Chapter 116
While breaking away from the enemy lines, he fed each conspicuous building a single fireball.
With roaring explosions, flames spread wildly. As the deliberate “accidents” continued one after another, the beasts tore through their own encampment trying to find the intruder…
“…The enemy’s coming from the front.”
Woojin’s ears were keener than the beasts’.
Whenever he sensed he was about to run into them, he immediately detoured or concealed himself to avoid engagement. When necessary, he assassinated a target and fled.
The damage kept piling up, yet not even a shadow of the intruder could be found. It was as if they were haunted by a ghost. The beasts fell into even greater confusion.
Leaving that chaos behind, Woojin vaulted over the wooden palisade and escaped the enemy camp.
“We’ve worked hard so far. Let’s take a break.”
“You’ve done well.”
Stopping halfway up the mountain, Woojin spoke as if offering praise. Arwen voiced her concern.
“Shouldn’t we run farther? A pursuit team might come after us.”
“They won’t have the spare time.”
He had caused mischief everywhere; by now they would be frantic trying to deal with the damage.
Woojin jerked his chin toward a towering tree.
“Let’s go up there and watch the fire.”
“…All right.”
They climbed the tree together.
Two people and a squirrel settled onto a thick branch. From up high, they had a better view of the surroundings.
Buildings burned beautifully in the distance.
Woojin untied his bundle and handed a bull’s inner core to Arwen and Coco, one each.
“Here. Midnight snack.”
“Perfect. I needed this.”
Arwen and Coco were exhausted from using their abilities repeatedly. Consuming an inner core at times like this greatly helped restore their stamina.
Chewing on inner cores instead of popcorn, they watched the enemy camp literally turn into a battlefield of chaos.
“The confusion doesn’t seem to be dying down.”
“Probably because Probato is dead.”
The sheep who walked on two legs—Probato.
Sheep held higher rank than other beasts, nobles with powerful strength. The one Woojin had assassinated earlier must have been the administrator who ruled this district.
Arwen asked, sounding curious,
“Was Probato strong?”
“I don’t know. He was asleep face-down on his bed, so I just grabbed his neck and twisted it… Now that you mention it, I’m curious too.”
He had killed the sheep and taken its inner core, yet he had no idea how capable it had actually been.
“You said the higher the status, the stronger they are, right?”
“Most likely. The Probato you killed was probably at least a baron or maybe a viscount… Didn’t he have something like an insignia?”
“I didn’t check.”
There hadn’t been time.
Woojin had only glanced roughly around the inside of the building before leaving. He couldn’t exactly browse through rooms like he was shopping in the middle of enemy territory.
“…Next time I’ll take a closer look.”
At that mutter, Arwen, who had been chewing her inner core, looked at him slightly flustered.
“Are you planning to do what we did today again?”
“I’m thinking of doing it a few more times. Is there something bothering you?”
“I’m worried it might be dangerous.”
If they repeated the same tactic over and over, the pattern might be discovered and turn against them.
Woojin answered casually,
“Even if they figure it out, they won’t be able to stop it.”
It was practically a prophecy. Proving it wasn’t difficult.
He slept during the day and raided the enemy camp at night, setting fires. He repeated this for six days, yet the enemy failed to respond properly.
As they watched the enemy camp descend into chaos once more, Woojin suddenly muttered,
“In my hometown, there was a saying—‘three strikes and you’re out.’”
“What does that mean?”
After saying it, he realized it would be hard to explain. To people here, the phrase would feel too foreign.
He waved it off vaguely.
“It’s just something you say at times like this.”
“I see.”
Arwen continued,
“Is there a reason you keep striking the same place? It feels a bit inefficient…”
She spoke cautiously, as if worried the question might offend him.
In truth, she was right.
Continuing sabotage in the same place was inefficient. There were hardly any buildings left worth burning, and the enemy’s defenses were steadily tightening.
“The beasts are desperate to kill us.”
Enemy forces that had been spread evenly across the defensive line were beginning to gather in this region.
Compared to when Woojin first played with fire, their numbers had nearly tripled. There were more patrols too, making stealth infiltration much harder than before.
“Since troops are concentrating here, doesn’t that mean other areas are thinning out? Wouldn’t it be better to move and strike somewhere with fewer forces?”
A perfectly reasonable suggestion.
But there was something Woojin needed to tell her.
“Tonight’s the last time we’re playing with fire.”
“Oh… really?”
Arwen murmured softly, her tone tinged with faint disappointment.
“They say a late-blooming thief is the scariest. Looks like she’s gotten a taste for arson.”
Still, continuing this would be a waste of time. Woojin had already achieved his objective.
“Tomorrow, you’ll see quite a spectacle.”
“What are you going to do?”
“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you in advance.”
As always, she would see it with her own eyes.
When someone in charge dies, someone else must fill the vacancy.
“…There isn’t a single thing I like about this.”
A sheep seated in a chair muttered to himself. His name was Leonard. A member of the noble Probato and recently elevated to the rank of viscount.
The ram found this situation thoroughly displeasing.
