Chapter 7

“This company is severely imbalanced.”

Though Ludmila worried that her statement might be interpreted as a complaint, it was still a fact. After a dozen failures to ‘capture’ the Blood Meat Hulk with her Skeleton Warriors, she killed it off herself and went to replenish her lost troops.

Blood Meat Hulks would replace her Undead Beasts as heavy infantry – if she could ever manage to ‘capture’ one with her forces. Skeleton Warriors replaced her Ghast light infantry. Both were easy enough to find, but upgrades for her Skeleton Archers and Skeleton Mages were nonexistent. The Skeleton Archers were a problem in particular: their attacks barely scratched any of the stronger Undead in the ruin.

There were Undead creatures that took the form of various animals purely formed from assorted bones. Many were greatly exaggerated in size, as was the case with the Skeleton Centipedes, Skeleton Spiders and other forms of skeletal vermin. They didn’t seem to share much in common with their animal counterparts as Undead Beasts somewhat did, and they were too irregular in size and form to use properly in ranks.

“While this is supposed to be a learning experience for you,” the Sorcerer King said, “there isn’t always a need for perfect balance. If it were the Sorcerous Kingdom’s forces, you’d have Old Guarders to use in the role of skirmishers at this level, but it doesn’t seem like there are any equivalents here.”

“Can the Skeleton Warriors be used as improvised skirmishers? They don’t have bows, but there are pieces of rubble lying all over the place.”

“I was wondering if you’d pick up on that.”

The Sorcerer King seemed to grin and pause. Ludmila almost laughed politely at his pun before she snatched up her girlish desire to mindlessly please him and stuffed it back into the unspeakable depths from where it had come.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “At any rate, low-level Skeletons are weak and fragile relative to their living counterparts, and there’s a 14 Level difference between Skeleton Archers and Skeleton Warriors. A rock from the latter would do far more damage than an arrow from the former. Just don’t expect them to throw them as far.”

She continued clearing the flattened city blocks, picking up more Skeleton Warriors along the way. Unlike the Skeleton Archers, they did not have quivers that produced endless arrows, so she had them pile stones on their round shields to carry them around. As they went, she realized that there was another sort of soldier available to her in sizable quantities: one she was already well-accustomed to employing.

“May I add Bone Vultures to the company?”

“Flying units, hm?” His Majesty fixed his gaze on a Bone Vulture perched atop a pile of rubble, “Come to think of it, I know that the Slane Theocracy’s forces summon Angels, but I’ve not seen anyone from these northern Human nations summon flying creatures for combat purposes. Are you familiar with their use?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ludmila replied. “I employ them as aerial patrols in my demesne. They keep rodents, vermin and birds away from the granaries, as well. I also have some experience with commanding them in battle.”

“Is that so…well, let’s see what you can do, then.”

The Bone Vultures were easy enough to capture. Like the other low-level Undead, they possessed a mindless intelligence that seemed to only consist of the rudimentary ‘instincts’ required to function, as well as being able to understand their controller. If one considered the ‘ecology’ of a negative energy environment, mindless Undead were something like the low beasts and vermin of the living world. The primary difference was that they lacked empathy and had no mental state that could influence their behaviour.

After adding two dozen Bone Vultures to her company, she dispatched a few to scout out the surroundings. When they returned, however, she realized that there was a crucial problem.

“I can issue directions to these Bone Vultures,” Ludmila said, “but the Bone Vultures can’t communicate with me beyond what gestures they can make.”

“How did you communicate with them before?”

“They didn’t report to me,” she replied. “The Elder Liches managed them under my orders, initially. After that, two of my maids assumed oversight of our reconnaissance efforts once I needed the Elder Liches for other duties, but they worked with the Vampire Brides in my demesne. I’ve formalized things since then. My maids continue directing the territory’s security, while Elder Liches from the Royal Army serve as junior officers of sorts, communicating with our forces on the field while learning from my maids.”

The Sorcerer King paused at this, leaning towards her in the way that he did when something drew his interest. Ludmila resisted the urge to shy away, turning her gaze to the side as she wrestled with the sensations rising within her.

