33. Battlefield (4)
33. Battlefield (4)
The night grew deep.
Around 300 personnel arrived at the Imperial Army encampment.
It was the arrival of the Empire's 2nd Seat, Heigelt, and the mercenary corps he personally operated, Hollow, the Empire's strongest.
Heigelt looked to be a good 2 meters tall. He had the face of a warrior that anyone would call intensely striking. A single scar from a blade cutting across his right eyebrow was prominent.
Yuma looked at the Empire's 2nd Seat, Heigelt, with his Searching Eye.
[Lv.145] Heigelt
Race: Human
Class: Swordsman
Realm: Sword Master
A whopping Level 145.
"God of War... I have heard many tales of you, Grand Marshal."
Heigelt extended a thick hand. It was a rough hand, itself proof of a life spent trampling across battlefields with all kinds of weapons. Yuma felt a ferocious fighting spirit in the warrior's eyes.
"When this war ends, how about we share a hearty meal together!"
And within that fighting spirit-filled gaze, he also felt a simple sincerity.
"...I'll do that."
Yuma grasped that heavy hand.
Heigelt grinned.
"What would you like me and my mercenary corps to do on tomorrow's battlefield? Just give the order. As you are the Grand Marshal of this battlefield."
Before his deep discussion with Dawn Revolutionary Group Commander Cassiela, Yuma recalled the strategy meeting he had with Marquis Tornel and the two others. The places where troops were lacking. And the places that had to be occupied for victory.
"We must retake the southern wall."
"Understood."
And so another night passed, and the sun rose.
Yuma stared at the legion arrayed before him.
A legion numbering close to 30,000. Soldiers and knights packed densely in rows.
Yuma originally had no intention of climbing onto this supreme commander's platform.
-As the Grand Marshal in name, wouldn't it be right to say a word to them?
He had climbed up at Marquis Tornel's request.
Yuma felt the countless gazes focused on him. He felt the atmosphere of the legion. No matter how one tried to suppress or shake it off, a sense of defeat that was impossible to ignore had infected the entire force.
Because yesterday, they had only reclaimed lost sectors; they couldn't call it a victory.
Step, step.
Standing on the platform, Yuma faced the numerous troops directly. And slowly opened his mouth.
He had no confidence in delivering an eloquent speech loaded with meaning. He had no confidence in magically making their fighting spirit bubble up. So he just planned to say what he could.
"I am the Grand Marshal of the Empire, Yuma."
Yuma.
Those two syllables of the name were etched into the minds of the arrayed soldiers.
And one figure came to mind.
The God of War, Yuma.
"So the bullshit those crazy bastards were spouting actually wasn't bullshit after all!"
Countless words burst from among the soldiers' ranks. The knights had already received reports on who stood above the original supreme commander, Marquis Tornel.
But only about half of the regular soldiers had received that news.
At this very moment, half of the people were learning it from his own mouth.
"Is that really the God of War who came as our Grand Marshal!"
"Is it true that he swept away 30 men with a single gesture yesterday!"
The fact that the person currently most famous in the Empire had become their Grand Marshal naturally elevated their fighting spirit.
Yuma, unaware of why their morale had suddenly risen, continued speaking.
"Today, the Empire will achieve victory. Believe it without a single doubt."
At that declaration, all the soldiers let out a loud war cry.
Yuma figured he would add one more word.
It was at the request of one revolutionary commander.
"For the Empire."
And as soon as those words finished, the same shout Yuma had voiced echoed from the very front of the arrayed soldiers.
"For the Empire!!"
It was the cry of Dawn, the revolutionary group who had become heroes among the soldiers in a single day. And that cry spread out like a wave.
Yuma stepped down from the platform.
Clop, clop-
Yuma stared at the black horse in front of him.
It was a warhorse Marquis Tornel had prepared for him.
"He's a guy named Hector. A rough one, but once you tame him, he'll give you his absolute loyalty."
The problem was whether that 'taming him once' was even possible; he couldn't gauge it.
Yuma decided to try to revive the sensation of riding a horse from the VR game Loof Blood.
Yuma slowly mounted the horse.
"Let's go."
He gently pulled the reins.
Clop-
Hector's momentarily halted feet began moving again.
"You tame him quite readily...."
Tornel rode his own horse and came up alongside Yuma. And behind the two of them, the army of nearly 30,000 followed.
The plains.
The armies of two nations standing upon the plains.
Yuma felt the heat of the blazing sun on his body.
The 30,000-strong armies faced each other. The air of the battlefield was dreadfully heavy. Madness could be glimpsed in the eyes of the barbarian warriors holding their weapons. Their fighting spirit surged as if to pierce the sky.
Conqueror King Kamet strode forward, his brown hair like a lion's mane billowing.
