147 Overture (1/2)
In the view of most humans, the Highland Beastmen were deprived of spellcasters. However, to the armies guarding the Northern Lands, such a saying was obviously far from the truth. The Shamans and Witch Doctors of the Beastmen were spellcasters which left people with headaches.
The former was skilled with connecting with the Elemental Spirits to induce all kinds of natural phenomenon to attack their enemies or to support their comrades. Not only was the consumption rate for their spells low, the effects of their spells were also apparent. Their offensive abilities were in no way inferior to Mages, and their support ability was comparable to Priests and Holy Knights.
Even more so, the Shamans were skilled at working with one another, and as such, they had a natural advantage in creating strategic-level magic spells. Their Earthquake Spell was an incredible weapon for raiding cities.
On the other hand, as a highly threatening spellcaster job which had few means of protecting themselves, if a powerful close combatant were to get into proximity with the Shamans….
”We can give him ten seconds to plead for Mother Earth's blessing, five seconds to draw his weapon, three seconds to do meaningless retaliation or to chant an incantation, and the final second to end him.”
”Every minute, there are fourteen Shamans who are being killed! Please do not slaughter Shamans and support the law allowing Shamans to instant-cast Earth Drifting Spell (Teleportation Spell)! Support the cancellation of the Shamans as a job! —Shaman Self-Help Fund.”
Putting aside their individual prowess and their obvious flaws, the reason why Shamans were often prioritized as a target in battle said much about their powerful support and long-distance offensive ability. This happened to be what the Beastmen, who specialized in physical brawls, lacked.
If the Shamans were the ideal combination with Beastman Warriors, then Witch Doctors were the best backup. They specialized in concocting poisons and antidotes alike, casting all kinds of curses and witchcraft, as well as dispelling curses and healing the wounded.
Even though their treatment methods were a little ridiculous—they used bloodletting to treat all ailments, after all, regardless of whether it was a common cold or a migraine. Even though they didn't know what went into the medicine that they concoct (there were lizard droppings, pitch-black grass, and many unexplainable ingredients in it), it was a fact that they had saved many lives in the Highlands which lacked doctors and medicine. (Naturally, the ones whose treatment failed had died and the dead were unable to complain.)
Spellcasters were always lacking, and that fact rang even louder for Beastmen Tribes.
For the Beastmen who were skilled at physical brawling, it was difficult to find a clan member who had a good head. Furthermore, the person had to have talent in spellcasting as well. In each tribe, these two spellcasting jobs were severely lacking and highly valued. Shamans and Witch Doctors possessed high standing in all of the Beastmen Tribes and many of them even became Chieftains.
However, at this very moment, the precious Shamans and Witch Doctors became menial laborers. They were walking up and down the altar to check on it while the furious onlookers were frustrated to the point that they started using whips to lash them.
”Dammit! We were already so careful! How could a problem still occur?”
The Blood Axe Tribe's Eron Bloodaxe wore a grim expression. The tribute ritual had been conducted by his own tribe and most of his tribe's elite Shamans and Witch Doctors had been devoted to it. The amount of tributes used for it was massive, yet it ended up like this. How could they not feel disappointed?
Was it a failure? No, that's not it. At the very least, the warm flames in the surroundings lighted by the red-orange light bore testimony to that.
Was a success? That was clearly not the case. The tightknit eyebrows and frustrated expressions on the Chieftains explained it all. At the very least, the results were not as they initially hoped for.
”Lord, the results are out. The blessing was a success and it had the effect of warding off the cold, but…”
Even though the old Shaman reported as such, nobody's expression relaxed because of it. That was because during the crucial period, that brilliant flame was suddenly cut off and the Demon Lord's furious howl echoed in everyone's ears.
”You hope to earn my blessings despite giving tribute to me with such filthy objects? To dare to place fake souls upon my altar! This is blasphemy! You all are challenging my dignity! I curse you all, I curse that you all will face destruction! To think that you all would dare deceive a Demon Lord…”
Upon realizing that there was a problem with the tributes presented to her, the furious Demon Marquess sent the flames of her wrath over. The massive flames morphed into a giant golem with a spear in its hands and it started to wreak havoc in the base. Furthermore, the opened Demon Doors meant that the Demon army was about to arrive at their base.
Fortunately, the old Shaman, who was heading the ritual, closed the connection with the Chaos Abyss in time, making the inferno avatar of the Marquess return back to the Elements and closing the Dimensional Gate. Otherwise, it wouldn't just be a matter of the failure of the blessings. If things went badly, the entire camp might have even been destroyed by the furious Demon Marquess.
Given such circumstances, for the ritual to not be a failure, the various Chieftains were surprised.
”Huh? The blessing didn't fail?”
Eron was astonished. He knew how difficult it was to deal with Elisa and he had prepared himself for failure.
”The effects of the blessing aren't complete and they can only ward off the cold temporarily. Also, based on the rate the Element is dissipating at, the blessing will cease to be in thirty days.”