“…your maids work with the Undead?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ludmila swallowed. “Back in the spring, the administration was especially keen on collecting information as to how Undead labour could be employed in the Sorcerous Kingdom. In addition to employing them in my territory’s industries, I integrated them with my manor as well. My household retinue is a bit strange for a Human Noble: for every living member, there are two Undead. Death Knights make up half of my footmen, I have an Elder Lich working as a steward for manor business, and there are four Skeleton Warriors to assist each maid shift with menial labour. They’re especially helpful for two of my maids who are expecting.”

“Expecting…” His Majesty’s tone turned thoughtful. “You mean to say that your maids direct Skeleton Warriors to do household chores, as to not overburden themselves…in the future, do they intend to keep their infant children in close proximity with the Undead?”

“They’re well used to having them around already,” she smiled slightly. “There are many menial tasks that the Undead cannot perform as well as my maids, so I suspect that they’ll even have the skeletal labourers hold onto their babies while they see to those tasks. Our Death Knights wouldn’t mind taking care of them, too, but the Elder Liches would probably run away. The success with Undead labour in my manor led to the inclusion of one Skeleton Warrior for every tenant household in my demesne.”

The Sorcerer King leaned back again, cradling his chin in hand. His slender finger slowly tapped his cheek. Ludmila wondered what he was thinking about.

“What was their reception like?” He asked, “Broadly speaking, acceptance rates for Undead labour are still fairly poor due to common perceptions and religious views of the Undead.”

“…I may have been a bit forceful,” she answered. “Legally speaking, a contract of tenure is required for permanent residence anywhere in the Duchy of E-Rantel. Since the skeletal labourer is a part of my tenants’ contracts, one cannot live in Warden’s Vale without also having a skeletal labourer in their household. That being said, my tenants and their families became accustomed to their presence and use within a few weeks of their arrival. After a few months, they become inseparable. As with Lluluvien and Wiluvien – the maids that I mentioned – households with single mothers have especially become reliant on them. Raising a family takes a lot of energy, and doing it alone while also working is…Your Majesty?”

Ludmila looked up at the Sorcerer King with a worried expression, as did Lady Shalltear. At some point during their discussion, his demeanour had changed.

“It’s nothing,” he said quietly. “That my subjects have found appreciable value in my Undead servitors pleases me, Miss Zahradnik. Shall we continue our exploration?”

The Sorcerer King held out his arm, and one of the Bone Vultures Ludmila had dispatched to scout the area descended to perch on his arm. After a moment, he nodded.

“It appears that they can report to me,” he said. “I suppose it’s because they’re technically my minions. Shalltear, can you communicate with this fellow?”

Lady Shalltear stepped closer. After a moment she furrowed her brow and shook her head.

“I can communicate with everyone at home and all of your summons, but not these ones. Is it because they’re not one of ours?”

“Most likely…”

A moment later, His Majesty seemed to come upon an idea. He leaned towards Ludmila with a mischievous air.

“In that case, Miss Zahradnik,” he said, “shall I be your Elder Lich?”

Ludmila’s mouth fell open as her thoughts instantly became a snarl over the various connotations of His Majesty’s question. Her eyebrows rose sharply once her mind settled on his probable meaning.

“A-absolutely not, Your Majesty! For the Sorcerer King to become the subordinate of a minor noble…please don’t ever suggest such things, even in jest!”

“I-it was purely from a practical perspective,” the Sorcerer King straightened abruptly. “In that case, what else have you used for reconnaissance?”

She sighed in relief over the fact that he did not insist on the role. If that had happened, Ludmila did not know what would have become of her.

“We used Shadow Demons, at first,” she said. “Wraiths summoned by Elder Liches have also been employed in the past, but they’re temporary in duration and impractical for an extended excursion like this.”

“I believe Shadow Demons can be used here,” the Sorcerer King said. “They can fly and are stealthy enough to avoid notice by everything we’ve encountered so far. You’ll be restricted to using them to gather information, of course.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Despite being able to fly, Shadow Demons were nowhere near as fast as some other flying creatures, such as Frost Dragons. It would take them roughly six hours to arrive from E-Rantel. In the meantime, Ludmila continued to clear everything in their path as they investigated the city.

Judging from how the buildings had been destroyed, more substantial structures like the towers that dotted the plains should have survived somewhat intact. By going deeper into the ruins, she hoped to find something along the lines of a militia barracks or some other sturdily constructed government building.

