Chapter 49

Chapter 49
Chapter 49

“Cough!”

Blasker let out a sharp hack, his internal organs feeling like they had been tossed in a blender.

Small beads of crimson sprayed from his lips, staining his spit.

“M-Master!”

“Be quiet! Don’t cause a scene!”

Blasker snapped at his frantic pupils.

When a leader showed weakness, the subordinates beneath them spiraled into even greater panic. In a crisis like this, he had to project an aura of calm, even if it was a total fabrication.

“The casualties… how bad is it? What about the infantry? The Prince and the senior officers?”

“His Highness survived, and most of the high-ranking staff managed to evade the strike. But the rank-and-file…”

The student, who had been speaking at a frantic clip, let his words die away.

With a heavy heart, Blasker forced his eyelids open to scan the area. He gnashed his teeth at the devastation before him.

Curse it all. At this rate, there are barely any combat-ready soldiers left in the entire unit.

Blasker’s reflexes had undoubtedly been sharp. Before the hostile sorcery could flatten the camp, he had manifested a mana barrier to deflect the brunt of it, ensuring only a handful took the full force of the impact.

The tragedy lay in the fact that most of the troops had been positioned near the waterway, and their gear was soaked. Even though they hadn’t been hit squarely, a massive portion of the force had been fried as the electrical surge traveled through the water on their skin.

“Ugh! Lord Blasker, what the hell is going on here!?”

Marquis Bernhardt was the first of the high-tier nobility to find his footing. Though his sight was blurry and a high-pitched whine rang in his ears from the flash, the thunder, and the shockwave, he forced his body to move.

Blasker moved quickly to clarify the state of affairs.

“It was a targeted strike. They manipulated the local climate with mana to summon a lightning storm. Luckily, we weren’t hit directly, but the current channeled through the dampness on the men’s bodies and locked up their muscles—”

“Stop with the technical babble and speak plainly! I don’t follow any of that academic nonsense!”

“Very few are actually dead, but the vast majority are paralyzed by the shock! They won’t be capable of moving for at least four or five hours without a long recovery!”

“Damn it!”

Confronted with the worst possible news, the Marquis rose, rubbing one eye that had turned bloodred from the pressure.

Setting aside the few who had been burnt to a crisp, most didn’t appear to have fatal wounds. However, a sea of soldiers lay unconscious, and even those regaining their senses were twitching on the dirt, unable to command their own limbs.

“Your Highness! Crown Prince!”

“Ugh… Aaah…!”

The supreme leader, Crown Prince Claude, was so traumatized by the lightning strike that his strength had left his legs, and he was incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

Marquis Bernhardt ground his teeth at the pathetic display, walked over to Claude, and ripped the commander’s staff right out of his grip.

“Your Highness! Seeing as the situation is desperate, I am taking control of the forces in your stead!”

“Uuuugh…!”

Even with his symbol of power seized, Claude did nothing but whimper, trapped in a state of total shock.

Several officers, Blasker included, scowled at the Marquis’s blatant grab for power, but nobody spoke up to stop him. With Claude in that condition, the chaos would never be resolved unless a new hand took the reins.

“First, we need a real count of the losses! How many men can actually stand and—!”

—Waaaaah!

Before Marquis Bernhardt could issue his first command, a massive battle cry thundered from the distance.

He spun his head around in terror to witness a host of troops that had been lurking in the woods charging straight for the Allied Forces.

“Are they mad…!”

The gap was still wide enough that a sneak attack should have been ineffective. But in their current shambles, any assault—ambush or otherwise—was a death sentence.

The Marquis screamed at the huddle of soldiers with every bit of air in his lungs.

“Get up! The enemy is closing in! If you don’t want to be slaughtered where you lie, find your feet!”

“Uuugh!”

Spurred by the Marquis’s shout, the men began to claw their way up. Seeing roughly half of the fallen soldiers struggle to stand, the Marquis’s expression brightened for a split second, only to fall again.

Half of those standing were barely keeping their balance; only the remaining quarter were actually in any shape to swing a sword.

“Lord Blasker, can’t you do something with your craft!?”

“It’s impossible from this position!”

The Marquis tried to lean on Blasker, the sorcerer, but one of the disciples stepped out to provide the answer instead.

