Magic Caster of Destroy

Even if I have to sacrifice myself, I will protect all of this, Raeven vowed in his heart.

Part 2

It had been two months since the Empire’s declaration of war, and now it was winter.

In villages all over the Kingdom, the bulk of the work had transited from outdoors to indoors. Fewer people ventured outside now, and not many people were still working. This was true even for the adventurers, who typically worked all year round.

Although there were cases where hungry monsters suddenly appeared in villages and requests were hurriedly made, for the most part, there was less to do. It was more dangerous to explore ruins or unknown frontiers during this period. Because of that, adventurers treated this season as something of a vacation, and channelled their energies into training, recreation or their side businesses.

That said, the Fortress City of E-Rantel was not like that. It was filled with life and energy.

This commotion, however, was somewhat different from that of other cities. The activity here was not born of the usual energy of city life.

The source of this energy came from the outermost sector of the Triple Fortress.

The countless people gathered here were shabbily dressed, and were probably peasants. But their numbers were astonishing ― there were around 250'000 of them.

Of course, E-Rantel did not always have so many people in it.

It was true that E-Rantel was the nexus of trade and traffic between three kingdoms, with people, money, good and other things flowing freely through it. Because of that, the city was a large one.

However, that by itself was not enough reason for just one sector to be packed with 250'000 people.

In that case, why were there so many people here?

The ones who could best shed light on this was a group of young men.

Carrying bladeless spears ―more like sticks, really― many young men stabbed and thrust at dummies made of wood and straw, clad in rusted armor and shields.

This was combat training. Everyone gathered here today ― the 250'000 citizens taken from the Kingdom ― had been conscripted to fight the Empire.

Loud battlecries rang out everywhere. Of course, not many of them were actually shouted in earnest.

Most of them were gripped by the fear of the coming battle, and they trained to distract themselves from the nagging worry that they would not be going home after this.

Even so, not all of them were practicing in earnest.

The wars with the Empire were a yearly occurrence. As a result, many people lacked the will to fight. There were those who laid down in unobtrusive niches along the stone steps, like puppets whose strings had been cut. There were those who vented their despair to those around them. There were those who sat down and hugged their knees and waited for the end.

As the conscripts got older, they were more likely to do this.

They had no fighting spirit at all and only wanted to return home.

This was the true face of the Royal Army. Yet, it could not be helped. To begin with, they had been rounded up by force. Then they were told that they would have to risk their lives in bloody battle for no gain to them. Even if they managed to return alive, they would return to a wasted harvest, and their lives would be very difficult, like a noose slowly strangling them.

This was no different from a drawn-out execution.

The wagons rode past the soldiers. Their beds were laden with vast quantities of foodstuffs.

Logically speaking, it would be difficult to house and feed 3% of the Kingdom’s population within a single city. However, E-Rantel was the frontline of the wars with the Empire, and had been designed to accommodate the Kingdom’s military might.

As a result of the extensive preparations made to the city, it could take in 250'000 people with ease.

Their storehouses were massive, and were probably the largest buildings in the city.

The supplies within those storehouses were transported by shuttle.

The unmotivated people turned fearful eyes to those wagons. It was as though they had seen Death slowly creeping towards them.

Everyone knew what was going to happen next.

This was a large-scale transfer of rations.

That meant the war with the Empire was going to begin.

♦ ♦ ♦

The innermost sector of the E-Rantel’s triple walls.

In the center of the city was the mansion of the mayor of E-Rantel, Panasolei Guruze Dale Rettenmaier. Although it was a luxurious home worthy of the city’s leader, it still paled in comparison to the building beside it.

That building was the most impressive in the city ― the VIP villa. It was typically sealed up, and only the royal family or those close to them would be permitted to use it.

And now, within the villa, several men were gathered around King Ranpossa III and the Great Nobles.

Gazef stood silently at the side of the King, who sat upon a crude throne.