“The worth of one excellent mage is equivalent to ten excellent warriors.

“Warriors cannot project powerful firepower like mages, their long-range attack means are extremely limited, and they can’t perform special miracles. Even the weakness in close combat can be easily solved by bringing a familiar.

“Since the role that warriors can play can be somewhat replaced by just giving spears to farmers, it’s much more efficient to focus on nurturing mages.”

This statement left by a magic supremacist during the ancient era of wars caused countless debates among enthusiasts, but the general consensus was that “those words are correct”.

The reason was simple.

Mages were more “flashy” and warriors were more “plain”.

Unlike mages who shot fire, raised tempests, and poured out cold air, warriors’ ultimate moves were just hitting, kicking, stabbing, and slashing.

And such things could be done by anyone, not necessarily outstanding warriors.

Of course, warriors argued back that slicing a blade of grass and cutting through metal armor with one sword strike weren’t the same, but people generally preferred easy-to-understand visual effects.

But at this moment.

Dorothea was painfully realizing how annoying those “plain guys” could become when their level rose above a certain point.

“Block them! Stop them!!”

“Show the pride of Lennart!!”

Fast enough to easily keep up with the carriage on two legs, slicing through mana-reinforced bone armor with a single sword strike, and fearlessly attempting surprise attacks regardless of rough footing or narrow spaces.

Among these, the most annoying was their robustness and tenacity. The sight of them getting up and charging again after being hit by the carriage, stomped by horse hooves, battered by shells, and covered in poison and curses was almost awe-inspiring.

The synergy of the Lion Duke’s bloodline’s inherently high basic abilities combined with the warrior’s characteristic balanced growth was terrifying.

Such guys didn’t get sick easily, didn’t tire easily, and even needed less rest time?

There wasn’t a more reliable safety net for a commander, or a more troublesome enemy from the opposing side.

It wasn’t for nothing that the Lion Duke’s bloodline warriors had been supporting the Empire against the Magic State.

However, Dorothea couldn’t help but blurt out one thing, “…No, they should have done this during the test. Why now?”

To the opinion that if they had shown these terrifying abilities during the test, they wouldn’t have been criticized as obsolete or overrated, Sophia provided a clear answer, “Maybe they couldn’t do that during the test, even if they wanted to?”

“Why?”

“Because being beaten by Sir Tin and Adel probably hurt more than being hit by the carriage. Enough to make those tenacious people unable to move after being defeated in one go.”

“…”

It was a conclusion that left nothing to say.

What could one say when it wasn’t that they were weak, but that their allies were more monstrous?

Conversely, this meant that if such guys rose up in earnest all over the Empire, while the Tin Knight’s party might have no problem, other people would be in great trouble.

After a rough ride that would have required dozens of disposals if it had been an ordinary carriage, the Tin Knight, finally approaching the destination of the Ducal mansion, said.

[The ‘Tin Knight’ kindly advises passengers to brace for impact!]

As if replacing seat belts, skeletal hands extending from the floor firmly secured Dorothea and Sophia’s bodies.

The Tin Knight, leaping from the coachman’s seat, mounted the golem horse and enveloped himself and the horse in sword energy spread like a veil.

Like a merciless cavalry charge piercing through enemy lines, the bone armor-clad golem horse rammed into the mansion’s main gate with all its might.

Boom!

The huge and ornate metal gate, displaying the Ducal Family’s prestige, flew through the air like a piece of paper and rolled on the ground.

It was a tremendous impact that would have caused serious damage even to the golem horse without the Tin Knight’s support.

Some bloodline members, who hurriedly gathered at the sound that seemed like a bomb, had fallen, looking dumbfounded at the completely shattered main gate.

The Duke’s mansion wasn’t a single building, but a structure with several buildings arranged within a vast compound. In front of the most magnificent building among them, Dorothea returned the horse and carriage into her gloves—seemingly filling the void they left with a piles of skeletons.

The enormous quantity of animal bones were reborn as undead the moment they touched the black mana Dorothea emitted.

[■■■!]

A miracle where the number of terrorists, which was only four, suddenly swelled to four digits in an instant.

Dorothea said, “I’ll guard here to make sure no one escapes, so you clean up inside.”

“In that case, I should stay here too. After all, if you two move with determination, I’ll only get in the way with my movement speed.”

The Tin Knight and Adelaide.

The teacher and pupil nodded and then charged into the building without hesitation.

“W-what are these things!?”

“Undead! Kill that witch!!”

Radicals who popped out from various parts of the mansion tried to rush at Dorothea and Sophia after discovering them, but they couldn’t easily break through the undead army blocking their way.

Some exceptionally skilled individuals, mainly direct descendants with golden hair and violet eyes, did manage to break through by crushing the undead, but even their blades couldn’t cut down the target.

The barrier created by Dorothea’s staff alone boasted tremendous durability, and now the barrier was also imbued with Sophia’s holy power.

This joint technique was possible thanks to the Witch of the North Orin’s magic tool that prevented Dorothea’s necromancy and Sophia’s holy magic from canceling each other out.

Clang!

Seeing his blade break helplessly in front of the barrier, one golden-haired, violet-eyed young man, with a face turning red, shouted, “You, wicked witch!! Do you think you’ll be safe after antagonizing our Lion Duke’s bloodline!?”

