Chapter 49: Orc Zombie

“Hey, Cal-boy!”

A voice suddenly brought him out of the thoughts he was drowning in.

There was only one individual in the world that would address him as if he was a child.

As he turned around, he saw a mage standing there.

An Elf donning a long green robe, her blonde hair fluttering in the wind.

“Lady Sonia…”

“The zombies were probably holing up under the dirt and surfaced after you passed by! Looks like the Lich has some brains left in him huh? They’re pretty organized!”

Knowing that Thunder Sonia was here, Calendula sighed with relief.

The Elf Hero.

Standing sternly at her side was Aconite, her nephew and bodyguard.

He had always been known as a man of few words, but he seemed even more sever than usual. He probably recognized how dire the situation was.

His furrowed brows and tightened lips revealed his unease.

He was a civilian officer, and had very little experience on the battlefield, so he had most likely never faced similar circumstances.

“I know ma’am, but I need to figure out a way to get out of this…”

“Don’t think too hard about this. You’ll play right into the enemy’s hands!”

“But ma’am, this… this is just like how my father died! If I don’t make the right decision, we’ll all die!”

“You dull child! Who do you think I am? Why do you think I’m here!?”

Thunder Sonia put her hands on her hips and puffed out her (nonexistent) chest.

Hearing her admonishment, Calendula calmed down and remembered.

Yes, this woman was Thunder Sonia.

The Elven Archmage Thunder Sonia.

A one-in-a-million sorceress who had mastered thousands of spells, and the one who led the Elves to victory in the war.

The Elf Hero.

The most powerful of wizards.

“I’ll break though them, and I’ll take care of the Lich too! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

“…”

“Think of your family! Think of your adorable wife! We have peace now. Do you really want to die here? You absolutely need to live and go home! And you have to make sure everyone else here stay safe too! Alright?”

Calendula was nearly brought to tears at her words.

Yes, that’s right.

Sonia had always been like this.

Ever since he was kid.

She had always thought of the whole of the Elven population as one big family.

She remembered every single one of their names.

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And when the need arose, she would always take the initiative to stand tall and protect everyone.

That’s why she was a Hero.

That’s why she was respected by all, men and women alike.

“Oi, did you get that? Answer me!”

“Hoo-ah! Yes ma’am! I, Lieutenant General Calendula, swear that I’ll live and protect my men!”

“That’s my boy! Alright, let’s go!”

The question of which way he should lead his men still remained, but that didn’t matter now.

Whatever choice he made, so long as the Elf Hero was here, they would be victorious.

He steeled himself and made a decision.

He needed to get home.

“Mages, relay my orders! All troops are to charge through the zombies at our rear!”

“Hoo-ah!”

As soon as he gave out his orders, the army began running.

Calendula no longer doubted himself.

If the Lich was in fact in the direction they were going, they would defeat him. If not, they would break through the zombies, and return later with reinforcements to earn victory.

Many would die – that was a given.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would, at the very least, be held responsible and demoted.

At worst, he might be forced to resign.

Even so, this was what he needed to do to avoid a complete wipeout.

So long as a single Elf survived and brought back the information to the top brass, they would eventually win.

The Elves would win.

Losing to a bunch of zombies is unacceptable.

“CHARGE!!”

The Elves’ battle cry rang out as they threw themselves into battle.

It was only shortly after the withdrawal began that Calendula noticed how…peculiar the enemy forces were.

Yes, they were all undead – that was rather clear.

A nigh unending swarm of skeletons, zombies, and wraiths…

There were no high leveled undead like Vampires or Dullahan, but that wasn’t exactly surprising when the horde was being led by a Lich.

Sure, the Lich was a top-level undead itself, but it could only resurrect bottom-tier undead – such as zombies and skeletons.

But that wasn’t the point.

All the undead, whether they be zombies or skeletons, had a single thing in common – the race of the original corpse.

They were…

“They’re all… Orcs?”

Calendula muttered to himself as he stood as a vanguard to the retreat, hurling fireballs at the oncoming undying horde.

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Orc Zombies.

Orc Skeletons.

The undead army was made up nearly entirely of reanimated Orcish corpses.

The occasional Wraiths looked like disembodied Faeries, but there were also a couple of Orc phantoms here and there.

Then again, this was to be expected, to a certain extent.

This was Siwanasi Forest – the location of the final confrontation between the Orcs and the Elves.

It was only natural that there were a lot of Orc Zombies.

