308 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

**Chapter 308: Thundering Hooves** Horses galloped furiously across the plains, their thundering hooves shaking the ground as a vast army, numbering in the thousands, moved in perfect unison beneath the small flame banner. “Charge!” yelled the knight leading the charge, clad in full armor. At his command, a thousand mounted knights broke away from the formation, leading the charge. As they charged, the knights brandished their lances, each stretching a formidable three meters in length. A blue light shimmered from their arms, waists, and swords, enhancing their strength and sharpening their lance tips. Witnessing the entire regiment awash in a blue glow was a mesmerizing sight that drew gasps of awe from the crossbowmen following behind them. “Wow!” Even before its effectiveness could be measured, the visual spectacle alone served to exponentially raise the army's morale. Boom! Transformed into the spears of blue giants, the knights advanced, decimating the straw dummies scattered across the fields. Scattered dummies that the knights missed were swiftly felled by volleys of quarrels from the crossbowmen that followed. “Impressive,” remarked a middle-aged man with red hair and red eyes, nodding with a satisfied smile at the scene. Standing just behind him, a middle-aged man with an unusual metallic prosthetic arm glinting in the sunlight responded with a grin. “According to the original plan, we were supposed to deploy the Liberatio first. However, due to its cost, it has been reserved solely for regular training sessions.” “Understandable. Still, the effectiveness of the artifact exceeds expectations.” “Yes, the system of distributing one artifact per knight's guild has been fully established. As you can see, the additional effects are considerable.” “You mean boosting our forces' morale?” “Yes, not to mention that the artifact's actual utility seems to be enhanced.” “What?” “At first, the knights thought it was just the psychological effect of the visual spectacle, but over time, they noticed a clear enhancement. After conducting an inquiry with the cavalry regiment, the facts were confirmed.” “So they truly gained power?” “Yes. According to Count Clayton, since all our regiment's knights were granted artifacts of the same kind, a sort of resonance effect occurred, doubling efficiency when many knights cast the same type of spell simultaneously.” “Interesting.” “Count Clayton expressed gratitude, saying this newfound synergy has advanced the work commissioned by His Majesty. Our regiment achieved something remarkable once again.” “A commission? What task?” “They claim it's confidential and were unwilling to divulge details.” Though there was a flicker of dissatisfaction on the face of the middle-aged man, Heinkel, upon hearing this, Padric simply smiled and nodded. “Well, I’m sure Logan will handle it. We're no longer in a position to just look after our own territory. No need to feel slighted.” “Oh, no way. Feeling slighted? How could I possibly…?” As Padric laughed heartily, he observed his old friend waving his hand dismissively. “Thinking back, even when he was in the territory, he often worked alone. Just because he's become king doesn't mean those habits have changed.” “Ah, now that I think about it, you're right. I did overstep.” Overstep? He had thought he’d long overcome the sense of inadequacy from losing his prowess, but it seemed that wasn't the case yet. Padric turned his head so as not to reveal his sour expression, switching the topic. “Anything else to report?” “This month alone, 32 soldiers awakened to their powers.” “Again?” “Yes. Among the soldiers His Majesty initially recruited, over 300 have awakened their powers. They too are participating in training right now.” No wonder the number of knights seemed larger than expected. “Our regiment must be overwhelming in terms of sheer numbers of knights.” Padric couldn't hide his broad smile, and a similar smile spread across Heinkel’s face as he reported. “Yes. Aside from the royal first regiment and our third, it’s only been a few years since new recruitment standards were implemented.” “Indeed. But who knows what the future holds after a few more years.” “Even in a few years, the same will hold true. The majority of those who survived the wars with His Majesty are part of the first and third regiments. Such experience cannot be replicated through mere training.” Heinkel’s pride in the third regiment seemed to surpass even Padric’s. “Yes, indeed. We are truly the elite of Mekline. Hahaha.” Gleeful, Padric heartily clapped his old friend and vassal on the shoulder. Feeling a hard texture beneath his hand, his expression momentarily hardened. “…Sorry about that.” “It’s fine, my lord. How much longer must we go through this dance? If you continue, I’ll only feel more embarrassed.” “Even if no one else remembers, I cannot forget the arm you lost saving my life…” It seemed they would revisit the same old conversation as countless times before. Heinkel noted the somber expression on his lord's face and hastened to change the subject. “By the way, what have you decided about the family crest? You mentioned it was time to make a decision.” Padric answered with a small sigh. Now that Mekline’s flame had become a symbol of the kingdom, there were frequent calls for changing the family crest and surname. Reducing the size of the emblem hadn't quelled those demands entirely. “…No matter how much I think about it, I can’t bring myself to change it.” “Pardon?” “I’ll just leave it to Ronian, that rascal, who’ll inherit the family.” “My lord…” Heinkel looked at Padric, utterly speechless, as Padric brazenly laughed it off. With his eldest son now a king, even if the family emblem changed, Mekline’s flame would continue alongside the nation. But as a lord and knight who had lived his life defending that flame, he couldn't bring himself to change the family crest with his own hands, even if it meant holding on to a stubborn, pointless attachment. “Well, it’s time to inspect