(Well, well. That actually went a whole lot smoother than I expected.)
Musing inwardly, I gently guided the few stray ostrich chicks who had drifted away from the primary flock led by Dele back into the safety of the perimeter.
Hey, you guys! Why are you trying to run off over there? The flock is that way! What? Food? We just ate a little while ago... Wait, are you looking at that beastman? Let's see, that guy? Ah, he's a cow-beastman. Granted, he does look pretty appetizing... Hey! I've told you a hundred times, people are friends, NOT food! Get back in line, march, march!
Come to think of it, even though this nation actively manages livestock like cows, pigs, and chickens, they also have citizens who are actual cow, pig, and chicken beastmen... I mean, I knew there were dog and cat beastmen, so I guess it makes sense, but... wouldn't it be incredibly awkward to casually munch on a regular steak right in front of someone whose entire identity is literally a cow? Or has that just become a basic fact of life here, to the point where nobody even questions the chaos? It's kind of wild if you think about it.
(Then again, I suppose we, the legendary Ostrich Fleet, aren't exactly in a position to judge. Ahaha!)
Currently, acting upon an official distress signal from the Beast Kingdom, we were executing a total sweep of the local undead legions. Though, strictly speaking, the ostriches' main workload was already completely finished.
Our designated objective was simple: maximize battlefield chaos and cleanly thin out the enemy vanguard. By sprinting continuously across the theater, we trampled any undead foolish enough to stand in our path, fracturing their command structure and preventing any coordinated mobilization. Meanwhile, I routinely took to the skies or surveyed the topography from a high vantage point, keeping a flawless tally on the operational flow and deploying reinforcing chicks to any sector experiencing structural strain. In short, we were allowed to run wild and cause absolute havoc, while the allied conventional forces set up the clean-up perimeters.
(It's exactly like that classic Hammer and Anvil strategy. The heavy infantry from Heed, Nagan, and the Beast Kingdom acted as the absolute iron anvil, holding the undead legions perfectly in place. Then, the ostrich children acted as the massive kinetic hammer, executing high-speed cavalry charges to shatter them into splinters.)
The fact that I had taken the initiative to target and vaporize the enemy's Quasi-Special Strategic commander right at the opening exchange was undeniably the primary catalyst for this flawless victory. An army that loses its unified command is nothing more than a giant pile of moving meat. Sweeping away a disorganized rabble is a task anyone could accomplish. Having thoroughly broken their spine, the operation had officially transitioned into the mopping-up phase. The remaining threats consisted entirely of scattered stragglers or microscopic clusters—a tier perfectly manageable by the conventional frontline infantry. We could safely leave the rest to them.
"Though, honestly, if we stay out there when there's an absolute shortage of targets, our children might accidentally start misidentifying allies as hostiles..."
When launching a high-speed charge, my children operate on a remarkably simple binary system: if it isn't an ostrich and it enters their immediate line of sight, it is fundamentally an enemy. They run to fight, and any obstacle occupying their immediate trajectory gets violently kicked into the stratosphere or flattened into paste. Unless I explicitly project a counter-mandate, "ignoring" an entity is a conceptual impossibility for them. After all, from their perspective, that random bystander might try to bite them, or worse—it might taste absolutely delicious. That is the absolute reality of the ostrich mind.
Therefore, while the field was saturated with undead, they could deploy their violence with absolute peace of mind. But now that the engagement had dissolved into minor skirmishes, the statistical probability of accidental friendly fire was far too high. Because separating into microscopic units was structurally impossible for them, we had to move as a unified block of three hundred. If three hundred hyper-kinetic ostriches launched a full-scale assault against a pathetic cluster of twenty undead, we would win instantly, but a massive portion of the chicks would be left awkwardly milling about with nothing to trample, leading to distractions.
And when an ostrich gets distracted, well...
"So, we'll leave the closing ceremonies to the professionals and execute an early tactical withdrawal. Simple as that!"
"Mama!"
"We did it!"
"Bubbles! Need bubbles!"
"Yes, yes~. Every single one of you worked so incredibly hard."
The absolute second we pulled back from the active combat sector, Dele came barreling toward me at maximum velocity, practically plastering her entire body against my back. I had already showered her with a massive volume of headpats and praise, so it was officially time to cycle through the rest of the children. You all did such an amazing job listening to Dele's instructions, yes you did! So proud of you! I promise I'll take everyone down to the river for a thorough bath in just a little bit, so give Mama just a moment, okay?
"You certainly have your hands full, as always."
"Ah, Amelia-san. Outstanding work out there. Honestly, this much is a walk in the park. The real nightmare begins after this."
