Chapter 355

Chapter 355

In the game, hero characters interact with each other, building affinity.

The relationship dynamics reflected occupational characteristics, with healers gaining allies' favor the quickest, of course.

After all, they healed their allies' wounds.

Then came the tanks.

As they took the brunt of the enemy's attacks and sacrificed themselves, it was inevitable for other heroes to grow fond of tanks.

That's why in the game, after healers, tanks were the second most favored profession.

They usually maintained good relationships with other hero characters.

However, the Leprosy Extermination Squad was different.

Their negative trait, 'Leprosy', affected their combat performance, but it impacted their interpersonal relationships even more.

No matter how hard they tanked and protected allies with their bodies, it was nearly impossible for them to form friendly relations.

But as a player, I didn't care.

Performance was the priority in the game, so I utilized the Leprosy Extermination Squad without much concern.

But now that the game has become reality, I am beginning to realize the fatal disadvantage of 'Leprosy.'

Despite leading the charge in all battles over the past ten days and fighting valiantly, even at the temple where they came for healing, they were shunned by their allies.

Despite the injuries taken in place of those very allies.

"Thank you for caring for someone like me, Your Highness, and Your Grace."

Torquel murmured stubbornly at the back of the line in the temple, insisting on being the last to receive treatment.

"But out of momentary pity, please don't get too close... The curse is contagious."

"A curse..."

"Yes, a curse. How greatly must I have offended the goddess to live like this."

I swallowed the words of comfort I was about to offer Torquel.

A man who has suffered this disease and pain all his life.

My clumsy consolation might just reopen old wounds.

"Without fully atoning for my sins, I sought to be reborn, so the goddess rightly punished me."

Bleeding profusely from his injuries, Torquel murmured numbly.

"We are cursed to be born into this world..."

That's when it happened.

"Excuse me for interrupting your conversation."

With the sound of a medical cart being pulled, a tired-looking healer approached us.

"The goddess is not so petty, you know?"

It was Saintess Margarita.

She approached us with a face wearied by overwork and grumbled irritably.

"Dragging sins from past lives to punish in this one... That's all just stories made up by people. Our goddess is not so narrow-minded."

"..."

Torquel stuttered, taken aback.

"Does the doctrine say that?"

"I'm saying there's not a single word about that in the doctrine. Do you think a deity has nothing better to do than to nurse grudges and meticulously plant diseases in people?"

Saintess Margarita, taking out bandages and medicine bottles from the cart, pointed her finger sharply at Torquel.

"And! I told you, those with serious injuries should be treated first. Mr. Torquel. Why do you always hide in the corner and wait to be treated last? If the wound worsens, it's more work for me. Don't you see I'm already busy?"

"...Because it's not a major injury."

"Not major? If someone else had these injuries, they'd be unconscious and carried away by now. What about that pool of blood under your feet? Our priests have to clean that up, you know?"

"..."

"Don't brag about being healthy, and make sure to come earlier next time for your turn. Understood?"

Torkel did not respond.

Saintess Margarita, with rough yet accurate motions, sprayed medicine on Torkel's wounds, wrapped them in bandages, and administered healing magic.

After treating his physical injuries, Margarita wiped the sweat from her forehead and gestured with her chin.

"Take off your helmet. It seems the inside is damaged too."

"..."

"Take off your helmet, will you?"

"I, well, the helmet... can't..."

When Torkel hesitated till the end, Margarita furrowed her brows fiercely.

"I'm busy! Take it off! Quickly!"

Dusk Bringar and I watched this scene, hugging each other and trembling like aspen trees.

The god of healing is frightening...

"..."

Hesitating, Torkel slowly lifted his hands and removed his helmet.

From where Dusk Bringar and I stood, we could only see the back of his head, but the gruesomely swollen and discolored skin was clearly visible.

With a deeply furrowed brow, Margarita treated the wounds on his crown and behind his ears.

As the treatment was almost finished, Torkel asked in a low voice.

"It's horrible, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

"..."

"Granting me a mere 50,000 while claiming to provide an 'unprecedentedly large legion.The King of Kings thinks too little of me."

To the Demon King, goblins were just goblins, after all.

To him, 50,000 might seem a lot for a 'mere Goblin God-King' to command.

