The Villain Bought the Female Lead - Ch. 99
Ami’s decision to split the forces into three units and advance resulted in an outcome that wasn’t entirely bad.
Helion’s large-scale unique magic.
The vanguard unit was almost completely annihilated by that brilliant light descending from the sky.
Its range was so vast that if the distance between the units had been just a little narrower, the priest-class Altifes would have been wiped out.
Thud, thud⎯!
As their formation crumbled, the advancing army reached the fortress wall and began clashing with the heroes.
The heroes atop the wall rained down arrows and spells, using all their firepower to stop them.
Those wielding swords and spears engaged the Altifes directly at the foot of the wall, driving their blades into their hearts.
Crimson blood gushed like a flood from the bodies of the red monsters.
The heroes, drenched in blood, became increasingly indistinguishable from the Altifes, blurring the line between human and monster.
The battlefield was saturated with the stench of blood and the foul odor of viscera.
The oppressive heat and deafening roars filled the air.
“Graaaah⎯⎯!”
All races alike screamed out in their own ways.
Though their purposes differed, this heightened their fervor. Their muscles swelled as they sharply targeted their foes.
The remaining Altife forces numbered one archbishop, eight bishops, and 2.000 priests.
In contrast, the defenders of the fortress totaled only 31.
None of the ordinary soldiers of Dortmund were involved in the battle.
The most troublesome aspect of the priest-class Altife was that they could reproduce using human hosts. If the regular soldiers were lined up, they would only become a hindrance or provide an opportunity for the enemy to multiply.
As a result, each hero had to handle at least 50 enemies, simply by numbers alone.
[Kreeeee⎯⎯⎯!]
Finn Troa Toiren.
He, who had enrolled at the bottom of the Academia, was now methodically dealing with the priest-class at the foot of the fortress’ huge wall.
Finn knew well that his skills were inferior to anyone else present. Thus, he didn’t overextend himself, driving his sword into the priest-class enemies he could manage.
At times, the desire to fight a bishop-level opponent, to be of greater help to the heroes, flared up within him—but he suppressed it.
Making a mistake could lead to others getting hurt.
Their mission was not simply to kill the Altifes, but to protect Dortmund.
⎯Slash.
He beheaded another priest-class Altife.
And repeated the process.
However, life didn’t always go according to plan.
Singularity.
One of them, a centaur-like creature combining a human and a horse, had turned its arm into a spear and was now charging at him.
Although classified as a priest-class, this singularity was several times stronger than the standard shape.
For Finn, who was just beginning to walk this path, this was by no means an easy opponent.
Calmly, Finn raised his sword.
“…..”
The surrounding noise faded away.
It was as if only Finn and the charging centaur remained, enveloped in silence.
His aura and strength wouldn’t be enough to pierce the enemy in one blow.
Finn instinctively knew.
But still, he didn’t run.
If his own power was lacking, he would simply turn the enemy’s strength against them. The more dangerous the opponent’s attack, the better a weapon it became.
Thud, thud⎯!
The singularity drew close.
Just as its spear tip was about to touch him.
Finn swiftly sidestepped and swung his sword—not at the distant enemy’s head, but at its horse-like legs.
When Finn severed its front legs.
The creature lost its balance and collapsed to the ground.
Success!
Now, all that remained was to cut off its head, and victory would be his….
“XXX. You’re celebrating over one singularity?”
As the head of the singularity fell to the ground, a voice of mockery reached Finn from a man slaughtering Altifes nearby.
It was the hero Kshanoll, second only to Helion in power on this battlefield.
Surrounding him were the cleanly severed corpses of countless singularities, a stark contrast to the dirty and chaotic battlefield.
Finn said nothing and continued fighting.
It wasn’t that he was ignoring Kshanoll. Kshanoll simply had no interest in Finn, focusing instead on slaughtering the priest-class enemies.
