The game Blackout essentially possessed the mechanics of an RPG, but in reality, it was a chaotic mix of various genres, all jumbled together like a stew.
Growth for moving forward.
Management for the sake of the group.
Character-driven storylines.
Exploration to uncover hidden elements.
And—
War.
Even in Blackout, war was one of the more frequently encountered contents, more than one might expect.
Just like what was unfolding before his eyes now.
“Whew.”
There were a lot of them.
It was late at night. The enemies were preparing their camp.
Upon confirming this, Jun unfolded his map.
He recalled his current location and overlaid it with memories from his days as “Lee Jung-jun”.
The Warfield of Orcutas.
A field where he had spent a long time playing his first character, a warrior class.
With his [Excellent Memory], he recalled the terrain his character had roamed back then.
He pushed away all other idle thoughts except for the map in his mind.
He erased himself.
It was a familiar act.
It was the method he used whenever he needed to sort through a rush of memories.
And then, instead of his own identity, Jun overlaid the image of a “conqueror” in that space.
If I were the Orc Lord…
How would I, the Conqueror King, act?
First, he would increase his numbers.
To do so, he would search for mediums and unite the orcs scattered throughout the fields.
The Orc Lord’s indomitable spirit made that possible.
Then what came next?
Food.
Now, his army had grown to be more than five hundred strong.
The orcs’ remarkable stamina stemmed from their naturally immense appetites.
So they had to be well-fed.
Where would he acquire that?
Hunting.
And then?
It was inefficient for the entire army to go hunting and fetch drinking water every time.
So, should he create a supply unit?
Too early.
The orcs didn’t have any proper means of transportation.
Therefore, they needed to move while hitting only the essential hunting grounds along the shortest possible routes.
Okay.
The optimal route had been mapped out, and Jun moved immediately.
Turning his back to the direction where the Orc Lord was, he concealed himself in the shade of the forest trees.
***
“Barbata. So you’ve died after all.”
Hargon looked down at the hand of the body he had taken over.
For a brief moment, he felt his soul shake violently.
Barbata.
The shaman once called the brain of the Conqueror King had closed his eyes before he could even demonstrate his full power.
With the erasure of one medium, Hargon’s power had suffered permanent damage.
“My lord.”
“I’m fine.”
Though not to the extent of Barbata, Hargon also possessed knowledge of witchcraft.
After all, Barbata had been his teacher.
This was something that could be resolved with time.
“March.”
Still, he had to admit it.
He didn’t have much time.
He needed to hurry and find the next medium.
The title “Conqueror King” wasn’t earned through strength alone.
He was meticulous in planning and did not tolerate even the slightest variable.
He had to think slowly, worry briefly, and act swiftly.
Hargon placed his hand on the food his subordinates had brought him.
The table was filled with various fruits and meats.
This frail body had to eat a lot and grow stronger in order to accept his power.
Just as he took a bite of the meat—
“Ptoo.”
He spat it out the moment he tasted it.
His instincts told him.
This wasn’t something he should eat.
“Poison?”
By whom?
That was the first thought that came to mind.
It wasn’t a poison so strong that this weak body couldn’t endure it.
Had he eaten it, he might’ve just ended up with an upset stomach.
So when he brought water to his mouth to rinse it out—
“Ptoo.”
His instincts reacted again.
He immediately spat the water out.
This time, it wouldn’t have ended with just a stomachache. If he had drunk it, he would’ve suffered a headache for at least half a day.
Hargon immediately rose from his seat and looked out at the scene outside.
He saw one out of every five clutching either their stomach or their head.
The thought crossed his mind. They’d been hit all at once.
Hargon’s eyes twisted into a fierce scowl.
***
Over the course of a week, Jun had prepared several traps based on a carefully calculated route.
One of them was poison. It was a rare chance for his [Herbology] and [Potion Crafting] skills to shine again.
He spread poison in the lake where the enemy would replenish their drinking water.
He also sprinkled poison on goblins and beasts.
It wasn’t a particularly potent poison.
If it had been lethal, the orcs would’ve sensed something and avoided eating it altogether.
“Still, it’s less effective than I expected.”
At least the poison in the water had spread fairly well, but the orcs weren’t completely stupid.
They boil their water and cook their meat.
Jun had targeted those who ate raw food.
Guess there weren’t as many as I thought.
Even so, from a rough visual estimate, about one-fifth of the orcs were complaining of pain.
Now then, what will he do?
Jun tried to predict what the Orc Lord was thinking.
His thoughts were likely in turmoil.
He would be concerned about those targeting the mediums, and he would also be wary of any movement to retrieve it. Routes and supply lines related to it must weigh on his mind as well.
But in the end, the choices available to him were limited.
Jun had been forcing those choices upon him.
***
Too hasty.
That was the thought that crossed Hargon’s mind the moment he detected the poison.
True to his title as the Conqueror King, Hargon always acted according to a meticulous plan. One of his strengths was creating a process so thorough that no variables could interfere.
But the moment he stepped outside, the variables had already begun to exist.
Overlooking that had been his biggest mistake.
The humans he had encountered at the Ancient Temple had stood in his way with a power he couldn’t understand, which was why he had felt an immediate need for strength.
That’s why I tried to form an army first.
That was the reason he moved east. Among the five generals, Vandal and Takuda were the backbone of the army.
I was wrong. I should have gone north. I should have moved with Barbata and Bortan.
Those two generals lacked raw combat ability, but they excelled at neutralizing unforeseen variables.
They would have been able to prepare for a situation like this.
Especially Bortan.
As an Orc Rider with swift mobility, his unit would have been able to respond quickly to unexpected developments like this.
