by Road Warrior
“I’m sorry, but I can’t get it up.”
“Oh… that’s quite awful.”
“I want to go to the Storm Battlefront.”
“Storm Battlefront… well, it might be better for a man with a condition such as yours to end up in a place full of dwarves.”
The matter got wrapped up at a rapid pace. Sungchul got dispatched to the Storm Battlefront as a mercenary mage. The location that he was dispatched to was a small fortress known as the Black Hills, but that didn't matter because he caused trouble from the very first day he arrived.
“White Shadow! I hereby transfer you to the suicide unit for violence toward a superior officer, insubordination, and destruction of property!”
After the order was passed down, Sungchul had a cloth with the number 34 written on it forcibly attached to his ragged coat.
“What’s this?”
At Sungchul’s question, the soldier who was sewing it onto him answered curtly, “What do you mean what’s this? It’s your prisoner number.”
Sungchul was swiftly sent to the Suicide Unit at the forefront. It was even decided that he was to be transported by a gryphon.
The rider of the gryphon laughed loudly as he dropped Sungchul off. “This will be your burial grounds. Recruit, it is suitable for idiots like you that fuck up on day 1!”
“…”
“I might be back in about two weeks. Let’s see if you’re still alive by then!” said the rider as the gryphon blew up a storm as it ascended into the sky and headed north. Sungchul looked around his surroundings. There were several tents that appeared to belong to the suicide unit visible in the sunken portion of a high elevation basin. Sungchul compared the number of tents with the number of wood-burning stoves to estimate their headcount.
Approximately 300 people?
However, the number was revealed to be closer to a hundred members. They told him that they had suffered heavy casualties that cost them half of their members in a major battle recently.
The vice-captain of the suicide unit, Genghis Aaron, was a middle-aged man that looked as ferocious and agile as a panther. He appeared as though he could hold his own in a fight, and it reflected his ability. He was a former Sword Master of the Ancient Kingdom in the ranks of Superhuman who had over 300 points each in Strength, Dexterity, and Endurance. However, his nickname within the suicide unit was Rockhead. He was a pure idiot who didn't even know simple addition and subtraction.
“Welcome, number 34. To the Suicide unit that is.”
“…”
Genghis quickly scanned through the documents that Sungchul brought with his eyes before speaking in what sounded like a mutter.
“Now let’s see here… Assault of a superior officer and insubordination… with a bit of property damage for fun? Let me just have you know one thing.” Rockhead smirked and pulled out his blade part-way.
SRRRNG.
The unusual blade wrapped in a violet light revealed itself.
“Insubordination before me means beheading.”
“…”
When he was done reporting in, a stumpy dwarf approached Sungchul. “Are you done reporting in, number 34?”
On the chest plate of the dwarf who was wearing full plate armor despite not being in the middle of battle was attached a cloth with the number 0 written.
“Who might you be?”
“I am the oldest veteran of the suicide unit, ‘Hell Fist’ Arkaard.” Arkaard showed Sungchul the fist that he was so proud of. The steel gauntlet wrapped around his fingers sparkled with the engraved words ‘Hell Fist’. “However, just call me number 0. That’s the Suicide unit tradition!”
“…”
“Anyways… there are no officers here, commissioned or not. There were both in the past, but they all ate shit during our last battle.”
“I’m looking for a mercenary mage by the name of Deckard,” said Sungchul.
“Deckard? Ah, are you talking about number 22?” Arkaard’s face lost composure for a moment.
“Does he happen to be dead?” Sungchul immediately followed up with another question, but Arkaard shook his head.
“He’s alive.”
It was a relief. Bertelgia shook her body with joy in Sungchul’s stead.
“But, that friend will not live much longer.”
“Did he receive a critical wound?”
Arkaard shook his head once again.
“No, he continues to volunteer himself to the most dangerous missions. It’s as though he came to this place to die.”
“I wish to meet him at least once. Where can I find him?”
