Chapter 133 - The End of the Weak

 The thunderous roar of thousands of footsteps approached—stomp-stomp-stomp-stomp!—closing in from every direction. The collective vibration of hundreds... no, thousands of men sprinting in unison shook the very air.

The source of the sound arrived in an instant.

The Niosebuk Soldiers.

Fully armed, brandishing a variety of lethal weapons. An uncountable horde. They surrounded me from every angle with a density so high not even an ant could slip through.

"Eighteen-hundred thousand Niosebuk soldiers stationed in the capital!!" Gangastra roared. "Every single one of them will throw away their lives to kill you! How about it? No matter how you manipulate the power of the Spirits, you cannot stand against an elite force of this magnitude! Be tortured to death!!"

It was exactly that classic trope: "I don't care if he's the King! Cut him down! Cut him down!"

I don't usually trust these self-reported numbers—people tend to exaggerate—but still...

...Eighteen-hundred thousand? That’s about the same as a single day's attendance at Comiket.

Having an orgy with eighteen-hundred thousand women would be a blast, but a blood-soaked melee with eighteen-hundred thousand sweaty, hulking men is something I’d rather pass on.

However, with the enemy surrounding us front, back, left, and right, there was no escape. Moreover, Tamagushi was by my side; I had to ensure she wouldn't be harmed.

"Tamagushi...!! You, the traitor, are just as guilty! Don't think for a second you're getting out of this alive!"

"How insulting," Tamagushi replied coolly. "'Traitor' is a word reserved for those who flip from being an ally to an enemy. I was never on your side for even a single moment."

"Shut up! I won't let you die easily! I’ll capture you alive and have all eighteen-hundred thousand of these soldiers gang-rape you! Your noble beauty as a Princess ends today! Your miserable life as a sex slave begins!! You will regret not choosing me from the bottom of your soul!!"

"I am already Sir Sao's sex slave; I have no need for your services," she retorted.

Gangastra's face was etched with pure madness; he looked like a hungry ghost obsessed with a grudge. Even in this state, he was still the Prince of a superpower... the man with a checkmate on the throne. His authority was not to be underestimated. With a single command, these countless brawlers would swarm us.

And there I was, essentially one man, ready to face them.

Well, let’s see how this goes.

"Tamagushi. While I hold them off, find a gap and escape. Got it?"

"Please, do not underestimate me. My Job, [Valkyrie], is that of a sex slave who serves a hero, but also that of a female Reaper who soars through the heavens. It was because of this direct-combat aspect that Imashinunda favored me and allowed me to keep my status as a Princess."

Tamagushi transformed once more into that "fantasy-ero" armor. This was her combat form.

"I will protect your back, Sir Sao. However..."

"Hmm?"

However... what?

"It won't come to that. This battle is already Sir Sao’s victory, anytime, anywhere."

What do you mean? No matter how you slice it, being surrounded by over a hundred thousand people is an overwhelming disadvantage. There's a saying: "War is a numbers game." I figured surviving this would be even tougher than fighting the Prince himself.

"Gangastra has blundered. He was raised in Niosebuk and should be intimately familiar with its nature. Has he become so blind in his disadvantage? A man whose heart is so small that he loses his composure in a crisis is truly unfit to be King."

"Now, elites of Niosebuk! Kill that rebel! Tear him limb from limb and display his mangled corpse on the castle walls!!"

Gangastra screamed his mad orders. I expected the soldiers to charge...

...But they didn't. Wait, what?

"What?! What's wrong?! Your master has commanded you! Fight! What kind of Niosebuk soldiers are you if you won't fight?!"

"The one who deserves that scorn is you, Gangastra."

Surrounded by the Niosebuk soldiers who remained eerily still, our private conversation continued. Or rather, the conversation between Tamagushi and the Third Prince.

"Niosebuk is a warrior nation. Only those who fight have value. And yet, you leave the actual fighting to your subordinates while you sit back in the rear. Can such a man be recognized as the King of this country?"

"Ngh...!"

"Even more than that, Niosebuk treasures winners. Conversely, they look down on and even despise losers. A loser has no value. They aren't even permitted to exist. They are the bottom of the barrel. Trash. Now, by the way..."