It was bad enough being sent to this remote region. He had only just learned that his predecessor had been assassinated.
Because of that, the pig chamberlain had to constantly watch Leonard’s mood.
“Baa—put more care into brushing! Slathering on oil doesn’t automatically make it better!”
“Y-Yes, my lord.”
The pig carefully brushed Leonard’s hair, grooming the curly white wool neatly. It was the pride of the Probato.
Inside, the pig cursed.
“Damn it… no matter how much I brush, there’s no difference.”
The wool was so thick and curly that no matter how much he pressed it down, it sprang back to its original shape. A completely meaningless task.
But he had no choice but to obey. The Probato were the only race capable of hearing the king’s voice.
Crunch, grind—
The ram suddenly worked his jaw as if chewing cud. The sound was enough to make one’s hair stand on end.
“At this rate, I’m going to die.”
The sharp-eyed pig sensed danger. He had to somehow appease the noble.
“My… my lord Viscount?”
“…What is it.”
“If it is not too presumptuous, may I serve some red wine? Sniff—two days ago, an acquaintance sent me a fine bottle.”
Leonard merely tilted his head in silent approval. The pig turned to the attendant standing by the door.
“Sniff—go down to the cellar and bring the wine.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chicken attendant hurried out the door.
Before long, the sound of bustling footsteps echoed back. The door opened, and the attendant set down a large wooden basin on the floor.
Then someone bound with rope was dragged inside.
A young boy.
With a gag in his mouth, the terrified child looked around in panic.
Leonard spoke.
“How many years aged is this wine?”
“Sniff—nine years this year. A human.”
“Nicely matured.”
The ram muttered in satisfaction, and the pig chamberlain signaled toward the boy.
“Uncork it.”
“Yes.”
The chicken attendant drew a dagger. At the same time, the other attendants seized the boy to keep him from moving.
“Mmph! Mm—!”
The boy struggled, having realized what was about to happen. But it was meaningless.
Thud.
The blade plunged deep into the boy’s throat.
Blood poured out without pause. The blood of the slaughtered human filled the basin.
The pig chamberlain held an elegant glass to the boy’s neck and offered that fresh, crimson wine to his noble.
Leonard took a sip.
Then, apparently impressed by the taste, he pursed his lips.
“…Good. Where did you obtain something like this?”
“From the Fourth Farm. Sniff—they say he was fed plenty of wild plums.”
“That explains the clean finish.”
The ram smiled in satisfaction. Only then did the pig chamberlain relax.
“Sniff—we will prepare the meat properly and serve it at tonight’s banquet.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a proper meal.”
As Leonard swirled the wine in his glass, he suddenly seemed to recall something.
“By the way, have the reinforcements arrived safely?”
“Yes. They arrived at dawn yesterday and have set up their tents. I instructed them to establish a strict defensive perimeter so the enemy cannot approach.”
To prevent the repeated night raids, they had requested assistance from nearby regions and received additional troops.
Four hundred chicken-type monsters, Cota.
Two hundred bull-type monsters, Tauros.
Six hundred reinforcements had arrived at dawn yesterday. Combined with the warriors already stationed at this defensive wall, the total force now numbered nine hundred.
With so many troops watching the surroundings with eyes wide open, no matter how skilled an infiltrator might be, targeting Leonard’s neck should have been impossible.
“As proof, there was another night raid yesterday, but the damage wasn’t significant.”
“Indeed… that’s true.”
Several watchtowers near the palisade had collapsed, and a number of barracks tents had burned, but it was damage that could be repaired quickly.
“Supply lines are stable as well. We should be able to hold out without major difficulty.”
Concluding there was no need to worry, Leonard took another pleased drink of wine.
Rumble.
“…What was that just now?”
“Pardon? A sound?”
The pig chamberlain asked back. Leonard glanced around. The other attendants blinked, equally puzzled.
The ram tilted his head.
“Did I mishear?”
He had thought he heard something strange, but perhaps it was just his imagination. Just as he was about to dismiss it—
KRAAASH!
Thunder roared.
A chill ran down his spine.
Leonard rose from his seat and stepped outside the manor.
The beasts standing guard outside were staring up at the sky as if startled by something. The ram joined them and lifted his head.
Dark clouds blanketed the sky.
Black storm clouds churned silently like a brewing tempest.
Crackle—crack—
Lightning flickered here and there. It briefly revealed itself before plunging back into the black clouds, moving in and out, releasing peals of thunder over and over.
Each time, the lightning seemed to grow stronger.
It thickened.
Its color deepened.
Red lightning.
Seeing it, Leonard suddenly understood.
“…So that’s why he lured the troops together.”
For days, the night raids had continued.
To counter them, the ram had called for reinforcements, gathering forces from surrounding regions into one place.
The enemy had intended this from the beginning.
“To wipe us out all at once.”
KRAAASH!
Thunder exploded again.
The entire world turned crimson.
The terrified ram muttered like a madman.
“R-run…”
The command never reached his subordinates.
CRAAAAAAAAAASH!!
The firestorm devoured everything.