Lewd Dungeon Master: This Orc Is Too Damn OP!-Chapter 234: The Dungeon’s Advantage

Cavalry was a very troublesome enemy in war. Even during the Ras Vegas defense battle, the subjugation force’s cavalry was a really troublesome existence, and if I hadn’t anticipated them coming down the river, I would’ve been trampled by hooves in the city.

’They’d be the worst enemy meeting in open fields. Pale Riders.’

But cavalry was only appropriate in wide plains—in places like dungeons with narrow width and limited space, they were ambiguous beings to be active.

’Entering the dungeon was your losing move.’

In that sense, though Pale Riders might have good mobility, they were the worst strength for dungeon Seizure Battles. Individual strength might be qualitatively excellent, but as long as their essence was cavalry, tactical limitations were clear.

’They probably chomped through such limits with physical and level but it doesn’t work on me.’

To deal with cavalry, mobility had to be removed. And the best method to tie up the enemy’s feet was, as always, traps.

’Fortunate that big slimes remained.’

Lime’s slime squad that couldn’t synthesize into slime dragons and still remained as big slimes. They were providing vision to me as dungeon master from level 1’s ceiling, but they were still adequate strength having reached level 35.

So I scraped together all the slimes and dug out traps somehow.

’Dig pits and hide in the ceiling.’

Being amorphous seemed suitable for dealing with Pale Riders, but Pale Riders’ scythes could very easily cut slimes in two. If even Hases couldn’t withstand it, how much more so for slimes?

’I didn’t even think of slimes as combat strength from the start.’

Therefore, I devoted myself thoroughly to having slimes dig traps. Time-wise, it meant plastering traps all over the 2nd intercept room, but simply digging down was the end so no particular instructions were needed.

Scratch, scratch, scratch!

Slime pits were poked through the ground everywhere like sponges. And adventurers pondered and squeezed out wisdom thinking of methods to cover the pits.

"We could gather tree branches to cover them but is there time to collect?"

"No. We have to cover with clothes."

"Where do we get clothes? To cover with dirt needs to be as tough as brambles. When undead horses step on it, they need to fall into the pit too."

"If they don’t fall at the entrance but in the middle, it needs to be tough too. Like a bird trap, using some means to trigger the trap."

"Where can we get such a convenient thing right now?"

We had stockings.

"Shaitan! Go up and bring all the stockings! Even all the Andras feathers we were going to send to Ras Vegas!"

"Yes!"

Couldn’t we just cover the pits with stockings that were relatively black and wouldn’t show properly if covered with dirt? The crotch area tears easily, and it’s not something that doesn’t tear at all. Toughness and sturdiness passed, and there was sufficient area to cover slime pits.

’Then what about quantity?’

Even that wasn’t a problem. Fortunately, stockings overflowed to the point we had to sell malignant inventory at clearance prices to the human world. Plus we could procure them immediately without going far.

"Everyone take off stockings, execute!!"

Orcs and adventurers. Everyone took off the stockings they’d been wearing like armor and covered pits with one or two layers overlapped. If just left alone they’d sag and fall into the pit, so using Pale Rider bones, they made holes in stockings and drove them into the pit sides.

According to Lune, 30 minutes until the Pale Riders’ second charge.

The trap hastily made in those 30 minutes was unexpectedly not crude.

"If you don’t want to die, install as many traps as possible!"

"You, take off your stockings! Stockings get cut even wearing them anyway!"

"Spread out the crotch! If hooves step there, they’ll fall straight into the pit!"

Having directly witnessed the cutting power of Pale Riders’ swinging scythes, adventurers actively stepped forward to install traps, and with help from hunter-origin adventurers including Lily, they created quite plausible pit traps.

’As expected, Homo sapiens sapiens.’

Indeed, in handling tools, in squeezing out wisdom for victory against strong enemies, the pinnacle seemed to be humans over other species. Though Earth’s humanity and this place’s humanity were different species, anyway, using tools and utilizing wisdom was impressive.

Thus created pit traps.

What remained was implementing the gimmick of stockings tearing when enemies entered at the right timing, and the answer was simple.

