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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Ruby
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The war had not only started for the main force.
The sounds of weapons clashing echoed from all directions.
The Imperial soldiers on the fortress drew their bows and cast spells to repel the barbarian soldiers of Pineon trying to scale the walls.
A Pineon warrior hurled a chain.
Sshhhhk!
Like a living snake, the chain ensnared an Imperial soldier and yanked him to the ground.
Crack—
The soldier’s head shattered like a watermelon. His skull was crushed, and blood splattered everywhere.
Screams echoed across the battlefield. People died endlessly.
The Pineon archers moving along the ridges of the mountains showed no hesitation.
The giant wolf, Fenris, was cunning.
It knew how to muffle its footsteps at crucial moments.
“Enemy!”
A ranger guarding the Imperial ridge shouted with his mouth wide open.
Thwack!!
That cry became his last gasp.
An iron arrow, maximizing the strong muscles and bones of the barbarian warriors, pierced his temple.
Hector, the second-in-command of Pineon, spoke quietly.
“Kill them all.”
“Ugh!”
He tore through the heart of an Imperial soldier in front of him with a spear imbued with aura.
Blood splattered onto the grass.
Everything was turning against Marquis Tornell and the Imperial army.
The giant axe in Tornell’s hand was shrouded in blue aura.
“Uraaaaagh!”
Whether it was a scream or a battle cry was indistinguishable as the axe descended vertically on a heavily armored warrior charging at him.
Slaaaash!!
The warrior was split in half, armor and all.
The once-living soldier fell to the ground as a lifeless hunk of meat.
Tornell stared at his axe embedded in the ground for a moment, then raised his head to take in the enemies before him.
His grip on the axe was stained with sweat and blood.
Rumble…
The rain had not stopped.
As if a hole had opened in the sky, rain continued to pour in the darkness.
The battlefield grew soggy.
The rain made everything heavy.
The smell of blood filled his nostrils.
Marquis Tornell stepped on the bodies of his subordinates as he retreated.
The sense of defeat weighed heavily on his mind.
He had already lost over three hundred soldiers.
Many of the knights he had cherished were dead.
Snap!
Tornell snapped the neck of a barbarian soldier from Pineon with his large hands and tossed him aside.
In the distance, he saw thousands of enemies still in formation.
“Marquis Tornell.”
Among them, hundreds of fierce beasts drooled.
The giant wolf Fenris, larger than a lion, had teal eyes that gleamed with intimidation.
It gave the impression that it could rip them apart at any moment, even in the darkness.
Conqueror King Kamet looked over the thirty or so dead Fenris and his hundred fallen warriors.
His gaze held neither anger nor pity, only determination.
This time, he resolved to conquer a nation very slowly and skillfully.
If he succeeded in conquering the Astes Empire—
No, if he at least conquered the southern guardian, the Tornell Marquisate, the deaths of his subordinates and Fenris would be avenged.
His 30,000-strong force had been brought to achieve this goal.
The first day of the war had gone very well.
In every location where weapons clashed, the barbarians had won.
At least for today, the barbarians had claimed a decisive victory.
“Let’s withdraw here for today. We still have plenty of time.”
Wouldn’t it be wise to press the advantage when you have the upper hand?
It was a reasonable thought, but his forces had also suffered losses.
Kamet, the lion-maned Conqueror King, looked at the middle-aged man, Tornell, who was glaring at him.
He was worthy of the title “Tornell the Destroyer.”
The corpses at his feet were his doing.
Despite the significant losses, the fierce spirit in his eyes remained unbroken.
The southern guardian of the Empire, Tornell, spoke slowly.
“You’ll regret touching the Astes Empire.”
Kamet’s lips curled into a grin.
“That’s the spirit. It’s more satisfying to crush someone who fights back. Get ready, clean your neck, and wait.”
At the barbaric words, Tornell’s face twisted in rage.
“Get lost.”
Kamet chuckled.
“Retreat, warriors.”
At Kamet’s command, the 2,000 warriors in the front line slowly stepped back.
“The famous Imperial knights’ swords are pretty weak! I wonder if they can perform well at night!”
“Hahahahaha!”
The noise was loud enough to shake the night.
Finally, the knights of Marquis Tornell approached him.
“How many have died?”
“Altogether, nearly six hundred, sir.”
“…Damn.”
Tornell stumbled at the news.
The mental agony was far greater than physical fatigue.
The terrible night finally began to end when the Pineon warriors disappeared from sight.
The sun began to rise.
Having faced life and death over fifty times, Tornell had never seen the sun look so red, nor had it felt so hot.
It was a complete defeat.
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Soldiers collected the scattered bodies.
“Mother of the Sun, we believe this trial is to sharpen our blades. Grant us the power to call upon the light. Mother of the Sun.”
“I don’t want to die. Shine your light upon this sword….”
The sobbing cries of comrades.
The knights muttering prayers to dispel fear. Soldiers clumsily repeating after them.
To Marquis Tornell, all these sounds felt like the wails of spirits.
They were twisted and ominous, making him want to tear his ears off.
It felt like drowning in the swamp’s mud, with no way out.
Only the sense of responsibility kept him going.
