Author: Hyougetsu	Original Source: Syosetu
Translator: Mab	English Source: Re:Library

As it turned out, assembling the trebuchets was more of an undertaking than I had expected.
They were driving stakes into the ground and everything—maybe it would take an hour or so… Well, I was certainly glad they were taking their time, but I was the one left waiting around, bored.
No helping it. I might as well provoke them a little.
Now that they had committed to setting up the trebuchets, no amount of taunting would move the main force.
Probably safe enough.

“Hey, humans. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

I had only meant to toss out a stock line, but the enemy vanguard hastily leveled their spears at me.
They truly seemed to think I might charge alone.
Their caution made me chuckle.

“Heh…”

Oh crap—I still had the amplification spell active.

Perhaps they took my laughter as mockery, because a cavalryman who looked like the commander of the spearmen started shouting something.
Something about the bounty on my head, something about the pride of the Miraldia Alliance army—roughly that sort of thing.
Yet no one stepped forward.
With a Senate that assassinates governors, one had to wonder whether they would actually pay a bounty. Pride, indeed.

Before long, sooner than I expected, the trebuchets finished assembly and swung back their long arms.
Ever since I’d been launched into the sky by a catapult, I’d gained a bit of familiarity with ballistic trajectories.
If it’s just trebuchet fire, I’ll handle it.

There were eight trebuchets in total. Around two hundred men were operating them to hurl stones.
At this range, the stones were likely only a bit heavier than a human. Anything heavier wouldn’t reach the upper levels of the buildings.
At the command, the stones were released.
Eight in total—no, seven. One had failed. A stone landed near the infantry.
As I thought, they lacked real combat experience.

I retreated while tracking the trajectories of the seven stones.
Five would not reach Zaria. Of the remaining two, I targeted the one tracing the most troublesome arc.
Using muscles enhanced by magic, I leapt with all my strength.
A werewolf can easily clear the height of a three-story building. In my current reinforced state, I could reach five stories.
I gently caught the stone in midair.

Smashing it apart with my claws would look impressive, but it seemed rather painful.
As long as it didn’t hit the buildings, that was enough. I forced it downward with my weight, altering its path. The stone plummeted.
That would keep it from reaching Zaria.
I landed neatly.
Now, the provocation.

“So this is the extent of human-made weaponry… How dull.”

Stung by my taunt, the trebuchet corps launched a second volley. Four stones this time. It seemed they were alternating in groups of four.
Their aim was more accurate now. The stones also appeared lighter than before.
The only ones I truly needed to stop were direct hits on the upper floors.
Zaria’s lower levels were built of stone, assembled like fortress walls to bear the weight above and withstand battle. They would not crumble so easily.

I caught one stone in midair and slammed it down. The others would miss, so I ignored them.
Even accounting for magical reinforcement, this was easier than I had expected. Inappropriately enough, it even had a certain catch-and-throw appeal.
This stone was quite light—about Aylia’s weight.
For the sake of her honor, I would not calculate how many kilograms that might be.

Right—another taunt.

“You do not seriously believe this will bring down Zaria?”

From the four waiting trebuchets came the third volley. They were persistent.
But I was getting accustomed to it as well.
Trebuchets are powerful, but compared to the magically enhanced strength of a werewolf, the gap is not insurmountable.

This time, I decided to try kicking a caught stone back into their ranks.
I pressed both feet against the stone, arched backward, and kicked diagonally upward. That way I could channel the strength of my entire body.
I also invoked one of my strength-enhancement spells—Explosive Mighty Force. Difficult to time and impractical in prolonged combat, but for a single instant it grants power like that of a war god.

“Take it back!”

My double kick sent the stone flying like a cannonball.
Please reach them…

Using the recoil from the kick, I flipped in midair and landed.
The stone seemed to impact near the front ranks of the spearmen. Cries erupted, and the formation faltered.
Fortunately, no one had been foolish enough to be struck directly, but the spearmen were shouting something.
Apparently they were telling their allies to cease the bombardment.
Throw stones, stop throwing stones—make up your minds.

I did not miss this opportunity.

“Look well. My subordinates grow bored.”

At my raised hand, the werewolves waiting on the rooftops rose in unison. …I could not see them from here, but they should be following our plan.
Like me, they wore Zaria-style attire with cloaks billowing behind them.
Those thick cloaks could, in an emergency, be hurled at incoming stones to deflect their trajectory like casting nets.
Most civilians had evacuated to the lower southern buildings; any direct hits there would be diverted that way.
For now, they wore them normally to project intimidation.
The flags fluttering everywhere served the same purpose.