"When he calls my name without 'Kali-', he underestimates my capabilities as a commander..."

Kali-Alexander sighed lightly.

"It seems the King of King greatly underestimates the capabilities of my legion."

Yet, still, I serve.

That devil gave a second chance, and that is an undeniable fact.

'How shall I use these 50,000 lives...?'

Unlike other monster legions, where each is an elite, the Goblin Legion is a horde that overwhelms with numbers.

The lives of the legion's members are their bullets, their spear tips. The strength of the Goblin Legion comes from how freely they sacrifice their lives.

It might be enough to break through the defenses guarded by the Protector of Humanity.

But Kali-Alexander's goal was more than merely breaching defenses.

'Not enough to conquer the world.'

An ambition unfulfilled by his race.

To resume the conquest halted in the western lands.

As the leader of the goblin race, that was Kali-Alexander's purpose.

From the start, the monster front guarded by Ash was just an obstacle to overcome, certainly not the ultimate goal.

'After breaking through the defense line, I'll move north, rallying the greenskins remaining in humanity's lands... By the time we reach the northern edge of the world, I should be able to restore the former might of my legion.'

Like an invasion force.

Kali-Alexander resolved to handle logistics and troop reinforcements on the spot, as was fitting for an invader.

To cross the barrier protected by the Guardian of this age... Kali-Alexander began to detail the organization of his 50,000 soldiers for an efficient invasion.

That's when it happened.

Boom!

The main gate of the stadium burst into pieces, scattering debris in all directions.

The goblin honor guard, startled, pointed their spears toward the commotion, and Kali-Alexander looked up in bewilderment.

"Grrr. Grrrrr."

The sound of a sinister laugh heralded the arrival of a massive creature with green skin.

A muscular orc clad in spiky armor, wielding a huge pillar as a weapon on his back.

He was the Orc Emperor, 'Wrathmonger' Daimark.

In his hands, he held the heads of the goblin honor guard that had been guarding the entrance to the stronghold.

Crack!

As Daimark squeezed, the two goblins let out agonized screams before their heads shattered to pieces.

The Orc Emperor laughed cruelly and tossed the corpses aside, smearing the blood on his lips.

Kali-Alexander asked calmly.

"What brings you here, Daimark? Weren't you tasked with stopping 'Nameless'?"

"Grrrk... Kali-Alexander. Can't you see?"

Rumble...!

Through the open gate, a legion of orcs poured in. Each warrior was several times larger than the goblins.

In an instant, Kali-Alexander and his honor guard were surrounded. The Orc Emperor grinned, baring his tusks.

"This is rebellion, you weakling God-King!"

"...I have been granted command of this age's invasion by the King of Kings. Lay hands on me, and the King of Kings will not forgive you."

"Grrrr! Ignorant words. The King of Kings has always turned a blind eye to us killing each other!"

Thud!

Daimark swung the huge pillar he had carried on his back, slamming it down onto the ground. Then, the Orc Emperor bellowed fiercely.

"I will kill you here and become the ruler of the Greenskin! And I will lead this age's invasion!"

"..."

"Goblins are the mold of the world. You're the trash born from the leftovers when the gods shaped us orcs! You have no warriors, no war songs, no festivals, no honor! Just numbers pushing forward, burning the world like barbarians!"

Hearing orcs calling them barbarians was ironic, but it was true.

The goblins had nothing.

Even if the God-King had them dress in the old human kingdom style and bear weapons, most goblins didn't understand the significance of these actions. They simply followed orders.

They were a barbaric tribe without even the culture of orcs.

That was the nature of goblins. If their God-King disappeared, they would revert to a state worse than the Stone Age, which indeed they did.

"Today I will kill you and correct the hierarchy between orc and goblin."

Daimark roared and charged forward.

"Goblins! Being born is your sin! Now, as this age falls into ruin and through the eons, serve us orcs as slaves!"

"Being born is a sin, huh..."

Rising from his seat, Kali-Alexander drew his scimitar from his waist.

"I've heard that often enough."

The Goblin God-King muttered cynically.

"...It's just that I never wanted to be born at all."

The Goblin God-King's blade clashed with the Orc Emperor's pillar.

And so began the civil war among the Greenskin.