Chapter 20: Dialogue Between the Living and the Dead

The forty-thousand-strong army had gathered in Bracada, with supplies fully stocked. General Sanders was well aware of the number of orcs in the Barbaric Highlands. The remaining orcs were mostly young ones that had escaped during previous exterminations and sought refuge in the Saundfest Mountains, totaling no more than one or two thousand. Even if they had banded together and added a few inconsequential big-eared monsters with some rudimentary equipment, the disparity in numbers was overwhelming—tens of times greater. The mages in his army were always the most effective weapon against orcs. General Sanders had no doubt that he could swiftly crush the orc den, as he had become very skilled at this kind of operation over the past decade. His rage surged, and he could hardly wait to hear the orcs' dying screams and to imagine crushing an orc's skull underfoot.

However, even with such confidence, the general did not let his emotions and self-assurance cloud his judgment. When he set out from the south, he had ordered a detachment to reach Bracada as quickly as possible. After a brief rest, they would scout and test the waters regarding the orc city.

After all, war was war; it could mean the lives of millions, affecting the rise and fall of nations. It was not a game that could be recklessly influenced by a general's personal feelings. He understood this well. Since he was a teenager, he had been in life-and-death situations on the battlefield, and for the past twenty years, the empire had been in near-constant conflict with surrounding nations. The war experience and judgment he had gained in that time were unmatched by officers who had only graduated from knight schools. To become a general on the battlefield was not merely about bravery but rather wisdom and calmness. Thus, even with his lion-like temper, he could maintain a level-headed approach when it came to matters of the state.

He also understood that while the orcs did not use magic, their physical strength and combat capabilities were impressive, especially the ogres and werewolves, which no ordinary human could hope to match. If they were well-equipped and employed strategic formations and tactics, they would pose a formidable threat. Before launching an attack, it was essential to gather intelligence about the situation: what equipment the orcs had, their organizational structure, and what tactics they might employ.

The general knew that this battle was crucial. The power struggles within the court had reached a boiling point. The Ernie family was not satisfied with their economic and political dominance; they wanted to seize military power. They had long been plotting to oust him and install one of their own in his place.

Because the King was still young and overly trusting of those who were skilled in flattery and manipulation, military officials had found themselves at a disadvantage in the political arena. If this military operation could be carried out swiftly and successfully annihilate the orc den, the military could regain its standing in court and expel the Ernie family's influence from military affairs entirely.

Conversely, if they failed, the Ernie family would undoubtedly seize the opportunity to claim the military power they had long coveted.

Thus, even though his forces had a clear advantage, the general remained cautious, first dispatching a reconnaissance unit to gather information. However, it was strange that after more than ten days, there had been no word from that unit. A few days ago, he sent out several small scouting parties deeper into the Highlands.

Finally, news arrived today, but it was only from a few soldiers. One new recruit dismounted and shouted, "There's a monster!"

After waiting over ten days for such a report—akin to a child crying on a dark road—General Sanders's fury erupted. He struck the soldier's head with a punch, causing it to burst like a thrown tomato.

However, he quickly calmed down and asked the other soldiers about the situation. The reports confirmed the first soldier's claim: a massive creature made up of corpses was roaming the Barbaric Highlands. The reconnaissance team had attempted to approach it for a closer look but was burned by the flames it spewed, leaving only those who had stayed far enough away to escape.

Hearing this report, the general's expression soured, while the other scouts trembled in fear. Finally, he turned and shouted to his aides, "Get that bastard Nagsis over here!"

The aide rushed out of the tent, but a moment later, the general's voice boomed again, "Stop!"

"Make sure to invite Priest Commander Nagsis over for a discussion. Tell him I need to consult with him about something." The general rephrased his request after adjusting his tone.

Nagsis, the priest commander, was also part of the Ernie family and the current prime minister's eldest son. Although he was ostensibly sent by the Magic Academy to assist in coordinating the mages within the army, in reality, he had come to oversee the military operations. If he could catch the general making a mistake, he could make a significant issue of it; conversely, if the operation succeeded and the orc den was annihilated, he could claim a share of the military credit to bolster his family's influence.