"Slimes, listen well."

They were guys who saw and learned under Lime, the synonym for shoddy construction. Since everyone’s level was somewhat full, they were guys whose cunning turned excellently.

"When enemies come, spit on the enemy’s heads. Got it?"

The slimes immediately understood my meaning. Slimes hiding in the ceiling made other holes in the ceiling, and some adventurers and I hid in ceiling holes waiting for timing.

And the result afterward was perfect.

Crackle!

Mucus sprinkled everywhere began melting stockings, and Pale Riders with even slightly set feet on stocking covers whose structure weakened and began burning started missing their footing one by one.

"Let’s go!!"

I smashed through the ceiling hole and jumped down toward what looked like the leader among Pale Riders who fell into pits.

"So you’re the leader!"

Kyaaaaa!!

The one with the pointed helmet—Furcas—looked up at me then shrieked while hastily trying to swing the scythe. I didn’t like how he’d been squawking and seeming to exchange words with Lune.

"I’ll take that helmet off and give it to Hases!"

The distance between Furcas and me wasn’t very far but I couldn’t drop directly from above. So I had to close distance as much as possible to prevent scythe swinging.

Neeeeigh—!!

The undead horse pulled back its hind legs and swung front hooves. I saw the intention to obstruct my approach, activated the tattoo, and swung the axe hard.

"Hyaaah!"

Claaang!!

The undead horse’s hoof and axe blade clashed. Sparks flew brightly lighting the surroundings, and I saw the face under the helmet of Furcas mounted on the undead horse’s back.

"Whoa!"

Blue light flashed from the white skull under the black helmet. And mesmerized by that light, I was slightly late recovering the axe.

Shhhhhing!!

Furcas gripped the handle short and swung the scythe at close range. At the horizontal slash precisely trying to cut my neck in two, I hastily set up the axe blade.

"Kugh?!"

Faster than expected. Energy spread like death itself materialized, seeming about to blow away my neck. The scythe’s trajectory curving like moonlight was flying precisely toward my neck.

If it touches, I’m done. But it won’t reach my neck.

"Hmph!"

I rather stepped forward and closed distance. Invisible to Furcas, but Furcas’s undead horse currently had hind legs on a pit with two layers of stockings overlapped.

"Where to!"

I slightly spread my legs. And something flew quickly under my crotch.

Shhhhhing—!

The wind arrow Lune shot precisely made a hole in the stocking. A hole piercing the center, Furcas’s undead horse stepping on the stocking cover lost balance, and the scythe’s trajectory also wavered.

Kiiiiing!!

Furcas forcibly put strength in his hand to cut me. The blade’s trajectory left the neck but somehow adjusted course seeming to want to embed the scythe in my shoulder. Thanks to that, I could change posture for just a brief moment.

To an angle for punching up the scythe with my fist, I lowered posture and twisted my waist.

"Uooooh!"

Claaang!!

My fist bursting with red light struck the scythe’s underside. Though I couldn’t shatter the scythe like smashing swords, the scythe grazed barely over my head from my punch.

"Hahaha!"

When the attack missed, flustered color crossed Furcas’s blue light. I squeezed out remaining strength into the axe in one hand and swung high.

"No mercy!"

Slice!

My axe cut below the undead horse’s neck. The axe blade dug in easily 10cm, and blue, cold blood burst toward my whole body.

Fwoooosh—!!

"Urgh!"

The disgusting smell naturally vibrated through my body. If I felt even a beast’s blood scent I’d accept it, but only rotting corpse smell disgustingly pierced my nose. Feeling nauseous, I hastily pulled back.

Kiaaah!

Though the undead horse took damage, Furcas grabbed his neck and suffered as if he himself was hit. Yet showing signs of wanting to grip the scythe backward and swing, I threw the axe forward while scrambling back.

Clang—!!

The thrown axe clashed with the scythe and embedded in the ceiling. I rolled on the ground and threw off the robe soaked in rotten blood.

"Seriously disgusting bastard!!"

Unlike other Pale Riders, Furcas’s blood scent was unbearably disgusting. I spat out the bile rising from inside with saliva.

