I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills

Chapter 32. Wolfskrig (6)

Count Calvenia.

The second Vampire Duke, Tribus.

Although they are of different races by birth, they surprisingly have a few things in common.

The fact that they are necromancers.

The fact that they belong to the Vampire Archduchy.

The fact that they don't particularly like Duke Yulister von Zarhill.

And….

“I remember that we both clearly agreed on the great will that magitech is the future of the vampire school.”

…the fact that they are pioneers of magitech, extremely rare in the vampire school.

“You and I know the need for innovation, don't we? Unlike those conservative careerists who just wait for the day the Duke wakes up.”

“…….”

“Although we didn't share our consciousness in the Bloodline, I felt that our wills were connected. In human terms… a trustworthy relationship, yes, I would call it a friend.”

It’s certainly something to see after living for a long time.

To see that even a piece of trash psychopath murderer like Tribus has a friend.

I don’t know what’s so trustworthy about a guy who hides behind a mask and lets out a perverted laugh like ‘keehee’ all the time.

Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with what the Count said.

The two of them share the same will.

In the game, too, Tribus and Count Calvenia were practically allies.

After Tribus became the second Duke, he would give full support to the Count, who had lost most of his power in the latter half of the game.

That’s why, when playing as the Count Calvenia faction, holding out until the latter half was always the core of the strategy.

However, there’s a fact he doesn’t know.

“Keehee.”

I am not Tribus.

“A bat-bastard is getting cocky just because I played along a little. Does it think it’s human just because it knows how to speak human words?”

“……Oh, my.”

Was he truly flustered this time?

The Count, who had been silent for a moment, slowly took a step down the hill.

But had I underestimated the character of someone who had befriended a moral degenerate like Tribus?

His patience surpassed my expectations.

“Ah, I should have congratulated you first. Congratulations. To think you’re an 8th-circle high mage.”

“……?”

“I sincerely congratulate you on the results of your research and training. How arduous it must have been to study the vampire school in a human body?”

What’s with this vampire?

Could he be on drugs?

Pop.

The cork of the wine bottle popped with a cheerful sound.

It was a wine the Count had received from a Grave Knight.

The act of uncorking the wine, pouring it into a glass, swirling it slowly, and then taking a sip to savor it—every gesture was filled with leisure.

A level of leisure difficult to show in front of an 8th-circle high mage, as the Count himself put it.

“Hmm, the aroma is nice.”

The bastard, who received a clean new glass from the Grave Knight, poured a little wine.

The glass was handed to me.

He stood before me.

“I understand your confidence. However, no matter how high a mage you are, you can’t beat me here.”

A confident gaze.

A tone filled with self-assurance.

A question suddenly arose.

For some reason, he doesn't seem to be hostile towards me.

No matter how old a friend he is.

He’s an enemy who is interfering with an operation he has staked his life on?

“This is a spell you've probably never seen before. The last time I used it was half a century ago. I went through a lot of trouble to create this spell. I think I was holed up in the mountains for ten years.”

“…….”

“And this is the result. A domain-type spell that changes the terrain. Even if the Princess of Blood were to come, she could not defeat me in here.”

Look at him now.

Isn't this attitude overly favorable for someone dealing with a meddler who has crashed his operation?

The tone in which he explains the spell is somewhat high-handed, but it doesn't feel like he intends to threaten.

Rather, it has the nuance of showing off his hand.

As if we are sitting at a negotiation table….

‘A negotiation table… ah, so that’s it.’

Was it because I had only been thinking about fighting all the way here?

I realized a fact that had been so blatantly obvious only belatedly.

Count Calvenia had no intention of fighting me from the beginning.

He had created this situation to win me over from the start.

The reason would be in the same context as when the Princess of Blood tried to recruit me before.

The Vampire Archduchy is currently in the midst of internal strife, and they need a mercenary who is not bound by the constraints of the [Bloodline].

If so….

“Keehee. That… is the first I’m hearing of it.”

I accepted the glass he offered.

Let’s try a little acting here.

