Beep!
After wandering the skies for a while, pipi returns and shares the information she just discovered.
She says that a group of black-masked individuals have abandoned Kazein and fled to the Akalek Mountains.
The Akalek Mountains, the most towering, expansive, and majestic range on the continent.
Yet, they are also treacherous and inhospitable, making survival difficult for humans.
Of course, it’s not entirely impossible to survive there.
The inaccessibility of the region means diverse flora thrive, and the climate can be temperate depending on the altitude.
However, the biggest problem lies with the mountain guardians.
Perhaps it’s a divine arrangement to protect the sacredness of nature—mysterious beings that only show hostility toward intruders.
Their individual combat prowess is so formidable that even the self-proclaimed rulers of the Northern Plains avoid traveling through the mountains.
And yet, these fools dare to flee there?
Have they gone mad?
Or are they simply ignorant of the North?
…Of course, it’s neither.
Given what they’ve done to us, they must be quite knowledgeable about the North.
They must have some trick up their sleeves to head for the Akaleks.
Well, let’s see how long they can hold out. I’ll never let them go.
My rage doesn’t fade with time; it only grows stronger, fueling an even greater fury.
I’ve already finished planning how to torture them and extract confessions.
They’ve given me too much time.
Too much information.
Now, the only step left is to capture them.
“Ahaya, the troops are ready to march.”
“Let’s go.”
Ah, there’s one more step I forgot about.
The occupation of Kazein—I was so caught up in the audacious moves of the masked ones that I almost forgot.
Frennila picks up her beloved bow, the Iron Horn Bow, from the corner of the tent.
With ease, she strings the bow without the need for levers or pulleys.
Erka watches in astonishment as Frennila, unfazed by the stares, grabs her quiver and heads out of the tent.
Now, it’s time to end this nightmare.
*
The infected, with nowhere left to retreat, are now in a desperate situation.
Their numbers, once spread across the plains, have now gathered in one place, making them a force to be reckoned with.
Of course, they’re still far outnumbered by the unified allied forces.
With such overwhelming numerical superiority, I’d like to crush them in one go, but I hold back.
There’s a new variable in this battle that wasn’t present before.
I see a few chimeras, like the ones we encountered last time, but based on experience, they won’t pose a significant threat.
The real problem lies in the statues scattered among the infected, exuding an ominous presence.
Winged monstrosities, grotesque statues that seem to be carved in the image of demons.
They not only look terrifying but also emit a sinister aura that intimidates anyone who sees them.
“All troops, prepare to fire.”
I’d prefer to avoid ranged attacks and let the infected die as children of Saka, but it’s not worth taking heavy losses to protect them.
Following Frennila’s orders, Svioha commands the centurions.
The combat efficiency of the legion, now organized under the centurion system, is overwhelming.
Despite the increased scale, there’s no delay in relaying orders.
As soon as the arrows and spells are ready, the report comes in.
“Commander, the troops are ready to fire.”
“Fire.”
At her command, a single arrow is launched into the sky.
Whoosh!
The sound of whistling arrows fills the battlefield as a rain of arrows and spells begins to blanket the skies above Kazein.
This isn’t like before, where we had to conserve resources in an endless war.
This time, we’re pouring everything we have into this battle, believing it to be the last.
Thud! Crash!
The infected at the front lines are swept away by the barrage.
So many arrows rain down that even those not aimed at vital areas like the heart or head are struck down in droves.
It seems like we can wipe out the infected and advance without issue.
We can deal with the chimeras and the strange statues later—or so I thought.
I expected the statues to have some sinister power, but I never imagined they’d actually move.
The statues open their eyes, glowing with a malevolent red light, and begin to flap their wings.
“Could they be gargoyles?”
Finally realizing something, Rii tries to explain the nature of the monsters.
But before she can, the statues rise into the air, deploying a barrier that neutralizes all incoming projectiles.
“…I guess my explanation isn’t needed.”
Gargoyles, monstrous creatures created to guard evil realms.
These monsters float in the air, shielding the infected from the barrage without a single casualty.
It seems nothing will come easy until the very end.
Fine, you want close combat?
I’ll give it to you.
Let’s end this now.
With a cold smile, Frennila draws her iron club, usually used as a secondary weapon.
“All troops, charge.”
At her command, Werhe and Erka lead the charge, guiding the way.
The warriors advance in formation.
In response, the infected begin to rush forward, and soon the two forces clash, creating a massive frontline.
Unlike before, the addition of chimeras and gargoyles prevents us from gaining an overwhelming advantage.
It’s a balanced fight.
The leaders of each tribe prioritize taking down the monsters over the infected, moving accordingly.
…
Watching the battle from afar, I’m filled with many thoughts.
The game, “The Fall of the Empire.”
Or perhaps it’s not just an ordinary game.
The balance I used to complain about might not have been so unreasonable after all.
