Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game

December 4, 8 p.m., Earth time.

In OtherWorld time, it was three in the afternoon.

Charlie Rex led a contingent composed mainly of 120 Sokri mercenaries, supplemented by a dozen Weisshem Town Hall staff, 200 security squad personnel, and several orc volunteers. On arriving at Indahl's west gate, he immediately received the first batch of "prisoners of war" delivered by the undead.

Facing this group of half-naked men who began crying and begging for mercy at the sight of living beings, Rex couldn't even muster an expression. He maintained a facade of calm as he took the prisoners in and, as usual, disseminated the territory prestige and copper coins desired by the undead as rewards; without such incentives, these undead could be quite terrifying.

"Have they already started the fighting?" a baffled Mercenary Captain Kenn asked while glancing at the thirteen sturdy lizard horses brought along with the prisoners.

Those half-naked men didn't look like ordinary folk (it's rare to see anyone so well-fed among commoners), but Kenn was skeptical that these bunch were proper soldiers… The lizard horses couldn't be faked; this special military-use breed, with monster blood in their veins, wasn't something ordinary like horned horses. They were clearly mounts that even middle-class families in the city could hardly afford.

Local guide Wagner stood silently for a while, watching Rex assign the undead with tasks to set up camp and sending the chattering bunch off before he spoke up hesitantly, "The city's defense force's smallest combat unit consists of 50 cavalrymen, and they cannot leave camp without orders."

"Of course, these guys couldn't possibly be from the city defense force," Kenn dismissed. "Private soldiers, then?"

It was common for nobles to maintain family knights and private soldiers that usually possessed a certain level of combat effectiveness.

However, most nobles, if lacking a strong family head or having enjoyed too long a period of peace, would see their private soldiers become the first to deteriorate—it was also why mercenary groups of the continent had so many noble patrons.

"Up until a hundred years ago, there were still remnants of marauders in Indahl territory. Although the quality of nobles' private soldiers has been declining, it shouldn't have deteriorated to this extent," said Wagner. "This bunch should be… noble scions."

Kenn was first stunned, then had a look of enlightenment.

Nobles typically belong to large families, with both main and side branches easily accounting for hundreds.

While fables often featured downtrodden protagonists unexpectedly winning the favor of a noble lady, who just so happened to lack heirs, propelling the protagonist to a high position and becoming the head of a noble house, such scenarios were unrealistic in reality.

Aside from the near impossible odds of a main branch having only a single daughter, even if the main branch truly had no one left, there would still be countless side branch descendants eagerly waiting in the wings.

In every noble house, there would be a number of young descendants with low succession rights. Born with silver spoons, they enjoyed the conveniences their family names bring, receiving better education than middle-class children and being only a step away from true power.

However, the journey to assume power was arduous, and most would actually have no chance to grasp real power. The reason being they weren't valued by the family like the main heirs. Besides a few that could win the favor of their elders, most of them did not receive much support from the family resources.

Once someone from their generation with a higher succession right inherited the noble title, these scions lost the little special treatment they had as "reserves." And once the old patriarch in the family passed away, they were branched out, becoming a lineage within a branch, living in the shadow of the main branch for the rest of their lives.

Mercenary Captain Kenn, who had often been employed by nobility over the many years, had seen many such people; ones seemingly eager to squander a lifetime of whimsy while still having the privilege of succession order leading a dissolute life.

"…I see. No wonder they could ride lizard horses, and no wonder they fell into the hands of the undead," Kenn said in understanding.

The Taranthan undead might be anxiety-inducing, but one thing was certain: they didn't attack civilians maliciously. During the months Kenn and his mercenaries were forced to serve as instructor NPCs in Exile Town, they never saw the undead trouble the women doing odd jobs.

"Who cares what they are; being captured by the undead makes them prisoners," Rex said nonchalantly, then called over a security squad personnel to take the young masters away.

Kenn seemed taken aback.

"I'll go settle those horses." Wagner nodded at Rex and Kenn and walked away on his own.

Kenn: "??"

"We need to set up a bigger prisoner camp…" Rex muttered, looking around and walking toward the security squad personnel that were setting things up.

Kenn stood bewildered, watching the two leave.

Y-you guys… have no reaction after taking captives from noble families?

Captain Kenn, who didn't know about the time a count's nephew had to clean sewers in Weisshem, was utterly perplexed.

The news of Weisshem's early arrival and openly setting up camp outside the west city gate quickly reached the ears of the city lord and the Bartalises.

"How audacious!"

Adra III was initially furious, then quickly ordered his steward, Gould, to transport the last batch of goods out of the city through the north gate.

Only after securing his family's interests did Adra III care to gather the city's nobility to discuss the enemy situation.

Typically, wars over territory between nobles rarely reach a city's gates; in most cases, both parties agreed on a battlefield at the border of their territories, deployed their troops for battle, where the winner took all, and the loser ceded land and paid reparations.

During territorial wars, both sides wouldn't massacre civilians of the enemy's territory or burn down villages. Land and people were assets, after all; the loser would have to milk the commoners to prepare for reparations, while the winner, on gaining new territory, automatically became the master of the land and its people.

Therefore, there was no reason to destroy one's own assets.