Nagsis was only around thirty and had never seen battle before. His focus had mostly been on the lavish life in the capital, but he had studied for a while at both the Magic Academy and the Military Academy. Undoubtedly, he understood his task in the military this time—both to keep a close eye on the general's actions and to display his eagerness for merit.

If possible, the general would have preferred not to discuss anything with him. Against undead monsters, physical attacks such as swords and spears were often ineffective; magic was the most potent means of assault. The general lacked direct authority over the mages, as they did not belong to the army; they were support forces sent by the Magic Academy, and traditionally, only the priest in the army had the authority to mobilize them. Usually, the priests deferred to experienced military officers in battle; however, the current situation was anything but normal.

Upon seeing Nagsis's reaction, the general realized it was bad news. When informed about the massive undead creature that had emerged in the wilderness and killed several soldiers, Nagsis appeared rather pleased, his expression conveying a clear message: "Finally, it's my chance to shine." He ordered the concentration of all the mages in the army to eliminate the creature.

The general strongly disagreed. The mages were the most powerful assets in the army and also the most vulnerable. Concentrating them in one place could lead to catastrophic losses that would significantly weaken the military's fighting power. Furthermore, the mages played a critical role in combat against orcs.

Nagsis, however, insisted on his plan. The general proposed a compromise: at the very least, they should first gather intelligence on the undead creature before acting. They needed to know what kind of monster it was, why it was here, whether it had a master, and what it aimed to do. Once they had this information, they could devise a proper strategy and act accordingly.

Nagsis, however, dismissed the suggestion, claiming that the general's indecision was merely delaying the opportunity for action. Whether it was an orc trick or the work of the Necromancer Guild, he believed that no matter how large the undead creature was, it was merely a mass of corpses. With enough magical energy focused on it, they could obliterate it. This would also serve as a deterrent to the orcs, as military texts clearly stated: "The best way to win a battle is to first intimidate the enemy, making future confrontations easier."

The general exerted great effort to restrain his anger. He nearly lost control and wanted to cleave this ambitious officer in half with an axe.

It was apparent that Nagsis's eagerness for merit could not tolerate any delay. The Necromancer Guild was virtually a common enemy for all nations and synonymous with evil. If they could eliminate a gigantic monster created by them, it would not only bring military merit but would also greatly enhance his status within the church—a gift from the heavens.

Nagsis immediately began gathering the army's mages, intent on setting out the next day, as if fearing that the undead creature would vanish unexpectedly.

This battle could not afford to make mistakes, not just for the power struggles at court but also for the rise and fall of the empire. The general did not want to see imperial power fall into the hands of those despicable nobles who only knew how to scheme and plot, nor did he wish to see loyal old ministers like himself pushed aside.

The general quietly sought a secluded spot in the woods outside Bracada and vented his frustration, punching and kicking trees while cursing the entire Ernie family, their ancestors included, with the most vicious insults until he had sufficiently released his anger. He then returned to find the priest commander and insisted on joining the team to set off.

A few days later, under the guidance of the surviving scouts, the army quickly found the monster's trail. The massive footprints and the overwhelming stench of decaying corpses were clear indicators.

General Sanders and the priest commander climbed a nearby hill, where they could observe the monstrous creature slowly moving northwest.

The general took out a long iron tube given to him by Duke Murak, who had sent it through Captain Roland.

The duke has always stood on the military's side in the court; he is also a military man by background and has gained the trust of other military ministers. Although his daughter is about to marry a young man from the Ernie family, everyone believes that it's merely a matter of private feelings between young people. It is well-known that the duke has been working hard for military funding, and such a gift only reinforces the notion that he remains a soldier deeply concerned about the front lines.

This is a marvelous item, crafted by the dwarven artisans, through which one can see far-off objects. It is indeed very useful for combat, and the general is grateful for the duke's thoughtfulness.