"Ptooey!"

My mouth was fishy and my stomach burned, but throwing the robe on the ground made it somewhat better. After 4-star evolution I’d gotten soaked in many bastards’ blood, but getting pickled in Furcas’s blood naturally made me hate wearing the robe.

"Laundry fee—no, new clothes money must be paid!"

Uwaaaagh!!

Suddenly Furcas’s undead horse began vomiting blood from its mouth. I thought blood flowing through blood vessels backflowed to the esophagus, then Furcas was covering the helmet’s eyes and pointing the scythe at me.

Kigagabbajagigaraa!!

"What’s this crazy bastard babbling?"

"He says he wants to gouge out his eyeballs because seeing Master like that is disgusting."

Lune, who ran up aiming a bow at Furcas, assisted me while interpreting Furcas’s screech. I was dumbfounded at Furcas’s reaction.

"What’s this?"

Kigigigi-fucking-kagagagak

"What?!"

Lune fired wind arrows furiously. Just as she sniped through my crotch to hit precisely the stocking cover’s dead center, Lune precisely sniped the undead horse’s hind hooves with two shots each.

Neeeeigh!!

Furcas’s undead horse vomited blood again as its lower body slipped into the pit. Though fairly deep, the undead horse’s bulk was also big so even sliding down with two legs, it caught at the thighs. Lune put away the bow and pointed at Furcas getting angry.

"He’s asking disgustingly where you fight exposing only your belly? This makes me angry too. Master’s belly is so plump and cute!"

"Lune, I definitely heard ’fucking’ just now?"

"Master, let’s kill that thing!"

"Of course, naturally. ...Wait."

Clank, clank.

Furcas jumped off the undead horse. Then stood on two feet holding the scythe as if to protect the undead horse.

"I see. One body and mind, is that it?"

The disgusting smell of burning corpses pierces the nose. I swept the entire battlefield briefly. Excluding Furcas, all eight Pale Riders’ undead horses had legs caught in pits unable to move, and the riders were all threatening adventurer subordinates while swinging scythes from undead horses’ backs.

"Kuhehe, Lune! And subordinates, listen well!"

I balled my fist and shouted vigorously.

"These bastards, when the horse dies the rider dies together! Aim for horses from range! Don’t approach carelessly and throw that into the pits!"

"Throwing unit, move!!"

As soon as Eila’s order fell, adventurers waiting in the final intercept room quickly appeared holding two wooden cups each. They moved sticking to cave walls and surrounded the Pale Riders in a circle.

"Vanguard retreat! Archers, commence suppressing fire until they escape the ’hell pit’!"

"Archers, concentrate on the horses! Then these bastards can’t move!"

When my additional orders accompanied Eila’s command, adventurers moved swiftly and accurately performing missions. Hases and melee warriors quickly left the front line, and archers shooting undead horses prevented Pale Riders from escaping position.

Crackle.

Throwing troops put embers into wooden cups. Heat instantly began filling the battlefield, and I lifted Lune up and raised my middle finger at Furcas.

"Waste is incinerated. Hehehe."

Bababang!

Even held by me, Lune checked Furcas while shooting wind arrows. Lune’s wind arrows stuck in Furcas’s back as he tried to pull the undead horse from the pit.

Thunk, thunk thunk!

Holes poked through the jet-black robe. But Furcas pulled out the undead horse and mounted its back. Other Pale Riders couldn’t escape in time.

Clop, clop!

Furcas turned his mount and ran toward the 1st intercept room—the portal direction they’d invaded from.

"Master! He’s trying to escape!"

"Kugh!"

Furcas fleeing in earnest was faster than my full-speed running with tattoo activated. Lune sniped but only got deflected by Furcas’s scythe.

"Can’t be helped! Missing one is regrettable, but still we can’t stop!"

"Except throwing troops, everyone move to final intercept room!!!"

Eila retreated with the adventurers. And throwing troops threw burning wooden cups—molotov cocktails—into the pits.

"Return to hell, turn undead!"

Through pits connected to the ground, countless pillars of fire shot up.