His thick eyebrows twitched.
"Oho, a face I didn't see yesterday."
Yuma faced Kamet directly.
[Lv.146] Kamet
Race: Human
Realm: Sword Master
Characteristic: Lion Tribe Half-breed
Caution: The Lion Tribe hybrid element may create variables.
His Level was higher than Marquis Tornel's. Higher even than the Empire's 2nd Seat, Heigelt's.
He possessed an atmosphere and martial power truly worthy of being called the Conqueror King.
Kamet raised his sword and rested it on his shoulder.
"I am Kamet, King of Pyneton."
Yuma slowly opened his mouth.
"I am the Imperial Battlefield Grand Marshal, Yuma."
A grin spread across Kamet's lips.
The gleam shining in his eyes grew denser.
"So you are that God of War? Are you the monster who swept away my subordinates occupying the ridge in a single breath?"
Yuma, still mounted on Hector, nodded.
"That's right."
A crimson Sword Aura enveloped the giant blade Kamet held.
"Do you know why I continue to conquer lands?"
"I wouldn't know."
To be precise, he wasn't interested.
"Because conquest is righteous. To conquer, to make what is another's into my own. Only that can satisfy my desire."
Kugugugugugu!!
Fighting spirit flowed from Kamet's entire body. The unique vigor of the Lion Tribe raged fiercely. The bodies of the Imperial soldiers and knights arrayed at the front trembled faintly at that vigor.
<Nobility>
-Does not yield to pressure.
Yuma, holding himself aloof and noble, let the pressure pass by at his leisure.
Kamet, seeing not a single change in Yuma's bored eyes, emitted an even more intense aura.
Kamet's intense fighting spirit did not only result in the Imperial army becoming intimidated.
Fighting spirit always invites fighting spirit in return.
Heros, the Vice Knight Commander of Marquis Tornel, shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Damned barbarian bastards!! The knights of the Great Astes Empire cannot hand over even a single speck of land to beasts like you!!"
The bald man next to Kamet grinned, baring his yellow teeth.
"Hyung-nim, can we just stand still while they spout that bullshit! My body's itching for a fight!"
He was Kamet's right hand, Darcus. At Darcus's words, Kamet lifted his greatsword.
"Show them the power of the barbarians! Khahahahahahaha!"
Conqueror King Kamet's roar resonated thunderously across the land.
Darcus was the first to charge. The ground began to shake. Darcus held his spear and commanded his horse to charge with a kick.
Kugugugugu!!
The barbarian army and the Imperial army began to clash.
The sound of horse hooves rang out noisily.
Countless cold weapons wreathed in Aura bared their fangs at each other.
Whenever the weapons of commander-level knights and warriors collided, a storm of ki raged.
The swords of the Empire, meant to protect their land.
And the spears of the barbarian nation, meant to plunder the enemy's territory, clashed once again.
***
The southern wall occupied by the barbarian nation.
The Imperial army advancing towards that wall.
Leading the vanguard was the Empire's 2nd Seat, Heigelt, and his mercenary corps Hollow.
Taking the rear was the Dawn Revolutionary Group.
Hestia scaled the southern wall like a beast.
As a member of the Cat Tribe, it wasn't a particularly difficult task for her. Once over the wall, Hestia's sword flashed.
A streak of light was drawn across the necks of the barbarian warriors.
Because she had resolved that she must kill her enemies, she could use her hands without hesitation.
"Haaap!"
Crimson Sword Aura rippled on Hestia's blade. Following Hestia, who had first thrown the enemy lines into confusion, members of the Hollow Mercenary Corps began their infiltration.
"Being noble Imperial troops, you look down on barbarian sorcery far too lightly. Keuk-keul."
A guttural, phlegm-laced voice wormed its way into Hestia's ears.
"Huh?"
Hestia stared at the glowing circular gray formation beneath her feet.
Gray chains wrapped around both of her ankles.
And in the air, spears of crimson bone were aimed at Hestia.
No, they were aimed at all the Imperial soldiers behind Hestia. There looked to be a good 100 or more Bone Spears.
Sssssssssssssssslit!!
The crimson bone spears plummeted fiercely.
"Hoooooeeeek!"
Hestia felt death approaching once again!
At that moment, something surged up from the ground.
It was a transparent wall of ice. A shield of frost.
Every last Bone Spear was blocked.
Hestia turned to look behind her.
There, the mage Cloné, who had climbed onto the wall before she knew it, had cast the spell.
A thunderbolt shot out from the staff Cloné held.
"Kuaaaaaaahk!"
The bolt pierced through the sorcerer's body.
Magical light gleamed in Cloné's eyes.
She had reached the 4th Circle. And was already faintly looking towards the 5th Circle; that was Cloné.