"Goblins, goblins are attacking!"
"Hold the palisade! Shit, don't run! Hold the goddamn palisade!"
"Sefar, you son of a bitch! You better not run, or I'll tear your family apart!"
The village was already in utter chaos. A horde of people had crowded up against the far side of the palisade — some screaming at the top of their lungs for everyone to hold the line, others trying desperately to get as far from the palisade as possible, still others who could do nothing but shriek, and a few picking up stones from the ground in advance of the coming melee. Every conceivable breed of human was contributing to the pandemonium.
We watched the village from a distance. Terraced rice paddies spread out around the village, and while the scenery was pleasant enough, calling it romantic would be a stretch. If only there weren't humans scrambling in a panic across those paddies toward the village, it might have been downright pastoral.
I remarked casually,
"Surprisingly, no one seems to be fleeing."
"There are no folk more stubborn than people who live in the mountains. They're a far cry from the cowards on the plains."
Parsi preened with pride. Was there some sort of rivalry between mountain folk and plains folk? Either way, I couldn't help but let out a wry smile. Humans, it seemed, would always seize on any visible difference and dress it up with a plausible reason to cement it in place.
"They are vagabonds, even among the lower classes,"
Laura said from beside me. She swept her windswept golden hair back with her palm — the gesture was so effortlessly graceful that it made me momentarily forget she was sitting on a donkey. In other words, it was ridiculous. I silently resolved that I would one day procure a proper steed and gift it to her.
"They were driven from the cities by tax collectors and lords, all the way into monster-infested mountain ranges. They are prepared to defend what is theirs by their own hand. The world has made it so that unless they are prepared, they cannot survive."
"Does attacking the villagers trouble your conscience?"
"They drew blades against Your Majesty first. This servant has never learned to show mercy to Your Majesty's enemies."
A reliable answer, as expected.
Around that time, the goblins began cheering of their own accord, without anyone telling them to. It sounded like a flock of hoarse-voiced monkeys performing a chorus that completely ignored pitch and tempo. The goblins stomped their feet to no particular rhythm and sang in some unintelligible language — something along the lines of "Grrgrgrrgrr!" — and grew so carried away that they gesticulated wildly and broke into dance. One of them drummed on a green-hide drum and managed to keep a rough beat. It was a goblin war song.
"A contest of morale first."
"Fascinating. I daresay it's the finest music I've heard to date."
"Forgive the question, my lord, but do you have a particular favorite genre of music?"
"I hate music."
Laura giggled.
The villagers struck back, raising their voices in full throat. Their song was about the bounty of corn harvested from the mountains and their unwavering determination to protect it. Every kind of instrument was mustered, like a festival procession. The musical quality was clearly a step above the goblins'. When the lead singers called out a verse, the majority of villagers echoed the same lines in unison, while those handling instruments punctuated the gaps between phrases.
I realized one astonishing thing. Among the instruments the villagers were using, there was one that resembled a gong. To be perfectly honest, of all instruments, the gong was the one I hated most. I had never been able to fathom what kind of music a gong was supposed to contribute to. But a mystery that had seemed unsolvable in my original world was now solved—the gong was unquestionably an instrument designed specifically for warfare! Even as goblins and humans screamed at each other, the sound of that gong-like instrument cut through all the noise and rang out thunderously across the sky.
"Kill the bastards—smash 'em to death!"
"Heave-ho!"
"Kill the bastards—smash 'em to death—!"
The hill before the village was quickly filled with melody and instrument. Truth be told, calling it a "song" was far too gentle a word—it was practically shrieking.
No, it was just noise.
"How long must we wait?!"
"My sincerest apologies! When human armies clash against one another, there are rules governing even the war songs! There are implicit agreements on what constitutes a win and what constitutes a loss! However, this is my first time witnessing monsters and humans competing through war songs, so I'm afraid I know nothing of the matter!"
"Parsi!"
"Simple as can be!"
Parsi answered in an enormously loud voice.
"We just keep going until one side drops from exhaustion!"
