After the meteors stopped falling from the sky, all was quiet. The enemy had withdrawn after putting their all into a single attack. Cowardly… but effective.

“Guh,” while exhaling steamy breath, Bazarath let the head of his massive battle axe touch the ground. A barrier had held back the meteors at the end, but he had been prepared for that barrier to break at any moment

“Bazarath,” a well-muscled Fomor approached from the direction of old Rhathol’s village at the center of all the other encampments. “The injured have been brought to chief Rhathol for medicine and treatment.”

“Good. How many can still fight?”

The subordinate looked into his chief’s hard and steady right eye (the left one was sealed shut by a scar). He swallowed. “Seventy-two after healing.”

Bazarath drew in a sharp breath, but quickly stabilized himself. “... I see. How terrifying. If fortune is with us, they won't be quite as overpowering up close.” The excessively large and bulky chieftain saw his subordinate’s tense posture and looked at him firmly.

“Do not be afraid. We already have no choice but to fight, so we must show the enemy what we’re capable of. Besides, sending a magic like this must mean they didn't think they could win in close combat against our initial numbers. The enemy is wary of us, so stand tall.”

“Yes, Bazarath. I'm sorry.”

“No matter.” Bazarath hoisted his battle axe again, propping it against his shoulder. His gaze was pointed to the enemy’s fortress. “We must come to understand the state our allies are in. After that, we must decide whether to regather our strength or attack while the enemy is tired.”

“I'll send messengers out at once,” the subordinate said firmly, bowing his head at the neck.

“Send able-bodied people with them. It’s possible that one of the encampments has borne significantly greater loss than ours. As long as we have extra hands, they will help with the wounded.”

“I understand!”

The subordinate left, and Bazarath continued to glare at the walls of Babylon, which he could not see.

Azza’s group had better have a way to deal with their magic casters in the future. And from Azza in particular… I expected more.

***

Every breath Azza took seemed to sear her nostrils on the way out, as if there was a furnace burning in her chest.

“So, I've found you, Orc Lord!”

Though she stood before a sizable army of Orcs, only one figure occupied her vision. Indeed, standing at the very front of the enemy procession was a sturdy War Orc with unique golden hair. He was surrounded on all sides by concubines: a red pig, a blue pig, and a tan pig, with an ordinary War Orc and a fully-armored Orc to serve as his right and left hands. There was no one else here who could possibly be the one she sought to slaughter.

That was because, although Azza didn't know it, the real Orc Lord wasn't there. Varoon was simply a mutated War Orc (due to his Golden Boar heritage), who was standing with his mother, sister, and mate, at the front of his other sister’s army. There was no way for Azza to come up with such a complicated solution when a much simpler one was right in front of her.

The others turned their heads to look at Varoon when he was accused of being their Lord. The man in question was tragically used to being mistaken this way, so his only reaction was to tilt his chin up and snort in irritation.

He did stop himself from correcting her, though.

This misunderstanding fit well with their strategy, in which Vyra was to remain undetected while striking from above. If he pretended to be the Orc Lord for now, and that kept the enemy from discovering the actual Orc Lord, then that would be perfect.

“Brilliant, you’ve found me,” Varoon responded in flawless Fomor language. This woman can teleport. Before she regains her senses and leads reinforcements here, we have to pin her down. “Say, I saw some rocks falling in that direction. You don't suppose any idiots got hit, do you?”

Azza exhaled a mouth full of steam. Fomors had flat teeth, but the teeth of Small Baphomets were all razor sharp. Her eyes that she was glaring with were becoming bloodshot to a worrying extent, and a vein was pulsing furiously on her temple.

, she chanted coldly within her thoughts. She then rushed at the War Orc, aiming her sharpened nails at his throat. Varoon tried to raise his arms in a block, but found that his entire body was fixed in place.

But he wasn't the only person present who realized that. As a matter of course, during the war council they had held, Fiara had informed everybody of the female Small Baphomet who could teleport and fix people in place with Spacetime magic. They also knew that skills and spells could still be used while a person was restricted.

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In Varoon’s case, that knowledge was close to worthless. All of his useful skills required his body to move, which was impossible under the given situation. Still, it wasn't like he was alone on the front lines.

!

!

Simultaneously, the two who were able to attack with magic shot spells at the goat-headed Monster. Azza was furious, but she was still an expert at magic combat, so she immediately dodged out of the way, glaring at the “Orc Lord’s” two “concubines”. The two spells collided in the air, causing a small explosive force, but Varoon was unharmed. Ironically, he had been protected by the spatial barrier surrounding his body.

“Protecting your Lord is admirable, but I’ll kill you if you interfere,” Azza growled at the women.

