Chapter 12: Shredding the Snail Bride (1)
“Glory to the great First Star Lord, Sartul. I bring a report from the reconnaissance ghosts dispatched to the Demon Lord’s Castle.”
“……”
A dimly lit room.
A throne covered in black skulls.
Above it loomed a shadow without form.
But it was no ordinary shadow. Within its flickering mass, a pair of narrow eyes opened slightly. And they looked down at the adjutant who had just bowed before them.
“……”
Sartul, the First Star Lord of the Demon Lord’s forces, cloaked in shadows, began to think.
Right.
The Demon Lord’s Castle, Chavín de Huántar.
He had sent reconnaissance ghosts there.
To grasp the movements of Demon Lord Credos. To discern the reason behind his sudden halt of the Human Realm invasion, which had been right on the brink of execution.
Meanwhile, the adjutant continued the report.
“First, Demon Lord Credos has truly ceased all activities related to the expedition. Furthermore, he suppressed the remaining of the Four Great Demon Generals who opposed his decision, and among them, Asurat—who stood in the fiercest opposition—was made an example of by being tied to a stake.”
“……”
A punishment.
Poor Asurat.
Given Credos’ cruel nature, he would not easily forgive Asurat. Perhaps Asurat would only be released from that stake as a corpse.
But Sartul didn’t mind.
No—in fact, he welcomed it.
The spread of death across the Abandoned Land was a fine thing. It would only increase the number of the dead. And the wandering dead would eventually be absorbed into his own legion.
Feeling a sense of satisfaction, the First Star Lord listened to the next part of the report.
“Furthermore, it has been reported that Credos, along with the remaining Four Great Demon Generals and several demons, has been diligently creating and piling something called ‘compost,’ and researching ways to safely consume a poisonous plant known as the potato.”
“…What?”
What kind of nonsense was that?
Compost?
Safely eating potatoes?
Sartul doubted his own ears.
“Is that true?”
“Yes, my lord. Multiple reconnaissance ghosts witnessed it.”
“…Continue.”
“Yes. Also, recently, low-ranking demons under Credos’ orders have been seen gathering wild potato varieties without exception. This is clearly…”
“They intend to cultivate them.”
Just as Credos himself had declared.
To genuinely attempt something called farming.
“…And then?”
“In the most recent surveillance, it was observed that a significant amount of potatoes had already been gathered at the Demon Lord’s Castle. And there was a report that Credos had begun preparations to create what he called a ‘field’ to plant the potatoes. That is all.”
“Hm.”
The First Star Lord, Sartul, felt troubled.
‘Who would’ve thought Credos’ attempt would actually start showing progress.’
Suddenly, a memory from not long ago came to mind.
The invasion of the Human Realm.
It was around the time he had been performing the final inspection of the First Star Legion under his command, in preparation to join the main force of the Demon Lord’s army for that grand endeavor.
Then, out of nowhere, an urgent report had arrived.
The invasion of the Human Realm had been halted.
No—completely canceled.
It claimed that Demon Lord Credos had made some bizarre proclamation.
‘…Farming, of all things.’
Even now, it still sounded absurd.
Credos’ declaration that he would take up farming had been hard to believe at the time. It felt like a mere excuse. That when the moment of the invasion had finally arrived, Credos had lost his nerve. And so, he had made up some ridiculous excuse about farming to cover it up.
And back then, he himself had…
‘Part of me was relieved.’
That was his honest feeling.
He hadn’t been too fond of invading the Human Realm in the first place. But since he couldn’t openly defy the will of the Demon Lord, he had still been preparing to join the invasion force.
Then came the cancellation.
Of course he had welcomed the news.
‘The more demons collapse and die on this Abandoned Land… the more death spreads and the number of the dead increases… the stronger my legion alone will become.’
Sartul’s gaze narrowed.
His entire legion was composed of the dead.
Some were left with only their souls.
Others, with only their bodies.
Stripped of the blessings of reincarnation, they served endlessly.
That was the defining nature of his legion.
Which was why…
He had severed the flow of information between the Demon Lord’s Castle and the other Star Lords. He had taken advantage of the geographic nature of his territory, which rose like a barrier around the highland domain directly under the Demon Lord’s Castle—either guarding it or encircling it.
“……”
Thanks to that, the Second, Third, and Fourth Star Lords likely still had no idea about the Demon Lord’s decision to halt the Human Realm invasion, or his declaration of farming.
And it should stay that way.
This situation needed to last as long as possible.
