DXD: Table for one - Chapter 11

POV: Ri Boku

What in the World is with this City?

Seven days…

A City who shouldn’t have even lasted 2 Days, managed to hold up for Seven days.

No, it is not even in danger of falling.

They were running out of Soldiers to fight, even after having recieved reinforcement made up of 5000 Elites.

Civilian recruited Milita, no Elderly, Women and Children out lasting 45000 trained elites.

This shouldn’t have been possible?

Just what the hell is going on in that City?

First the abnormally high Morale every last Person in that City has, and it’s constantly rising with every day they crush our Men.

Then there is that Monster on the West Wall, whatever that Guy was he couldn’t be Human. Crushing every Soldier that reached the top of the Wall, ripping every Ladder they put on that Wall into Pieces, that’s just not what an Human should be able to do.

That Monster pretty much defended the Wall all by himself.

Most of the Troops that had been on the West Wall on the First day of the Siege were now supporting the other Walls, only a small symbolic force remained in case of an Emergency.

They themselves had pretty much given up on attacking that Wall, only continuing with a few symbolic attempts to keep that Monster on the West Wall.

Which was a major loss for them already. With the defenders having to worry about one Wall less, they had more troops availabale, which meant they were running out of them slower.

Not that they seem to be running out of Troops in the First place.

That’s the most confusing thing to Ri Boku during this Campaign, no all his Life. How is a untrained Milita consisting of Elderly, Women and Children able to outlast trained Soldiers including Elite Troops.

Sure, they were slowly loosing troops, but at an pace so slow he had never seen in an Elite Army. Even stranger is that it could be seen in their Fighting Performance, instead of slowly running out of Stamina during the day, they were constantly recovering and even healing.

Sai’s troops was circling their Troops between front and recovering at the back, and every Circle the troops that rested for a short while, had recovered by impossible amounts. Ri Boku had no idea what was going on. It’s as if the Gods were against them.

Even keeping them awake during the night had only a minimal effect on their Performance. In fact his own Troops were more affected by Sai’s counter tactic.

Which he neither had an explanation for.

Sai must have left some troops on the outside, ready to harrass them during the night. But no matter what their Night Shift guards were unable to find them. Even the Scouts he send out to locate them during the Day, didn’t find anything. No even traces.

And the means they were using were completely unknown to them.

Burning liquid on their Food Supplies, that when they tried to douse it with Water, it caused an even bigger Fireball harming the Soldiers around it.

He had been forced to distribute most of their Food to the Soldiers so it wouldn’t be at the same place.

But it didn’t Stop the Fire attacks, instead the Saboteurs began targetting their Tents while the Troops were resting in it, causing quite the deadly fire trap for anyone inside.

The Saboteurs did also something to their Water Supply, which they could only tell by the Bitter Taste in it, since it looked normal by just looking at it. And even if they tested their Water before drinking, there had to be a tasteless Version too, since many of their Soldiers ended up still Poisoned. Nothing lethal, but with major digestive Problems.

Probably the worst thing Ri Boku had ever seen, were the Ceramic Pots they threw into the middle of the Camps which upon shattering released dangerous greenish Smoke.

Anyone close to it, experiences strong irritations in mouth, nose and eyes for days, even worse if you breath in larger amounts it causes burning inside of the body often ending up in death.

No matter what they did, they couldn’t catch even a sign of the Saboteurs. His men were scarred out of his mind.

And now seven days later, of the worst battle he had ever overseen, one thing was obvious to Ri Boku.

They lost.

His Army had no longer enough troops to overcome the defense of Sai. Too many were out of Commission or fell to their Wounds. Not enough could keep up with the insande recovery rate of Sai’s Defenders.

The Coallition Army had failed.

Ri Boku was unwilling to accept it, but he had to be realistic. Retreat was the only Option left.

Out of the Corner of his Eye he noticed something glimmer at top a Hill to the West.

This is…

Could that be…

“WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!” Ri Boku shouted without hestiation as soon as his Brain had processed the Information, “ENEMIES SPOTTED ON THE WESTERN CLIFF! SEND AN EMERGENCY REPORT TO THE WHOLE ARMY!”

———

POV: ?

An army of nearly thirty thousand warriors stood atop the western hill, looking down at the battered remains of the coalition forces around Sai. Most were bare-chested under the warm afternoon sun, their skin marked with war paint and their bodies wrapped in leather straps or animal pelts more for style and tradition than protection from the weather. Each wore a carved wooden mask that hid their entire face—some shaped like snarling beasts, others with hollow eyes or jagged fangs meant to unsettle anyone who looked too long.