The Empire, after the Emperor concluded his conquests, entered an era of peace.
Drunk on peace, they let their weapons rust and maintained their arrogance.
Meanwhile, the tribes struggled to survive in harsh environments, fighting desperately every day.
When your former allies turn their blades on you, and you fight for survival every day, isn’t it strange to call them weak?
Perhaps it’s not a good habit to criticize something without understanding its context.
In the distance, I see Werhe swinging her axe wildly on horseback.
Whether intentional or not, she’s targeting only the chimeras, blowing their heads off as if avenging the humiliation she suffered at their hands before.
Svioha, unlike Rii, is also skilled in combat, moving along the frontlines to tend to the wounded.
Even if the warriors are bitten by the infected, as long as Svioha can treat them, they recover quickly, so the soldiers no longer fear the infected.
Erka, being short and with short legs, doesn’t ride a horse unless someone carries her.
Or perhaps she can’t ride at all.
Still, with her superior stamina, she rushes into the fray, cutting down both infected and gargoyles with her swift swordplay.
Grandfather,
“You who have lost your child, taste the same wrath!”
Startled, a giant man on horseback breaks through the frontline and charges toward me.
The warriors guarding me try to stop him, but the giant’s sinister red spear takes them down in just a few strikes.
Oops, I guess I let my guard down too much, even though we’re in the middle of a battle.
I quickly raise my shield, but I’m not sure if I can block the giant’s spear from horseback.
I clench my entire body and shut my eyes tightly.
Ah, Frennila told me to be careful.
“Grandson, duck.”
A reliable voice comes from behind, and my body immediately reacts, flattening itself to the ground.
Thud!
The shield charge—what I attempted in the cave against the chimera—was a beginner’s move compared to this powerful and precise attack.
The impact is so strong that the giant loses his balance and falls from his horse.
Thud, but as expected of an infected, he gets up without showing any pain, even though his leg is broken.
Is he someone Grandfather knows?
He could have finished the giant off before he got up, but Grandfather just silently stares at his face.
“Samarat, I thought you were dead, but you’re still alive.”
Though in the body of an infected.
The giant, now back on his feet, swings his massive spear and charges at Grandfather.
“I had so much to say to you, but now that I see your face, I have nothing to say.”
Once a cherished childhood friend, then a sworn enemy after the civil war, and now just another victim manipulated by the dark mages—it’s a sad thought.
At least I still have my grandson and the children of the shield, but he has nothing left.
“You who have lost your child, taste the same wrath!”
“I’m sorry, but that’s impossible. I’m not incompetent enough to fail twice.”
‘Why is the mood like this? Honey, daughter, don’t worry. I’ll protect you.’
The memory of that day’s failure, the promise I couldn’t keep, haunts me.
My grandson, eager to see the end of this, joined the army, and while I’m proud, I can’t shake my unease.
I’ve been watching from behind, just in case, and it seems like the right choice.
“Grandson, watch closely. A shield, you see, shines brightest not when attacking, but when protecting someone.”
Screech!
Samarat charges, and the heavy shield of Argin moves to meet him.
Several exchanges later, it seems Samarat has the upper hand.
As if facing the enemy of a lifetime, he fights with all his might, determined to kill at any cost.
But even such ferocity can’t break through Argin’s thick shield wall.
Argin simply blocks and pushes back Samarat’s attacks, biding his time.
Then, in an instant, he channels all his strength and shoves Samarat away.
Already weakened from the fall, Samarat loses his balance and collapses.
Argin quickly draws a dagger coated with healing potion from his belt.
“…Farewell. I pray you reunite with your beloved son in peace.”
Thud.
The dagger pierces Samarat’s thigh, and his complexion begins to return.
His wide eyes fix on Argin.
“…Samaha, Samaha.”
Calling out his son’s name, he finally finds peace.
Argin silently watches his final moments, then closes his eyes and offers a prayer to Tengri.
In the distance, I see Frennila waving Saka’s banner as she charges.
It seems that while Samarat was here, she finished off the rest of the infected and ended the battle.
“The infected have been eradicated. The nightmare is over.”
Her calm declaration of victory spreads across the battlefield, filling everyone with joy.
/Under the eternal power of the sky!/
/For Saka!/
Finally, the infected crisis has come to an end.
I exchange a glance with Grandfather.
“For Saka!”
I join the warriors in their victory chant, sharing in their joy.
Saka’s banner is planted in the center of Kazein.
Seeing this scene reminds me of when the capital fell and Saka’s banner was raised in a previous playthrough.
Back then, it was filled with despair, but now it’s the complete opposite.
Of course, we still don’t know who the mastermind is, and we haven’t captured the dark mages, so there’s still a long way to go.
But for today, I want to purely enjoy this moment of triumph.
It’s the first time since coming to this world that I’ve felt such overwhelming emotion and accomplishment.