Kai had won.
And he was virtually unhard.
The sheer gulf between their abilities was sothing I had never imagined. I had assud he was a Grand Master assassin and nothing more. But the reality that had just unfolded was sothing else entirely.
The realization struck hard. He’s stronger than Lancelot.
He had overwheld an assassin of the Twelve Nobles’ caliber without even entering his Mindscape. What would have happened if he had?
I would have had to push my own Mindscape to its absolute limit.
Slayer’s Birthright. Kai’s innate talent, his very essence as a killer, had just been laid bare. When this war was over, his na would be etched into the annals of history as the youngest and greatest assassin of all ti.
“Are you unhard, Young Master?”
Even after such a display, Kai’s deanor was as placid as ever. Drenched in blood, his expression unreadable, he approached with a steady gait.
“I am. Thank you.”
I brushed the dust from my clothes and rose to my feet. Without him, the fight would have been far more costly.
The forr Veilwarden of the Death Veil. She was a terrible matchup for .
I would not have lost, naturally. My Mindscape would have allowed to seize the advantage ti and again.
However, doing so would have left drained, creating a fatal vulnerability in the battles to co. If I had been unable to use my Mindscape at all… it would have ended right there.
Death. No matter how powerful a knight, a single mistake could be their last.
In that sense, Kai had saved my life.
“I had no doubt you would win,” I said.
“It was nothing.” Kai scratched his cheek, a hint of embarrassnt in the gesture.
A faint smile touched my lips. “And the mission I entrusted to you?”
“Completed. I switched places with Sir Lancelot.”
I had tasked Kai with protecting the Imperial army. Specifically, the hamr. He was to shield Lancelot’s forces until they reached the anvil.
He had executed his duty flawlessly before coming to my aid.
“And this.” Kai held out his hand.
Resting in his palm was a crimson jewel, the sa one the Veilwarden had possessed monts ago.
I took it, its surface cool against my skin. It was an artifact of the sa type I had first encountered in Lovan Tree Prison.
So this is Artezia’s work?
How a re human could forge such an artifact was a mystery.
Perhaps he possessed a unique ability, like the blacksmith I’d recruited from Lovan Tree. Or perhaps Duke Artezia’s power was simply that great.
With the tiline so altered from my past life, I could not be certain.
I’ll have to find out.
But for that to happen, this war had to end.
I took a breath and stored the red jewel in my dinsional ring. The first battle, it seed, was finally drawing to a close.
“Gaaaaaaah!”
“Kill them! Kill them all!”
The battlefield was a maelstrom of screams. And through that pandemonium, one truth erged: the Imperial army had won.
Hamr and anvil. The strategy had been a resounding success.
* * *
In the Ducal command tent, the Ogre Chieftain’s laugh was a hollow, grinding sound. “The battle is over?”
They had barely set foot on the field, and it was already finished. Not with a victory, but with a crushing, near-total annihilation.
“And you expect to believe that?” His face contorted with fury.
He had given them one task: buy ti. Not victory, not the prince’s head. Just hold the line. That was all he had asked, and they had failed, returning only with news of their own destruction.
“How many survived?”
“Approximately three hundred, sir.”
“Ha!”
Ten thousand went out; three hundred returned. He had intended them as disposable pawns, but their incompetence was still staggering.
“A waste of feed. Kill them all.” If he needed more soldiers, the red jewel would provide. The Aspect of War would grant him more. An army of marionettes.
“Yes… sir!” The human soldier, his face pale with terror, scrambled out of the tent to relay the order.
The Ogre Chieftain exhaled and sank into a chair of stretched hide.
Once this is over, our people’s dream will be fulfilled.
The duke had promised. If they won this war, if the Empire fell into his hands, he would recognize all ogres as citizens.
For our people’s dream, the Ogre Chieftain vowed, his eyes glinting with a cold, hard light.
The first battle was only the beginning.
* * *
Imdiately after the battle, I was summoned by the First Prince.
“Ah, there you are!” he greeted , his smile brilliant. One would think a war hero had just returned in triumph. “Baron Louis. Or should I say, Marquis?”
Unsurprising reaction.
The First Prince was euphoric, having snatched victory from the jaws of a defeat he had all but accepted. And with over eighty percent of our forces preserved, he likely believed we now stood a fighting chance.
His face was haggard, but his smile was unwavering. “You have done a great service, Marquis. Thanks to you, the people of the Empire will not be trampled under the enemy’s boots.”
Was it truly for the people? Was he this happy for his subjects, or rely for his own survival?
I could not read his heart, only infer his sincerity from his past actions and present relief.
“You are too kind, Your Highness,” I said. “And as I have not yet been formally invested, please continue to call Baron. The war is far from over.”
“Heh… Truly, you are an indispensable asset to the Empire.”
I maintained a neutral expression. “As a subject of the Empire, is it not my duty?”
The perfect image of a loyal vassal.
It was, of course, a facade. I had never known loyalty… not before my regression, and not now. To , the Imperial Family was a tool, and a pack of incompetents who had failed to protect my house.
“Yes… Thank you for saying so,” the prince said, his smile turning bittersweet as he nodded. “Well, I am keeping a busy man. Go and rest. I will have a special al sent to your quarters.”
“I am grateful for your grace, O Rising Sun.”
I bowed and left the audience chamber. The audience had been brief, but my objective remained singular.
I need to prepare for the next battle.
I had to master my Mindscape. To seize control of the power I had held back in this first engagent.
I returned to my room at once. The war was not over.
* * *
anwhile, the Demonkin army had finished its preparations to march on the North.
“Soldiers of the Demonkin!” Lord Khan, their commander-in-chief, roared from a high platform. “You have failed! Pushed back by human filth, slaughtered by creatures that are nothing more than prey!”
Normally, his warriors would have erupted in protest. Now, they stood in trembling, humiliated silence.
Regardless, Khan pressed on. “You are vermin! Dregs that should never have been born! Falling before humans younger than our own whelps? This is a stain on our history! A gathering of imbeciles!”
The sound of thousands of fists clenching echoed from below.
“But even vermin have their purpose! Will you crawl ho like beaten dogs? Will you grovel at the feet of humans and kiss their boots?”
A low growl answered him, a wave of fury building in the ranks.
“No! We will not!” Khan roared back. “We may be defeated imbeciles, but we are not dogs! Raise your swords! Unleash your demonic energy! Do not fear death! You were born Demonkin, so die as Demonkin!”
His voice grew harsher, a torrent of fury. “I command you! Die on the battlefield! But when you die, take your enemies with you! Rip out their throats! Gouge out their eyes! Tear out their hearts! Die with the taste of their flesh in your mouths!”
As his speech reached its climax, he curled his lip into a snarl and scread, “That is how a Demonkin dies!”
“My legion! With Lord Khan and the Demon King, we go to et our deaths!”
“HRAAAAAH!”
The simring anger erupted. It was no longer directed at their commander, but outward, a torrent of venom aid at the Empire.
Their profound defeat had transford into a colossal, unyielding resolve.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
The Demonkin army began to stomp in unison.
“For the Demon God!”
“For the Demon God!”
“Begin the war!”
“Begin the war!”
A trendous roar shook the heavens and the earth.
Khan’s cry cut through the din.
“March!”
The Demonkin army advanced as one.
Their target: the heartland of the Empire. The site of their greatest sha. The place where the killer of the Twelve Nobles resided.
The ho of Louis Berg.
The place where everything he held dear resided.
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