Now that was a beautifully simple rule. If I didn't have to keep listening to this godforsaken noise, I might have even praised whoever came up with it.
"And what if it drags on too long?!"
"If it drags on, then we just keep belting it out! If you're bored, why not break out a dance or two? The goblins are already going wild!"
True to Parsi's words, the goblins had already broken into a full group dance. I swear, no matter how you looked at it, that was a ritual performed by warlocks summoning a great demon. Jump into the middle of that and shake my hips? I'd rather die.
Fortunately, contrary to my fears, the morale battle ended quickly. The villagers numbered roughly fifty at most. They were far too few to handle nearly a hundred goblins. As time passed, the human voices were steadily drowned out by the goblin war songs, until finally, only the sound of that wretched gong could be heard from the village side. They were exhausted.
─ Krrrrrrrr!
─ Kiruuk! Ker, kirurrurrreek!
The goblins let out victory cries. They'd been roaring for quite some time too, yet not a trace of fatigue showed on any of them. War was a strange thing — once you seized momentum, the thrill of it made you forget all about exhaustion. Conversely, when you lost that momentum, stress and fatigue and the crushing weight of it all would drag you down, and your combat power would plummet. That was exactly what had happened to the villagers.
The militia members had been drafted as an adventuring party.
Their numbers were already insufficient compared to the monsters.
And on top of that, their morale had tanked.
"A victorious army first secures victory, then seeks battle." A winning force creates the conditions for triumph before the fight even begins. Not a single drop of blood had been spilled in this battle yet, but anyone could see that the outcome had already been decided.
"My lord, the time has come."
"Mm."
"A word before the battle, if you would."
I turned around.
The entire goblin horde came into view at a glance. It was because of how small goblins were. The blue hillside was teeming with dark-green goblins, packed together and writhing. They looked just like caterpillars squirming around.
I tore open a scroll containing an amplification spell. A transparent barrier materialized in front of my face. I activated the Acting skill. Then I roared.
"Warriors!"
Over two hundred pairs of eyes turned my way. I paused for a beat, then continued the speech.
"Look at that fence!"
I spread my arms toward the village. The villagers were quietly listening to my words too.
"Right now, the humans of the mountain range have audaciously built a fence, as though this land belonged to them. They've erected settlements and wooden palisades, and before you know it they're acting as though they own the mountain range… Was the master of this mountain range ever human?"
─ Krrrrrrreek!
─ Kiik! Kiiruuk!
The goblin horde jumped up and down like agitated monkeys at my question. The beasts' rage rippled through the air. As the Demon Lord, I could understand their words without any filter.
"Goblins existed before humans ever raised fences! Goblins existed before humans ever tilled the land! Before humans dared set foot on the sacred slopes of this mountain, goblins — goblins had already been here for hundreds, thousands of years!"
— Ki-ru-ru-ru-ru-ru!
"Good. Then I shall ask you, the proud people of this mountain range."
I raised both arms high.
"Do you love the sacred mountain range!"
— Ker-reuk! Ker-reuk! Ker-reuk!
The goblins stomped their feet in unison, answering my call.
I roared with everything I had.
"Are you the warrior clan that commands this mountain range!"
— Ker-reuk! Ker-reuk! Ker-reuk!
"Will you punish those arrogant pig-spawn who have violated our great territory!"
The goblins howled in response.
"Yes! Kill them all!"
I clenched my fist tight.
"Never tolerate those filthy pig-spawn who mud the dirt of our dining table! Flay their skin! Tear open their muscles! Sever their guts and hack off their heads! Prove who the true master of this mountain range is! Make them realize they are nothing but insolent pig-spawn who know their place! Make them remember who is the predator — and who is the prey!"
I spoke with my back turned to the vast goblin army.
At that very moment, just as we had prearranged, Laura tore the magic scroll. It was a scroll inscribed with a mid-scale summoning spell. Along with a beam of brilliant white light, a golem corps materialized. When they all struck the ground at once, a faint tremor rumbled through the earth. The goblin army roared to the heavens at the sight of reinforcements, while the humans screamed.
