Chapter 137
Chapter 137
A moonless, pitch-black night.
At the heart of the Second Prince Faction, a group began to move.
They had lowered their banners and minimized torchlight, but the sound of thousands moving in perfect silence was impossible to suppress. Scattered noises broke out here and there, though no one had expected complete stealth.
Which was why the sharp-eyed and sharp-eared inevitably noticed their movements.
From the start, those who had been watching MacLaine swiftly reported the developments to their masters.
Second day of the operation.
Just as MacLaine's forces veered southwest to circumvent the mountain range—
"Your informant's report was right. We've been tailed. And they're barely a day's march away. Their army is heading straight for us—completely deviating from their original advance route."
"Hmm. I thought they'd just leak intel, but they're gambling outright... Did they plan this from the start? Well, this works in our favor."
"Works in our favor?"
"Originally, we'd have had to take risks at least twice more. But they've handed us a better excuse. No need to stick to the plan and expose ourselves unnecessarily."
"Oh? Then?"
"There's a perfect terrain for defending against a rear assault just ahead. A high ridge winding around the mountains."
"Right. A good place to rest for a day."
The MacLaines exchanged knowing smiles.
Soon, the entire MacLaine command was assembled.
"What? Bifrost? They've lost their minds. Are they insane?"
Heinkel's voice echoed the sentiments of every knight gathered in the tent.
"They must realize they can't win now. Unless they're truly mad, they've prepared something."
Ellen's clear voice drew all eyes back to Logan.
Logan smirked and nodded.
"Exactly. Our initial assumption was that the enemy would attack based on leaked intel. We expected forces from two Border Lords and planned to deviate slightly from the route to lay a trap."
The knights' expressions hardened.
Even with MacLaine's current strength—far surpassing their past capabilities—no one believed they could face two Border Lords' forces unscathed.
Seeing their grim faces, Logan chuckled and continued.
"But their direct approach has actually improved our situation."
"Huh?"
"No need to take unnecessary risks anymore. We'll just deal with Bifrost... and withdraw from this war!"
The knights' eyes widened in unison.
The next day, as the sun climbed high and the army remained stationary, murmurs spread among the troops—until the anticipated event unfolded.
"Enemy forces sighted to the rear!! Roses blooming in flame—Bifrost's army!"
"They're here."
"All units, rear guard formation! Prepare for battle!"
Logan took the lead, charging toward the rear as the command swiftly redirected the army's formation.
Naturally, the approaching Bifrost forces halted in stunned confusion.
Their targets were already waiting atop the high ridge, overlooking the slope they had been ascending.
Scouts had spotted them early, but there was no turning back—MacLaine's forces had clearly seen them too.
Roger Bifrost's face twisted in frustration.
"Why are they there...? Damn them, did they figure it out...?"
"My lord. What should we do? If they've realized—"
Aslan's grim expression mirrored Roger's.
"I hate to admit it, but we can't handle them alone. We need 'their' help as planned..."
"How far are they?"
"About a day's march to the rendezvous point. But if it's just 'him' and his elites, they could make it in hours."
"...Fine. Send word to 'them.' Explain the situation and tell them to hurry. We'll buy as much time as we can."
"How, my lord?"
"We'll bluff. It's not like there's no path south from here."
"But... they won't believe us."
"They won't attack outright without confirmation. And if they do... we'll have no choice but to fight."
"My lord, in that case—"
Roger Bifrost's jaw clenched audibly.
"It's too late to turn back now. Send the message! He's coming."
"Yes, my lord. Please be careful."
"Tch. Never thought I'd hear such words while facing MacLaine."
Roger Bifrost, his face pale with tension, slowly rode forward alone.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
The cautious advance of both sides spoke volumes.
The two commanders halted their horses over a hundred meters apart.
Then Logan's voice, brimming with authority, pierced Roger's ears.
"What brings you this way, Count Bifrost? This isn't Bifrost's planned route."
"The route is at the field commander's discretion. We took this path to avoid enemy eyes."
Roger's magically amplified voice echoed across both armies, but Logan's tone remained unwavering.
"That would make it hard to coordinate the operation. To reach the southern gate from here, you'd have to cross the mountains."
"There are ways. I am, after all, a 5th-Circle Mage."
"Even a 5th-Circle Mage—let alone an Archmage from legend—would find that difficult."
"I appreciate the concern, but wasting time with the grand operation looming seems pointless. Shouldn't we move quickly?"
"In this situation?"
You expect us to just let you pass and move on?
The skepticism in Logan's retort was palpable. Roger chuckled.
"Hmm. Well, if you have another plan, we could go first? As you said, we're in a hurry."
"You'd go ahead?"
