The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 11, Chapter 9

Name:Valkyrie's Shadow Author:
The Tiger and the Dragon: Act 11, Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Rivulets of rain ran off of Ludmila’s cowl and mantle as she silently watched the assault on Rivergarden unfold from high above. Saiko floated beside her, uncaring of the water seeping through its black robes and over the bones beneath. The Elder Lich maintained Invisibility on itself in addition to its Fly spell, while Ludmila remained concealed through her own means.

“Captain, sixty-five per cent of our available Wights have been eliminated,” Saiko announced.

“Any sign of a runaway spawn effect?” Ludmila asked.

“None.”

As expected, the defenders are too strong.

Wights were one of the ‘species’ of Undead that propagated themselves. A Humanoid or Demihuman slain by a non-summoned Wight – in other words, a created or naturally spawned one – rose as a new Wight within thirty seconds. Unlike Ghouls and Ghasts, however, the newly-spawned Wights were subordinate to the ‘parent’ Wight as soon as they were raised. Those Wights could spawn more Wights who in turn were subordinate to them, and there appeared to be no limit.

They had roughly the same Difficulty Rating as a weak Silver-rank Adventurer, and, since Death Knights had a limit on the number of Squire Zombies they could raise, it raised a question that begged investigation: was it better to just have Wights instead of Zombies raised by Squire Zombies, considering they both consumed the same ‘resource’?

Early in the Draconic Kingdom campaign – during their first battle, in fact – they arrived at an answer, which was ‘it depends’.

Wights could indeed spawn more Wights ad nauseam, making them ideal for massed attacks against enemies of similar and weaker strength. Enough Wights generated in this manner could overwhelm cities and even countries if they had something to point them in the right direction.

In the past, Raul proposed a ‘Wight Bomb’, which basically involved fashioning a sufficiently powerful mass of Wights and sending it as a self-propagating attack against enemy formations. It didn’t work during league matches since Wights couldn’t make Wights out of summons, but it did work well against crowds of civilian Beastmen in the Draconic Kingdom.

The apprentice Commander’s elation over the success of his tactic was quickly tempered with what came afterwards, however. While Wights were subordinate to the Wight that spawned them, if that ‘commander’ died, they became independent and defaulted to the behaviours of wild, mindless Undead. In a situation where there were only enemies on the field, it worked splendidly, as Wights running amok would autonomously attack living targets, leaving the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Undead forces alone. However, the Royal Army’s operations in the Draconic Kingdom involved liberating the country’s Human population, so Wights presented an unacceptable risk.

The sole exception was during the latest two weeks of skirmishing with the warrior clans. Both sides had cleared the war zone of non-combatants, so the Royal Army took the opportunity to experiment further. Now, with their advance resuming, the Wights meant for another round of trials were being disposed of, depleting enemy stamina and resources along the way.

“How are test drops coming along?”

“Controllers have achieved roughly twenty per cent accuracy. The results would be improved if we conducted the drops from under the cloud cover.”

“It’s the cloud cover that’s keeping them guessing,” Ludmila told the Elder Lich. “I think it’s low enough that the Bone Vultures would get knocked out of the sky if they came out anyway. How far off target are the ‘misses’?”

“A dozen metres, at most.”

『Let’s mix some Ghouls into the drops. One in ten.』

According to Tira, who was reporting the situation within Rivergarden, the area behind the city’s western walls had been cleared to make room for reserve defenders. Even if the falling Undead missed, they would still land on or near the enemy. Regular Beastman Zombies had proven to be mostly useless against the warrior clans, but they were useful as two-hundred-kilogram dead weights. Teams of Bone Vultures worked together to drop them onto the walls in much the same fashion she had used them in half a year previous in the Katze Plains.

Ludmila watched as a falling Zombie squarely landed on one of the hoardings. She expected it to put a hole through the roof, but it simply struck the structure and rolled off.

“I wonder if I can find out who made those things after this,” she murmured.

“The craftsmanship does appear to be durable,” Saiko said. “Should we use heavier loads?”

“No, keep dropping Undead on the walls,” Ludmila said. “I want to see how the Beastmen shift their forces to compensate for the interference.”