Arkaard pointed toward a particular tent. It was a cosy tent placed next to a pointed rock that looked like the blade of a spear. Sungchul displayed the appropriate amount of formality before excusing himself and headed toward the tent that Deckard was supposedly residing in.
He could hear the sound of blades clashing and ragged breaths being drawn near the tent. It was the sound of two men sparring. One was wielding a sword while the other wielded a staff, and they were sparring with such intensity as if they were fighting on the battlefield itself.
The one wielding the sword ended in victory, and the one with the staff dropped his weapon and fell onto his butt while sighing loudly.
“Isn’t this enough, Deckard?” asked the sword wielder.
Sungchul’s sights turned toward the man referred to as Deckard. He was well past middle age, but his face still had remnants of youth. He looked more like Sarasa than Altugius.
The man looked too tired to even lift his own body, yet he called out for another challenge. The one wielding the sword firmly declined. “I’d rather not exhaust myself before a battle. We never know when we’re going to be sent in, so let’s just call it quits here.”
After the spar ended, the onlookers scattered. Sungchul waited for the onlookers to disappear before he approached Deckard who was standing by himself.
“Are you Deckard?”
Deckard, who was still breathing quite heavily, looked up toward Sungchul. “Who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you before?”
Sungchul handed him the item he had received from Altugius. Deckard’s face lit up in surprise.
“How did you get a hold of this?”
“Professor Altugius sends me to you. He told me to seek you if I sought to raise my Magic Power substantially within the shortest amount of time.”
“Ah, you’ve voluntarily come to the suicide unit for such a purpose?”
“There is no time to be picky about the method.”
“Could I take a look at your stats then?”
Sungchul agreed to Deckard’s request. Deckard pulled out a scroll, which he ripped apart, then he looked at Sungchul’s stats. Laughter soon exploded from his mouth.
“What a reckless man. It's probably not my place to say this on our first meeting, but isn’t it excessive to come to the frontlines of the Demon Realm with only that level of stats? With your current stats, forget getting stronger; you'd only get in the way.” Deckard harshly criticised Sungchul.
“Since I am already here, isn’t going back no longer an option?” replied Sungchul.
Sungchul had received the order to complete five missions under the suicide unit. If he left the suicide unit before completing this order, he would be considered as a deserter. Sungchul was referring to this fact.
Deckard simply looked indifferent. He put on the shirt dangling under the tent and spoke again. “The only reason I have come here is to push myself to my limits. It was for the express purpose of cultivating fast growth that I have constantly placed myself in dangerous and difficult-to-overcome situations. Such as the man now called the Enemy of the World had done.”
Deckard would never know, even in his wildest dreams, that the man he spoke of as the Enemy of the World was standing right before him. He continued speaking, “It’s not really a boast, but I have built this body through considerable training to be a powerful mage and warrior. Than
ks to this, I was able to preserve at least my life through many dire situations during my missions. How about you? I would imagine it’d be difficult to survive.”
“If I do survive?” Sungchul retorted in a calm voice. “If I do survive, will you impart what you know to me?”
Deckard looked deep into Sungchul’s face, then spoke curtly. “Rockhead is planning something stupid for tomorrow right at this moment. Try and survive that. If you do, I shall share with you a quest you might be able to complete.”
***
The next day.
As Deckard had said, Rockhead gathered all the members of the unit. Eighty lifers had gathered, excluding the injured. He stood on a podium and spoke in a uselessly heroic voice.
“As you all know, the demon scouts have taken over a particular guard post affiliated with our Storm Battlefront. That guard post itself doesn’t have much importance, but what matters is its location. Headquarters says that we must recapture that guard post regardless of cost.”
He then spoke of his plan next.
“Currently, our numbers are at eighty-three members. Twenty in the north, twenty in the east, twenty in the west, and the remaining members will come with me and attack the fortification from the south.”
