A volley of arrows exploded into the ranks of the Empire's Army.
The shafts tore into the soldiers without mercy, shattering their formations. Cries of agony rose from every direction.
Yet, the actual casualties were minimal. Out of an army numbering tens of thousands, barely a hundred had been wounded. In the grand scheme of the battlefield, it was a negligible loss.
No, that isn't it.
As I observed the field, I sensed an abnormality. Pockets of soldiers were coughing uncontrollably. Some were falling to their knees, paralyzed, while others vomited blood. Each symptom manifested near where an arrow had struck.
Sensing the danger, the soldiers began to retreat in a panic. I turned to Henry.
"What did you do?"
"Laced the tips with a powdered toxin," Henry explained with a boastful grin. "It's designed to disperse on impact. It thins out and loses its potency quickly, but it’s lethal while the cloud lingers."
He looked positively invigorated. He wasn't just a combat-obsessed brute; he relished these sorts of underhanded stratagems. Henry never hesitated, no matter how inhumane the method. He was a man who would do whatever it took to achieve the most efficient result.
"The goal is to thin their numbers with minimal effort. Once they realize they're being poisoned, their movements will sluggish. That's when we tear through the gap."
Speaking nonchalantly, Henry readied his bow and took aim. His merciless shot took a man who appeared to be a commander right in the forehead from an incredible distance. The officer collapsed, eyes wide with shock.
Henry didn't stop. He fired again, catching another soldier in the brow—a man who had just been about to relay orders. Both targets were at a range where identification with the naked eye was nearly impossible, yet he sniped them as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Impressive."
"Hahaha! Keep the praise coming, Boss, though you won't get anything extra out of me."
In high spirits, Henry skillfully worked his bow while he spoke. He methodically picked off the officers, dismantling their chain of command with surgical precision.
All the while, the monster archers continued their barrage of poison arrows. Even if the shots missed, the mere proximity to the impact zones caused harm. The Empire's Army found their movements increasingly restricted. Combined with the loss of their leadership, they were spiraling into total chaos.
The majority of the Imperial forces were now pivoting to deal with us. They had left the suppression of the undead on the forest side to a skeleton crew, judging that we were the primary threat. It was a reasonable assessment. I had expected them to react this way.
Before long, a retaliatory rain of arrows plummeted from the sky in a dense, suffocating cloud. Despite the ambush and the loss of their commanders, their counterattack was disciplined. These men were veterans; their overall quality was exceptionally high.
But in the end, they were only human. They lacked the strength to face a true monster. I had to show them a disparity that no amount of human effort could ever bridge.
I invoked wind magic, sweeping the arrow-rain aside. Some of the shafts had been magically reinforced, but it made no difference. I simply overpowered them with raw magical output. The arrows, their trajectories violently shifted, fell harmlessly around the Demon King's Army. We remained completely unscathed.
"The Boss's magic is a marvel no matter how many times I see it. Don't you think so too?" Henry clapped his hands and looked toward Logan, who was watching the exchange in silence.
Logan’s brow furrowed. He glanced at me with a grim expression.
"……Indeed. Truly, he is the Demon King."
Logan spoke after a short pause. Contrary to the weight of his words, his gaze was that of an old friend—a change so subtle that no one else would have noticed. Even after witnessing the terrifying power of the Demon King, his heart toward me had not changed. I felt a quiet sense of relief.
At that moment, I perceived a sharp whistle cutting through the air. An arrow was aimed directly at me. I snapped a barrier into place, and the shaft clattered to the ground inches from my face.
So, they attempted a sniper shot of their own.
I picked up the broken arrow and scanned the enemy ranks, locating the archer hidden among the mass of soldiers. The aim had been perfect. Under different circumstances, it might have been a direct hit. It seemed the Empire's Army possessed talented archers as well.
Before the thought could even settle, Henry had already silenced the sniper.
"Hahaha! What an uncouth fellow, trying to interrupt the conversation."
Henry stated it as if it were a universal truth. Long-range combat was his undisputed domain. His bow, crafted from dragon materials, possessed an overwhelming reach. Combined with his peerless skill, the entire battlefield was effectively within his attack range. To the enemy, he was a living nightmare.
I suppose I should contribute a little as well.
With that thought, I conjured and launched a Miasma Spear. The projectile streaked across the field, skewering several men in a single line. The fallen were instantly corrupted by the miasma, rising as the undead.
These newly created thralls immediately set upon their former comrades. Those they tore apart and killed soon rose to join them. It was a tactic I had grown familiar with. It ensured the Imperial soldiers could not easily close the distance to our main force.
As I watched the undead multiply, a burst of light erupted in the sky. Emerging leisurely from the radiance was a lion wreathed in shimmering light. The beast descended upon the Empire's Army, its wings beating with rhythmic power.
It tore soldiers apart with its claws and crushed them with its fangs. It unleashed breaths of crimson flame, incinerating entire ranks. Steel glanced off its hide, and spells dissolved into mist upon contact with its phosphorescent glow. In an instant, the lion began a one-sided slaughter. The soldiers no longer had the slightest leeway to launch an attack against us.
That is a Phantom Beast, summoned through Spirit Magic.
I recognized its nature instantly. There was only one person here capable of such a feat.
"…………"
The caster in question—Logan—stood with his hands clasped, every ounce of his focus poured into the spell. He had narrowed his usually sharp eyes even further.
Henry, who had stopped firing, watched the Phantom Beast’s rampage with genuine admiration. "Hoh, so that’s the elves’ ace in the hole. Impressive."
"……It won't…… last long," Logan groaned, his eyes fixed on the carnage. "Hurry and finish them off."
Looking closely, I saw sweat pouring from his face. His teeth were clenched so hard they seemed ready to shatter. Maintaining a Phantom Beast of that scale placed a staggering burden on a single caster. Normally, it took a circle of elves to manifest an entity several ranks inferior to this one. Furthermore, Logan specialized in support magic; he shouldn't have had the aptitude for such an aggressive, high-level offensive summon.
The fact that he had forced the manifestation was a testament to the pride and resolve of the Elven Clan. It was a declaration that they were not mere refugees to be protected by the Demon King. It was also, undoubtedly, a personal strike against the Empire that had tried to seize their home.
"Now then, is it about time we charge? Boss, do you mind?" Henry asked, a manic glint in his eyes. He was on the brink of losing all rational restraint. The air around him crackled with the urge to kill.
I gave him a short nod. "Very well. Crush them to your heart's content. You have permission to annihilate them."
"Hahaha! Now that’s an order I can get behind! Alright, lads—move out!"
Ecstatic, Henry took the lead and sprinted toward the enemy. The monsters followed suit, a tide of violence rushing forward. A strange silence settled over our position, leaving only a few undead and ourselves behind.
"……Your new comrades are... spirited," Logan noted dryly.
The lion Phantom Beast vanished into thin air, evaporating like mist. Logan had judged its role finished. It was for the best; it would have been problematic if he had collapsed from overexertion.
"They are certainly noisy," I replied, watching the Empire’s retreat. "But they are reliable."
Though they had various motives and beliefs, they were warriors who had pledged their lives to the Demon King. They would fight for me until their last breath.
"Is that so? Then I can rest easy."
"…………"
I looked at Logan. He was watching the Demon King's Army overrun the Imperial forces. His expression was set with a hard, unwavering resolve.