Regardless of what the masses desired, the government was content with simply directing passive criticism at the Nation of Darkness.
“A trip to the Nation of Darkness…? If you ask the higher-ups, you could probably stay with the army and still go. That place comes just after the subhumans on their list of priorities. Apparently, they’re thinking of establishing a united front with the Theocracy.”
“Oh, really? But won’t our differences in faith make a mess of it?”
“Yeah, I’m sure they will. Anyhow, if you stay in the army, then you’ll be able to get support from the country, and there shouldn’t be any obnoxious border inspections…at least as far as I know. It’ll also be timely, since the higher-ups want to know more about the inner workings of the Nation of Darkness.”
“That’s not a bad idea, sir. But then I can’t just smack whoever I choose, though.”
“The fact that you’re not joking is…problematic.”
“I’d feel bad for you if I caused an international incident.”
A cold evening wind whipped by. Pabel, his expression unchanging, was silent for a moment. Then, looking disgruntled as always, he murmured, “Well, it’ll be lonely without your dumb face around here anymore.”
Orlando smiled. It looked like the grin of a ferocious beast, but this was an uncharacteristic sign of bashfulness. Pabel didn’t say not to go, but he didn’t say to go, either. He also tried to give Orlando a place to come home to.
“Well, I am sorry about that… But I’ll get stronger and come back. By then, I’ll be able to teach you a lesson or two!”
“That’s some big talk.”
When Orlando flashed him an easy smile, Pabel returned it. It was as fierce an exchange as two beasts growling at each other.
Just then the bell rang.
Time to change shifts? I guess we chatted a bit too long; I might get a warning later. But Orlando’s thoughts scattered as the bell continued to ring.
When Pabel whipped around to face the hills, Orlando did the same.
This bell meant subhumans had been sighted.
For over four hundred yards out from the wall, there was nothing to obstruct their view. In the past, there had been hills and trees, but when the wall was built, clearing and flattening a large swath of the surrounding land had been a part of the public works project. The only light at this hour came from the stars. Across what was essentially a big meadow, toward the hills where there was more cover, shadows crossed the darkened ground.
“Sir.”
It was impossible for Orlando to see them at this distance in this gloom. That was why he called out to the man with better eyes.
“No doubt about it—those are snakemen.”
The response was instant.
Snakemen were humanoid creatures covered in scales, with heads and tails like cobras, a race thought to be closely related to lizardmen. Their cobra heads produced a potent venom, which they also daubed on their crude pikes. If possible, it was best to avoid close-quarters combat with them.
That said, Orlando and his men had trained their bodies to the point that they had a good chance of resisting the effects of the venom. The scales provided some defense but not enough to repel sharpened metal. Snakemen also employed their tails to great effect in combat, but those could simply be considered another weapon. Finally, due to their snakelike senses, these creatures had the upper hand in the dark, but that disparity could be managed.
Will we be the vanguard? No, Pabel’s team will probably feather them all before they make it over here.
Snakemen loathed anything cold, so they didn’t have metal armor. That made it easy for first-rate archers like Pabel’s troops to take them out.
“How many, sir?”
Most raiding parties would number fewer than twenty.
“…Sir?”
The lack of an answer gave him pause. When he looked at Pabel, what he found instead of the expected blank expression was one of obvious confusion.
“What is it, sir?!”
“…Their numbers are still growing. This could be trouble! Other races have showed up. I see armats, ogres, caven…”
“Seriously?!”
All sorts of subhumans lived in the hills, but it wasn’t as if they all got along. On the contrary, there were often conflicts over turf. Aside from goblins and ogres, who often cooperated, and races who enslaved others, members of different races usually weren’t seen working together.
There had even been cases where one race would attack the Sacred Kingdom because they had been forced out of their lands by another race.
Was it possible that was the driving force this time? If not…
“Is this a major invasion?” Someone spoke up. They may have meant to murmur it to themselves, but the comment sounded strangely loud.
“Orlando. There’s something I want to ask you.” There was an indescribable tension in Pabel’s voice. Given the situation, that was expected.
Demographics, culture, religion. Observations of the many countries largely made up of people of the same race demonstrated how difficult it was to unify a nation. That task became even harder when multiple races were involved. Bringing together the myriad subhumans in the hills seemed an insurmountable challenge.
But if they had managed to achieve that somehow, it would mean the beginning of a battle that would decide the fate of the Sacred Kingdom.
Orlando trembled.
In order to bring such diverse races together, there would need to be a clear source of power. For humans, wealth or knowledge could be that source, but for subhumans, physical strength was most convincing. In other words…
There could be someone crazy strong out there…
“Answer on your instinct as a warrior. Why do you think they showed up at this, our most heavily defended fort? Either they’re a detachment attacking as a feint so that another group can break