“My. But if you seal “our Lord’s” movements like that, we don't have a choice,” Oolga replied coyly.

Azza scowled and took another look at her opponents in order to calculate her next move. However, something struck her as strange.

Where’s the Earth magic caster?

The red concubine was a Fire magic caster and the blue concubine was a Water magic caster. Was the tan concubine an Earth magic caster? The red pig had a weapon, so just because the tan pig had a weapon didn't mean she couldn't use magic.

Of course, that must be the case. The reason she didn't also cast a spell must be because she had used all her Magic Power casting earlier.

“Is that how it is?” after glaring for a while, Azza finally responded to the red concubine’s words. “Fine.”

And the Small Baphomet disappeared from her place, reappearing a few feet above them and to their left.

!

!

!

In order to avoid being shot at and make use of her own strengths, Azza had fired a spell at Varoon from a distance; however, she had been forced to teleport again to escape the fire spell that was launched directly at her, and an ice spell had blocked her attack.

Feeling her heart race, Azza looked at the red pig, who was smiling tauntingly. The blue pig had conjured an ice wall that completely surrounded their Lord; obviously she hadn't known where the next attack would come from. The red pig had used a precision-based attack spell because she knew exactly where Azza would be.

I’ll have to take this one out first, Azza realized.

As if to test Oolga’s ability to detect her, Azza teleported again, this time appearing in the air behind her. A was precisely directed at her, but this time she wasn't surprised. She immediately countered with an overwhelming Magic intended to swallow up both the red Orc’s attack and the red Orc herself.

!

It was a spell that made her feel dizzy to use, thanks to sucking out so much Magic Power in one go, but it was a spell that could route all but the most powerful foes. The reason for that lay in the structure of the spell itself. It was a simple attack which would forcibly repopulate a given area with as many Demonic spirits as the caster could produce. Since artificial spirits already tended to dominate their environments, it had an even higher efficiency than the original of the Lightning attribute. As all other spirits in range were forced out and Demonic spirits took their place, typical life became impossible.

It was a simple spell, and there was an equally simple method for blocking it: surround yourself with a barrier. If the spirits present in the ’s range refused to be ousted, the destructive force would be blocked at its roots. It was just the basic principles of Magic attack and defense brought to their extremes.

As the photonegative light flashed, a blazing fire rose against it. Both illuminations faded and Oolga was perfectly unharmed.

“Tch. Blocking my with a mere : you’re a gifted fire magic caster.”

Oolga said nothing, and Azza used the same spell again with bloodshot eyes. The ashes surrounding the red Orc could not be reduced to any lesser form, but the Orc herself was unharmed.

“How dare you--! The spell Lord Baythes gave me as his chosen--!” Panting from rage and exhaustion, Azza used a third time in a row. This was the absolute limit for her, and the farthest any among the current generation of Small Baphomets were able to push into the Sin Lord’s realm. Azza was already too tired to notice that she had been gradually descending closer to ground level, yet the red Orc was still completely fine.

“Impossible!”

“Are you done?” Oolga tilted her head and smiled serenely. “My precious daughter was injured quite terribly by this spell. It's nice to see one of you look so miserable now that it's proven useless.”

“How could you block it so easily three times in a row?!” Azza’s pride as a magic caster demanded this knowledge above everything else.

“I didn't really block it.” Flames started to flicker to life on the surface of the red Orc’s skin and clothes; the same ones Azza had seen each time after attacking. “It’s just a racial property: as a Mayhem Orc, my body is cursed to host only fire spirits and no others. At the same time, there’s no way these fire spirits will abandon my body while I'm still in good health. Fundamentally, an attack like can't harm me unless you do something to weaken me first.”

“Such an absurd thing,” Azza felt numb, “that’s impossible.”

But then she felt a large hand sift through her mane from behind and tighten around her neck.

W-what?!

Thanks to the force of gravity straining her neck wouldn't increase, but the grip strength of the hand alone seemed like it would be enough to crush it. She couldn't turn her head, so Azza used to look behind at who had grabbed her. Who had dared to intervene in this fight?

She saw a sturdy War Orc with unique golden hair.

“Your spell wore off,” he said plainly, tightening his fingers by a small amount.

A choking sound escaped Azza’s mouth. Her eyes bugged out, and she stuck her tongue out like she was going to gag. She dealt a few powerful kicks at Varoon’s legs and torso, but he seemed to be able to just shrug them off.

required too much focus; it was impossible for her to use in this situation, but attacking would use up the Magic Power she would need to escape… and more.

That being the case, Azza resolved herself to at least take down the enemy in front of her.

Varoon released the Small Baphomet’s limp body and dusted his hands together. Like I would wait for you.