Chapter 206

Chapter 206 - Conquistador (7)

The formal name of the jungle is tropical rainforest. As the name suggests, it rains often.

Swoooosh!

Divide, where Eugene's army is stationed, and the neighboring bases were met with a fierce rain shower.

"It is rain that will fall for at least 3 days."

"Everyone heard that, right? The start of the operation is postponed."

The sortie was delayed on the advice of Yakson, who is familiar with the local climate.

It felt draining right before the charge, but no one complained. Because marching in the rain in the jungle is a crazy act.

A Dark Elf female warrior wearing pants close to hot pants rolled hither and thither in the cabin. She is cooling her heat by pressing her limbs against the cold wooden floor.

A female warrior cut with a short cut sat at the edge of the cabin and stretched her legs out. Wetting her feet in the pouring raindrops, she fanned her sweaty chest.

"It's much better since it rains."

"Because it's cool?"

"There's that, and we'll be able to sleep soundly for a while, right?"

"Ah! That's right!"

They sighed and checked their insect repellent incense and earplugs.

Eugene's army wasn't tormented by bugs thanks to the generously supplied mosquito nets and the tribal witches accompanying the army.

- Chirrrp chirrrp!

- Keuyaayak! Keuyaayak!

- Kkuhuk! Kkuhuk! Kkuhuk!

However, the cries of birds chirping as if struggling, monkeys screaming bizarrely, and other unidentified insects were simply unsolvable.

Because this isn't something that can be blocked with medicine or mosquito nets. The Dark Elves with bright hearing suffered especially.

Right now they can at least wear earplugs since they are resting in a safe base, but this will also be troubling later when they enter an all-out war situation with the Rakshas.

Since they can't sleep with their ears plugged when they don't know when the enemies will launch a night attack.

"It is really reassuring to have you guys here."

"Hahaha! Your Excellency only needs to trust us. Aren't we Dwarves of perseverance? We are warriors who always put forth 100% of our combat power."

"Except for the desert. We don't even earn money there, so I wish we wouldn't go there in the future... Hehe."

On the other hand, Rampage and the Hammer Brothers centurions smiled beamishly.

Their sense of hearing is roughly the same as humans, but their guarding ability in the jungle was superior. This is because they sensitively detect the vibration of the ground and also feel the movement of the air through their beards.

'We can see our families soon!'

It is them who are recently establishing merits in succession. If they just finish this expedition well, they will be able to petition the Dwarf Kingdom as the next teleportation location.

"By the way, Your Excellency's adaptability is also good. It shouldn't be easy for a noble to eat something like this."

"A crocodile shouldn't particularly be a difficult food either, though?"

Eugene and the Dwarves were roasting and eating a crocodile the size of a dog. It had snow-white flesh like whitefish, but tasting like chicken, it was quite a delicacy in its own way.

"If it were another high noble, they would have been carving a veal dish with wine even in a place like this."

"This is the jungle. If you try to seek gastronomy in a place like this, dozens of people could truly die off."

The deeper you go into enemy territory, the exponentially harder maintaining supply lines becomes. You must also get used to food obtained locally.

* * *

After the rain stopped, Eugene's army sortied towards the Rakshas' stronghold.

The Cat-folk, seeing the march of a fully armed army for the first time, watched with faces mixed with wonder and anticipation.

"Grandpa. Will they be able to defeat the Rakshas?"

"Of course they will."

An old Cat-folk with dull gray fur said.

"Their numbers are too small. The Rakshas are much more."

"In war, numbers are not important. What's important is the smell."

"The smell?"

"Try smelling the scent of blood and iron exuding from that army. It tells how much slaughter they have carried out, and how many killing tools and un-dying tools they have."

The old Cat-folk closed his eyes and sniffed his nose noisily. As if judging the grade by the density of the iron smell.

"It's as if each of those warriors possesses 10 extra lives."

"Then they will definitely win!"

"But this grandpa is worried about after they win. Since those who crossed the ocean invariably harbor the parasite of greed."

However, it was also true that there was no other way in the face of a massive crisis.

To the Cat-folk, gold is merely a pretty yellow stone. It doesn't matter if they take all the gold mines as they please.

If only they could preserve their peaceful lives and the land inherited generation after generation.

What they can do right now is only to pray for the victory of the foreigner's army.

"The Goddess guides us. Do not be anxious, everyone."

Some Cat-folk gathered their hands and prayed before the priestess of Vanas, the Goddess of Tolerance.

If it were a god served by such a powerful army, a god ruling over fire, destruction, or thunder would be fitting, so it was unexpected.

Tolerance.

The Cat-folk felt interest in a concept unfamiliar in jungle life.

"Is it different from mercy? Mister Yakson always keeps it on his lips."

Since Yakson chose the life of a protector rather than a missionary, he no longer speaks the doctrines of the Main God Church. However, he always preached about mercy everywhere.

