Chapter 636

I roamed the grasslands in secret, searching for the method to break the curse of assassination and tear the culprits into a thousand pieces, but I achieved nothing.

Until she lost her life.

A few days later, I finally found the culprits who had cursed Ai-mel-ra. Around the time her funeral was being held.

After subjecting them to every form of torture I could think of, I uncovered that they were a group of sorcerers who had assassinated Ai-mel-ra under the orders of the “Grand Sorcerer.”

However, even they didn’t know the true identity of the most important Grand Sorcerer.

A hollow heart. Bottomless rage. I returned to Ordos, drenched in their blood, only to hear that Ha-shal-leur had gouged out Amin’s eyes.

In that child’s eyes, I saw a deep, seething hatred—enough to burn the entire grasslands to ashes. Hatred toward me. Hatred toward the warriors of Ai-shan. Hatred toward the world.

At the center of that hatred, fiercer than even the heavens, lurked the blood of a wolf, thicker than my own.

Could anything be more twisted?

The one I had longed for—the one with the potential to be the strongest in the grasslands. The bloodline of divine blood, which I had let go of alongside Ai-mel-ra, revealed itself to me the moment I lost her.

As if it had been waiting for this moment.

Ha-shal-leur, clutching Ai-mel-ra’s sword—too long and heavy for her—vowed to live as a warrior, and I couldn’t refuse her.

Even though I knew her fangs were aimed at me.

A nine-year-old girl, stripped of Ai-mel-ra’s protection, with no one to rely on, now in complete enmity with Da-ha-mei.

For this child to survive, she had to become stronger. Stronger than anyone.

The daughter, who had no interest in martial arts, now harbored hatred toward me, finding a reason to pursue strength and ambition. It was something to celebrate.

As long as I remained the strongest in the grasslands, this child would use her desire for revenge against me as fuel to surpass even me, running forward without stopping.

—

The following year, I marched through Dane’s territory, burning it down, and invaded the empire of the Westerners.

I declared to the warriors that it was revenge for the attack two years prior, but in truth, it was a war fueled by childish resentment—had Ludwig not attacked us, I wouldn’t have lost Ai-mel-ra.

I brought Ha-shal-leur to the battlefield, protecting her while teaching her the skills and wisdom needed to survive as a warrior. I didn’t expect a nine-year-old to understand all of it.

The war was lost.

The warriors were satisfied, having plundered countless villages and gained endless spoils, but for me, it was a defeat.

My incomplete Indestructible Body was blocked by the bizarre techniques of an old man who called himself the “Ghost Sword,” and Ludwig surrounded us from three sides, forcing us to choose between annihilation or retreat.

I had no choice but to retreat, promising to fight another day.

My past dream—to conquer the Great Plains and take revenge on the culprit who annihilated the divine bloodline—was still less than half fulfilled…

And my second dream—to pass on the great empire of the grasslands I had built to the child who inherited the wolf’s blood, reviving the divine bloodline—would vanish like foam if I continued fighting like this.

The only consolation was that in that war, I managed to kill Ludwig’s last remaining child.

—

Years passed like arrows shot into the distance.

I avoided large-scale battles, focusing instead on raising an army to burn down the eastern enemies. The West… honestly, I had no interest in anything beyond Landenburg.

The warriors wanted to destroy the Westerners’ lands and plunder everything, but for me, breaking the barrier and killing Ludwig would be enough. I doubted Ai-mel-ra would have wanted our homeland burned to the ground.

While I was building the warriors into an army, Ha-shal-leur grew stronger at an astonishing rate.

In just five years, the ten-year-old child who had only learned basic self-defense swordsmanship became one of Ai-shan’s greatest warriors.

Ha-shal-leur, inheriting the talents of both me and Ai-mel-ra, and awakening the wolf’s blood within her, reached a level of genius no one in the grasslands had ever achieved.

After the wolf’s blood awakened, her body transcended humanity, just like mine. She even succeeded in manifesting the Life Force Technique, something even I couldn’t achieve.

The only worry was that she might become consumed by vengeance and descend into madness…

But thanks to Ja-han, a warrior I assigned as her guard and companion, Ha-shal-leur grew into a fine warrior, burning with hatred toward me but not losing herself to madness.

A warrior worthy of the title of Kagan, the absolute ruler of the Great Plains.

