Chapter 61: Nevirthol – (1)
(I)
“Grandius, what do we do? Seriously, she’s really here. She’s actually here!!”
“Calm down, Prime Minister.”
On the lofty first wall of Nevirthol, Lilianel Greenfield, on the verge of tears, clung to Hero Vellius Grandius, who did his best to soothe her.
However, Lilianel’s racing heart did not settle easily. She pointed beyond the walls with trembling hands, mumbling incoherently.
“Elzerba… that crazy woman actually came all the way here. What do we do now? Should we run? Where?”
“…Please, calm yourself, Lilianel.”
“…!!”
Grandius gently stroked Lilianel’s cheek with a smile.
The warmth of his touch made her widen her eyes in surprise, even though she had seemed ready to burst into tears just moments ago.
“Grandius….”
“You don’t need to worry. Everything will be fine.”
“….”
“Just trust me.”
“…Okay.”
At the reassuring words of the ever-reliable Grandius, the heart that had been about to explode within Lilianel gradually calmed. She quietly nodded.
“Yeah, everything will work out.”
Yes, she shouldn’t just think negatively.
To be honest, the moment she saw Elzerba and the Undead Army she had brought with her, she faltered.
Something she had thought of as a distant possibility, something she had convinced herself would never happen—Elzerba had finally appeared right before her eyes.
And worst of all, her only target was Lilianel’s life.
The moment she saw that ashen-haired vampire, she felt her breath catch, and a cold sweat poured down her back like a waterfall.
It felt like, at any second, that vampire could destroy everything and come straight for her. A deep, suffocating fear wrapped around her chest.
…But, the place she stood now was Nevirthol, the most formidable fortress in all of history.
No one had ever breached this fortress—not once.
Moreover, the Blessed Knights of Serion, renowned as the strongest force against monsters, were also here.
Even Saint Marina Bergard, the one who had sealed Elzerba a thousand years ago, was here, standing firm on these walls.
Though the First Hero, Vellius Varius, and the Shamans of Tenma were absent, in their place stood Vellius Grandius, the 21st Hero, and Isera, a master of Chantless Magic, known as Elzerba’s greatest adversary.
In a way, this situation seemed even more favorable than the day Elzerba had been sealed a thousand years ago.
Fear and anxiety still lingered deep within her chest, but for the first time, a sense of expectation arose—perhaps they could finally put an end to that damned vampire once and for all.
“…I will send that wretched vampire to hell, no matter what.”
There was no more place to run, no place to hide.
Lilianel steadied her wavering resolve and vowed once again to slap Elzerba’s face into oblivion.
This was Nevirthol.
At her side stood the Blessed Knights of Serion, Grandius, and Isera.
There was no reason to fear that cunning monster.
“…That’s a good resolve, Lilianel.”
Grandius smiled at her, then gripped her shoulders firmly, speaking in a composed tone.
“But the battlefield is too dangerous. Stay inside the palace with Isera and Derin. I will assess the situation and follow you soon.”
“Ah, alright….”
Knowing this place would soon become a blood-soaked battlefield, Grandius made sure Lilianel was safely evacuated from the first wall.
Lilianel, without protest, quickly made her way to the palace inside the seventh wall.
“Now then… let’s take a look.”
After confirming that Lilianel was safe, Grandius leaned forward and carefully surveyed the situation beyond the fortress walls.
“…Terrifying.”
Under the dim glow of a full moon, only the dead could be seen surrounding Nevirthol.
Lined up in perfect formation, clad in ornate armor and wielding high-grade weapons, were Skeleton Soldiers unlike any ordinary undead.
By rank alone, each of them was at least A-class. Even a hundred of them would be a formidable challenge, yet here there were at least a hundred thousand—if not more.
And at the very front of this Undead Army, riding atop a phantom horse, stood an ashen-haired girl.
…The Progenitor Vampire, Elzerba.
With an emotionless expression, she exuded a murky magical energy so thick that even Grandius found it difficult to breathe.
Perhaps it was the mixture of rage and hatred in that energy, but even sensing it for a brief moment made him feel nauseous.
“….”
His eyes then moved to the three figures standing beside Elzerba.
The first was a Zombie Maid wielding a grotesque greatsword.
Elzerba’s closest aide, a monster even Grandius had heard about from Lilianel.
The second was a male vampire with striking violet hair.
“That’s…”
Grandius recognized him immediately.
Long ago, during his fifth reincarnation, this man had invaded Avilia Kingdom, claiming he would break Elzerba’s seal.
The Vampire King, Arbelion Lwaiar.
Grandius had heard from Marina Bergard that Arbelion had begun moving again, but he hadn’t expected him to already be fighting alongside the Progenitor Vampire.
One more troublesome enemy had joined the battle.
“….”
And lastly, there was a hulking human male with a fierce physique.
However, his expression did not match his intimidating stature—he looked like he was about to burst into tears.
Fidgeting anxiously, the gray hunting hound emblem engraved on his chest plate caught Grandius’s eye.