The priestess smiled radiantly at the Cat-folk kid.

"Mercy is something used only when helping the weak, but tolerance is useful even when accepting the strong."

Fitting for a warrior tribe, the way the Dark Elf priestesses understood the concept of tolerance was also somewhat bellicose.

"There are too many threats lurking in this world. You guys also know that well."

"Yes. Grandma also cried missing our village this morning."

There are more than a couple of Cat-folk who abandoned their endangered villages and evacuated to Divide.

"The Lord, who is the sword of the Goddess, is trying to drive away such threats. To do that, a lot of strength is needed. Tolerance is guiding those strengths so they don't hurt each other, but only head towards the enemies."

"We are not strong, though."

"It's okay. Since swinging a weapon isn't the only strength. A truly strong army requires really a lot of things."

The priestess of Vanas hugged and stroked the Cat-folk kids.

The children also liked the soft and warm touch of the Dark Elf's skin without fur. They dug deeply into her embrace and acted like babies.

Was it that the strong don't survive, but those who survive are the strong?

The faith that crossed the dangerous and distant ocean to first sow seeds in the blue ocean. It isn't the prominent sects of the old continent.

A pitiful Goddess who once degenerated into the tools of slave traders, then faced the crisis of even her name being forgotten after her believers became 0.

The name of Vanas began taking root in the jungle.

* * *

It is a troubling matter for an army of 2500 people to all cross the jungle. They decided to move a portion via waterways.

Anyway, in order to smoothly transport the injured or supply materials, an transportation means via the river is essential. Since it's impossible to load the injured onto stretchers and traverse the jungle.

"Oh my god. They really hollowed out that huge tree entirely!"

As a result, a large military log boat was created. The natives stared with a fed-up look at the monster-like boat floating proudly on the river.

The Dwarves have no know-how in ship manufacturing, but a log boat that is merely felling a tree and hollowing out the inside can be made without problem.

Since insanely large trees are common here, a transport ship capable of boarding a century of soldiers is also a piece of cake.

"Setting sail!"

"Ooh!"

At the dwarven decurion's shout, 30 oars moved in perfect unison.

The Dwarves just don't have occasions to grab oars, but their strength, endurance, and coordination are second to none.

"Row slowly! You guys have to hold out in the front lines even after landing!"

"It's fine, it's fine. We can even wield a pickaxe all day long, so what's mere rowing like this."

The boat in the jungle advancing while cutting the water current at a tremendous speed.

"If you suddenly use muscles you haven't been using, your shoulders will go out!"

"Huh? What did you say?"

"Hey, you idiots!"

The Dark Elf female warriors held their waists and sighed.

Dwarves and Fairy folk. They are natively bickering with each other, but time changes everything.

Sharing joys and sorrows, traveling various parts of the world together, sharing exotic dishes, breaking through battlefields while dividing roles as tankers and strikers, and competing in drinks and sports at the Moving Castle during peacetime.

Such times gifted even the most self-righteous Dark Elf with at least one Dwarf friend.

Gradually, a repulsive affection was turning into plain affection, and plain affection into something you could call friendship.

"Watch out for the thicket side at the estuary. The Raksha bastards have no crossbow technology and their bows are crude, but their throwing spears alone are powerful."

On the boat, Dwarves holding heavy crossbows and Dwarves holding oars alternately took charge of guard duty and rowing.

"How deep is this anyway? There should be something visible."

These are Dwarves who are scared of water even normally. The jungle river rippling in brown is fear itself.

- Are you really sure you can steer it? Just in case it sinks...

- Excellency. We will make it sturdy so it absolutely won't sink. Besides, what oars would those frail young ladies grab? They will be panting and puffing unable to last even 30 minutes.

- Hmm.

In reality, rowing is considerable heavy labor. The only ones who can handle the operation of a military-purpose ship and even preserve their combat power are the Dwarves.

"Does it feel real to everyone? Until just a few months ago, we were watching icebergs drift away at the northern end of the world. But now we've flown to the western end and are rowing?"

"There's no guarantee this is the western end either."

"True."

Mercenaries usually become arrogant as their experiences increase. However, following Eugene, the more experiences they gained, the more humble they became instead.

The world is gigantic beyond imagination and numerous mysterious secrets are hidden within. Realizing that every moment made them feel smaller instead.

Just the existence that popped out from among the aquatic plant mangroves over there right now, who would have even expected it?

"My, fuck!"

"W-What is that?!"

A snake torso with the thickness of a grown man's embrace floated up over the rippling brown water surface.

The predator dividing the river along with the black crocodile. It is an anaconda.

The Dwarves valiantly attack even monsters like Trolls or Minotaurs, but the matchup was bad.

A combination of reptiles, which they instinctively shun, and being above water, to boot.

