Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Ruled Solely by Military Law (1)
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Two months.
That was enough time. Enough for the earldom brimming with hope to revert back to hell.
At first, things were good. Right after wresting the earldom back from the empire, I headed straight for the prison.
Edmond Belguard.
Unlike the traitorous Viscount Dermus, he was a loyal retainer who had fought to the bitter end at the earl's side.
But loyalty alone couldn't defeat the empire. In the end, he was taken prisoner.
"I've already made my intentions clear. I will never surrender to scum like you."
"Um..."
"Just kill me already. My lord awaits this worthless old slave... I won't keep him waiting any longer."
Through the iron bars, Viscount Belguard flew into a rage the instant he laid eyes on me.
It was an impressive first encounter, if nothing else. Beyond that...
Honestly, my initial thought was that they'd caged a bear instead of a man.
A hulking frame that had to be over two meters tall, rippling muscles to match, and skin darkened by the sun.
If he hadn't bellowed like that, the mix-up might have lasted a bit longer.
Anyway, once I'd laid out the whole story, the viscount's eyes bugged out like a startled rabbit.
"Is that for real? You drove out the imperial troops who'd seized the castle?"
"That's right."
"Then... do you know what happened to the traitor—no, Viscount Dermus?"
"I handed him over to the earl's men. He's probably getting his just deserts by now."
"Thank you! Truly, thank you! You are the savior of Blackguard Territory!!"
Bam.
The viscount wasn't shy about expressing his gratitude. The issue was just how overthe-top it was.
Who smashes their forehead into the floor until it bleeds to say thanks?
It was a pretty overwhelming way to greet someone. Naturally, I tried to decline as politely as possible.
But the viscount wouldn't budge until I accepted. In the end, I had no choice.
Well, at least I knew without a doubt just how grateful he was.
"We don't have time to waste. The imperial army may have pulled back for now, but who knows when they'll return to reclaim that sword."
"A wise point, indeed. I'm just a foolish old man... but I'll serve you to the best of my ability, Lord Blackguard."
Viscount Belguard was capable. Even if a lifetime honing his sword had left him illiterate.
The wisdom born of his hard-earned experience was nothing to scoff at.
"Lord Viscount, we've rounded up the deserters who surrendered or fled earlier."
"You found them? Where were they hiding?"
"In the nearby forests and caves. But they couldn't slip past these old eyes."
The veteran knight who'd served Blackguard Territory for decades knew every inch of the local terrain.
That made it a breeze to track down all their bolt-holes and drag the deserters in.
But that was far from the end of it. Word of the earldom's liberation spread like wildfire.
And so, nobles who'd lost their anchor and been drifting about started flocking to Blackguard Territory.
"I am Viscount Harban of the eastern provinces. I was fortunate to evade the empire's gaze and make it here."
"Welcome. Together, we can hold the empire at bay."
"My thanks."
When Viscount Belguard tallied up the forces he'd mustered—now bolstered by the newcomers' troops...
The total came to a thousand strong. Pathetic next to the imperial army, sure.
But enough to proudly call it an army, at least.
'With this, maybe we can hold out. Maybe I won't have to die anymore.'
For a fleeting moment, hope flickered. Hope that I might actually survive this hell.
And it took just two months for that hope to curdle into despair.
No strength left in my limbs. A hollow feeling, like my very soul was leaking out through my mouth.
Throat and back split like parched earth in a drought, stomach so shrunken it clung to my spine.
In the end, like everyone else, I couldn't hold out. I collapsed. Couldn't even move.
My landmark death after two months. The illustrious cause: starvation.
"Gasp...!!"
Panting raggedly, I forced my eyes open. Everything snapped back to where it belonged.
Outside, the reconstituted army drilled with vigor, and here I was in the office.
And standing before me was a familiar face: the steadfast Edmond Belguard.
"Lord Viscount, please reconsider. You're the only one who can lead us."
"..."
