Lin Jun strolled leisurely at the front of the army, hugging a jar of honey.
The ones following closest weren’t his adjutant, but two half-vampires bent at the waist, eyes never blinking as they watched his every micro-expression.
One was “Loyal Subject No. 1,” who had miraculously kept half his life after Velariss’s attack.
According to his tearful account later, the madwoman had simply found his hands and his partner’s face “pretty” and casually “taken” them.
Lin Jun, ever benevolent, had immediately poured a precious regeneration potion down his throat and restored them.
The other was the newly selected Loyal Subject No. 2.
Lin Jun looked around. Loyal Subject No. 1 had the better instincts; he immediately dropped to the ground, letting Lin Jun sit comfortably on his back.
No. 2 instantly regretted his slowness, missing this chance to prove loyalty.
This was why Lin Jun insisted on two: competition in service industries bred improvement. Monopoly only led to declining quality.
On the battlefield, both armies stood ready. Killing intent was almost tangible, awaiting only Sigmund’s order to begin the slaughter.
Yet the supreme commander Sigmund merely sat at the front, slowly dipping his finger into the amber honey jar and licking it with deliberate leisure.
His excessively relaxed demeanor seemed to escalate the tension. Invisible pressure made many human soldiers on High Fort’s walls break into cold sweat, barely able to breathe.
But to Elinore and Velariss, who had worked with him for some time, a different thought occurred.
They knew Sigmund was probably having another “episode.”
Ever since the ambush on Alama, when Sigmund had dropped the ball at the critical moment for honey, and considering his current figure, the two had easily guessed his problem.
No doubt Sigmund had fallen victim to some vicious curse or paid a terrible price for power!
He had to periodically consume massive amounts of sugar or fall into weakness; perhaps even life-threatening!
The latter seemed more likely!
After all, Sigmund’s hatred for Alama was known to all. What could be more important than personally killing Alama except his own life?
No one would believe the mighty border duke had truly become so decadent he’d abandon certain glory for mere sweetness!
Discovering such a fatal weakness in her rival, Elinore was secretly delighted.
Though she had been furious when Sigmund let Alama escape, Alama was now a turtle in a jar. High Fort wouldn’t hold much longer. That merit would be hers sooner or later.
Compared to that, her rivalry with Sigmund would last countless years.
From this perspective, effortlessly gaining a fatal weakness on her opponent was a godsend.
Velariss’s thoughts were far more direct. She licked her lips, violet eyes gleaming with excited danger as she murmured, “The way he licks honey… so cute! I really want to kill him right now!”
At the very center of the battlefield, inside Sigmund’s mind.
“Stop eating! Order the attack already! The sun’s almost up!” Sigmund’s mental voice was nearly a roar.
“What are you yelling for?” Lin Jun’s consciousness replied lazily. “This is your war, Sigmund. Why should I bother commanding for you?”
“This body is yours too now!”
“I don’t care,” Lin Jun said, smacking his lips. “I’m perfectly happy with honey. As for power and authority, what I have now is plenty.”
“Then let me take over. I’ll pay you back the time later!”
“Nine out, thirteen back, compound interest, daily.”
Sigmund went silent.
Even with overwhelming advantage, High Fort wasn’t paper. Fully conquering it would take at least a week to half a month.
With that “nine out, thirteen back” compound interest, it was basically selling the body to the other party.
Time ticked by. The front was deathly still.
Lin Jun had leisurely eaten nearly half the jar of golden honey before Sigmund spoke again.
He used a tone none of his subordinates had ever heard, almost gentle and friendly, in his mind. “I understand you resent me for casually sending your… subordinates into danger before. That was my oversight. But you already got revenge during the Alama ambush, didn’t you? We share one body now. If we keep sabotaging each other, we both lose and only outsiders benefit!”
Very reasonable. Lin Jun couldn’t help nodding.
Sigmund pressed the advantage. “How about this? Name your price. What will it take for you to help me? You don’t need to spend much time; just relay a few simple attack orders. The rest of the time you can enjoy your honey in peace. Deal?”
“Nine out—”
“Everything but that!” Sigmund nearly ground his teeth, barely suppressing raging fury.
Fortunately, his roommate finally stopped fixating on that terrifying loan-shark rate.
“You’re right. We should work together. Constantly screwing each other over is wrong.”
Sigmund desperately wanted to scream, “You’ve been the only one screwing me over from the start!” But after finally softening the other’s attitude, he wasn’t stupid enough to argue. He simply sent agreeing “mm-hmm” thoughts.
“So I think half your merits should be mine. Doesn’t His Majesty have that Book of Miracles about the abyss? After the war, when rewards are distributed, swap it for me to read!”
“That really is… half…”
The book had been the bait he used to lure the dark mage Margus.
Of course, it hadn’t been an empty promise.
If the original plan had succeeded, he would have asked His Majesty for the book as reward.
If the dream ritual had worked and crippled Alama, the primary credit for taking High Fort would have been his alone. Asking for one book would have been nothing.
But now… three dukes fought side by side!