At the front sat a single figure on horseback, clearly set apart from the rest. Unlike her warriors, she wore long layered robes with fur trimming, the fabric moving easily in the breeze. Her mask was more elaborate than any other—long fangs, curling horns, and sharp lines that made her seem like a predator surveying its prey.

“Are we too late?” a masked warrior called from behind, his voice in the rough, clipped language of the mountains rather than the tongue of the lowlands.

“No,” another answered after scanning the battlefield. “The gates are still holding, and the defenders are still putting up a fight. Honestly… I’d say they could win without us.”

“Tch. Then there’d better be enough enemies left to make the trip worth it,” a third warrior grumbled. “We left our own lands and rushed all the way here.”

One man gave a short laugh. “Hah… the king really didn’t hold back with the pace.”

The woman at the front—the King of the Western Mountain Tribes—removed her mask in one smooth motion. Beneath it was a striking face framed by light red hair, her expression calm but sharp. Simple yet deliberate tattoos decorated her skin: a small parenthesis-like mark with a dot in the Center on her forehead, and a single dot beneath each eye.

She was Yo Tan Wa, the Lord of Death, ruler of the united mountain tribes. Her gaze slid toward the one who had dared to complain.

“What?” she asked, the single word making the man straighten immediately. No one in the mountain tribes stayed alive long by challenging Yo Tan Wa without cause. Her beauty drew eyes, but her rule was built on victories that left no doubt about her strength.

Her troops quickly began reporting in.

“The Genma Tribe is in position on the left flank!”

“Shinba Tribe ready on the right!”

She was about to signal the charge when something strange caught her eye. Near Sai’s walls, a dark figure dropped from the top.

Her right-hand man, Bajio, saw it too. “That wasn’t a fall… he jumped. Right into the middle of the coalition army.” His voice carried a rare note of disbelief. “Wait… he’s fighting them. Alone. And winning? What kind of man does that?”

Another warrior called out, “Should we move in before he gets himself killed?”

Yo Tan Wa’s eyes stayed on the lone fighter for a moment longer. Whoever he was, the act was reckless to the point of madness. And yet… it was working.

Her arm shot into the air.

“ALL TROOPS—IT’S TIME FOR A BLOODBATH!”

The hill seemed to erupt. Thirty thousand mountain riders surged forward, hooves pounding the ground like thunder. They swept down in a wave of speed and violence, wooden masks flashing between sunlight and shadow.

The coalition line barely had time to react. Even with Ri Boku’s orders cutting through the chaos, the enemy broke under the sudden, crushing impact. Warriors carved through soldiers as if the battlefield belonged to them alone, and the once-organized siege dissolved into slaughter.

———

POV: Merlin

“Now that’s more like it! This is what I imagined when I said I’d join a war!” Merlin laughed, his voice cutting through the chaos almost as sharply as his sword. Steel flashed in his hands as another soldier crumpled at his feet. He twisted to the side, letting a spear thrust pass harmlessly by, and ran his blade across the gut of the man who had thought he could sneak up from behind.

With his Nen awakened, the already sharp senses granted by his devil physiology had sharpened even further. Every shift in the air, every flicker of movement, every killing intent felt like a spark in his mind. Without specialized training or unique abilities, it would be nearly impossible for anyone to catch him off guard—especially in the middle of battle, when his focus was at its peak.

Was this a smart move?

No. Definitely not.

He had jumped from the top of the city wall straight into the battlefield below.

But from his perspective, there was a perfectly good reason. Well… “perfectly good” might depend on who you asked.

Merlin hadn’t come here just to back up the new customers at Menchi’s place or to earn a bit of coin—though both were nice bonuses. His main goal was to sharpen his combat skills and gain real battle experience.

Unfortunately, the siege had turned into a snoozefest for him. On the west wall, his strength had turned him into more of an immovable obstacle than an active fighter. Sure, he’d picked up some useful lessons in army leadership and battlefield tactics from Shou Bun Kun and Ten, and his bow work had improved a lot. But sword training? Almost nonexistent.

The sword was the one skill he had decided to focus on until he either figured out how to expand his demonic power reserves or until they naturally grew enough to support heavier magic use. His dream since waking up in this world had always been to become a top-tier magic caster—preferably the kind who could level a battlefield with a gesture. But… swordsmen did look cooler. And honestly, why not be both? It wasn’t like there was a rule against it.

Right now, Merlin was still at a level where trained human fighters could give him trouble—at least if they came at him in big groups. That wouldn’t last forever. Once his Nen got stronger, once he leveled up more, or just became stronger in general, a fight like this wouldn’t be worth anything. It would be too easy.