But regret, no matter how swiftly it arrived, was always too late. Hargon didn’t dwell on it for long.
Instead, he looked for a way to overcome the current situation.
How many of them were poisoned?
Like someone else had done before, Hargon imagined himself in the enemy’s position.
Back at the Ancient Temple, the enemy forces he had seen numbered no more than thirty at best.
With Barbata’s recent death, most of those forces were likely in the north.
That meant the ones spreading poison now were moving in a very small group.
At most, fewer than five. But even so, just predicting our path and poisoning us wouldn’t have been enough.
The death of the shaman and the traps that seemed to have pierced right through their planned route.
Judging by those two things—
They know exactly where the generals are, and they also know what I want.
There was no way the current outcome could have been achieved otherwise.
The important thing now is…
It likely meant that the number of enemies who had set the traps was small.
Realizing this, Hargon moved immediately.
He recalled the location where Takuda was sealed.
A place that would take two more days to reach by ordinary means.
But if he ran at full speed?
A single day would be enough.
Having reached that conclusion, Hargon gave an order to Vandal.
“We move now.”
“I shall obey.”
***
From late at night, the orcs began moving noisily.
Jun found himself once again impressed by the decision-making of the Orc Lord, which he had also witnessed in the game.
“That crazy bastard’s just abandoning the poisoned ones and moving on.”
He had hoped to slow their advance with the poison, but it hadn’t worked.
So he’s planning to find the next medium and use the freed-up troops to stabilize.
In the end, Jun moved to match their pace.
If there was a silver lining, it was that Jun had better mobility than they did.
No matter how fast they ran at full speed, they were still an army, and he was just one person.
He drew up his magical power and focused it on his legs.
[Burning Step]
[Multicasting]
[Grease: Transformation – Sustained Form]
[Grease].
It was a second-circle spell. A trap-type spell that eliminated friction in a certain area to make it slippery.
Jun had customized it to suit his own needs, maintaining it precisely under his feet only.
With [Burning Step] propelling him forward as if he were sliding, and [Grease] removing all friction with the ground beneath him, even the limits of acceleration vanished.
That speed pushed the very limits of what his vision could handle.
His destination was the direction where the next medium was likely to be.
Just as the orcs ran day and night without rest,
Jun also had a lot to prepare once he arrived.
***
A calculating bastard.
Jun clicked his tongue as he watched the orc army climbing up the mountain before he realized it.
In just a single day, the guy had resupplied the fifty orcs he had abandoned.
There must have been an orc village on the way.
But revealing your emotions in front of the enemy was something only an amateur would do.
Jun pretended to be nonchalant as he stood before the orc army.
The location was midway up a mountain filled with rocks.
Jun was looking down at them from above.
“Hey there.”
– Berduda!
When the Orc Lord shouted from afar, the orcs who had been climbing the mountain with weary expressions all came to a sudden halt.
“Deruda Kanta. Be Hakurada.”
The ancient language knowledge held by the reincarnator automatically interpreted the orc’s words.
He was asking if he had come alone.
“Yeah, I’m flying solo.”
Raising both arms as if to show there was no one else around, Jun spoke. At that moment, the [Keen Eyesight] skill clearly revealed the Orc Lord’s expression.
It was a look of utter disbelief.
Stopping an orc of that size with just numbers?
No matter how much a mage enjoyed area attacks, they weren’t capable of taking down orcs that size all at once.
To reach that level, you’d have to be at least seventh circle or maybe eighth, to be safe.
“Deru Da Kuta.”
Meet your death as a warrior.
It was basically telling him to die honorably.
“Well now.”
In contrast, Jun looked at the Orc Lord with an expression of pity.
A warrior?
Sorry, but I’m a mage.
“Apologies in advance. This might sting a little.”
And a mage never fights head-on in a disadvantageous situation.
A wave of mana surged over the magic circle drawn in his mental landscape.
The image he had formed was of violently greedy flames.
[Flame Rage]
A spiral-shaped, blood-red fireball began to take form.
“Go.”
The roaring fireball slowly drifted toward the direction of the orcs, unleashing dozens of fiery tendrils.
– Kuwaaaaaah—!!
A scream-like roar echoed across the rocky mountain.
Even as the flames engulfed them, the orcs charged forward.
They didn’t fall easily like the undead in the Forest of Life and Death.
Muscles as hard as stone blocked the fiery strikes, and their frenzy state dulled the excruciating pain.
Phew.
Mana too was being consumed in torrents, like water gushing from a broken dam.
Due to the orcs’ tenacious vitality, the rate at which mana burned away was just as rapid.
The five hundred orcs quickly closed the distance and they were now right in front of Jun.
Did the magic just now even kill thirty of them?
Barely over twenty, maybe. And not a single elite warrior among them was killed.
As expected. It was just like the orcs to have such stubborn life force.
Hargon didn’t even bat an eye at the loss of that many troops.
“Well, it can’t be helped.”
Jun had anticipated this much.
He immediately carried out the next phase of his plan.
It was a very important move.
“Alright then, see you later.”
He turned tail and ran.
[Burning Step]
[Multicasting]
[Grease: Transformation – Sustained Form]
The orcs who had pushed their way through the flames from the spiral fireball to reach where Jun had just been now stood there blankly, staring at the long trail of fire left behind.
In the blink of an eye, Jun had widened the gap between himself and the orcs, and just then, he heard Hargon shouting after him.
– Kaputadua――!!!
Roughly it meant—
“Was it really necessary to curse my parents? Not that it works on me anyway.”
It wasn’t the kind of insult that would land on an orphan.
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