“I think I’ll be safe?”

“What?”

To the dumbfounded young man, Dorothea returned a grin.

It was the “wicked and seductive witch’s smile” that she didn’t often show when she was with the Tin Knight.

“If the opponent were the proper Lion Duke’s bloodline, I wouldn’t mess with them easily either. The achievements and honor your ancestors built up over hundreds of years are real, after all. However—“ Dorothea continued. “That achievement and honor, you’ve thrown it all on the ground this time. And not just on dirt, but right into the mud.”

“Nonsense! We only fought against the Empress’ unjust oppression!!”

“Then you should have asserted that openly and fairly from the front,” with eyes that seemed to say, “How pathetic,” Dorothea looked at the young man. “Instead of a robber-like plan like ‘capture the enemy leadership and seize the Empire’, you should have shouted that this is unjust in front of people fairly. If you couldn’t do that, you should have kept your position through ability, or if you couldn’t do that either, you should have persevered in negotiations. ‘I don’t like this,’ ‘I can’t do that.’ You’re doing such

a great job, throwing a tantrum and crying like children as you drag all those who work hard and honestly into the swamp.”

“Don’t talk as if it’s someone else’s business! What do you know!?”

“At least I don’t think your ancestors would be happy seeing this current state?”

“No! They must be cheering for us!”

“Hmm.”

Dorothea’s gaze became infinitely arrogant.

In fact, if she wanted to, she could bury them in the undead army waiting behind instead of just having this war of words, but seeing them insisting they were right even if they were die, it didn’t seem like that would be satisfying enough.

“…I was planning to just provide support since it’s Adel’s job to resolve this, but…”

Only Sophia, who was right beside her, heard the low muttered voice.

Dorothea, extending her left hand opposite to her right hand holding the staff into the air, drew circles as if swinging something invisible.

Exactly three times counterclockwise.

Holding up the chain ring that had turned into a bird cage, Dorothea declared, “—Those who want to say something to their descendants, come out.”

Thump.

For a moment, the air pulsed.

The Lennart Duke’s mansion.

From that land where those with the Lion Duke’s blood were born, stayed, and eventually slept, souls like faint will-o’-wisps rose into the air.

And towards them, Dorothea poured out mana abundantly.

“Gasp…!”

“Huh!”

The sound of people catching their breath echoed from here and there.

The souls that had been hazy like heat haze suddenly took clear form as they absorbed Dorothea’s mana.

There was a warrior whose entire body was covered in scars. There was a scholar with a neat atmosphere wearing official robes.

There was a stiff knight who seemed to embody strictness and solemnity, and a warrior showing a wild spirit—half-naked.

There was a beauty whose looks could be described as peerless, an old man with a face full of wrinkles holding deep wisdom, and even a child smaller than Adelaide.

They had three things in common.

One, golden hair.

Two, violet eyes.

Three, they were all glaring at their descendants with faces that seemed angry about something.

“F-Father.”

The young man who had been shouting and criticizing Dorothea while asserting their righteousness until just now trembled as he saw the spirit of a middle-aged man approach.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Why, why!? We’re just trying to protect the family! So! That’s why—“

《…》

The spirit didn’t utter a word.

Without scolding the young man’s actions or rebuking his words, it just silently stared at the young man.

Perhaps for the young man, that was the strongest denial and the most scathing rebuke.

Thud.

The young man fell to his knees on the ground as if his strength had left him.

Elsewhere in the mansion, sounds of sobbing or begging for forgiveness could be heard.

“Don’t waver, everyone! This is fake! It’s just that witch’s sorcery!”

“Only we can protect Lennart! Fight to the end!”

“Damn it! Wake up!? What are you—guh!!”

Of course, the world wasn’t always like a fairy tale, so there were those who insisted they were right without any reflection, whether their ancestors’ spirits appeared or not.

Well, the result was just being bitten on the legs by the endlessly swarming undead, having their arms grabbed, and eventually being buried in the skeleton army.

Sophia marveled, “It’s amazing in many ways.”

“I’m glad there were more remaining souls than I thought. I heard the Ducal Family has several bases besides this capital, so honestly, I was expecting about half… Hmm?”

Suddenly, Dorothea’s eyes narrowed.

Rattle rattle rattle.

Her magic bird cage.

The thing that had the power to summon and stabilize souls started shaking violently, as if something had gone wrong.

Dorothea sharpened her senses to identify the cause, and soon muttered blankly, “…Underground?”

In the deepest and most profound part of the mansion.

The cage was reacting to some extremely heterogeneous and powerful “something”.

So brilliant, and infinitely intense.

Like a lump of condensed sun and lightning.

“A soul? No, residual thoughts? No, but how can mere thoughts, not even the main body, have such a presence?”

Even more peculiar was another power enveloping that lump like a shell.

Using mana but not magic, an ability of primordial emotion rather than reason and theory.

Dorothea had encountered such power a few times.

Once in the tower of a woman who repeatedly committed evil to protect her daughter.

Once on the island of a woman who chose isolation for safety.

The identity of that power was.

“—People of the underground.”

***

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