51: They say it’s your comrades who pull you out of a pinch.

“Craft! Any sign of the antidote yet!?”

An adventurer burst through the door, soaked in sweat and shouting.

Stamina potions had already been drained dry—no need to ask how reckless he’d been.

“Making it right now! Which squad are you from!?”

“Right flank! With Alphard!”

“Damn it. It’s finally started collapsing!”

The main force had already been overrun by a horde of cockatrices, and for the past few minutes, requests for both prevention and antidote potions had poured in nonstop.

With prevention potions prioritized for the central unit, adventurers on the flanks were starting to turn to stone.

The fact that Persia’s left wing was still relatively unscathed was a small mercy.

“Can’t Alphard hold it down anymore?”

A bunch of cockatrices just poured out all at once a little while ago. Even Alphard couldn’t handle them all—he was barely keeping them in check. A good number were about to slip through. Not letting that happen… the adventurers went reckless…

Damn it… they went reckless without even a single antidote. Did they let them into town?

No. We stopped that dead in its tracks.

Even if the adventurers Alphard assigned were low-ranked… still, they did well.

Honestly, if even one cockatrice got into town, we’re done.

The damage… I can’t even imagine.

Sure, petrification might be reversed later, but cockatrices aren’t just dangerous—they’re brutal. Civilians would be crushed to death in seconds.

Adventurers who petrified themselves just to stop them? Heroes.

The antidote’s almost ready… but the central force took heavy losses too…

My petrification antidote? Legendary-grade.

With the standard antidote, petrification that usually takes hours or days would vanish in an instant.

A miracle. With this, anyone can rejoin the front lines right away.

That’s why every frontline is desperate for it.

But now we’re stuck—devoting all our effort to making the antidote means we’ve stopped making the preventative entirely.

No room left to produce the preventive. We’re stuck in a constant back-and-forth: petrified, cured, petrified again.

No. Since the main body of the cockatrices reached the central force, we’re completely on the defensive.

"Done! Half—no, three parts to the right wing, the rest to the central force!"

"What?! That can’t be—!"

An adventurer from the right wing shouts in protest. It’s cut off instantly.

"Idiot! If our central force breaks, cockatrices’ll flood in from both sides!"

The one who snapped back was the联络 officer from the central force.

He’d been waiting there, motionless, for the medicine to finish.

“U… that’s….”

“Truth is, I want all of it… not just seven parts… you understand?”

“…Yeah.”

The right-wing adventurer nodded, tears in his eyes. Might’ve been petrified already, even—part of the party, maybe.

Then the front gate slammed open again.

Crowds pouring in! Of course the lock’s already open!

“Craft!?”

“Leifan!? Did you finish setting up the barrier!?”

Leifan was supposed to be helping with the barrier on the central front.

The line was already open—no time for setup now.

“Can you do anything!? Any help at all!?”

“Then carry this barrel to the right wing!”

“Got it!”

Sorry, but Leifan’s faster than any adventurer coming from the right wing.

Leifan snatched the barrel without a word and bolted outside in an instant.

"Damn it! I’ll… I’ll fix this—no matter what!"

I downed the mana potion in one gulp, wrung every last bit of magic from myself, and rushed to finish it as fast as I could.

◆

Bad, bad, bad!

Alphard was panicking inside.

Of course, he didn’t show it. Not a single hint. If he did, the adventurers fighting alongside him would lose their nerve.

Having been a squad leader at a young age during his days as a paladin, Alphard spoke with calm precision, the opposite of his inner panic.

"Fine! You can do this! I’ll hit them head-on! Finish off the rest! Don’t let them reach the town!"

"Uh… yeah!!"

Their responses grew weaker and weaker. No surprise—earlier, they’d faced a horde of cockatrices, and nearly half their number had been grievously wounded or turned to stone.

Wounds could be healed with Healing Potions, but fear had been burned into them instead. And carrying their petrified comrades back was enough to break any spirit.

Still, they’d stood up to protect the town.

Their morale hadn’t collapsed.

Alphard plunged straight into the densest cluster of cockatrices, letting the bipedal lizard’s speed and his own strength turn them into meat chunks, one after another.

Even so, just a few. Dozens, at most.

Thanks to the lizard’s legs, he was cutting down quite a few scattered cockatrices. But the numbers pressing in kept rising, and more and more were slipping through.

Still tied up with the main cluster of cockatrices, I had to let a few others slip past.

The adventurers rushed in.

They were brave.

Lower-ranked than the central force, but driven by sheer will—no way they’d let any of them reach the town—cutting down superior cockatrices one by one.

With casualties piling up.

Lucky they’ve got healing potions stacked like mountains. No deaths yet. But not for long if this keeps up.

“…Shit!”

Where the hell did that one come from? A massive cockatrice launched itself in a huge leap, vaulting right over Alphard.

“That’s bad!”

Alphard had been focusing on the bigger cockatrices—stronger foes—but even so, one of the big ones slipped through.

Cockatrices are judged by size, and likely no adventurer here could take one down right now.

If Alphard chased after it, the line would break—no one could follow.

“Uoooooo!”

Alphard slashed the cockatrice before him, desperate to get to the other adventurers, but he didn’t need to.

“Leave it to me!”

A girl’s voice—no, the voice of Leifan, the production guildmaster, just as reliable as Craft.

She stood firm, shield raised, directly in front of the massive cockatrice charging at her, teeth bared, drool flying.

The clash echoed like a siege ram shattering a wall—impossibly, she pushed the beast back.

The cockatrice let out a strange scream.

"Everyone back! Here it comes! 'Rockslide Smash'!!!"

Leifan unleashed a hammer technique.

The cockatrice took the full force of a hardened mithril hammer strike—half its body blew apart, crashing into the ground with a thud.

Instantly finished off, dead.

"An artisan with a hammer technique? How much training did you put in? But I'm grateful!"

Alphard stopped glancing over his shoulder. He focused entirely on wiping out the cockatrices before him.

"As long as Leifan's here, I can hold on... but there's a limit, Craft!"

He called out the name of the one person who could break this deadlock, as if praying.

◆

Meanwhile, Persia's unit on the left wing had barely survived the brutal assault.

"Persia-sama! It's dangerous!"

Cocatrix collapsed, having circled around Persia’s blind spot.

Arrow from Jitarou, mixed in with the missile unit.

Funny thing—this whole line might’ve held if not for Jitarou.

“Saved! Thank you!”

“Leave it to me!”

Persia shouted her thanks. Jitarou rolled up his sleeve.

She smiled faintly, then dashed forward again across the front line.

“Hmph. Jitarou’s not bad. Next time I’m in the mood, I’ll introduce him to someone in the Elite Guard.”

Persia murmured to herself.

“Whaaat?! Seriously?! Seriously?! I’ll work my hardest, I swear!!”

“Wait—did you even hear that?!”

Thanks to Jitarou’s mysterious surge, the left wing barely held the line.

Next time! A sudden twist!