Isaac diligently sent out scouts and repaired the walls before the Olkan Code returned.

He also frequently flew on Nel to observe how far the Olkan Code had advanced from a distance. He considered raining lightning on the marching army a few times but abandoned the idea after seeing them shoot cannons with dangerous precision from about 400 meters below.

If he got hit and isolated, the consequences would be disastrous.

Seeing the approaching army, Isaac was certain.

‘It’s a Great Raid.’

The number of troops in the vanguard alone was several thousand.

Such a force was followed by more units. Considering there were similar groups in the south, he estimated an army of around 100,000.

Even during the civil war in the Kingdom of Elil, he had not faced such numbers, and it felt unreal that ten times that number was marching for war.

Any ordinary country would collapse if they did such a thing. Just like the current Empire.

These bastards would collapse too, but they didn’t care about that.

Isaac recalled what the Great Raid was about in the Olkan Code scenario.

Ironically, the goal of the Olkan Code was ‘knowledge.’ Knowledge about the gods and the secrets of Urbansus. And the place with the most knowledge on the continent was…

‘The secret archives of the Lichtheim Censorship Bureau.’

The most clandestine location even in the Holy City where the Pope resided.

Playing as the Olkan Code, the player would split the Empire in half and extract knowledge from its corpse. It was a ridiculous outcome for the Codex of Light, which sought to reclaim the Holy Land, but Isaac had experienced in the game that ‘such a future was possible.’

‘And leading this Great Raid are Sahulan Khan and the Archangel Manseungja.’

Sahulan Khan would be leading this horde from somewhere.

And Archangel Manseungja… Even Isaac, who had experienced the game, couldn’t guess its form or thoughts. It could be right next to Isaac or munching moss on a rocky hill somewhere.

To stop the Great Raid, he needed to either kill or persuade one of these two.

***

Huff.

Nel folded its giant wings and landed on the wall, cutting through the night sky.

The torches on the wall flared fiercely. The soldiers, who couldn’t even approach the dragon initially, now seemed fairly accustomed to the translucent dragon. They couldn’t help but appreciate the creature that flew across the sky several times a day to scout distant areas on their behalf.

Isaac walked along the wall, which had been clumsily repaired, and spoke.

“The wall repair was finished faster than expected.”

“Seor is quite rich in materials and supplies.”

Jacquette boasted. As someone who had once been a bandit in this area, she seemed to enjoy the opportunity to ‘legally’ requisition Seor’s resources.

As a former outlaw, she also found and confiscated hidden assets of gangs and illicit hoards, sending them all to the Issacrea territory. It was Isaac’s order. The hidden gold coins would find more value in the noble journey of the Holy Grail Knight than being plundered by orcs…

“But is this wall repair meaningful? Those cannons really wrecked the walls.”

“The fact that they will waste effort trying to break it is meaningful. They’ll see the repaired walls and mistakenly think we’re clinging to them.”

Even if the cannons were over-technologized, their use was limited.

For example, firing at hills or moats surrounded by rivers wouldn’t mean much. The cannons would target the plains and gates. Isaac planned to make them waste gunpowder on the walls and give them a grand welcome when they finally stormed in.

“Have you prepared the items I requested?”

“Yes. There were plenty in stock.”

Isaac nodded. The fact that the battlefield was Seor was both unfortunate and fortunate. It wasn’t a good city for defense, but being a trade hub made it easy to procure hard-to-get supplies. And the items Isaac requested were the worst kind of surplus inventory.

‘What we really need is reinforcements…’

Isaac looked west with a grim expression. Despite scouting intermittently, he saw no sign of additional reinforcements coming. Whether from the Imperial army or the Codex, it was truly disappointing.

“They seem to be getting ready over there too.”

Jacquette said, looking at the countless fires lined up in the dark plains. The Olkan Code wasn’t rushing. They leisurely spread out their camp and positioned their cannons, as if Seor’s preparations didn’t matter.

They didn’t even set up a proper siege formation necessary for a traditional siege.

‘It means they don’t care if we escape or reinforcements arrive, believing they can take us down whenever they want.’

Rottenhammer looked eager to charge out but didn’t disobey Isaac’s orders.

“When will they start?”

“Could be any time from tonight. Cannons don’t need eyes.”

It depended on how impatient the orcs were.

And Isaac regretted his answer.

The orcs’ attack began that very night, without warning, with a barrage of cannon fire.

***

Boom, boom, boom…

The faint sound of cannon fire was followed by a series of earth-shaking explosions. The bombardment on Seor continued through the night, daybreak, and dusk, unceasing.

“Damn it, these bastards!”

Jacquette, unable to sleep because of the cannon fire, ran up the wall with bloodshot eyes and shouted. Of course, her only response was more cannon fire. The thin walls couldn’t protect her from the bombardment, so she had to be dragged down by other soldiers.

Jacquette’s condition mirrored that of most ordinary people in Seor.

The paladins, with their strong mental fortitude, were ready for battle despite the lack of sleep and constant noise, but some soldiers were starting to have panic attacks with each cannon blast.

At that point, Isaac had to question his judgment.

‘…Are they planning to obliterate Seor?’

Isaac thought they would attempt pinpoint strikes and then occupy Seor, just as the previous reconnaissance team had.

However, the cannonballs they were currently firing were turning Seor’s walls into something resembling a sandcastle.