Looking through this iron tube, the general clearly sees a gigantic monster. The overall outline of this creature resembles a dragon that appears only in legends. It is a body accumulated from countless corpses, and judging by the attire of those corpses, it is the reconnaissance team he sent out two weeks ago. Those once vibrant soldiers are now pressed together, their numerous protruding limbs rotting, trembling in sync with the movement of this monster, resembling the body hair on this giant creature. Among the twisted limbs, distorted faces sometimes emerge, and countless such lifeless images combine to form an enormous monster that is moving. It is as if death itself is in motion. The overwhelming stench of decay has not attracted carrion birds; all living beings instinctively fear this creature's aura.

The bizarre and terrifying appearance, coupled with the strong odor of decay wafting through the air, creates a horrifying atmosphere that would send chills down anyone's spine. Even the general, who is already accustomed to scenes of slaughter, feels a shiver run down his back. He senses that this is not something simple.

Priest commander Nagsis also glimpses this enormous monster through the iron tube, and his complexion begins to turn pale. He has only seen zombies depicted in illustrations.

"It seems that this monster won't pose any immediate threat to our army. Let's first withdraw our troops and report to the Magic Academy, requesting them to send dedicated priests to investigate and analyze this creature," the general suggests, noticing the priest's color.

However, priest commander Nagsis becomes furious: "What kind of soldier retreats in the face of the enemy?"

"Attacking recklessly without even knowing what it is? These mages are talents that the academy has cultivated with immense effort. What if our troops suffer casualties? Are you filled with nothing but stupidity?" The general finally unleashes his anger, shouting at the priest.

Nagsis instinctively shrinks back; the aura of a soldier fighting for survival cannot be matched by a young master lounging among women. But the priest commander quickly realizes that he cannot be intimidated by such a brute. To regain his dignity, he turns to his aide and commands, "Relay my orders in the name of the Holy Lord: all troops must eliminate this evil monster."

"Stop!" The general's roar freezes the aide's foot mid-step.

"This is my command; they are all my men. Go relay this—this is my order," the priest musters his courage to confront the general. Ultimately, the weight of orders prevails in the minds of the subordinates, and he runs towards the troops down the mountain.

The general watches helplessly as hundreds of mages gallop toward the monster. He glares at the priest, fire nearly erupting from his eyes, gritting his teeth, "You better hope this monster can actually be dealt with quickly."

The mages race closer, and the corpse dragon seems indifferent to these tiny creatures, which it views as mere ants. Just days ago, it effortlessly turned dozens of such beings to dust.

It lacks any capacity for thought; its immense magical power causes it to reject all commands. It simply follows the instincts bestowed upon it by the magic array that created it, seeking the flow of magical energy beneath the earth as it moves northwest.

The mages rush into magical range. At the command of a few mid-level mages, in an instant, the outline of the corpse dragon is completely submerged in flashes and flames, as various attack spells collide and explode upon its corpse-like body. The explosions of fireballs, the scorching flames, the white light and thunder of lightning, and the whistling and shattering of ice arrows combine to create a magnificent display of magic. Each explosion, each flash, and every whistle carries enough power to fell an ogre.

Even from a distant hill, one can feel the astonishing magical power unleashed by these hundreds of mages. The concentrated firepower of these hundreds is indeed formidable; even a mountain should be flattened by it. Priest commander Nagsis is full of self-satisfaction, as if he hears the triumphant music of a grand promotion ceremony.

Suddenly, a green wave bursts forth from this dazzling display of magical fireworks, immediately overwhelming all the other flashes and sounds with its overwhelming momentum.

In just a few blinks, the green wave dissipates, and the wilderness returns to tranquility as if nothing had happened. The wind blows over a large expanse of blackened earth surrounding the corpse dragon, producing a faint whistle; the scorched earth is utterly empty, and the previously magnificent magical scene seems to have been merely an illusion.

Not a trace is left on the corpse dragon. The immense magical power and life energy contained in these bodies make its defense many times tougher than that of magically processed soft armor, rendering both magical and physical attacks ineffective.

Stunned for a while, Priest commander Nagsis holds his head in his hands, shaking his head and shouting, "How could this be…"

The general's fist, the size of a frying pan, strikes his face, producing a sound of bone shattering as he is sent flying far away.

