Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Dragon's Trial (1)
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Killing Intent
A single person's intense killing intent halted the advance of a cavalry force numbering in the thousands.
It wasn't a bad result for the first time unleashing my killing intent... but unexpectedly, the burden of using it was beyond imagination.
'Even without doing anything, the drain is extreme. At most, maybe an hour from now...'
Bluffing. That's why I—who couldn't even match half of that armored bastard's gear—could block a cavalry charge like some kind of equipment.
If it weren't for the killing intent I'd gained by dancing back and forth with death, it would've ended as nothing more than an empty echo.
But even that had reached its limit now. Just as I was steeling myself for the death to come next...
"Your Highness! It's a royal decree from the capital—His Majesty orders an immediate return to the royal castle!"
"Tch... If it's a royal decree, no helping it."
"..."
It was a situation that truly warranted the phrase "narrow escape from death," but I didn't let it show.
War latches onto even the tiniest sign of weakness and tears it apart.
With my face set in stone and my head held high to the bitter end, even the Crown Prince glaring daggers at me had no choice but to turn his back.
'Lucky to scrape by alive... but what the hell made them retreat all of a sudden?'
Having resolved the immediate crisis, my mind naturally shifted to the next problem.
The Crown Prince's obsessive nature, the sudden retreat, the course of the war... and how the hell we were supposed to survive this winter.
One issue bleeding into the next, piling up worries until my heart felt heavy as lead.
The village the princess mentioned was only a day's ride away.
If I hadn't plugged that bridge, another horrific massacre would've unfolded.
Even without that, the village's situation wasn't great by any stretch.
"How's the situation?"
"Not good. We're running critically low on rations... and short on tents too. Forget the war—we're scrambling just to make it through winter."
Princess Anna wiped the sweat from her brow and let out a sigh laced with lament. She wasn't exaggerating.
What if the Empire or Kingdom attacked tomorrow? What then?
And we were already short on food. Winter made hunting and foraging even more limited...
Facing a situation with no answers felt like my throat was being squeezed shut.
"Your Highness, if I may offer some advice... As leader, sighing like that hits morale harder than you think."
"Ah! R-Right. Sorry, I didn't consider that far..."
"It's fine. For now, let's tackle the problems at hand."
A commander leading troops must never show weakness carelessly.
If the leader wavers, the army follows suit—and clashing with the enemy in that state means total collapse.
That was one hard lesson from all the death lines I'd crossed.
"Your Highness, there's something urgent we need to discuss. I ran into the Crown Prince's cavalry..."
"You actually faced their cavalry?! How did you return unscathed...?"
"I stood at the bridge's end, ready to embrace death if need be—and the enemy dared not cross recklessly."
"Holding off an entire cavalry alone... Your courage and valor exceed imagination."
"We stared each other down for about an hour when suddenly a messenger arrived from the capital, delivered some message, and they withdrew."
This was the real issue. What scheme prompted pulling back the cavalry?
Even if it wasn't a ploy, it proved the situation was shifting rapidly.
Fail to adapt, and you'd lose your life. Every war I'd fought taught me that.
"If the Crown Prince retreated in haste, it must be something grave... Unless there's rebellion in the capital, it feels like massive outside pressure intervened."
"Massive outside pressure—do you mean the Alliance?"
"No, the Alliance lacks the strength to intervene right now. The real force that could sway the capital at this moment is..."
"...The Empire."
"Exactly."
The Empire and Kingdom had been negotiating. Of course, the Imperial Princess's release derailed it back to square one.
From the Kingdom's view, they needed to drag out talks as long as possible.
After all, the Empire wouldn't launch military action mid-negotiation.
"But we've lost the advantage, so war will resume eventually. Best to prepare as much as we can in the meantime."
"I agree with Lord Blackguard."
We chopped wood in the forest for barricades, fished, hunted, foraged—scraped together every scrap of food we could.
It was like pissing in your boots to stay warm, but without even that, we'd have been dead meat.
In this utterly dire state, an utterly unexpected guest arrived.
