The lizardmen were too shocked to say anything. The scene before them played over and over again, filling them with awe and fright. It was strength on a completely different dimension, the work of a person whose power surpassed anything they could even envision in their imaginations.
✦ ✦ ✦
Beyond this, Soei thought, the Replicants could take care of things themselves. He left the sixth copy there as a contact point, just in case, and then began moving again, undetected by anyone. He was on his way back to Rimuru, his master, seeking a new role for himself.
✦ ✦ ✦
After Gobta and Ranga went on their way, Benimaru thought in silence for a moment.
“If I could ask,” he said to the hobgoblins within earshot, “can all of you use Shadow Motion?”
The tempest wolves, Ranga’s clan, could use it—what about their partners on the battlefield?
“Not by ourselves, like Gobta can,” replied one of the riders, who sported an eyepatch. “But if we’re with our partners, we can, yes.”
“Yeah! We’re one with our partners, body and soul!”
“Good to hear,” Benimaru said, nodding contentedly. “We’re going to slash our way into the encirclement from the outside, so I want you to Shadow Motion yourselves to Gobta. Sir Rimuru sent him ahead first so it’d be easier to transport the rest of you there.”
“Oh,” another hobgob commented. “Wow, Sir Rimuru’s pretty smart!”
“Yeah! So he had Ranga divert the enemy’s attention while he had Gobta shore up the lizardmen’s position?”
“And then we charge in, regroup with Gobta, and while the enemy’s confused, we turn the tables on them. Right?”
Benimaru nodded. There was a smile on his face, betraying his delight at everyone understanding Rimuru’s train of thought.
“That’s exactly it. And if you understand it, charge in there, now!”
““Yes, my lord!!””
Thus, the goblin riders began their first onrush into the war.
✦ ✦ ✦
That left only the three ogre mages in the area.
Benimaru began to stretch out his body, not a trace of concern in his mind. As a fighter race who worked as mercenaries and such, ogres bore a particular emotional attachment to having a “master” to rely on. Earning a master to serve for the rest of their lives was the single sincerest wish they all shared.
That, and Benimaru’s warrior past changed his outlook on the world. He knew he tended to act selfishly most of the time. That was why he had hesitated to take over the role of ogre king, back in the day, not that it mattered now. Having such a lofty position would mean he would never have been allowed on the battlefield where death was a constant presence. Now, things were different. He could play a front-and-center role all day if he wanted. He liked where he was, and he had two of his friends with him, following him without complaint.
“It is coming soon,” Hakuro observed, stretching out his body to prepare.
“It is,” Shion chimed. “We must thank Sir Rimuru for providing this chance.”
They, along with Benimaru, saw Rimuru as their master. That was why they felt so safe relying on each other. They were working together for a common master, and Rimuru enjoyed his position leading them both.
“All right. Shall we kick this off, then? The first battle in the glorious victory we will eventually offer to Sir Rimuru?”
The ogres nodded at Benimaru’s words, and instantly, the three took off at top speed. They ran through the lush trees and grass, almost flying along the ground, the smell of water growing stronger in their nostrils. They were upon the marshlands in the blink of an eye, smashing through the orc hordes on the outer perimeter without dropping their speed for a moment.
A blast of energy shot out from Shion’s heavy sword. The orcish soldiers crowded in front of her were blown away before they realized what had happened—and the attack signaled the beginning of their battle.
✦ ✦ ✦
Weak. That was Benimaru’s first impression. He didn’t have to bother lifting a finger as Shion and Hakuro cut down anyone foolhardy enough to approach.
To Benimaru, though, this wasn’t very fun. His two compatriots were masters of close-quarters combat. Shion also had the Art known as Ogresword Cannon, which let her unleash pure energy from the tip of her blade. From an overhead perspective, Hakuro worked in little dots of activity, while Shion fired lines of lethal bolts from afar. There was no room for Benimaru to do anything else.
“All right! You pigs standing in front of me; you had better run for your lives. Do, and I will spare you.”
None of the orcs flinched. They could hear shouts of “Die, bastard!” and “You will not ridicule us!” as they charged at the ogres, even more enraged than before.
“Prepare to die, then!”
Realizing his foes had no intention of fleeing, Benimaru casually thrust his right hand forward. A black ball of flame flickered to life above it, expanding to about three feet in diameter before he unleashed it. Realizing the danger, the orcish soldiers took evasive action—but they were too late. The fireball continued to expand and accelerate, faster than a hurricane, and the orcs were simply too slow to run from it.
Anyone who touched it was instantly incinerated, not even leaving a pile of ashes behind. But that wasn’t what made the dark fireball terrifying. Several seconds later, upon reaching a large clutch of orcs in front of it, the flame released all the energy it had stored inside. An area three hundred feet in diameter was suddenly cloaked in a dome of pure black, centered around the fireball. Then, a mighty rumble, low and loud enough to freeze the entire battlefield, and the blood of everyone in it.
The entire area was now quiet, robbed of the sounds of war that ruled over it just a moment ago. This was Hellflare, an incendiary attack that dominated like nothing before or since.
In his evolution, Benimaru had obtained the extra skills Control Flame, Dark Flame, and Ranged Barrier. Combining those with his own mystical skills led to this creation, an original skill exclusive to himself.
In a few seconds, the dome disappeared, leaving nothing but scorched earth behind. The marsh water in the area affected had vaporized, the very soil under it turned into glass by the heat. The transformation was stark, and the several thousand orcs who had been under that dome were all now a thing of the past, never knowing what had hit them.
And it all happened within a minute of the first flicker of flame from Benimaru’s hand.
✦ ✦ ✦
This was the answer Benimaru had for this war. The evolution had turned him into a terrifying magic-born, one whose area-of-effect attacks could now wipe out entire regions at once. He grinned an evil grin.
“Open the way, pigs!” he warned, once again. Now these orcs knew fear. The Ravenous unique skill inoculated them to it to some extent, but Benimaru’s tactical strike was more than enough to stoke the fear at the deepest pits of their stomachs.
This was an attack they could never withstand, no matter what they did. It was on a level they had never experienced before. Magic, they had measures against, but not even the orc generals, equipped with anti-magic full-plate mail, could survive the incineration. Innate resistances to fire, the orcs reasoned, were useless, and they were right—your garden variety of magical immunity wouldn’t work here. This attack was a fearsome antipersonnel weapon, equal to a high-level forbidden incantation.
There was nothing any of the victims could have done. And not even their ashes remained, robbing the survivors of the ability to consume the corpses and strengthen themselves. No orc soldier could handle a high-level magic-born, and his debut struck fear in their hearts.
In a panic, they began to stampede, totally out of control. Nothing could knock them back to their senses now; the only thing in their minds was running, quickly, anywhere away from there.
And it was that opening salvo that signaled to Rimuru and his forces that it was time to join the fray.