As I wrestled with a giant, squirming mountain of muddy, grime-covered chicks, Amelia the Elf approached me from behind, her tone laced with mild exhaustion. Personally, I wasn't feeling particularly fatigued. In fact, this engagement felt remarkably fresh because it was the first time I actually got to relax a little bit. Until today, I had always been forced to sprint at the absolute vanguard of the flock, pulling the children along through raw momentum. Running at the rear was an entirely novel experience. Granted, I had to project constant navigational fixes to keep them on track, but it was an incredibly rewarding exercise. I genuinely owe Dele a thank you for stepping up.
And of course, my gratitude extended to Amelia as well. Her seamless support from Dele's back was the only reason the hierarchy held together so beautifully.
"Think nothing of it. I've grown quite accustomed to riding atop Dele's back. ...Though, what do you mean by a 'nightmare'?"
"Hm? Oh, the bath situation. You see, undead aren't exactly known for their stellar hygiene, right? If I don't give these children an absolute top-tier, industrial-grade scrubbing right away, they will pout for days. Just look at this one's face—pure misery."
"Muuu—!"
To emphasize my point, I gently hoisted up a chick who was glaring down at its own feet with profound betrayal, deeply offended by a patch of unidentifiable gunk clinging to its talons. The moment I rubbed its neck, its expression melted into absolute, blissful mush ("howaaa~"), but the exact microsecond I stopped, the realization that it was covered in rotten flesh and smelled incredibly stinky washed over it, plunging its mood right back into the negatives. Rotten meat had wedged itself between their feathers and deep under their claws... Yeah, this was going to be an ordeal.
"And since they refuse to let absolutely anyone else wash them... I am officially staring down a massive wave of mandatory overtime."
"...I can at least assist with preparing the soap arrays."
"You're a lifesaver. ...Wait, hm?"
Just as I was mentally preparing myself for a grueling cleaning session that promised to be ten times more exhausting than the actual battle, a sudden wave of sound rippled across the horizon. Shifting my gaze back toward the primary battlefield, it appeared the allied coalition was raising a massive, unified victory roar. The total eradication of the vanguard was official.
"Looks like their side wrapped up their paperwork as well. Perfect! I'll just find someone to hand off our status report to, and then we're heading straight for the nearest river... Amelia-san?"
"...This is catastrophic."
I had deliberately held the children back from the water source while our allies were actively risking their lives, but now that the formal engagement had concluded, surely nobody would object to a quick spa day. Yet, just as I was about to signal the flock to form up for transit, Amelia's voice cut through the air, completely freezing my momentum. Turning to look at her, I found her features locked in an incredibly grim, pale expression. Uh, what? What happened?
"The negative karmic footprint... the residual malice of the deceased. It is beginning to mobilize."
"...Wait, what does that even mean?"
"The structural signature is nearly identical to a massive, spontaneous undead manifestation event. However, the acceleration velocity is completely unnatural... Someone has manually laid a catalyst array here."
"...Huh."
While the metaphysical mechanics were completely beyond my ostrich brain, it appeared something highly volatile was unfolding. Now that she pointed it out... if I focused my eyes toward the massive valleys of corpses, a faint, pitch-black haze seemed to be seeping upward into the atmosphere, swirling like a localized storm. We had completely failed to locate the "Thief" responsible for orchestrating this entire invasion, and I had assumed they had simply tuck-tailed and run... but it turns out they left a nasty parting gift.
"Ordinarily, tracking that specific flavor of miasma requires years of rigorous spiritual training within the Holy Church... For it to be vividly visible to your eyes means the sheer density is catastrophic."
"...Should I just vaporize the whole area with a Mana Cannon?"
"Absolutely not. Do not touch it."
According to her, if we had a dedicated team of high-tier clergymen capable of deploying divine purification arcana, the scenario would be entirely manageable. However, the raw, unrefined energy channeled by my Mana Cannon would accomplish nothing more than providing an astronomical volume of premium fuel for the anomaly to consume. Total non-intervention was my strict mandate. If I were to blast that swirling vortex with raw mana, the concentrated malice of thirty thousand slaughtered souls would fuse with my personal energy metrics, potentially manufacturing a conceptual disaster of apocalyptic proportions.
"Yet, conventional containment is... highly improbable. The sheer volume of manifestation nodes is too immense, and our active clerical personnel are far too few. Even if I were to initiate an emergency purification array right this second, I could suppress barely a few hundred nodes. Cleansing the residual malice of thirty thousand entities is mathematically impossible. Wraith... do you still possess surplus mana?"
"I mean, obviously."
The very concept of "running out of mana" simply did not exist within my biological vocabulary. Even at this exact millisecond, the internal energy metrics equivalent to five Demon Kings were inside my body, happily executing a perfectly synchronized, highly enthusiastic box dance. I was practically bursting with energy.
"Take me back to the center of the massacres. I will utilize every ounce of my remaining authority to deploy Consecration arrays and disrupt the core coagulation. However, preventing the physical birth of the composite entity entirely is beyond my capacity."
