Following Oswell, Ian arrived at Hugo’s residence and was first briefed on the situation regarding the subjugation force.
“The subjugation force has retreated to Ansen, and the operation has been canceled.”
“Is that so?”
The cancellation of the operation and the retreat of the troops weren’t inherently problematic. There could be multiple reasons for their withdrawal—logistical failures, an assessment that the monster population was beyond their capacity to handle, or perhaps…
‘Or maybe Collin started a rebellion.’
But Ian was certain Collin wouldn’t rebel. He hadn’t served long enough in the territory to grow resentful, and Ian had recognized his worth and taken him in when he had nowhere else to go. Loyalty was far more likely than rebellion.
Moreover, Hubert was there. Overpowering Hubert alone would be a monumental task—how could a rebellion succeed so easily?
‘Besides, our Rosen soldiers wouldn’t just stand by. They’d turn their blades on the rebels immediately. Even if some joined the rebellion, the locals would grab their axes and hunt them down.’
Many in the territory were fiercely loyal to Schrantz and his family. The hardened northerners, farmers included, wouldn’t hesitate to take up arms.
‘Unless… did they suffer near-total losses in the subjugation?’
If so, Oswell and Hugo’s grim reactions made sense.
‘But with Schrantz’s soldiers, that shouldn’t have happened…’
It seemed unlikely, but he couldn’t dismiss the possibility entirely.
‘What if the Nase soldiers panicked and fled at the sight of monsters?’
The Nase troops, currently regarded as undisciplined rabble within Schrantz, could have been the weak link.
‘I thought Collin could pull it off, but…’
Without the urgency of wartime, perhaps their approach had been too lax, leading to failure. Had they lost too many elites?
Suppressing his unease, Ian listened intently with a tense expression.
“They’ve discovered undead monsters in the uncharted territory.”
“……”
Hugo’s words took Ian completely by surprise.
“Word hasn’t spread yet, but it will soon. We must exterminate the undead before panic sets in—but how do we kill something that refuses to stay dead?”
[Quest ‘Appearance of the Undead’ has been triggered.]
<Appearance of the Undead>
Objective: Exterminate undead (0/?)
―Eliminate the sudden emergence of undead hordes.
Reward: Contribution-based rewards.
As the quest notification appeared, Ian’s face stiffened.
While it was a relief that the subjugation force hadn’t suffered heavy losses, an entirely new problem had arisen. Now he understood why Oswell had summoned him with such a dark expression.
‘Oh, come on! Is Lady Luck even on my side anymore?!’
Of all the random encounters, why did it have to be this one?
A Meta Pangaea random encounter—one he’d overlooked—had just activated.
‘Why, out of all things, did it have to be this damn quest?!’
First, monster uprisings, and now undead?
It felt like the world was conspiring to screw him over.
And to make it worse, it was the most universally hated quest among players.
The unspecified kill count meant the undead would multiply in real time if left unchecked. The longer it dragged on, the harder it would become.
If he didn’t act fast, the situation would spiral out of control.
He needed to resolve this as quickly as possible.
Ian quickly ran through the most effective ways to deal with undead.
‘Divine magic.’
Holy magic was the natural counter to undead.
‘But there’s no one in this territory who can use it.’
The territory didn’t even have a small monastery—hoping for a holy magic user was wishful thinking.
Dismissed.
‘Next, mithril.’
The most effective weapons against undead were mithril-based. Unlike trolls, undead could regenerate, but wounds inflicted by mithril weapons couldn’t be healed.
But this wasn’t feasible either.
While the territory produced some mithril, the quantity was limited.
Only Olgrim could forge mithril weapons, and even then, the process was time-consuming.
‘Right now, only Hubert and I have mithril weapons.’
They had planned to make three, but Hugo’s was still in progress. Two had been completed just before the Schrantz raid, but the third was still being crafted with meticulous care.
Even if it were finished immediately, three weapons wouldn’t be enough.
Dismissed.
‘Melt silver into weapons?’
Silver was less effective than mithril but still useable against undead.
But this, too, was impractical.
In a pinch, they could melt down silver coins to craft makeshift silver weapons. The cost wasn’t the issue—time was.
‘By the time the silver weapons are ready, the undead numbers will have doubled.’
Again, dismissed.
