439 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 439: The Unthinkable Became Reality To the Empire, the invasion of MacLaine was just that kind of unthinkable event. Particularly for Zippen Tray, the current commander of the Empire's 2nd Eastern Legion and the prospective 1st Legion commander after the war, it was akin to being hit by a bolt from the blue. Moreover... "The main forces from Kyle Fortress and the northern and southern strongholds are heading towards our legion's garrison! They're moving in the directions of the 2nd and 3rd Legions, 1st and 6th Legions, respectively." "These insane fools! They're courting their own doom!" An infuriated Zippen shouted in anger. "If they've crawled out of their nests, we should crush them. Gather the troops! Show them how empty a victory won through magic circles and natural disasters truly is! Request reinforcements from Rufselheim!" "That's... The enemy's advance is unusually fast. There's a high probability their offensive will begin before Rufselheim's forces arrive!" "What!?" Since the loss in the MacLaine War, the Eastern Legions' strength had been more than halved for a long time. Even if they gathered all remaining forces and included the troops from the now leaderless Eastern Wing, they barely amassed the strength of five legions. "What about the enemy's forces!?" "The fortress forces heading towards the 1st and 6th Legions are about 50,000 to 60,000 strong, around 30,000 MacLaine troops are coming to Lupen, and about 50,000 troops from other small nations are heading towards the 3rd Legion's garrison." "What...?" His head throbbed painfully. The 1st, 3rd, and 6th Legions were nothing but leaderless remnants at this point. Orders to recruit new soldiers at each garrison had been issued to replenish their numbers, but the timeframe was too short. The newly recruited soldiers would be lucky if they weren't a hindrance in battle. Essentially, he faced an enemy several times larger with only 20,000 troops. There was one thing that nagged at him, though. "…Only 30,000 coming here?" It was a very odd number. Why would they send the smallest force to where he, relatively intact, was stationed? It was either a discarded maneuver or a low-probability bet. Instead, if he ignored the coalition of minor nations, intercepted the force heading with the 3rd Legion here, and regrouped elsewhere... "That's because the enemy king, presumed to be an aura master, is included in the forces coming this way." …Damn it. Zippen immediately discarded the counterattack plan he had envisioned. "…All Eastern forces, including ours, all legions in garrison, retreat to Rufselheim. Gather the troops from the Eastern Wing there as well!" "Sir, that's overstepping…" "I will take responsibility. Shut up and do as I say!" "Yes! Understood." "In Rufselheim, I will rely on our numerical advantage." Although they lacked the enemy's great weapon, the red stone, the Empire did have its own repeating crossbows. And due to their characteristics, crossbows were less effective in targeting enemies in high positions from low ground. Just as the enemy had thoroughly used fortifications once dismissed as nearly useless in the age of rampant knights, it was their turn to take advantage of it. 'We just need to hold out. Until His Majesty returns from conquering the west.' Anyone hearing such a conservative plan from someone who had initially reacted with furious shouting might have been surprised. Yet, anything was better than dying. Despite having spent his life wielding nothing but spears, Zippen was a commander of the Empire's legions. He might uphold his pride, but he was not foolish. At least, that was what he believed himself to be. Up until a week later, when he joined all his forces in a field three days away from Rufselheim. "Our imperial army is truly well-drilled." The fields were filled with allied forces. The army lined up around the setting sun showed no signs of disorder. At Zippen Tray's content smile, his subordinates nodded in agreement. "Indeed. The discipline of our Empire remains strong." Even though they had been at different distances, the timing that led the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 6th Legions to converge towards Rufselheim was unexpected. But that satisfaction would last only a few hours. "The enemy is now only half a day's distance away…" "They're hot on our tails!" Inside the main tent of the encampment set up on the field for a night bivouac, the high-ranking knights temporarily in command wore dark expressions as they