Chapter 655
The North.
Banzdale Village.
“Emergency! Emergency! Anyone who can hold a weapon, get out here!”
“They’ve broken through the third line!”
“Then pile up the barricades, at least!”
The Banzdale villagers’ militia, drenched in blood, shouted at the top of their lungs. Old or young, it didn’t matter—everyone carried stones and reinforced the barricades. Some even chopped down their own houses for wood.
But the invaders gave them no time.
“They’re coming!”
Over the barricade, countless undeads began to appear.
The main force was Yeti Zombies—monsters once roaming the snowy mountains, now rotten and reanimated. Their bodies were riddled with holes, with decayed organs and bones protruding grotesquely as they staggered forward.
Their once-white fur was either matted red with dried blood or blackened with rot.
Other northern monsters, too, stumbled in zombified or skeletal forms. The horde drew closer, and behind the crude barricades, villagers and militia waited with grim, tight faces.
“Listen to me, everyone!”
An elderly man shouted.
“The difference in strength is too great! If we keep this up, even the children with bright futures will die pointlessly. We should retreat and wait for the Grand Duke’s return—”
Thwack!
A hatchet buried itself into the old man’s arm. He collapsed, screaming.
“The so-called veteran warrior of legend in his youth—”
A burly militia member with a rough face and a thick black beard strode forward.
“—in old age, you’re nothing but a senile fool smearing filth on the walls.”
“You…!”
Smash!
He stomped on the old man’s face and roared:
“The people of the North have pride!”
His booming voice carried over the crowd as he swept his gaze over them.
“Mark my words—pride is worth more than life itself! One day we’ll all die drooling like this old man, but what’s the worth of clinging to life? Pride, once broken, can never be regained!”
He raised his axe high.
“Fight! Fight and die together! Today, this is where we make our stand!”
“Wooooooaah!”
The villagers roared back, lifting their weapons. They screamed louder and louder, desperate to drown their fear. But on some faces, terror still broke through.
“The undeads are right in front of us!”
“Shut up and shoot!”
Arrows flew over the barricades. Shouts of “Die! Die!” rang out. A few undead dropped, but against the massive horde, it was nothing.
“Keep firing! Don’t stop, you worms!”
“Leslie, we’re out of arrows!”
After loosing everything they had, their quivers ran empty too quickly.
“Damn it!”
A militiaman leapt over the barricade with his axe raised.
“No choice left! Everyone forward! We fight to the death!”
With war cries, the militia vaulted the barricades. Villagers hesitated, then followed.
“They may take our lives, but they won’t break the pride of the North! Go!”
“Woooooaaah!”
The black-bearded man led the charge toward the horde.
Boom! Boom!
Heavy footsteps echoed like war drums.
A zombie was crushed under a colossal foot. Then a massive undead lumbered forward, forcing the militia to halt.
“…That’s…!”
“It’s a Named! The Gourmet!”
A giant undead bear—the “Gourmet”. The name came from its gruesome habit of eating only the most attractive humans during raids.
Despair swept across the warriors’ faces. Since it had earned its name years ago, no one had ever slain it.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Unlike the other Yetis, the Gourmet charged on all fours, its rotten entrails swaying beneath, maw split into four parts shrieking horribly.
“Shit! Don’t falter! We are Northerners!”
While everyone froze, the black-bearded man surged forward, mana bursting from his legs as he leapt, bringing his axe down on the monster’s cheek.
Splurt!
Black blood sprayed as the blade bit deep. Hanging from his axe, he laughed wildly.
“How’s that taste?! You damn—”
He never finished. The Gourmet’s massive paw swatted him aside, hurling him tens of meters back into the barricade.
“Leslie!”
When the dust cleared, his body was impaled through the chest by sharpened stakes of the barricade.
“Shi—iiit…”
His eyes went lifeless instantly.
“Dammit!”
The militia faltered, backing away, trapped against their own barricades.
Boom. Boom.