I bellowed one final command.
"All forces — charge!"
─ Khuwaaaaaa!
─ Kkirurururut!
The roar that erupted was grander than any war cry that had resounded before. The golem corps marched forward at the vanguard. When the golems swung their heavy stone fists, the palisade shattered and splintered like matchsticks.
"R-run!"
"If the line breaks, we're dead! If the line breaks, we're dead—!"
"Son of a bitch! There's no way we can hold them!"
"No! Stay on the barricade! Hold the damn fence whether you live or die, you worthless bastards!"
That single blow shattered the villagers' will to fight entirely. A golem corps with an average level exceeding seven was no foe that stubborn mountain villagers could hope to contend with.
If it had only been goblins, they could have held the line for a while, stabbing spears through the gaps in the palisade. But they hadn't prepared for anything like golems. Once the golems demolished the barricade like battering rams, goblins poured through the gaps in a flood — like a dam breaking open.
That was the end of it. Some villagers turned and fled without looking back. Seeing that, even those who had stayed behind and meant to fight to the last lost their will. Those trying to flee and those trying to hold their ground got tangled up in chaos. And with goblins and golems charging in on top of it, it was disaster compounding disaster.
"Save us—kuhk!"
"Uweeeeeng, uweeeeng!"
There was no mercy in their hands. I had authorized looting for the goblin squads. For goblins, looting meant above all else tearing into human flesh. It didn't matter whether they were young men, women, the elderly, or children — the slaughter was indiscriminate.
I walked slowly through the scene of carnage. Laura and Parsi flanked me on either side. Parsi occasionally stuck out her tongue in revulsion and horror. But she kept up without falling behind, which told me her nerve was far from ordinary. Her appearance still made it hard to believe, but Parsi was fifteen years old.
"Secure the grain warehouse. First squad, head that way. Fourth squad, this way."
Laura issued commands to the golems in quick succession without even breaking stride. Since I had recognized her operational authority, the golems obeyed without a word of complaint. For the record, Laura's expression hadn't changed a single time since the battle began. And — believe it or not — she was sixteen years old.
'Back then, I suppose even the young were more mature.'
I marveled inwardly at the people of this era.
Honestly, the fact that the villagers fought against a numerically overwhelming monster force was remarkable in itself. I had worried they'd flee the moment they saw the goblins, which was why I'd delayed the golem corps' appearance until just before the battle. Humans were more tenacious than I'd expected. Of course, some did abandon their families and comrades to save their own skins, but they were an exceedingly small minority.
"Great being! Please, at least spare this child!"
A woman burst through the goblin barrier and threw herself prostrate before me. Her right arm was nowhere to be seen — she must have left it behind somewhere — and she clutched a newborn in her left arm.
I stopped in my tracks.
"The child… what did the child ever do wrong! Please…!"
"Laura."
No further explanation was needed.
Laura drew the longsword at her waist and drove it through the woman's chest in a single thrust. The blade pierced through the woman's slight breast and out through her back. Laura yanked the sword free with a swift motion. Droplets of blood spattered the ground. The woman collapsed and lay there repeating her pleas and prayers until her last breath faded.
I left the woman's corpse and the infant wailing in her arms behind me and walked on.
Parsi pressed tight against my side.
"Hey, was there really a need to kill a wee lad like that?"
"There was no need to kill."
The sight of humans being slaughtered en masse was undeniably sad. It could well be called a tragedy. Especially the maternal love of that woman who had desperately shaken off the goblins and reached me despite having one arm severed — that ached at my very heart.
But my sentiments aside, this was a battle between monsters and humans. As the leader of the monsters, I could not afford to be seen defending humans.
With a distinctly political intent behind my words, I spoke.
"But there's no need to go out of your way to save them, either."
============================ Author's Afterword ============================
There are those who point out worldbuilding mistakes or typos I've made, and while I don't reply to individual comments, I correct them as soon as I spot them. Thank you as always.