Chapter 704

The news of Or-han’s death had undoubtedly spread beyond the city.

It was clear as day. The battlefield below was an absolute mess.

Ibamai and Valkyrie were still fighting, each missing an arm, stabbing at each other with spears.

Valkyrie aside, Ibamai was now down to just one remaining limb—his right arm.

He looked like he belonged in an ICU rather than a battlefield, but the ferocity in his spear strikes was still unmatched.

“Not yet. It’s not over yet! You think I’ll let it end like this?!”

No, it wasn’t just ferocity—it was desperation.

The deaths of Or-han and Hatan had clearly shaken him, and his shouts were filled with a rage that seemed to spit blood.

“Takmarka. Yfirvofandi.”

Valkyrie’s soft reply was surrounded by the torn-apart corpses of the Black Armies.

It seemed Ibamai couldn’t win alone, so the Black Armies warriors must have tried to gang up on her… and it worked, to some extent. Valkyrie’s left arm and right wing were severed.

To achieve that against a hero-level female warrior who could fly into the sky at will? Truly worthy of Ka`har’s elite.

Though the cost was immense.

Whether it was Valkyrie’s storm spear or the madness of the People of Dane charging in like bullets, the Black Armies’ numbers had visibly dwindled.

The remaining forces were roughly two thousand, maybe two thousand five hundred if you included those who lost their horses.

Still a formidable force, but considering the Black Armies originally numbered eight thousand, the losses were devastating.

“Westerners…!”

Of course, the Dane defense forces had also suffered near-total annihilation.

The battlefield was literally a lake of blood. If all those corpses had ascended to the Heavenly Palace, it would be overflowing with new residents by now.

And… the world would become even more perilous.

The death toll from this war far surpassed even the Empire’s civil war. If the Apostles wanted, they could easily shatter another layer of the Heavenly Barrier.

—

Unlike Ibamai, who was too busy fighting Valkyrie to command, the enemy commander seemed to have the capacity to regroup his forces.

The surviving Dane soldiers had gathered into a circular formation, making their last stand, but they numbered less than a thousand.

However, the enemy commander showed no intention of regrouping.

“I’ll kill them all! Every last one of them!”

…It seemed he wasn’t even thinking about it.

By Ka`har standards, he was utterly insane, raging and thrashing about. It looked like he was about to charge into the city, which, from their perspective, was now a gateway to the afterlife.

“Ha-shal-leurrrr! You filthy traitor! How dare you kill my fatherrrr!”

…Mentioning his father, he must be one of Or-han’s children.

What did Hersela say again…?

Targien is a mad dog, Sahallyeon is a snake-headed rat, and Amin is just a dog.

So that must be Targien.

“Lord Targien! You mustn’t! Charging now would be suicide!”

“What does it matter?!”

He really was like a mad dog.

He couldn’t even tell where his death awaited him.

If I capture him, maybe Hersela will feel better…?

She must be furious since she couldn’t finish off Or-han herself and had to sleep.

“Targien! It’s been a year!”

I shouted from the city walls, waving my right arm so he could see.

Even I couldn’t charge into an enemy formation of thousands of Black and Enemy Armies in my current state, so I planned to taunt him into coming to me.

“So you were there, Ha-shal-leurrrr!!”

“How’ve you been? Is your mother doing well?”

“You… you traitorous b****!!”

Targien’s face turned red with rage. It looked like he might explode any second.

I laughed, lifting my Red Scale Saber to show off.

“I’d love to take you to your father’s grave, but I’m a bit tied up right now. How about a hug instead? Like siblings!”

“Grrrr…!”

He’s foaming at the mouth.

Hersela’s description was spot on. A complete mad dog.

“Enemy Army, prepare to charge! I’ll tear that traitor apart alive!”

Targien pointed his dao at me and shouted.

Good. Come this way.

I’ll burn them all to ash the moment they arrive, except for you.

I licked my lips and smiled.