Finn, the weakest among the heroes, had been positioned next to the second-in-command Kshanoll, a measure to prevent any weak spots from forming in the line.
They were located on the right wing of the battlefield.
So far, that front had held without breaking.
“Huff… huff.”
As Finn observed the battlefield, he realized that he was more exhausted than he thought.
The rush of adrenaline had masked the extent of his fatigue. His breathing was labored.
Clenching his teeth, Finn forced his movements to become more efficient. This was not a battlefield where he could afford to stop.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Kshanoll’s movements.
They were truly immaculate.
Though it wasn’t a dance, each of Kshanoll’s actions was beautiful.
And effective.
Devastating.
As his sword sliced through enemies, Kshanoll spoke.
“Hey, idiot. This is a battlefield. If you keep focusing on just one enemy like that, soon enough your head will be rolling on the ground.”
Kshanoll clicked his tongue in disapproval, continuing his scolding.
“Tch. You really don’t know anything, do you? F**k.”
Kshanoll kept cutting down enemies as he distanced himself. Finn took his words to heart.
He was completely right.
There was no time to be happy about defeating a single singularity. There were plenty more enemies just like it on the battlefield.
In the previous fight, Finn had momentarily become too <immersed> in the battle with one opponent and lost awareness of his surroundings.
That was a mistake.
Instead of being pleased with himself for killing a singularity, he should have seen it as a weakness.
He knew this in theory but had failed to apply it in practice.
His words rang true. Finn was, indeed, a fool.
“…..!”
Amidst his self-reproach, as he continued his solitary fight, Finn suddenly sensed the clash of two great forces.
One filled with extreme malice.
The other, excessively pure.
Two completely opposing energies collided.
It could only be Helion and Archbishop Ami. There was no one else on this battlefield capable of emitting such power.
In the center of the battlefield, a duel between the two had begun.
Compared to the intensity of their power, the surrounding carnage seemed like nothing more than a backdrop.
“Urgh⎯!”
As Finn swung his sword, a priest-class Altife sank its teeth into his shoulder. Fortunately, he immediately stabbed his sword into its eye and managed to break free, but blood was gushing out.
His chainmail had been pierced.
In a quick attempt to patch himself up, he cast a healing spell on himself to stop the bleeding.
Though not fully healed, he would still be able to swing his sword without much trouble.
[Krrk, krrrk!]
Sensing that Finn’s momentum had weakened, a group of priest-class enemies targeted him.
Without showing any signs of pain, Finn quickly adjusted his stance.
Must protect.
Absolutely must protect.
This isn’t just about one person.
If we fall here, the right wing’s formation—and even further, Altife will descend upon Dortmund. They will quickly grow in power.
This would be nothing short of a catastrophic disaster.
I will stop them.
No matter what it takes… I will stop them…!
He gripped his weakening resolve along with his sword and swung it.
Even as he grew weary, even as the number of small and large wounds increased.
He pictured Vargan, who was protecting the left wing just like him, and ignited his fragile aura.
***
The left wing, opposite of Finn.
Here, Vargan was continuing the battle while observing the flow of the battlefield. He had been using high-level magic in succession yet showed no signs of fatigue.
Without a speck of flesh or blood staining him, he elegantly disposed of his enemies.
‘The situation on the battlefield isn’t bad.’
Vargan compared the two battlefronts.
The current battlefield was very different from the situation described in the novel.
In the original story, they didn’t help Frikkanrisk and instead chose to exterminate her, leading to a truly dire situation.
Inside Dortmund, Frikkanrisk was rampaging in an attempt to retrieve her son, while outside, Ami’s forces were closing in.
Because of this, the church falsely concluded that Frikkanrisk and Ami had joined forces, but in reality, they had not.
While Frikkanrisk was distracted inside by the hero Craine and Ami’s trap, Ami launched an invasion.
Naturally, the already limited number of heroes was split into two groups to deal with the situation, and Helion’s team must have been overstrained.