The priest commander leads the troops to eliminate the gigantic undead creature, only to tragically see his entire force perish on the battlefield. The general has already thought of what to report.

The most powerful weapon against the orc army—the talents that the Magic Academy has painstakingly nurtured—vanished in the blink of an eye. The general trembles all over.

Watching all this from a distant hill, Bishop Ronis also trembles slightly.

"I regret it now; I really regret it…" Bishop Ronis lowers his head, repeatedly emphasizing his words in a deep tone, as if he must express his feelings this way. "I regret helping to create such a monster." The hundreds of mages burned to death were all trained by the Magic Academy; they were all his students.

"This is a death without pain; they probably didn't even have time to think of 'death' before they died. It's truly a perfect way to die. You don't need to grieve for them, teacher." Vadenina's body is merely a shell, and her voice is forced out through air magic in her throat. Though unpleasant to hear, it carries an emotional tone, indicating she is speaking sincerely.

Ronis turns to look at her, his eyes now entirely consumed by anger.

"You don't need to be angry, teacher. Their deaths prove to others that our masterpiece is perfect. It's just a hundred lives; with this as a warning, we can spare thousands of ordinary soldiers from death. Isn't that a great deal?" Vadenina speaks confidently. "Are you feeling sorry for them just because they are students of the Magic Academy? I remember you often taught me that life is not divided into the noble and the lowly."

"How could a lich like you understand the meaning of life?" Bishop Ronis sighs deeply. He still clearly remembers how this student looked twenty years ago—full of vitality, energy, and beauty, making it hard for anyone to associate her with the concept of 'death.'

"Teacher, you are mistaken. Anything that exists can be destroyed; thus, it is bound to die. I simply changed the form of my life structure; I no longer age. Moreover, I became this way precisely because I feared death. I fear that time will kill me, fear that my life will slip away beyond my will; hence, I adopted this method to preserve my life."

"Just a monster created by dark magic," Ronis scoffs.

"Teacher, you are mistaken again." Vadenina continues to elaborate on her viewpoint. "This is not dark magic at all; it is entirely the crystallization of human wisdom. Humanity creates various technologies—smelting, agriculture, medicine—to live more safely and longer. In other words, human wisdom has always been fighting against death to extend its life. What is the essential difference between creating an immortal body like mine and those ordinary technologies? Wisdom and technology are merely expressions of life seeking to extend itself. Mine is simply a more complex and advanced way, making it harder for the average person to accept." She raises her hand, revealing her skin-wrapped skeleton. "This is the life extended by top-tier technology; my body is the highest embodiment of human vitality."

Ronis furrows his brow as he looks at her decaying skeleton, seeing the dead gray through the holes in her skin. Her logical reasoning remains impeccable. Twenty years ago, she was recognized as a once-in-a-century magical talent, possessing an imagination beyond ordinary understanding. Yet the final outcome is that she has used her wisdom to recreate an ancient, lost ritual, transforming herself into a lich. It's uncertain whether this is due to her intelligence.

Once humanity bites into the fruit of wisdom, it is doomed not to enjoy the reality of life. Ronis suddenly thinks of this parable.

"Why do you both always argue over such trivial matters? After twenty years, you haven't made any progress." Sandru, who has been listening impatiently, says to Vadenina, "Can we talk about something substantive? What's the purpose of creating that monster? Why should we watch it move sluggishly? Do you know how long it's been since I went to a teahouse for tea and conversation?"

"Disturbing the teacher's elegance is truly regrettable. As a magician, I just want to create a perfect magical artwork," Vadenina said calmly. "And isn't it our responsibility as creators to pay attention to the situation regarding this artwork?"

Sandru replied, "To be honest, why did you choose this location for creating it? Don't tell me it was just a temporary decision. After being here for a few days, I've more or less figured out what's going on. That thing has been moving toward the center of this high ground."

