"Knights are coming up!"
First, I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Our siege supplies had run dry a long time ago.
If we had boiling oil—no, even just regular oil—we could pour it down below and set it ablaze, and even those knight bastards wouldn't be able to climb up.
"Fire!"
Even in the middle of that, the commands directing the archers rang out like thunder.
"Bellun! I'll help too!"
Having loosed his arrow on command, a guy didn't fall back to the ranks and instead took up position right across from me with the ladder propped between us.
A soldier named Tom.
The guy who'd acted like Squad Leader Henny's adjutant earlier.
"Thanks!"
"Don't thank me! If this spot gets breached, we're the first ones to die anyway."
He had a point.
Before those enemy knight bastards make it to the top, I need to throw something down at them...
"Damn it!"
Now that it's come to this, I don't have a choice.
With not even broken rubble from the parapet left around us, there is only one thing left to throw.
"Where are you going?!"
"Just hold on a second!"
Tom called out in panic, and I was in just as much of a rush.
The corpses of our allies piled up along the inner side of the ramparts.
"What are you doing?!"
"Don't ask when you can see for yourself! Cut the chatter and help me haul them!"
He was the sole remaining third-rank archer from our three-man team.
Glaring at him with killing intent, I snapped.
Cowardly bastard.
The bastard who had slipped out of formation all by himself even while watching Tom and me hold the wall.
His name was Hans.
Grabbing two corpses from the pile by the backs of their collars, I dragged them over.
"Are you out of your mind?!"
He stepped in front of me to block my path as I dragged the corpses.
I knew why he was acting like this.
Camaraderie ran deep in the Kingdom of Arden.
He must have been reacting out of revulsion at using the corpses of fallen comrades as projectiles.
"Out of the way, you idiot!"
I kicked Hans right out of my path.
"Gah!"
Letting out a yelp, Hans sprawled onto the stones.
Watching the scene unfold, the other nearby soldiers stared with wide eyes.
I don't have time to care about accusing glares right now.
Hefting a still-limp corpse onto my shoulder, I sprinted back to where Tom was holding out.
Because I had just spotted the steel gauntlet of an enemy knight gripping the top of the ladder.
Rousing my mana, I reinforced my muscles.
The dead weight of a limp corpse was heavier than I'd thought.
"Hyaaap!"
Mustering enough strength to force a grunt from my throat, I hoisted the corpse high above my head.
Charging forward at full tilt, I slammed the corpse straight down onto the enemy knight poking his head over the battlements.
"Uwaaaaaah!"
Tangled together with our fallen soldier's corpse, the enemy knight plummeted down the wall.
There is no time to hesitate.
Turning right around, I hauled over the second corpse I'd dragged up earlier and hurled it down the ladder.
An enemy knight climbing up the rungs tried to swat the falling corpse aside, lost his footing, and tumbled all the way down.
As I spun back around, Tom across from me loosed an arrow straight down the ladder.
Yeah, if you're going to back me up, that's how you do it.
"I said get out of the way, you idiot!"
Kicking the helmet of Hans, who was still sitting dazed on the stones, I rushed past him.
Getting in the way for nothing.
"In a fucking war, we're busy enough just keeping the living alive! You pathetic idiots!"
Dragging another corpse over, I hurled it over the edge.
By now, I didn't even need to lean over the wall and expose myself.
With several of the climbing knights knocked off the top rungs, dropping corpses from higher up did the job on its own.
Just as I hefted another corpse to throw it down, by some rotten luck, I recognized the face.
"Thank you, Gridden! Let's meet again once the war is over!"
Calling out the dead man's name, I rolled him down along the ladder.
I won't forget Gridden, who sacrificed himself for us—and for me—all over again even after death.
All the while,
"First rank!"
"Fire!"
"Shield-bearers! Cover the spearmen!"
KABOOM—!
"Aaaargh!"
CRASH—!
Orders, screams, and the thunderous impacts of catapult stones battering the fortress walls never stopped for a second.
My job still wasn't done.
Turning to fetch another corpse...
"Inodel! Koran! I'm sorry!"
I caught sight of Hans bawling his eyes out as he dragged two corpses over toward me.
Idiot... making a whole production out of it.
Still, maybe because he stepped up and did it himself, the other soldiers started dragging corpses over to me as well.
It seemed they just couldn't bring themselves to throw their comrades' bodies over the wall with their own hands.
Fine by me.
I'm not afraid of taking the blame.
After everything I went through to make it back alive from the Demon Realm, taking a few curses beats dying some absurd death here any day.
"Hurry!"
Taking the corpses they handed me, I hurled them straight down the wall.
Screams echoed faintly from below.
Over and over, I threw corpses down the ladder and held back the enemies climbing up.
And when there wasn't a single corpse left to throw, real hell began for me.
***
"Uuuugh..."
"N-no way..."
"Vicious bastards! Just what... what kind of monsters are these guys?!"