"Don't shoot! There is no need to provoke it pointlessly! Since he said the bastard won't touch us if we are on the boat."

"Are you kidding? It's coming straight this way!"

"Shut up and don't shoot! If by chance the boat flips while it flails..."

The anaconda aggressively bumped the side of the boat, then changed direction and passed by next to them as if saying, 'Huh? What's this? There's wood floating on top?'.

"..."

"I-It seems it already finished its meal? With a substantial guy at that."

The Dwarves clearly saw one part of the anaconda's torso bulging in a bizarre shape. It was a size sufficient for one Dwarf to go in.

The anaconda didn't show its head until the end. Being submerged over the brown water surface and floating up repeatedly, showing only its body sneakily. That was rather even more terrifying.

"If we tell them when we go back to our hometown, will they actually believe it?"

"If there's any bastard who doesn't believe it, just tell me. Since we'll all swarm them and beat them up."

Watching the receding anaconda, the Dwarves let out a hollow laugh.

* * *

"From here on is those bastards' territory. Always watch out for booby traps, and refrain from reckless pursuit after engagements. If you don't want to see the ground suddenly cave in and your foot get punctured."

Eugene guided the unit, instructing once again what he had requested countless times.

"Lord. There is a ground hornet nest on the path ahead. It will take 2 minutes to eliminate it."

When Eugene nodded, two female warriors of the Caracal Special Ops force advanced holding a very dense net and log kit.

Eugene looked at Sasha following closely beside him.

"You aren't feeling stuffy?"

"No. Tough clothes. Feeling of reliably protecting. Very good."

Sasha, wearing the nomad's special armor, smiled beamingly. Though her expression is one thing, unlike other Rakshas, her fangs are not exposed, making her look naive.

'They say even a fox changes its impression quickly like a dog when domesticated.'

When Eugene fixed and tied her leather helmet strap, Sasha smiled happily.

This feeling of being protected by a powerful leader after always being abused and despised by the same kin. The Rakshas who came as envoys, including Sasha, felt an indescribable sense of stability.

That sense of stability is a gift bestowed by evolution in return for taking away their viciousness and combat power.

"Path over there. Must have overflowed because of the rain. Must go left."

It is Sasha's tribe that had wandered widely across the Raksha territory to seek vegetables and fruits to eat. Therefore, they possessed recently updated geographical information.

Of course, Eugene also doesn't trust her 100%. He merely uses it for reference, but it has been a considerable help so far.

Thwip!

Thump!

"Eek!"

An arrow flew from behind and shot down a parrot on a tree branch. Startled, Sasha hid behind Eugene.

"Morianna."

"Yes!"

When a senior soldier of the Caracal Special Ops picked up the dead parrot and threw it backward, a recruit caught it and started cleaning it with a dagger.

Whether big or small, whenever prey in sight appears, they catch it whenever they have a chance and are carrying out local supply.

Just now, capybaras resting by the river were kidnapped whole as a family. Oh! Condolences to their fate!

"Decurions are to check the condition of your subordinates' feet at every break. If dry socks are lacking, report immediately without being conscious of others."

The middle managers, who had been warned enough to develop calluses on their ears about non-combat losses including trench foot, inspected the troops frequently.

Eugene's army, which was advancing smoothly, passed through abandoned Cat-folk villages. The first two places were empty, but from the third, Rakshas were occupying them.

"Hate smell! Hate smell!"

"■■■! ■■ wearing blood armor!"

Eugene had learned the language of the Rakshas from Sasha. He could somewhat understand the words the bastards chattered.

The Rakshas here without ironware technology convulsed at the unique smell of iron. There's the fact that they hate the smell itself, but the fear that iron gives was also immense.

Eugene holding Blackout would truly look like a Grim Reaper descended upon the present world.

His subordinates also equally gave off a strong smell of iron. They wore jungle-specific uniforms with large scale iron pieces attached to armor made by processing gambesons, leather, rattan, etc.

Crunch.

A spear equipped with a stone arrowhead is an excellent weapon for Rakshas, but it broke simply in front of the Dwarves' shields.

Slash.

"Kyahaaak-!"

Every time the swords of the tribal knights drew arcs, Rakshas fell. A rare elite warrior among them was no exception either.

Veteran warriors mostly half-naked while wearing python skin clothes or jaguar skin clothes.

The knights' steel swords that cut off even their limbs in a single blow were nightmare-like existences.

"Snake venom swallows us!"

"■■s sent by the viper's ■■■!"

The Hydra leather armor bestowed the aura of a large monster. When the knights charged, the Rakshas shed blood, spat out terror, and fell in droves.

"Lord. These guys are fighting somewhat uniquely? They are different from the ones we met in Samur."