The Gourmet rose onto two legs like a mountain heaving upward, casting its shadow over them. Behind, the undead horde poured in relentlessly.
What use was pride in the face of inevitable death? They gripped their weapons but could only tremble.
The Gourmet’s massive paw swung down.
Kraaaash!
A brilliant white light flashed. When the Northerners opened their eyes, the beast’s arm was cleaved and flung skyward, claws glinting in sunlight.
Clang!
A knight in black armor strode forward behind the barricade, a crimson cape billowing, the sigil of the North emblazoned on his back.
“Ah…”
The villagers stared, some collapsing with relief, others crying out.
“The Grand Duke! The Grand Duke has returned!”
“We’re saved!”
“Wooooooaaah!”
The entire mountain seemed to shake with their cries.
The black-armored knight lowered his greatsword, smiling awkwardly under his helm.
‘Good thing they don’t know.’
Of course, it wasn’t the Grand Duke.
It was Simon.
The deafening cheers revealed just how much the North revered their liege.
‘Alright then.’
The maimed Gourmet staggered back as waves of undead pressed forward. Simon stretched out his arm.
‘March, my Legion!’
At his command, undead poured over the barricade.
Far from screaming, the people erupted in joy.
“The Grand Duke’s undead army!”
“They’re ours! We’re saved!”
The main force was a horde of Deathland Zombies. At the front bounded the smallest of them all—a zombie wearing a crown.
[Let’s gooo!]
Prince leapt and slammed his fist, shattering the Yeti Zombies’ formation. The zombie army charged like a spear, smashing through the enemy lines.
Simon gave calm orders through thought.
‘Feer! Evacuate the villagers with skeletons!’
[Understood, boy!]
‘Erze, Akemius, hold the flanks!’
[Your command is my will, Legion Commander!]
[Departing at once, young master.]
On the left, Erzebet’s Corpse Spiders webbed down Yetis charging blindly, tearing them apart. On the right, Akemius and his Skullwings swooped, clutching Yetis by the shoulders and dropping them from the sky.
The flanks drove the horde toward the center.
‘Good.’
With the villagers safe, Simon advanced with his Legion.
The enemies were bunched together. Now was the time for a massive strike.
‘Ready, Herseba?’
[Always!]
The lich-turned-staff, Herseba, floated above, shaped like a woman of sand seated atop the staff.
Clack!
Simon grasped the staff; the sand-woman’s form scattered away.
‘Here we go!’
<Golden Transmutation>
Simon struck the ground, turning it into gold. From the golden streets, structures rose, and mummies burst forth.
Shrrrk!
The mummies wrapped nearby zombies in bandages and hurled them into the battlefield’s center.
Simon clenched his fist.
<Corpse Explosion>
The zombies hurled into the enemy’s midst exploded the instant they struck the ground. A single detonation wiped out over a dozen Yeti Zombies in one blow.
The tide of battle turned in an instant.
From afar, the villagers erupted in cheers.
“As expected of the Grand Duke’s Legion!”
“Didn’t he bring along his knights this time?”
“Bah, with this much power, who needs knights? He must be testing out new troops.”
No one doubted it. Of course, they believed Simon’s undead were the Grand Duke’s Legion. After all, who else but the Grand Duke himself could command such vast numbers of undead?
Simon’s lips curled into a smile.
‘Here…!’
This was nothing like Roke Island. Here, he might truly grow as a Legion Commander.
—Grrraaaaah!
But though the battle was tilting in their favor, one creature still tore through the ranks with terrifying force.
The Named undead, the one Northerners themselves had christened, the ‘Gourmet’.
Even with one arm severed by Simon and Feer, the Gourmet swelled its remaining arm with concentrated Darkness, swatting aside zombies like flies.
If this continued, Simon’s army would suffer heavy casualties.
‘Prince, I’m counting on you. Leave the Core intact.’
[What? Can’t I just finish it off?]
‘No.’
Prince clicked his tongue and darted forward, leaping through the horde. The small zombie sprang into the air before the rampaging Gourmet.
