"Everyone up! Time for a fun magic experiment!"
The moment Qual heard the news, he called a halt to the Demons working the fields.
One by one, the Demons raised their heads from the paddies, and a chill, murderous atmosphere began to spread.
Inside a lavishly furnished military tent —
"That crafty bastard! Has he betrayed me?"
The Marquis stared at the empty seat and the absent army, and irritably took a hard drag on his cigar.
He'd originally agreed with another Marquis to pool together nearly ten thousand troops and steamroll Gaderia.
He'd heard Gaderia had grown prosperous these past few years, but its army, at most, should number only about a thousand.
His own well-equipped force of over four thousand would be more than enough.
"Hmph. I'll just take the whole meal for myself, then."
Ever since the Kingdom of Ert, which had recently supplied him with slaves, was destroyed, the Marquis had lost his channel for buying them.
Rumor had it that Gaderia's Demons were behind the destruction of the Kingdom of Ert, but the high-and-mighty Marquis knew better — Gaderia was nothing but a fringe territory with some military muscle, one that had only risen to prominence by scrounging up a handful of Demons from who knew where.
Now, according to firsthand information, the Demon said to secretly rule Gaderia — the legendary Aura the Guillotine of the Seven Sages of Destruction — had fled to the Northern region and was currently being hunted down by the knight order of the Graf Granat's Domain. If she could be run down by some Earl's knight order, this so-called Great Demon probably wasn't much to speak of.
A Demon who slaughters people wholesale?
Just a broken remnant of a defeated army, now that the Demon King is gone!
Nothing to fear at all!
"I really can't understand what the Empire's armies were doing all this time — they couldn't even take down a mid-sized territory like this."
The Marquis was already picturing a bright future.
Once he conquered Gaderia, he'd enslave its people as chattel — whenever he wanted fresh slaves, he'd simply grab them from Gaderia. It was perfect.
Ever since one of the Empire's Grand Dukes had vanished, and the former king had passed away not long after, a new Emperor had ascended the throne.
Marquises like himself, who'd inherited their titles through the ranks, had gradually come to wield unchecked, sky-blotting power over portions of the Empire.
"My lord, everything is ready. Shall we declare war on Gaderia first, or launch a surprise attack directly? The fifteen hundred vanguard troops for the wall assault, a thousand knights, five hundred mages, and the remaining thousand-plus mercenaries — your loyal Knight Commander has already arranged everything. Just give the order!"
The white-haired old man, looking every bit the steward, bowed with a solemn face, seeming utterly devoted.
"Hm. Given the distance and our numbers, Gaderia's scouts and city guards probably aren't fools — they've likely already spotted us. Let the men rest and prepare a while longer, then attack directly, before they can fully react."
"A wise decision, my lord."
"You're dismissed."
The Marquis glanced toward a corner of the tent, where cages held a huddle of "slaves," barely clothed enough to cover themselves.
After hesitating several times, he finally reached for the armor and sword laid out on the table.
Just as the Marquis was about to set the golden iron helmet on his head, disaster struck without warning.
A chaotic clamor of shouting rose up outside the tent.
The old steward, who had just stepped out, came rushing back in.
"What is it?"
"My lord! We have to march out early! Gaderia — Gaderia is already attacking us!"
"...What?"
The Marquis threw on his armor in a matter of moments and hurried out of the tent to look.
Out on the plain, led by Qual, nearly a thousand Demons from Gaderia's Demon Special Zone were advancing across the open ground.
Behind them rode several hundred elite mounted knights — the knight order of the Gaderia Lord's Manor and its border defense forces.
Yuna rode atop a white horse, gripping a vivid crimson staff, her loose mage's robes standing out strikingly amid the forest of iron armor.
"Take a good look — everyone starting from that camp over there is the enemy!"
The Sage of Corruption, Qual, split his sharp-toothed mouth into a grin and pointed toward the camp barely visible a kilometer off, pitched beside the woodland.
The oldest among them, and the one with the greatest Mana, he was now the sole leader all of Gaderia's Demons obeyed.
Perhaps it was because Gaderia had known peace for too long.
But at the sight of the enemy, the Demon soldiers all radiated an extraordinary killing intent.
"Now, let's begin the Killing Magic experiment. Anyone who knows a long-range Killing Magic, step forward — just aim it over there and let loose."
More than half of the roughly one thousand Demons began gathering their Mana, forming white magic circles.
They spread out at intervals with remarkable synchrony, and one compressed bolt of Killing Magic after another slowly took shape.
The sight was nothing short of spectacular.
Übel watched the Demons unleashing their Killing Magic, then glanced at Qual, filled with quiet amazement. Under the tutelage of Lady Aura and Qual, these Demon soldiers — once scattered wanderers from all over — had now become weapons of mass slaughter that might well rival a Second-Class Mage.
"BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!"
Amid the flickering light, it looked as though a string of white glowing rays had formed.
Bolt after bolt of long-range Killing Magic streaked down like meteors onto the enemy camp, which until then had lain in peaceful stillness.
"Hm? Where's this Mana coming from?"
One Mage turned to look in that direction. A blinding flash of white light shot past, and he stared in disbelief as more than half his torso was punched clean through. Still gripping his staff pathetically, he crumpled to the ground and died.
Tragedy after tragedy played out across the camp — one man had a leg blown clean off and screamed in agony.
Most of the tents were pierced straight through by magic, taking the soldiers inside — who never even understood what was happening — down with them.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
As the white light faded, people began shouting and scrambling about, the clatter of armor ringing out everywhere.
"What... what is even happening?"
Because the Marquis's tent was positioned at the very back, the wide-area, long-range Killing Magic hadn't managed to reach it, and he'd been fortunate enough to escape unscathed.
At that moment, the Knight Commander the steward had called so loyal came running back from the front lines.
He clutched at a broken piece of armor on his shoulder, blood trickling down his arm, and dropped straight to his knees before the Marquis.
"My lord! That attack just now cost us nearly several hundred men! Gaderia's army — and its Demons — are already upon us!"
"Quick! Muster every soldier you can still muster! Meet them head-on! Notify every Mage still alive — watch for a second wave!"
A vein bulged at the Marquis's temple as he strode toward the front lines, flanked by the old steward and the Knight Commander.
He wanted to see for himself exactly what kind of fool would dare do such a thing.
At that very moment, a second wave of long-range Killing Magic came raining down. But this time the Marquis's army was prepared, and casualties dropped sharply.
Out on the open field, a horde of sharp-horned "monsters," clad in armor and bearing keen blades, advanced steadily.
The Marquis had already regrouped his forces and stood watching the approaching enemy alongside his Knight Commander.
At the Marquis's single command, every soldier present drew the bows and arrows they'd readied beforehand, pulling taut and waiting silently for the enemy's approach.
"Now! Time to return the favor! Loose!"
Rank after rank of soldiers fired in alternation, and a hail of arrows blanketed the army led by Qual.
Watching the shadow darken the sky, Qual only spread his wide mouth into a grin and threw his arms open, as if basking in sunlight — or laughing without a sound.
A massive Defensive Magic barrier unfurled, enveloping the entire army, the Demon soldiers behind him included.
The falling arrows snapped with a crack against it.
Wearing that devilish expression, Qual swept a broad hand through the air, and dozens — perhaps even a hundred — bolts of Killing Magic unfurled.
His ancient, terrifying voice rang out across the battlefield:
"Advance! Fight! Kill!"
____
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