That's right. I'd come back.
All the way to two months ago.
To be more precise... right before I'd handed over command without a fight.
I'd lost count of how many times I'd said it, but I'd lived my life as a thorough ordinary person.
Me, in charge of a thousand lives? Hell, I could barely handle being a team lead at work.
And I'd died countless times already. I knew that agony all too well.
'My screw-ups causing people that kind of suffering... and they want me to shoulder that responsibility? No way in hell.'
Just thinking about it made my hands shake. I wanted no part of that crushing burden.
So I'd passed the buck. Convinced someone else would handle it better.
But this was the result of that "faith." I let out a hollow chuckle.
Two months.
A mere blip of time. Yet in it, I'd glimpsed the depths of human depravity.
Infighting over command. Pilfering supplies and deserting.
It felt like I'd witnessed—and endured—every low humanity could sink to.
'But regressing all the way back two months? That I didn't see coming...'
Until now, Defeat Regression had only ever flung me back half a day at most.
So I'd figured this loop would be no different. Wrong.
It vaulted two full months, landing me right before I surrendered command.
'The regression trigger's still a mystery. What the hell decides the checkpoint?'
But no time for musing. They'd be swarming this place soon enough.
I had to do everything I could before then. Time was ticking.
'First up: snag the rat who bolted with the supply convoy last night.'
Looks like I'd be commanding after all. Finally grasping the truth.
That's why you never armband the guy who's not waving his hand for it.
Now I got it, crystal clear.
◇ Under moonlight spilling cold radiance, she pored over the map spread across her desk.
Her lustrous golden hair gleamed all the brighter in the gentle glow, refusing to yield.
Her skin, smooth and pale as fine jade, seemed to drink in the moonlight with relish.
"...So, to sum it up: we lost over four hundred soldiers to a single man. And he even stole the castle out from under us?"
"I have no excuses, Your Highness. I will atone with my life..."
"No need."
The princess shook her head firmly. There were times to castigate the failings of one's own forces.
But this was different. She trusted the imperial army under her command more than anyone.
Yet they'd lost a castle to one lone man? The conclusion was straightforward.
"That man's at minimum a pinnacle Expert... and in the worst case, Master class isn't out of the question."
"M-Master class?"
"There are only five Masters in the entire empire. How could one turn up in some frontier backwater like this...?"
"Just a hypothesis, of course. The odds are slim. But we must always plan for the worst."
Of course, she didn't actually believe he was Master class.
She was merely steeling herself for the direst possibility, devising countermeasures accordingly.
He was a monster who'd conquered a castle single-handedly, after all. Her deliberations didn't drag on.
"Looks like retreat is our only option."
"Pardon? But we've got the capital fully surrounded already."
"They can hold out for at least half a year. We're the ones cut off now, completely."
No matter how elite the troops, without proper supply lines, defeat was inevitable.
The princess had learned the hard lesson of logistics from the empire's storied campaigns.
That's why she'd divided her forces—thirty thousand and twenty thousand—to seize the east.
"The kingdom's eastern reaches are sympathetic to the empire, but they're also its breadbasket. And we've got supply depots there."
"You mean..."
"Exactly. Stay put, and we could lose both depots."
The princess had orchestrated this campaign with precision: engineer corps paving roads.
Steady supply trains rolling in from the empire, with the granary secured against shortages.
"The instant a man who can seize a castle alone pinpoints our depots, it's hell on earth. We have to encircle him and kill him first."
Slaying the enemy and seizing their grain was worth dozens of times its weight in supplies. Simple math.
But was it enough to abandon the capital siege? Absolutely.
The report had made it clear: that man was the kingdom's one true rallying point.
'Cain Blackguard... Eliminate him, and victory falls to the empire inexorably.'
It would drag things out, but it neutered the wildcard. Minimized any chance of defeat.
That was the decisive reason Princess Morgana von Rubelion Ragna—the one dubbed Heaven's Net—began her move.