the soldiers’ training?” “Yes. And it’s also time for you to return to the estate.” “What?” “There's word that the young lord who went to the capital will be arriving today. Lady Merian is planning to host a small party, and she insisted you return promptly.” "Oh, I’ve already heard. Honestly, when has Ronian ever come back without a celebration?" "Given how long she waited, fretting, it's understandable. You should really cut her some slack.” “Ha? Are you taking her side now? Just because he's the youngest doesn't mean you should always indulge him.” “Why is it indulgence for a child? It's the parent’s indulgence. Anyway, leave the cleanup to me and head back.” “Fine, fine. I get it.” With a smile, Padric started to turn away, catching a glimpse of the sunset sky. In these times where everything was going smoothly, enjoying luxuries unimaginable seven or eight years ago, there was still an inevitable emptiness in his heart. “A family party... It would be nice if Logan could join us.” He knew it was a foolish thought. While the youngest had returned home after years of training, the eldest had long since ventured to a place beyond his reach. “If only I had been kinder to him in his youth.” The thought of keeping a strict distance, believing he needed to raise his motherless child sternly, left a sour taste in his mouth today more than ever. To Padric, the king, known as the Sun of Mekline, was simply his eldest son—a son whose face he could hardly see anymore. For a moment, the sun in the sky, shining over everything, felt uncomfortably burdensome. “Reina... Our son has grown so exceptionally well, too well perhaps.” It was one of those days when his late wife was particularly on his mind. And that's how the day ended for this father. --- “The regiment’s training is proceeding smoothly and even expanding continually. In Mekline, over 300 soldiers selected by His Majesty have already become knights. There’s unanimous confidence in our recruitment standards now.” “The first phase of large-scale artifact distribution is complete, and with the synchronization effect upon simultaneous activation, the overall strength of the knightly order has significantly improved.” “Excellent.” The enduring growth of the regiment, the foundation of Mekline's power, filled Logan with pride. In addition to that, “There’s a report from the dispatched knights that the vigilante training has now found its footing. The officially counted vigilante forces number over 500,000.” An overwhelming reserve force, over twice the size of the regular army. Feeling an emerging sense of security, Logan reviewed the forces he had meticulously built. “The battalion system is firmly established now.” The once-scattered territorial forces had been consolidated into battalions under a singular command, and potential hindrances in the east had been definitively secured as allies. One of the superhumans he had once fought as an Imperial mercenary in his past life was now an ally; the rest had been eliminated. The noble hunter, who had been a chronic internal threat to Grandilia, was now his faithful bodyguard, and the surviving superhumans were growing step by step within an increasingly unified kingdom. His brother, whom he worried about the most, had also surpassed expectations, mastering skills not previously seen in his past life. And his sister, Eileen, who had died in the first civil war of the previous life, had awakened as a superhuman. Mekline's superhuman forces had far exceeded expectations. “I’ve done everything possible up to this point.” He felt proud of his achievements, yet Logan steeled himself once more. “Even so, we’re still at a disadvantage.” In his past life, Grandilia had been absorbed after suffering devastating losses at the hands of six of the eight eastern divisions of the Empire and a portion of the central forces. If the Empire’s might remained unchanged in this life, he thought he could somehow prevail. “...That’s unlikely.” “Pardon?” “No, never mind.” Shaking his head to dispel his thoughts, Logan organized his mind again. The Emperor wasn’t a fool and wouldn't act the same way again. “They’ll likely mobilize all eight eastern divisions this time and send a larger contingent of the central forces. If unlucky, western divisions may join the fray as well.” Listing it all made the situation seem daunting again, forcing Logan to reaffirm his resolve. This led him to consider supplemental strategies to bridge the gap. “Have there been other reports from Count Clayton?” “His Majesty requested a direct report on that matter.” Chancellor Roberts Ploy glanced at his son-in-law and sovereign inquisitively. Logan, with a slightly awkward smile, turned his gaze. “Ah, yes. Let's wrap up for today then. You’ve all worked hard.” “Your Majesty.” “Yes?” “If public duties have ended, may I ask something on a personal note?” “Well... you may, father-in-law.” Calling him “father-in-law” always brought a broad smile to Roberts' face. However, what he asked next left Logan puzzled. “Regarding the items that the ministers and I presented to you, I wonder if you’ve found them useful…” Trailing off, Roberts had a conspiratorial glint in his eye, yet Logan couldn’t quite recall. He hazarded a guess. “Could it be something that happened in my absence?” If significant, Rick or Dwayne would’ve mentioned it, surely. Assuming it was a trivial matter, Logan nodded lightly. “Yes. They have been quite useful.” “Really now? Then I shall look forward to hearing good news soon?” What could he possibly mean? Logan’s expression showed a hint of confusion just as a voice from outside the office saved him. “Count Damian Nadal has requested an audience.” “Father-in-law, if you’ll excuse me…” “Yes, yes. I shall take my leave.” Though Dean’s reports went directly to the king, Roberts slowly turned, barely masking his disappointment. Just then, Damian entered the office, his expression far from pleasant. Before Logan could even inquire about the reason, Damian quickly blurted out, "Your Majesty, news from the Empire. The second prince..."