Leaving the infirmary alongside the commander, Oscar headed straight for the ramparts.
Whooooosh!
The sharp wind characteristic of the canyon lashed violently against their faces as if scraping the skin away.
“Over that way.”
At the foot of the wall pointed out by the soldier, a solitary corpse was indeed standing upright.
Commander Arman, channeling mana into both eyes, swallowed a groan at the sight.
“How long has it been standing like that?”
“Less than five minutes, sir.”
“...It demanded an audience with me, which means it’s capable of communication?”
“Yes, sir. It seems most likely that the necromancer is speaking through that corpse.”
“Hmph.”
Wearing a look of incredulity, Arman gestured with his hand, prompting his adjutants to approach.
“What do you think its intention is?”
“We cannot say at this moment, sir.”
“It could very well be a diversion to draw our eyes here. Have you scouted the surroundings thoroughly?”
“Yes, sir. The army of corpses gathered below the canyon is all there is. Since assembling, none of the enemies have made any notable movements.”
“Huuuum.”
Stroking his chin, he glanced in Oscar's direction for a moment.
“Master Oscar. I will first confer with my staff to establish our plan of response. Would you mind stepping away for a moment?”
“Of course.”
No matter how remarkable his achievements in Pervache had been.
In the end, as a mage of the White Tower, he was an outsider here.
Stepping aside, Oscar looked around to search for familiar faces.
‘The White Tower members should all be around here as well.’
If he put his mind to it, he could easily locate them using a scan, but he refrained since his physical condition was a wreck.
His mana circuits were tangled in tight knots, just like a ball of yarn left bunched up in a pocket.
‘Ah, there they are.’
Before long, Oscar spotted the members of the White Tower and approached them, Elder Maxim being the first to brighten with delight.
“So perhaps we too should contact the White Tower to... Hm? Oscar!”
Stepping close, Maxim crushed him in a tight embrace before letting go.
“...Gag, I can’t breathe.”
“Ah, my apologies. I was just so glad to see you. How is your body holding up?”
“For now, I manage. More importantly, are you yourself all right, Elder? You fainted at the very end.”
“Ahem. I showed you an embarrassing sight. But I am fine now. I could fight those things right this instant.”
Oscar broke into a faint smile at Maxim's dignified expression and exchanged glances with the others.
Though nothing had been said between them, Gilli winked with one eye, as if promising to keep his true identity under wraps.
The commander was back to wearing the artifact that concealed his face.
“By the way, what were you discussing?”
“Ah, we were conferring over what to do... in the event that this incident sparks a full-blown war.”
With a solemn expression, Maxim looked down at the legion of corpses beneath the fortress and spoke.
“Those things—their numbers have grown since we last saw them.”
“....”
At those words, everyone fell silent.
For they knew, even without being told, from where the legion of corpses had reinforced its ranks.
“We will have to see how the situation develops, but we might have to request reinforcements from the White Tower ourselves.”
“Indeed. We cannot simply relax just because the Central Army has joined us.”
As Gilli nodded in agreement, Maxim turned his head.
Reflected at the edge of his vision were the mages moving back and forth atop the ramparts.
“It won’t be our story alone. The other magic towers will have to take part as well, whether willingly or unwillingly.”
Once the heavy topic passed, Gilli spoke up.
“Still, that old bastard isn’t coming out in person.”
Resting his elbows on the rampart, he gazed toward the very rear of the corpse legion.
“I've been looking over whenever I find the time, and I haven't seen him move an inch.”
“Looking for another fight?”
“No, just keeping an eye on where he is. In case he tries anything funny.”
Hearing this, Oscar also scanned for Silgrim, but with his mana unavailable, he couldn't see very well.
“If you mean that bastard, he has been in that state ever since he first arrived.”
The commander chimed in.
“Yet seeing as the corpses keep multiplying without rest, it seems his attention is focused elsewhere.”
“...Is he attacking the surrounding villages to replenish his forces?”
“The likelihood is high. There are several small villages in this vicinity, after all.”
Just imagining it caused Oscar's fists to clench tightly.
“Hm? Wait a moment.”
Right then, Maxim abruptly snatched Oscar's wrist.
Ack!
As a short cry of pain burst from Oscar, Maxim's brow furrowed.
“Fine, you say? Your mana circuits are completely tangled, aren’t they?”
“...A little rest will set it right.”
“When it's time to rest, you must rest thoroughly. If you keep nibbling away at your mana like this, you might end up with permanent damage.”
Oscar let out an awkward laugh at the nagging he hadn't heard in a while.
“Even so, with the situation being like this, how can I be the only one to....”
“Look over there. Look that way.”
Maxim gestured toward the rear with his chin.
There, soldiers were distributing relief supplies such as water and rations to the refugees.
Though the appearance of those who had fled and abandoned their hometowns was disheveled, their expressions were at peace.
Even a child wrapped in a blanket leaned against his mother's bosom, sleeping softly and peacefully without a care in the world.
“Those are the people you saved. I consider that more than enough to have done your part.”