"Got it, got it. So the second the big bad officially takes a physical shape, I am clear to blow it straight into the afterlife, right? Bombarding the soup while it's cooking is bad, but once the dish is fully served on the table, I can smash the plate to pieces. Perfect. Honestly, the vanguard fight left me feeling a bit unsatisfied anyway."
After all, I had marched all the way to this kingdom fully prepared to wage absolute warfare against the legendary undead Beast King and the mysterious "Thief" who plundered his remains. I had spent the past few days analyzing my tactical missteps from our previous encounter, engineering specialized counters, and thanks to Amelia's expert coaching... my fine-tuned mana manipulation metrics had improved by at least a small fraction. This was the perfect live-fire exercise to test my personal growth.
For a Quasi-Special Strategic asset like Amelia to explicitly request my heavy ordnance meant the incoming entity was bound to be an absolute unit. Well, since I was apparently the only individual on this continent capable of balancing the equation, I'd gladly step up to the plate.
"ッ! The miasma is coalescing! Wraith!"
"Roger that! Dele! You heard the breakdown, right? I'm leaving you in charge of the base camp! Keep everyone secure!"
"Un! Leave it to me!"
Circulating my internal mana to project a reassuring, authoritative aura across the flock, I issued a firm command for every single chick to drop their hips and take a seated position. While managing three hundred hyper-active ostriches mid-transit was still far too complex for Dele's current developmental tier, enforcing a simple "sit and stay" protocol was well within her capabilities. Alright children, you heard Mama, right? I have to go take care of a quick work errand, so I need everyone to be absolute angels and stay precisely where you are. Let me hear your confirmation!
""""""Yaaay!""""""
Yup, excellent children!
...Alright, let's go do some remodeling!
◇◆◇◆◇
With Amelia securely anchored to my back, I vented a continuous stream of compressed mana from my rear plumage, utilizing the kinetic backfire as a makeshift jet-propulsion engine. It was an incredibly rough, turbulent ride, but the sheer velocity was unmatched. Hang on tight, Amelia!
"...The convergence velocity is escalating. Drop me directly atop the highest mound of corpses ahead."
"You got it!"
Just as she noted, the dark, turbulent mist seeping from the sea of flesh was violently twisting toward a single focal point, molding itself into a massive, cohesive mass. The acceleration curve was climbing rapidly; our operational window was closing by the second. The instant we crossed into the primary sector, I cut the Mana Cannon output, seamlessly shifting to my natural, high-speed biological sprint to shed our excess momentum as we approached the drop zone. From this exact millisecond onward, any manual activation of my mana was strictly prohibited until the entity achieved absolute physical stability. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally sponsor the birth of a cosmic horror. I'm already enough of a freak of nature as it is.
Oh, wait, is that Matilde? She was currently galloping toward our position at the head of a massive cavalry contingent.
Dropping Amelia perfectly at her designated coordinates, I immediately engaged a micro-sprint to vault myself into the upper airspace. Matilde's unit was currently hauling an immense payload of wooden crates packed with specialized bottles—almost certainly high-purity holy water.
"Matilde!"
"Lady Wraith! Acting upon direct instructions from the Tactician, my units are preparing to deploy a total holy water saturation sweep across the perimeter! Take this!"
With a powerful heave, she launched a massive wooden crate straight into the sky toward my position. Whoa, that's surprisingly heavy! I managed to catch it cleanly between my talons, but this thing easily clocked in at around twenty kilograms. Fantastic throw, Matilde. I was coasting at a pretty significant altitude, meaning her raw physical strength metrics are absolutely no joke.
"The Tactician calculated that total prevention of the undead manifestation was mathematically improbable! Consequently, my forces will focus entirely on saturating the outer boundaries to ensure the phenomenon does not spill into the civilian sectors! That crate contains a diluted holy water compound! Showering it from above should suppress the core expansion metrics!"
"Understood! Do not overextend your lines, the second things look volatile, execute an immediate fallback!"
"We are well aware! Men! Unleash the payload with everything you have!"
Spinning her steed, she barked out continuous directives to her personnel. Before I realized it, she had seamlessly integrated not only her native Heed soldiers but the remaining infantry of Nagan and the Beast Kingdom under her unified command; the entire regiment followed her lead, chucking holy water flasks into the dense fields of corpses like a highly disciplined machine. It honestly looked exactly like a giant, chaotic game of festival ball-toss. How amusing.
"Alright, time for me to contribute a bit of manual labor. Let's set the stage."
