SWNOVELXO Ch. 11
Chapter 11. Mercenary Band (3)
[Warrior’s Insight]
A trait that allowed me to acquire observed skills at 100% proficiency.
Anyone could see it was an overpowered trait without needing an explanation.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say this single trait shaped my entire strategy for this run.
But then…
[Warrior’s Binding]
[Low chance to bind enemies defeated in battle.]
[Bound enemies can be summoned as minions.]
[First defeated enemy type receives a 100% binding chance bonus.]
[Cannot be used on hero characters.]
[Applies to kills by subordinate units as well.]
This took it to another level.
Not just copying skills, but entire enemy units?
In a strategy game like Warlord Conquest?
Thud. Thud.
Focus.
The heavy footsteps echoing from afar snapped me out of my thoughts.
As expected from a game where almost everything was random, reconnaissance missions often triggered various events by chance.
The most typical was a random encounter like this one.
“Three Necro Ogres. Zombies and skeletons… roughly eighty.”
Was this the Inferno difficulty modifier?
The odds weren’t in our favor.
Normally, random encounters in this region involved twenty to thirty zombies or skeletons at most.
Eighty was a lot, but Necro Ogres were on a whole different level.
“Necro Ogres…”
“Three of them, not just one?”
Three-meter-tall hulks covered in rotting flesh, tendons, and entrails.
Limbs and heads protruding haphazardly swayed grotesquely with their rough movements.
The repulsive presence, felt even from a distance, tied directly to the [Fear Induction] trait of Necro Ogres.
It was only natural that the mercenary band grew somewhat restless.
“We’re… we’re all gonna die!”
“Shut up, you bastard!”
“Argh!”
The silver lining was that our band hardly had any apprentice mercenaries.
Thanks to Brol’s megaphone marketing, a third of our members were veteran mercenaries.
Veterans came with mental fortitude traits honed by battlefield experience.
The most experienced among them, Brol, stepped up and started shouting.
“Quiet down, you sorry bastards! We’ve got a knight with us! And a mage commander!”
That was half-true, half-false, but it wasn’t really the issue.
In the Burken defense battle, Olif managed to take on four Necro Ogres, but that was with the support of crossbowmen and riflemen.
Now, we didn’t just lack support—we were outnumbered by zombies and skeletons.
Fortunately, we still had some leeway.
Five hundred meters was enough distance to assess our chances.
I calmly asked myself questions.
First, the worst-case scenario.
“Did the Vampire Archduke revive or something?”
Highly unlikely.
The enemy numbers were too small for that.
So, fleeing was half-ruled out as an option.
Running might be the right call if victory was impossible…
But avoiding every battle wasn’t the answer.
In fact, that approach would make it harder for a mercenary band to survive long-term.
In this chaotic world, spiraling toward a war-torn abyss, that was especially true.
“If we fight, what are our actual odds?”
It depended on the enemy’s forces.
Zombies, skeletons, and Necro Ogres mixed together meant these weren’t just wandering undead.
A necromancer controlling them as a unit was likely nearby.
So, the odds hinged on the next question.
“What’s the necromancer’s level?”
The summoning spell for Necro Ogres was a level 4 spell.
But with the vampire race’s [Blood Sacrifice] ritual, higher-level spells could be cast through human sacrifices.
That’s why [Infernal Meteor], a level 7 high-tier spell, wasn’t uncommon in battles against vampires.
Of course, such workaround spells weren’t perfect.
As evidenced by what I saw now.
“Their entrails are shriveled. Muscles blackened and dead. The skeleton ranks are disorganized… They’re struggling to control the Necro Ogres.”
The closer they got, the clearer it became.
These were nothing like the fresh Necro Ogres that breached the fortress gate.
This was proof the necromancer’s skill was lacking.
I didn’t know where they got the sacrifices to pull this off…
“Level 2. Level 3 at best.”
We had a chance.
No, a high chance.
The moment I ran the calculations in my head, I drew my weapon in front of the restless group and spoke.
“The enemy: one necromancer, three Necro Ogres, and a number of zombies and skeleton soldiers.”
Staff in my left hand.
Sword in my right.
“Judging by the undead’s condition, the necromancer’s level isn’t high. Neutralize the minions and find the hidden one to take them out.”
I raised [Shield] like a barrier.
Pointing my sword at the approaching enemies.
“Sir Olif takes two Necro Ogres. I’ll handle the third.”
That alone shifted the mood among the soldiers who’d fought with me.
Word of me taking down a Necro Ogre at the fortress gate had already spread among them.
“Brol, Karen. Command the troops as I instruct.”
Shared battle experience and hearsay sparked a small hope.
[I activated Lord’s Unyielding Mind.]
The eloquence bonus of Lord’s Unyielding Mind solidified that hope into confidence.