Logically speaking, the enemy Commander would shuffle their forces around to let their most effective soldiers fight unhindered. At least according to Human logic. It didn’t even have to be the Commanders: soldiers striving to improve their side’s fighting chances would do so of their own accord.

“Captain, seventy-five per cent of our Wights have been eliminated,” Saiko announced.

『Ready our siege engine teams. Move thirty of them into range.』

Thirty Blood Meat Hulks ambled forward, followed by herds of Undead livestock. Shouts of alarm rose from the walls below.

“Was that five hundred metres?”

“According to the sergeants,” Saiko said, “it appears to be the case.”

“There must be some strong Rangers down there. Have the sergeants keep track of which positions are attacking which Undead.”

Unless some unknown item or spell was being employed, a Beastman Ranger that could see five hundred metres away on a starless night was probably somewhere around Difficulty Rating Seventy-Five if they focused heavily on Ranger activities. One couldn’t be exact due to how their Racial Class Levels might interfere or interact with their Job Class Builds.

“Regeneration has been disabled on ninety per cent of the advancing Blood Meat Hulks,” Saiko told her.

“So much for that advantage,” she muttered.

When she employed Blood Meat Hulks for the Sorcerer King’s ‘game’ in the Katze Plains, their regeneration was near-miraculous in its utility. Once she went to work as a liaison officer in the Empire, however, she found that every company in the Imperial Army had multiple warriors who could simply disable regeneration with Martial Arts.

Since the Beastmen figured out how to counter the Blood Meat Hulks’ regeneration in their very first battle, dealing with otherwise problematic abilities was probably common knowledge in most of the world. They didn’t even need to expend resources on Alchemist’s Fire, vials of acid, or holy water.

『Death Priests, keep those Blood Meat Hulks alive. You should be able to stay out of sight by hiding behind them.』

“Our ‘siege engines’ are in position, Captain,” Saiko said. “Several of them are taking significant damage.”

“Are the attacks coming from the hoardings?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Ludmila smiled.

With the Undead falling out of the sky, the defenders naturally moved their strongest Rangers under cover so they could operate without interference.

『Siege engine teams: destroy the hoardings.』

She watched as one of the Blood Meat Hulks fetched a cow. It hurled the Undead Beast at the wall with a ponderous movement. In a silly corner of her mind, she imagined the Undead cow mooing as it arced through the air. The six-hundred-kilogram mass crashed into a group of warriors, knocking them off of the wall and into the city.

“Oof,” Ludmila winced. “Was that on purpose?”

“Your instructions were to target the hoardings.”

“Right.”

The inaccuracy of the Blood Meat Hulks seemed to serve in their favour, as the defenders appeared indecisive as they tried to figure out what the new attacks were and what they were being directed at. A few minutes and several dozen Zombie Beasts later, all of the hoardings on Rivergarden’s western wall were destroyed. The initial impacts and the Undead waiting below probably weren’t enough to kill strong Rangers, but being dumped out into the field effectively stopped them from serving in their intended role.

『Siege engine teams: keep suppressing the walls. Main force: begin your advance.』

Far in the back, the infantry squadrons, along with thousands of Skeleton Warriors, marched forward. With the Beastmen’s sharpest eyes put out, they would be able to close on the walls with minimal trouble.

『Raven Princess, this is Chiyome.』

Ludmila raised a hand to her ear.

『What do you have for me?』

『This isn’t what you asked me for, but I thought you should know anyway. The Beastmen are withdrawing from the city.』

『That sounds like what I was asking for.』

『They’re not panicking, though. It’s an orderly withdrawal. They’re even trying to save the Humans.』

『I see...』

『Want me to do something about it?』

『No, I have to figure this one out. Continue observing the city, Chiyome.』

『Yuh-huh.』

She lowered her hand. Saiko looked at her expectantly.

“That was Tira. The Beastmen are maintaining discipline while executing an orderly withdrawal.”

“Shall I order the sergeants to proceed to the next phase?”

“No, our conditions haven’t been met. They’re trying to bring the citizens with them, too.”

Ludmila scanned the city, trying to figure out how to salvage the situation.

I need to break them, but how? The warrior clans are too resilient for weak Undead, and I don’t want to bring the stronger ones into play yet.