Hovering directly above the central vortex where the black miasma was achieving peak density, I released my grip on the wooden crate, allowing it to plummet directly into a massive mound of remains. The crate shattered upon impact, scattering a radiant, shimmering mist across the immediate vicinity. The surging momentum of the black fog visibly staggered, its density dropping by a fraction. She had labeled it "diluted," but if this was the effect of the cheap stuff, one could only imagine the absolute destruction a high-concentration batch would inflict... Wait, now that I think about it, what even is holy water? Beats me.
Shifting my focus away from theological conundrums, I disengaged my flight stabilization and dropped lightly back onto the soil. Taking a quick glance toward the distant horizon, Dele was doing a phenomenal job maintaining absolute discipline across the flock. With my worries cleared, I could focus entirely on preparing for the hunt... though with my mana locked down, there wasn't a single proactive action I could take. Standing firmly before the swirling vortex of darkness, I simply crossed my wings and waited for the enemy to finish loading.
"『Consecration Barrier (Sanctuary)』."
Just as I was contemplating whether it would be rude to wander back to Matilde's unit to fetch another crate to pass the time, a profound, incredibly warm radiance washed over my back. Turning around, Amelia had already completed an immense, glowing magical array, her staff raised proudly toward the heavens.
The black fog seeping from the surrounding corpses was instantly vaporized upon contact with her perimeter, cleanly severing one of the primary supply veins feeding the central vortex.
"Oh, wow, impressive. ...Wait, hm? Is she... executing hand signs? I don't exactly speak military jargon. Let's see... 'Operational window... closing... initiating... full... withdrawal.' Ah, got it."
Initially, she had attempted to convey her intent using standard one-handed tactical gestures, but realizing my ostrich brain was processing zero percent of the data, she transitioned into utilizing her entire body, executing massive, exaggerated charades to signal her retreat. Given her usual persona as a quiet, stoic, completely unflappable elf, watching her frantically point toward the rear while doing a mock running motion was honestly hilarious. I flared both of my wings wide, forming a massive circle to signal my absolute comprehension.
Having received my confirmation, she replicated the sequence for Matilde. Once she verified that the combined allied army had successfully initiated an orderly fallback, the elf spun on her heel and swiftly departed the active zone.
"Should be any second now."
The moment the perimeter was cleared, exactly as Amelia had predicted, the dark mist crawling across the soil experienced an exponential surge in kinetic velocity. Swirling violently toward a single spatial coordinate right before my eyes, the malice began to piece together a physical anatomy.
The collective weight of roughly thirty thousand souls. It undoubtedly included the lingering resentment of the legions I had previously vaporized alongside their physical vessels. Thanks to Matilde's holy water saturation and Amelia's high-tier barrier, a massive portion of the energy had been burned away, but the remaining volume easily exceeded twenty thousand units. The compressed malice of twenty thousand dead converged into a single point, shrinking down to the size of a microscopic marble, transforming into a dense, pitch-black sphere that seemed to distort the surrounding light.
And then, instantaneously—it exploded outward.
"...Whoa."
The microscopic sphere experienced a catastrophic expansion of volume, violently reshaping its mass into a towering, humanoid silhouette.
Before I could even blink, a twenty-meter-tall titan forged entirely from fused, corrupt flesh loomed directly over my tiny ostrich frame.
"...Oh, so it stops at that size."
I mean, don't get me wrong, the sudden growth spurt was certainly visually striking, but we have monsters of this exact scale casually roaming around our backyard back in the Highlands... and the raw power radiating from its core was a tier I had encountered dozens of times during our daily strolls. Had this been the version of me prior to my formal mana awakening, I would have immediately ordered a full-scale retreat, but with my current specifications? This was entirely manageable. Honestly, if I brought the entire flock over, we could probably stomp this thing into a pancake through raw numbers...
Man, I almost feel bad for it. Usually, the protagonist is supposed to look terrified or shocked when the giant boss spawns, right? Should we take it from the top and let it re-do its entrance?
I offered the question aloud, but the titan offered no civilized response. Instead, it raised a massive, boulder-sized fist, bringing it crashing down toward my position with absolute, building-shattering fury. Ah, looks like I hurt its feelings.
"Well, since the physical vessel is fully stabilized, my mana restrictions are officially lifted... Time to show you what an ostrich can really do!"
〇 Meanwhile, at the Strategic Command Post
"Yes, this is the Tactician speaking. ...Ah, Red Knight. Are you unharmed? Your transmission was significantly delayed, which caused me no small amount of professional anxiety... Wait, she breached your neurological architecture?! And she accessed the Body Double's memories as well?! I-Is his consciousness secure... Ah, I see, there are no lasting complications. The Holy Church's specialized medical team has already executed a full diagnostic and cleared both subjects of any anomalies? That is a profound relief. ...Which means our target is currently still lingering within the palace perimeter? ...Understood, I copy. Despite the clean bill of health, the psychological strain must be immense. Please ensure both yourself and the Body Double enter immediate, mandatory rest. I shall handle the closing sequences."