When Oscar could offer no reply, Gilli nodded.
“That’s true. Besides, the Central Army is here this time, so don't push yourself too hard.”
“Gilli is right. More to the point... you two seem quite close.”
“Haha, our personalities turned out to match quite well, you see?”
Maxim looked back and forth between the two with a suspicious gaze.
It was right as Oscar was trying hard to avoid that gaze.
“Master Oscar.”
Arman, having concluded his discussion, called out to them.
“Could you come here for a moment? I intend to speak with that creature.”
“Understood.”
As Oscar moved, the White Tower party followed in tow.
After confirming their approach, Arman nodded to his adjutant.
“Do not let your guard down, even while we are conversing. Do not be unsettled, no matter what the necromancer says.”
“Yes, sir.”
The archers atop the ramparts completed their preparations to draw their bowstrings.
The mages too prepared their staves and grimoires at their respective positions.
Even as it watched all those preparations unfold.
The corpse beneath the ramparts did not stir in the slightest.
“....”
The corpse bore the appearance of an ordinary man.
Bearing neither weapon nor armor, clad only in clothes stained with dirt and blood.
Before dying, he had likely not even been a soldier.
“Hear me, corpse!”
As Arman shouted toward the base of the rampart, a mage amplified his voice.
“I am Arman Becker, the commander of this post. I heard you demanded a dialogue.”
A brief silence hung in the air.
The limp corpse then twitched unnaturally, and its head slowly lifted.
—It certainly took you long enough.
A voice slipped out from between parched, cracked lips.
The moment he heard it, Oscar's expression hardened.
Standing right beside him, Gilliot also muttered under his breath.
“It really is that old bastard's voice.”
There was no way they could forget the voice that had driven them so fiercely into a corner just yesterday.
Arman, confirming their reaction, nodded.
“What is it you have to say that drives you to speak through the body of a corpse?”
—I intend to grant you an opportunity to make a choice.
The corners of the corpse's mouth curled up subtly.
With eyes completely devoid of life while only the lips curved into a smile, the effect was grotesque in the extreme.
—If you hand over just one person I desire, I shall quietly withdraw my legion and leave.
“Words not even worth listening to.”
Arman's eyes grew cold and detached.
Seeing this, the corpse spoke with a laugh.
—Even if the subject in question is a demon?
“...What?”
“It is nonsense, sir.”
The adjutant whispered in a low voice.
Whether having heard the words or not, the corpse shook its head with exaggerated theatricality.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
—No, it is not nonsense. It seems you are unaware... but at this very moment, there is a demon among you.
“...A demon?”
—Indeed. A bat-like wretch who hides among humans despite being a demon. Even now, he stands right by your side.
As the corpse raised its index finger, everyone's gaze followed the fingertip.
The hand drifted slowly to the side, then came to a halt pointing at the Violet Brigade Commander.
—The Violet Brigade Commander—hand that bastard over.
“....”
—If you find it inconvenient to turn him over alive, it matters not if you kill him and simply cast his body down from the wall.
The surroundings fell dead silent.
The sound of the canyon wind lashing against their faces and ears felt exceptionally loud.
Amidst that silence, the corpse issued its final ultimatum.
—I shall grant you precisely twenty-four hours to think it over.
With those parting words, the corpse slumped its head once more and ceased all movement.
As if waiting for their decision, it simply stood before the rampart.
“...It seems.”
Turning his head, Arman wore an exceedingly complicated expression.
“We have need of a conversation between us.”
To those words, Oscar had only one answer to offer.
“Understood.”
The council room deep within the fortress was spacious.
It was a place containing merely a circular table and chairs.
Perhaps because the structure had been carved directly into the canyon's interior, a chill wind drifted through, making the body shiver.
“....”
“....”
Those seated in the council room were generals and officers of the Central Army.
And with the White Tower mages, including Oscar, there were about thirty people in all.
The first to break the silence was the commander, Arman.
“First, what we must address is... are the enemy’s words the truth?”
The White Tower mages, being unaware, remained silent, while Oscar chose his words carefully for a moment.
At that juncture, the brigade commander boldly removed his artifact.
As his face was revealed and his horns were exposed, the adjutants exchanged glances.
“He is indeed the Violet Brigade Commander, whom the Imperial Court declared a public enemy.”
“I shall not deny it.”
“Then the claim that you are a demon is also true.”
“It is a fact.”
His confirmation made, Arman's gaze shifted toward Oscar.
“Did Master Oscar know as well?”
“Yes.”
“From here on, you had best choose your words with utmost care. Traveling together while knowing this can be very easily misunderstood, you see.”
Oscar nodded his head.
“I am well aware. And I can explain everything.”
“That is a relief. If so, let us hear it.”
With those words, Commander Arman clasped his hands together and leaned his upper body forward.
Where should he begin?
After a brief moment of deliberation, Oscar spoke.
“The account I am about to share is a matter tied directly to the Imperial Court, so I must ask for your silence on this matter.”