Inside the siege tower, the Kingdom of Belarus troops shrank back step by faltering step.
Their eyes were filled to the brim with terror.
Felling trees from the surrounding mountains to build siege towers and rolling them right up against Fortress Bladers had gone well enough.
Though their casualties had been heavy, Fortress Bladers had neither the means to launch fire attacks nor any arrows left to shoot.
They had worn down every last bit of the fortress's siege supplies and moved in to seize the ramparts with their siege towers, yet the situation looked anything but optimistic.
The knights sent in at the very front of the assault had vanished without a trace.
Where they had gone was obvious just from watching the Kingdom of Arden troops hurling corpses over the battlements earlier.
"What are you doing up there?! Move out!"
"Get out onto the wall, you sons of bitches!"
The Kingdom of Belarus soldiers waiting down below bellowed at the top of their lungs, yet the troops crammed at the exit of the siege tower couldn't take a single step forward.
Surrounding the ramp of the siege tower, the Kingdom of Arden soldiers didn't even look human.
Their military uniforms, once green, were soaked black with blood, and the eyes glinting through the slits of their helmets were steeped in madness.
Above all, the soldier standing dead center radiated a bloodlust so horrifying it made them sick at the mere thought of getting closer.
It was Bellun.
"Come on!"
Pointing Dark Reaper into the interior of the siege tower, Bellun looked every bit like a fiend crawled straight out of hell.
Caked in layer upon layer of dried blood, his shortsword barely looked like a blade anymore so much as a club.
After taking a relentless beating, even his uniform hung in tatters.
Yet far from backing down, he took a step forward into the tower.
At Bellun's feet lay the corpse of a Kingdom of Belarus soldier, blood gurgling thick and fast from its neck.
A soldier of Belarus who had lunged forward unable to bear the terror, only to have his head lopped right off.
"Eeeek!"
"I-I can't do this!"
"The other towers can't break out either!"
"It's the same over by the ladders! These vicious bastards! Are they even human?!"
Trapped inside the siege tower, unable to push out onto the wall or retreat down the stairs, the Kingdom of Belarus troops screamed in despair.
Right as they floundered in sheer panic,
BWOOOOOM... BWOOOOOM...
The mournful blast of a horn echoed from the main camp of the Kingdom of Belarus's army.
"R-retreat!"
"It's the retreat horn!"
"Go down, hurry and get down!"
Stricken with terror, the Kingdom of Belarus troops raised an uproar the instant they heard the horn.
However, the Kingdom of Arden soldiers had no intention of letting them off easy.
"Kill them all! Every bastard we kill now makes the next fight easier!"
Bellun lunged into the tower.
"Kill them!"
"Slaughter them!"
Soldiers who had been swaying on their feet like zombies moments ago bared their madness and charged into the siege tower.
Screaming and shoving with their backs turned as they scrambled to climb down, the Kingdom of Belarus troops took swords and spears in the back and collapsed in droves.
Bellun and the other soldiers roughly yanked the dead bodies out of the way to clear room, slaughtering the enemy without mercy.
"Run! Hurry! We're all going to... Argh!"
"Please, hurry up and get down! Move down, you sons of bitches!"
Drenched in the spray of blood raining down from above, the Kingdom of Belarus troops clawed their way down the tower.
"Hold up! That's far enough."
Bellun stopped an allied soldier who was about to chase them down the stairs.
Because he judged it reckless bravado.
'I'm about ready to drop dead myself—if we chase them down there, we're finished.'
He shook his head at the soldier panting heavily with wild, gleaming eyes.
Right now, the rush of victory was keeping them on their feet, but if they chased the enemy down the tower, they might very well collapse from exhaustion mid-pursuit.
That was how grueling the battle had been.
Slowly, Bellun walked out of the siege tower.
All over again, the stench stabbed at his nose.
Fresh blood had been sprayed across the ramparts time and time again, and now that the temperature had risen quite a bit, the reek was thick enough to make his head throb.
'Wish it would rain or something.'
Looking up at the sky, Bellun clicked his tongue.
The goddamn weather was needlessly clear and sunny.
He turned his gaze out beyond the battered, crumbling battlements.
Having heard the retreat horn, the Kingdom of Belarus's army was falling back toward their main camp, leaving behind a staggering mountain of corpses.
'Goddamn bastards! Picking this exact time to invade and put us through this living hell.'
"Tch!"
Just watching them retreat made his blood boil.
Right then,
FWEEEEET...
Something shot high into the sky with a shrill whistle.
On reflex, Bellun raised his head toward the sound.
Trailing a tail of smoke as it climbed into the air, a signal flare burst open, scattering bright light and crimson smoke across the sky.
The boom of the explosion hit his eardrums a moment later.
KABOOM—!
Wondering what was going on, Bellun let out a low murmur of admiration.