Hence, the invincible Helion couldn’t protect Gaon, one of his teammates, and ended up letting him die.
Even this fact alone turned the war significantly in their favor. With the heroes’ forces now fully focused on defense, the situation stabilized remarkably.
But.
Vargan’s assessment that the situation wasn’t bad didn’t end there.
Turning his head slightly, he gazed at the divine beast, spreading her massive wings and freezing all the Altifes around her.
The divine beast, Frikkanrisk, in her full dragon form, looked down upon everything with overwhelming majesty. The air around the dragon was intensely cold.
Due to the conditions of the <Cardinal’s Contract>, she had to protect Dortmund in this war…. more precisely, she had to protect Vargan, but the two were practically synonymous.
Frikkanrisk was a reliable ally and an insurance policy.
Victory in this war was a foregone conclusion.
Vargan wasn’t aiming for a simple victory but a flawless one. Even without her, the story could progress without any losses at this rate.
However, this episode wasn’t over yet.
Unpredictable variables could arise.
Vargan had foreseen this and specified it in his contract with the powerful Frikkanrisk. In return, he could demand massive compensation from the church.
After all, one of the noble Twelve Divine Beasts had helped humans, so naturally, they’d get a share of the spoils.
Just as he was thinking this, Vargan saw a figure diving towards him.
Boom⎯!
A creature struck the ground as if crashing down, causing a gust of wind. It resembled an enraged boar, with its entire body swollen with solid muscle.
Vargan had never seen him before, but he could guess what he was.
A bishop-level being. One that ranked at least in the middle tier.
He looked like an evolved form of an ordinary priest.
His entire body was blood-red, except for his face, which was pale.
While he had wings that looked like they were made of leather, in other ways, he resembled the more human-like bishops.
He was one of Ami’s subordinates.
The bishop, Groven.
Vargan calmly stood in front of Groven. Looking at the hulking figure, he spoke.
He wasn’t at all hurried.
Calmly.
“There still isn’t a wildcard, is there?”
Vargan didn’t refer to Groven as a wildcard. He didn’t consider him a formidable enough monster to qualify as one.
[Don’t resent me, human. This is all your fault for provoking Lord Ami⎯!]
Groven had no time to reflect on Vargan’s evaluation of him. His life was on a time limit, and he was in a rush.
He made a noise resembling the roar of a race car’s exhaust. His already rugged body swelled even larger.
Immediately, he struck with a gigantic fist.
The pressure and size surpassed that of the warrior Yannick, whose strength was often compared to a bear.
Boom⎯!
The snow piled around them exploded like dust. Vargan’s figure was obscured by the white cloud, making it hard to see him. There was no feeling of crushing the opponent. He had likely evaded.
Groven heard Vargan’s voice.
“Your power and speed aren’t bad. You could probably kill a novice hero in one blow.”
Vargan was still calmly analyzing Groven. Though not clearly visible yet, he seemed unharmed. But where was he?
Just as Groven was processing this, he sensed a presence behind him. Quickly, he swung his fist back and turned his body.
[Gone…?]
However, there was nothing.
Not only was Vargan gone, but nothing at all was there.
Then, a cold voice was heard. Slowly, he summoned death with cruel intent.
“But that’s all. Don’t bother me and just disappear.”
Vargan wasn’t behind him but in front of him.
When had he moved? That didn’t matter. What mattered was where Vargan’s hand had reached. The change in Groven’s chest told him everything.
“Decay is truly horrifying.”
Groven couldn’t scream.
There was no time for that.
The curse of decay that had landed in the center of his chest spread across his entire body in an instant, swallowing him up and extinguishing him.
What remained was no longer Groven, but a decayed corpse.
Vargan, having verified the effectiveness of the curse magic he had cast for the first time by imitating Ami’s power, turned his head. For him, this battlefield was a good testing ground.
“What should I try next…?”
It was also a place to obtain fresh experimental materials.