So that the cowardly Credos would remain hesitant to invade. So that the other Star Lords, kept in the dark, would continue wasting time in uncertainty.
If that happened…
‘All the more demons will starve to death in the meantime.’
From the main force of the Demon Lord’s army, from the legions of the other Star Lords, demons dying of starvation would begin to appear in droves. The souls of those dead demons would become wandering wraiths across this Abandoned Land.
And at that moment, all he had to do was summon those wraiths.
Because that was his specialty.
Incorporating wraiths into his own legion. That would only make his forces grow stronger.
And one day, that momentum would surpass even the Demon Lord’s main army. He would be able to once again set his sights on the Demon Lord’s throne—a throne he had long ago given up on.
He had believed that with certainty.
He had been confident it was possible.
But then…
‘Who would’ve thought Credos’ farming declaration wasn’t just bluster.’
This was truly a situation he hadn’t foreseen.
He had written it off as nothing more than an excuse.
He never imagined Credos would actually go through with it. Let alone start to see results.
The First Star Lord, Sartul, felt a sense of unease he had never known before.
‘This can’t be allowed to continue.’
If Credos’ farming succeeded, everything would fall apart. His own plan would collapse. That was unacceptable. Not after coming this far—he had to see it through to the end.
“…From now on, listen carefully and carry this out.”
After long deliberation.
Sartul’s eyes turned toward his adjutant. And from his lips, he issued a lethal command—to sabotage the Demon Lord’s potato farming.
Shortly after, the adjutant who had received the First Star Lord’s order departed with his subordinates, heading toward the northwest region of the Abandoned Land.
Toward the Demon Lord’s Castle. And the potato fields.
♣
Truth be told, the Abandoned Land stretched out toward the northwest in the shape of, frankly, a massive cotton swab head.
Try as one might to deny it, that was the truth.
It was just an undeniable fact.
Even a glance at a map would confirm it.
“…But still, why haven’t the other Star Lords replied?”
“I’m not sure myself, sir.”
“The messengers definitely set out properly, right?”
“That’s certain.”
“Then something’s wrong. Tch.”
Kim Jangcheol clicked his tongue with a bitter taste in his mouth.
And understandably so.
Just a short while ago, after successfully producing the first batch of chuño and wrapping up what could only be called a tasting event(?), he had sent messengers to the other Star Lords of the Abandoned Land with news from the Demon Lord’s Castle.
Along with his official decree.
‘Told them there’s food here. Told them to send plenty of folks to collect some chuño.'
It had been for the sake of the demons living in the regions governed by the other Star Lords.
“Tch. This is bad. Real bad. Why aren’t they replying?”
“Are you worried?” asked Zephyros.
“Of course I am.”
At Zephyros’s question, Kim Jangcheol snorted loudly through his nose.
“Since the Human Realm invasion was suddenly halted, everyone must’ve been thrown into confusion. Their food reserves are probably starting to run low too.”
“That’s likely the case.”
“Exactly. That’s why we need to make some chuño here and send it to them.”
“You mean it’s food to help them hold out until we finish farming and have our first harvest?”
“Right. That’s exactly it.”
As expected, Zephyros was sharp and quick to catch on.
Kim Jangcheol nodded with satisfaction.
“Everyone must be disgruntled that the much-anticipated invasion got called off. And now they’re probably starving. But there’s nothing to eat. That’s when discontent starts to boil over.”
“But is there really a need to go through the trouble of sending chuño we made here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why not just share the method of making chuño with each region?”
“No. That’s impossible.”
“Why not?”
“Because the other regions don’t have the right conditions to make chuño.”
It was the truth.
Chuño could only be made in places like the Demon Lord’s Castle or the Andes Highlands, where there were extreme day-night temperature swings and a dry climate.
In the other regions of the Abandoned Land? Impossible. The climate was different. It would likely be hard to find even wild potato varieties.
“Haa. But still, why aren’t any replies coming in…”
Kim Jangcheol looked southeast. Suddenly, the map of the Abandoned Land—something he’d seen countless times while playing the game—flashed through his mind.
A massive cotton swab head stretching to the northwest.
At the tip of that swab in the northwestern highlands was the Demon Lord’s Castle.
On the other hand, what was to the southeast of the castle?
A sheer cliff completely surrounding the Demon Lord’s Castle. There was no way to reach other regions of the Abandoned Land without crossing that cliff.
An incredibly treacherous cliff region.
The Cliffs of the Dead.
That was the domain of the First Star Lord—the Lord of the Dead, Sartul.