Surprisingly, that was the entire plan. Rockhead didn’t impart any idea on how each designated unit will coordinate with each other or move at all. He only had an attack from every side on his mind. “If we attack from every side, the demons will not be able to endure it!”
It was truly a thoughtless plan, but no one dared to say another word. The fact that Rockhead was feared for his strength was one thing, but they also knew that he wasn’t a man to be reasoned with.
Rockhead soon divided all of the troops into four, and veteran soldiers were designated as the leaders for each group. Each group, composed of a unit of twenty, was given a magic scroll for signalling, and their march toward death began.
Sungchul entered the unit designated as the third group. The strategy went along relatively smoothly, and the suicide unit arrived at the guard post with no major issues. They then encircled the guard post containing the demons.
“Let us go, my fellow brethren of sin!” shouted Rockhead with his blade held high.
UWOOONG–
A bluish aura emanated from the violet-tinted blade. It was the speciality of a Sword Master: Sword Aura. He stood at the front to lead the attack.
“Follow me! Let us all be atoned!”
The demons stationed on the guard post were mostly weaklings, and their numbers were few. Rockhead scaled the post wall and climbed onto the watch tower. The demons could do nothing but be helplessly slain by his blade. The guard post was recaptured quite easily with no casualties. It was all over before the eastern and northern groups could even begin their attack.
“Isn’t this too easy?”
The veteran soldiers felt a terrible premonition. The all-important strategic point had been hollowed out with nothing but bait. If the demons intended to defend the guard post, there would be a Balroq at the very least or a Baal-grade demon or two, but only feeble goblins and imps were stationed at the guard post.
The soldiers felt a sense of Deja Vu. The situation unfolding in the current moment seemed extremely similar to the last battle, one where half of the suicide unit had fallen in a tragic combat.
Finally, the most veteran soldier among them, Arkaard, advised Rockhead, “Commander, I think the demons gave up the guard post a bit too easily. It reeks of a trap. It might be good to fall back for now and watch their movements.”
This head of rock wasn’t one to listen to reason. He instead raged at Arkaard and criticised him. “What kind of pussy talk is that? Number 0! Can you call yourself a suicide unit member after such talk?”
“But… it just doesn’t feel right. Didn’t we lose half of our unit in a similar fashion during the last battle?”
Normal people would feel discouraged after experiencing such utter defeat, but Rockhead wasn’t as such. He spoke boldly without a hint of shame on his face. “Even if this was the trap of those demons, we must hold our ground!”
He went a step further and gathered all forces, and gave a rousing speech with a voice filled with determination.
“Our mission is to secure the guard post until the main forces arrive. The first stage has been completed successfully. All that is left is to hold this guard post until our lives are spent. Hold your grounds, my brothers!”
Deckard, who heard the speech, let out a frosty retort. “I don’t recall having such a brother.”
Sungchul was in agreement, and soon the gut feeling became a reality. Five soldiers deserted. One of the deserters was caught by Rockhead and hung as an example, but that was only the beginning. When the sun fell, signs of demons began to appear from all over. The scouts continuously brought ill news.
“Objects suspected to be Hell Siege Engines detected! Approaching from the north!”
“A swarm of imps suspected to be in the hundreds climbing the mountain ridge and approaching from the west.”
“One Balroq confirmed! More than two Baal-grades approaching as well.”
When darkness fell, the Suicide unit, composed of about eighty members, was surrounded by devils and demonfolk in the thousands.
“Didn’t I tell you? It’s not so easy surviving in this place.” Deckard spoke in a silence appropriate for the Storm Battlefront after approaching Sungchul. He handed Sungchul a single scroll. It was a long-distance teleportation scroll.
“If you rip this scroll, you’ll be teleported to the orange-tinted mountaintop that is the suicide unit headquarters.”
“Why are you giving this to me?” Sungchul bluntly threw out his question.
