Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Eve of the Storm (6)
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The Beastkin began to retreat. The reason they didn't bother pursuing was to avoid squandering the hard-won advantage.
Cain had managed to achieve a miraculous exchange ratio against the Beastkin by maximizing the benefits of defense.
Their forces were evenly matched in scale, and the terrain had been overwhelmingly favorable to the enemy.
'Pursuing them now would just leave us open to a counterattack. I don't need Defeat Regression to see that.'
Having endured the Beastkin's terrifying offensive power countless times through Defeat Regression, Cain had no choice but to stay cautious.
But the soldiers and knights, unaware of this, were simply lost in the thrill of victory, roaring cheers of joy.
Watching from the rear, Master Grandel found himself admiring Cain's command prowess once more.
'In the midst of that chaotic melee, he sized up the situation with the cold clarity of midwinter ice, calmly anticipated the enemy's moves, and struck back... Striking Her Highness's blind spot wasn't mere luck after all.'
The Beastkin's fearsome physical abilities were a problem, of course, but their greatest edge lay in this terrain.
The Demonic Realm's landscape was fundamentally thick forest, making cavalry operations difficult.
By contrast, the Beastkin boasted speeds and agility far surpassing regular infantry.
On open plains, perhaps it would be different. But in the forest, it wasn't an exaggeration to say they outmatched even cavalry in mobility.
'He predicted their movements with ghostly precision, counterattacked without overextending... Truly a talent worthy of Her Highness.'
Thanks to those ghost-like predictions and counters, the Beastkin—hampered by mounting casualties—had no choice but to fall back.
He had maneuvered the enemy into acting on his terms and reaped the gains. Textbook generalship straight out of the art of war.
To possess such martial skill and command ability at a young age... What heights would he reach once he matured?
Yet contrary to Grandel's musings, Cain's expression was far from pleased.
'Without Defeat Regression, that means I would've lost at least seven times... or taken comparable damage.'
Naturally, Cain lacked Morgana's innate genius for command. And yet, he'd won.
It was purely thanks to Defeat Regression—methodically eliminating wrong answers from past defeats, one by one.
That was the source of Cain's gloom. He alone knew the ugly truth behind the results.
Reading Cain's mood, Grandel cocked his head and posed a question.
"You've won a great victory, yet why does your face look so dour?"
"I've come to realize my own shortcomings."
Sincere words. But Grandel took them in a different light.
"Even after such a triumph, you're unsatisfied and vow to improve further."
"Pardon?"
"This old man is genuinely impressed."
"......"
Only Cain knew the truth of his dismal scorecard.
To everyone else, it appeared as nothing less than an overwhelming rout—a dazzling triumph.
Grandel was no exception, which naturally led to his interpretation.
Cain couldn't bring himself to explain. He could only manage a bitter smile.
"Still, this victory is valuable enough in its own right. Against the Beastkin, no less."
"Are the Beastkin such vexing foes?"
"In their heyday, they were our empire's fiercest rivals, contesting territory. Even in their current decline, they've risen as one of the four great powers."
It wasn't for nothing that the Empire equated one Beastkin warrior to three elite soldiers—and that came straight from imperial sources.
And yet, against such Beastkin, with comparable numbers. Even yielding them the terrain advantage—and still victory?
A great victory. A legendary feat, beyond question.
"You've already subjugated one of the four great powers and beaten another. No one in the Empire will question your abilities now, my lord."
"Doubt isn't the issue. My sole worry is... the Seven Kings' Servant's next move."
Cain had witnessed the Beastkin's horrifying attack power and mobility ad nauseam. He'd even been torn apart by it firsthand.
Naturally, knowing that agony and devastation firsthand bred vigilance.
But Grandel, oblivious to the truth, could only marvel at Cain's meticulous caution, shaking his head in admiration.
'I had my doubts at first, but now I'm certain. With my lord... we can conquer the Demonic Realm.'
Grandel's conviction hardened. Still, lingering wasn't an option, so retreat came first.
The Demonic Realm teemed with monsters and other races alike. Threats piled up like mountains, whether beastkin or not.
No sense sticking around to tangle with them after achieving the objective.
Cain knew this well, so he shelved his self-reflection for now and led the army straight back to the territory.
"Lord Blackguard!!"
"Her Highness."
On the march home, they crossed paths with Morgana, who was arriving late with reinforcements.
She'd mobilized with minimal prep the moment reports of the Beastkin clash arrived.
Morgana's relief at seeing Cain unharmed turned to shock at the follow-up report.
"A great victory?! You slaughtered over a thousand Beastkin warriors?!"
Why had she scrambled reinforcements in such haste? Personal motives aside...
The Beastkin were no pushovers—that's why she'd rallied aid so urgently. And they'd won?
But as she stared at Cain in astonishment, Morgana soon tilted her head.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
"No, I'm fine."
"I-Is that so? Your face looked troubled, so I just blurted it out..."
She held her breath for a moment. Morgana was one of the very few who could pierce Cain's facade.
But Cain forced a smile and buried his true feelings. He hadn't expected her to understand anyway.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The triumphant report from Renheim Territory raced to the imperial court faster than lightning. Emperor Leonis rejoiced greatly upon receiving it.
In mere months, not only had wyverns been tamed, but over a thousand Beastkin heads claimed?
An achievement defying imagination. It greased the wheels for support that had been stalled.
"Your Majesty, even so, aren't we investing too much authority in Renheim's lord...?"
"He's delivered results—fitting rewards are only natural. Renheim has fought two battles besides. The losses can't be insignificant."
"Reports state total casualties to date barely exceed three hundred."
Not just fatalities—injured included, a mere three hundred.
This was meant to argue minimal losses obviated further aid, but the Emperor heard something else.
"Such feats, with soldier losses that low? I must bestow even greater honors!"
"......"
"The Beastkin won't sit idle after this. Bloody vengeance is certain."
The nobles, gaining no ground from their words, fell silent.
Regardless, the overwhelming merits were undeniable. It gave the Emperor perfect justification.
Absolute imperial power or not, he couldn't brazenly dismiss noble grievances.
He'd been humoring them to an extent, and now they handed him ideal pretext.
Not only did he highlight his own feats. He meticulously categorized and reported subordinates' contributions too.
That impartial rigor charmed Emperor Leonis.
'And this is merely the start. Such accomplishments already—what peaks await with greater backing?'
Of course, excessive lordly power demanded eventual checks.
But Cain Blackguard was the exception. A man who so strictly tallied his men's deeds in reports...
He showed no signs of succumbing to selfish ambition and rebellion—at least not yet.
'The General did it that way, so I should too. He's the only true master of war I know...'
In truth, Cain had merely aped the sole renowned general in his knowledge.
And naturally, no one in the Empire existed to dispel the Emperor's misconception.