Chapter 1:
Humanity Defeated
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THE ORCISH LEGIONS had taken their positions atop the hill. Each stalwart soldier brandished a spear several times his own height, and their close-knit formation that extended far over the long ridge filled the autumn sky with the gleam of pointed blades.
Following the beat of a drum, a number of strangely dressed orcs approached the front of the formation in a mad dance. Shamans, perhaps. Most likely, this was how they bestowed courage and blessings upon their soldiers.
It had been a mere week since I was summoned to this world, and I was already set to challenge the enemy army.
The orcs looked little different from those I’d seen in other worlds. They were small, about chest height to an average human, but solidly built. Their fearsome faces looked like some freakish cross between a monkey and a pig, with drool dribbling down the tusks that protruded from their lower jaws.
According to the priests who had summoned me, orcs were a foul race birthed into the world by an evil god. They told me, “An orc is about as intelligent as a dog and falls a little short of humans in speed and power. Duking it out one-on-one with sticks, even a common farmhand would come out the victor.”
And apparently that was it—just like other orcs I knew of. However, they reproduced at a fearsome speed, so they were slowly overwhelming humanity by sheer force of numbers.
Still, there are plenty of ways to deal with a foe that can boast of nothing but numbers. As a veteran who’d saved twelve worlds already, I was sure that this would be a cinch.
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I hummed a merry tune as the black-clad army took its position across the field. They totaled around ten thousand, give or take. This didn’t trouble me; in fact, there were fewer of them than I had anticipated. Rather, the issue was that their movements were highly unified. They were clearly an army.
This was the opposite of what I’d been told to expect. We were supposed to be fighting a horde of beasts no smarter than dogs, whose only advantage was pure numbers—small fry easily dispersed with my hero’s powers. Could it be that they were unified under that so-called evil god? I’d gotten the impression that he was a myth, not an actual threat.
Still, it was a foreign world. There was nothing unusual about gods being real—I’d killed a few in my day. That said, if there was some mysterious entity out there who was able to manipulate so many individuals, no doubt they must boast fearsome power. It was starting to look like my duty in this world was to defeat that being. A harsh trial, yes, but not an impossible one. It’s actually easiest when my heroic duty is laid out plain and simple.
“Finally found you.” Sir Rigel, dressed head to toe in heavy plate armor, drew his horse near. He was captain of the dragon riders and boasted the title Lord of the Silver Blade, but today, of all days, he carried not his prized silver sword but an incredibly mundane piece of steel.
Once his horse was lined up next to mine, he apologized for the discourtesy of not lifting his visor to address me. “After all, it’s quite a pain to contain my beard.”
Sir Rigel was exceedingly religious. Ever since he lost his son, who was a fellow dragon rider, he had clung firmly to his god’s teachings, which forbade putting a razor to his face. It was due to his faith that he supported me, the supposed Hero sent by God, before anyone else did. He’d even taken on a sort of caretaker role. In fact, he was the one who had afforded me my equipment and horse for this campaign.
Gaining the support of someone so influential this early on was definitely a promising sign. In the worlds I’d been summoned to before, I’d met people who didn’t trust me in the slightest—even sometimes the very people who brought me there. I could hardly count how often I’d been sent off to fight some demon lord without proper backing.
“The battle will begin soon. Please return to camp.”
Sir Rigel urged me to turn to watch the allied forces of humanity taking shape. My first glance wasn’t entirely reassuring. They were making a huge ruckus about how someone was stationed a little farther ahead last time and about how someone couldn’t stand having certain other someones lined up right beside them. An argument over whether someone had bumped someone else with a shield was quickly escalating into a duel.
A plethora of different crests adorned the banners over their heads. There had to be over a hundred. Beneath them clamored the knights clad in lamellar armor, which is made of joined metal strips. The crests on their shields were even more varied than their flags.
Our forces boasted three thousand five hundred cavalry. Incidentally, the horses here were quite a lot larger, heavier, and firmer than the ones in my world, and each had a pair of sharp horns growing from its head. I thought they looked more like bulls. Protected by an apron-like piece of armor in front, they could make full use of their astounding leg strength to make a mighty charge.
Nearly all the knights straddling these steeds wore a helmet in the shape of the head of a beast. They resembled a devil’s legions more than an order of justice. Either way, they certainly looked impressively strong.
We had roughly an equal number of foot soldiers behind the cavalry. They remained on standby in uneven formations. Their armor consisted of whatever they could get their hands on, while their weapons ranged from halberds to spears, from axes to swords, from bows to crossbows, and even included some grass sickles and pot lids. They were a mishmash of attendants, mercenaries, and conscripted farmhands, likely not the most reliable people to have on your side in a fight. For what it was worth, they had at least been divided between those with projectiles and those without.
We were trotting through a gap in the formation when I asked Rigel, “The enemy is quite numerous. Will we be all right?”
“Our numbers are nothing to scoff at either. Normally, there would be nothing to be concerned about, but…” The old man fell silent for a moment, clearly worried.
I urged him to continue with a glance.
“I presume those are just a diversion. Their main forces must be concealed behind the hills.”
“The priests told me that orcs are just beasts without intellect.”
“They become incredibly shrewd when it comes to war, and war alone. Take care not to take the priests’ words to heart, lest they catch you off guard.”
I didn’t expect Sir Rigel to be critical of the temple. We hadn’t known each other long, but I had never seen him skip a prayer before a meal. Whenever a sacred word passed his lips, his expression was the epitome of seriousness.
“I didn’t expect to hear that from you,” I said.
“It is not the priests I pray to.”
I see.
Sending scouts would be our best bet to confirm his suspicions. However, there was forest to the right of the hill and wetlands to the left. That limited our chance of getting a good visual.
“We’d be able to immediately spot an ambush if we had our dragons,” Rigel mumbled, frustrated.
Apparently, not long before I was summoned, the dragons entered their breeding season, which came once every few decades. During that period, every able dragon would gather at the Dragon Peak. Right now, they were probably all doing their best to find a mate. And thanks to that, the dragon riders who Rigel was so proud of had been reduced to mere horsemen.
That said, they were not going to expend their valuable dragon riders as if they were the common cavalry. The dragon riders were stationed at the main camp to guard the priests who would carry out the rites of war.
“But after we’ve gathered all the lords and their armies, we’ll disgrace the princess if we return without engaging in a single battle.”
The princess he spoke of was Princess Liana, the supreme commander of this operation. She was also called the Princess Knight. While she was young and seemed popular among the lords, I’d learned that strained class relations were found in every world.
My thoughts were interrupted by the loud bellow of a horn.
“Looks like the preparations are complete.”
We spurred our horses the rest of the way.