The duty to defend the Empire’s southern front.
The urgent report received at dawn was his only hope.
The message said that elite reinforcements had arrived, urging them to hold out a bit longer.
“It seems they won’t attack tonight. They’ll likely advance at dawn.”
This was the voice of Loxiwood, the aged but wise chief strategist of the Tornell family.
“Stay strong, sir.”
Tornell nodded slowly.
The old strategist’s words were never wrong.
They spent all their time reorganizing the front lines, making the day fly by.
The sun rose again.
Rumble!
The sound of giant wolves, Fenris, stomping without hesitation echoed.
As predicted by the strategist, the Barbarian Nation of Pineon had begun their advance at dawn.
The war had resumed.
The main forces were once again on edge.
In Tornell’s view, he saw the lion-headed man, Conqueror King Kamet, observing his troops from afar.
It was a situation where it wouldn’t be strange for either side to draw their weapons and start attacking.
As Tornell was on high alert, a knight hurriedly approached him.
“Marquis!”
“What is it?”
The knight spoke quickly, not even pausing to catch his breath.
“Reinforcements claiming to support us have arrived outside the fortress. They have already begun fighting the Pineon warriors.”
Tornell frowned.
“Are they the elite forces sent by the Empire?”
The knight shook his head.
“No, they introduced themselves as the Revolutionary Group.”
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The southern wall of the front line.
A red flag fluttered.
A crimson flag with a golden circle and a golden sword vertically rising from the circle.
Cassiela, leader of the Dawn Revolutionary Group, waved her fiery red hair.
She had met the Emperor’s sword, Yuma, on the magic train to Akan City.
The revolutionary leader was convinced that Yuma was an old friend of her mother.
“We follow the same cause as the martial god Yuma! We don’t need a mere facade of a revolution! For the glory of the Empire! Draw your swords!!”
Shing!
Shing!
Seventy-two members of the Revolutionary Group simultaneously drew their weapons.
“For the glory of the Empire—!”
Each one of them was a strong warrior who had imbued their weapons with their own energy.
They fought to rid the Empire of its corruption.
Cassiela’s blue aura split the shoulder of a barbarian warrior.
Without hesitation, she sheathed her sword and leapt towards another warrior.
Starting at the southern wall, the tide of the battle began to shift.
The eastern mountain ridge of the front line was already blocked by Pineon warriors.
“Chase them to the end!”
Two Imperial soldiers and a knight fled desperately, pursued by Pineon warriors.
They reached the edge of the ridge but had to stop.
It was a cliff.
Pebbles dislodged by their feet tumbled over the edge.
Forty-two Pineon warriors surrounded the soldiers, who gritted their teeth.
‘If I use my energy, I might survive.’
‘But I’ll probably break something. Then these guys will kill me.’
Desperately thinking of a way to survive, they suddenly heard a voice from below.
“Are you Imperial soldiers?”
A man appeared at the bottom of the cliff, flanked by two robed figures.
He wore what looked like a black coat, with a golden epaulet on his right shoulder.
“This is the Grand Marshal of this battlefield. Identify yourselves.”
One of the soldiers at the cliff’s edge shouted with all his might.
“We are Imperial soldiers!”
The Pineon warriors surrounding them turned to look at the Grand Marshal, Yuma, standing below.
“Grand Marshal? Does the Empire’s Grand Marshal only have two subordinates? Ridiculous.”
Clid, the third-in-command of Pineon, with blue hair, raised his sword.
“If you’re the Grand Marshal, block this strike.”
Despite his sly tone, his sword gleamed with golden aura.
The brilliant golden sword energy.
Clid stepped forward and swung his sword.
Slaaash!
It was a space-cutting slash, a highly concentrated sword strike.
The golden slash streaked toward Yuma like lightning.
Yuma drew his dagger, [Tooth of the Black Dragon Bernac].
Clang!
The blade of his dagger perfectly intercepted the center point of the spatial slash.
The golden impact, indicating a successful parry, blossomed like a full moon.
Slaaash!
The spatial slash reversed its direction.
But there was more.
The moment the spatial slash touched the end of [Tooth of the Black Dragon Bernac], two more slashes emerged on either side of the original.
Absolute Counter—Divide
Absolute Counter—Divide: Counter. Functions the same as
Upon parrying, the original target and up to two additional enemies will receive the same attack power [Absolute Counter].
The original target was Clid, the third-in-command of Pineon.
The other two targets were chosen among the forty-two Pineon warriors at the ends of the formation.
Slaaash!
Boom!
Three spatial slashes shot toward the Pineon warriors.
Just because the skill targeted three didn’t mean only three would be hit.
Clid’s powerful
A massive explosion erupted. Dust and debris clouded the view of the three Imperial soldiers at the cliff’s edge.
“What… what is this… What the hell is this?! Have you Imperials sold your souls to the devil?!”
A warrior’s scream.
Out of the forty-two forming the encirclement, only ten remained alive.
Not even a trace of the bodies was left.
Only charred remains, as if a meteor had struck the forest.
“The Grand Marshal of the battlefield, Yuma.”
The three Imperial soldiers stared blankly down.
“Explain the current battlefield situation, Imperial soldiers.”
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