Still, Calendula couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was missing something important…

Siwanasi Forest…

An enemy that suddenly sprang up at their rear…

A force that was strangely well coordinated for a bunch of mindless undead…

As Calendula looked closer at one of the zombies who’s head he had just reduced to ashes, he noticed that it… no, that all of them were wearing similarly designed armor.

It was hard to tell, their equipment being so worn and torn, but they were definitely wearing matching sets.

Even their weapons seemed to have a sense of unity among them.

Yes, Calendula had seen these outfits before, three years ago.

There was no way he could forget it.

“Come on Cali’boy! I think we’re nearly through!”

Thunder Sonia, who was next to him, didn’t seem to notice anything wrong.

She was rapidly tearing through the enemy lines and steadily advancing, using her greatest and most powerful magics.

With every wave of her wand, a lightning bolt would erupt from its tip, turning zombies into charcoal, skeletons into dust, and wraiths into smoke.

As expected of the Elf Hero…

But Calendula couldn’t help but think that this Great Grandma was underestimating the enemy…

“Hey, Grandma, there’s something going on with…”

“What did you just call me? Don’t call me Grandma! Do you want me to tell your soldiers about the last time you shit your pants? Huh? How about that time you didn’t close your door and I walked in on you rubbing one out under your blanket? Who’s name were you calling out again? You want me to tell her? You want me to expose you?! Watch your mouth!”

“F…forgive me, Lady Sonia, but please be careful. I have a bad feeling about this…”

“Hmph. Even if there were 10 000 more of these dumb corpses, I’d still be able to fry them all. Right, Aconite?”

“Huff, huff, Lady Sonia, please slo…please slow down a bit…”

Her nephew, following behind her, was completely out of breath.

Were they not in a desperate struggle for survival, Calendula would have made fun of him for being so weak despite having survived the war.

But that would be hypocritical – Calendula himself was starting to tire out.

It was no wonder.

They were against a nigh endless horde of Orc zombies and skeletons.

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Sure, they might be dull, slow, reanimated corpses, but that didn’t mean they had lost they Orcish strength.

If there were only a couple of them, they could have used traditional Elven hit-and-run tactics. Unfortunately, they had already been surrounded, and there were way too many of them.

The Elves were forced to fight them head on in order to survive.

By the very nature of Orcish psychology, any battle the Orcs were involved in, whether they were winning or losing, would end up in them gradually dwindling in numbers as the fighting dragged on.

Especially when they faced the beautiful Elves, many Orcs would suddenly disappear from the battlefield.

It wasn’t because they were cowardly and ran away.

Nor was it because they were injured and had to recover.

Neither was it because they were slain, though that might account for a few of them.

No, it was because the Orcs would get distracted by the vulnerable women they had defeated, and would leave the front to “enjoy” their spoils, even as the battle raged on.

And so, one of the most common tactics used against Orcs was to drag them into long, timely battles of attrition.

Some Elven women would have to be “sacrificed” to the altar of Orcish lust, as the Elven warriors could not leave the field to save them, but it was better that they be violated once and then recovered once the battle was won, than be held as breeding slaves in perpetuity if the battle was lost.

However, this did not apply to the undead.

Calendula was fighting Orcs in name only – the traditional anti-Orc tactics would not work here.

On the contrary, the defeated undead Orcs would instead rise again after a while and rejoin the battle lines.

All because of that Lich.

Thus, Calendula was more tired than ever.

The Orcs had not lost the war because they were weak.

No, they were strong and resilient.

So determined was their will that even when their strongest men left to partake in their female spoils, the remaining Orcs would still fight until their last breath.

Were it not for this fatal flaw of Orc psychology, the Alliance might have lost the war.

As Orc zombies, they strength had diminished, which was why the Elves could still face them on equal footing.

But they were utterly outnumbered, and the zombies would keep rising incessantly if the Lich was not killed.

If the Elves took too long to break through…

“Ohoh! Cal-boy! Looks like your bad feeling was right! We’ve got a big shot over here!”

Suddenly, Thunder Sonia shouted happily.

Calendula looked in her direction, and noticed she was pointing to a specific individual in the crowd of Orc zombies.

There was a distinctly unique undead figure there.

A hunchbacked zombie wearing a tattered black cloak, leaning on a twisted cane of dead wood.

Its eyes glowed a deep red, and green mucus was dripping down from its mouth.

It gargles incomprehensibly as it limped around, using its cane to support its weight.

Was the sound of the wind whistling through a hole in its decrepit throat, or was it throwing out curse magics? Nobody knew.

It’s warped face, weathered by rot and time, had become nearly unrecognizable.

But to Calendula, it was unmistakably familiar…

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