He recognized it immediately.
“…Stormhound.”
The strongest mercenary group on the continent—Stormhound.
Robert supposedly hired him to stop the Progenitor Vampire, and yet, he now stood on the same side as her.
What in the world had happened?
Had the Progenitor Vampire subdued him by force?
Or had Robert truly been her spy, or a traitor all along?
But with Robert now dead, slain by Isera, there was no way for Grandius to uncover the truth.
Still, one thing was certain.
“The Progenitor Vampire, Arbelion, and Stormhound….”
The enemies they were about to face would likely be recorded as the most powerful army in history.
“…Heh.”
A quiet chuckle escaped Grandius’ lips.
“Now, this is something to look forward to.”
If their foes were the strongest army in history, then this was the strongest fortress in history.
On top of that, they had the Blessed Knights of Serion, Isera, and the Hero’s Party, all standing firm within Nevirthol.
…You never know how things will turn out until you clash.
With no place left to retreat, their only option was to hold on to their confidence and fight their hardest.
“…If my father could do it, then so can I.”
His father, the First Hero, Vellius Varius, had once accomplished the impossible.
There was no reason his son couldn’t do the same.
“Now then, Elzerba.”
His heart pounded violently in his chest.
Yet, the smile on his lips refused to fade.
What exactly did that smile mean?
“Come at me.”
…Even Grandius himself didn’t know.
***
(II)
“Hmm….”
I slowly surveyed Nevirthol, the so-called strongest fortress in the world.
Its overwhelming thickness and towering height kept drawing my gaze.
“So, there are seven of those things…?”
From the research I had done in Lavaheart’s library, I knew Nevirthol had a total of seven of those monstrous walls.
In other words, even if I broke through the outermost wall, I would still have to breach six more just to reach the palace, where Lilianel was hiding.
How utterly bothersome.
“…A barrier, huh.”
As if to justify its title as the strongest fortress, a holy magic barrier surrounded Nevirthol.
A barrier imbued with divine power.
If it were any ordinary monsters, the moment they touched the barrier, they would turn to ash and evaporate instantly.
No, more than that, just the divine energy radiating from it would be repulsive enough to keep most monsters away from Nevirthol.
To the people of Nevirthol, and to Lilianel, this must be an incredibly reliable and reassuring defense.
But if there was one fatal flaw, it was that this barrier could not stop us.
It was only capable of repelling low-level monsters.
How laughable.
“I was expecting something impressive, but it’s just… thick walls and high towers. Not much of a problem.”
I had wondered if, after a thousand years, Nevirthol might have been upgraded with some unexpected defenses, but it didn’t seem to have anything special.
…In fact, Nevirthol had a critical weakness.
“…The skies are wide open.”
Aside from that pathetic barrier, the fortress had nothing protecting its airspace.
There were only a few ballistae scattered across the walls, barely enough to offer any defense against aerial threats.
“A fatal flaw in your city’s design, Lilianel.”
I smirked, my crimson eyes glimmering.
At the same time, in the plains between us and Nevirthol, dark energy began to swirl, forming a summoning circle.
But this was not a magic circle meant for an attack.
It was a magic circle meant for summoning.
The strongest of all my servants.
A being that, aside from that one full-moon night a thousand years ago, had never truly shown itself.
“…Come forth, Kelrathus.”
The Undead Dragon—Kelrathus.
From the unfolding black magic circle, a being more powerful than any other monster in existence began to emerge.
– KRAAAAAAAAAGH!!
With a roar toward the sky, the Undead Dragon, with its burning crimson heart, shook the earth and sent a sharp tremor through the air.
Just by appearing, it overwhelmed everything.
My ultimate undead servant.
“That… that thing….”
“Oh my goodness, mother….”
Even Arbelion and Arkahak, who had never seen Kelrathus before, stood frozen in shock.
Especially Arkahak—he must have been relieved that he had ultimately decided not to turn his sword against me.
If he had, he would have had to face that thing.
“Now then, Kelrathus.”
– KEEEEEAAAAAGH!!
I called upon Kelrathus, its tattered, grotesque wings unfurling.
Then, I gave it a command.
“Wipe them all out.”
– KEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAGH!!
As if responding to my words, it let out another thunderous roar before taking off, soaring toward the full-moon-lit sky.
Its destination—Nevirthol.
Its objective—just one.
“…Massacre.”
A hammer of judgment upon the descendants of Avilia who dared raise their blades against me.
A punishment for those foolishly devoted to Lilianel and her hero.
“…Kill them all.”
As I watched Kelrathus fly toward Nevirthol, I raised my hand and pointed forward.
– KYAAAAAAAAGH!!
– KIAAAAAAAAGH!!
And at that signal, my Undead Army, which had been silently standing by, finally let out ferocious roars.
Then, they charged forward.
Weapons in hand, they rushed toward the steel walls of Nevirthol.
To make them pay for their sins.
—
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