[Take this!]
His fist clenched tight.
[Hidden Card Punch!]
The air thundered as his fist smashed into the Gourmet’s jaw.
Craaaash!
The Gourmet reeled back, collapsing onto its rear. Prince grinned smugly.
[What’s the matter, huh? You been rotting for a hundred years, you fossil?!]
But before he even landed, the Gourmet’s massive swollen arm swept out.
Boom!
Prince was knocked clear across the field.
‘Oh.’
Simon could only marvel. To stand toe-to-toe with one of the Legion’s Ancient Undead—astonishing.
The Gourmet raged wilder than ever, thrashing within the Corpse Spiders’ webs, crushing Simon’s soldiers underfoot, even snapping the webs apart.
Slice!
Feer clicked his tongue and strode up beside Simon.
[Shall I intervene, boy?]
“No need.”
Simon waved him off.
“No matter how strong, numbers will wear it down.”
From every direction, mummies’ bandages whipped out, binding its limbs. Above, Skullwings scattered cursed feathers. Corpse Spiders sank fangs into rotting flesh.
The Gourmet slowed.
‘Now.’
Simon detonated the zombies clinging to its body. Boom! The blasts staggered the beast, driving it to its knees.
Through the smoke, a small zombie leapt down from above.
[No more holding back!]
Prince appeared unharmed, raising both clasped fists high.
Bwooooom!
This time, the Gourmet’s skull caved into the ground, gouging a crater.
“It’s over. Well done, everyone.”
The rest of the undead horde was crushed soon after.
With the battlefield secure, Simon strode toward the fallen Gourmet.
[You mean to make this one yours?]
“Yeah.”
As a natural undead, not a summoned one, it could be integrated into the Legion.
Prince hauled the corpse flat and tore away its chest skin, revealing the throbbing Core beneath.
Simon placed his palm over it to perform Legionization—
Kiiiiiiiiing!
‘!’
The Core, which had been pulsing normally, suddenly flared violently, Darkness surging to critical levels.
‘What—!’
[Danger! Step back, boy!]
Feer rushed forward, placing his own hand over the Core. With mastery of Darkness on another plane, he quickly suppressed the eruption.
[Hahaha! Things are becoming interesting indeed.]
Feer grinned, flooding the Core with his Darkness until it stabilized.
‘What’s going on, Feer?’
[I’ll explain soon enough. But first… we must speak with the Grand Duke himself.]
As he withdrew, the Gourmet stirred, stabilized and rising again.
Simon felt a strange kinship with it. Black-blue smoke drifted from its body. He chuckled.
“Welcome to the Legion.”
Grrrowl!
The Gourmet dipped its head submissively. Simon stroked its skull.
* * *
Meanwhile, at the same time.
Northern Carlos, Dondra.
Neigh! Snort!
Undead cavalry blanketed the snowfield. Corpses lay strewn everywhere.
[…Strange. Too easy.]
The Grand Duke, clad in black armor, muttered.
“Your Grace! Your Grace! Bad news!”
[?]
A messenger sprinted forward, kneeling.
“Report! Banzdale has come under massive undead assault! A Named—the ‘Gourmet’—is confirmed among them!”
The Grand Duke’s teeth clenched.
[So… we’ve been outmaneuvered. What’s the situation?]
“When I departed, the attack had already begun! Forgive me, but the village may already have fallen!”
Without a word, the Grand Duke mounted his steed.
[We ride for Banzdale at once.]
“Yes, Your Grace!”
Just then, another rider galloped in, snow piled atop his head from the haste.
“Good news, sire! Banzdale has…!”
He froze mid-report, staring nervously.
[Well? Speak.]
“Y-Yes! A report claims… Your Grace successfully defended Banzdale!”
[…]
A silence hung.
[…Who, exactly, defended it?]
Superb.
When are we getting more free chapters?
Thanks for the new chapters
Very good story and translation but half the chapter aren't for free and it is wayyyy too expensive will it stat like tjis foreve or will it get free after some time