The earth literally trembles. Explosions bloom across the massive defensive line spanning the great plains. They fire in unison, systematically eliminating entire areas where enemies approach.
"Wheeeeeeee..."
"BOOM!"
Red trajectories streak across the night sky. After ear-splitting roars, half-deafened officers shout commands.
"Align the barrels! Align the barrels! Check the powder! Load the shells!"
Soldiers, half in a trance, mechanically raise the barrels, adjust firing angles, load shells, and pull the triggers. Click, the hammer pulls back. Then boom.
The artillery platform slams back to the ground, and another trajectory soars upward. This scene repeats simultaneously across the defensive line.
Beyond the horizon, demon army banners—crudely assembled from human bodies—tilt in the moonlight. As goblins and orcs surge forward, artillery fire responds in kind.
"Any word from the naval control?"
"No, Your Majesty. The beast hasn't shown itself yet."
"Hmm."
Elizabeta Kirillovna Krasilov frowns as she surveys the front lines with her commanders. As distant artillery fire continues, she taps the podium, lost in thought.
Sequential deployment? Why...?
Their command structure is barbaric but not foolish. Rather, they've been remarkably cunning in destabilizing our military camps and waging surprisingly sophisticated psychological warfare.
It's already obvious that their ultimate target is herself and the monarchs present. The enemy also prioritizes deep strike strategy.
This battle on the great plains can hardly be called a true "total war" in the strict sense.
Even if all forces here were annihilated and the national leaders slaughtered, humanity wouldn't neatly perish. The world isn't chess. Capturing the king doesn't end the game.
Humanity would attempt defensive battles in their respective territories, somehow gathering forces that couldn't join here. The situation would be desperate, but what matters is that the world wouldn't immediately end.
In such circumstances, the Seven Dragon Generals' worst possible tactic is this sequential deployment. They're just wasting their forces against meticulously organized artillery fire.
"Perhaps they're targeting our military supplies?"
"That makes no sense."
Ramiro I of Leonor's suggestion was immediately dismissed.
Our side has virtually unlimited shells and gunpowder. We're not under siege, and all kinds of supplies continue to arrive from the rear.
In a situation where humanity's collective will can be gathered in one place, the allied forces are waging the most extravagant battle possible.
Meanwhile, the demon army must replenish troops from the distant Northern Demon Territory. That long supply line is their weakness—half their forces will predictably starve while traversing the ravaged northern territories.
Why choose a delaying strategy in such circumstances?
'The Seven Dragon General is no fool.'
Elizabeta sinks into worry as she surveys the monarchs who are already celebrating as if victorious. The Seven Dragon General, Nekinon lurking at this front, is a cunning being. When he set traps using underground tunnels, she was tactically outmaneuvered.
In other words, his qualities as a field commander are not significantly lacking.
So this situation can be explained by very simple logic. He has some "intention."
Though we cannot confirm what it is in this situation.
Two days have passed since the first engagement. The enemy numbers still seemed endless. As dawn breaks, black smoke rising beyond the horizon spreads like fog.
The smell of demons cooking meat fills the plains.
Soldiers at the front disgustingly feel hunger. Despite knowing it's mostly human flesh.
"The enemy's troop losses don't seem as significant as expected."
"What's Kalion's opinion?"
"Aerial surveillance has limitations. At night we must observe with the naked eye, which is difficult beyond artillery range. But... yes, troop losses are not significant."
Oswald narrows his eyes as he continues.
"The forces they're deploying to the front are almost entirely goblins. This is..."
"Certainly not their main force."
"Yes, definitely not their main force. But even so... if they're hoping to deplete our strategic resources, it's a foolish choice."
"We can deploy resources without needing to conserve, and they must know this. So offer different opinions."
"Could they be trying to induce complacency? Perhaps when we hesitate to waste expensive artillery on mere goblins, they'll advance their main force through that gap?"
"He wouldn't devise such a trivial plan."
Elizabeta briefly shook her head. To this, King Domenico of Albinia stroked his chin and said:
"Aren't you overestimating him? How much could demons know about strategy?"
"You think enemies who've fought us for thirty years know nothing of tactics?"
"Their only strengths were the Seven Dragon Generals and numbers. In the last war, their strategy was nothing but charge, charge, and then massacre and plunder. Would they really wage war with tactical judgment?"
Strategy and tactics are ultimately the logic of the weaker side. Before overwhelming power that can sweep everything away, localized tactics become meaningless. As the Seven Dragon Generals demonstrated in the last war.
It's an extremely asymmetric force. Numbers become meaningless before the Seven Dragon Generals. When those incarnations of concepts arrive at the front, humans have only ever faced defeat.
"We have Krasilov's firepower, Kalion's warships, and Tilles' knights. Why should we worry about the Seven Dragon General in this situation? He must be frightened. That's why he's using such shallow thinking."
"I hope you're right."
Elizabeta briefly replied as she rose from her seat.
"Their forces are clearly more numerous than all of ours, and their commander is a Seven Dragon General. In this situation, I can only hope our defensive line can sufficiently hold them back. I hope all this... is just their tactical blunder."
Tonight is a period of weak moonlight. The only light sources are hastily installed magic lamps and light-point spells projected from airships.
She needed to inspect the front lines. Like during the Great War.
Mechanically moving toward the front, Elizabeta looked up at the darkening sky.
[I kept my promise.]
Maximillian de Etoile silently gazed at the sunset while hearing hissing sounds. When he didn't answer, Nekinon's voice grew sharper.
[Now I'll personally trample your precious kinsmen and fill my servants' hungry bellies with their flesh. Your "operation" was worthless and stupid, but I kept my promise, so you must do the same.]
"I will."