‘Then the only option is the standard approach—trusting the soldiers.’
He’d have to rely on the troops’ capabilities.
“Father. I’ll handle this. I know how to exterminate the undead.”
“Truly?”
Hugo’s face brightened instantly. He trusted Ian to solve this, just as he had before.
“I’ll prepare to depart immediately.”
“Now?”
“Yes. The subjugation force is already stationed in Ansen—we don’t need additional reinforcements. We’ll manage with them.”
Hugo hesitated briefly, then turned to Oswell.
“Sir Oswell. Accompany Ian.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Still uneasy about sending him without backup, Hugo assigned Oswell to join him. Ian didn’t refuse—having Oswell at his side would be reassuring.
Once the decision was made, Ian hurried out.
Nea, who had been waiting outside, followed him.
“Nea, where’s Sera?”
“She’s probably in the alchemy lab.”
“Call her—no, I’ll go myself. It’ll be faster.”
Ian headed straight for Sera’s location.
“Young Master, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
Sera set down her alchemy tools as Ian entered her workshop unannounced. Her tone carried mild reproach – she’d previously advised him against visiting her quarters for trivial matters to maintain his dignity. Just as she prepared to deliver another lecture about proper decorum-
“We’re going somewhere. Pack your things – you’re leaving immediately.”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
The audible gulp betrayed her realization that this wasn’t a social call.
“There’s been… complications in the frontier.”
“Complications?”
“Serious enough that I’ve been mobilized. And I need a mage.”
The implication hung between them – she was being deployed.
“Understood. I’ll prepare at once.”
Her immediate compliance made Ian blink in surprise.
“Why the look?”
“I expected at least some hesitation. You agreed suspiciously fast.”
Sera’s soft chuckle carried notes of amusement. “Do you think so little of this Dobina village girl? I took down a goblin raid at ten – with friends, yes, but the claws were real.”
The steel beneath her words reminded Ian of Schrantz’s harsh truth – only the strong survived. While monsters occasionally wandered into Dobina, its defenses meant few villagers had actual combat experience.
‘Perfect timing. I’ve been wondering about my limits.’
Though her magical training had progressed remarkably, the lack of practical application left her uncertain of her true capabilities. The prospect of finally unleashing her full power sent thrilling anticipation coursing through her veins.
‘Besides, I won’t be on the frontlines.’
As a valued mage, she’d remain protected among the troops, simply following Ian’s orders from relative safety. More importantly-
‘I’ll finally prove useful beyond brewing half-elixirs.’
The realization that Ian still needed her kindled warm satisfaction in her chest.
‘Why is she smiling? Who gets happy about going to war?’
Ian found her reaction baffling but relieving – he’d been prepared to drag her along even at the cost of loyalty points. With Sera’s cooperation, their chances improved significantly.
“Good. Go pack and wait. I’ll collect you shortly.”
“Yes, my lord. Until then.”
Her formal bow couldn’t hide her eagerness as she departed.
‘Wait… did I mention the undead part?’
A twinge of guilt surfaced – he’d only referenced “complications.”
‘Too late now. She agreed without asking details.’
Shrugging off the concern, Ian turned to more pressing preparations.
***
“Gods damn it! We bust our asses training just to get shipped to this gods-forsaken hole, and now undead? What fresh hell is this?”
“Tell me about it. Just our fucking luck.”
“Between the brutal drills and this shit-show, desertion’s looking real tempting.”
The grumbling Nase soldiers – originally selected for monster suppression – now found themselves guarding an Adoran merchant caravan to Ansen. The mission change came after both the operation’s cancellation and undead sightings.
Though no walking corpses had reached Ansen yet, the terrified merchants had begged Collin for escorts. With delayed shipments threatening the territory’s stability, he’d reluctantly agreed.
“Will you maggots shut your traps? What, you’ll die if you stop whining for five seconds?”
“Desert? Try it. I’ll personally skin you alive.”
The snarled threats came from across the wagon train – The Rosen troops clearly hated their Nase counterparts.
Tension crackled as the two factions exchanged venomous glares.
“Got a problem, worms?”
“Want to settle it blade-to-blade?”
The Rosen elites – products of Collin’s harsh training – still saw the Nase men as pathetic weaklings barely worth the steel at their hips.
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