Swordmaster of the Great Wall

Erich had always prided himself on having experienced all the surprises life could throw at him.

Starting with the countless millions of undead armies marching forward, all the way to the Lord of the Dead wielding godlike powers.

Yet, even Erich himself, at this very moment, could only squint his eyes and bite his lip.

'... What on earth is this?'

After entering the Angar Gorge.

Erich, Frederick, and Barnes, who had departed from the 6th Fortress—along with Gustav and a thousand members—had no choice but to halt, stunned at the scene before their eyes.

—Grrrr.

Not only were countless dead groaning on the ground, most of them were lying motionless, their heads severed. It was as if they'd just suffered a crushing defeat in a massive battle. Erich shot a glance at Gustav.

"Gustav, have any idea what's going on?"

"... How would I know? Who the hell fought these bastards?"

At the very least, Erich could tell Gustav wasn't lying. Unless the man was an incredible actor.

Even most of the fortress members were casting similar looks. Then, Erich stuck his sword into the skull of one of the dead whose neck was only half-severed and dangling.

—Crack!

"This doesn't match the stories I've heard. Weren't Franz and the other deserters supposed to have already become monsters who crave nothing but blood and flesh?"

"That's right. Why else do you think we dumped them in a place like this? Even if they send them off while they still have a shred of reason, Angar Gorge isn't somewhere you can just walk out of on your own."

Erich's gaze turned to the entrance of the gorge. Indeed, with its sheer cliffs and paths so precarious you might slip at any moment, it did not look like a place where an irrational dead could escape unassisted.

Soon after, Barnes, who had gone to track the traces in the area, returned with the members. He pointed to the right side of Angar Gorge.

"Lord Erich, it seems the dead probably couldn't penetrate the gorge and turned right instead."

"... Is that so?"

Judging by the circumstances, it seemed Franz and the deserters had clashed here with Joseph and the dead.

From the signs in front of them, Joseph had slipped off to the right to regroup his forces.

It was strange enough that the dead could fight in such an organized manner. It was also odd, given the severed wounds on the fallen dead, that they seemed capable of wielding weapons.

'The dead took up weapons, huh. Things really are getting absurd.'

How, exactly, is Joseph—still human—managing to control hordes of the dead?

And if Franz fought him, retaining some sanity, what does that mean? That he could resist Joseph's control and fight back? Wasn't he supposed to be completely transformed into one of the dead?

Either way, both cases directly contradicted Erich's experiences before regression.

Frederick, having finished disposing of the dead, pressed Erich for a decision.

"... Boss, what now? That fake? Should we deal with the dead first, or the actual dead first?"

Erich's brow twitched. Soon, however, he reached a conclusion and spoke.

"We're entering Angar Gorge for now."

"We might end up just like them, you know? And what if those monsters attack from behind...?"

"I have several reasons. First, it seems Franz retained his sanity. He might be able to help us fight Joseph."

"... He'll be thrilled if he finds out we came here just to take his head."

"We'll have to take down both of them anyway. The only question is who goes first. The priorities can be set."

Frederick and Barnes nodded, but Gustav's expression was grim. The other members who overheard seemed the same. Noticing this, Erich spoke up.

"Looks like none of you are keen on seeing Franz's face."

"... Well, who would be in this position?"

Erich nodded slowly. Having to turn against a comrade like Franz would naturally fill them with guilt.

Erich turned his gaze slowly toward Angar Gorge. Sheer cliffs like they'd been cut straight down.

Jagged rocks jutting up. A narrow path barely wide enough for a single person. All these elements combined to produce a treacherous landscape.

Could he really bring a thousand members through such a place? No matter how he considered it, it was impossible. So Erich decided to split the force.

Erich, Frederick, Barnes, and Gustav would take one hundred members inward. The rest would stay behind.

Once the splitting was done, Erich's party began moving toward Angar Gorge. To meet Franz and his deserters.

***

—Crraaaash!

"Ugh!"

Frederick glared with a pale face at the rock tumbling from his feet. Truly, for a stone to fall all the way to the bottom—

—Clack!

—it took a little over a second. Not to mention the thorn-like rocks. If you fell, you wouldn't just lose your body—the only thing left for you would be a prayer for your soul. Erich turned back and shouted,

"Be careful! If you cross slowly and don't rush, it's not so hard!"

But the members' faces had turned pale. Easier said than done—how could you cross this path with a clear mind? Most were trembling in fear.

Frederick, though a veteran, was no exception. He shut his eyes tightly, groped forward—

—Thud.

—and bumped his face into Erich's back. Frederick clutched his nose and grumbled,

"Hey! Aren't you going a bit too slow?"

"If you walk with your eyes shut, you're more likely to fall! You've got guts. Anyway, open your eyes, Frederick. We've found the entrance."

"Entrance?"

With his red eyes gleaming, Erich allowed a faint smile and brushed aside the dust in front of him.

—Tap tap.

Now, a gap roughly blocked with stones was revealed. Erich sensed at once that this must lead to where the deserters had holed up. Having a passageway in a place like this was suspicious enough, but most importantly...

