Chapter 469: Tochka Annihilation Battle (1)
The drinking water has run out.
There was a sense of urgency in the Tochka Fortress.
CindyWendi, who had unfolded the map, spoke with a serious expression.
"We succeeded in drawing water from the water source and were able to hold out for three more days, but it's really impossible now."
Although the influx of refugees has slowed considerably since the siege of the water source, the number of people already inside the fort is staggering.
It's no wonder that CindyWendy, who was responsible for providing food and water to their mouths, to feel sick.
Meanwhile, Osiris, sitting next to her, was just as grave as she was.
"The Leviathans have come with a plan this time. They've got a whole bunch of poisonous people in the rock formation below the peak. More than three times as many as this side."
Although Tochka Fortress is an iron fortress that is advantageous to water defenses, it only works in battles between a small number of people and when both sides have large troops, the story is different.
CindyWendy and Osiris spoke in serious tones.
"We're running out of water anyway, so tomorrow's battle will be the limit, and we'll have to settle for that."
"All-out war, then. There's no other option. With the numbers we have, there will be local battles, large and small, outside of Fort Tochka. The good thing about our misfortune is that we have many excellent commanders on this side."
The elite troops have been assembled, led by outstanding commanders such as Orca and Sade, as well as the generals and warlords of their respective houses.
Although it was hopeless, it was a good idea to try to break through head-on. contemporary romance
"What do you want to do, little brother?"
Osiris looked up and saw Vikir standing there.
"...."
Vikir didn't answer for a while.
He just stared out the window, counting the stars in the night sky.
"Is it starry night? Please come up with some kind of solution. You're the one who said we just have to stay here!"
CindyWendy exclaimed.
Even Osiris, who would normally have stopped her, was showing a rare impatience tonight.
It was only natural, given the circumstances.
Right then.
hwiiiing-
A gust of night air blew in through the open window.
"What?"
"What kind of wind...."
CindyWendy and Osiris covered their faces with their hands.
It's natural for a breeze like this to come in when the window is open.
However.
"...!"
Vikir's expression changed drastically.
Vikir lightly moistened his index finger with saliva and held it upright.
"...Southeast wind."
Vikir opened all the windows in different directions and checked the wind direction at the same time.
Vikir then returned to the southeast window, where he had always spent his time standing still.
He began to look at the constellations hanging in the corner of the night sky.
"One... two... three... four... five... six... seven...."
The seven stars are commonly referred to as guiding stars. It's a special constellation that can only be seen from a specific direction and has been a guide to many people since ancient times.
hwiiiing-
Once again, the night wind blows. This time from the southeast.
Suddenly, CindyWendy and Osiris noticed something strange.
'...Come to think of it, has the wind ever come in from this window before?'
It seemed that there had never been a breeze from this window, where Vikir had always stayed.
After realizing this trivial fact, an unexpected feeling of excitement rose in the hearts of CindyWendy and Osiris.
"One... two... three... four... five... six... seven...."
Vikir continued to count the stars.
The fact that there are seven guiding stars in the northern night sky is no secret, even to the young shepherds who live around here.
... but.
"one... two... three... four... five... six... seven...."
Vikir's third count of the stars was a little different.
"...eight."
The far end of the guide star. There was a single star shining blue.
The light of the eighth star, the one that had formed after the seven guiding stars, pierced Vikir's retinas and shone brightly.
Vikir, who had been counting the stars in silence, finally nodded.
"Good, that's one more. It has settled down for sure."
"...?"
Vikir's unclear words left CindyWendy and Osiris scratching their heads.
Soon, Vikir, who had remained silent despite everyone's encouragement and criticism, made his move.
"Tomorrow at noon will be the final battle."
It seemed like a sudden declaration, but CindyWendy and Osiris could feel it.
That tomorrow's battle would be the stage that Vikir had been planning and designing for so long, the true conclusion.
* * *
Twelve o'clock in the blazing noon sun.
The legions of poisonous soldiers besieging Tochka have begun to move.
Major General Orca's face was as grim as ever as he prepared for the final defensive battle.
With every last drop of drinking water gone, there is no longer any hope for tomorrow.
"I'm not even sure if we'll make it to midnight tonight."
"Pushishishi- There is no reason for an old man who has lived well to struggle to survive for just 12 more hours."
Marquis de Sade scowls from beside Major General Orca.
But unlike the corners of his mouth, which always curled upward, his eyes were not smiling.
"Pushishishi– there are no more troops and no more water. It's truly an extreme situation. It's been a long time since I've had a battle like this. Was it about 50 years ago? Ever since the fight with the Baskerville dogs at Salt Desert..."
"Shut up, escaped prisoner. I'm not even remotely curious about your saga, so go talk somewhere else."
"Eih- this could be the last time, and you still being rude."
Marquis de Sade pouted and shut up.