Tamagushi spoke in a voice of terrifyingly cold cruelty.

"In this moment, looking at you... what else do you look like but a loser, Gangastra?"

"WH—?!"

On one side: the Prince, right arm blown off, crouching and bleeding. On the other side: Sao, unharmed, with a beautiful woman by his side, looking down on his opponent.

The relationship indicated by this positioning was...

Winner and Loser.

...There was no other way to see it.

"In reality, you have suffered defeat at Sir Sao's hands. Do you understand what that means? You have displayed the miserable sight of your own defeat to the very people you should have never shown it to."

"Guh...!"

"Niosebuk has no mercy for losers. Absolute strength, certain victory in battle—that was your value as the successor to the throne. That is why the soldiers followed you. But now? Look at yourself."

"Wh... ah...!"

The Third Prince looked around frantically. And then he realized. He saw the cold, judging gazes being directed toward him.

"You finally understand, Gangastra. If you truly hadn't given up on a comeback, you shouldn't have called the soldiers; you should have fled with all your might. You should have hidden the fact of your defeat to maintain the illusion of being the 'absolute strongest' while waiting for a chance to counter Sir Sao."

However, the Third Prince didn't know the meaning of the word "patience." He had played his trump card to settle things on the spot—a trump card that had now become dangerously unstable.

The result was the worst possible outcome for him.

I could hear the confused whispers of the soldiers.

"Hey... what's with Prince Gangastra's appearance...?" 

"He's fallen and bleeding... his right arm is gone...!" 

"His invincible fist that fires [Molecular Decay] is?! Who did that?!" 

"That man?! He doesn't have a single scratch on him! And the woman next to him is... Princess Tamagushi, the Eighth Princess?!" 

"The one said to be the second favorite to rival Gangastra?!"

Wait, really? Because such a prominent figure was following me like a handmaiden, my "specialness" was skyrocketing in their eyes. I was the center of attention.

"Loyal soldiers of Niosebuk..." Tamagushi called out. Her voice was sonorous, like a diva's, catching every ear. It was perfect for seizing a crowd's attention.

"Allow me to introduce him. This Sir Sao is one of the sons who inherits the blood of the late King Imashinunda. He is an undeniable candidate for the next King of Niosebuk."

"What—?!"

"His mother was a veteran warrior. Because she was not of royal register, he was not listed as a Prince, but you all know well that there are many such bloodlines. What is required is not status, but strength. It goes without saying that this is the law of Niosebuk."

Tamagushi’s speech rang out through the air. I could see her words sinking into the soldiers' hearts. She was a natural orator—possessing the skill to manipulate a crowd with the resonance of her voice and the smoothness of her tongue.

And this flow of the scene was causing one person unbearable anxiety.

"Everyone! He is a traitor! Don't listen to her foolish lies!!"

"Even if my words were lies, the facts do not change. There you are, having lost your dominant arm, crouching miserably."

It was a classic case of seeing is believing. No matter how much he denied her words, his own wrecked state served as the confirmation. The "invincible" favorite for the throne had been defeated.

Tamagushi understood exactly how this would change the soldiers' minds and was using it to the fullest.

"I declare here: I waive my own right to the throne as the Eighth Princess and swear lifelong loyalty to Sir Sao."

"Wh... WHAT?!"

"Sir Sao is the one fit to be the King of Niosebuk... no, the King of the World. My intuition as a [Valkyrie] whispers this to me. If you are proud soldiers of Niosebuk, judge for yourselves under whom you should fight. Will you fight under the strong? Or under the weak?"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Gangastra shrieked.

"You lot! Don't be seduced by that vixen! I am the strongest! Born with the 'Divine Calling' of [Destroyer] and possessing the ultimate destruction skill [Molecular Decay]! Obey me! To obey the strongest is the pride of a Niosebuk soldier! You all... ngh?!"

At that moment, the Third Prince’s face warped in pain. A blade had been driven into his back.

"He... hehehehehe...!"

The one who stabbed him was one of the Niosebuk soldiers. A vulgar sneer was plastered on his face.