A rousing cheer drew her attention back to the wall. She furrowed her brow at the sight of a warband valiantly fighting its way out of the remaining Wights.

That’s the opposite of what I need...

Hope was anathema to despair. She needed to extinguish its flame and stamp out the embers. Her eyes went to the collection of mystics supporting the warband atop the wall.

How convenient.

『Spent Wight controllers: target the casters on the northwestern wall. Simultaneous maximised Fireball. Go in with Invisibility.』

Ludmila eyed the Squire’s surcoat. Why was he so excited, anyway? Maybe he had chosen the wrong god to follow. According to Alessia, the Surshana sect of the Faith of the Six was renowned for having both the greatest paragons of the faith and its ‘biggest weirdos’.

Not that she had anything against anyone who would welcome the Undead. But it was weird in context.

“I will not presume to speak on behalf of the god of death,” Ludmila told them. “That aside, we do not come from the Theocracy. I am Ludmila Zahradnik: a Captain of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Royal Army.”

The Acolyte and the Squire exchanged looks.

“I’ve never heard of the Sorcerous Kingdom before,” the Acolyte said. “Are you from the Koshey? You look and sound southern. Your name’s southern, too.”

“I get that a lot around here,” Ludmila said, “but no. The Sorcerous Kingdom’s lands are to the northwest. After the latest skirmish between the Baharuth Empire and the Kingdom of Re-Estize, the Duchy of E-Rantel was annexed.”

Her statement was met with blank looks.

“...so this Sorcerous Kingdom’s some place put between Baharuth and Re-Estize?” The Squire frowned, “Like, uh...”

“A client state,” the Acolyte filled in helpfully.

“Right. That. Who do they belong to? Re-Estize?”

“Why would Re-Estize turn part of its land into another kingdom?” The Acolyte said, “The Empire probably won and did it.”

“The Sorcerous Kingdom is an independent state,” Ludmila said. “In fact, the Baharuth Empire is a client state of the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“Huh? But how? It’s just a country with a single duchy, right? One city. And how is it a kingdom? Where’d your king come from?”

In a newly-founded polity, the person with the most powerful army usually also ended up in charge, but the Sorcerer King wasn’t anything like that.

“It was an ancient claim that was successfully pursued,” Ludmila said. “As for how, I’m certain that you didn’t miss what just came stomping through here. We just recently sorted out our domestic affairs and have been working to establish diplomatic ties with our closest neighbours. We were shocked to find that the Draconic Kingdom looked more like a Beastman Kingdom when we turned our eyes in your direction.”

“In that case,” the Acolyte said, “what happened to the Theocracy? E-Rantel is just north of it, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Ludmila nodded. “As far as we know, the Theocracy is still there. They even sent some temple staff to help out in our southern territories. No one seems to know why they never came to assist the Draconic Kingdom, though their ongoing war with the Elves in Evasha may be tying up more personnel and resources than anyone expected.”

The two youths looked down at the steps to the vestibule, expressions conflicted. Going by how the other Temples of the Six were being treated, she couldn’t imagine that they would fare any better.

“Is there a more senior member of the temple staff present?” She asked.

“No,” the Acolyte shook his head. “We’re all that’s left.”

“I see. Well, please do your best to assist the people during the move. Don’t let their attitudes toward you interfere with your service to the people.”

“O-of course,” the two straightened to their full heights. “We’ll do what we can. Hopefully, the cathedral in Oriculon can figure out what to do after.”

“Will it be safe until dawn?” The Squire asked, placing a hand where his sidearm should have been.

“The Undead will be consuming the citizens for a few hours,” Ludmila said, “so no Beastman will be able to get close.”

Their faces paled at her words.

Oh, that’s what I wanted.

Something inside her stirred at their reaction. A primal sensation that she had felt many times before.

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, “everyone has the same rough expectations of the Undead, yes? We’re just playing to those expectations. No one will actually be eaten.”

Ludmila patted the Squire roughly on the shoulder before going on her way.

“M-may the blessings of the gods be upon you!” The Acolyte called after her.

Blessings, indeed.

She raised her hand, waving casually as she went. Through the two youths, she had already been granted a crucial hint as to what she required. If the Theocracy always counterattacked with the same, extreme prejudice as displayed by her forces, then continuing along that vein would never achieve what she wanted. She would have to do better.

