4.

Sending his voice wasn't difficult. Adding a microphone function to the otherwise featureless location tracker was cheap enough for one gold. The reason he'd contacted the princess only after a week had passed was because the environment hadn't been favorable. A soldier's every move on the battlefield is highly restricted. Besides, he had only rediscovered the location tracker after marching for several days. In a situation where even going to the bathroom required a three-man buddy system, there was no way he would have time to make a personal call.

He was finally able to break through that unintentional strictness and contact the princess because he had decided it was time to make his move.

"I need to use the bathroom. I'll be back."

Late at night, a time when the tension of the battlefield had eased considerably. It was possible because the gorge was also quiet. He went into the forest, put on an earphone, and turned on the microphone. And then he heard their solemn conversation.

'Perfect timing.'

It was a moment that would be a turning point. He just didn't know he would time it this perfectly.

"You'd sell your soul? Sell it to me."

He snapped up the bait the princess had thrown. He probably could have hooked her without saying such a thing, but there was no harm in raising his favorability this way.

—…Mr. Buja?

A cautious voice came through a moment later. This couldn't be her first time communicating like this. There might not be portable radios or phones in this world, but magic existed.

—How… Where are you?

"I'm outside the gorge right now, disguised as a soldier of the Allied Forces. Let's save the pleasantries for later. For now, you really are willing to make a pact with a demon, right?"

She was silent again. She was probably trying to grasp the true meaning behind his words. Or she might have already jumped to some conclusion on her own. He wanted to clear up any minor misunderstandings. Fortunately, the princess was not a petty person who would carry a misunderstanding alone.

—Were you a black magic user?

It was a reasonable suspicion. She hadn't considered it before, but now that he'd said it, the idea seemed so plausible she was surprised it hadn't occurred to her. Black magic and the dark arts often created greater power by sacrificing something. Perhaps food worked on a similar principle. And the amenities he had installed in the cave might have been a black magic circle the Alliance knights couldn't even notice. The question came naturally. He understood.

"No, I'm not a warlock. But I think I can produce a similar effect. It's not important that I'm the one doing it, is it? The Allied soldiers here all believe you've made some sort of contract with a warlock and are in contact with demons anyway. I'm thinking of using that to stage something. Are you confident you can handle it?"

It didn't matter to her. In this situation, what difference would it make if he was a warlock or a demon? She had even said she would sell her soul to take revenge on the ones who had destroyed her empire. But her answer didn't come easily.

"Now that you're actually thinking about becoming the great evil of the continent who made a pact with a demon, are you getting scared? Wondering what the point is of rebuilding the Empire if it becomes a fact that you colluded with demons?"

—…Yes.

It couldn't be helped. When humans find hope, they don't want to let go of what they have. 'If my dignity disappears at the final moment, can this whole process truly lead to a clean conclusion?' A rumor that she was involved with demons and the fact of it were entirely different. A rumor was something she was confident she could wash away someday. A fact was something that would stick even after everything was over.

In the end, even if the rebuilding of the Empire was recorded in the continent's history, it would be recorded as a victory for evil. Outwardly, everyone would praise her, saying it must have been a misunderstanding, just a bad rumor. But the stain would remain, starting with the princess herself. It wasn't because she was inherently good; it was a belief she had been taught since she was young. The religion of the continent that served God. Demons are evil, and those who associate with them are burned at the stake. The belief ingrained in her very bones was fiercely resisting.

There was no need for Kim Buja to persuade her. He wasn't a real warlock. The picture he intended to paint via the Gold Shop was one where it looked like the princess was using black magic, not one where he was actually using it himself. He couldn't anyway; his Gold Shop level was too low.

He waited patiently. Leisurely. Even though he didn't have much time, having said he was going to the bathroom.

—Okay.

—Your Highness! I would rather…!

Despite Callis's cry from the side, the princess, having made her decision, was resolute.

—It's right that I do it. Nothing would change even if Sir Callis did it.

"That's right."

Kim Buja nodded. In truth, it didn't matter what her answer was.

"Even if you said you couldn't, I would have done it anyway. I have to save you first."

The reason he asked was because he hoped the princess wouldn't become weak. The woman he'd seen so far wasn't that kind of person, but humans were animals that would always shift responsibility if they could and seek their own comfort.

"Alright, then I'll give you a simple mission briefing and action guidelines. The operation will commence tomorrow at midnight, including preparation time."

It only took about five minutes. The briefing was short.