"Wh... 'Strongest' my ass! A piece of trash who loses isn't fit to be the King of Niosebuk...!"

"You... FILTHY TRASH!!"

The Third Prince spun around and swung his fist. Even with his right arm gone, he still had his left. The punch, imbued with his skill, swept through the air, blowing away the soldier's entire upper body and killing him instantly.

"Fools, look! This is my power! The power of [Molecular Decay], which returns anything of matter to dust, cannot be broken! Do you still dare claim I am unfit?!"

"..."

The soldiers went silent for a moment, seemingly intimidated—but the effect lasted less than a few seconds. A murderous aura fueled by resentment and hatred surged forth.

"Why are you acting so high and mighty... you're just a loser...!" 

"A Niosebuk champion must be undefeated! We have no reason to be ordered by a defeated dog who lost his qualification!" 

"That's right, back off! Don't make a scene before our new ruler, Sir Sao!"

Hey, don't use the chaos to put me on a pedestal.

"Sir Sao! Please, give the command! Tell us to deliver the finishing blow to this loser and silence him forever!" 

"We will obey the command of the strongest champion!! Sir Sao, please! It is the happiness of every soldier to be used by one as strong as you!" 

"Sir Sao!"

Get away from me, you creeps. You're annoying.

"There is no need to trouble Sir Sao with the disposal of waste," Tamagushi interjected on her own. "I shall give the command in his stead."

Wait, don't just step in like that...

"I command the brave soldiers of Niosebuk! Punish Gangastra, who dares to defy our new master, Sir Sao. He is no longer a Prince, nor is he the strongest. He is merely a defeated dog who lost his dominant arm and compromised his power. Sir Sao has already passed judgment. The clean-up is a task well-suited for you servants."

"UNDERSTOOD!!"

A very enthusiastic response. And almost simultaneously, the massive army of eighteen-hundred thousand Niosebuk soldiers swarmed toward the Third Prince. (I still don't know if all eighteen-hundred thousand actually fit here.)

"What?! Wait! You fools!!"

The Niosebuk soldiers he had called to attack us were now turning on him to beat him to death. The irony was palpable.

"IDIOTS!!"

With a swing of his left arm, Gangastra blew away dozens of soldiers at once. But since there were tens of thousands, it didn't mean much. Against a seemingly infinite tide of soldiers, he couldn't even catch his breath, forced to just keep swinging his arm.

"Fools! You idiots!! No matter how many thousands of weaklings you pile up, you can't defeat the strongest! I am the peak of survival of the fittest... gah?!"

With his skill, he might have been able to win even against over a hundred thousand—if he were in perfect condition. But having lost his right arm to me, he was forced to fight with a disadvantage that inevitably created blind spots. A sharp sword-strike lunged right into his wide-open right flank.

"Ngh...!"

If he thrust his left fist to the right to counter, a strike would slam into him from the left in that opening.

"Gah...!"

No matter how many he killed, a fresh wave of newcomers arrived. This relentless lack of fear for death was the terrifying reality of the Niosebuk soldiers. As this cycle repeated, the Third Prince, now covered in blood, began to slow down. Finally, he took a decisive blow.

"GAH?!"

A soldier swinging a massive machete lopped off Gangastra’s left arm. Now armless, the Prince became a helpless prey, and the soldiers swarmed him. He looked like a grasshopper or a frog being covered by ants. A gruesome way to die.

"GWAHHHHH! I am! I am survival of the fittest! Survival of the fittest! Survival! Fittest!! Surviv...al... fit...?"

Four blades were driven into his back at once. They were immediately ripped out. Blood erupted from each wound, looking like a crimson fountain. He was slashed, stabbed, and beaten with blunt weapons until the vicious Prince who once boasted of being the strongest was unrecognizable.

"Survival of the fittest! Survival of the fittest! Surviv... al of the... fittest! Survival! Survival! Surviv-al-fitt-est...?! Survi... val... fitt...!!"

Perhaps he died a satisfied death. After all, according to the absolute law of survival of the fittest that he championed, he was able to end his life as the weakling being devoured by the many.

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