exercise patience or invest. I too find it regrettable."
"Ha, ha, indeed. Investments that necessarily accompany loss are best avoided."
"Then we shall coax the tower master's son well, and at the right time, hand him over to the second disciple. As always, Gideon, we rely on you."
"But of course."
Gideon raised his glass.
All the gathered members of the Alliance simultaneously lifted their cups.
"The victor of the competitive war is uncertain, but it will surely be either West or East. The North will at best gain a little land from the East's disputed territory... but."
Gideon declared.
"In the end, the true winner is the South."
Behind the war, shadows abounded.
***
Northern region.
Around the map of the disputed territory, crafted personally by Keirel based on collected intelligence, Adrian, Keirel, Liam, and Isabella sat together.
Unia and Cain, who had safely completed their reconnaissance mission, were also present.
Adrian spoke.
"As you all know, thanks to the lord, the North has also taken the shape of a faction. With the information we've gathered so far and our full strength, a full-scale war against other factions is not impossible."
Keirel continued the address.
"However, since we are inexperienced in warfare itself, we cannot help but be inferior in command, strategy, and tactics. As time passes, the gap will only widen. In such a situation, to face both East and West at once is nothing short of suicide."
She pointed to the eastern side of the disputed territory.
"Therefore, when the time comes, we'll end the East quickly."
Condition for elimination in the competitive war───if the representative chosen is captured or killed, that faction is excluded from the war, this was the key to every plan.
Isabella brushed her dark green hair.
"The Eastern representative is said to be Count Cheolp, the Grand Lord who came to the conference hall? I'm not eager to wring that greasy neck twice."
"Still, capture him if possible. There's much to gain by keeping him as a hostage."
Adrian replied thus, then shifted his gaze.
"As already discussed, the beginning will be Unia's, and the end will be Cain's. You have confidence, don't you?"
"Of course."
"Well, naturally."
Unia seized Cain's arm and then, clap! their palms struck together.
"Finally, our debut battle!"
The opportunity had come at last to reveal the new generation's strength raised by the Society. Once the competitive war was over, the names of the twin siblings would be known across the continent.
The mood was lifted.
Among them, not one had fought in a large-scale war, so the tension stirred as well.
Adrian asked Liam, who was stiff.
"Liam Arein, have you nothing to say?"
"Y, yes?"
"You are not merely a petty lord now, but the ruler of the North. That, chosen directly by the lord himself. To simply remain silent does not suit your position."
"...!"
Indeed, it was true.
Just because in this war he could play no greater role than bait, to give not even encouragement was a matter of will.
To sit still because of lack of ability meant no growth.
Realizing this anew, Liam stood and looked at them all.
"...Once, Sir Asher took me to meet the nearby lords. And to those who clamored about unspoken rules, he asked them this."
"..."
"The strong take everything. Was that not the only rule of this land? And he was right. That is precisely the essence of ownerless land. So then..."
He caught his breath, then finished the sentence.
"L, let's take everything for ourselves."
The words were stammered and unpolished.
But that alone was enough.
***
Every faction was prepared.
And the time had come.
"From this moment, we declare the beginning of the competitive war, hosted by the Southern Alliance."
The arbiters from the neutral zone moved to their respective stations. Soon, from the east, west, and north of the disputed territory, the signal tones resounded, announcing the outbreak of war.
The competitive war, with three factions participating.
The first to advance was the West's representative, the Mercenary King.
***
Upon the dark, weed-grown soil beneath the clear sky, tens of thousands of mercenaries aligned themselves.
A legion composed of various mercenary companies.
At its head, the man known as the Mercenary King, closest aide to the Sovereign.
───Thud───Thud───Thud───!
Three medium-sized airships soared into the sky, then swooped low to the ground, safely unloading siege weapons.
Seven smaller airships, carrying magi, activated strategic magic items to form barriers.
"They said wartime pay would be distributed according to performance in the competitive war... but wouldn't it be more pleasant if immediate profit were at hand?"
Shrrk.
The Mercenary King drew his sword.
"Therefore, to the one who climbs the wall first, I shall grant a special reward!"
Of course, if he dies, the reward passes to the next in line.
"Uwaaaaaaaaahhh!"
The smirking mercenaries roared as they charged toward the Eastern fortress.
Boom! Boom!
Kwaaaaang! Kwadadadadak!
Trebuchets inscribed with magic circles hurled
The mercenary magi repeated calculations, operating the siege engines in succession.
Yet, while the barrier around the fortress could block magic fired from outside, it could not stop physical objects such as arrows.
Humans were the same.
Siege towers pressed against the walls. Battering rams imbued with siege magic aimed at the gates. Mercenaries sheltered behind wagons with massive metal shields approached.