“There isn’t enough time to weave a spell, and since we are on flat ground, the focus is too spread out! If we held the high ground, maybe, but at this range, any large-scale magic would likely overshot!”

“The enemy will be on top of us while you’re singing your incantations, so just fire it then!”

“If they get too close, we run the risk of incinerating our own men in the blast!”

Worthless hacks.

The Marquis choked back an insult, seeing no escape path. Was there really no other card to play?

Whiz… pop, pop, pop!

“Master?”

“Be quiet, don’t move…!”

The Marquis turned toward the sudden, crackling noise. Before he realized it, vibrant sparks were blooming against the clouds. It looked like the kind of pyrotechnic show a wizard of the Flame School might perform for a holiday crowd.

Stunned, the Marquis glared at Blasker for squandering his mana.

“What do you think you’re playing at? Are you inviting the enemy to enjoy a light show before they kill us?”

“Listen to me very carefully. Lord Lucian is following our trail with a thousand elite warriors from House Valdek.”

“What!?”

“It was a safety measure I arranged, just in case things went south. What I just launched was the signal. Now, go and broadcast this to give the men a reason to fight. Cough!”

Blasker lost his balance and dropped to one knee. Having strained himself to use magic once more, he seemed physically incapable of saying another word.

The Marquis wanted to press for more details, but the clock was ticking, so he immediately began to bellow.

“Hold your ground! Help has arrived! The legions of House Valdek are coming to our aid! The signal has been acknowledged, and they will be here momentarily!”

“…!”

“Defend the Crown Prince! Once the relief force joins us, the day is ours!”

The Allied Forces, whose spirits had been crushed by the weight of hopelessness, suddenly looked up with wide, frantic eyes. If the Marquis wasn’t lying, there was a thin thread of hope to cling to.

—Waaaaah!

—Fall, Imperial mongrels!

—You yellow-bellied cowards!

The screech of metal, insults, wails, and war cries filled the air.

Breathing in the heavy, metallic aroma of gore, Count Dominic’s mouth twisted into a smirk. This conflict was effectively settled.

However, his grin evaporated when the Allied Forces refused to break, no matter how many of them were cut down.

“…This makes no sense. Why are they fighting back with such suicide-levels of grit?”

An army doesn’t only stop when the last man dies. If the path to victory is clearly blocked, men will usually shatter even if they still have the breath to run. Unless they are a death squad that has already embraced the grave, even the best soldiers follow this rule.

Yet, they were holding the line with terrifying intensity when not even twenty-five percent of their men were capable of holding a shield.

It’s as if they are convinced that victory is still within their grasp.

That kind of spirit would be impossible unless every single grunt was certain they could win. But how? Unless they had reinforcements on the way, but their entire combined strength was supposed to be trapped right here.

Is the Imperial wizard weaving a grand spell? No, even a master-tier spell can’t be unleashed when both armies are tangled in such a tight melee…

Booooom—

The deep, resonant blast of a war horn reached Dominic’s ears, cutting through his thoughts. At that vibration, both Dominic and the Allied Forces froze in their tracks.

Shifting his gaze, he saw a cavalry force thundering toward them from the horizon, fronted by a flag depicting a lion.

“…Valdek!?”

“It’s Lord Lucian! The backup from the Grand Ducal House of Valdek is on the field!”

“Waaaaaaaah!”

At the same moment Dominic felt the chill of shock, the Marquis’s joyful scream rang out.

The Allied Forces instantly regained their fighting spirit and shoved back with more force than before, while the confused Krepelt units were slowly forced to retreat.

Dominic’s features twisted in a mask of fury at the sudden shift in momentum.

“Curse it!”

He had wondered why the colors of the Grand Duke of Valdek were missing from the initial fight; they had been staying in the wings. Dominic’s mind raced as he processed the total reversal.

Even if they jump into the pit, we still hold the numerical edge. But since we’re locked in a brawl, I can’t shift the lines except for a tiny group of reserves…!

At this pace, they would be slammed in the ribs while being held in place. If he didn’t want his entire formation to collapse and be steamrolled, he had to neutralize them before that happened.

There were two paths forward.

Seize the Crown Prince and force an end to the battle, or kill the Valdek leader and stall their charge.

The first option is too risky.