“Very well. Adjutant, bring the Parchment of the Oath.”
Arman made a light nick on his thumb with a dagger, affixed his signature, and passed the parchment to his side.
Once it made the full round and everyone's signature was in place.
Only then did Oscar finally open his mouth.
“As some of you may know, one who proclaims himself the new Great Emperor has emerged in the Demon Realm.”
At those words, the eyes of several officers and generals glinted.
Though they did not let it show, it was easy to tell that they belonged to the Shadow Stalkers.
“The Violet Brigade Commander is his elder brother.”
The council room grew quiet.
One adjutant who had been leaning back against his chair sat upright and demanded:
“And so? What does that have to do with protecting that man?”
“Those brothers possess a special power. When one dies, the other absorbs that power. Thus, the commander's death directly leads to the completion of the Great Emperor. When that occurs, the Great Emperor will launch the war he has postponed all this time. At that point, it will not merely be an issue of a single fortress or a single castle; the entire Empire will be under threat.”
“Are those words true?”
Arman asked the brigade commander directly.
“They are. If you wish, I can demonstrate.”
The brigade commander pointed out an officer who appeared reasonably strong.
It was a 7th-circle mage leading the Central Army’s mage battalion.
“Cast a spell at me.”
“...You could die or be severely injured, you know?”
“You would not believe it unless it were of that caliber.”
“What should we do, sir?”
As the mage looked toward Arman, the commander replied curtly.
“Limit the output. Only enough that it will not take his life.”
“Understood.”
Having received permission, the mage began chanting his spell formula.
“Burn flesh and soul alike, leaving not even ash behind. Inferno.”
Fwwwwwwosh!
Blistering heat swept across the council room.
The spell struck the brigade commander head-on, yet the instant it touched his body, it vanished without a trace.
“...Phew.”
Having absorbed the entirety of the spell, the brigade commander answered.
“As you see, I can absorb and release any kind of energy. That bastard possesses the exact same ability as I.”
“If you die, that bastard claiming to be the Great Emperor perfects that ability?”
“Correct.”
“Fine. But all you have shown us is your ability. How can we trust that your words are true?”
At the adjutant's words, the brigade commander pressed his lips tightly shut.
For in truth, proving that part was an impossibility.
Surprisingly, the counterargument came from another officer.
“Does not the very fact that the necromancer desires that man's death lend weight to that claim?”
“One cannot be sure. He could simply have committed a crime in the Demon Realm before fleeing. Being the Great Emperor’s brother could also just be a story he fabricated.”
“Still, shouldn't we consider the possibility of those words being true?”
“Conversely, leaving him alive because of those words could end up causing an even greater disaster.”
Opinions were sharply divided, and the arguments of both sides held merit.
In the midst of the council room which had turned clamorous in an instant, Commander Arman, who had been silent until now, finally opened his mouth.
“Silence.”
In the atmosphere that immediately grew hushed, he asked:
“If he were a figure of such importance, shouldn't you have requested protection from the Imperial Court from the very start?”
“We already did.”
“Hm?”
“The reason we headed for Pervache was to hide the commander in His Majesty's secret safe house located there. I did not travel with him out of my own independent judgment.”
Those words would mean that His Majesty the Emperor had directly ordered the protection of the Violet Brigade Commander.
If true, there was no reason whatsoever for them to squabble among themselves here.
Arman ordered his adjutant.
“Is communication with the Imperial Court currently possible?”
“Neither standard communication nor crystal balls can be used. It appears to be due to the demonic energy being spread by the necromancer.”
“....”
After a brief pause for thought, he continued.
“In that case, move outside the sphere of demonic influence and contact the Imperial Court. In addition, report the enemy's demands alongside it.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Master Oscar, can you use spatial magic?”
“My mana circuits are currently tangled, so it is impossible.”
With that reply, a mage stepped forward and examined his body.
“It is true.”
“Hmph... It seems we have no choice but to take the overland route. Adjutant, can you return by tomorrow?”
“Traveling to the capital might be difficult, but merely contacting them from outside the boundary of demonic influence and returning will take no more than a few hours.”
“Then I leave it to you.”
As the adjutant departed his seat, the meeting also drew to a close.
Arman exhaled a deep sigh.
“If you have lied, the White Tower will not be able to escape the repercussions either.”
“I am aware. If it is a lie, you may take my head.”
At that resolute expression, Arman's face softened as well.
“Even so, tomorrow is the immediate problem. It seems that bastard will launch an all-out assault....”
“Is this not quite a suitable location for holding a siege?”
“...The number of enemy forces is increasing rapidly. When I looked earlier, there were things among them that were not human.”
“Does that mean he is turning even monsters into corpses?”
His intention to swell his ranks by any means necessary and besiege them was plain to see.
“I believe this place is secure, but the necromancer must have something in mind to be gathering an army like that.”
And the next day.
The corpse that had been dormant for a full day raised its head once more.
—It is time to hear your answer.
The adjutant who had left the fortress to establish contact had not returned.

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