Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Black-Haired Knight King
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The Redskins, having caught on that the royal family was defenseless, finally turned their blades.
They chose easy, tasty prey over game that was hard to bite into and tasted bad anyway.
These golden eggs were laying so nicely—what treasures must be hiding in their bellies?
No mere fairy-tale moral for children could hold back the desires burning in those monsters.
The brutal pillaging and destruction began.
The Redskins scattered across the eastern region crossed the lines we'd barely managed to defend, unleashing the filthy instincts inherent to orcs.
Villages burned to the ground. Cities lay in ruins.
Areas around Kutna, far removed from any popular uprisings, were stained with the blood of the innocent and filled with screams that time itself couldn't erase.
I stayed silent.
Was this the price of turning a blind eye to injustice?
The easterners, who had clung to their uneasy peace, only truly awoke after their homes and families were shattered beyond repair.
And then it was my turn.
Far too late for regrets.
The people they could blame with their weary mouths were all dead. The one uprising left to point fingers at had been snuffed out.
If resisting in the past meant death, then failing to resist in the present demanded the same.
Facing overwhelming violence and malice, the easterners bowed their heads and cursed their fate.
Yet ironically, those who chose to fight that fate were the eastern crows and Sodom's commoners, crushed the most brutally of all.
"Time is of the essence! Move faster!"
"One per person! One spear per person! No, kid, what do you think you're doing taking two?!"
After much deliberation, the offensive was greenlit.
Summoning orders went out to the soldiers all at once, and supplies for the march were rushed into place.
The eastern army donned the standardized armor forged by our eastern smiths through sleepless nights, wielding pikes and slings that were starting to feel familiar in their hands.
Regardless of their still-inadequate training, this was the largest single unit I'd commanded in nearly nine years.
The day before departure, in the afternoon, after reviewing the eastern army for what would be the last time, I turned to the group gathered atop the walls.
"Once they learn we've marched out, they'll come at us again. The borderlands leading to the capital will likely be the site of the final battle."
The Redskins hadn't turned their blades from Sodom out of fear of the rebels holed up there—it was because the casualties were far heavier than expected.
If we came out to meet them, they'd whoop in delight and charge right back with their horde.
That would be the decisive clash.
Having already mapped out our strategy for the battlefield, I scanned the faces of my companions.
Yet not one among them showed any premature battle fervor.
It wasn't fear. They'd seen firsthand how the fall of a kingdom spiraled into catastrophe.
Richard, wearing a deathly pallor, asked me,
"What about the people over there all this time...?"
"A lot of them will die."
No matter how swiftly we marched, it would still take a week to arrive.
What fate awaited the defenseless people of the Kutna region in the meantime was plain as day.
Richard had endured that grueling process all for the sake of saving the easterners.
Yet despite giving his all, all he had to show for it was an accumulating karma he could never wash clean.
I understood his pain.
I gripped his slumped shoulders firmly and offered the best comfort I could right then.
"Focus on what you can do now. Knowing your limits is enough."
"...I'll keep that in mind."
Good lad. The day he becomes king and leads an army isn't far off.
I gazed at Richard's resolute spirit a while longer, then turned and bellowed,
"Everyone, return to your posts! At dawn's first light, we march on the capital!"
No grand speeches from commanders. No soaring anthems.
After a simple review, the eastern army pitched camp before Sodom that afternoon and passed the night.
And so, at dawn when the unusually bright, lofty stars had faded and daybreak arrived, the eastern army quietly broke camp and began its silent advance.
Brothers from the north, princes and knights fled from the royal court, easterners awaiting only death—they had all melted together in the eastern mold, forged into sturdy steel.
"Ugh... uh..."
At some point, the world had grown hazy.
Thinking hurt his head, and his will crumbled away like ants gnawing at it, bit by bit.
His frail body, his face etched with wrinkles.
Today, for some strange reason, his mind was unusually clear. Wilhelm II clutched his head and rose.
"Ah, is no one here?"
The grand throne room of the palace stood empty.