“Spearmen and swordsmen, forward! Form the Spear Wall!”
“All you melee lot, gather around me! No, damn it, in a line!”
“Archers and crossbowmen, to the rear! Load and stand by!”
“Fall back! Just load for now!”
[The infantry activated Spear Wall.]
[The archers activated Volley: Standby.]
The troops, trained over the past few days, moved as commanded.
This was safe enough.
Morale loss was fully prevented, and their movements were solid.
Meanwhile, the enemies were closing in fast.
Eyes that had seen tactical screens thousands of times could estimate distance even in reality.
What was five hundred meters when they crossed the ridge was now under four hundred.
We were ready.
Soon, they entered three hundred meters.
The maximum range for crossbows.
I extended my sword and shouted.
“Fire!”
[The archers activated Volley.]
***
Of the sixty mercenary band members, twenty-one were ranged units.
It wasn’t quite the hail of arrows you’d expect from a crossbow brigade…
But firing multiple volleys was at least a drizzle.
Like this.
Whoosh!
Bolts and arrows cut through the air.
Undead struck in the head or joints began to fall one by one.
By the time the enemy vanguard closed to within a hundred meters, their numbers had dropped by two-thirds.
Unfortunately, the leading Necro Ogres were all unscathed.
Groooar!
“Fire! Don’t stop shooting!”
[The archers activated Free Fire.]
Thwack! Thwack!
Over half the arrows hitting the Necro Ogres bounced off.
Even the few that struck didn’t deal meaningful damage.
Vampire-raised undead didn’t go down easily unless you targeted the head, where their will was concentrated.
The problem was that Necro Ogres had thick skulls and a pattern of shielding their heads during gunfire.
By now, they were almost upon us.
Their size meant they were fast.
“Cease fire! Sir Olif!”
I rushed forward with Olif to the front line.
The plan was simple:
Olif and I would draw the Necro Ogres as far away as possible.
Meanwhile, the mercenary band would deal with the trailing undead.
It was the same logic as cavalry handling cavalry and infantry handling infantry.
“[Lightning Arrow]!”
A bolt of lightning first.
Crackle!
The stench of charred flesh filled the air as chunks of meat were blasted off.
Groar?!
A chunk of flesh fell from the arm shielding its head.
The beast flinched, stopped running, and whipped its head toward me.
…Its eyes were crazed.
Looks like I pulled its aggro perfectly.
Groooar!!
I immediately turned and ran.
The goal was to keep it away from the main force, putting as much distance as possible between it and our troops.
But its massive size meant massive strides, and it caught up quickly.
A shadow loomed over me as I ran.
It swung its massive fist down.
[I activated Shield.]
[I activated Imperial Knight Swordsmanship.]
Boom!
…Thought my arm would fall off.
Even knowing the pattern and parrying, my shoulder ached.
Thanks to Imperial Knight Swordsmanship, I deflected it at the right angle, reducing the impact.
As I quickly gained distance, a whooshing sound grazed my ear.
[I activated Ironclad Defense.]
Bang!
My arm moved instinctively.
Glancing to the side, a bolt bounced off my shield and rolled on the ground.
Damn it.
Friendly fire.
“Mr. Hanson!”
“S-Sorry…!”
Karen’s sharp shout rang out.
I remembered the name Hanson.
A memorable middle-aged man, an apprentice who carried a crossbow.
His panic was evident even from a distance.
I wanted to run over and smack him upside the head…
“No shooting at the Necro Ogres! Focus on the zombies and skeletons first!”
[I activated Commander’s Roar.]
[I activated Lord’s Unyielding Mind.]
We’d deal with that after winning the battle.
I quickly relayed orders and refocused on the Necro Ogre.
Its stance indicated the next pattern: a charge.
I threw myself to the side.
Rumble!
Rolling clumsily on the dirt, something grazed past me.
It felt like dodging an 8-ton truck charging head-on by a hair’s breadth.
Clang.
I must’ve rolled wrong, as my helmet clashed with my head, causing a dizzying jolt.
I stood immediately, raising my staff.
After a charge, the Necro Ogre’s next pattern was its damage window.
[I activated Lightning Arrow.]
Crackle!
Groooar!
Repeat.
Slam. Charge. Roar followed by rapid punches. Push kick.
I dodged, rolled, and deflected according to the pattern.
To a third party, this back-and-forth, inches from death, might look like a dangerously reckless performance.
But my perspective, moving with confidence, was different.
“Not difficult.”
And that confidence was always grounded in objective fact.
“The sync motions are the same.”
Sync motions referred to the dozens of attack and defense patterns for each unit or hero.
Warlord Conquest was a game about directly commanding the battlefield.
Units clashing, swinging spears and swords, were vividly displayed in real-time throughout the gameplay.
During the Burken defense battle, fighting various enemies, I confirmed that sync motions existed in this world too.