That was why he wanted to take advantage of it while he still could. Every swing, every block, every close call was a chance to sharpen his sword skills. He didn’t have a real style or formal training, but throwing himself into real battles was still the best way to learn the basics.

For him, practice dummies and drills couldn’t compare to the chaos of a real fight. Enemies in battle didn’t pull their punches. They tried to kill you. They used tricks, feints, and sudden attacks you couldn’t predict. Learning how to handle that was something no teacher could fully prepare him for.

As long as normal humans could still push him to his limits, he planned to keep fighting them. Maybe it was reckless—okay, definitely reckless—but it had a purpose. If he could polish his swordsmanship now, while fights still mattered, then when he faced stronger enemies later, he wouldn’t be relying only on power. He’d have at least some skill to back it up.

The problem was that barely anyone could even make it up the west wall to challenge him. So far, he had gained almost no real sword combat experience.

That changed the moment he spotted the riders appearing on the crest of the western hill. One look, and Merlin knew the war was decided. Whether by the end of the day or the end of the hour, the enemy didn’t have enough troops left to take Sai, let alone their actual target—the capital, Kanyou.

So he made a quick decision—right in the middle of the battle—and jumped. With his devil body’s natural toughness and the boost from Nen enhancement, the drop was nothing. He landed in the middle of the enemy ranks like he’d just hopped off a wagon.

Now he was here, carving through a few hundred men all on his own. It was one of those lone-warrior-against-an-army moments.

“Damn,” he thought between strikes, “I should’ve brought a camera. This would’ve killed on DevilTube. Bit of epic music under it, maybe slow motion in the good parts… easy money.”

———

POV: Argo

“Howdy, howdy! Argo the Rat’s in the house!”

The girl with the whisker-like markings pushed open the door and marched into Menchi’s Place. Her usual cheerful greeting echoed through the room, but the restaurant felt strangely quiet. Only a few chairs were left out, the tables spotless, and the faint smell of food still lingered in the air.

Behind the counter, Menchi was cleaning up the kitchen, which looked like it had just survived a small war of its own. Pans were stacked, pots were drying, and the counter was half-covered in a mountain of used dishes. She glanced up with a tired smile.

“Hey, Argo, welcome back! What can I bring you?”

“Nothing, I’m in a bit of a rush.” Argo leaned against the counter as she scanned the room. “The war’s still going on? I still can’t believe he actually let himself get dragged into a real battlefield with swords and spears…”

Menchi put down the rag she was using, her expression calm. “Really? I don’t find it that strange. From what I’ve gathered, Merlin’s world isn’t exactly peaceful. If anything, it’s a place where danger is just part of daily life. And even then, he refuses to abandon it completely.” She shrugged before reaching under the counter, filling a glass with Cola. “And yes, the war’s still going. From the last I heard, it’s in its final phase. The enemy should be retreating soon. Here—on the house.”

Argo accepted the drink and took a long sip, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Damn, refreshing as always. So he hasn’t shown up here today?”

“Not for a while,” Menchi answered while stacking clean plates. “It’s been days since I last saw him. These days it’s usually that strategist girl or the king himself picking up orders. Apparently, Merlin’s been spending his nights harassing the enemy. Keeps him too busy to stop by.” She gave a wry smile before adding, “At least I know where he is. Mikami and Satoru are the ones worrying me more.”

The mention of the two businessmen made Argo tilt her head. “Why? What happened to them?”

“That’s the problem—I don’t know.” Menchi’s voice carried a hint of frustration. “They haven’t been around for over three days. Normally, they’re here every day without fail. Sure, sometimes they’re late or miss a day, but they always tell me in advance. This time… nothing. Both of them disappearing at the same time feels wrong. I’ve half a mind to go looking for them myself.”

Argo raised an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you?”

“Think about it. Wouldn’t it seem strange if I suddenly went searching for customers? That’s all they are to me—customers who became familiar faces.” She shook her head with a sigh. “Besides, I don’t even know their exact addresses. Merlin’s the only one who’s visited them.” Menchi set the glass down firmly and changed the subject. “Anyway, what did you need? You said you were in a hurry.”

“Right!” Argo snapped her fingers as if remembering. “Can you pass a message to Merlin if you see him?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“We found the first-floor boss room.” Argo’s whisker-like markings twitched as her grin widened. “The guild plans to tackle it in exactly one week. We recruited a few more members—a friend of Kirito and his group, plus a couple of new faces. They don’t know about the restaurant yet, but we’ve got enough to form a proper raid party. Still, having Merlin along would make things a lot safer. Can you let him know?”

Menchi gave a small nod, her expression softening. “I’ll tell him.”