While scorched earth policies weren't employed, nobles did not hesitate to conscript civilians from their own territories and often quite generously send these farmers that had only put down their hoes to the frontlines as cannon fodder.

Losing a large number of lower-class men wasn't a big issue, and as long as the women were still there, new civilians could quickly be added.

However, this time the situation was different…

First, Weisshem was already within the Indahl's territory and no boundary line existed between the two, which allowed both sides to continuously dispatch troops at any time. Charlie Rex deliberately hadn't allowed time for conscripting civilians; he had declared war and brought his forces over in just three days—even if Adra III wasn't in a rush to transfer assets and dispatched his men to conscript civilians upon receiving the declaration later, it was still unrealistic to conscript a large number of commoners within such a short time span given the mobilization capabilities in this world.

Secondly, Weisshem's main force consisted of undead that didn't require supplies. The Bartalises, even with their riches, couldn't employ a strategy of exhausting the opponents logistics and supplies…

Even if Adra III could display to the local nobles that he "held a big advantage in battle and simply attacking would bring victory," no head of any noble family would be foolish enough to be swayed. Everyone was clear that the Bartalis family was bound to lose this round, and Indahl would see a new master in a few days' time.

Despite this, the local nobles did not shirk their responsibilities, contributing the private soldiers they had just recalled to the city, forming a makeshift army of four thousand. It certainly wasn't as combat-effective as the regularly trained city defense force, but definitely stronger than auxiliary troops made up of conscripted civilians.

While those within the city gates busily prepared for battle, outside, Yang Qiu started to issue battlefield preparatory quests to online players as soon as the temporary teleportation (summoning) array was completed.

Battlefield preparatory quests weren't the official start of the battle. Among players online, those in teams hunting monsters or camping solo spots merely glanced at their panels and continued with their own activities. However, there were also many idle or unaffiliated players that teleported over.

The Weisshem camp, set up on the empty ground west of the mule and horse market, came alive with exclamations of delight.

"Whoa… Sick city walls!"

"The battlefield setting this time around is awesome!"

"Are those city walls real models or just textures? Can we climb up there for screenshots?"

"I don't know. Wanna go check it out?"

A group of players, seeing a big city (city walls) for the first time, curiously looked all around. Some of them noticed NPCs with helmets peeping out from the city walls and jumped up excitedly while waving. "Hey! Over here! Look his way!"

The city guards nervously shrank back.

"Those aren't textures; they're real city walls!" Besides a minority who remembered the battlefield preparatory quests and honestly started doing various camp chores, most players instantly forgot they were teleported here for a quest and cheerfully rushed toward the city walls. Some were poking around the city gate, which had a unique "fantasy movie" vibe, while others even tried to climb the smooth outer walls of the city… unsuccessfully.

In the camp, Wagner and Kenn, waiting to give out quests, watched the commotion with wooden faces.

It's fine… Once they realize there's nothing else to do besides "missions," they'll come back obediently.

"Hey! There are people over here! Live NPCs! And a new scene!"

A player who discovered something new ran back quickly, shouting excitedly to the player contingent.

The bunch of skeletons around the city gates instantly flocked over…

Wagner and Kenn watched the undead rushing to the other side, then simultaneously turned back to Yang Qiu in the tent, who was as cool as a cucumber.

"They'll return once they get sick of it," Yang Qiu waved it off nonchalantly.

Wagner wanted to mention that the area was a complicated slum… but then, when he thought about the undead's roach-like, infinitely resurrecting vitality, he wisely shut his mouth.

Johan, a resident of the slum, hadn't found any odd jobs in the city for the past two days.

Having learned from those who called themselves the "mobile mill" that they would stay there for at least a week, the resourceful John and his friends borrowed two flatbed carts and started a business grinding grain for others. They went to the worker's residential area in the North City District to find families of workers who were busy during the day and couldn't come to the mill themselves. They would bring wheat and corn out of the city to be ground and then deliver it back, earning a delivery fee.

Today, before dawn, John had woken his friends up, dragging the flatbed carts into the city to collect wheat and corn for milling. By the time they had filled two carts and pulled them out of the city, it was already past three in the afternoon.

"Good thing we heard the news that the west city gate was closed at noon and didn't go that way. We would have had to take a big detour otherwise."

As the few youngsters pulled the carts loaded with various bags through the narrow alleys of the slum, Johan glanced at the sky and said with relief to his companions, "If we can't deliver the milled flour before it gets dark, we'll have a hard time getting business tomorrow."

"Yeah, and if we can't get out of the city in time, we might have to stay overnight, and it gets very cold at night," said Tommy, who had taken leave from the workshop to earn some extra money.

They definitely wouldn't want to spend money on an inn stay. If they couldn't leave the city in time, they'd have to spend the night on the street.

They could earn one copper coin for transporting five kilograms of floor, and the several hundred kilograms on the two carts could make them a few hundred copper coins. This monetary enticement gave the four young men strength. Even though they hadn't eaten much all day, they pulled the carts quickly.

As they struggled to pull the carts out of the alley… Johan and his friend Tommy, who were leading, simultaneously stopped in their tracks.

The west square in the slums they were all familiar with was full of… undead!

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