Project Necro is an official initiative by Re:Library.

Before long, it became clear the citizen militia seriously intended to kill the fake Saintess.

“NOOO!!!”

Being dragged by the hair was Saintess Mildine.

“I didn’t do anything wrong! Someone important in the Senate told me to do it! I was just following orders—why do I have to die for that?!”

Tears streamed down her face as she clung to the stone pavement. Her saintly dignity was nowhere to be seen..

“Aren’t you the Saintess?! Then act like one to the bitter end!”
“I’m not a Saintess! I’m just a low-ranking bureaucrat!”

She shook her head desperately, resisting with all her might.

I understood why the soldiers were furious at her. They had been tricked by the false Hero and barely escaped death.
But still, she was just a tool used by the Senate.
Much about the Senate remained unclear, but it was obvious a low-level official like her couldn’t defy them.

Eventually, Mildine was dragged onto the plaza’s stone platform and pinned down by several people.

“Damn the Senate! Always strutting around like they’re better than us!”
“Can’t forgive this anymore! You’re done!”
“No—no, please! I don’t want to die! I’ll apologize! Just spare me!”
“We’ve had enough! Do it!”
“Nooo! Please, I don’t want to dieeeee!!”

Surprisingly, no one tried to stop them. They were channeling all their hatred toward the Senate into her.
It seemed the Senate wasn’t very popular.

But no matter whose orders she followed, the fact remained that she deceived many people and led them to their deaths.
And besides, she was our enemy.
…Still, I couldn’t just stand by and watch a girl get killed.
I whispered to Mao’s subordinates nearby:

“I’m going to transform. Get clear.”
“Lord Veit, what are you going to do!?”
“Save a life, I guess?”
“But that’s crazy! Everyone here is your enemy!”

Yeah, I knew it didn’t make much sense.
But I really don’t like seeing people die outside the battlefield.

I transformed and leapt onto the stage.
With just one hand, I grabbed the nearest soldier and flung him into the crowd below.
The soldiers were too stunned to grasp what was happening.

“A werewolf!?”
“W-We’ve got a werewolf!”
“We’re under attack!”

Panic spread like a kicked hornet’s nest.
I kicked soldiers off the platform, and if they resisted, I grabbed their helmets and lightly flexed my hands.
That’s enough to warp their helmets in a way that would cover their vision. Then I kicked them all the same.
I quickly took out ten or so and secured the stage.
Compared to the fake heroes from before, these regular soldiers were way weaker. Easy work.

Since I had their attention, I figured I might as well do a little demonstration.

“I am Veit, general of the Demon Lord’s army! I’ve sent your so-called Hero to hell! Your so-called champions are no match for us demons!”

That froze everyone in place.

“Veit!?”
“The werewolf general who destroyed Tübahn!”

Hey now, I didn’t destroy it…

Even the fierce regular troops and the enraged citizen militia, paralyzed then they heard my name.

“The legendary Slayer of Four Hundred…”
“No, it was Four Thousand. There’s no one left alive in Tübahn.”
“The Wall-Breaking Werewolf… They say not even Tübahn’s fortress could withstand his attack…”

Wait, wasn’t this getting way too exaggerated?
If all that were true, I’d be as strong as the Demon Lord himself.

I had planned to beat down anyone who challenged me, but now that they were so intimidated, I didn’t know what to do.
Well, this is a pickle. I’d wanted to make a big scene.
Like a rookie stand-up comedian who forgot their sketch, I looked around the stage recklessly.
Oh—there was the Saintess.
She was supposed to be a mage who specialized in dramatic performances for rituals, right?
Maybe I could put her to use.

“Hey. If you don’t want to die, cast an illusion that’ll really scare them. We’ll sneak out in the chaos.”
“But why would you…?”

She clearly didn’t expect me to help. To be honest, I didn’t either.

“I promised not to kill you. Leaving you here would be breaking that promise.”

I gave a half-assed excuse and urged her on.

“Just do it already. You want to live, right?”
“Y-Yes!”

Fake Saintess Mildine nodded frantically and began chanting, surprisingly smoothly despite her panic.
As soon as she finished, the surroundings darkened.
What’s happening?

“GWAHAHAHAHA!”

It was my voice. Heavily altered, yes, but I know it’s mine and it’s booming from overhead.
When I looked up, I saw a giant werewolf towering above us.
The illusion was scarily realistic. As expected from a specialist.

“You weaklings aren’t even fit to feed me! Come at me if you want to die! Killing four thousand, forty thousand—it’s all the same!”

The body count had somehow jumped again…
But, that thoroughly collapsed the soldiers’ morale.
Their Hero was fake. He even became a zombie. The Saintess was a bureaucrat. A werewolf showed up. Then it got huge.
With that many shocks back-to-back, anyone would panic.

The illusionary me shouted again:

“My werewolves are everywhere! We hide amongst you! Be on your guard, if you will!”