reported, making Zippen's face stiffen. "…Larry. What is the current position of Logan MacLaine?" At Zippen's menacing tone, his officer Larry suddenly turned pale as something dawned on him. "…Estimated to be about half a day's distance from our main body." The chilling atmosphere inside the tent froze at his words. Bang! "Dammit!! A trap…? You call this a trap? A manipulation of tens of thousands of troops? Against the proud Ares Empire's army!?" The response to Zippen's enraged shout came from just outside the tent. – Sir! An officer urgently burst into the tent, panting out his report. "The consolidated enemy forces have suddenly increased their advance!" Everyone's expressions turned to stone. "The sun is about to set?" "At this hour!?" "Pack up the tents! We'll retreat overnight! Inform Drexler and Bering to immediately leave Rufselheim as well!" As Zippen's commands echoed, the Empire's army began moving hastily. * * * "Well done, Damian. Leave the rest to me." "Yes, Your Majesty. Haha." Despite Damian's smile, he looked pale. With good reason. A mere civilian with no access to force or mana, he had endured over a week of little sleep orchestrating the movements of hundreds of thousands of troops. And this included analyzing the enemy's reactions through spies, issuing detailed instructions. After assigning Damien a bodyguard and sending him off to rest, Logan surveyed his surroundings once again. Fluttering. Several riders were approaching in unison, as if they had deliberately timed it. "Your Majesty, you look healthy, thankfully." "Yes, thanks to your concern." To his right, his teacher, who seemed to have fully recovered his color, greeted him with a smile. "It has been a 'truly' long time, Your Majesty." "...I'm sorry for not visiting more often, Father." "No, Father. Apparently, His Majesty was also injured quite severely." "That's why it's even more... Ahem, since His Majesty is so busy, perhaps I should make an effort to visit more frequently." "Father!" On the left, his father and younger brother were engaging in a rare moment of banter. "The female soldiers have been thoroughly inspected. The drop-out rate is lower than that of the main forces." "The magic battalion is also still intact. We can march immediately." Then, his wife and Victoria reported back after inspecting the female soldiers and the magic battalion, while Tyr nudged Victoria's robe playfully, comforting her. "Woof!" With a gesture that seemed to say "trust me" or "don't worry," Tyr confidently raised its head, bringing a slight smile to Victoria's tense face. Tyr, with a proud posture, then trotted over to Aileen, wagging its tail like a propeller, leaping up and down. It wasn’t until Aileen petted its head and tickled its belly that Tyr settled down. 'When it’s like that, it really just seems like a puppy...' Just as Logan was giving Tyr an incredulous look, an even more astonishing scene unfolded behind him. "Long time no see, scrawny. You look even thinner—the things down below still functional in the morning?" "Chunkhead, you've become a legion commander and still talk like that? Especially in front of His Majesty!" Old rivals from Grancia, reuniting after a long time, were about to exchange greetings with Logan but ended up grabbing each other's collars instead. Burdell and Victor, clicking their tongues at the sight, felt Logan's gaze and respectfully bowed their heads. Following them, a well-respected aura user got off his horse, bowed at a 90-degree angle, and greeted with the utmost courtesy. "Nice to meet you for the first time. I'm Latin Lawrence of Terronan, greeting the Sun of MacLaine." The mage from the former Kingdom of Karon, now Terronan, who had been glaring at Aileen, noticed Logan's gaze and quickly bowed respectfully as well. Both the aura user known as the Iron Wall and the magician demonstrated their utmost respect. For Logan though, beyond their formal demeanors, the words they used overwhelmed him significantly. 'Conqueror of the East.' The forces gathered here today were indeed the elite of the Eastern continent. And it was he who had brought them all together. In that context, it wasn't entirely inaccurate to say so. "We still have to settle things with the Empire first," he muttered purposely aloud, as if steeling his resolve. 