* * *

The next morning, all troops were once again in battle formation. A sudden change in movement had been detected from inside the gorge.

"All troops, stand by! The ones who colluded with demons are finally about to show their true colors! Do not break rank and prepare for battle!"

Behind the knight who shouted this, Kim Buja saw the wavering eyes of the commanders.

'There's definitely something more to this.'

It was still just a guess. But having read countless fantasy novels and played games, he knew that behind these kinds of misunderstandings and conspiracies, there is always a mastermind. In fact, if you asked a hundred players who ran dungeons back in reality, ninety-nine would call the current story cliché and predictable.

Then they would say: 'It's obvious. There are traitors in the Allied Forces who have joined hands with the demons, and they've colluded with a few nobles from the Empire to pull this off.'

The one reason he could say this with such conviction was that he had met the princess in person. She was not that kind of person. Of course, anyone could be "that kind of person," but rationally speaking, unless the demon-pact Princess intended to destroy the Empire and drag in someone from another dimension like him to ruin the entire continent, there was no way she would have been captured and sold as a slave.

Most importantly, the high priest and the saintess were nowhere to be seen. At best, there were a few priests in clerical robes who looked like they could barely stop the bleeding of a soldier with a severed limb. It was as good as evidence. The Alliance command knew the princess had nothing to do with demons. Their wavering eyes were the reaction of men seeing something they believed to be impossible.

'It can't be,' they would think.

But it was.

"It's… it's a dark energy!"

"It's spreading from the gorge!"

"All troops, fall back! Do not get swept up in the smoke of black magic!"

The scouts watching from above would have reported it: inside the gorge, with the princess at the center, the knights were cutting their own thighs with their swords—their very extensions of self—to draw a massive magic circle in blood. The princess stood in the middle of it. To the faithful, just hearing the description was blasphemy itself. It was terrifying, like a demon manifesting.

That was the goal. The soldiers slowly backed away. The command, caught in an unexpected situation, couldn't give the order to charge. Time passed. The sun rose to its zenith and began to set. The smoke continuously poured out of the gorge, and the moment darkness ruled the battlefield, the Allied Forces grew even more tense.

It was night. The time of demons. Whatever scheme they were plotting, it was dangerous now.

"Do not let your guard down! Whatever comes out, fight back!"

The battle line actually pushed forward, driven by fear of the demons but also by a belief that they could overcome them.

"We can beat whatever comes at us!"

"Raaaaaah!"

To boost morale, the allied knights moved to the very front, a clear sign they would not throw their soldiers as fodder to win the battle. It was impressive, even to Kim Buja. He didn't know what tier of dungeon monster the demons here would be, but he felt that on this battlefield, they would be no match for the Allied Forces.

Unfortunately, their enemy was not demons. The Allied Forces were wary of the unseen, non-existent demons, but they were not wary of Kim Buja hiding among them.

That was their mistake. A very minor mistake that would become the beginning of the Battle of Erda Gorge, a battle that would go down in history.

"Kegh!"

"Ack!"

It began in the tense silence of the battlefield. Soldiers collapsed, vomiting blood. Not just one or two. Hundreds fell simultaneously, as if they were being picked off evenly from the widely spread formation.

"What's going on?!"

"They've… they've collapsed!"

"They're dead!"

They didn't just collapse. They all died vomiting blood. Among the numerous soldiers, there were even a few knights.

"What happened?!"

"Secure the perimeter! It's black magic!"

Naturally, the smoke flowing out of the gorge was identified as the culprit. There was no other way to explain this bizarre phenomenon. The front line, filled with the grim will to cut down anything in its path, retreated far from the smoke and reformed. The thousands of fallen soldiers only amplified the grotesqueness of the scene.

Anxiety began to ripple through the ranks. On the battlefield, anxiety directly leads to a drop in morale. And morale, regardless of the number of enemies or allies, determines the outcome of a battle.

"Ack!"

"Klegh!"

Thirty minutes later, it happened again. This time, too, thousands of soldiers died, including knights with low magic. The soldiers cried out for priests, but there weren't many deployed on the battlefield. High priests were even harder to find, and the few that were there just shook their heads.

"It is not black magic."

But the command could not announce this. They had known from the beginning that the princess had no connection to black magic. But what was this scene they were witnessing? Confusion dominated their minds. The soldiers' morale plummeted. The command was in chaos. A single word flashed through the minds of the still numerous allied soldiers.

Defeat.

A battle they could never lose, a one-sided hunt, had been overturned in an instant.

* * *

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