Chapter Seven

Camille rarely raised his voice to such an extent. His typically impassive expression mirrored his cool-headed personality. Thus, when a thunderous curse echoed through the castle walls from his otherwise soft-spoken lips, it meant something equally heinous or infuriating had perturbed him.

I was a fool for believing him even for a minute. Camille felt the pangs of regret deep in his bones. He had held onto hope that the lout had finally come to his senses…

There was no plan from the beginning. Only lies to evade my questions, one after another. I should’ve seen through his deception the moment he suggested borrowing money from Solun. I ought to have taken him down sooner.

Furious and consumed by guilt, Camille beat his chest as he lamented not severing Otto’s head when he had the chance. Then he mustered everything he had to quell his rage. On a positive note, there was a silver lining to this disaster. There was no longer a need for them to repay Solun’s loan.

Why concern oneself with such a trivial debt when Eiota is bound to become a wasteland anyway?

“Soldiers of Eiota. We will now look for our lord— No, wait…” A bitter smile twisted Camille’s lips. “Forget that worm,” he growled. “Even if he were here, he’d be as useless as a bag of rocks.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“That’s right!”

“To hell with that mongrel!”

“I hope you choke to death on your greasy food, you son of a b*tch!”

The soldiers continued cursing Otto. Because Camille had never crossed the line before, his calling of Otto a “worm” had unofficially given everyone else the go-ahead to openly express their disdain.

Father. Camille looked up into the murky sky as thoughts of the late lord crossed his mind.

He has abandoned us and deserted the lands that your family has owned for generations. But I will stay till the bitter end. I will protect Eiota in your stead, Father. I am prepared to lay down my life… for the sake of our people, whom you loved so much.

Having steeled his resolve, Camille busied himself with finalizing preparations for the battle against the undead horde. The news of Otto’s desertion spread like wildfire.

One soldier shouted, “That scoundrel! I knew he would ditch us!”

“He abandoned his people just to save his own neck? May the devil take that cursed scoundrel!”

The knights and soldiers of Eiota hurled curses and fists into the air. Their fury only lasted for a moment, though.

“What’s the point of expecting any greatness from that bastard? Forget him. He can screw off and fatten his belly in some tavern for all I care.”

“You can count on him for one thing at least—for being a son of a b*tch.”

They quickly lost their interest in Otto. In retrospect, it would have been more surprising if their spineless lord hadn’t abandoned them and stood his ground.

* * *

At the same time, somewhere on the outskirts of Eiota.

“Jeez. It’s so itchy. Ugh…”

Otto grimaced in pain as he dug into his ear. The itch was so severe that he wanted to grab a cotton swab and relieve it. Unfortunately, because his helmet was in the way, he wouldn’t be receiving such relief anytime soon.

“This reminds me of the old Korean saying that when your ears itch, people are talking crap about you behind your back. Take it easy on me, you assholes. I didn’t abandon you.”

Otto was well aware that his subjects, including Camille and the rest of Eiota’s citizens, would curse his name endlessly. However, the truth was that he hadn’t abandoned his people. He indeed had a plan, and he was just taking the necessary steps to turn it into a reality.

I think the path was somewhere around here… Otto rode his steed toward the northern mountain passes—the very direction from which the undead army was advancing. As his horse galloped, Otto groaned.

Man, my groin is killing me! How do people ride these things for so long? It was Otto’s first time riding a horse. Thankfully, the horse was well-tamed and disciplined, and it served as a good companion for this long trip.

After approximately three hours of riding northward, his horse abruptly halted. Spooked by something, the horse reared up, emitting a piercing whinny as its body tensed with fear.

“Huh? W-wait a second!”

Unable to control the horse’s erratic movements, Otto lost his grip on the reins and fell from the saddle. Without his armor, he would have been sure to receive a critical injury.

The horse, having thrown Otto off, whipped around and bolted across the grassy field, retracing its path and abandoning its master.

