It was a sword made of unrefined ore, rather than metal. Judging from its vivid coloration, it seemed to be made of magic stone, and a high-quality one at that. Minerals were hard yet brittle, making them ill-suited for use as swords. It would likely shatter from clashing with an enemy’s blade just a few times.
Ren raised the sword above his head, then swung it down at the oncoming enemy. The rebel forces were still quite a distance away. There was no way it would reach them—yet it reached them nevertheless. Countless magical blades burst from the sword’s edge.
“Wha—”
The enemy vanguard was burned by fire, sliced by wind, pierced by ice, and pelted by stones. It was as though a massive blade had swept through them, cleaving away an entire portion of the army. Ren raised his sword once again.
I immediately gasped and shouted, “Stop! They’re—”
“Foolish, unsightly, hopeless humans.” Ren swung his sword in a grand motion. Magic of every element was unleashed once more, turning into a blade that tore through the rebel army along the line of the sword’s swing. “It seems you didn’t quite anticipate this situation.” The holy knight’s smile had twisted into something cruel. “The rebel army is already dead. Every last one of them.”
“Wh-What?” I didn’t understand.
“Let me put this in a way even a foolish human can understand—they appear to be corpses,” Ren replied with a touch of pride. “That they are moving, of course, means they are being controlled by someone. In other words, it’s an army of undead, being manipulated by a necromancer.”
“Undead? All of them?”
Necromancy, the art of placing a soul into a corpse and controlling it, was a common technique even in my previous world. Jiangshi reanimated by Taoists were a well-known example, but similar techniques existed in other families of sorcery across the world. Having fought one in the combat tournament in the capital, I knew that necromancers existed in this world as well. In addition, their undead existence would explain why the poison gas had no effect. That said...
“Is it possible to control three thousand at once?”
“Almost all the elementals gathered around them are of the dark element. That would never be the case with a group of normal humans. They’re textbook undead. Also,” Ren continued, still swinging his sword, “it’s not three thousand. I’m quite certain the entire rebel army—all tens of thousands of them—are corpses under the sway of an unseen master.”
I was speechless. Certainly, if that were true, everything would fall into place. It explained why a slave revolt and a religious revolt, two completely different groups, had joined forces. The presence of an orderly chain of command, capable of splitting and directing multiple forces, now also seemed more reasonable.
However, that would mean the necromancer behind it had incredible skill. Since the spell had been maintained even through the poison gas, that meant the caster wasn’t present. They must have been controlling the army from afar, perhaps even controlling groups in other locations simultaneously. It was necromancy on a scale I’d never seen even in my past life.
“What will you do, foolish human?” Ren asked. “If you’re out of options, then I’m going to be on my way. The city will likely be overrun, but that’s no concern of mine.” The elven holy knight’s sword didn’t stop as he spoke, continually shaving away at the undead army’s front line. Still, he wouldn’t be able to stop them all, and they were gradually getting closer.
Clicking my tongue, I floated a new hitogata in the air. “I have plenty of options.” I then sent it toward the mass of undead, just barely hovering above the ground.
If my goal were simply to neutralize them, all I needed to do was dispel the magic, and they would return to being ordinary corpses. However, doing so might cause any evidence of the magic to disappear as well. I wanted to avoid erasing any potential leads if possible. Instead, I would destroy them physically.
Gliding through the air, the hitogata lost momentum just before reaching the rebels’ front line and stuck to the ground. Then I made a hand sign.
Phase of metal: Needle Mountain. Countless spikes rose up beneath the army’s feet. The round, steel spikes pierced through the corpses, halting their march. They still tried to move forward, likely because they felt no pain, but it was impossible. Their advance had been stopped for the time being. I had used the spell over a wide area so I wouldn’t miss a single corpse, turning everything surrounding the army into a hell of spike-covered mounds.
Overwhelmed, the elf boy fell silent.
“We’re investigating them after this. No running away,” I said, turning to face him.
Greek Smoke
A spell that creates sulfur dioxide gas. The gas created from burning sulfur causes intense pain in the eyes, throat, and nose of those exposed to it, and can even result in death if high concentrations are inhaled. The Spartan army’s use of it during the Peloponnesian War is said to be the first recorded instance of chemical warfare. While the gas is ordinarily colorless, Seika mixes in steam to turn it white in order to determine the effective radius.
Needle Mountain
A spell that creates a large number of conical steel spikes. Because it isn’t very precise, it’s generally used against large groups of enemies.