399 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 399: "If I Ever Call a Dog Cute Again, I'm Not Human." Christian Miller, a supersoldier in the Imperial Guard known as the Phantom Sword, gritted his teeth in resolution. He found himself making the same vow repeatedly in moments of tension, and this was one of those times. He was convinced that anyone subjected to experiences similar to his would develop a severe aversion to dogs. Imagine encountering an ordinary dog, one that doesn't even reach your waist, effortlessly dodging the strikes of an aura wielder's sword. Not only that, but it occasionally thrusts its forepaws or snout threateningly close to your vital points. Experience that a few times, and you'd be traumatized too. However, the most significant issue with this seemingly ordinary mutt was something else entirely. Wham! “Ugh!” The dog, whose front paw barely matched a quarter of Christian’s weight, managed to push him back, sliding him until he hit the wall of the fortress. The fact that the paw of this damned dog, a mere beast's paw with somewhat sharp claws, could not be sliced through even with his aura was no longer surprising. A red aura radiated from the spear, binding the creature in place. Crack. Crrrk. "It won't hold for long! Hurry!" The spear began to crack, and Maxwell's face twisted with strain. Responding to this, two figures sprang out from behind the creature. As Christian's sword emitted a blinding red light that disrupted the monster’s senses, Anthony's axe descended like lightning to strike the beast. The collision was a chaotic mix of three warriors and one monstrous creature. Bang. With a sound fitting for a prank, the creature vanished into thin air, as if it never existed. “What the—!?” “What happened!?” “Errgh!?” The three combatants, suddenly bereft of their target, had to rapidly reduce their force to avoid clashing with each other. But their attacks were delivered with full power, and they were already too close to stop. Boom! “Ugh!” “Eek!” Maxwell, caught in the center of the crossing attacks, staggered under the massive impact. Christian and Anthony also found themselves momentarily frozen by the substantial blow. And at that moment, the creature reappeared mere meters away. Before they could fully regain their senses, the beast, which had only one head, suddenly expanded and split into three. Each head, larger than its body, glared menacingly with two pairs of glowing red eyes. The surreal sight shattered any sense of reality. The three heads, seemingly grinning, opened their mouths simultaneously to unleash a single pulsating beam of light. Boom! A crimson beam, far grander in scale than anything before, surged forward, enveloping the three heroes. Christian’s mind went blank as he faced it. "This can't be...!?" Desperately trying to muster all his strength to move, the energy of the aura knocked him back, making it impossible to dissipate the force. The timing of the creature's evasion and counterattack was perfect—it was a split-second reaction. Crash. “Aaaaaah!” Where the crimson beam passed, nothing remained. Maxwell was nowhere to be seen, and Anthony Brown, far from his title of Berserker, let out an agonized scream. Even with his lower half completely obliterated, the fact that he had the strength and vitality left to scream was either a blessing or a curse. Christian couldn’t tell. Nor did he have the luxury to ponder. Though he barely managed to protect his head, the entire right side of his body from shoulder to below the waist had been ripped away. “Ha, haah…” I am the Phantom Sword of the Empire. Am I really going to die such a ridiculous death? Facing the end of his life, bewilderment was the only thing that surged through his mind. Even if you set aside the staggering laser breath that was on a different level in both scale and destructive power from before, A mere beast was performing spatial relocation—something said to challenge even the most legendary archmages without thorough preparation. And at such an opportune moment, mocking them. Had he known earlier, could he have prepared for it? The power of this mythical creature, rare even in ancient times, left only frustration and questions as the last remnants of life slipped away from the superhuman’s grasp. Witnessing the downfall of such a formidable adversary, the final descendant of the divine beasts and the king of monsters howled to the sky. – Awooooooo! * * * The outcome of the battles in the north and south quickly reached Kyle Castle. Of course, even before then, Logan had found out about the results of the southern engagement and was chastising one of his most trusted allies. "I told you not to transform! How many times have I said not to expose your demonic energy...?" – It's fine. Just a bit. "A bit?! I saw everything, you know! Did you forget we're sharing senses!?" – Dunno. Bored. “Ha… This is unbelievable.” Interrupting his spirit communication with Tyr, Logan shuddered. Next to him, Eillen tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s wrong?” “Oh, nothing. It’s just Tyr being… well, himself.” “Hmm?” Under the questioning gaze of his wife, Logan became aware of the curious eyes on him. Inside the cramped command tent on the battlefield, the entire leadership of the 1st Legion, faces flushed with excitement, waited for him. “Ahem… It's nothing. Perhaps I've been overly sensitive on such a good day.” Awkwardly smiling, Logan shook his head to dispel thoughts of Tyr and turned to his commanders. “Ahem, continue with the report.” “Yes, Your Majesty. According to the news from the northern and southern fortresses…” As his words continued, smiles began to spread across the faces of all present. * Armies – Estimated casualty count: 50,000 killed or severely wounded from the Empire's 200,000 troops, resulting in the equivalent of one legion being crushed. – 10,000 McLine Army casualties estimated. 