Chapter 48

Chapter 48
### Chapter 48

Following the First Prince’s mandate, Lucian and the top-tier combatants of the Valdek family retreated from the front lines.

As this elite contingent of a thousand moved toward the rear, a heavy gloom settled over the Unified Army. The war had barely begun, yet the sight of internal friction among their own leaders was a pathetic spectacle.

‘It’s even more demoralizing when the consequence is discarding a potent ally.’

Lucian observed the plummeting spirits of the soldiers and allowed himself a cynical grin. Usually, the reprimand of a failing commander was postponed until a campaign concluded for a specific reason: regardless of how earned a punishment might be, watching a comrade be cast out inevitably shatters the group’s will to fight.

Yet, before the first sword had even been drawn, they were openly alienating a faction that had committed no errors.

‘This campaign is doomed.’

Capturing Bodium Castle would have been a grueling task under the best circumstances, but with the current state of the troops, even reaching the gates seemed like a fantasy.

To prepare for the inevitable disaster, Lucian sought out the leader of the Flame School.

“Master Blasker, do you have a moment?”

“Ah, Lord Lucian. What brings you to my tent?”

Blasker, who had been engrossed in a massive leather-bound book, stood up to show his respect. Despite the vast age gap, Blasker treated Lucian with high professional courtesy, recognizing him as the official representative of the Grand Duke.

‘He’s politically sharp. Clearly, he’s more than just a scholar buried in scrolls.’

Lucian noted this astute side of the mage with interest but kept his expression humble.

“I’ve come to ask for a significant favor.”

“A favor? I fear you’re speaking to the wrong man. I am merely a consultant for the throne.”

Blasker’s brow furrowed. Socially adept or not, he clearly wanted no part in partisan squabbles. Lucian quickly reframed his request to bridge the gap.

“It isn’t about politics. This is a matter of ensuring the safety of the Commander-in-Chief, the First Prince, and the prestige of the Crown.”

“What exactly are you implying?”

“The reality is…”

Lucian scanned their surroundings to ensure they were alone, leaned in, and spoke in a low murmur. A few seconds later, Blasker’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“Lord Lucian, that is blatant defiance of orders!”

“Indeed, and I’m certain the First Prince would label it as such. That is precisely why I am consulting you.”

“Even if your motives are noble, this is reckless. If the plan fails, the blame will fall squarely on my shoulders.”

“It is a necessary precaution against a catastrophe. I will take the fall for any fallout, I promise you.”

“Grrr…”

The mage agonized over the choice, his face contorted in thought, before eventually giving a stiff nod. He, too, sensed that entering this battle without a safety net was madness.

“Very well. If the situation turns dire, I will fulfill your request.”

“I am grateful you accepted such a difficult proposition.”

“Understand this: if we reach Bodium Castle without incident, this conversation never happened. If we make it that far, your plan becomes irrelevant anyway.”

“Naturally.”

Lucian offered a deep bow. He agreed in words, but he was certain the insurance policy would be cashed in. In his previous life, the First Prince had blundered into several traps where such a backup would have saved thousands. As long as the Prince’s arrogance remained constant, history was bound to repeat itself.

‘In the end, this benefits me.’

The more catastrophic the First Prince’s errors, the brighter Lucian—who had anticipated them—would shine. As long as the Prince didn’t actually die, Lucian didn’t care what happened to the man.

—

“You are to stay by the Horsen River and wait for further instructions.”

Prince Claude dismissed Lucian with a cold, brief command. He tried to frame the relocation as a strategic reserve placement, but every soldier present knew it was a petty act of vengeance.

The various nobles who understood the battlefield were left speechless by the absurdity.

‘Contingencies? At the very edge of the sovereign border?’

‘He could have at least placed them as a rearguard within a few miles.’

The lords fumed silently, but none dared to challenge Claude. Since a formal defeat hadn’t occurred yet, his royal authority remained absolute. Claude, feeling triumphant now that Lucian and Prince Cedric were out of his sight, looked refreshed.

“Onward to the next settlement. They likely ruined the wells there too, but I’ve been told there’s a creek nearby. Water won’t be an issue.”

“As you say, Your Highness.”

Marquis Bernhardt echoed the sentiment aloud but scoffed internally. Why would an enemy who destroys wells leave a fresh creek for an invading army? Still, the need for water was desperate, so he moved out without protest.

When the forces reached the next village, they found only ruins.

“They were meticulous. Everything is smashed, and the wells are filled with filth.”

“We can’t even find wood for a fire.”

Now that their hidden killers had been caught, Krepelt had shifted to a scorched-earth policy. They were no longer hiding their intent, focusing entirely on making the Imperial march a living hell.

“This was expected. Move to the stream,” Claude ordered, unfazed. He acted as though the existence of the stream would solve every logistical nightmare. The lords followed, though their dread only deepened.

‘The creek is a small target. It would be trivial to ruin it.’

‘If the water is gone, this march ends in a week.’

Most had already accepted that the water source would be unusable. Their primary fear now was how Claude would lash out when his last hope evaporated.

However, after another day’s journey, they reached the banks.

“The water is low because of a rockslide upstream, but it’s clean! We can drink this!”

“What…?”

The nobles exchanged stunned glances. The enemy, so thorough in their sabotage elsewhere, had barely touched the most vital resource?

Before anyone could analyze the anomaly, Claude turned to them with a smug grin.

“They ran out of time. Our rapid pace and the way we neutralized their spies clearly panicked them.”

“Is that the reason?”