From the low hills along the route the Kingdom of Belarus's army had advanced through, an uncountable cloud of arrows soared into the sky.
Right behind it, a massive cloud of dust billowed up.
At least several thousand cavalrymen came thundering down on horseback, charging straight into the main camp of the Kingdom of Belarus's army.
At a single glance, he could tell they weren't an order of knights.
Not only were their numbers unusually large, their armor consisted of simple cuirasses covering only their chests.
'Mounted archers?'
The arrows nocked in the hands of the charging mounted archers were ablaze with fire.
Volleys of fire arrows rained down into the Kingdom of Belarus's main camp all at once, followed immediately by another wave of arrows with small pouches tied to their shafts.
Just as he was wondering what those were supposed to do,
The instant that second wave of arrows hit the ground inside the Kingdom of Belarus's main camp, roaring flames erupted everywhere.
And when one more volley of fire arrows slammed into the enemy camp right behind it, the entire encampment turned into a sea of fire in the blink of an eye.
Retreating from Fortress Bladers, the Kingdom of Belarus troops were thrown into utter chaos.
Countless arrows rained down on them while the camp they were supposed to fall back to blazed like an inferno.
And that was only the beginning of their nightmare.
From the low hills flanking both sides of Fortress Bladers, a barrage of spells poured down.
Though no more than low-tier magic, most of the enemy mages had been stationed inside the main camp, leaving the retreating army with no way to defend against the bombardment.
Caught in the illusion that arrows and spells were flying at them from every direction, the enemy troops lost their heads completely.
'So the troops from Count Bladers's Castle didn't hold back to prepare for the next battle—they were all deployed in an ambush from the start? It's over.'
Bellun let out a dry laugh.
After he'd fought to the brink of death on the walls, watching the enemy army get crushed so effortlessly left him dumbstruck.
[Knights, ride forth! Leave them no avenue of escape! We have no need for prisoners! Take every last head!]
A heavy, booming voice cut clearly through the deafening screams.
Bellun looked over at the man who had spoken.
Standing at the center of the watchtower connected to the ramparts, a man clad in full plate armor raised a battleaxe and pointed it at the enemy.
Count Olivion Bladers.
In the Kingdom of Arden—no, even in neighboring kingdoms—he was known by the epithet 'Butcher of the North.'
Along with another title: 'Count of Annihilation.'
'He still had more troops hidden away in reserve?'
Bellun couldn't help being amazed.
GRRRRRND...
Moments later, the fortress gates swung open, and knights clad in full plate armor poured out on horseback, lances couched in hand.
The forward troops who had lain in ambush marched down from the hills and formed ranks, while the enemy soldiers scrambled blindly in search of anywhere to flee.
Forming an encirclement, the main castle's forces launched precise strikes, steadily whittling down the enemy's numbers.
Meanwhile, the knights and mounted archers hunted down every enemy soldier who broke through the cordon, cutting them down without mercy.
Their every move radiated an iron resolve to carry out Count Bladers's ruthless order to the letter.
'Definitely not a pretty sight.'
Bellun gave a wry smile.
Because he understood why the Count refused to take prisoners.
It was to carve 'terror' into the enemy's bones so they would never dare provoke Arden lightly again.
The population of the Kingdom of Arden was small compared to its neighbors.
The Kingdom of Belarus alone had three times the population of the Kingdom of Arden.
By slaughtering the enemy thoroughly whenever the chance arose, Arden inflicted crippling losses that stretched out the time needed to prepare for the next war.
If you let them go alive, every last one of them would simply return as an enemy in the next invasion.
[Victory is ours! Raise a battle cry!]
""Waaaaaaah!""
"We won!"
"Long live Count Bladers! Hurrah!"
"Goddamn bastards! Drop dead, every last one of you!"
Mustering strength from who knew where, the soldiers defending the fortress roared in unison at Count Bladers's call.
"Ah, hell with it! Uwaaaaaah!"
Shaking his head in disbelief, Bellun let out a mighty shout right along with them.
Because it had been a battle where he couldn't let his guard down for a single second, his exhaustion was bone-deep.
Yet for this one moment, the joy of victory made him forget all his fatigue.
[Commanders, see that the fortress garrison is fed until their bellies burst and given full rest! The lads from the main castle will handle the cleanup! Well fought! Truly well fought, my proud soldiers!]
Drunk on the rush of triumph, Count Bladers bellowed loud enough to shake the fortress.
The cheers grew even louder, and the faces of the soldiers chanting his name flushed red with emotion.
'Talking about food in a place like this?'
Shouting alongside the other soldiers, Bellun let out a dry chuckle.
With corpses littering every inch of ground and the stench of dried blood and spilled guts thick in the air, talking about a feast right here felt surreal.
GRRRMBLE...
'Right, humans have to eat to live.'
Bellun smirked.
In the middle of the most bizarre setting imaginable, his stomach had reminded him all over again that he was human.