Oh yeah, I was still disguised as a Miraldia citizen militia.
Hearing the illusion say that, the soldiers began eyeing each other nervously. Their attention shifted from the platform.
Considering it was improvised, she came up with a pretty clever performance. I had to give the Saintess some credit.
Hidden in the illusion’s shadow, I changed back to my human form.
I hoisted Mildine onto my shoulder and got the hell out of there.

“Um, where are you going?”

Mao’s subordinates asked nervously.

“I’m taking her back.”
“I-I see…”
“You guys be careful too. Don’t do anything reckless.”

They looked at each other and replied:

“Hearing that from you feels wrong in a lot of ways….”

Huh? Really?
And so I escaped the chaos in Schwelm, carrying the fake Saintess, and returned to Lüenheit.

Later on. Apparently the northern front took a strange turn.
Distrust in the Senate grew among the troops, and most citizen soldiers returned home.
The Senate worked hard to deny the “Fake Hero Lanhardt” rumors, so Miraldia’s side concluded the incident as “unconfirmed suspicions.”
They justified it all by saying I was insanely strong, basically Demon Lord-level. Rumors now call me “Quasi-Demon Lord Class” or “Lesser Demon King Tier.”
Can they stop hyping me up already? …I’m not that strong, so it’s actually embarrassing.

All that remained in Schwelm were the standing army, the citizen militia of Schwelm and Berchen, as well as guards of both cities.
They even started regularly checking every soldier for disguised demons.
Thanks to that, their personnel management becomes a living nightmare, basically paralyzing their army on the spot.

Meanwhile, in the Demon Lord Army’s side of story. Thanks to Master siphoning all that magical energy, all the wounded soldiers in the Second Division managed to return to the front line.
Well, she even regenerated lost eyes and limbs, no wonder they’d jump right back into action.
Obviously that exerted a lot of magic energy from her, but thanks to that, the Second Division troops now call her the Saintess or Holy Mother.
Maybe that struck her fancy, as she’s started visiting the Northern front more often now.

“But Master, Magic Weapons are valuable both strategically and academically. Please don’t treat them like junk.”
“Human weapons don’t suit demons. Our body proportions are different. And to ancient mages, those things were just storage for mana. I just used them for their intended purpose.”
“Well, they are valuable now. They boost morale when issued to soldiers. Couldn’t you have left one shield untouched?”

I agree with her logic, but she didn’t have to suck all of them dry.
Magical gear is highly sought after. Back in my previous life as a gamer, I decked myself out in it.
Now that I’m a werewolf though, even when they’re real now, I can barely equip any of it…

“Well then, maybe I’ll craft something when I’ve got the spare mana. A masterpiece from the Great Sage Gomoviroa. How’s that?”
“Well, if you would…”
“How about a necklace that turns you into a zombie upon death, so you can keep fighting?”
“How much do you love necromancy? Please make one that will keep them alive.”

She scratched her head awkwardly.

“Necromancy is my specialty, you can’t fault me for defaulting to it. Otherwise I can’t make them in quantity. Besides, you wouldn’t want a helmet that grants courage and protection from the spirits of fallen comrades either…”
“Actually, that sounds perfect.”

She ended up making a few of those helmets, and her reputation in the Second Division soared.
While I do believe she should do this more often, Master’s terrible at socializing…
Mages are all weird by default, me included, but necromancers are on another level. They see the world differently.
She’s as much of a handful as Division Commander Tiberit, in her own way. Strong demons tend to live without care for others, and they’re prime examples of it.
That’s why they need vice-commanders who are low-profile and grounded. Like me.

With morale, numbers, and gear recovered, the Second Division now holds steady against the Miraldia Alliance.
Their forces are way smaller than at the start, but if the chance arises, they could retake Schwelm.
Looks like the northern front is safe for now.

Meanwhile, Merchant Mao seemed displeased with me.

“Why didn’t you contact my subordinates first?”
“Because you’re sketchy. Reflect on that.”
“I won’t deny my predisposition. However, I wouldn’t turn coat without a profit motive. This is insulting.”

Apparently, what upset him most wasn’t being distrusted, it was being thought of as someone who’d betray without gain.

“A merchant who can’t weigh profit and loss is worse than a greedy coward. You are basically saying to my face I am unfit for the trade.”
“I-Is that so? Sorry about that.”

Why am I the one apologizing?

Even my subordinates had complaints:

“Hey. I heard the Boss snuck off again on his own.”
“He’s the Supreme Commander in the Southern Front, what’s he doing up north…?”
“Well, I heard he went to defeat the fake hero.”
“I don’t get this guy at all.”

Guys, can you stop badmouthing me within earshot in the office? I can’t read my reports in peace.

“And what’s the deal with the prisoner woman?”
“She’s the fake Saintess who was with the fake Hero.”
“He’s unbelievable…”

How long are you guys going to roast me? Shoo. Shoo. Go home already.
I wanted to deny them, but it was all true, so I couldn’t say anything.

“Boss is absurdly strong for a werewolf… He thinks he’s fine being reckless, that’s why it got to his head.”
“That just means we have to support him. We can’t let him die.”
“Yeah. Too much riding on him. The future of the demonkind, even.”

Am I being labeled a problem child now too…?