“What else? Now, clear those rocks. Everyone is parched; let the men drink as much as they want.”

The lords complied, though a sense of wrongness lingered. The logic was thin, yet they had no better explanation.

‘…Wait, wasn’t the man who actually caught the spies sent to the back? Why is he taking credit for it now?’

Swallowing their complaints, the infantry began clearing the debris. As the stones were moved, the creek swelled back to its healthy volume.

As the work finished, Blasker approached the Prince with a look of deep concern.

“Your Highness, this feels like a trap.”

“A trap? Explain yourself.”

“This stream is small. It would have taken five minutes to poison it or divert it entirely. Instead, they just slowed it down—almost as if they wanted to lure the army into stopping right here.”

“You’re being paranoid. Look around; it’s an open plain. An ambush is impossible, and there’s nothing to burn. Even if there were a fire, we are standing in the water.”

Claude dismissed him with a wave of his hand. There was a forest in the distance, but it was too far for a surprise charge. From a traditional tactical standpoint, the Prince was right.

Blasker went quiet, but the prickle on the back of his neck wouldn’t go away.

‘The terrain is safe for steel and fire. but if they have a sorcerer… wait. Water? Conductive…?’

Suddenly, the pieces clicked. There was one specific magical alignment that turned a crowd of men standing in a stream into a slaughterhouse.

Before he could shout a warning, the sky turned pitch black.

*Rumble.*

“The sky was blue a second ago. Why is it thundering?”

“Is a storm rolling in?”

Hearing the confused murmurs of the rank and file, Blasker’s face went white. He looked up to see swirling, unnatural clouds forming directly above the heart of their camp.

“They wouldn’t dare…!”

As Blasker desperately began a defensive incantation—

*CRACK-BOOM!*

A pillar of searing blue lightning crashed down into the center of the Unified Army.

—

“Huff… huff!”

Colin exhaled sharply, his lungs burning from the strain of a high-tier spell. Draining his mana pool always felt like being hollowed out from the inside, but the results were worth it. He had just silenced the idiots who viewed mages as mere parlor tricks.

“My task is complete. The rest is your responsibility.”

“Y-Yes, of course.”

The Krepelt officer stared at the charred field in shock. He had spent weeks mocking Colin, but the display of raw elemental power had left him trembling.

“Incredible. A man of your talents should be the Lead Sorcerer of Krepelt…”

“I want the gold, not a job. Stop wasting time and finish them.”

The commander bit back a retort and turned to his battalion, drawing his sword.

“Charge! Eradicate the Imperial invaders! For Krepelt!”

“Forward!”

Bolstered by the divine-like display of magic, the Krepelt soldiers poured out of the woods. Though they were fewer and less equipped than the Imperials, they were attacking a force that was currently paralyzed and reeling from a magical strike.

“We will talk about your payment later! Don’t leave yet!” the commander yelled over his shoulder as he ran.

Colin just sneered. It was predictable—now they would beg for his services. To him, it was a pathetic turnaround.

‘As if I’d bind myself to a kingdom that just shredded the Grand Accord.’

The fact that they only respected him after he killed hundreds was irritating, but more importantly, Krepelt was a sinking ship. They might win a few battles and declare independence now, but the geopolitical consequences would be fatal.

‘With the Accord broken, every neighbor will become a predator. And everyone will blame Krepelt for the chaos. They’re celebrating a victory that will lead to their extinction.’

Were they so blinded by the idea of liberty that they hadn’t looked at the day after? If so, they were fools.

‘Not my problem. I take my pay and vanish.’

Colin looked back at the creek. The devastation was massive, but the area surrounding the high command was still standing. They had managed to deploy a mana barrier just in time.

“That old fox from the Flame School is fast. He’s earned his rank.”

However, after soaking up a lightning strike of that magnitude, the old mage would be drained. And fire magic was useless in the upcoming melee; he’d burn his own men.

‘Regardless of what that old man does, Krepelt wins today. I’ll just watch the carnage… Eh?’

*Whistle— Pop! Pop!*

Colin squinted at the sky. Vibrant, colorful sparks were bursting in the air. It wasn’t offensive magic; it was the kind of flashy light show used for festivals or long-range signaling. Why waste mana on that now?

“Wait… is that a signal?”

—

*Pop! Pop!*

“Young Master, there it is!”

“Right on time.”

Lucian looked up at the artificial lights in the sky and smiled. The signal came from exactly where he expected. The fact that Blasker had fired the flares meant Claude was in over his head.

It also meant the stage was set for Lucian’s grand entrance.

“Lord Lucian, our agreement…”

“I remember. You will lead the charge to save the First Prince. However, we march under the Valdek colors.”

“I am in your debt.”

Prince Cedric gave a curt nod, pleased with the arrangement. Lucian would provide the tactical leadership and the troops, while Cedric would play the hero by physically pulling his brother from the fire. They were splitting the political capital of the rescue.

“Don’t thank me yet. I intend to charge a very high price for handing you a share of my glory.”

“That sounds like a threat. But a fair one.”

Cedric smiled ruefully. He knew that if Lucian wanted to, he could have handled the rescue alone and taken all the credit. By including Cedric, Lucian was creating a debt that would have to be paid in the future.

“You have my word as royalty; the debt will be honored. I suspect this is only the beginning of our cooperation.”

“I have the same feeling.”

Lucian turned his back on the Prince. The thousand Valdek elites, armored and ready, stood in silent formation.

“Move out!”

At Lucian’s command, the force surged forward. This was the moment the timeline finally broke away from the history he knew.