Chapter 715: War? (2)
In Zone A, at the city hall of Landa...
There was a man there who was particularly lucky. You could tell from his age and the insignia on his shoulder.
The man was in his late thirties, and on his shoulder gleamed a single star—the rank of Brigadier General.
In other words, the man was on a rapid path to success.
This was an era when colonial expansion was in full swing, making it easier to achieve promotion through merit. Yet, even with such a favorable environment, his rise was exceptional.
Traditionally, there were two main paths to rapid promotion.
One was through outstanding personal ability. It wasn't a bad path—in fact, it was considered the best option by most, as people preferred accomplishments gained by their own abilities, without relying on others. After all, what could be more admirable or sound than achievements seized through one’s own efforts?
But that was just an illusion, a perspective for the uninformed. The man didn’t think much of this method. It was inefficient and exposed one to too much scrutiny and risk from competitors.
Thus, he preferred another approach—aligning himself with the right people.
"Edward X."
He thought of the kingdom's crown prince.
The prince was known by many unflattering epithets: the kingdom’s troublemaker, a notorious womanizer, a provocateur. The crown prince had far more shortcomings than virtues, with the only redeeming factor being his youth. After all, young people could sometimes change in ways nothing short of miraculous.
And, as if blessed by the heavens, Edward X had indeed transformed drastically of late, overturning past negative perceptions with extraordinary achievements.
His distinctive, overly cheerful demeanor remained, yet he now fulfilled his duties diligently, delivering results time after time. As a result, even the capital’s nobles, politicians, and capitalists who had previously held unfavorable views of the prince now sided with him.
Rumors circulated that the royal blood sleeping within him had finally awakened.
The man seized this opportunity, aligning himself with Edward X, the next crown prince. This was his first stroke of luck.
Indeed, a soldier must know whom to stand behind.
His second stroke of luck was that he had maneuvered well enough to join Edward X’s inner circle, albeit at the very edge—a core group wielding absolute decision-making power within the organization.
Thanks to this, the man came to understand how Edward X, once branded a troublemaker, could achieve such feats in a short span.
The secret lay in his "fingers." Not his literal fingers, but those of Black Hand.
Astoundingly, Edward X had joined hands with none other than the Grand Black Magician, Puppet, the most powerful among the black magicians.
The crown prince of the United Kingdom, which governed the widest territories in the world, had made an alliance with Puppet.
Upon first learning this, the man had felt shock, terror, and disbelief. It was as if he had peered into the deepest abyss. Yet, those emotions soon faded, for he realized how foolish they were once he fully grasped what it meant to partner with Puppet.
Since joining hands with Puppet, everything had gone smoothly.
His rank rose rapidly, and every endeavor went without a hitch.
An example was the mission to topple the gangs and military factions that held power in small cities, which was rebranded as a mission to "save Landa."
Thanks to this, he now enjoyed unimaginable honor and authority.
He dissolved the corrupt city council, confined corrupt council members to their homes, and purged the city of subversive comic strips, radio dramas, and news broadcasts, beautifying the world with each act.
With a mere cough and a haughty gesture, he could bring tremendous pleasure to his mind—something far surpassing that of alcohol, drugs, or women for those who hadn’t experienced it.
But soon came news that threatened to shatter that pleasure. Reports arrived that the 606th Defense Regiment, which had been attacking Zone Z, had become combat-ineffective.
The 606th, which had successfully subdued Zone Y and moved to Zone Z, had been ambushed and reported being unable to continue the mission.
There were no fatalities, but all weaponry and equipment had been destroyed, and over a quarter of the soldiers were exhibiting symptoms of shell shock.
Astonishingly, despite sustaining such damage, they hadn’t seen even a shadow of the assailants, let alone identify them.
It sounded like something out of a ghost story, but fortunately, they soon discovered the culprit’s identity.
"It's Dave. Woodsman Dave. I’m almost certain."
A mysterious woman raised by Puppet smugly spoke up.
“Are you certain?”
“Believe it or not, it’s up to you,” she replied, leaving as if her job were done with that one sentence.
Damn, just when everything was going well, Dave had to show up. The one rumored to have defeated the Pied Piper—a monster. As the man pondered how to handle the situation, a new report came in.
Woodsman Dave had attacked a prison, and the details were grim.
He had stormed in, openly challenging the public authorities and even murdering prisoners and guards inside the facility.
It was clearly an act of terrorism, and further, it was treason... treason against the royal family.
Knock, knock.
At that moment, a knock came at the door. It was his aide, bringing a report from the reconnaissance agent from the Bureau of Security.
"According to the reconnaissance, Woodsman Dave is targeting this city hall."
“Damn it—!”
The man cursed inwardly. The information Puppet had just provided aligned exactly.
That insane report that Woodsman Dave was coming alone to city hall, where the kingdom’s army was stationed, was true.
What kind of confidence was this? No matter how many stories there were of him defeating the Pied Piper, this was beyond reason.
The man, who hadn’t seen the Pied Piper himself, thought as much.
Though he had heard of the tale of a man sweeping through Landa single-handedly, he hadn’t seen any surviving footage to believe it entirely.
“Puppet didn’t provide any proper information either. He just said to focus on containment, disregarding civilian casualties. Though we were well-supported, that order itself might be a hint.”
If it were impossible for Dave to fight an army alone, such an order wouldn’t have been given.
At that moment, he felt the hair on his body stand on end, his instincts recognizing that this bizarre situation was real.
If things went wrong, he might bring an irredeemable disgrace upon the kingdom’s army, and worse, he could lose the precious connection he had secured with the crown prince.
This was a catastrophe that must be prevented at all costs.
“Prepare for full deployment.”
“Pardon?”
“I said, prepare for full deployment. Summon all the military druids, and request cooperation from the Bureau of Security and the Defense Corps.”