In a tone of ample leisure, I sneered:

“Go on, throw as many as you like. When your stone-tossing game ends, it will be our turn. Werewolves prefer flesh to stone. HA HA HA HA!”

We do love meat.
Though not raw, unbled flesh—human or otherwise.

In the end, the trebuchets fell silent.
If they had fired just once more, I would have landed one squarely among the spearmen—but the enemy seemed wary of that.
Now the Miraldia Alliance army had no effective move.
They had placed their trebuchets poorly and were achieving little effect. Worse, I was kicking the stones back.
Unless the bombardment succeeded, entering Zaria would incur excessive casualties.

In reality, the Alliance army still held overwhelming superiority—but they did not know that.
Gradually their formation began to fray. The archers on both flanks started edging backward.
The spearmen still held, yet the great shields arrayed before them wavered uneasily. Even as they braced, they were glancing left and right.

The Miraldia Alliance army sortied under Senate orders and attacked the labyrinth city Zaria with bows and trebuchets.
However, they failed to inflict effective damage. The reason: interception by the werewolves of the Demon Lord’s army.
With the bombardment unsuccessful, they judged the capture of Zaria impossible.

If they reported it that way, they would likely avoid punishment.
So if they retreated now, they could probably get away with it.

Especially the rank-and-file soldiers—they clearly wanted to go home.
The commanders were shouting something, but once the morale reached such a low point, little could be done.
Finally, perhaps losing patience, one who appeared to be a commander spurred his horse forward.

A knight clad in sturdy armor, wielding a thick two-handed sword.

“Oh! That greatsword—could it be!?”
“It’s Lord Vorzharb! The mighty beast-slayer!”

The Miraldia Alliance soldiers shouted fervently. Evidently, he was someone famous.

The knight leveled his two-handed sword and roared:

“I am Vorzharb, Centurion directly under the Senate!”

A somewhat middling rank.
In human armies, the overall commander is usually older; the one who steps out for single combat is about this level.

“Forget it, you are facing death.”

I should be able to temporarily disable the amplification spell, but I had forgotten how.
So my voice carried fully to them.
Though his face was hidden by a full helm, the knight’s voice burned with outrage.

“Don’t you know who I am, you beast?! I am Vorzharb the Boar-Splitter!”
“I do not…”

That was not provocation. I truly had no idea.

I am poor at one-on-one exchanges with strangers, so I shouted toward the Alliance ranks:

“Humans. If this is the best you’ve got, then I suggest sending more.”
“Do not mock me! I am Vorzharb, champion swordsman of the Vilheim and Arjög tournaments! Even southerners must know my name!”

There is no television or internet in this world. I genuinely do not know.
Though I felt a bit sorry for him, I don’t know what I don’t know, so I deflected.

“Do not be arrogant, human. Do not think you can defeat me alone. Go home.”

I truly wished he would leave since there was little point in this, but I had to play the “cruel werewolf,” and so my words inevitably sounded like taunts.
As expected, the knight flew into a rage. Dismounting, he held the greatsword before his chest and performed a formal salute of duel.

“As a soldier of Miraldia, I challenge you to one-on-one combat!”

Formally challenged, I could not refuse without compromising my position.
I would warn him once more.

“You are stronger than a trebuchet, I trust?”
“What!?”

I had meant, indirectly, “Do not do this,” but with the persona I was forcing, it did not come across.

Half-maddened with fury, the knight raised his sword and charged.

“My mighty blade cleave Mad Boars in two—even a werewolf cannot withstand it! Take this!”

By Mad Boars, you mean the one werewolf children hunt as casually as catching beetles?
For a human to slay one with a sword is impressive. But whether that suffices against a werewolf is another matter.
Still, in the presence of my subordinates, in a formally declared duel, I had obligations as a commander of the Demon Lord’s army.
This is a battlefield, one cannot act halfway.

“I warned you.”

I deflected the descending blade and raked the forward-leaning knight’s face with my claws.
The full helm split cleanly like a boiled egg; fragments scattered.
His head severed, and the knight collapsed.
The battlefield fell silent.
I know he came at me despite all my warnings, but this left a bitter aftertaste…

“Who is next?”

As I stepped forward, the shield-bearing spearmen edged backward.