Sword Star (2) - Chapter 109: Hours Before the Empire's Retreat News
A few hours before the news spread that the Empire was retreating.
“Hoo…”
Marquis Gunror let out a deep sigh as he pondered how to proceed with the war ahead.
Originally, command should have fallen to Agnar Balderte, leader of the “Iron Warriors” Knight Order, but he had lost an arm and seemed to have completely lost his will to fight.
It was understandable. The marquis himself had trained lightly with the sword, so he knew better than anyone the importance of one's arms in swordsmanship. Even Agnar Balderte might overcome it eventually, but it was only natural that it would be difficult right now.
And so, with no other choice, Marquis Gunror had to take the lead in the upcoming battles.
Seated alone in his tent, the marquis mulled things over deeply.
If there's a swordsman who can defeat Agnar Balderte… then chaotic melee like last time would be tough.
In the Pleihein Forest, the Empire's forces had held superiority in both quality and quantity, deliberately inducing a melee. Given the forest battlefield's nature—limited to areas with sparse trees—the Empire figured they could devour the duke's forces entirely by forcing chaos. And indeed, things had been heading that way.
Agnar Balderte had overwhelmed even Elcarus Levatein, nearly claiming Clarice Levatein's life as well.
But an unexpected special force had turned the tide, forcing a complete shift in strategy.
They could try the same tactic again to catch them off guard, but that required a wedge like Agnar Balderte. With the strongest wedge here having lost his arm, Marquis Gunror had no choice but to change plans.
As the commander said, we go with firepower projection.
One-on-one, a swordsman would have the edge over a mage, but in war—with troops to protect the mages—the matchup reversed.
He planned to summon the Empire's mage legion from central command and melt away the duke's soldiers—and their special sword forces—with overwhelming firepower.
The key was whether the enemy would wait. But the last battle hadn't been a total defeat for the Empire. Until that unforeseen force intervened, they had steadily pushed forward. The Levatein side would need time to regroup and prepare an assault.
They could buy enough time to call in the mage legion by exploiting that.
It was just an initial plan he'd thought up alone, but Marquis Gunror figured it was reasonably solid.
“...Time to discuss it.”
Now he just needed to share it with his officers, refine the details, and finalize the operation plan.
With that in mind, Gunror rose from his seat to exit the tent.
But an unnatural silence enveloped everything.
It wasn't just quiet inside the tent. Even without soundproofing, he should have heard soldiers' footsteps patrolling the camp, officers issuing orders, idle chatter to ease tension—the natural sounds of a battlefield.
Yet now, it was eerily silent.
Sensing something off, Marquis Gunror poked his head outside.
And he grew even more puzzled.
He'd thought something had happened, but the two guards at his tent stood fine. The soldiers were all unharmed too. The odd part was that officers and soldiers alike stared fixedly in one direction, so entranced they hadn't noticed the marquis emerge.
“What are you all staring at…”
Feeling the strangeness, Marquis Gunror followed their gaze.
And like the others, he found himself frozen, gaze stolen in an instant.
A vast white snowfield.
Upon it walked a woman, stepping deliberately, her black hair fluttering like the night sky.
Her crisp outfit evoked winter, contrasting sharply with her boldly exposed snow-white shoulders, collarbone, and the sharp line of her cleavage that seized the eye.
She was beautiful.
It was the sole impression that struck first upon seeing this woman who had suddenly appeared before the camp—a beauty that felt utterly detached from the world.
“I'll just confirm one thing.”
Contrasting that beauty, her voice fell cold as frost, chilling the mind to its core.
That chill—and the ruthlessness—jolted Marquis Gunror back to his senses.
It wasn't just the voice; something else had arrived too.
“Is it true that you attacked my disciple first?”
A ferocious killing intent, hidden behind her beauty, spread outward, freezing everyone present.
Even Marquis Gunror, who as an Empire noble had faced countless monsters, felt his legs tremble.
Instinct screamed to move or die. Shaking off the freeze, he roused the soldiers.
“S-Snap out of it, all of you! Why are you standing there dumbfounded before a potential enemy?!”
At the marquis's shout, the Empire soldiers finally came to, nocking arrows as they asked,
“Sh-Shoot now?”
“Why spare someone who approaches the camp so brazenly!? Fire!”
Of course, not everyone had met her. As an Empire figure, he knew those Palstar Heroes still active publicly—like the Demon Star, Divine Star, and Gold Star—but not the reclusive ones.
So…
“Kill her now!”
He didn't recognize the woman radiating such killing intent.
At the marquis's order, soldiers loaded and fired their crossbows.
Not ordinary ones—these were enhanced with spirit magic, firing arrows at bullet speeds.
It was why, in the Pleihein Forest battle, the duke's forces couldn't check the charging Empire troops and got pushed back helplessly.
“...Your reaction confirms it.”
Yet the woman didn't even twitch to dodge, as if the world moved in slow motion for her.
Clack. The two sheathed swords at her waist clinked together.
“No need to hold back on distance with swords.”
She gripped the hilt of the one in the snow-white scabbard.
And then.
Soul Slash
Shrieeeeeeeeeek─────────────────────!!
As the sword drew, the incoming arrows—and the archers who fired them—split in half.
The already-loosed arrows flew on, split but true, yet somehow all missed her, scattering into the snow.
“……!!”
Her sword hadn't reached the distant archers, but vivid sword qi had cleaved everything in its path.
What the hell… is this…
Not just soldiers—the qi had slashed tents, trees, snow, and even gouged the earth deeply.
No mere traces; the ground was cratered.
The sword qi's path had passed right by Marquis Gunror.
Had he been a step closer, his body would have joined the bisected dead.
Unable to hide his horror at the inexplicable sight, the marquis stood speechless for a long while.
But flight was impossible. His body wouldn't obey; he couldn't even lift a foot.
The other soldiers were the same.
They'd just watched comrades die gruesomely, yet none could draw a weapon.
She was alone; they numbered near a thousand.
Just this vanguard? The main central army descending soon numbered tens of thousands.
Even if all died here, relentless attacks might exhaust the monster woman's stamina. The follow-up forces could finish her.
They knew that—yet no one could move.
Out of fear of death? No.
Instinct told them no one here could even reach her.
In that moment, Marquis Gunror dimly realized.
“Y-You’re…”
The identity of the woman before him.
“I’d rather not stain my hands with too much blood, so I’ll give you one choice.”
A swordswoman who appeared just past twenty, eternally youthful, beautiful enough for nation-toppling allure, wielding swordsmanship beyond comprehension.
Gunror knew only one such person.
The true master of perfected swordsmanship, who in an instant demoted the vaunted Jerugasias Style to a mere offshoot.
The Sword Star, Hakodate Karin.
“Will you withdraw here… or…”
She had appeared here.
“...die fighting to the last?”