The Legendary Rebuilding of a World by a Realist Demon King Chapter 42

The Demon King who Kills the Undead

There were about one thousand of the undead.

The commanders of their army had them march in a long line.

Much like the shape of a snake.

It was like watching children march off to school.

One could say that they did not expect a difficult battle.

However, it wasn’t entirely their fault.

They probably knew our numbers.

With an army of only three hundred, it would not matter if we hit them from the back or the front. The result would be the same.

We could not surround them and annihilate them.

It seemed the only thing the enemy cared about now was ending this quickly.

Perhaps I should be thankful that they did not underestimate us to the point where they ignored our three hundred and marched straight for Ashtaroth castle.

I thought this as I tried to look for their commander.

“Toshizou, can you see who is commanding them?”

“According to the reports, it is a sorcerer with a frightening face.”

“Oh? Human?”

“Apparently.”

“…A human. I see.”

I did not like that.

As if to further this feeling, Jeanne approached me.

“I just scouted the area using a gargoyle.”

“That seems rather dangerous.”

“It is not dangerous. They are undead. They do not fire arrows.”

“Still, a gargoyle would have no easy time carrying someone of your weight. It might have tired and fallen from the sky.”

“I used two of them. Besides, I do not weigh that much. I take offense.”

She pouted in exaggeration. However, she was probably not considering the weight of all of her armor.

But this was no time for jokes, much less appeasement, and so I asked her bluntly.

“Jeanne. Who is their commander?”

“The exact person you expected.”

“…I see. So it is the Necromancer, Sharltar.”

“Yes.”

“I was right then.”

“But did he not die back in the dwarf lands? How has he returned? Perhaps this is a brother?”

“While not impossible, he could have gathered the undead towards him and blocked the explosion from hitting him. Or he could have used magic to fake his death as he slept under the soil. Yes, that seems quite likely.”

“Well, he must hate you very much now.”

“Of course. After all, he chose to attack our small group instead of the castle.”

“Then this is mostly about revenge. Demon King, I do not think you should be out on the frontlines.”

“This fight will not be so easy that I can afford to stand back. We will have to deal with this one thousand undead first!”

“Leave it to me. I am a Saint. We are strong against the undead.”

“I expect much from you.”

It was at that moment that the undead began their attack.

As for our army, they faced them in a single row.

Jeanne, Hijikata and I took one hundred each and took turns leading them to battle.

Jeanne would be the first.

It was something that she had insisted on.

“I am the Maid of Orleans! But in a few months, I will no longer be a maid! This is because I will become the wife of the Demon King!”

She shouted. This was news to me, but she made the declaration with the utmost conviction.

Of course, such boasts meant nothing to the zombies.

They could not even understand human speech.

Only Sharltar could speak to them in the language of the undead.

“ARRGhhHH!!”

They cried as they rushed forward.

Jeanne watched them cooly. She did not even unsheath her sword until they were so close that they could touch her.

But when that moment did come, she tore them to shreds.

Zombies were animated corpses, and Saint Jeanne’s holy sword cut right through them.

-Not only that, but the sword line extended much further out.

“Know the power of the holy sword, Nouvelle Joyeuse!”

She cried proudly.

And her confidence was justified.

Because she had cut down thirty zombies with one strike.

The sight of it was both strange and mystical. And beautiful.

That was the Maid of Orleans.

I said as much, and she smiled. After that, she spent half a day killing zombies.

After that, Jeanne’s subordinates looked exhausted.

Many of them were human, and they were not fit for prolonged battles.

And so they were called back and Hijikata’s team were sent out.

He led a team of werewolves, and their claws ripped through the waves of dead without mercy.

Zombie heads flew in the air and were crushed.

Skeletons shattered under a single blow.

And the werewolves weren’t the only monsters there. Hijikata was one himself.

“This blade has been thirsty for blood. -But then again, the undead do not even bleed.”

He joked to himself as he skillfully cut through the enemy ranks.

As he enjoyed the sensation of cutting through the zombies, he left the skeletons to the werewolves. That being said, he was not cruel.

Occasionally, he would spot a human mercenary who had been hired by Sharltar, and instead of killing them, he would cut off their hands.

“That’s what you get for lending a hand to evil.”

He said. Now that I think of it, he actually was kind of cruel.

But perhaps it was a kindness in a way, as we were on a battlefield where lives were easily taken.

Toshizou had no trouble cutting through the undead, but there were some enemies present that posed a challenge to his team.

Ghosts had entered the field.

His Izuminokami Kanesada blade could cut through them. Even the werewolf claws could. However, our orcs and goblins were powerless, which was a great disadvantage.

But we had a team of human sorcerers for such occasions.

These were the humans I had gathered together by posting signs around the city.

These people were able to banish ghosts with a single spell.

“Thank you, Master Demon King. That was very thoughtful of you.”

Toshizou said.

They were rather reliable, but they were no replacement for Jeanne or Toshizou.

While they had powerful magic, it was limited.

And the depletion of it was quick.

Toshizou also appeared to be tiring.

It was time for me to step out into the front lines.

Toshizou saw this and said,

“Now here comes the main attraction.”

And whistled.

“Shut up and rest. This will not be over until several days have passed.”

He looked quite disappointed by this, but it was true. It lasted for three days.

During those three days, I fought like a lion. Future historians would call me the ‘killer of the undead.’