An acutely dark presence is approaching. It’s an indescribable feeling. If I must say it―― it’s as if darkness itself is closing in on us. For an undead like me, who’s exempted from the rules of death, that presence is something I’m very familiar with, but I think that the Order of Death Knights and the mercenaries, who confront this with living flesh are really amazing.
I escaped from the basement. Although they’re not visible yet, there are an unbelievable number of the undead surrounding the old castle.
To start with, Necromancers are good at suppressing with numbers. If there’s no mage who can launch wide range attacks, the difference in numbers can determine the tendency of the battle. And, that’s the reason why the Order of Death Knights, who can annihilate the undead on a wide scope, are considered their natural enemy.
I left Mister Lazar’s group in the basement. The difference in numbers can be somewhat mitigated inside the narrow underground passage. It’s pretty doubtful whether I can finish things without letting a single undead slip by, but their chances of survival aren’t that low. I thought for a while and decided to check the difference in our military strength. The undead neither run nor hide and since I’m the same kind as them, it’s not hard to read their presence, but when there are so many of them here, as expected, the processing ability of my brain can’t catch up. In that case, it’s better to act flashy and let them attack first. “That’s a dangerous plan.” Senri says with a rebuking expression, but this is not a plan for a human with limited stamina. And, this is the safest. It’ll be perfect if I leave Senri to guard the basement.
The undead are strengthened by gathering death energy. It’s only a tiny amount compared to the power vampires get by ‘Feeding’, but it’s better than nothing. There’s no meaning in actively hunting them because the amount of energy the undead release after their second death is insignificant compared to the living beings, but with so many of them here, they should be able to fill my stomach to some extent.
I confess to Senri before heading into the battle.
“Every drop of your blood is mine, Senri. I won’t give it to them.”
“… I see.”
I thought she’d be moved, but Senri’s reaction is extremely lukewarm. However, judging from her smell, she doesn’t seem to hate me, so I should retreat now. I know. Men, who keep pushing without thinking about the other person, are hated. It was written in a book.
I go outside alone and jump along the castle wall to the center of the castle ―― on the crumbling spire, with Blood Ruler in hand. Cold wind strokes my skin and the moonlight is giving me power.
I can see the dead crowding in the darkness even through my sunglasses. What a quantity. They’re truly worthy of being called an ‘army’.
But I’m not afraid. I only feel excitement. The mafia was weak. It’s the first time since Rainel that I’m fighting so many monsters. The dead deployed around the old castle surpass the ones Lord Horus controlled at least in numbers. It arouses my fighting instincts as a Lesser Vampire. I have no hatred for them, but I can kill as many of them as I want.
I feel countless eyes on me. I’m being watched. The hatred and killing intent is bringing me a tingling good sensation.
――And, without any signal, the dead all rush into the castle at once.
☠
Senri has given me a lot of information until now. Including how to fight, common sense, the tricks of Necromancers, and the basics of the battle against the undead.
The first thing I checked was whether they had realized my true identity.
What you need in a fight against a vampire is how to use their weakness. Keeper I fought once is a good model for that. I’m strong. I’m still a lower rank, but I have enough power to somehow corner the Demon King and because of the regular act of feeding, my power right now is stronger than it was before.
If they realize that I’m an undead belonging to the vampire class, they will undoubtedly bring abominable crosses and garlic (silver weapons and the blessed holy water will also have a strong effect on them as they’re also the undead so I think they won’t use those).
I observed the undead that were surging forward for a while and confirmed that they were using the brute force approach. The decayed castle wall no longer maintained its form as the castle wall, but it was spectacular to see countless Skeletons climb it in a straight line aiming for me. Of course, they were also rushing in from the open gates too.
“Amazing… so something like that’s possible too.”
Skeletons were riding on top of each other―― Looks like a body without any skin or flesh is very convenient for coordinated group gymnastics.
But, it’s sheer stupidity to challenge somebody like me, who doesn’t feel any fatigue or exhaustion and has high regeneration ability, with numbers. Even Rainel’s mighty army could hardly match up to me, so there’s no way Skeletons could be worth anything regardless of how many of them were gathered.
I got bored of observing, so I quickly slid down the half-destroyed roof of the spire. I jumped into the swarm of bones, possibly numbering over several hundreds, who were running towards me.
Skeletons really were just skeletons. I’ve heard that the capabilities of the Skeletons reflected their talents from when they were alive, but these guys were probably the bones of ordinary people. Their combat skills were far inferior even to the Skeletons that were protecting the Lord’s mansion, but at least they had advantage in numbers.
The Skeletons only had a single crude sword and weren’t even wearing armors. I even felt some pity for the sloppy way they were treated.
With a single swing of a hatchet, I blew away several Skeletons. The bones that had been hardened with magic are meaningless in front of the physical strength of a Lesser Vampire. Just like that, without running out of breath (though not breathing wouldn’t affect my actions at all), I destroyed the tower of Skeletons.
The bulky wreckage of Skeletons and their crude swords, collide with the stone pavement, making a loud sound. It doesn’t seem like the swords of hundreds of skeletons would even graze me.
Anyway, just how many Skeletons did they prepare? What are they, Skeleton enthusiasts?
The moment I frowned at the fact that their numbers didn’t decrease no matter how many Skeletons I cut down and yet they didn’t prove to be of any challenge, my keen vampire hearing caught a sharp wind noise.
I rotated my body and avoided the thing that came flying at me.
It was an arrow. An iron arrow. It miraculously avoided the horde of Skeletons and pierced the stone floor.
On top of the castle walls, beyond the dead that were still single-mindedly rushing in, I could see the figure of the Skeleton that was wearing splendid armor. It was carrying a bow that was as big as its body and its bones were as black as night.
I’ll call it Black Bone Archer. There were Skeletons equipped with a slightly inferior bow and armor around it in the same way.
Black Bone Archer shot arrows in quick succession. The flying black arrows slipped through the many gaps between the Skeletons, sometimes crushing them, and headed straight towards me. It was an obviously isolated ability. The surrounding Skeletons also shot the arrow, as if to match it. The arrows came pouring almost like rain.
I see. So this is their favorite.
I realized something a bit too late and clicked my tongue.
I wasn’t the only one observing the situation. They were also investigating something. What were they investigating?
Well, of course―― my identity.
To say even more, they were probably dispatched under the assumption that they would be destroyed, in order to make sure that I wasn’t a Death Knight.
Death Knights are the apostles of light. If I was a Death Knight, I couldn’t be dealt with by ordinary means and even if they maintained their distance, they could’ve been purified from afar. And, after looking at the way I fight, they were convinced that I’m not a Death Knight. Thus they dispatched their favorite.
I’ve sure been underestimated.
I accurately cleared away the only arrow that was released by Black Bone Archer, the powerful arrow that was hard to see, out of the downpour of arrows. The arrows released by other archers were slow and not very powerful.