Anyone with toes for brains knew that even if they took High Fort, after he asked for the Book of Miracles, material rewards and land distribution would shrink drastically.
But… of two evils, choose the lesser. This was still better than the roommate sabotaging the campaign and earning His Majesty’s punishment!
…
Lin Jun waved over the adjutant.
“Inform Velariss: have her trolls assault the left flank, main forces follow. Best if they destroy the underground mana transmission nodes… Tell Elinore to take her men and hit the rightmost magic tower; it’s already damaged… You take the Blood Knights, split into three hundred-man teams in skirmish formation, feint at the main gate but retreat on contact…”
What “simple orders”? Reciting Sigmund’s plans left Lin Jun’s mouth dry.
Watching the adjutant leave to relay orders, he muttered, “With such superior numbers, just F2A and done… all these fancy moves…”
Lin Jun naturally didn’t want the demons to win outright. A dominant Empire would obviously hinder his fungal mat empire.
But he could only do so much for humanity.
He only controlled half of Sigmund. Small sabotage was fine; open betrayal would force Sigmund to fight him to the death even before imperial higher-ups got involved.
Lin Jun had no intention of sacrificing himself for humanity.
He could only hope Pink Puchi’s dad held strong. Lin Jun was willing to offer maximum moral support!
—
Goldvalley City, a small city in the kingdom’s western midsection with a garrison of two thousand.
Though near Duke Brennus’s front line, fortunately the flames of war had never reached here.
During the standoff, like surrounding areas, Goldvalley City became a temporary treatment center for wounded and a transit point for military supplies.
If it differed from neighboring cities, it was that of its two thousand garrison, five hundred were Puchi masters, five hundred beastmen; human soldiers were only half.
The various beastman clans, nominally part of the United Kingdom, had always lived in the hard-to-develop southeastern jungles.
Though the total land of all beastman clans combined was less than any ducal territory, though they were rarely invited to important kingdom decisions, though beastmen faced discrimination in many places.
Facing the Empire’s threat, they were still an indispensable part of the kingdom. Conscription naturally included them!
Tigermen were born strong. Leopardmen were agile; both excellent soldiers.
The only problem: conscripted beastman troops weren’t just tigers and leopards. Beastmen were a mixed bag.
Ratmen, foxmen, birdmen… many were quite weak.
And some beastman-like groups had joined the Empire, like pigfolk.
Conscripted beastman troops were thus a motley crew, hard to use in disciplined battlefield settings.
But… better than nothing!
Angela, commander of these beastman troops, wished she had more, even if motley.
She currently felt zero security!
News of Brennus’s army routed, Sword Saint gravely wounded or possibly dead, had spread through the city with fleeing soldiers.
Civilians abandoned hope, packed belongings, and fled in droves toward safer rear areas.
Goldvalley City had no towering walls or powerful magic towers.
No one believed it could stop demons with just a moat.
Even Angela herself didn’t think they could hold.
Yet no withdrawal order had come from above.
Naturally, desertions began.
A month ago complaining they couldn’t earn merits on the front, now Puchi master commanders lost thirty-plus deserters in days, regular soldiers over fifty. Her beastman troops, oddly, had none yet.
Not because she was better than colleagues, but because kingdom law punished beastman deserters harsher, implicating entire tribes.
As for herself… unless planning treason or wanting to harm family, officers could only obey.
Now she could only pray the demon armies chased Brennus’s remnants east and overlooked small fry like them.
But that was impossible.
The main demon force naturally chased Brennus, but they wouldn’t pass up meat on the table.
Several demon detachments split off toward surrounding areas with weak defenses.
They came for two things: kill! Loot!
When Angela saw the snakefolk force appear in the distance, despair filled her.
Roughly two thousand, like them, but clearly front-line troops with high morale.
Her side was local garrison with new deserters daily.
The outcome was obvious!
As for walls… without specialized reinforcement arrays, their main use was normally collecting city taxes…
Obviously, as an unimportant small city, Goldvalley lacked fortress-grade treatment.
The snakefolk didn’t seem eager to attack, camping just out of range.
Angela figured they were waiting for natural collapse.
And so far, it was working beautifully.
“Viscount Knight, perhaps… we should withdraw!” one commander proposed shakily. “We can’t win. Even if we did, it would only draw more demons; they’d retaliate! Better now…”
Before he finished, the viscount’s sword answered.
A head rolled to Angela’s feet. She swallowed hard.
Angela and the other commanders never expected the usually easygoing Viscount Knight to draw steel without a word at a time like this.
“Run where? Take your families to be enslaved together? Or surrender to become demon slaves?” The white-haired Viscount Knight flicked blood from his blade. “Hold your weapons. For family. For dignity!”
“Yes…”
No one dared openly oppose.
But thatGU night, another hundred-plus deserters fled, including the Puchi master commander.
Thus, inexplicably, Angela and another colleague were promoted to thousand-man commanders. The Puchi masters fell under her.
The next day, as expected, the snakefolk attacked without waiting further.
But… when the fighting actually started, things weren’t quite as either side expected?!
(End of Chapter)