Facing them on the plains would be tricky, but a narrow castle gate? No fear, even if it’s Ka`har’s cavalry.

“You mustn’t! Please calm down!”

But the middle-aged man next to Targien desperately tried to stop him.

He must have reached the level of a Paladin, as Targien couldn’t shake him off and just kept yelling.

“Let go of me, Mersin!”

Ah. That face looked familiar.

Mersin, who, like Ja-han, had served as a White Tiger Commander in Hersela’s guard.

I heard he betrayed her when I defected to the Empire, but it seems he crawled under Targien.

I thought he was smart, so why’d he choose this path of suffering?

“Mersin? You became a Paladin? I should treat you to a drink to celebrate!”

Unfortunately, Mersin didn’t react to my taunts, focusing solely on restraining Targien. He seemed to have shut his ears completely.

Well, he’s smart enough to know that falling for my taunts now would be the end. Too bad.

“Even Kagan couldn’t defeat that monster! What chance do you have?!”

“So I’m just supposed to stand by and watch?! Even if I die, I’ll—!”

“Think of the future! If you fall, what will become of Ai-shan? Have you forgotten Sahallyeon?!”

Sahallyeon. At that name, Targien’s eyes widened. As if he’d just remembered.

I thought he was willing to hand over all of Or-han’s legacy to his half-brother just to get revenge on me, but it seems he’d completely forgotten in his rage.

Hersela was hot-headed, but this is on another level.

—

Anyway, Mersin’s persuasion seemed to work.

“Right, Sahallyeon. That bastard Sahallyeon…! Damn it…! Damn it all…!”

Targien gritted his teeth, trembling, but turned his head away from me.

“All forces, prepare to retreat! All remaining Paladins, support War Chief Ibamai! We must retreat before the Empire pushes us back!”

At Targien’s command, the Ai-shan soldiers, though somewhat bewildered, began to turn their horses and distance themselves from the Dane forces.

The surviving Paladins—Targien, Mersin, and three others—rushed toward Ibamai.

“Lord Targien! Don’t come! I’ll hold this monster off while you retreat—!”

“Do you think I can just abandon my last War Chief?!”

Ibamai shouted that he’d sacrifice himself to hold the enemy off, but Targien refused, pulling out a bow and firing arrows at Valkyrie.

To others, it must have looked like a loyal bond between commander and warrior.

But from my perspective…

‘They’re really going at it. Who said I’d let them go peacefully?’

[…….]

I muttered out of habit, but there was no response. Hersela was asleep.

Lately, she’s been sleeping all the time, like the Sleeping Beauty of the forest.

Anyway, I put down my Red Scale Saber and picked up a spear leaning on the city wall, aiming at Ibamai. I had no intention of letting Ai-shan’s main forces return to the grasslands.

The distance was a bit far, so I wasn’t sure if I’d hit.

Frederick could’ve taken out Ibamai, Valkyrie, Targien, and the other Paladins in one go… but he’s already dead. I missed him anew.

“Wouldn’t it be better to let them retreat?”

As I steadied my breathing and pulled the spear back, Shane cautiously asked.

“Let them run after we’ve got them cornered?”

Shane nodded.

“Yes. Lord of the Borderlands once said that if we succeed in killing Or-han and the enemy retreats, we should let them return to the grasslands. They’ll tear themselves apart in civil war and decline.”

…That made sense.

Given Targien’s temper, he’d probably start a war with his brother the moment he returned to the grasslands.

Letting them go would weaken their forces on their own.

“We don’t have the strength to stop their retreat anyway. The Imperial Army is exhausted, and if we recklessly pursue the retreating Ka`har, who knows what could happen.”

True, they’re experts at shooting arrows while retreating. Though it seems they’re running low on arrows.

“Hmm….”

I pondered for a moment, weighing the risks and benefits of letting them go.

“……Fine, let’s do that.”

And with that, I lowered my spear.

The war between the Empire and Ka`har had come to an end.