When Ludmila reached the Temple of the Four a few dozen metres further along, she flew up to the bell tower. Tira appeared in her vision partway up, her legs dangling over the edge as she munched on a sandwich.

“Yo, boss,” the Ninja said between bites.

“Thanks for letting me know about that Skill activation.”

“I didn’t know you didn’t know. Just thought you would want to know about the other thing.”

“Still, thanks. By the way, as an Assassin, have you ever had to manipulate your targets and their escorts into making mistakes?”

“Plenty. Ah...was that what you were doing just now?”

Ludmila sat down beside Tira, leaning against the bricks of the tower.

“Yes. I was trying to instil a persistent sense of terror.”

“In that case,” the Ninja told her, “you messed up.”

“I thought so,” Ludmila sighed.

“It’s weird, though – you seemed to have a good handle on it before. Mmh...when I’m going after a target, there are two kinds of terror. The first, let’s call it ‘shock’. You spring an ambush or pop out of the shadows and do something so big that your target and everyone around them just freeze. Can’t keep ‘em like that forever, though. The second kind is for the long game. Making people look over their shoulders and imagine things that aren’t there. Makes ‘em screw up more and more and openings start appearing for an Assassin to slip through and make the hit or slowly dismantle the target’s defences.”

“The latter was more what I was going for,” Ludmila said. “I’d like to keep the entire front in a state like that for the remainder of the campaign.”

Tira looked up at the dark skies, furrowing her brow and pursing her lips.

“That’s, uh, pretty ambitious,” the Ninja said after a moment. “Crazy, even. I’ve gotten jobs to off imperial officers before, and their bodyguards simply won’t crack. Every Beastman warband out here is like a stronger, tougher version of a company in the Imperial Army and you’re saying you’re trying to do all of ‘em? I don’t know if there’s anything I can say that would help.”

“Having someone to speak with is helpful on its own,” Ludmila said. “Especially one who is familiar with the subject. The forces here should be on the move soon. You should get going as well.”

Ludmila reached into her Infinite Haversack and produced a half-dozen Message scrolls. She placed them into Tira’s open hand.

“The next town, huh...” the Ninja said as she put the scrolls away.

“We’re not even sure if they’ll stop to defend it, but yes. If they don’t, try to get ahead of them and see where they’re setting up their next defensive position.”

With a gesture of her fingers, Tira merged into the shadows. Ludmila activated her hairpin and flew up to rejoin Saiko. The Elder Lich had a hand to its ear, so she silently waited, scanning the landscape below.

It’s weird, though – you seemed to have a good handle on it before.

What was the difference between now and their operation in the west? Was it because they were civilians? Or already in a posture of flight? Lady Shalltear called her a ‘mistress of fear’, yet, now when she was actively trying to promote it, her efforts were falling flat.

How could a façade be more effective than a genuine effort? It was a conundrum that she would have to puzzle out.

“Captain,” Saiko lowered its hand. “Our report has been submitted.”

“Did the general staff have anything to say?”

“They are still reviewing the results in depth, but our orders were carried out to their satisfaction.”

“What are our new orders?”

“Due to the difficult terrain created by the current weather conditions,” Saiko said, “our wings are advancing at a much slower pace than anticipated.”

“How much slower?”

“Fifty per cent.”

“...that’s a lot.”

“Indeed. Our orders are to resume our advance while maintaining our position relative to the rest of the front.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Ludmila looked down at the harbour. “What’s the status of our transports?”

“They will arrive within the hour, Captain.”

She pulled out her pocket watch. It was four in the morning. Daylight would make instilling a sense of fear into the Beastmen that much more difficult.

“Organise our forces for the advance,” Ludmila said. “Once they’re ready, head out at half the originally-planned pace. I’ll catch up with you once I finish helping out with the evacuation.”

“Understood.”

Saiko flew down toward their assembled forces. Ludmila descended south to Rivergarden’s harbour. On the way, she looked east, her gaze tracing over the mass of Beastmen fleeing up the highway along the Oriculon.

She couldn’t create the ‘atrocity’ that she sought on the first try, but she had ample opportunity to figure it out.