An hour later, those hopes were realized when a looming bastion of stone appeared out of the misty darkness. His Majesty looked up at the imposing structure.

“A castle?”

“A garrison facility, I think,” Ludmila said. “Even if their border defences were sufficient against foreign threats, a city of this size still needs a large policing force.”

Whether the people here used militia or army regulars for the role, she wasn’t certain. The state of the structure seemed promising, however.

They followed the wide avenue around the five-metre tall walls of the building, clearing the area around it while looking for the main entrance. The avenue widened into a large plaza. A huge fountain occupied its centre, filled with the dust that drifted on the winds. As they came closer, Ludmila noted the base of what should have been a towering statue. The statue itself was missing.

“It looks like you have a miniboss-type encounter.”

The company stilled as Ludmila halted her mount at the edge of the plaza. The Sorcerer King’s use of Adventurer-style terminology still threw her off. His Majesty always seemed so grand and regal, yet would often speak more commonly when it came to matters that Adventurers might consider. Then again, he did declare himself a great Adventurer and his accounts of the past also appeared to suggest this.

Between the fountain and the garrison stood six Blood Meat Hulks. Before the new additions to her company, they would have been impossible to defeat, but now…

“It’s time to finally upgrade my heavy infantry,” she said.

“Hoh…confident, aren’t we?”

In response, Ludmila raised her glaive, reordering her wing of Bone Vultures into eight flights of three. As they wheeled overhead, she directed six of the flights to dive upon the Blood Meat Hulks.

Wicked talons drew deep furrows through Undead flesh, and the Blood Meat Hulks moaned in unison. All around the plaza, Undead converged on the disturbance, but the Bone Vultures had already regained altitude. Ludmila studied the battlefield, taking note of any threats to them in the swarm of Undead.

Wraiths chased the Bone Vultures around, but their attacks were impotent against other Undead. The poor-quality arrows from Skeleton Archers were similarly harmless, as even low-level skeletal Undead had a small amount of physical damage reduction that could only be bypassed by bludgeoning attacks. A few Skeleton Mages joined the growing crowd, but they were out of spell range. The Bone Vultures perched on the rubble around the edge of the plaza were too far away to react to the ongoing fight.

As her Bone Vultures wheeled overhead, the Undead on the ground milled about in an attempt to chase them around. The Blood Meat Hulks acted as a fleshy grindstone, trampling the other Undead into powder.

“That won’t work so well against intelligent opponents,” the Sorcerer King noted.

“Perhaps not in this fashion,” Ludmila replied, “but it will happen. Armies are composed of formations, but formations are made up of individuals. The movement of an individual is restricted not just by the weight of their enemies, but the weight of the allied formation around them. These mindless Undead might seem stupidly powerless being defeated by a tactic like this, but individual soldiers are just as easily crushed when the flow of battle goes against them. Furthermore, the morale of the living can be broken and armies will trample their own with no further prompting, unlike the Undead.”

“Umu,” His Majesty nodded. “I have witnessed this before, but from where did you learn this? As I understand it, House Zahradnik did not possess any large territorial armies that required such considerations.”

From beside him, Lady Shalltear smiled darkly.

“Ludmila is a mistress of dread, Lord Ainz,” she said. “Her tactical acumen is indeed remarkable, but what is truly delectable are the ways by which she rips her enemies apart. The opponents that are presented before her are currently Undead, but it’s easy to imagine what would have happened in the battles so far if they were of the living.”

The Sorcerer King looked out towards the Blood Meat Hulks as they continued to stomp around, then he turned to focus his gaze on her.

“So I’ve noticed,” he said. “But how is it that you’ve grown to become such a fearsome commander?”

“I’m not sure if I would say I ‘grew’ to become this way, Your Majesty,” Ludmila replied. “It is simply the way that House Zahradnik fights. One could say that it comes naturally. Our place on the frontier puts us in a situation where a company less than half the size of this one is all that stands between the interior and the uncountable threats from beyond the border. Just as high morale can bolster armies far beyond the performance that is expected of them, low morale can shatter an army just as easily. Since we were always grossly outnumbered, it was always more effective to break the will of the many rather than raise the spirits of the few.”