"I've been counting the days until we met again... Ahem! It's an honor to see you once more, Lord Blackguard."
Golden hair shimmering like sunlight, crimson eyes gleaming like jewels—a stunning girl.
Morgana von Rubelion Ragna.
The Third Imperial Princess and Empire army commander had come to this village in person.
What the hell...??
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The heart of the Empire, where His Majesty the Emperor personally reigned over the world—the Imperial Palace.
Not even the rough-hewn stone throne could overshadow the Emperor's majesty.
Yet deep furrows creased the brow of this towering figure, etched by worry and doubt.
The petition from the Second Imperial Prince Oren was a spectacle. Stripping away the flowery language, it boiled down to...
"Ceding the eastern territories we've conquered in exchange for one knight? After all the blood we've spilled?"
We'd only paused the war for negotiations, but the Empire already held total superiority.
Conquering the Kingdom to avenge our humiliation and proclaim our might across the continent wasn't enough—we're ending the war?
For just one knight? No sane reason to swallow that.
Thus, Oren—who penned the petition himself—was summoned before the Emperor.
Even he knew it sounded generous to the point of stupidity.
Yet the petition held not a shred of falsehood, so Oren gladly explained.
"Your Majesty, are you content with conquering just that puny kingdom beside us?"
"How could I not be satisfied with slaying the vile traitors who betrayed the Empire and spilled our blood, while expanding our territory?"
"Well said, Your Majesty. But unlike the Kingdom, there's a force that's blocked the Empire's advance until now, isn't there?"
The Emperor's brow twitched at Oren's words. How could he forget that name?
The Alliance. The one true rival in continental history to halt the Empire's march.
Despite their internal woes, their ability to check the Empire proved their might.
"No denying the Alliance threatens the Empire's future. But have I not already severed their claws myself, displaying the Imperial dignity to all under heaven?"
"Who would doubt Your Majesty's feats? Yet no one ignores that the stalemate between Empire and Alliance stems from the masters' disparity."
"..."
Indeed. United kingdoms swelled the Alliance's military might—and even their number of masters outnumbered ours.
Just by one, but... a master was a one-man army. A sword that rendered armies and fortresses meaningless.
Masters could only be countered by masters. That's why Empire and Alliance were deadlocked.
The Alliance had one more master for defense; the Empire's superior strength deterred their offense.
"In other words, recruiting this knight would shatter that balance."
"Humiliation is fleeting, but the feat endures eternally in history. Posterity will forever praise Your Majesty's bold decision."
"If true, couldn't we conquer the Kingdom first, then recruit him after?"
"Your Majesty, conquer the Kingdom, and he'll fight to the death. The balance persists forever."
That much, he could assert without doubt. With a massive foe at the gates, he'd never yield while defending his Kingdom.
Best to halt the war, negotiate, and extract him from the Kingdom that way.
No matter the loyalist—none stay true to a homeland that sells them out for its gain.
"Pacify the Kingdom by returning our occupied eastern territories via negotiation, then sway Blackguard to our side as the Empire's sword—and continental unification is within reach."
"Are you certain he's master material? That he'll break this tedious balance?"
"Ten years. If he shows no promise by then... I'll end my own life to atone."
With that, Oren fell silent. No more debate—a pledge of resolve.
The Emperor pondered, sensing the Second Prince's desperation. He grasped his intent.
But words alone couldn't justify yielding blood-soaked lands. It wasn't even worth considering.
Yet he couldn't dismiss it as nonsense. One reason: it stirred his ambition.
'Sixty years of rule stabilized the Empire, maximizing its power. Feats to echo through ages... but is this all I settle for?'
In that moment, the Emperor envisioned it—leading armies across the horizon.
A mere fancy, yet it roused the ambition suppressed for sixty years. Dragons recognize dragons, it seems.
But grand decisions can't hinge on words alone. The answer was clear.
"Bring me this Blackguard. I will see him, hear him, and judge myself."
As a dragon, bestowing the trial.