'The primary target is Rufselheim. Before that...' The plan was to capture the divided forces of the Eastern Legions. Clang. With determination, Logan drew his sword and pointed it at the setting sun with its tip. In that moment, everyone’s attention was riveted on him. "Within a day, we will overtake the fleeing invaders and hold them accountable for trespassing into MacLaine!" His thunderous voice resonated across the plains, reaching the ears of his hundreds of thousands of troops. "Follow me!" "Uwaaaaah!" With a flood of cheers, the massive forces of MacLaine began their advance. Though weariness had accumulated from nearly ten days of pursuit, the memory of countless comrades falling in battle fueled them with a rage and a thirst for revenge that surpassed any form of rest. Additionally... [The left flank is slightly delayed. Adjust your pace.] Whenever fatigue set in, the telepathic command of their sovereign reverberated in their minds, sharpening their focus. It was as if the king was bellowing orders right in front of them. No soldier remained unfocused in the face of such an intimidating presence. "His Majesty is watching over me!" That tension served as a potent stimulant, more effective than any drug. Indeed, the mental wave carried a subtle aura-enhancing energy that even made some soldiers feel as if their exhaustion was truly being lifted. In this context, "Doctors of the Healer's Guild" periodically spread divine energy to rejuvenate the weary troops. "May the gods bless us..." The last official command issued by the missing Saintess bolstered the MacLaine soldiers’ strength to keep advancing. Even so, the relentless overnight march had taken its toll, maxing out their fatigue, but the reward was yet to come. As dawn broke, and they spotted the enemy forces, visibly more exhausted than themselves, in the distance. "There they are!" "The Imperial army!" What had been a grueling ordeal became a moment of renewed fury, infusing strength back into their otherwise shaky legs. "Advance!" And as their sovereign, the continent's most formidable superhuman, charged forward radiating a golden aura from the very front— "Uwaaaah!" With a roar that shook the earth, MacLaine's massive army surged towards the retreating Imperial forces. "Counter, counterattack! Turn around, everyone!" A pale-faced Zippen Tray spun his horse, lance in hand. Though the spear, honed through a lifetime, felt unusually heavy at that moment, he clung to the hope that his weapon would prevail. 'Even against an aura master...' He knew it was an absurd hope. Yet unless he convinced himself of it, he felt he might break down first. "Knights, turn around! We will break their front line!" Yelling himself hoarse, Zippen led his closest aides as they charged ahead. What he saw then was catastrophic... Ka-boom! "Ahhh!" "S-save me!" In a barrage of explosions, the bodies of countless allies were blown away, followed by a deluge of black quarrels. "Damn it! Fire back! Fire!" "Screeeam!" "Aaaah!" "R-run...!" Unable to even properly use their matching weapons, troops fell, transformed into pincushions by enemy projectiles, right before Zippen's eyes. Under the pressure of an overnight escape, the esteemed discipline of the Imperial troops had already crumbled upon first encountering the enemy. In the midst of the chaos— [I've found you.] A low voice pierced through the battlefield's tumult, seemingly striking directly into Zippen's ears. In his alarmed gaze, he saw a golden rider closing the distance at a staggering speed. "Damn it!" It was too late to dodge. Zippen forcibly exhaled the fear welling up inside him, along with a curse. 'I am Zippen Tray, the master of Gyeogchang.' Even an aura master can't beat me in a cavalry charge. He bolstered his courage with a lie he couldn't even convince himself of, then began to accelerate toward the rapidly approaching golden light. Boom. His trusted steed, infused with his red aura, surged forward as if to shatter the ground beneath. Thud, thud, thud. "I am Zippen...!" As a streak of red meteoric light, Zippen collided head-on with the golden comet advancing several times faster. – CRASH! In an instant, he was reduced to a spray of crimson across the battlefield. "The enemy commander has fallen!" Logan's shout reverberated across the battlefield, further accelerating the already tipping scales of battle. "The commander is down...!" "Everyone retreat!" "Aaagh!" Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate for Zippen that he never witnessed the collapse of the legion he dedicated his life to—the imperial army crumbling disgracefully—remains unknown. The renewed war between MacLaine and the Empire set the world ablaze, beginning with the annihilation of the Empire's Eastern 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 6th Legions.