“T-that stupid beast! I’m your master! Come back here, traitor!” In his indignation, Otto shouted at his horse. “My back is killing me… Oh, this sucks so much.”

As soon as Otto finished speaking, a sudden chill enveloped him, catching him off guard. It was as if the temperature had plummeted in the blink of an eye. While it was expectedly cold to traverse the treacherous mountain path in the darkness of the night, the sudden chill was unquestionably peculiar.

Soon, flickering lights resembling tongues of fire began to materialize one by one. However, these lights were not from torches—they were eyes. They were ghostly glows emanating from the skeleton’s eye sockets.

From the darkness, there came a dull thudding of hooves. In a moment, a magnificent spectral steed appeared before Otto.

“Who might you be?”

The figure sitting astride on the steed seemed to be addressing Otto. The man’s name was Nazrac, one of the hundred lords of the game Territory Wars.

* * *

Nazrac was a powerful death knight and necromancer. Once a mighty spellsword, Nazrac’s use of black magic in his later years led him down a path of corruption. He eventually chose to become an undead and attempted to create a faction called the Immortal Kingdom, only to see it crushed in its infancy by neighboring realms. He was sealed shortly after its fall, but after five centuries of slumber, he awoke to conquer lands and reestablish his realm.

That was the official lore behind the character Nazrac, according to Territory Wars. Playing as Otto de Scuderia, the player inevitably encountered Nazrac and his undead army on the second week of the playthrough.

99.99999% of players failed this encounter and perished. With Otto’s unfairly horrid stats and Eiota’s pitiable forces, players stood no chance against the undead horde. However, this time, the threads of his tale would weave a different narrative.

There’s no way I’ll win head-on against his undead army. After countless failed attempts, Dojin discovered the strategy to overcome this otherwise fatal encounter. He had borrowed something from the Art of War—understanding one’s enemy and oneself was the key to victory in a hundred battles. Delving deep into Nazrac’s character, Dojin studied his background, strengths, and weaknesses.

The strategy is quite simple. I simply must not chicken out. Otto took a deep breath before prostrating himself before Nazrac.

“Greetings, O Master of Death. I am Otto de Scuderia from Eiota.”

“Master of Death... Yes... There was a time when I was called as such. So, you must know me, Otto of Eiota.”

Oh, you got that right, you undead bastard. I bet I know you better than you know yourself! Otto had once cleared Territory Wars using Nazrac, so his understanding of the undead lord was quite substantial, to say the least.

“I do. I know that you suffered defeat at the hands of your enemies over five centuries ago and were robbed of your chance to realize your dream.”

The undead lord’s eyes seemed to bore through Otto. “Five hundred years is no short by any means. How are you able to remember me, Otto of Eiota?”

“There’s a prophecy passed down through generations in my family.”

Nazrac’s ghostly eyes flickered with interest. “A prophecy?”

“It speaks about the awakening of the Master of Death—and that proper reception of the great one must be ready in place.”

“Was there a prophet in your family who foretold my resurrection?”

“Yes, Master.”

Nazrac hummed, drumming his pallid fingers on his skeletal face.

Otto continued. “If you were to accept me, I would wholeheartedly assist your great cause.”

“And how do you propose to assist me, living one? Your abilities are mediocre at best, and your potential is hopeless.”

“I am aware of that, Master.”

“Yet, you claim you can be of use to me?”

“That’s right.”

“Explain yourself, Otto.”

“Through diplomacy and strategy, of course,” Otto replied, uttering the keywords that could sway Nazrac’s judgment.

* * *

Nazrac was widely regarded as one of the most powerful rulers in Territory Wars. However, he had one fatal weakness, and that was his lack of diplomacy and strategic thinking. He didn’t have the discerning eye to see the big picture, and by default, he was at odds with just about every living faction on the map.

Being a high-level death knight and necromancer and leading an army of undead monsters, it came as no surprise that Nazrac’s faction garnered the enmity of others. For living entities, harboring mistrust and hostility against undead lifeforms was almost a given.