* * *

I like poker.

Before I got into [Warlord Conquest], I spent most of my day on internet poker games.

If I had money, I might have squandered my fortune at Kangwon Land or illegal private gambling houses.

However, the reason I fell for poker wasn't because I was tainted by mammonism, aiming for a windfall.

‘A game that requires a high level of psychological warfare.’

That was the sole reason I fell for poker.

It’s the same reason I naturally switched to Warlord Conquest.

Even though it was a single-player game, the realm of psychological warfare was quite important in Warlord Conquest.

For reference, the basic skill in psychological warfare for card games, including poker, is bluffing.

There is one commonly accepted tip for that.

When you have a strong hand, act weak.

So that the opponent lets their guard down and makes a bigger mistake.

“As you can also feel, this cavity, this space which is the center of the labyrinth, is my possession.”

“Possession…?”

That’s why I’m currently acting like a clueless, nerdy spell-slinger.

I’m certain.

In this hand, my cards are better.

He is trying hard to win me over.

And I can kill him whenever I feel like it.

If so, it would be better to induce him to bet more chips.

The chip I’m lacking right now is information.

As expected, Count Calvenia began to release information as expected.

He, in his own way, had started to throw bait at me.

“This spell was created to overcome the disadvantages of siege warfare. If you cover the wall with a hemispherical curtain, you can temporarily neutralize the wall itself.”

His explanation can be summarized as follows.

Just by covering it with the curtain, it isolates the defending troops within a radius of about 300 meters in the disadvantageous battlefield of a labyrinth.

At the same time, he could push the undead army through the curtain protruding outside the wall to hunt the isolated defending troops.

That’s not all.

When the spell is dispelled, the living beings inside the labyrinth are designed to be randomly placed within the range of the curtain.

To put it bluntly, let’s assume he deploys the spell to hang over the wall like now, and throws in a million-strong army from outside the wall.

It means that when the spell is dispelled, a significant number of that million-strong army will appear inside the walls.

This is why it’s called a balance-fucked-up game.

“How about it? And although it’s random, if they are in a group, they won’t be separated. That’s an essential point for necromancers like us.”

Count Calvenia spoke with passion.

He must be trying to express that he will win this battle.

So, let's join forces and easily drive out the Imperial army—that would be his argument.

However, what I want are not these things.

I already know all of this.

The chip I need is information about the changes.

Information about the changes made by the World Scenario 4.0 update.

As I responded appropriately and waited with patience, the chip I wanted soon came onto the table.

“Are you worried the Princess of Blood will retaliate? Don’t worry. The cult’s movements are not directed here right now.”

“The cult?”

“Yes, the cult. A group that has revealed itself since about 10 years ago. No, actually, it seems they had been putting down roots here and there even before that. The Princess of Blood is also a member of the cult.”

Hmm.

By the way, did he not know that Tribus was a member of the cult, even though they were friends who transcended species?

It seems that the other side was serious, but Tribus didn’t say anything.

He reaps what he sows.

Who told him to be friends with a psychopath murderer anyway?

“Anyway, the cult plans to strike the Empire first. Next will be the Theocracy, the City-State Alliance, and then the dwarves. Those human bastards also know that they can’t do anything to us, who are bound by the [Bloodline], before the Duke awakens.”

“Keehee, it’s because they can’t go against the Duke’s will anyway, I see.”

“That’s right. That’s also why they drew the Princess in. They intend to win her over as soon as the Duke awakens from his slumber. So we must create a new [Bloodline] before the Duke awakens. If we don’t want to become slaves to those fanatics.”

A series of high-level pieces of information were given.

Who the cult follows.

Who the cult forces are within the vampires.

And how the cult bastards are planning to target the Empire.

“So, I’m asking you to join me. We get along quite well, don’t we?”

With this, I’ve gotten everything I could get.

I looked down blankly at the wine glass the Count had offered me.

It’s not an easy thing to push away someone who shows me almost unlimited goodwill.

But there is a fact I must never forget.