"Knock down the ladders! Now!"
"Forget that, destroy the rams first!"
Eastern trained troops rained magic and arrows down like a storm from atop the walls. They resembled the regular armies typical of many nations.
With precise shots, unlucky heads exposed beyond cover were pierced, or mercenaries froze or exploded from spells.
But none flinched.
Mercenaries scaling the towers stepped onto the wall, trampling blood and corpses. Though hindered by burning oil and fire magic, they still broke through.
"Bwahahaha! You bastards!"
"I'm first! The bonus is mi───guhk!"
The Western army was composed mostly of mercenaries, bound in semi-permanent contracts. They earned extra rewards according to their achievements.
No pain, no gain.
That was war mercenary life, earning fortunes with blood and flesh.
"Keep them from climbing!"
"Piss off, you Sovereign's dogs!"
"Fuck off, you bastards!"
"Those are Eastern knights! Kill them! Killing means coin!"
The siege was fierce.
Especially since strategic magic items had been deployed for defense, the battle was thunderous. Numbers and technology wielded enormous power.
But in the end, war is led by the few.
The maxim that a strong individual cannot overcome a developed group still held true, yet if such a strong one belonged within that group, he could at any moment overturn the battle with a decisive stroke.
"Hm."
The Mercenary King leaped with force, climbing the tall wall using friction between toes and stone.
"...! It's the Mercenary King!"
"The representative is on the frontlines...! Catch him, and the West is finished!"
Knights clad in enchanted armor charged with longswords. Though blades imbued with spirit energy rushed him, the Mercenary King laughed easily, shifted weight slightly forward, closing distance.
Agile movement, rough swordsmanship.
Purely forged in real battle, dynamic killing techniques shredded knights' throats and faces, and even spells flying in from afar were cut apart with ease.
"W, wait."
"Haha, there is no wait in war."
Crack!
With his lone body, he slaughtered nine knights and killed five magi, clearing the vicinity.
A blade soaked in blood.
The sensation transmitted through its tip.
Eyes filled with tension pouring in from every direction.
As he surrendered to the pleasant thrill, an almost youthful vitality surged within him, dull senses flashing sharp once more.
Thud!
He smashed part of the wall, severing with a single stroke the tightly stretched metal chains hidden within.
The alloy gate, protecting the outermost part of the fortress gate, fell under its own weight.
"The Mercenary King has removed the outer gate!"
"Now!"
"Breach!!"
The magical battering ram, having pierced Eastern resistance, struck the fortress gate.
Fifth-tier siege magic was unleashed.
From the ram's embedded spell, thorns of earth extended, pierced the gate, then detonated.
The mercenaries swarmed in.
"Guhk, kuhh..."
"Gyaaaaagh?!"
Eastern soldiers raised a shield wall around the shattered gate, but could not hold. Their morale was broken, and in their midst, the plainly dressed Mercenary King was a dagger itself.
Soon, the fortress's strategic magic item was destroyed. With its barrier gone, the fortress began to be ravaged by siege engines.
Thus, one of the Eastern fortresses closest to the Western-occupied disputed zone fell brazenly.
The young commander of the fortress, having lost his will, knelt trembling.
"M, Mercenary King. Please, spare me...!"
"Hmm? Quite young. You seem far too inexperienced to guard a fortress... Were you simply set up as a scarecrow? Tell me, how many wars in the disputed territory have you fought?"
"O, only three. This is my first loss."
"Ah, that explains it. Haha, even if you've become a defeated soldier, no need to tremble so. This is a war by agreement. And unlike the Eastern Grand Lords, we don't torture or kill surrendered men for amusement. It's not profitable. Though you may suffer some humiliation."
The Mercenary King patted the commander's shoulder, then passed by.
Following mercenaries spat at or kicked the terrified commander, mocking him at will.
"Up we go."
The Mercenary King climbed to the fortress's summit.
A third of it was damaged by siege fire, soot covering the stones.
Sitting at the edge, he cleaned his blood-and-oil-stained sword, gazing at the sunset sinking beneath the horizon.
Still, no news of the North.
Indeed, it seemed they would move only after East and West clashed and both sides' forces had been somewhat worn down.
That was the orthodox method, after all.
"Whatever happens, it's certain they won't bring an ordinary strategy. Hm, what claws has the North been hiding... If I press the East harder, perhaps something will come out. Truly, I look forward to it."
The Mercenary King raised his sword.
The sunlight was blotted out beyond the dark blade that reflected no light.
And not long after, the mercenary force led by the Western Mercenary King and the army commanded by the Eastern Grand Lord collided head-on.
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