440 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 440: A Lone Figure Ascends Clad in the Gold Dragon's Armor Amidst the brutal battlefield, a spectacle unfolded that drew countless eyes: a bluish magical energy painting a radius of tens of meters. "Shoot, shoot!" "Kill him!" "It's the Emperor!" Countless attacks were unleashed towards the source of that power. Most striking among them were the volleys of arrows wrapped in red flames, blue winds, shattered white ice, and bright yellow lightning. It was the attack of the Magic Archers, the pride and the symbol of power of the Linden Kingdom, one of the two strongest western kingdoms on the continent. As nearly a thousand magical arrows filled the sky, the area turned into a living hell. Boom! "Aaah!" "Take cover!" The fiery explosion from the colliding blaze, lightning, wind, and ice was enough to send soldiers on the walls tumbling down. However, to the empire's forces, this was but an opportunity. "Now's the time! Charge!" Seizing the moment when the enemy's main offensive was focusing on the Emperor, the central army knights of the empire swiftly scaled the walls. "Stop them! Hold them back!" "There are too many knights!" "Hold the line!" The tides of battle shifted instantly. The proud twin mage commanders of the Magic Archers, Clarke and Claude, gritted their teeth, bellowing out. "We only need to kill the Emperor!" "Squeeze out all your mana!" Their cries weren't only directed at their subordinates. They themselves were extracting every ounce of power, preparing for a final blow. Whoom. Linden's national treasure—5-class artifact bows made from the horns and tendons of magical beasts—lay in their hands. Mighty artifacts like the "Primordial Lightning" and "Genesis Flames" were imbued with the power of lightning and fire mages, respectively. Bang! With an ear-splitting roar, the yellow and red arrows were released, cutting through the magical bombardments of their peers and hitting the target directly. Flash. Boom!!! A brilliant light momentarily turned the battlefield white, followed by a thunderous noise that swallowed every other sound. All eyes turned towards the source of the explosion. [Impressive, truly. Are you the twin mages?] The Emperor’s voice, sounding slightly weary yet unscathed, emerged uninjured, determining the battle's victor. "His Majesty the Emperor has won!" "Hurrah!" "For the Empire!" The empire's morale soared to the heavens, unlike the crumbling spirits of the Linden soldiers. "How is this possible?" "What kind of monster...?" "We... we must run..." The stark contrast between the empire’s triumphant roars and Linden’s despairing cries was evident. Once more, the Emperor’s indifferent voice echoed across the battlefield. [For daring to challenge the Empire, pay with your lives, Mekido.] In a heartbeat, a massive blue flame engulfed part of the wall. – Aaaah! – Nghaa! The twin mages, their faces twisted in shock, melted away helplessly within the flames, cementing the empire’s triumph. "Aaaah!" "Run, everyone!" "Spare us!" Boom! Crack, crackle. Bang. Within just two weeks of occupying the great city of Grit Heim in the west of the empire, the Linden Kingdom was in ruins. * * * "Well done, Your Majesty." "Our respects to the Emperor!" "Glory to the Empire!" Thunderous cheers resonated within the grand hall of Grit Heim's inner castle as victors consolidated the aftermath. Seated in the place of honor, the Emperor gently lifted his remaining right hand to calm the excitement. "It was merely what had to be done, with the expected outcome." Watching the Emperor's composed expression, the one who had first given respects, the new head of the Royal Special Inspection Bureau, felt a wave of relief. ‘He's finally regained his composure.’ The Emperor, who had been irritable since losing an arm, was no longer present. A gratifying release, like clearing a long-standing burden from his chest since the Battle of Mekline, was palpable. And he was certain that the Emperor, who was slyly smiling, felt similarly. "How are things elsewhere?" "The Sorcerer of the North Wind has reported victory from Lugenheim." "Of course, as expected. How about elsewhere?" "The other fronts are also advancing steadily. However, there are movements hinting that the remaining nations wish to form an alliance." "Tch. As expected." While confirmed victories came from only two places, both the Emperor and his subordinates maintained calm expressions. This was to be expected, as the majority of the superhumans were either in Lugenheim with the North Wind Sorcerer or in the Grit Heim battlefield where the Emperor personally engaged. The goal was to first topple Gaia and Linden, the twin powers of the west. "Your Majesty's strategy was an absolute success. Congratulations." "Congratulations!" At the echoing shouts in the hall, the Emperor nodded with a calm yet slightly flushed expression. The allied forces, numbered at the level of 15 legions, had been reduced by a third. Even if the remaining eight nations all joined forces now, it was believed that the western forces alone could annihilate them. Of course, the remaining 500,000 troops were not to be underestimated, but they would never outmatch the Empire in quality. Thus, the Emperor's attention naturally shifted to other matters. "What of the Sacred Sword's whereabouts?" "…I apologize, Your Majesty." The Royal Special Inspection Bureau Head, commonly known as the Ghost Lord, knelt and bowed down. "Has it yet to be found?" "I apologize, truly." "No, no. If the opponent is the Sacred Sword, it's understandable." The Emperor’s mind was pregnant with confidence, allowing him to speak graciously even in the face of his subordinate's failure. After all, with the Holy Kingdom also on the hunt for the Sacred Sword, using it as leverage against them was hardly feasible. However, the fundamental question remained. ‘Just why did it commit such an act?’ The path of the Sacred Sword was bewildering beyond explanation. Intervening in the Battle of Mekline to oppose the Empire was incomprehensible enough, but then returning home only to effectively assassinate the Pope, the one who could be considered its leader. Even a simple villager could sense the strange path that left a lingering discomfort in the Emperor's heart. 'There must be something more. An underlying movement I'm unaware of...' The idea that the Sacred Sword had simply gone mad, as rumors suggested, never crossed his mind. Having encountered the Sacred Sword firsthand, he recognized it as a being who had nearly traversed the path of an Aura Master—a superhuman of the highest caliber. For someone with such a formidable spirit to suddenly lose their mind seemed highly unlikely; there had to be another reason. Yet, he couldn't grasp any clues whatsoever. "There’s far too little information. Start a thorough investigation from scratch to uncover what has happened inside the Holy Kingdom recently." "Understood." As the leader of the Ghost Division bowed with a short reply. – Your Majesty! Urgent news! A voice rang out urgently from outside the chamber. As the messenger burst in with the news, everyone present in the chamber turned pale with shock. – The Makrain has begun advancing towards the Empire! "This is madness...!" "Those puny nations are growing bold after a single victory!" "Your Majesty, you must return at once!" In the chamber, where the thrill of victory hadn’t yet cooled, the military leaders raised their voices, energizing the room. Whether it was due to the fervor or the resurgence of memories of past defeats, even the Emperor couldn’t help but grit his teeth. "He’s broken through his own defenses? Ha, Logan Makrain must truly have lost his mind!" Oddly enough, a sense of relief washed over him. 'If they've abandoned their grand magic circle, the Eastern Army alone should be able to hold them off.' Even if the situation worsened, they could at least hold the line. After dealing with the smaller threats, they would proceed to punish the Makrain forces. "Prepare to march again! Deal with the Western Alliance swiftly and demonstrate the Empire's might to the presumptuous Makrain!" "Yes, Your Majesty!" As the eight western nations belatedly attempted to unite against the overwhelming might of the Empire's army, the Emperor resolved to gather and crush them at once. This was thought to be the fastest path to ending the war. Just as the Western Eight Nations consolidated their forces, and the imperial western armies and the central forces quickened their advance towards them, horrifying news reached the Empire. – Half of the Eastern Army was annihilated in the Rusfelheim plains by the Makrain forces! The unexpected, shocking defeat, occurring within mere days of the enemy's advance, sent tremors through the empire's leadership. "H-How?" "How do they have such strength without the magic circle?" "What on earth was General Dzipehn doing?" The imperial leadership could not regain their composure. As the chaos grew, the Emperor made a decisive call. "Dispatch all remaining Black Knights to Rusfelheim! I will go as well. Have half of the central army's knights follow me!" The audacious orders surprised his subordinates, eyes wide open. "Your Majesty!" "What about our current front...!?" "I will entrust the subjugation of the remaining Western Eight Nations to Galen." No one dared to oppose his words. "Understood." Among them were Galen, the five remaining Empire's high-ranking mages (two of the Seven Tower Masters had perished in the Makrain), and the five Western legion commanders, including Ivan Rodriguez (5th and 6th legion commanders having perished during the western invasion). "For the glory of the Empire!" Alongside Jerome Dicade, Matt Dickerson, and the remaining five imperial guards—each a superhuman sent to quell western disturbances—they bowed in unison. But just after the decisions were made— "Your Majesty, it's terrible news!" Advertisements A series of reports capable of overturning all previous decisions came pouring in. – A Grand Mage has appeared among the Western Eight Nations' alliance! – Suspected to be the Kassel Tower Master! – Estimated at least four mages under his command, with approximately 300 lesser wizards. Most shocking was the Western Ten Nations’ public defense of Kassel Tower: – Kassel Tower has become a target of the continent’s hegemony due to the Empire's unjust suppression, not for any crime. The misunderstanding in the Holy Kingdom shall be addressed through dialogue with the new Pope. Though the declaration seemed like a mere distraction, to the Empire, it was akin to a catastrophic ambush. The one silver lining was— – The Holy Kingdom has no intention of listening to those defending Kassel Tower. We will purge the demonic sects that mocked the Holy Kingdom and brainwashed our own Karl Harman Killerbrew. The Holy Kingdom indicated its willingness to join the western conflict on the Empire's side. Yet, even this was not enough to extinguish the immediate crisis threatening the Empire. "It will take no less than two months for the Holy Kingdom's forces to join the western front." "And they’ve decided not to support the eastern conflict." The series of unpalatable news made the Emperor press his debilitating headache with a hand. During such a predicament, a secret communication reached the Emperor. [Greetings to the Emperor of the Ares Empire. This seems to be our first encounter, huhu. I may have a proposition to mitigate our current uncomfortable relationship.] The transmission forcefully intruded via the imperial covert communication channel. The message from the notorious enemy of the Empire, Kassel Tower Master, pushed the Emperor to the brink of explosion. "That damned old snake dares...!!!" Rage surged through him to the brink of confronting the communication device, but the ruler of the Empire could not act on emotion alone. [Huhuhu. At least hear me out, Your Majesty. It won’t be a disadvantage to you.] The conversation between the smirking old man and the enraged Emperor continued for a long time.