The subordinates fighting on the front lines have puzzled expressions. Clearly, the Rakshas were fighting diligently, but their efficiency was low. It wasn't a weapon skill persistently stabbing and cutting vitals.

"Because originally, it's not an attack meant to kill."

"Pardon?"

"The warriors of our world receive silver coins if they kill enemies. But would these guys have such currency?"

Fighting to eat and live is the same, but for Rakshas, it is literally to obtain meat.

However, in this climate, if you kill it right away, it will start to rot before even a day passes. A fighting method focused on capturing rather than killing had developed.

In the first place, the weapons themselves here weren't suitable for maximizing killing either.

On the other hand, Eugene's army is a product of thoroughly researching solely killing for over a thousand years.

"■■■■!"

Limbs severed and tumbling all over and blood pouring out profusely. At that sight of agonizing cries, the Rakshas lost their will to fight and began fleeing.

"Do not be careless. The Rakshas also have numerous tribes. The guys we faced just now are merely at the level of underlings of the ruling tribe occupying Acran."

It was exactly as Eugene's warning.

The Rakshas they encountered in the next village actively launched throwing spear attacks.

"Turtle formation!"

The Dwarves, who had carved significantly sturdier shield formations through the battles in Britannia, took the attacks from the front.

Since there is no bamboo in the jungle, to make a throwing spear, they must whittle and process it one by one.

"Have you already thrown them all? Huh? You sons of bitches?!"

The Rakshas in Samur projected vicious firepower as they carried 3 or more bamboo spears per person. However, here, having 1 throwing spear per 2 people was having a lot.

"Shoot!"

The Special Ops female warriors who climbed trees stepping on the Dwarves' shields, pauldrons, helmets, etc., poured out shots.

Puhwaaak!

In the meantime, Eugene approached and swung his giant axe blade, and the Rakshas fell like autumn leaves blowing in the wind.

"Hiyaak-!"

There were even those whose legs gave way and they sat down simply from the wind pressure when the axe blade hadn't even reached them yet.

"Search the houses!"

"There will be food the Raksha bastards piled up."

"Commander! There is a very strong smell of smoking coming from this... Ah!"

"God damn it."

The dwarven warriors stopped in front of a thatched house exuding a thick, savory smell. A massive amount of bones roll around in the yard.

Between turtle shells or catfish bones, skulls and ribs of Cat-folk are piled up in heaps. Among them, small skulls the size of a fist are also seen.

It seems the natives who lived in this base couldn't evacuate in time.

"You officers understand well what kind of enemies you are fighting, right? Mercy is unnecessary. Do not loosen the strength in the arm swinging your weapons."

At Eugene's words, the warriors took military salutes in unison.

"But don't look at our Sasha with those eyes."

"O-Of course."

Sasha trembled profusely at the sight of the subordinates turning their gazes away with sheepish smiles. If Homi hadn't hugged and patted her, she would have burst into tears.

The evolved Rakshas are now under Eugene's responsibility. While directing the battle, Eugene also agonized over how to take care of them in the future.

'I should call them by a different name from Raksha for now.'

He would have to start by giving them a new name that distinguishes them from existing Rakshas, just like Neanderthals and Homo sapiens.

* * *

On the marching route heading to Acran, it wasn't only battles and hunting. An unexpected encounter was also waiting.

"It seems they haven't discovered us yet."

Eugene and Cassandra secretly watched a group of Rakshas fighting over the hill while lying prone.

"■■■!"

"Kill it!"

Fiercely shouting Rakshas are surrounding and attacking a pangolin larger than a wild boar.

They swung stone axes and kicked it, but crouching and protecting its body with its uniquely thick hide, it didn't collapse easily.

"Why is it only taking a beating without running away? Its temper doesn't look that docile."

The giant pangolin, unlike the original, has a large and rugged face. Additionally, thick yet agile leg muscles stand out.

Despite the armor worn over it, it didn't look dull at all. If it rams adding speed to that weight class, it looks like it could easily break through the Rakshas' encirclement.

"It's keeping a baby in its embrace. So it seems it can't run away."

Cassandra whispered to Eugene.

The giant pangolin had to be rooted to the spot to protect the baby in its embrace. It simply resisted by flicking dirt and stones with shovel-like palms.

"It uses its hands exceedingly well, huh?"

"Indeed. It's my first time seeing a beast utilize its hands like that other than striking or scratching."

Eugene and Cassandra catching the attack timing while watching with interest.

On the other hand, there were those who looked solely at the giant pangolin with touched eyes, dismissing their interest in Rakshas.

"It's the messenger of the earth."

"It really existed. For real..."

"I thought it was the bluffs of the old folks."

It's none other than the Dwarves.

Low center of gravity.

Short legs.

Sturdiness.

Beautiful hands digging into the ground deeply.

Unlike Cassandra who considered it an undignified creature, Rampage stared at the giant pangolin as if possessed.