The Impossible Defense

No, quite the opposite. Saranya was now worried to death.

An immense, ceaseless pressure surged towards her, making it difficult to breathe. She felt an overwhelming urge to scream into Paresha’s embrace at any moment.

Relinquishing authority to her master and delegating Vero’s subsequent governance to her comrades were merely minor tasks. The true, immediate catastrophe, however, was the demonic invasion directly assaulting them.

Kaelan was supremely confident in defending against the demonic disaster. The young witch’s method involved fortifying Vero into a secure sanctuary using barrier magic.

Saranya, of course, wanted to trust her master. Yet, after enduring the events at sea and, more critically, witnessing the enemy firsthand, her assessment of the situation had become profoundly pessimistic.

The enemies that had emerged this time were demons, not mindless fiends. The birth of intelligent, humanoid demons within the disaster completely altered its nature. This so-called ‘demonic disaster’ could no longer be accurately termed as such; it was an organized, planned invasion launched by an alien race.

This was war.

The enemies they first encountered were merely an advance force, not necessarily the strongest of their adversaries. However, Saranya was painfully aware of their own limited capabilities. The Monster was Vero’s most formidable naval power, and Kaelan aboard the Monster represented their strongest individual combatant.

Despite this, the enemy had inflicted heavy losses upon them. Even the most skilled half-elf witch, Kaelan, had been drawn into a grueling battle with precious few advantages.

This highly localized, small-scale naval engagement had already pushed her stress levels to their breaking point. What, then, would the main event on land entail?

If the enemy were to assault Vero from both sea and land, how could its people possibly defend themselves?

Vero City was merely a coastal trading hub, rich in resources and boasting excellent fortifications. Yet, it remained just a city. In an era where imperial control waned and local powers were fragmented, a lone city, even with the tallest and thickest walls, ultimately possessed its limits.

Vero had no strategic depth, no avenues of retreat. Beyond unreliable irregular forces like sailors and mercenaries, there remained only a populace of pampered commoners.

Now, she realized that under these very conditions, they were likely facing an invasion force of a national scale. This situation was even direr than the Northern Reaches campaign during the initial stages of the demonic disaster. Defending Vero was, strategically, an impossible feat.

How could they fight?

The only answer was that there was no answer.

The demonic disaster was insurmountable. Those beautiful, noble, and despair-inducingly powerful demons were equally unconquerable. She could change nothing. Vero would fall, just like any other city targeted by the fiends, just like her own homeland.

The conclusion was starkly evident.

Saranya’s will faltered, her body growing slack. Her conviction, sense of responsibility, honor, and even that faint trace of pride — all the qualities that had once sustained her, allowing her, a legion commander, to stand tall amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood — were dissipating. All that remained was the most conservative, most cowardly thought:

“I… I want to live… I want to survive… Paresha… you must survive with me too…”

The will to survive, a maggot embedded in the human brain, began to writhe and contort madly once stimulated. It would corrupt and drain righteous souls, transforming good people into devils.

Saranya’s icy blue eyes lost focus, their brilliance turning hollow and eerie. Slowly, she raised a hand to her lips, nervously biting at her fingernails until her fingertips were raw and bleeding. As the metallic tang of blood filled her nostrils, her lips involuntarily twisted and twitched.

The ship swayed.

Below deck, in a dark, cramped, and foul-smelling cabin, a base and utterly debased wretch yearned only to cling to life with her master, and with every other possession she could command.

To live, she simply had to live. What good were responsibility and honor when everyone was dead?

Saranya no longer wished to lose anyone else close to her. She couldn’t fulfill the grand boasts she had made, nor could she protect Vero any longer. Therefore…

Vero City… it was now her bargaining chip. When necessary… she would have to become the very kind of person she had once detested, just like her master…

Her master was right. Kaelan was right! She had to—

“Ah—!”

“Help! Something, there’s something here! Hel—ugh—!”

Through the crack in the wooden door, numerous panicked figures fled past, their piercing screams assaulting Saranya’s ears.

The fiends had entered. There were fiends in the ship’s cabin!

Saranya stiffened, clutching Paresha even tighter. Her fingernails slowly dug into the other girl’s soft, pale back.

“Tsk—”

Paresha winced in pain, a flicker of agony crossing her features. Immediately, however, she curved her lips into a somewhat poignant smile, offering Saranya reassurance.

“You must stay here quietly, alone. Don’t make a sound. Just wait for Lady Kaelan to find you…”

“No… you can’t…!”

“Hehe… with Lady Saranya so injured, I’m afraid she won’t be able to stop Paresha, will she?”

Paresha gently pried Saranya’s hands away, then slowly stood. Grabbing the armed sword from the corner, she turned her back to Saranya, but couldn’t resist glancing back at her once more.

“Thank you, Sister Saranya…”

Paresha offered her thanks, a tiny tear rolling from the corner of her eye, wetting the patch over her other eye. The girl’s short hair, both playful and soft, was edged with a golden halo by the flickering firelight.

Saranya recognized that expression on Paresha’s face—a hint of dependence, a touch of sisterly naivety. Yet, the look in her eyes was far from innocent. Once detected, the girl would abandon her pretense, lick her lips, and fully unleash her greedy gaze.

“Come back… Paresha…”

Paresha didn’t look back at her, nor did she seem to hear her words. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and violently pulled open the wooden cabin door.

“Roar—!”

A roar exploded into the room. The corridor outside had already transformed into a hellscape of severed limbs and splattered gore. Several fish-like fiends, with sharp fangs, gaping maws, and grotesque faces, stomped their webbed feet, savagely tearing at still-breathing sailors with their scythe-like claws.

The appearance of the priestess girl ignited excited roars from the fish-men. Their compound eyes flashed crimson as their slime-covered bodies surged towards her.

Paresha delivered a direct front kick, repelling the fiend closest to the door. Immediately drawing her sword, she spun around and slammed the wooden door shut with a resounding ‘bang’.

“Disgusting beasts, get away from me!!!”

That was the last cry Saranya heard from Paresha.

The sounds of sharp weapons piercing flesh echoed, growing distant, then abruptly ceased.

Silence descended once more. Outside the door, only the low growls of the fish-men remained, accompanied by the ‘plop, plop’ of their webbed feet.

“Uh… wuh… wuh-uh-uh-ah-ah-ah-ah…”

Saranya sobbed, propping herself up with her longsword only to collapse again. She yearned to cast a spell, but her magic was utterly depleted. All she could do was struggle to crawl forward.

Blood loss and the toll of overexertion were taking hold. Her consciousness grew hazy, and the ship’s rocking intensified. She began to lose all sense of time, each crawl forward feeling as if days had passed.

In a moment of delirium, her body slid alongside the foul-smelling, spire-topped iron cage, brimming with filth.

The pool of grime within the cage was disturbingly close. Its shape suggested a mutilated corpse, and a writhing mass of white maggots burrowed through the pulpy flesh, creating circular holes.

****

“So, Legion Commander—”

Hearing the familiar voice, Saranya trembled violently, slowly lifting her head.

“What do you consider these people who died before you?”

Talia sat cross-legged in the center of the iron cage, her eyes gently curved, revealing her canine teeth to Saranya.