The enemy understood how vital the Crown Prince was and was shielding him with suicidal devotion—from Marquis Bernhardt and Blasker, the patriarch of the Flame School, to the Royal Guard commanded by Jurgen. Even with his full power, he wouldn’t be able to hack through them before the relief force hit. The only viable path was to eliminate the Valdek commander immediately.

Dominic bit his lip and barked an order.

“Reserve squads, on me!”

“Good, they’re staying together.”

Lucian monitored the condition of the Allied Forces as he spurred his horse forward. Though they were being shoved back, they didn’t look like they were about to snap. If anything, the opposition seemed to be faltering at the mere sight of the Valdek colors.

“Third Young Master, give us the word to strike!”

“We’ll hit them from the side just like— Wait, what’s that blocking our path?”

Lucian squinted at a small cluster of soldiers suddenly sprinting toward them. No matter the angle, their numbers were far too small to halt the Valdek elites. If they maintained their charge, the enemy would surely be ground into the dirt without a second thought.

While everyone was trying to figure out their strategy, a lone knight rode out ahead of the group.

“I am Dominic Ryler! Count of Krepelt and the leader of this army! Commander of Valdek, if you aren’t a coward, step forward and face me in single combat!”

“Absolute lunatic.”

Gerard, the lieutenant, let out a dry, incredulous chuckle. To think they would ask for a formal duel after being the ones to violate the Grand Accord. Their sheer gall was almost impressive.

“Third Young Master, you don’t need to entertain this. Let’s just run them over.”

“No, I’ll take the challenge.”

“I beg your pardon? What are you saying…!”

“But don’t pull up. Just drop the speed a tiny bit. This won’t take long anyway.”

“Third Young Master!?”

Before Gerard could protest further, Lucian kicked his horse into a high-speed sprint and pulled ahead.

Seeing Lucian riding out alone, Dominic felt a momentary wave of relief, assuming his gamble had paid off. However, he quickly realized that while the main force had slowed, it hadn’t actually halted. He screamed in outrage.

“What is this!? If you have accepted a challenge, you are bound to stop your army! Have you no concept of the rules of engagement!?”

“That’s a funny observation coming from the man who spat on the Grand Accord. Besides, what kind of rules apply when I’m just taking out the trash?”

“What!?”

“Anyway, I’ve got your name. You don’t need mine; you’re just a hurdle I’m about to clear.”

“You…!”

Dominic’s face flushed a deep, angry purple. The rider was clad in plate, but judging by the frame and the voice, he was barely a man. To be dismissed like refuse by a wet-behind-the-ears kid, rather than a seasoned general… No matter how hard he fought to keep his cool, his temper flared.

“Fine! I’ll make you bleed for your stupid pride!”

Losing his patience, Dominic kicked his steed toward Lucian.

Though the situation had drifted slightly from his script, the core fact remained that the enemy leader had stepped out. If he could take the boy’s head, the Valdek troops would collapse into chaos. Even if he died in the process, if he could stall them here, it would count as Dominic’s win.

Based on his grip, is he trying to end this in one pass? That must be the legendary Lion Heart Sword.

Dominic quickly read Lucian’s plan from his body language. The Lion Heart Sword was renowned for its sheer, crushing power. It was an ideal choice for horseback fighting, where fancy footwork was impossible.

However, that realization only made Dominic smirk.

A rookie mistake. No matter how much power is behind a swing, there are ways to divert it as long as the trajectory is predictable.

Since intricate maneuvers were difficult, one couldn’t easily dodge and weave. But one could time their strike to hit the enemy’s head-on. Luckily, the style Dominic practiced also centered on raw strength. If they clashed, the sheer force would throw both of them from their saddles.

And while the kid is reeling from the fall, I’ll find my feet and finish him.

Dominic had been thrown from his horse in the heat of battle multiple times, but what about this teenager? It always took a moment for anyone to clear their head in an unexpected wreck. No matter how good his training was, he certainly wouldn’t be able to recover in time.

Now!

Clang!

The second the two were within striking range, Dominic lunged. As predicted, a massive jolt rattled his entire skeleton.

And in that same heartbeat, Dominic’s head spun into the sky.

A second too late, Dominic realized that his own blade had shattered into pieces, while Lucian’s weapon had held firm and sliced clean through his neck.

Snatching Dominic’s head before it hit the ground, Lucian whispered with a confused expression.

“Sorry about that. My equipment is a little higher quality than yours.”