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    The relentless attacks of the undead.

    Whenever things seemed quiet, they would invade and launch their assaults.

    The remaining members of the Third Division alone were insufficient to fend them off.@@@@

    That was why Noirtein’s return, after reporting to the royal capital, was desperately needed.

    The same went for reinforcements.

    However, the atmosphere in the royal capital was not one where reinforcements could easily be dispatched.

    All the division commanders of the assassination unit had been urgently summoned to the royal capital.

    And overseeing them, glaring down with a deeply furrowed brow, was the absolute ruler of Basilica—the king—who flicked his tongue in displeasure, making his dissatisfaction blatantly clear.

    And so, no one in the hall dared to make a sound.

    Tension hung in the air, drawn tight like a bowstring.

    Then, with a slight tilt of his head, the king gestured for someone to speak.

    At the end of his gaze, Noirtein bowed his head.

    Summoned directly.

    “......Yes. Currently, a vast army of undead is swarming the fortress walls and attacking. While our division has been defending the walls, we do not have sufficient numbers to hold them back. I believe reinforcements are necessary.”

    Noirtein’s report omitted one crucial detail—that they had pulled back their forces upon arrival.

    Unfortunately, the only ones aware of that fact in this room were Noirtein and Shivren.

    No one else knew.

    “Undead.”

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