Chapter 296

If Valdemar’s Northern Army returns on time, it would be a huge help.

Right now, I’m not sure how much is left, but the Northern Army I saw was a powerful force of over 5,000 soldiers, 300 knights, and even seven masters. True to their Northern roots, they were all experts at dealing with beastmen.

However, relying on reinforcements that might never come is as pointless as it gets.

What we need to do now isn’t just waiting for backup but figuring out how to deal with Ryurik’s beastmen army if they attack faster than expected, using the forces we have left here.

It wasn’t just me—Freide and Leonor were thinking the same thing.

We stuffed bread and meat into our stomachs while discussing this throughout the meal.

—

The remaining forces in Pailun Castle were neither large nor small—just an ambiguous number.

The Imperial Army, which once numbered 30,000, had lost most of its men in endless attrition and the Northern Wall battles.

Only about 8,000 remained… no, excluding the wounded, barely 6,000. Truly devastating losses.

Even though we raided the storage and armed them with silver-plated reserve weapons, if a full-scale battle broke out, it would take seven or eight soldiers to barely handle one mixed-blood beastman.

In other words, unless we’re willing to sacrifice all our soldiers, our strategy is limited to relying on the castle walls for defense.

The number of knights was 200—a mixed group in terms of age and skill.

Some could easily cut down pure-blood beastmen, while others were so weak that it took three of them to handle one pure-blood.

It’s probably due to the difference in experience.

The veteran knights had faced beastmen many times, but the younger ones had mostly only dealt with monsters or the occasional zombie.

And as for masters capable of taking on a grand warrior, there were only three here.

Though Damien and Milia could probably take down one grand warrior together if they teamed up.

“Speaking of which… why hasn’t Damien reached master level yet?”

Considering his growth rate, he should’ve easily reached master level by now.

During the sparring session earlier, I was too focused on the blood rushing to my head to think about it, but now that I do, it’s really strange.

Swordsmanship, aura, physical ability—he’s more than qualified to become a master in every aspect, yet he still hasn’t reached that level.

“‘Even’ a master? You’re the weird one. Normally, that’s not a level anyone his age dares to dream of. There are plenty of knights who can’t reach it even after turning forty.”

Says the guy who became a master at nineteen. Not like you’re painting your own face gold or anything.

“No, after sparring with him earlier, he’s at master level in everything except aura. It’s just weird, no matter how I think about it.”

“Hmm… maybe he needs some kind of emotional trigger? That’s how it was for me.”

Leonor tilted her head and shared her story of how she became a master.

A trigger, huh? Now that I think about it, that makes sense.

—

An emotional trigger. Looking back, it was the same for me when I became a master.

It’s not a memory I like to revisit, but at that time, I was undoubtedly overwhelmed by intense emotions—guilt, anger, and a sense of responsibility.

For Leonor, it was sorrow, compassion, and familial love.

Ophelia became a high-ranking mage after the humiliation Isabella inflicted on her, which made her blood boil to the top of her head.

“What about you, Freide?”

“Well… desperation and a sense of duty, I guess? I became a master during the Heavenly Mountain Range battle when the unit I commanded faced two grand warriors. I was definitely desperate to the point where I couldn’t think straight.”

Freide also nodded, agreeing with Leonor’s theory.

So, to become a master, it’s not just about accumulating enough aura but also needing some emotionally extreme situation?

[ …That sounds like a plausible theory. ]

Hersela, who had been listening, seemed to agree as well.

‘What about you?’

[ ……It was when a drunkard desecrated my mother’s grave. I hunted down the culprit across all of Ordos and spent ten days flaying his flesh. ]

Uh… what do I even say to that?

That’s… a very her-like trigger, I guess.

Anyway, if that’s the case, then the reason Damien hasn’t become a master is that he hasn’t been pushed to an emotional extreme…

But isn’t that a bit strange?

From what Freide said, it sounds like he went through hell in the Heavenly Mountain Range. A lot of people died, too.

In a situation like that, a guy with the mindset of a hero didn’t feel any emotional turmoil?

That can’t be right.

…I don’t know.

I don’t think it’s possible, but… looking at the results, that’s how it turned out.

I talked to Freide and Leonor about it, but…

There was no particular gain.

Leonor had no interest in Damien from the start, and Freide also shook her head, saying, “Now that I think about it, it is strange, but I don’t really know what he’s thinking either.”

Come to think of it, I didn’t know much about Damien either. Not the Damien from the game, but the real Damien.

I had never had a long conversation with him except during sparring.

I only made assumptions based on Milia’s old stories and Damien’s behavior, without even bothering to find out more.

Even though I had experienced firsthand several times that there was a significant difference between the knowledge I had and the reality of this world.

Lacey, who seemed so loyal in the game, turned out to be a woman who seemed like a mix of Teresa and Adolf when I actually met her.

Ophelia, who had a mix of arrogance and a lack of affection, was obsessed with the protagonist and craved love… She had a shocking tendency to violate her own sister and was advancing in a sinister direction as a magician.

Freide was also not the proud and cold noble lady from the game, but rather a pitiful character who clearly lacked friends.

At least Milia hadn’t changed much… but what about Damien?

Now that I think about it, it’s not a matter to be taken lightly, assuming he has a heroic personality because he’s the protagonist.

…I need to have a talk with Damien.

—

After that, we discussed the beastmen again.

How many of them there were, and how to stop them if they invaded.

At least, due to the long war of attrition, their numbers had significantly decreased compared to the beginning.

There were only about eighteen great warriors left, excluding Ryurik, and about four hundred pure-blood warriors. The mixed-blood warriors still numbered over a thousand.

“If we rely on the walls, we might manage… but the real problem is Ryurik. On the northern wall, he swept across the top, and we couldn’t respond properly, leading to a collapse. If he comes flying with a catapult this time, it would actually be a blessing. We’ve prepared some countermeasures.”

As Freide said, such a surprise attack only works once. It’s not a tactic that works twice.

If we prepare in advance, it wouldn’t be difficult to shoot down a massive object flying towards us with a catapult.

We could have the magicians create a headwind or throw spears with nets to slow down the flying object, causing it to crash before reaching the wall.

Even if they break through and reach the top of the wall, they would be unable to move for a while as they regenerate. I could rush in and cut them down during that time.

The real problem would be if they came at us head-on.

The walls of Faelun Castle were sturdy, but not as much as the northern wall.

Even if they just climbed the walls, it would be extremely troublesome. Once they got on the walls, we would have no choice but to fight in the narrow passages.

We spent the entire meal time discussing countermeasures, but in the end, the only conclusion was that we had to win through sheer force. No brilliant strategies came to mind.

“Let’s stop here for now. It doesn’t seem like we’ll come up with any solutions even if we keep thinking. If something comes to mind, we can discuss it again later.”

Freide got up from her seat after finishing the meal.

She had a lot to do, so she didn’t have the luxury to continue the repetitive conversation.

Nana and Leonor felt the same way, so the discussion ended there for the day.

—

Damien woke up a little past noon.

After thanking Florence for the news, I asked a maid wandering the hallway and headed to Damien’s room.

Her cheeks turned slightly red as she answered, making it obvious what she was imagining.

It seemed that Freide’s threat only managed to keep their mouths shut, but didn’t dispel the misunderstandings.

If everyone is like this, visiting Damien’s room at this point might just drive the nail in further…

Maybe we should have the conversation somewhere other than his private room.