Though, being reality, there were far more attack patterns.
That didn’t matter.
“At least the critical patterns haven’t changed.”
Then my job was simple.
Recall the sync motions for “Necro Ogre vs. Human Hero.”
And replicate only the patterns where the human hero wins.
Of course, my frail physical stats would normally make that impossible…
[I activated Imperial Knight Swordsmanship.]
Luckily, my skills were pretty good.
“Arm swing pattern.”
Whoosh!
I leaned back, narrowly letting the arm pass over my head.
“Stomp. Then grab.”
Boom!
I dodged the reaching hand by a hair’s breadth, then slashed vertically at the grasping claw.
Crunch!
Groooar!
The Necro Ogre roared, its wrist severed.
A quick glance showed Olif expertly holding the aggro of the other two.
Boom!
No, just one now.
One had just fallen.
“Shields—up!”
“Hold!”
[The infantry activated Spear Wall.]
At the main force, the skeleton and zombie horde clashed with the infantry.
“Spread to the flanks! Don’t overlap with our line of fire!”
[The archers activated Free Fire.]
As the enemy pressed against the shield wall, the ranged units on the flanks poured bolts and arrows.
“Hold! Hooold!”
“Watch for friendly fire!”
“Aaagh! My hand…!”
Orders, curses, and screams mingled.
Dirt was churned up, and the stench of earth and blood mixed with the metallic tang as bones and flesh met steel.
“Careful! They’re coming this way!”
Amid the chaos, a few skeletons broke from the ranks, swinging weapons at our ranged units.
Despite the infantry, led by veterans, drawing most of the aggro, it was an unavoidable variable.
“Sir!”
Before major damage occurred, Olif, having dispatched two Necro Ogres, joined the fray.
He swiftly cut down the skeletons and charged into the remaining undead horde.
[The high-ranking knight and infantry activated Hammer and Anvil Tactic.]
While the infantry served as the anvil, Olif struck like a hammer from behind.
Rotting flesh and bones flew as the undead took aura-charged blows to the back.
And soon after.
[I activated Lightning Arrow.]
Crackle!
The Necro Ogre I was handling finally fell, its skull cooked by lightning.
Leaving it behind, I rushed to aid the fight nearing its end.
“The captain’s here!”
“Just hold on a bit longer!”
The remaining zombies were easy.
It was the mercenary band’s first victory.
***
[I activated Warrior’s Binding.]
[Bound defeated enemies.]
[Zombies (2), Skeleton Swordsmen (2), Skeleton Spearmen (1), Necro Ogre (1)]
***
Forty-eight zombies.
Sixteen skeleton swordsmen.
Twenty-one skeleton spearmen.
And three Necro Ogres.
An absurd number of enemies for a freshly formed minimum-sized mercenary band to face…
But we won.
With a pretty decent exchange ratio, too.
“Four lightly injured, three seriously injured. Thankfully, no deaths.”
It was a fight where we could’ve easily lost two or three.
Hearing from Karen that the injured had recovered quickly, I couldn’t help but sigh in relief.
Potions were indeed overpowered.
Even gut wounds or severed limbs could be healed quickly with high-grade regeneration potions.
“Captain, uh… your wallet’s okay, right? Herbs and bandages would’ve been fine. What kind of mercenary band splashes potions on its members…?”
“…It’s fine.”
As Brol said, my purse felt lighter, but still.
In truth, few mercenary bands used potions on regular members.
But I was looking at the long term.
A future where the entire continent would be engulfed in an uncontrollable inferno.
Thinking of that, using potions now was an absolute gain.
To grow the mercenary band into a full-fledged mercenary corps, and eventually my own faction, one thing was critical.
“Trust.”
The trust that I’d always take care of my people.
The belief that following me meant they wouldn’t be treated as expendables.
That kind of trust couldn’t be earned with a hundred words.
It was the kind of loyalty built only through long periods of fighting side by side.
But someone who freely used potions when you were stabbed? That could build trust much faster.
Of course, I wasn’t just thinking about a distant future.
There was another benefit.
Quickly healed soldiers could resume fighting without delay as long as their morale held.
Even right now…
“Look! Over there!”
Whoosh—thud!
Skree!
The battle wasn’t over yet.
A creature burst from the bushes and fell, struck by Karen’s arrow.
Up close, it was a Vampiric Bat, an immature one at that.
Skree! Skreee!
The bat’s eyes glowed red briefly before fading.
It thrashed, snapping the arrow in its side, and began to fly away shakily.
“Should I kill it?”
“No.”
I stopped Karen as she raised her bow.
“It’s been tamed by a necromancer. And Vampiric Bats have a habit of returning to their nest when in danger.”
“…Then.”
“Gather the troops. We follow it.”
The necromancer who attacked us.
It was time to see their face.