The king smiled and drew a dagger from his breast. Gold that emitted a yellowish light writhed in his grasp.
His face is reflected in the smooth blade. On the constantly moving blade surface, his face sometimes smiled, sometimes cried.
Greed. Nekinon's collar.
The king threw the dagger without looking back. The dagger spinning in midair stopped as if possessing its own gravity, then flew toward Nekinon's nape.
Crack! A small noise of metal friction was heard.
[Ha, haha.]
Crunch. Crack, crunch.
Sounds follow like a dragon shedding its skin. Melted metal forms legs that step on the ground, and powerful magic surges toward the sky like an upside-down waterfall.
Boom, boom, boom. The magic spreads like heartbeats, then gathers again, growing larger. A god who regained its torn divinity was silently screaming.
It is ecstasy. Endless greed and yearning for concept.
Glowing red eyes looked down at the Demon King and whispered:
[What about Tanashimor's?]
"I'll consider it if you win this battle."
[You'll just watch from behind?]
"Do you want me to step in?"
[No, keep watching as you've been doing, blind king. Wait with the full price of my victory. After today passes, all that is yours will become mine.]
Terrible desire scattered the king's hair. The god who finally regained its complete form takes its first step.
Far below the infinitely elevated gaze, humans can be seen lighting fires to drive away darkness.
Beyond them, human cities appeared embedded like pearls. Yes, like pearls. They sparkled like beads in a jewelry box.
Mine. All those things are mine.
The God of Greed raises its flowing body and walks.
"It's finally begun...!"
All commanders rose from their seats at once. Despite the thick darkness covering the plains after sunset without moonlight, the giant rising beyond the horizon was clearly visible to the naked eye despite the distance.
The kings anxiously began their respective roles. Managing troops, calculating enemy distances, moving according to pre-established formations.
A god is coming. A god who has never been defeated in decades. In an era without a Hero, the Seven Dragon Generals were synonymous with despair.
And there is no Hero here now.
"Not yet, wait!!"
To prevent commanders from rushing ahead with a god in sight, Elizabeta was tightening the reins of her forces with all her might.
Not yet. The enemy hasn't entered artillery range. They need to dominate the terrain with a barrage from the Harvester artillery, and when enemy forces are decimated, deploy Tilles and Kalion forces precisely toward the Seven Dragon General.
Knights led personally by Adelplat and Oskar will block his path, and mages divided among five warships will bind his limbs together. Yes, what does it matter if there's no Hero? There are dozens, hundreds of heroes who can divide the Hero's role.
Just a little closer, just a little more.
Elizabeta anxiously measured the distance with her telescope. Just short of artillery range, the golden giant stopped.
"He stopped...?"
Elizabeta murmured blankly. The enemy and his forces had stopped precisely outside the maximum artillery range, as if measured with a ruler.
'How did they know that distance?'
A cold premonition swept through her mind.
The reason for sequentially deploying goblins during sporadic engagements over the past two days.
If it wasn't simply to deplete strategic resources, but to use the most expendable troops for "reconnaissance" to calculate artillery range?
'He feared the artillery?'
Doesn't that mean he was wary of the Harvester artillery's barrage? That's what it means to fully assess the opponent's strength.
But, a Seven Dragon General? An immortal being unharmed by artillery "calculating" human artillery? Those arrogant beings?
If so...
"Kalion!! Tell Kalion!! Right now!!"
Elizabeta shouted, throwing down her telescope. The officer standing beside her approached in surprise.
"The mages!! Tell the mages! Stop him!! Right now!!"
"B-but Your Majesty! All the warships are currently according to plan..."
"Damn the plan!! Is that what matters now—"
Elizabeta stopped mid-sentence. As a superhuman, she could feel terrible magic rising.
Turning her gaze, she felt the giant at the horizon looking directly at her. The giant was raising its glowing hand.
"If all previous engagements were to assess our artillery capabilities..."
If he was wary of the 2nd Corps' artillery capabilities, what would be his best grand strategy?
Assuming both commanders are rational, that is. When Elizabeta puts herself in his position.
"He'll target the artillery first!!"
Elizabeta shouted through gritted teeth. As the giant clenched his fist, magic waves swept across the battlefield.
Whoosh, a foul-smelling wind swept her hair back.
There was no physical impact. But Elizabeta turned her gaze in fear. Toward the soldiers stationed at the artillery position below her platform.
Screech... CRASH!
The gun barrels were melting. Artillerymen screamed horribly as they fled from the boiling lava, or those who couldn't escape were being burned underneath.
Watching the artillery platforms turn into bubbling molten metal and the barrels twisting and falling, Elizabeta painfully raised her head to look at the horizon.
The God of Greed was smiling.
[Everything is mine.]
Steel snakes formed from the molten artillery rise beneath the flowing metal. Being in the rear, our casualties weren't directly communicated to the front line. The artillery section's screams weren't reaching the infantry at the front.
Even if they heard, the infantry at the front couldn't turn back to support the artillery. They were facing the black wave of demons charging forward, shaking the earth.
"Slowly!! Go slowly! Charging in like this is suicide!!"
Ivan was a sensible person, so he didn't respond to each complaint from the whining seventy-year-old man. That was a role for a kind-hearted caregiver, not an agent of the Annihilation Squad.
This uncivilized era often forces people to take on multiple roles. Give a farmer a weapon and push him to the front, he becomes a soldier; give him a carrying pole, he becomes a construction worker.
But the Annihilation Squad doesn't operate that way. They train for only one role and execute exactly what they've been trained for.
So instead of answering the old man panting behind him, Ivan gripped his axe and pistol.
Toward the demons who had their backs to him. Toward that massive force—dense as a forest, lined up like a wall, numbering in the tens of thousands even to the naked eye.