The world might want to set itself straight but the NPC has other plans (part 4)

The force of fourty-odd thousands was frozen, watching the few cracks in the dam turn into the cobweb of crevices, and the material composing it began to let out a pained sound as the pressure of the water pushing against it began to overwhelm its resistance.

"R-RETREAT!"

*WHAM*

*GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSH*

The gray-haired general was the first to regain his voice and shout, but his voice was drowned by the bone-chilling snapping sound of the dam breaking apart, followed by the roar of the raging water unleashed from its ancient prison.

"We have a bowl. We have so many ingredients that walked to us all on their own. It's obvious that the last thing to do is to add water to start making a soup~."

Medea hummed from up above, raising his hand and couping the valley in his hand as the torrent of water swallowed the Battllorran third field army's undefeated first corps and pulled them down into a cold, silent grave at the bottom of the rapidly restoring lake.

"WOO-HOOO!"

"Fuck! How much even is fourty thousand divided by three hundred?! Aren't we, like, super aces by this point?!"

"The drinks are on us, Battllorran fuckers!"

"The bonuses! The paid leave! The higher-ups will have to come up with new orders to match this achievement!"

The soldiers and thugs cheered out, watching the spectacle, laughing and patting each other back in exaltation.

*crack* "Captain Hector, the officer's tent at the new defense line of the Wondalandor kingdom."

Medea didn't partake in the jolly celebration and simply took out a green communication pellet from his pellet casket and crushed it, selecting the name of the person he wanted to talk with.

"|Captain Hector. Captain Medea reports that the joined forces of the forty-second company and the voluntary civilian company Vultures engaged and dealt with the Battllorran kingdom's third field army first corps.|"

The black-haired man declared while leaning back into the expensive and very comfortable armchair.

"[Medea? Are you still not ready...? Wha...?]"

The voice of the light-brown-haired officer that gave the black-haired youth the military recommendation almost seven years ago resounded in Medea's ear in annoyance but then went silent as the meaning of the words began to settle in.

"[Did... DID YOU JUST SAY THAT YOU ENGAGED THE FIRST CORPS?! THE WHOLE THING?!]"

Hector roared, but thankfully – for Medea's eardrums – the spell unleashed by the communication pellet had a set volume that it transferred the conversation back and forth without discerning to whispers and shouts.

"|Indeed. Please dispatch some of our forces to the former ancient dam in the southern mountains to confirm the result.|"

"[What result?! And... wait, what?! FORMER ANCIENT DAM?! WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU CRAZY BASTARD?!]"

Medea reported calmly as his face turned back to his usual serious expression, even though Hector sounded as if he was about to pass out after having a heart attack.

"|The joined forces of the forty-second company and the voluntary civilian company Vultures under my command engaged and dealt with the Battllorran kingdom's third field army's -formerly undefeated- first corps. I request assistance in confirming the success of our operation... Although from our vantage point at the edge of the former ancient dam, where we will be waiting, there is around eighty-five percent certainty that the enemy forces were wiped off.|"

"Boss, you are too careful – if even one of those bastards survived this, I promise to give you one big gold coin!"

Medea repeated himself, and the snake-like Nag laughed, shaking his head at how reserved the black-haired man was in his success prediction.

"..."

Medea glanced at him and shrugged his shoulders without changing his serious expression, which translated into a normal person's behavior would be a prideful grin.

"[You said you were making soup...!]"

"|And I did. A Battllorran kingdom's third field army first corps undefeated soup.|"

It sounded as if Captain Hector was losing his grip on reality as he cried out in an accusatory manner, but Medea only confirmed his words, and the communication spell's time had run out.

"Captain! We did that so that the war would end, right? What will your next plan be if it won't be enough?"

The rough-looking lieutenant called out eagerly to the black-haired man without standing up from his spot.

"I'm going to desert and check out my old gang on my way to taking back my woman. I bet the list of the fuckers I will have to kill or mutilate for messing with that dummy must be updated and probably will get much longer than before. You know. Normal stuff."

"!!!"

Medea responded in a serious voice, making the lieutenant and all of his underlings flinch in speechless shock.

"Vultures, you already abandoned your former gangs and groups; feel free to go your own way or follow me; your choice. As for the forty-second company's bunch – good job until now."

The black-haired man nodded his head with approval before looking back at the surface of the restored lake that began to settle as the water level slowly equalized.

No one could say anything because they knew that their captain was completely serious about the matter; even the newest members of the Vultures that had been around for over a year had learned a thing or two about the black-haired man.

Captain Medea's devotion to his woman far surpassed his devotion to the army or the kingdom he served.

One of the most unhinged examples of that was when he received a mysterious package with a bottle of unknown liquid and a small letter. It was supposed to be a package from the royal castle - a so-called gift from his beloved... And Medea, the black-haired demon that trusted no one and doubted everything watered the bottle content down and drank it over several weeks - despite the thing having an extremely high chance of being a poison sent out by an enemy spy that infiltrated Wondalandor's army supply chain.

He kept drinking it even when he ended up severely wounded or sick - even when it looked like the - gift - was the reason he couldn't recover properly.

In the end though, he didn't die and even kept the bottle on him as some sort of a good-luck charm.

Medea never dropped the name of his woman, but everyone realized that she was an engaged lass.

Engaged to another man, that is.

There was a time when he received a letter informing him that the date of the wedding was finally decided – it was the date when he almost abandoned his duties then and there to rush back. That day he lost the chance to get another promotion and go stuck a the rank of captain as he ended up almost killing another officer that mocked the situation without realizing the true nature of the black-haired man.

Back then, only Captain Hector's intervention stopped the higher-ups from putting Medea under court martial too...

The man who fears no higher-ups, no kings, and no gods.

The man who led the entire first corps of the enemy army by the nose for three years and turned them into husks of what they were while forcing them to keep going.

Deserting the army for a lass?

Before anyone realizes what happened, he will be gone, and the poor lad that tried to marry his woman will be a corpse rotting in a ditch!

"...but... but the chance that this will end the war is pretty big, right? Battllorran forces are besieging the spots way back south, and the first corps was spearheading the attack – without them, it's over, right?"

The rough-looking officer gulped down his saliva and tried to be optimistic about the future.

"We shall see."

Medea tilted his head, gazing upon the destroyed dam, and sighed without much conviction behind his words.