Therefore, whenever Nazrac embarked on serious conquests, he frequently found himself at a disadvantage against a coalition of living factions. He was surrounded by enemies on all sides. This meant that, although he commanded a powerful army, he remained in a perpetual state of being hunted. Hence, for Nazrac, it was crucial to avoid being besieged by neighboring states and to establish as many alliances as possible early on.

“Strategy and diplomacy, you say…” Nazrac muttered, intrigued by Otto’s response. “Such were the final nails in my coffin five centuries ago. I failed to construct my Immortal Kingdom because I lacked those skills. Yes… I still remember it as if it were yesterday.”

“O Master of Death,” Otto flatteringly called Nazrac’s name again. “For so long, I have immersed myself in texts on strategy and diplomacy as I wait for your return. Please allow my meager abilities to be of assistance to you.”

Nazrac’s eyes seemed to scrutinize Otto. “If I accept you, can you demonstrate your abilities to me?”

“Of course, Master.”

“Very well.” Nazrac smiled, appearing satisfied. Then he declared ominously, “Then I shall elevate you to a high-level undead.”

“Not yet, Master. Not just yet.”

“And why should it not be so?” Underneath the icy rasp of Nazrac’s voice was a simmering rage. “You professed your desire to become my servant, Otto of Eiota. So why do you deny this gift?”

“My master, why wouldn’t I want the honor of becoming an undead, an immortal being liberated from the curse of flesh? However, if I am to fulfill your duties as your emissary, my undead status would likely evoke revulsion from the human lords.”

“Oh!” Nazrac exclaimed.

“So, would it not be wise to postpone your gift to me for now?”

“Your words carry good wisdom, Otto of Eiota.”

It was only natural that Otto’s words sounded promising to Nazrac, given his past struggles with diplomacy due to his dismal skills in that area.

“Very well,” the undead lord declared with a guttural tone. “I shall allow you to enter my service as the only living man among my followers. Once my great endeavor is finished, I will elevate you to the highest rank of undead.”

“Your generosity is boundless, Master!” Otto prostrated himself once more before Nazrac.

[Notification: You have gained Nazrac’s trust!]

[Notification: Nazrac likes you!]

[Notification: Nazrac’s feeling toward you has reached Excited.]

[Notification: Nazrac heeds your counsel!]

With that, Otto successfully won over the heart of the undead lord, Nazrac, and became his servant.

A pat on the back for you, Otto. A faint smile graced Otto’s face.

* * *

Back to the castle.

“Sir Camille!” A knight hurried to Camille to deliver his report. “A ranger scouting the northern mountain has an urgent message for you!”

“What is it?”

“Our former lord— No… I mean, Otto— that bastard has become a guide for the undead army!”

Camille shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Explain yourself in detail.”

“The ranger on patrol spotted that cursed scoundrel leading the undead army from the front.”

“Otto… You bastard.” Camille clenched his eyes shut upon hearing the knight’s words.

“That son of a b*tch!”

“Hah! Why am I not surprised?”

“Being a part of the undead suits that inhuman scum! Abandoning his lands was apparently not enough. Look how he’s stooped so low to become a thrall to the evil horde of undead!”

Everyone’s temper flared up in concert with one another. While his abandonment was somewhat in line with Otto’s character, they never thought he’d join the undead army, let alone guide them through his own lands. Now, it had become more difficult to fathom the depths of Otto’s treachery...

Following a brief moment of reflection, the people’s incredulity dissipated.

“Then again…”

“If it’s that scoundrel, then it’s probably true.”

Everyone was quick to come to terms with Otto’s betrayal and his new status as the undead army’s servant. Given his disreputable behavior before the crisis, there was nothing he could do that would surprise them too much.

“Oh, and…” The knight brought to light another piece of information. “The undead army has suddenly changed direction and is now marching toward Solun.”

Instantly, a fleeting memory raced through Camille’s mind.

“Here’s my plan, Camille. I will bring about their downfall. In exactly two weeks.”

The knight’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

It couldn’t be… Could it?