'There are faint fingerprints left behind.'

No matter how minute, nothing escaped Erich's keen eyes. He forcefully shoved the pile of stones aside, producing a grating sound as they slid away.

Frederick sucked in a breath and muttered,

"... Do you really see the future or something?"

Erich quirked his lips. To be precise, he couldn't see the future—he came from it. Though, that had nothing to do with this.

Erich led the members into the tunnel. Inside, there were torches, and from their state, it hadn't been long since they were set ablaze.

"Gustav, did you ever think they could possess this much intelligence?"

"... No way. The first deserters left here were practically like beasts. They chose this because there was no way out on their own two feet. Yet, this place..."

"Judging by how you talk, you didn't know about this spot, either."

"I didn't. In fact, there was never a tunnel here in the first place. Usually, you have to follow the main path to reach the end... This cave seems as if they built it themselves."

Gustav wore a look of disbelief. Those overtaken by the dead had enough willpower left to dig a tunnel and set up torches?

Erich himself wondered the same. The camaraderie of the 6th Fortress had always seemed unbreakable. For them to abandon a fellow meant things were truly desperate.

And yet, for them to retain enough reason to attempt this kind of engineering was odd indeed.

'... Maybe it's a trap.'

He hadn't discounted the idea. But, circumstantially, for Joseph—who seemed to be controlling the dead—to go to all this trouble seemed far too elaborate.

It would be much more efficient for him simply to turn them into death knights and unleash them on Erich.

In the end, the only way to find out what was happening was to reach the end of this tunnel.

But as they ventured further in—

—Fwoosh—Thunk!

Erich caught an arrow flying toward them. The arrowhead stopped just short of Frederick's eyes.

"... Oh, oh. Damn."

"Nearly lost your eye, Frederick, and gone from mutineer to one-eyed mutineer."

Erich grinned, but Frederick shot him a dark look.

"... Boss. Are you enjoying making fun of me right now?"

"Of course I am. It's always satisfying to tease a guy constantly looking for a chance to talk back."

Barnes, behind them, snickered at this.

Anyway, that aside—Erich studied the arrow that had been fired from a trap.

'The wood is moist. Meaning, it wasn't left sitting long in this dry tunnel.'

That meant the arrow was made recently. So, not only traps, but even fresh arrows?

The dead moved clumsily. None of the dead ever used bows—it wasn't just that they couldn't shoot, they lacked the finesse even to make arrows.

Which only raised Erich's estimation of Franz and the deserter-dead.

Maybe these men really had retained their human intelligence.

Erich snapped the arrow and used his eyes to scan ahead. Soon, he spotted traps set up throughout the passage.

"... Hmm."

Erich picked up a stone, and tossed a few ahead.

—Bang!

The stones flew with a cracking sound, striking the spots Erich had aimed for.

—Clank! Fwing!

With that, the traps exploded open. Thanks to him, the members could pass through safely. Gustav picked up a broken arrow.

"... How much does the Black Citadel know about the dead?"

"Why, did Richter put you up to asking?"

"No need to be so sharp. I'm just curious why you're so obsessed with the dead."

Why the obsession, indeed? Erich let out a wry smile. How could he not be obsessed? They were essentially the end of humanity.

They'd underestimated the danger the dead posed. Even Commander August, who was preparing for them, surely didn't grasp their real threat.

As he tossed stones to disable traps, Erich spoke:

"The scary thing about them is that they evolve. The ones you fought today come back tomorrow, stronger and greater in number. Worse, the ones who return tomorrow have the faces of people you know."

"... Well, we're kind of living that ourselves, but—have you ever actually fought the dead down south?"

"That's classified. But let me ask, why did you just trust Joseph? Did you use the dead to hold off the Barbarians?"

Gustav shook his head.

"Not at all. The dead are too unpredictable. Joseph controlled a few, but it was only experimental."

"A human controlling the dead, isn't that suspicious? And you just accepted it without question?"

"I suppose we didn't know as much as you do. But isn't it just another kind of magic? No need to be afraid—the mages drop fireballs, and that's nothing to worry about, right?"

Magic, huh. Erich mused silently. There was a time he'd thought that way. There just weren't many mages—magic was real, after all.

But Gustav overlooked one key point.

'There is no magic that truly violates the laws of nature.'

The dead were clearly corpses—and no magic had ever done such a thing before. Fınd the newest release on novel·fire·net

Erich, too, once mistook the dead for a type of evil sorcery. He and these men weren't so different, after all.

He threw a stone at the final trap and answered Gustav.

"All I'll tell you is this: never get entangled with the dead, no matter how. There's no hope there."

"... But hopelessness is more our concern."

"What do you mean?"

Gustav pointed beyond the passageway.

With the last trap cleared, they glimpsed an exit, rays of light streaming in.

Someone was standing there, staring at them. With white eyes glowing, someone keeping watch over the intruders.

Erich immediately recognized who it was. The deserter dead—the ones transformed into monsters while still alive—were there to block their way.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

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