“Let’s kill all those filthy and dirty humans, and the two of us will build a kingdom of the dead together. Didn’t you detest humans as much as I do?”

Count Calvenia is an enemy.

He and humans cannot coexist.

Tribus became his friend because he gave up on being human.

But I am, and will continue to be, human.

“And who knows? Perhaps we can create a Bloodline that you can join?”

I remember the promise I made in front of Deputy Teren’s grave.

I have people to save.

Olif, Brol, Karen, and my squad members are probably fighting for their lives against the undead somewhere in the labyrinth at this very moment.

I told them to survive.

I shouted that I would save them.

“Keeheehee….”

I lifted my head and let out a sigh.

Perhaps because I have mastered vampire school spells up to a high circle, I can feel it clearly.

That the initiative of the power imbued in this space belongs to him.

In the game, too, the [Calvenia’s Waning Moon Labyrinth] spell gives an enormous buff to the caster within the cavity.

Even if I were to drop an [Infernal Meteor] here, it would be impossible to kill him.

But I don’t need an Infernal Meteor.

I have another spell.

[[Soul Absorption] is active.]

I look at the corpses piled up like a hill.

Those are primitive soul cores.

Corpses processed with a ritual modified from [Blood Sacrifice], literally pickled in the mana of necromancy.

Tribus' further developed [Soul Absorption] can use them without much difficulty.

“Just you and I… Hmm?”

I stretch out my hand and feel the mana slumbering within it.

The efficiency of my use of it will probably be several times better than Count Calvenia’s.

Feeling my senses expand to their fullest, I cast the spell.

A brand-new spell I copied from him.

[[Calvenia’s Waning Moon Labyrinth] is active.]

THUMP.

For a moment, the space ripples.

Swoooosh-

The black curtain I saw on the wall begins to spread out from me.

“What are you doing now….”

The instantly expanded black curtain soon disappeared outside the cavity.

The Count's expression is a sight to behold.

It makes sense.

He must be feeling it too.

The fact that he is no longer the absolute ruler of this place.

“What have you, done?”

“Who knows.”

The mana consumed is close to zero.

Because I used almost all the mana drawn from the corpses he had piled up.

A sense of liberation I had felt only once in Tribus' dungeon.

Feeling the freedom of my stuffy mana pool expanding infinitely, I said to him.

“Your spell was awesome.”

* * *

The command post, rising tall in the middle of Wolfskrig.

Gabir was looking down at the front line with his aide and royal guard.

“…….”

It was a scene of pandemonium.

The noise of steel clashing against steel. Flowing blood and pouring fire. The neighing of horses. The screams of people. The chanting of spells. Explosions. Fire and ice and wind. The wails of the dying.

The raw face of the battlefield was revealed in the fortress, lit up as bright as day.

It was the middle of the night, several hours after the sun had set, but countless torches and the priests’ miracles were still illuminating the inside of the castle.

A few weak points caught Gabir's eye.

Mages using voice transmission magic immediately relayed his orders to the field commanders.

The soldiers moved.

The holes were quickly filled.

“Your Grace the Archduke. A messenger from the metal school has arrived.”

“Let him in.”

A royal guard knight opened the door, and a messenger entered.

The messenger, his beard singed in places, spoke with a twitch.

“The metal school mages and the scholars from the College of Engineering say that the preparations for the bombardment are complete.”

“I see. Is there anything else?”

“…The moment the curtain lifts, they boasted that the designated coordinates would be turned into a flatland. They also joked that the ground would become so soft that restoration work would be easy.”

At a nod of his head, the messenger bowed deeply and retreated.

The reason he had listed unnecessary details was probably because he was afraid of the Archduke’s own ability.

He was afraid of being blamed for intentionally hiding something if he had failed to mention some facts.

It was not a rare occurrence.

Everyone in the Empire feared his blue eyes.

Except for one person.

No, now it was except for two.

‘Ash.’

It had been years.

Since an Imperial citizen had not avoided his gaze.

And he was a mere mercenary mage, with no outstanding status, ability, or anything else.

That’s why it was a shame.

