Chapter 619

The Berengeiria Wall, now bustling with sweaty soldiers, was as noisy as ever.

Two imperial legions dispatched by Leopold. Fifteen thousand infantry, eight thousand archers, and about seven thousand cavalry. A total force of thirty thousand, along with five hundred imperial knights, filled the military barracks below the wall.

“Thrust—spear!”

“Thrust—spear!”

“Don’t shake the tip! Put your weight into it and thrust accurately! If you swing like that, your head will fly off in the next moment!”

“Yes!”

In the training grounds, senior imperial commanders gathered clumsy recruits and drilled them all day long, while on the other side, imperial knights and Landenburg knights tangled in mock battles.

Full wartime readiness. Blacksmiths hammered iron through the night, producing arrows, armor, and spare armaments, while countless supply wagons moved back and forth in the rear.

The soldiers’ shouts, the clashing of armaments, the hammering of the blacksmiths, and the cries of workers moving supplies to the warehouses—all these noises blended together, making the inside of the wall as chaotic as a marketplace.

“Ugh, it’s so loud I could die.”

It was impossible to rest comfortably.

I closed the window and drew the thick curtains to block out as much noise as possible, grumbling to myself.

It wasn’t as loud as the battlefield, but with my sensitive senses, even this level of noise was enough to get on my nerves.

I could ignore it for a while, but day after day, it was unbearable.

I knew it was necessary, but understanding the necessity didn’t make the irritation any less.

“Still, with forty thousand troops gathered, we should be able to hold off Ka`har if they attack, right?”

Leonor shrugged with a wry smile. Her words were nonsense, but I shook my head and tapped the ash off my cigarette.

“Even with forty thousand, fifteen thousand of them are just green recruits. I doubt they’ll even do half the work.”

“Well… that’s true.”

The imperial forces Leopold sent were the 2nd and 3rd legions.

The 3rd legion had been honed into elite soldiers through continuous monster subjugation after the Ainfeld battle, but the 2nd legion, barely restored after being annihilated, was of such low quality that it was almost useless.

They might be somewhat useful in a defensive battle on the wall, but if we tried a full-scale battle on the plains, they’d be swept away like a sandcastle on the shore.

“Still, we can hold out relying on the wall, right?”

“Well… whether it’s possible or not, we have no other choice. If we try to maneuver, we’ll be crushed, and ambushes won’t work anymore.”

Unless Or-han was an idiot, he’d already have countermeasures for ambushes. Just gathering scattered troops into units of ten thousand would be enough.

If I personally intervened, I could descend from the sky and sweep through even a force of ten thousand, retreating when my energy ran out… but that was too risky a tactic.

If Or-han took advantage of my absence to fly to the wall and wreak havoc, or if he intercepted me just as I was about to retreat, what then? I couldn’t risk such danger just to take down a few thousand enemy soldiers.

In the end, all we could do was rely on the wall and fight a defensive battle.

Ka`har’s cavalry had overwhelming mobility and charge power that the empire couldn’t match, but siege warfare was a stage for infantry and archers. Cavalry wasn’t very useful in such battles.

“Well… no matter how or where we fight, my role is already decided.”

I took a deep drag of my cigarette and exhaled, crossing my legs on the table.

Stop Or-han.

No, kill him.

In a battlefield where tens of thousands would clash, my role was solely that. No one else in the empire had reached the level to face Or-han.

I heard that Frederick, the 3rd legion commander, had recently broken through the “wall” thanks to being constantly called for monster subjugation… but unfortunately, his heroic tale didn’t seem to have the power to break through the Indestructible Body.

“Showing off is fine… but can you actually beat Or-han? You lost last time.”

No, you can’t call that a loss.

“…Hey, that wasn’t a loss, it was a draw! I was exhausted, sure, but Or-han wasn’t exactly in perfect condition either!”

Sure, I was covered in blood while Or-han looked unscathed… but that was just appearances. His energy must have been drained too.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have retreated even with Ludwig’s reinforcements arriving.

If I could’ve fought for just twenty more minutes, I might’ve seen that damn Indestructible Body break.

“Well… one side could barely stand and was saved by reinforcements, while the other retreated unscathed. If that’s a draw, then Leonor and Damien’s sparring could be called a draw too, right?”

Leonor’s judgment was merciless. I couldn’t even argue.

“Well… it’s just that… if it weren’t for the Blue Army, I wouldn’t have been pushed that far….”

[ How pathetic, trying to make excuses. Admit it. That fight was clearly your defeat. ]

Hersela clicked her tongue in disdain.

No, really, if it weren’t for the Blue Army, I could’ve held out. If I hadn’t wasted energy on them, I could’ve fought for twenty more minutes. Why can’t you understand that?

Bitter resentment flowed out with the minty smoke.

—

Three days later, Joshua’s main force, which had marched toward the southern plains, returned. I stepped out onto the balcony of my chamber, smoking a cigarette, and looked down at them.

“Landenburg cavalry regiment, returning after completing our mission.”

They looked like defeated soldiers. Joshua’s cavalry, finally returned, was in a more pitiful state than expected. I knew the mission was tough, but I hadn’t expected such losses.

Out of the three thousand troops that had set out, only two hundred remained. Only the knights had survived; not a single soldier was left. It seemed they’d lost all three thousand horses too.

And…

“…So, Sir Klaus and Sir Bertrand have fallen.”

Ludwig, who had come out to greet the returning soldiers, looked up at the sky and made the sign of the cross. His face was filled with sorrow.

“I’m ashamed….”

The knight kneeling before Ludwig bowed his head deeply, his face filled with grief.

‘Hmm. Is that man Joshua?’

Joshua Blake.

The first sword of Landenburg and the first pure imperial to reach the Realm of Heroes.

I leaned forward slightly, scrutinizing him.

Sweat and oil-stained hair, hollow eyes, and a messy beard. His tattered armor made him look more like a vagrant than a knight. Just like the others.

He must’ve come straight from a fierce battle, with no time to tidy up. Though his armor hid it, his breathing and aura were unstable, suggesting he was seriously injured.

[ His aura isn’t bad, but he’s nowhere near strong enough to face Or-han. He looks over forty, and at that age, to only be at this level… is it lack of talent or lack of training? ]

If Joshua had heard that, he’d have grabbed the back of his neck and drawn his sword. It was a scathing critique, but I didn’t say anything, as I felt similarly.

He looked strong, as befitting a knight who’d reached the Realm of Heroes, but without the power of a heroic tale, he was only about as strong as Ryu-rik without regeneration.

Considering when he reached the Realm of Heroes, he’d be stronger than Frederick, but if he fought Or-han, he’d just be pounding on the Indestructible Body until his head flew off. He wasn’t a replacement for me.

“My lack of strength caused such great losses….”

“Nonsense. Who could blame you for your shortcomings? It was my lack of preparation, so don’t blame yourself.”

Joshua, blaming himself, bowed his head even deeper. Ludwig patted his shoulder lightly, comforting him. It didn’t seem to help much.

—

“Sir Klaus and Sir Bertrand have fallen… what a tragic loss.”

Nigel, upon hearing the news Joshua brought, had an unusually somber expression as she fiddled with her spear.

“Indeed.”

Though they’d taken out two of the enemy’s paladins, making the exchange even, Nigel’s grief and anger wouldn’t subside.

For Nigel, her direct seniors had died. As a sword of Landenburg, she couldn’t help but grieve.

Even I, who had only sparred with them a few times, felt a sense of loss.

Bertrand was one thing, but Klaus was a master whose swordsmanship surpassed even mine at the time. To lose him so pointlessly… it was truly regrettable.