The aide’s expression turned to shock, as he had anticipated. After all, mobilizing all forces in Landa, including those under the Bureau and Defense Corps, just to catch one black magician seemed excessive.
Depending on how it was viewed, this move alone could damage the military’s prestige.
“I know what you’re thinking. But we must be fully prepared. The enemy isn’t some back-alley fixer. He’s a nefarious black magician with ties to the Black Hand, a black magic organization. We must view him as the unifying point for all black magicians, not just as an individual.”
“Oh...”
The aide’s eyes widened as he immediately understood the shifted perspective.
“What’s more, the intel suggests he can control zombies and corpse puppets. We mustn’t assume he’s alone... it’s possible he’s behind the army of the dead.”
“Understood!”
The man followed Puppet’s instructions to escalate the situation as much as possible. Seeing the aide completely taken in by the pretense reassured him that he had acted wisely.
“Good. Contact the Tower of Magic as well. Our military magicians are stationed there. Issue a summoning order. The entire tower should mobilize.”
“Yes, Commander!”
Just as the aide was saluting and preparing to move, another person came running in, panic evident in their wide eyes, pale complexion, and cold sweat. The timing, or perhaps his instincts as a soldier, made the man certain of the news before the other even spoke; his gut told him it was the worst-case scenario.
“Urgent report! Woodsman Dave... has attacked the Landa Defense Corps headquarters!!”
A lie? A diversion tactic? Words and theories flashed through his mind.
“The damage report?”
“Casualties... casualties are...”
“Hurry up and answer!!”
“N-none, sir! Not a single death!”
...
While the Royal Army’s main headquarters was in disarray from Oliver’s unexpected actions, similar turmoil unfolded within the Tower of Magic.
In hindsight, it was only natural.
As one of Landa’s most prominent institutions, the Tower maintained close ties with the city itself.
Officially, the Tower and the city were known to compete fiercely for control over Landa, but that was only half the truth.
They did indeed monitor and compete with each other, yet they never crossed the line, as doing so would benefit neither side.
Landa’s core industry, the magic industry, was intimately tied to the Tower, and the city did not wish for the Tower’s downfall. Likewise, the Tower did not wish to see the city falter, for the city’s outer structure served as a protective shell for the Tower against external threats.
Some staunch wizards rejected this notion, claiming that wizards were capable of protecting themselves, but the Tower’s leadership thought otherwise. Outwardly, they appeared to clash with the city, but they had, in fact, been walking in step with it all along.
In a sense, they existed in a state of adversarial coexistence—seeming to turn their backs on each other, yet standing shoulder to shoulder.
And as is common with such symbiosis, one side’s collapse inevitably affected the other, which was directly tied to the Tower’s current unrest.
“How is this even the Tower of Magic? All I see are these outsiders who didn’t even learn magic here!”
“Exactly! It’s like it only appears to be the Tower on the outside!”
“Most of them are military mages from the kingdom!”
Thomas Nielsen, the One Master of the Mjölnir Sub-School, and Burke Post, the Tower’s administrative head—both of whom had been sidelined due to injuries during the Dead Army invasion—stood up, outraged after hearing about the Tower’s current condition.
“There was no choice. We lost so many wizards last time that there were too many vacant positions. Had we done nothing, the entire Tower might have crumbled.”
“We’re only here because we were asked. So watch what you say.”
“Besides, even the Royal Army’s wizards hold honorary Grand Master titles within the Tower.”
Those who had taken control in the midst of the Tower’s chaos—external wizards recruited by Tilda, the One Master of the Skadi Sub-School—responded in defense.
Their words weren’t entirely wrong.
When the Dead Army attacked the Tower, many leaders and key members of the schools had been cut down by sudden onslaughts of corpse puppets, leaving the Tower severely weakened.
However, Tilda’s staffing policies had overstepped the line. Even positions that could barely be filled with Tower wizards were instead handed to outsiders.
Such practices were unimaginable when the Archive was still present.
Amidst this confusion, debates between Tilda’s supporters and their opponents continued endlessly, though that was about all they could do.
As previously mentioned, the number of Tower-trained wizards was low, and many had yet to fully recover from injuries, putting them at a disadvantage in terms of power and influence.
Tilda was well aware of this and simply allowed things to unfold, seeing no need to spark conflict. She found it preferable to let her opposition trip over their own feet.
Then, news of Oliver’s movements reached the Tower. The military wizards in the Tower, positioned by Puppet, began to move even before he could give a formal order.
It was at that moment.
“Hold on a moment.”
“Don’t get in our way.”
“I’m not stopping you. Just wait until an official cooperation request comes from the military. For now, aren’t you part of the Tower? The Tower doesn’t act rashly like this.”
Just as the military wizards were about to disrupt the Tower’s traditional way of conducting affairs, returning Tower wizards intervened.
There was a slight edge of hostility, yet the objection was reasonable.
However, rather than complying, the military wizards showed defiance. Many of them came from traditional schools of magic that had been disregarded by the Tower as outdated institutions.
The result was that the Tower grew even more chaotic, and right then, a formal mobilization order from the Royal Army arrived alongside news of Oliver’s assault on the administrative center.
The stationed military wizards attempted to rally the entire Tower under their authority, but the situation did not unfold as they wished.
“You...”
A stunned voice cut through the noise.
At the critical moment when they were supposed to act, a red-skinned wizard—a figure impossible to ignore for any wizard—appeared, as if he had timed his entrance perfectly.
The red-skinned wizard’s name was Kevin Dunbar. He stood before them and proclaimed:
“I am Kevin Dunbar, professor of the Elemental Sub-School at the Tower, and disciple of the Archive. I’ve come to inform you all that I am now the successor of the Archive.”