5,000 Liberty reinforcements casualties estimated.* Superhuman Forces – 1st Legion Commander Jamie Gillan killed by the Sword Duke. Imperial Guard superhuman Melvin Try died. – Crimson Reaper Burdel and reinforcement commander Gunter Liberty severely injured. In the northern battle, they brought down two enemy superhumans and decimated a quarter of the enemy's forces. Despite facing more than double their own numbers, they achieved a sweeping victory. Remarkably, compared to the triumphant news from the south, these accomplishments seemed minor. * Armies – Estimated casualty count: 70,000 killed or severely wounded from the Empire's 200,000 troops, resulting in the equivalent of two legions being crushed. – 15,000 McLine Army casualties estimated. 8,000 Teronan reinforcements casualties estimated. * Superhuman Forces – In the battle against the mythical beast Tyr, Imperial Guard superhumans Christian Miller, Anthony Brown, and 5th Legion Commander Maxwell Cutter perished. – 8th Legion Commander Bering Gruter was killed in a joint victory by Wicken Kalia and Gustav Klemen. – Supreme Commander Matt Dickerson was critically injured, his status unknown, and retreated (engaged by Victor). – 6th Legion Commander Cedric Furkerson was slain by Ronian MacLine. – Zero casualties among our superhumans (Victor sustained severe injuries but is recovering quickly). With nearly 30% of the enemy forces decimated, five enemy superhumans killed, and one left in an uncertain state, the northern front achieved a resounding victory. Among the Empire's superhumans, only Graeme Turner, the 7th Legion Commander, who faced off against the impenetrable Teronan, Latin Lawrence, returned unharmed. It was an overwhelmingly decisive victory. “The results from the southern fortress are remarkable.” “Should this glory be awarded to Duke MacLine? Or perhaps to Prince Ronian?” “Ahaha, does it really matter?” The command tent buzzed with chatter. Observing Logan's reaction, the commanding officers raised their voices with enthusiasm, encouraged by their lord's lack of reprimand. It was a victory deserving of such celebration. And though somewhat overshadowed by the news from the south, the achievements at Kyle Castle were equally impressive. * Armies – From the Imperial Central Army's 150,000 troops, approximately 30,000 casualties are estimated (including about a thousand magical corps). – Estimated 30,000 casualties among the MacLine militia. 5,000 among regular forces. * Superhuman Forces – Greg Marvin, the magician of blazing flame, killed. – Celine Bauter, the magician of earthquakes, and Lexi Lindermann, the magician of tidal waves, severely injured. – The Empire’s top sword master, Sword Soul Triss Hornsby, killed. – No casualties among our superhumans. “We have achieved victory in the initial battles across all three fronts! The enemy has suffered at least a 20% loss in forces and has retreated!” “Hurrah!” The cheers spoke volumes. Even though Kyle Castle had suffered the most damage among the three fronts, its symbolic victory carried greater weight. 'Because we defeated the Sword Soul.' The thrill of exchanging the final blows with him lingered in his fingers. Remembering that sensation, reaching a legendary level was only a matter of time. ‘And when that time comes…’ As Logan reflected on the recent battles and replayed the moves in his mind, the voices inside the tent grew louder. “It’s all thanks to His Majesty!” “Glory to MacLine!” “Hail Emperor Logan MacLine!” Amidst the praises showered upon Logan, whose face was still alight with excitement, his wife whispered with a gentle nudge. “Say something.” Encouraged by Eillen's warm smile, Logan caught his thoughts, took a deep breath, and rose to his feet. The previously bustling voices quickly quelled as everyone looked to him with fervent anticipation. Meeting the eyes of Eillen, Clayton, Victoria, Jorge, and the commanders of the 1st Legion one by one, Logan broke the brief silence. “Today, we have won!” With just those simple words, the tent erupted in jubilant chaos once more. “Glory to MacLine!” “We’ve won!” “Thanks to His Majesty!” “And what about us?” “We did great too!” Laughter and joy spread rapidly. “Quiet, quiet!” “His Majesty wishes to speak…!” “Everyone, settle down!” Some commanders tried to regain order, but Logan simply went with the flow. After all, no one was happier about their victory than he was. “Yes. It’s all thanks to me.” “Yes! Indeed!” “And it’s all thanks to all of you!” “That’s true too!” Laughter rang out again at Clayton’s sudden, enthusiastic agreement. “Yes. Together, you and I achieved this.” Logan wished he could articulate something more eloquent, but poignant words eluded him. Only overwhelming emotions welled within him. His lifelong goal, the resolution of past grievances, seemed within grasp, drawing a vivid picture right before his eyes. However. ‘Not yet, it’s not over yet.’ Logan calmed his racing heart. This hard-won triumph, where everything had seamlessly aligned like a miracle, wasn’t a fluke. Since his return, nothing had unfolded this seamlessly before. Thus, he needed to remain even more vigilant. Logan decided to let his heated passion cool just a little longer. “But remember, the war is not over yet.” “Yes!” “The Empire will not retreat easily.” “We understand!” “Do not forget today’s victory and prepare for tomorrow’s battle. With that preparation, we will keep winning tomorrow and the day after.” “Yes!” “Good. Today, honor the fallen and provide the soldiers with ale and meat. But only one cup. Anyone who lets down their guard in the joy of victory will face severe consequences!” “Yes!” “Revel in our victory, but stay vigilant against the enemy! When we secure total victory, I will share this glory with all of you!” “Long live!” “Honor to the Sun of MacLine!” “Glory to the Eternal Flame!” The roaring cheers emanating from the small tent soon echoed throughout the entire fortress.