The two of them sat far away from each other on the castle pedestal and were silent for a long time.
Finally, Orca spoke first.
"...Die without shame."
"Huh?"
Sade frowned in confusion, and Orca spoke again.
"I hate to admit it, but you're of the same generation as me. Aside from me, you're the only one still on active duty."
"So?"
"Whether you like it or not, you and I have come to represent our generation. Let's not end it ugly."
"Pushishishi– take care of yourself, old man."
"...Escaped prisoner.. At best, your advice was given in good faith."
The two bad friends didn't look at each other until the end.
They just stared off into the distance, at the poisonous clouds that were turning the horizon black.
Then the army split in two, with Orca and Sade leading the way.
Orca to defend and Sade to counterattack.
The House of Morg and the House of Quovadis, specialized in defense, guarded the outer castle of Tochca under Orca's command, while the House of Baskerville and House of Bourgeois, specialized in attack, caught the enemy off guard under the command of Sade.
O-ooooo!
The giant poisonous soldiers began to surge toward the walls.
"...!"
Orca's brow twitched.
The poisonous soldiers that were now coming to the forefront were all dressed in familiar attire.
The black blood-like robe of the iron-blooded swordsman Baskerville, the red robe of the mage Morg, the white priestly robe of the religious hymn Quovadis, and the golden cloak of the rich Bourgeois.
These clothes, all dry and tattered, clearly took the form of 'shrouds.'
" ... The family tombs of each family were stolen."
The ancestors of the Baskervilles, the Morgu, the Quovadis, and the Bourgeois.
Their corpses were being processed into poisonous soldiers, the dead soldiers of the dead.
It was a moment of revelation, of the grave robbing that had once raged across the Empire.
Ku-gugugugugu...
The swordsmen of Baskerville stood at the forefront, stripped to bone, leather, and poison.
Facing them, the spiders of the Jungle stood on Tochka's ramparts, their fur bristling.
Madame Hatchling glanced over.
There, a separate unit was seen moving independently without receiving instructions from Sade.
Vikir. The person in charge of operating the separate unit.
"...."
Vikir was quietly watching the poisonous dead soldiers appearing at the front line in the distance.
Rather, what was growling with the will to go on a rampage was the detachment standing behind it, and the seven hunting dogs that commanded that detachment.
'Bostonterrier' Les Baskerville, leader of the Knights of the Pit Bull.
'Greatdan' Les Baskervilles, leader of the Knights of the Mastiff.
'Isabella' La Baskerville, leader of the Knights of the Doberman.
'German' Les Baskervilles, leader of the Knights of the Shepherds.
'Metzgerhund' Les Baskervilles, leader of the Knights of the Rottweiler.
'Cu-Chulainn' Les Baskervilles leader of the Knights of the Wolfhounds.
They stood still in the back, waiting for Vikir's instructions.
Except for the two who had been arguing loudly earlier.
"Killing a lot is best."
"Big kills are the best?"
Bostonterrier, the leader of the Pit Bull, and the Greatdan, the leader of the Mastiff, had been at loggerheads since earlier.
And Isabella, the leader of the Doberman Knights, who was looking at the two with a pitiful gaze, walked between the two and whispered to Vikir.
"Turning the bodies of our ancestors into the undead is counterproductive. If anything, it increases our combat power by raising their anger. This will increase our short-term firepower."
Isabella's judgment was cold and accurate.
Even German, the leader of the Shepherd, made the rare move of nodding in agreement with his rival.
"I think so, too. A prolonged battle would certainly be demoralizing, but we've run out of water anyway. A burning thirst will be quenched by a rage that burns hotter than that."
Meanwhile, Metzgerhund, the leader of the Rottweiler Knights, turned his head as if to say that he didn't care.
Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Vikir.
"Nephew, I've heard your 6th Form is quite impressive, but I won't ask how you acquired such skill. I just want to see what you're capable of."
"So am I. The 4th Form is my favorite sword technique. If you say that you don't have a sense as a master... You're lying!"
Cu-Chulainn, the leader of the Wolfhound Knights, had his gaze fixed on Vikir from earlier.
Since they are experts who would be disappointed to be second in the 6th and 4th Form, respectively, they seemed to want to use this opportunity to compare their skills with Vikir.
The tense muscles swell to the point of bursting, and the tendons flutter violently.
Like a rubber band pulled taut, the hounds are ready to spring at any moment.
In the midst of all this.
Vikir pulled something out of his bosom.
It was a red whistle. It was the symbol of the Baskervilles' military power.
...! ...! ...!
The piercing sound of the whistle echoed through the dry air.
kwakwang!
The Baskervilles' numerous fighting dogs pawed the ground and shot forward.
Black shadows running in the sand dust. It is a very different production from the wind blowing in the barley field.
The final battle was now beginning.
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