‘Tch. Could that bastard Sartul have cut off all my messengers?’
For a moment, a twinge of suspicion crossed his mind.
But he soon shook his head.
‘No. If I just wait a few more days, I’m sure the replies will come.’
For now, he’d wait and see.
There was something more urgent at the moment anyway.
‘We’ve just finished gathering all the potatoes.’
It was thanks to the successful chuño tasting.
Most of the low-ranking demons of the Demon Lord’s domain had mobilized voluntarily. Everyone had been dead set on collecting wild potatoes. Then they carried them back in droves to the Demon Lord’s Castle.
As a result, the castle’s storage was now piled high with mountains of wild seed potatoes, ready for planting.
“…Which means we’ve got a mountain of work ahead of us.”
“Sorry?”
“I’m saying—we’ve already got compost fermented and ready. We’ve secured seed potatoes to plant. So you know what that means.”
“Can’t we just… plant the potatoes?”
“Of course not, come on.”
A bitter smile crept onto Kim Jangcheol’s lips.
“You think farming’s a joke? Why do you think we made compost? We’ve got to spread all of that. And is it done once we spread it? No, it’s not. We’ve got to mix it into the soil. And does the soil mix itself? Obviously not. We have to till the entire field with brute force. But do we have farming equipment? Do we have oxen? Then who’s going to spread the compost and plow the land?”
“…We all have to do it ourselves?”
“Exactly. But the low-ranking demons? Just look at their condition—they’re hopeless. They’re all starving and completely drained. If we put them on plowing duty, we’ll be hauling away corpses by noon. Am I wrong?”
“Hm, yes… They’re definitely in a weakened state.”
“Right? So this is a big problem. We’re way too short on manpower.”
It was true.
Everyone was frail, and there weren’t enough hands. But the field was absurdly large. Honestly, it felt like an impossible task.
‘And we’re pressed for time on top of it.’
Kim Jangcheol frowned.
This was a race against time.
The demons of the Abandoned Land wouldn’t wait around forever for the first harvest. They were all starving.
‘If only we had a few cultivators, we could plow the fields in no time.’
It was frustrating.
But there was no helping it.
“Well, guess we’ve got no choice but to do it ourselves. We’ll get the Four Great Demon Generals involved too. If it comes down to it, even you.”
“…Me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because if I say dig, you dig?”
“…You said that with an expression of violence and injustice…”
“Can you not write stuff down only when it makes me sound bad…”
“Apologies. It’s part of my official duties.”
“Tch. Sounds like an excuse.”
“You responded with a suspicious glare…”
“……”
Haa.
No point arguing.
Might as well think harder about where to invest the Happy Points he earned a few days ago.
‘…Though realistically, Health is probably the best option.’
They’d need a ton of stamina to till the fields from here on. And the area to be plowed was immense.
He was probably going to collapse from exhaustion.
“……”
Jeez.
When were they going to finish spreading all that compost across this massive field?
And when would they ever finish digging and tilling the soil?
The more he thought about it, the more overwhelming it felt.
But there was no avoiding it.
Work had to be done.
‘…Then for now, maybe I should call it a day.’
Starting tomorrow, he’d be sweating buckets. Saving his strength now would be important too.
Resolute in his own way, Kim Jangcheol returned to the Demon Lord’s Castle with Zephyros in tow.
And shortly after—
…Srrrk.
Through the fading glow of sunset, shadows of ill omen began to emerge across the potato fields.
It was the First Star Lord Sartul’s adjutant, Pikamir, along with his subordinates.
“……”
Pikamir scanned his surroundings.
A colossal heap of compost came into view, piled high on one side. Beyond that stretched a vast expanse of land, clearly prepared for use as fields.
The moment he saw it, Pikamir recalled the command given by his liege, the First Star Lord.
‘He ordered me to ruin everything Credos has prepared.’
Then, his task was crystal clear.
Everything Credos had prepared.
The massive stockpile of compost.
And the land meant to be used for farming.
To ruin both at once?
“Everyone, listen well.”
He whispered wickedly to his subordinates.
“From this moment on, we will destroy this place. The time allotted to us is a single night—until sunrise.”
“…Then what exactly are we to do?”
A subordinate asked.
Pikamir gave the order.
“Scatter that so-called compost they worked so hard to make—spread it so wide and thin they’ll never be able to use it. And the field they’ve prepared… dig it all up and completely, thoroughly tear it apart.”
A wicked grin deepened on Pikamir’s lips.