The fact that he had no choice but to die.

“…….”

Gabir turned his head.

The southwestern wall area was the only place in the fortress where darkness had fallen.

There was a curtain there.

A hemispherical curtain of fog that seemed to swallow all light and noise.

“There is still no reaction. We’ve tried hitting it with mortars and mid-circle spells, but it seems to absorb everything.”

“And holy power?”

“The same. There was no effect from [Judgment of Light] either.”

The gray-haired aide said.

Gabir sighed inwardly.

An hour ago, Count Calvenia’s spell had swallowed the southwestern wall area.

The entire force deployed on the southwestern wall, approximately 700 mercenaries and 300 Imperial soldiers, were swept away by the curtain of fog.

Since then, the curtain had not let out a single point of light or a single line of sound.

A few paladins, unable to overcome their burning faith, had jumped in, but it was the same.

That spell was a labyrinth with no escape.

Just as the Emperor himself had said.

“It is as His Majesty said. If things after the spell is dispelled also go as predicted, an undead army of no less than ten thousand will reveal itself inside the walls.”

As the aide said, this was the Emperor’s strategy.

Sending mercenaries primarily for reconnaissance.

And deducing the internal strife of the Vampire Archduchy just by looking at the banners.

From pinpointing the Viscount’s location with the power of the secret knight order, to predicting that the southwestern wall would be the main attack point.

To anticipating that the bastard would use a spell and devising a strategy to give the flesh and take the bone.

“For a moment when an army of ten thousand is gathered within a radius of several hundred meters… if we project unlimited firepower into that narrow area, even they won’t be able to withstand it.”

The problem was the sacrifice of our own troops.

The labyrinth created by Calvenia was not a spell that would unconditionally kill those who entered.

According to the plan, the Count’s army would be annihilated, but the surviving friendly troops in the labyrinth would also all be killed in action.

What awaited them was the bombardment of a formidable weapon created by the Imperial University, which even the nobles hardly knew about yet.

That’s why the Emperor chose mercenaries.

Because if it was a piece to be sacrificed anyway, mercenaries were better than Imperial soldiers.

‘It can’t be helped.’

That day, the Emperor had said.

‘Even Luark shines his light on everyone, so how can I, a mere human, weigh the value of life? But still… it must be my destiny to commit such a terrible atrocity.’

He had said it with a look Gabir himself had never seen before, shedding tears.

‘I’m sorry for getting you involved, Gabir.’

‘…Not at all, Your Majesty. May you live a long and prosperous life.’

That day, he had realized it once again.

The enormous weight placed on a monarch’s shoulders.

The traces of humanity he had to carve away himself to raise the slowly collapsing Empire.

Because he knew that, he decided to be loyal.

He was also a being who did not fear his own blue eyes.

A king born with the heart of a monarch, who did not waver one bit in the face of any pressure.

‘Still, it’s a shame. To think I’ll never be able to see those eyes again.’

The death of mercenary captain Ash was practically a confirmed situation.

It was unavoidable.

Although he had reported him as a candidate for the Imperial family’s secret knight order a while ago, it seemed the Emperor’s interest was only fleeting.

The Empire is vast, and there are many talented people.

The potential of a mere mercenary captain was not a matter of great importance to the Emperor.

Thump-thump-thump!

Someone knocked on the door.

The door opened without permission.

“Cancel the bombardment immediately. No, have them stand by until ordered.”

A man striding in, stepping on the carpet.

A typically handsome young man with bright blond hair, blue eyes, and clear features.

“We greet His Majesty the Emperor!”

“We greet His Majesty the Emperor!”

Gabir was flustered.

The Emperor’s whereabouts were a secret.

Of course, all the key figures in this command post knew, but just in case, they had agreed to communicate through magic from another room.

“Gabir.”

“Yes.”

“The spells overlapped. This is a variable. A variable that no one could have predicted.”

The Emperor’s eyes were shining.

It was a light of interest, rarely seen from him.

“It seems someone has stolen… Count Calvenia’s spell.”