Hearing those words, the Chieftains heaved a sigh of relief. When the ritual failed, everyone was prepared for the worst. Even though the original three months of blessing was cut to less than a month, this was much better than the worst-case scenario they had prepared themselves for.
”Have you checked on the issue with the tributes? Which tribe was the one that used an imitation at such a crucial period? I want the Chieftain's head to be staked on a flagpole!”
Eron was furious. They almost passed by this hard to come by opportunity, even offending a Demon Lord at that. There would be trouble awaiting them in the future.
The Demon Lords were well-known for being difficult. It would already be a blessing for people if they did not cause any trouble of their own accord. If someone wanted their assistance, aside from waiting on them properly, the summoner had to pay the expensive ”appearance fee” as well.
The most stable currency in use in the Lower Realm was the souls of the Upper Realm. In order to please the Inferno Marquess, the tributes used this time were top-quality slaves from each and every tribe.
It was impossible for the ritual to fail for no reason. The Demon Lords were known for being fickle-minded, but they were even more reputed to care to speak the truth (If they were displeased with someone, they would immediately make a move. If there was a treasure in sight that they wanted, they would immediately snatch it.). Since the Demon Lord roared at them because she was unsatisfied with the tributes, it was very likely for there to be a problem with the tributes.
”This…” The old Shaman of the Tortoise Tribe slightly hesitated. However, upon seeing the confused gazes the Chieftains were shooting him with, he knew that he had no choice but to say it. As such, he gritted his teeth and spoke.
”The tributes have been all expended, but the blessing was incomplete. Given that there was a loss in power in the ritual, the souls used in the ritual must not be enough. However, it was impossible to check on it since the tributes are no longer here. However, based on the timing when Lord Elisa became enraged… It matches with the timing when the Blood Axe Tribe's tribute was being presented!”
Instantaneously, the furious Eron who was still interrogating others became speechless. To think that his tribe would be the cause of the trouble?
Hostility appeared in the eyes of the surrounding Chieftains. They also seemed to recall that the inferno statue's howl was directed toward the Blood Axe Tribe's camp. Even so, Eron was so determinedly pointing the blame to other tribes, wasn't this a case of a thief calling another a thief?
Unknowingly, the seed of discord had been planted. One still required prestige to head the other tribes, and the consecutive failures had struck a blow to Eron's prestige. In the eyes of some others, Eron losing his ability to rally all of the others tribes could mean that they might be able to replace him as the Great Chieftain.
Putting aside those seemingly peaceful but discordant Chieftains, when the short ritual was terminated abruptly, the will of a certain someone had already descended onto this world. The person had taken some of the tributes for her personal use.
Currently, the altar was a mess. In the midst of the tributes, a fiery red apparition was slowly becoming corporeal.
Breathing the cold air that was finally without the smell of sulfur, a smile appeared on the familiar, beautiful face. Similar to the avatar of the Goddess of Storm in the City of Rain, the silver-haired Demoness had secretly sent an avatar to the mortal realm.
”Master, do you miss me? Have you made preparations to welcome me? I did say that I would conduct sudden inspections.”
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When large-scale aerial battles had yet to become a possibility, terrain remained an important aspect of surface battles.
Kamo's Tear, rebuilt from the remains of the Mist Country's original Steel Fortress, was surrounded by sharp cliffs. The heavy city walls had been plated with the expensive enchanted alloy. What flowed in the moat of the fortress was a type of unfreezable oil made of alchemy. Once lit, the flames would burn furiously for two months straight before the fuel ran out.
A third of Sleuweir's military strength and forty percent of the country's spellcasters were gathered in the city. A total of nine large-scale Mage Tower and thirty midscale Mage Tower faced the ravine near the Beastmen's territory. Furthermore, the fire ballistae placed throughout the wall were so dense it made goosebumps rise by looking at it from afar. Two hundred years of painstaking effort and investment had turned it into one of the few impregnable fortresses on the continent.
As an infallible fortress, it had locked the Beastmen out from the human society for two hundred years. It was said that its establishment was heavily supported by the countries of the Northern Lands and the several powerful empires of the continent.
Ever since its establishment, those city walls which even Giants were unable to climb over became one of the greatest obstructions to the dreams of the Highland Beastmen. Lacking siege weapons, they found themselves helpless against it. Conquering a fortress of such size with the few aerial tribes and troops they had was a mere dream. Even the previous Great Chieftain of the Beastmen Tribes had died beneath the walls of the fortress.
But if I had to speak, it was all a mistake from the very start.
”Does an impregnable fortress really exist in the world? You may be able to defend yourself against a regular army, but are you able to guard yourself against assassinations and Forbidden Spells? Placing all of their eggs into a single basket was the wrong strategy. Even if the fortress was truly impregnable, the enemy could choose to circumvent the fortress. Even if there is no plausible route at the moment, it is possible for the enemies to simply pave one themselves.”