204: When your boss is useless, it’s gonna be a pain, huh

Compared to Mizuho’s defense, the monsters had grown stronger.

While advancing, the weak ones had been culled. Only powerful monsters remained. And with tens of thousands of them, it was impossible to win by any normal measure.

The monsters led by the Imperial Army were at least Cyclops-level, even if weak. The fact that the Cyclops—the so-called adventurer killers—were now the weakest level was nothing short of a nightmare.

Yet they were being torn apart like a horde of goblins. That’d be a nightmare for the Duvatten Empire, not the Maugaria Kingdom.

One of the front-line commanders stared, mouth agape, at the unbelievable sight.

“Crazy… crazy, crazy, crazy! Impossible! These monsters are a horde of strong individuals! They’re— they’re—”

Of course, even if those Mizuho warriors were unusually strong, there was no way a single company could wipe out every monster just by numbers. Still, the commander couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him.

"Those Mizuho soldiers—better take care of them quick. Dangerous if left alone."

The commander immediately filed a request with headquarters for the magic unit to obliterate the enemy with spell attacks.

◆

Meladura Duras, commander of the Emperor Dubatten’s magical army, was also present on this campaign.

He was the leader of the magic division, having brought most of his troops along.

Right now, the magic unit was frantically inscribing a summoning circle.

"Damn it! What do you mean we’re not needed yet? The battle’s already started—half a day’s gone by!"

Meldura cursed under his breath, sketching the massive sigil with frantic haste, pouring magic into every line. His apprentices and subordinates were doing the same, sweat on their brows, fingers moving fast.

"Good thing we started drawing the moment we arrived. Think we’re just some muscleheads who can sketch a sigil on a whim!?!"

The circle they were drawing was for a group ritual spell—complex, time-consuming, and meant to be used only once every few days. Yet the high-ranking officers kept sending messengers, demanding they unleash a massive spell on the spot.

"Besides, this was supposed to be a last-resort move for sieges, not some damn battlefield shortcut."

Meldura didn’t stop his work. The anger spilled from his lips, sharp and raw. Was he speaking to his students? Or just muttering to himself? Hard to tell.

Merudura’s face was tough-looking for a mage, so when he got angry, it was downright terrifying.

“After hammering into those higher-ups the pros and cons of group ritual magic, are their heads made of nothing but straw? Or something worse? It’s leaking like a sieve!”

This spell circle had to be drawn while pouring in magic power, and it was consumed in use—couldn’t be pre-drawn on cloth or anything. So the work had to be done on-site.

In a proper group ritual, lining up peers of equal strength was the most efficient. But here, we’re using Merudura and his top disciple as living mana tanks, meaning the gap in power is huge. Once the ritual’s cast, those weaker disciples won’t be able to move properly for days.

Those were the two biggest flaws.

One of the top disciples, steeling himself, finally spoke up to Merudura.

“But the improved group ritual magic your master devised—it’s truly something. With this, no matter how strong the enemy, breaking through should be a breeze.”

Merudura regains a sliver of composure, brushing off the overly eager flattery from the senior disciple who just wanted to smooth things over.

It’s flattery, sure—but the disciple’s genuine admiration is plain to see.

“Hmph. Then tell me the advantages of group ritual magic. How would it be used in a war like this?”

Merudura, calming himself, starts lecturing as usual, turning to the disciple.

“One, the power and range are drastically increased. Since mages vary in strength, casting spells individually creates uneven results. That’s bad for tactics. But with ritual magic, it’s a single, unified spell—high damage, predictable range. Perfect for a battlefield like this.”

Meludra nodded, satisfied with the apprentice’s explanation.

“That’s right. Some can only knock a few people off their feet. Others can clear a hundred in one sweep. In war, equalizing troop strength matters—but mages inevitably vary. That’s why group ritual magic is useful. It evens the playing field.”

“Yes. But I think the biggest advantage is the extended range.”

“Oh? Explain.”

“We mages are few in number, and we’re not trained for close combat. No thank you to hand-to-hand fights. But with ritual magic, we can cast from far behind the lines. That’s a big deal—both for safety and tactics.”

“Approved.”

Merudura normally disliked war and conflict. But still, as a master of collective ritual magic, he’d had this odd, contradictory wish—to test his power out here on the battlefield, just once.

"...I suppose Jabir in the kingdom will hold a grudge against Lord Bela."

He thought of the child alchemist who’d claimed the title of genius with ease.

"Still, he’s probably a dried-up old hag by now, same as me."

From the occasional academic papers he’d seen, gathered every few years, Jabir seemed healthy enough—though all his work lately had been on agriculture.

"Still stuck on that same old dream of making all of humanity peaceful, I see."

And now they were marching into the kingdom where that Jabir lived. It wasn’t surprising Merudura felt a little sentimental.

He shook his head hard to clear his thoughts.

"Right. Done. Let’s go."

"Hai!"

We keep an eye on the enemy while coordinating with the army.

In short, the front-line monsters are being charged by Mizoho warriors, so they want us to wipe them out.

Merudura uses his "Levitation" and "Far-Sight" spells to scout the battlefield. Seeing the scene, it's easy to understand why the army's higher-ups are so worked up.

"Can't believe those beasts are being ignored like that. No wonder the Mizoho Shrine Nation has managed to survive, even as a small country."

Still, the kingdom just played its ace card. If we crush this, the empire's victory is certain.

Normally, we'd save this kind of force. But throwing it at the kingdom's refugee troops? That makes perfect sense.

Merudura points out where the spell should be cast, directing his disciples.

The disciples line up along the magic circle.

"Then let us perform the collective ritual magic!"

Unlike individual spells, you can't just mentally construct the magical formula. Through the circle, with gestures and incantations, we build a unified spell.

(Who would've thought I'd end up using this magic on humans instead of monsters? And under the direction of some half-breed advisor who looks just like one. Life really does twist in the most unpredictable ways.)

A long, endless chant. Finally, the ultimate spell is complete.

All the mages’ voices merge.

"““May the scorching fires of Gehenna rain down upon any who oppose us, standing before us—eight-layered hellfire hurricane storm, INFERNAL GEHENNA STORM!!””"

It was a group ritual spell, the "Scorching Eight-Layered Hellfire Hurricane Storm"—a vile magic that rained down boiling-hot rain, like magma, lashed by a storm. Pure, unadulterated wickedness. True magic, in every sense.

Ignoring the disciples falling one after another, Meludura once more used "Float" to check the enemy's position.

And froze.