Damon appreciated the support from the eccentrics. Still, the odds weren’t in the favor of this particular caravan.
Seven hundred and thirty-eight orcs. That was a lot. Hell, it was too much.
However, their objective wasn’t to win—it was to survive. And for that reason.
Damon called a war council. Or a makeshift one.
It wasn’t much; Damon simply wanted to see what he was working with: their skills, abilities, and attributes, those with utility or direct combat applications.
An adventurer’s party usually consisted of seven people—that was the upper limit. The rchants had hired nine adventurer parties in total, making sixty-three adventurers.
It must have co at a hefty sum since these adventurers seed to be decently skilled and had so degree of fa in their locality.
Sixty three adventurers.
Excluding Damon, he wasn’t paid to be here; he had simply joined them by chance, or was it fate?
No, it was just a choice he had made which led off to this.
Still, one of them was missing.
He’d sent one to the nearby fort to lure out the knights and soldiers, but it would take ti for them to arrive.
The best course of action was to move the caravan in their direction. It wouldn’t be easy. The orcs would likely catch up. Still, it was their best chance—eting the knights halfway.
The eting was to gather information—assign roles—organize chaos into structure.
Damon stood in a tent, surrounded by adventurers and a few rchants. They were here to share opinions. To strategize for survival.
Unnoticed Singularity stared at the map they’d drawn, his fingers resting on his chin.
"We could try going through this hill, but climbing with these carriages and wagons? It’d slow us down. They’ll catch up for sure..."
Twilight nodded, hand on his blade.
"Maybe guerilla tactics—hit and run?"
Ilukras shook his head, his lantern glowing dimly in his hand.
"No good. They can’t catch us, but the civilians will die."
Aleph narrowed his eyes, his elf ears twitching.
"If only we had a way to move the carriages faster. If this were a train and the carriages were just carts, we could pull them all at the sa speed."
Dred’s silver hair shimred as his moth wings fluttered faintly.
"What if won’t help. And I can’t fly that many people out..."
The adventurers murmured among themselves, opinions flying like sparks. Damon listened in silence, flipping through sheets of paper—lists of attributes, classes, magical artifacts.
So far, everyone was useless. Except the eccentric party.
They were his best bet. Still not enough.
He glanced at Aleph Cantor.
"Your attribute is tal. Your class—Artificer. You’re basically an alchemist who molds anything."
Aleph nodded. "With enough mana. But so things are more complex."
Damon smiled faintly. "That’s a problem."
He turned to Wimpy, who was cleaning his magic guns.
"Your attribute is energy manipulation. Interesting..."
Wimpy blinked. "Um... yeah?"
He had a bad feeling about this.
Damon turned to the group, who were watching him with confusion. Where was he going with this?
"Aleph’s idea is genius. We can’t move all the carriages. But we can build a train."
Aleph tilted his head. "Huh? Co again?"
Damon didn’t flinch. "We’re building a train."
Aleph’s eyes widened. "I can’t build a train—not in this tifra. I don’t even have a blueprint. That’s insane."
Damon nodded.
Of course, a real train was a marvel of magic engineering. They couldn’t build that. But—
He had the Key of Lysithara.
And with it, archives of blueprints. All he needed was one.
He grabbed a pen, sketched quickly on parchnt.
"Make this."
"It’s not a train exactly. Just the tallic shell. A fra to connect all the carriages. The inside stays the sa. But outside—rigid, mobile, connected."
Dred narrowed his eyes.
"How will it move?"
Damon pointed outside.
"With horses. I’ll draw runes to lighten the weight. The horses go up front—inside the fra—pulling everything."
Unnoticed Singularity shook his head.
"Still too heavy."
Twilight agreed, voice low.
The others voiced doubt. Until Aleph—now holding the blueprint—spoke.
"Actually... it could work. The base has wheels. Manual pushers can help take the load off the horses. It might just work."
The people inside can manually push the wheels, and pulleys will make them turn.
Lena leaned over Aleph’s shoulder.
"I don’t understand any of this. But if there’s a chance—we try."
A rchant stepped forward, hands rubbing nervously.
"My lord... this sounds like a massive project. We can’t finish it in hours..."
Damon nodded. "We don’t have to. We just have to make it in ti."
He turned toward the map.
"We just need to delay the orcs."
"Hit and run tactics."
He glanced at Dred. The moth blinked.
"...? I can’t solo a warband! Co on—!"
Twilight smirked. "His death would be heroic."
Damon chuckled. "Glad you agree. You’ll be there to witness it."
Twilight blinked. "...Wait. too?"
Damon nodded. "You’re fast. Your weapons are assassin-type. Slow the orcs until nightfall. If they get past you—"
His eyes narrowed.
"They face the second wave. That includes ."
Wimpy burst out laughing, wiping tears.
"Haha! The edge lord and the pedo are gonna be orc food!"
Damon gave him a pitying look.
He had no idea what was coming.
"Ilukras. Your attribute is Balance. You can scale objects, right? I need you to reduce the weight of Aleph’s materials until they’re assembled."
Ilukras groaned.
"That’ll cost a ton of mana..."
Damon pulled out five recovery potions—clean glass, pristine labels.
"That won’t be enough."
He pointed at Wimpy.
"But don’t worry. He’ll be your mana battery."
Wimpy froze.
"Wait... huh?"
Damon smiled. "He’ll siphon ambient mana and feed it to you. When you run dry."
Wimpy’s hands trembled.
"W-Wait a sec—isn’t that insanely painful? Isn’t that ntally taxing?! Hey—hey! Are you a demon?!"
Damon ignored him.
"Everyone—assist Aleph. Let’s get it done."
He turned.
"Dismissed."
Wimpy shrieked. "WAIT! What about ?! I have guns! I can snipe—let fight orcs, co on—!"
Anything was better than being a mana battery.
it was too late.
Dred and Twilight dragged him away, ignoring his flailing.
His screams echoed through the caravan.
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