The day Ha-shal-leur demonstrated the tangible power of the Life Force Technique, I decided she would be my successor. Someone who would surpass me, defeat me, and rule the grasslands in my place.

It wasn’t favoritism—there simply was no one else fit for the role.

Targien was brave but reckless, Sahallyeon was too cold to earn the warriors’ respect, and Amin was both reckless and unpopular.

All three were decent as individual warriors and could manage the tribe if they became Khan, but none were fit for the throne of Kagan.

The problem was, the other children had noticed my intentions. Or rather, their mothers had. Biasiren, Meiharin, and even Da-ha-mei were quick to catch on.

My children had always competed for the position of successor, but after Ha-shal-leur reached the level of a great warrior, they united to suppress her.

Ha-shal-leur, seeing their suppression as a threat, stopped staying in Ordos and instead roamed outside, focusing on plundering expeditions.

Eventually, she came to me with a plausible excuse, declaring her intention to leave for the empire.

“The empire, huh…”

For the first time in years, she called me “father,” hiding her hatred and seething malice as she made her proposal.

Whether it was to escape for a while or to gather an army to kill me using the empire’s power, I didn’t know… but after some thought, I allowed it.

Because of Ai-mel-ra’s sword at her waist.

If any of my other children crossed the barrier and met Ludwig, they would surely die. Ludwig and I were sworn enemies.

But even Ludwig, who harbored deep resentment toward me, wouldn’t harm Ai-mel-ra’s daughter.

Ai-mel-ra had told me that her ancestors and Ludwig’s ancestors were close comrades, and Ludwig knew she was a descendant of the Twelve Knights.

I doubted he would sever the last of such an important bloodline for the sake of his revenge.

Even if Ludwig did attack Ha-shal-leur, she was among the top three great warriors and unlikely to fall.

The Ludwig I knew would rather…

Yes. He would more likely try to manipulate Ha-shal-leur into becoming the sword to kill me.

So I sent Ha-shal-leur to the empire.

She might grow stronger and return, or return with the Imperial Army, or perhaps never return at all… but any outcome seemed acceptable.

If she returned with the power to kill me, I would fight her once and gladly die, passing my position to her. Entrusting her with the dreams I couldn’t fulfill.

If she returned with the Imperial Army to attack Ai-shan, my dream of making her my successor would become difficult… but I could accept that.

If the empire won, Ha-shal-leur would live as a celebrated war hero.

If Ai-shan won, I could kill Ludwig and quell my resentment, while capturing Ha-shal-leur and persuading her to become my successor.

If she never returned, that wasn’t bad either. If Ai-mel-ra’s daughter settled in Ai-mel-ra’s homeland and lived peacefully, Ai-mel-ra would have been happy.

—

Half a year later.

Amin, mobilizing the White Armies on his own, attacked the barrier and fell.

It was an unpleasant affair. Not only did it disrupt the eastern expedition, but his reckless attack on the empire might have destabilized Ha-shal-leur’s position.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Ha-shal-leur crushed the White Armies herself, seemingly securing her position. She even seemed stronger than before.

The fact that she used Flame Sorcery was… unexpected, to say the least.

I punished Amin. While defeat could be forgiven, forging my orders to move the army was an unforgivable crime.

…Perhaps because Targien was involved, the outcome was more brutal than I expected.

Amin and Da-ha-mei’s condition was so pitiful that even I felt a shred of sympathy. I offered Amin a choice: his life or his mother’s.

If Amin chose to sacrifice himself to save Da-ha-mei, I planned to show mercy and spare them both.

But Amin disappointed me to the end, and as a result, he was left with a life worse than death. Da-ha-mei returned to the palace and took her own life.

Though it was the result of coveting a position beyond his abilities, it was still a bitter affair.

—

The following year, I defeated Adanmudur and took control of the entire Great Plains. It was a victory granted by the heavens.

While managing the prisoners and occupied territories, I also found a clue about the culprit who had annihilated my clan—another stroke of divine luck.

The leader of the sorcerer tribes scattered across the Great Plains, hiding their identities: the “Grand Sorcerer of the White Valley.”

Though I couldn’t uncover their true identity, I knew they were the one who had ordered the annihilation of my clan and the assassination of Ai-mel-ra.

The root of all this.

After ordering the weary soldiers to rest following the war with the Tribal Alliance, I pondered how to find them.

Before Ludwig attacked the grasslands again, sparking the third Great War.