"If you're fine with it."
The answer came too easily.
"...What?"
Roger's expression stiffened slightly, but he didn't hesitate.
"Ah... Hah. Thank you for understanding. All forces, quick march! Pass through MacLaine's ranks!"
Yet, as he turned, his face twisted in tension.
Thud. Thud.
Bifrost's army ascended the ridge, while MacLaine's forces watched from above.
As the distance closed, the tension thickened—not just among the commanders, but the soldiers as well.
Finally, Bifrost halted just outside the range of the repeating crossbows.
"Hoho. Seems you're not actually planning to let us pass?"
"Your forces seem oddly tense, Count. What's the matter?"
"No matter our grudges, this isn't the time for infighting. If you don't trust us, why don't you take your own path? We'll stay far behind and move later."
Roger's forced calm was met with Logan's relaxed smile.
"Haha. No need for that."
"What?"
"You said the route is at the field commander's discretion, right? We've decided to change course too. We're turning back."
"What nonsense—?"
"All forces, advance! Return to headquarters!"
"Yes, sir!"
MacLaine's army began descending the ridge toward the halted Bifrost forces.
Roger's face cycled through shock—pale, then blue, then red.
"What the—?!"
"Enough with the act. Should I contact Duke Waltermein right now? Ask if this is truly within a field commander's discretion?"
Logan's composed response finally shattered Roger's restraint.
"Engage!! All units, execute the plan!"
Simultaneously, Logan drew his sword.
"Full charge! Finish Bifrost!"
The clumsy charade ended, and the real battle began.
Why didn't they just retreat?
Logan found it strange.
The gap between MacLaine and Bifrost was undeniable.
Yet Roger Bifrost had pressed forward, knowing full well a battle was inevitable.
The answer came swiftly—and unpleasantly—as the fighting erupted.
With the grating voice Logan had hoped never to hear again, a thousand cavalry surged from the enemy lines.
Roger Bifrost gnashed his teeth at the sight of the dreaded weapons in their hands.
"Let's give those bastards a hot welcome! Ready!"
"Yes, sir!"
At Roger's command, Bifrost's knights drew blue stones from their pouches.
"A taste of their own medicine will be a good lesson."
With Roger's cruel laugh, the stones turned red and soared into the air.
A barrage of red projectiles—familiar in shape—hurtled toward MacLaine's front lines at terrifying speed.
The moment Victor recognized them, his face froze.
"Libera—!!"
The clipped order conveyed his urgency.
But the crossbow cavalry's training shone—their reaction was instantaneous.
A few sharp-eyed marksmen fired at the incoming projectiles within seconds.
Yet even the finest archers couldn't intercept hundreds of bombs.
A handful were shot down midair, but most descended upon the crossbow cavalry, glowing crimson.
Victor's face paled—
Then, a massive golden net unfurled above them.
BOOOOM!
Grit!
It was impulsive.
He couldn't let the crossbow cavalry take catastrophic losses.
Logan activated Ghost's Shadow and Wind God's Boots, launching himself like lightning above his troops.
Instinctively, he poured all his strength into a single slash.
But as the golden light of Iron Cleave—his longest-range technique—gathered at his blade's tip, reason intervened.
This won't be enough.
A piercing beam of destruction was powerful, but it couldn't intercept dozens of scattered Liberatios.
And overwhelming force wasn't needed—just enough to detonate the bombs midair over a wide area.
In that critical moment, reason and instinct harmonized perfectly—producing a variation of the Divine Sword Secret Art Logan had never consciously achieved before.
The golden light at his blade split into five jagged streaks, expanding in a zigzag pattern to cover the entire front.
Individually, they resembled lightning bolts. Together, they formed a vast golden net in the sky.
And that net carried just enough force—precisely enough to detonate the bombs—before they reached the troops.
BOOOOM!
"Aaaah!"
There were still casualties—but compared to the dozens of Liberatios that would have landed, a mere dozen injuries was nothing short of a miracle.
"Wh-what was that?!"
"How...?"
"The Grand Prince!"
"Don't stop! Charge! The enemy's right there!"
The momentary shock passed as Victor roared—
And the crossbow cavalry accelerated again, raising their weapons toward the even more stunned Bifrost knights.
THUD-THUD-THUD!
The hail of quarrels staggered Bifrost's charge—
"What the hell is this?!"
A furious bellow erupted from deep within enemy lines.
The enemy commander's voice carried a magical authority—restoring order to his panicked troops.
They're out of bombs now.
That knowledge fueled Victor and the crossbow cavalry.
"Keep firing! Flank them!"
Victor's command sent the cavalry into perfect execution of their original mission.
But Bifrost didn't break easily.