Deckard simply scratched his head. “You seem to have Alchemist within your classes. If the situation seems disadvantageous, just rip the scroll, bow down to the Storm Battlefront liaison, and beg for forgiveness. An alchemist can be pardoned for his crime and be pulled out of the suicide unit in exchange for forced labor at a potion factory. Isn’t it better working to the bone for two years than dying?”
It appeared as though Deckard had been giving Sungchul a lot of consideration. However, his concerns were misplaced. Sungchul returned the scroll and asked another question in a calm voice, “The promise from before. Is it still valid?”
Deckard only smiled bitterly. “It’s valid.”
Deckard let out a sigh before leaving Sungchul. Not long after he left, the sound of drumming could be heard. It was the drums of the demonfolk. The shrill sound of a bone horn followed soon after that, sharply tearing through the air. The demonic forces soon began their attack.
***
The war machine made of steel in the shape of a gigantic scorpion spat out green flames from the tip of its tail. Hell Siege Engines were frequently used by Demon forces during large-scale sieges. The cackling of demons echoed in the dry air as the Hell Siege Engines spat out flames. The magic cannon of the devils installed on the portion of the Siege Engine which resembled the mouth of a scorpion shot out green fireballs that drew an arc in the night sky as they struck the walls of the guard post.
BOOM!
The entire guard post shook as the inextinguishable green flame roared ferociously at the point of impact, causing tiny demons made of fire to scatter about like ants.
“Kikikiki!”
They were from a lower class of demons called the Minor Ember Spirit. All they knew was sticking to nearby people and causing them to ignite, but even these demons were a danger on a chaotic battlefield.
Genghis Aaron, the Rockhead, stepped on a Minor Ember Spirit with his steel boots and extinguished it. “Stomp on those tiny shits and get rid of ‘em unless you want to catch on fire later!”
The soldiers followed his order and quickly began to stomp out the Minor Ember Spirits. However, the siege engines continued to unleash their payload, leaving dozens of new Minor Ember Spirits to run amok within the walls as the vanguards of
the Demon army began their advance while beating their war drums.
“Humans! Kill ‘em all!”
Monsters reaching five meters in height began to reveal their forms in the darkness. They were Depraved Trolls. Steel blinders were tightly attached to their flesh and skull so as to obstruct their vision and vile demonic magic was cast upon them to further empower their brute strength in order to use them as a vanguard in large scale battles.
“Mages and archers to the front! Focus fire onto the big ones!” commanded Genghis.
An elven soldier holding a bow pulled out an arrow shining in a silvery light from his quiver and pulled his string. He would have aimed for its eyes if they were normal trolls, but due to its steel blinders, it didn’t have any particular weaknesses. The elven soldier aimed for the imp riding on a palanquin tightly strapped to the back of the troll’s neck instead.
The imp was a sort of a driver, which controlled the troll’s movement by manipulating a wooden peg buried deep enough into the troll’s neck that it touched the spine.
FWIIK~
The elf’s arrow sailed through the air and accurately pierced through the imp’s throat.
“Kyeeek!” The arrow had punched through the imp’s neck. It fell leftward while still holding onto the reins, and the Depraved Troll followed the dead imp’s lead turning toward the left.
“Gwuuuuh~” The troll continued turning left until it was on a collision course with another troll.
“Grab it! Grab that thing!”
Other imps frantically pulled off the dead imp from the driver’s seat and tried to regain control, but another arrow from the elf struck the replacement imp’s body, causing the blind troll to complete its collision with the other troll.
“Gwuuuuuh!!!” The troll that had been tortured continuously throughout its life and stressed to the absolute limit began to swing its fists in a mad frenzy at the thing it had collided with. The other troll didn’t hesitate and swung back in response.
BOOM! BOOM!
As the two massive trolls began to fight to the death in the middle of the vanguard units, the enemy’s assault devolved into chaos. Dozens of imps marching around the trolls’ feet were crushed to death, causing the following procession to stop momentarily.