A strange smile appeared on the upper half of Vadenina's face. "That's because I determined its instinct when I was making it. It will move toward the direction of the ley lines, from here to the center of this high ground, to clear away some garbage. Such a magical artwork should naturally perform a function worthy of its significance. Therefore, I let it guard this land, which will become a holy site, before the arrival of the World King. A brand new world order will rise from here."

"World King? New order?" Sandru spat on the ground with disdain. "Do you still believe in these nonsensical fairy tales? It's just a way to fool those dull-witted idiots in the guild. I took away the books just to prevent you from daydreaming all these things."

Ronis sneered, "What else can they do besides these nonsense? Do you expect them to farm, make friends, and engage in political or military matters?"

Vadenina smiled and said, "Great matters? They are just fleeting moments; why bother? Look at the northwest direction." She pointed. "The city-states there are gathering nearly extinct races of orcs, using the notion of freedom and independence to deceive them. They've allied with various national chambers of commerce to create a thriving scene, trying to seize this central geographical location to grow strong. But will the Empire of Einfast just sit back and watch the orcs they've been slaughtering gain independence? Do the surrounding countries truly wish to see a nation established on this high ground? The Empire's army has already arrived, hasn't it? The outcome of this war will also affect the political upheavals in the Empire. Hmph, military matters, political storms, the survival of nations, nation-building, prosperity, and strength. Such beautiful and grand words! Enough to make those ants obsessed and desperate, enough for poets to sing praises. But what does it all actually count for? This central land, which has gathered so many shifting winds and clouds, is about to turn to ash beneath the artwork I've created, and all the military matters that were supposed to happen will naturally cease to exist."

"Do you think you've become a god?" Ronis scoffed.

"I'm not a god, and there are no gods in this world. I have simply transcended the mundane. I see through the superficial glamour of this world; it is all but bubbles. Everything that happens is merely a small gear in the development of this entire world, and the outcome has long been predetermined. Why become obsessed with meaningless things?" Her voice rose in excitement, making it sound even more unpleasant. "I invited you two teachers to stay and witness how our work turns the annoying garbage into ash, to prove that everything aligns with what I've said. Only what we do conforms to the world's development rules, and that is truly meaningful."

Sandru spat for the third time in disbelief and said, "Sometimes, I really admire you for spending so much time and energy on such trivial matters. Why can't you just live simply? Like me, I don't think about anything and do whatever seems interesting. Even when you asked me to help with this dangerous behemoth, I just thought it would be fun, so I came. There's no need to always think that things must have some absurd significance."

Vadenina laughed out loud. It was a sound like a wolf lamenting. "Regarding fun, I can tell the two teachers something quite interesting: I threw that classmate into the Solar Well, and he's gravely injured. For someone who has practiced True Death Meditation, what do you think would happen if he fell into the fully charged Solar Well? The wave energy in the well water would be absorbed by him, which means the ritual the elves use to resist darkness has been disrupted. Moreover, I know that this classmate ran out of the Whispering Forest with that power. Since the two teachers didn't show any surprise when they saw my leaf from the World Tree, it's safe to assume that it wasn't the elves from the Whispering Forest who informed you, right?"

Sandru and Ronis exchanged glances but said nothing.

Ronis then said coolly, "What you believe is your own business; we have our own beliefs. Everyone acts according to what they believe in, and in the end, we'll see whose beliefs are correct."

"Exactly." Vadenina said meaningfully. "I wonder if that classmate will conveniently take those two leaves from the World Tree when he escapes. If so, then the elves' so-called ritual will indeed be meaningless. I can tell he is strong, and he will grow stronger. As long as he has the desire to become stronger, he won't let go of something as valuable as the leaves of the World Tree."

Ronis sneered, "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. He did take one, but it's already been used to save someone."

"And it was to save a woman! Truly reminiscent of my youthful romantic flair," Sandru shook his head and said.

Vadenina's half face showed a hint of disappointment, but then she dismissively said, "But saving one person doesn't mean he will save everyone. Liking one woman doesn't mean he will like all women. The development of everything is within our expectations; all the fantasies that hinder us will eventually turn to ash. If you two teachers don't believe it, just wait and see." She sighed. "I really hope to see him alive and well once more."