Cannons are expendable. Firing this many would have caused several cannons to burst or bend, and they would have wasted an enormous amount of gunpowder. Seor might be a large city, but such an approach was inefficient.

‘Speaking of inefficiency, I shouldn’t be thinking like this. There’s no race more inefficient than the Olkan Code.’

Perhaps they were simply bombarding the largest city they saw without considering the consequences. And it seemed Gebel had a similar thought.

“I understand your strategy, Isaac,” Gebel said with a worried expression. “But I’m starting to worry that your strategy relies on the enemy being rational and reasonable. If you try to lecture them about wasting gunpowder and how they will fight later, they won’t understand. They might regret it later, but what does that matter if we’re already buried in this rubble?”

“…It’s not the best, but I have a backup plan, so don’t worry,” Isaac replied with a bitter smile.

Isaac did not have the luxury of assuming the battlefield would unfold as he hoped. For now, he had no choice but to wait.

When the enemy has overwhelming power, the options available are limited.

Isaac headed underground, to his sanctuary beneath Seor, where he had devoured and occupied Golruwa. As he placed his hand on the still-beating heart there, he felt Seor’s nerves extending throughout the city as if it were his own body.

Through this sense, Isaac had gathered detailed information on the positions, unit deployments, and supply routes of the Olkan Code over the past few days. But knowing this did not mean he could attack immediately.

He could only prepare not to miss the right moment.

‘It’s about time to start.’

As he groped through Seor’s territory, he touched an unripe ear of wheat. The wheat, swaying gently in the wind, watched the impending war without concern.

Then suddenly, the wheat bent towards Isaac as if bowing.

Isaac opened his eyes.

He immediately grabbed his sword and rushed outside.

The time had come.

***

Koral Manho, commander of the Olkan Code’s glorious vanguard, looked at the shattered Seor with satisfaction. A massive amount of smoke and dust rose from the debris of the broken walls.

Like most orc nomads, Kor’al had an obsession with flatness.

To them, a castle protruding from the flat plains was bizarre and unpleasant. Now that the walls were almost level, Kor’al felt a sense of exhilaration.

Everything should be as flat as the world they lived in.

They had used more than half of the cannons and gunpowder supplied for the entire Great Raid just to flatten these walls, but it didn’t matter. In fact, he would love to use it all up right here and now so they could ravage the Empire with lighter bodies.

At that moment, a young shaman approached him.

“Manho Koral, Shaman Kirmas warns of an enemy counterattack.”

“Hmm? Now?”

Koral asked with a puzzled expression.

This wasn’t their first siege. They had already destroyed numerous principalities and kingdoms outside the Gerthonia Empire. Usually, by the time a city was this ruined, those inside were either physically or mentally broken.

If they had any strength left for a counterattack, they would have done it already.

However, as a commander who respected superstitions, Kor’al did not dismiss the warning. He, too, had heard rumors.

“Now that you mention it, Shaman Kirmas did say he heard from the dead scouts. Centurion Katawal was killed by a dragon and a monstrous paladin.”

He had seen the dragon in the sky several times. Though it was powerless against their cannons, without those cannons, they would be vulnerable. Kor’al suddenly felt uneasy and looked up at the sky.

As he belatedly considered conserving their gunpowder, he noticed something strange.

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“The wind direction has changed.”

Koral squinted and stared at Seor.

“Looks like there’s more smoke rising than before. Is there a fire?”

The smoke rising from the leveled Seor was thicker and denser than before, drifting towards them and gradually obscuring their view.

Though it wasn’t enough to be a problem, given their indiscriminate night bombardment, the acrid smoke made him frown.

Then, he suddenly realized he recognized the smell.

‘…Herbs?’

Thud, thud, thud…

At that moment, a faint rumbling echoed. Koral, familiar with the sound of hooves, immediately recognized it as the sound of cavalry. Blending into the smoke rising from Seor, a group of knights was charging.

Seeing their armor glinting in the dawn light, Koral remembered nightmares from a past life. He roared with a mix of anger and excitement.

“The Holy Grail Knights of the Codex of Light are coming! Turn them into cannon fodder!”

Koral wanted to laugh.

He had seen heavily armored knights reduced to pulp by cannonballs many times. Especially these cannonballs, blessed by the Olkan Code’s miracle, ‘Ancestors Serving the Descendants,’ which provided orcish accuracy and cannon durability. The orc ancestors’ blessings were the reason behind their remarkable accuracy and the resilience of their cannons.

Koral envisioned the paladins turning into bloody dust and burst into laughter.

“No matter how skilled the paladins are, they can’t dodge this! Fire!”

Boom! At that moment, the cannon next to Koral exploded with a deafening roar. The special gunpowder loaded for the paladins caused the cannon to tear apart all the orcs nearby. Even Koral wasn’t spared.

In a haze of tinnitus, he barely stood up. His right leg and arm were gone. Surveying his surroundings, he saw cannons that had been overused exploding or shattered. Those that had fired landed in absurdly far-off places.

Meanwhile, the Brient Paladin Order rapidly closed the distance. The horses of the paladins had bags attached to them, continuously emitting smoke. Koral recognized the familiar floral scent from those bags.

Loracus.

Loracus’s effect was to lower resistance to magic, or in this case, miracles.

And now, the over-applied miracles of the Olkan Code were causing their cannons to explode.