No royal guard appeared despite the king's summons. Not even a lowly servant in sight.
"Urgh."
It hurt. His head hurt so much.
Yet strangely, like the final flicker of a dying flame, he left the throne despite his weakness.
He walked through the hollow center of the deserted palace.
Occasionally, officials fleeing in haste darted into view, but they were already too far to catch—mere grasping at air.
Where had the splendid palace gone? Only gray emptiness lingered now.
A sudden dizziness struck Wilhelm II as he staggered toward the palace terrace.
Clunk! Shrrk!
Huff... huff...
He drew back the curtains and opened the terrace doors. The still-chilly winter air pierced his lungs.
But the capital's vista piercing his foggy vision was utterly unlike the one he knew.
"Ah... aah...!"
Black smoke rose from fires set by rioters.
Unquenched flames roared across the capital in massive blazes here and there.
Families fleeing, children wailing.
p>Innumerable lines of refugees snaking away to escape the invasion stretched endlessly.
What in the world had happened?
The capital Dupidia, confronted with a clear mind, wore the grim face of a fallen kingdom.
"Your Majesty."
At that moment, a familiar low voice sounded right behind him on the terrace.
He whipped around to see Gregorz, the prime minister of the eastern kingdom and his old friend.
"W-what is this, Prime Minister? Has the enemy invaded? Everyone's fleeing!"
"Your mind is clear today."
"What do you...!"
Intense pain surged through his head and heart.
With a final scream, Wilhelm II clutched his head and collapsed, unable to stand.
Thud!
Only now did the memories begin to return.
Himself growing ever more listless, the east reduced to a vassal state, his own son scorning him, sycophants bowing and assuring him all was well.
The wisest of all, Wilhelm II, realized where it had all gone wrong only when death loomed right before him.
"You bastard...!"
He desperately hauled himself up.
And with his bony hands, he seized the shamelessly standing Gregorz by the collar.
"What have you done?! How did it come to this?! Tell me, Gregorz! If you've got a mouth, say some—urk!"
The final rebuke from the king he had served.
But Gregorz brushed off even that with an indifferent shove, as if unwilling to hear it.
Thud.
Clang!
His body so feeble that even a weak recoil sent him tumbling.
The precarious eastern crown fell to the floor alongside the fallen authority.
Gregorz pulled out a handkerchief.
Wiping the hand that had touched the king, he said,
"The moment the north fell, our fate was sealed, Your Majesty. I've kept you alive nine extra years—who could be more loyal than I?"
"To die as slaves...?"
"Hahaha! Born as slaves, so die as slaves! This humble servant has never once seen fate overturned. It was ever thus, and always will be, Your Majesty."
With that, Gregorz carelessly dropped the handkerchief he'd used to wipe his hands.
And with his final words, he turned and hastened back into the palace shrouded in the aura of ruin.
"You dreamed such a happy dream, Your Majesty. Now wake up and face reality. See what becomes of a fallen dynasty that dared gaze at the heavens."
Cough!
His mind began to fade.
In the end, Wilhelm II vomited blood and watched a lantern show smeared with regrets and agony.
My son... my son Richard, my one precious boy. I've left him such a heavy burden.
The last thing he saw through his dimming vision was the bloodstained crown.
The paths and villages the Redskins passed through were left utterly barren, not a blade of grass spared.
They trampled everything thoroughly, leaving no room for the people to rise up on their own.
The silver lining was that the eastern army from Sodom, marching late behind them, followed the very paths they'd swept through.
They'd vowed to found a new dynasty for the sake of the people themselves—how could they ignore these pitiful souls whose homes and hearths were gone?
Dismounting, Richard personally tended to them, even yielding spots on the supply wagons so they could flee safely to Sodom.
Watching him, the eastern army's morale rose with each passing hour.
The sense of mission to save the east now took root in every soldier's heart.
Thus, while tending to the ravaged lands, the eastern army arrived just before the Redskin forces, who were marching toward the fallen metropolis of Kutna and the capital.
Pitch camp.
Everyone was exhausted from the forced march.
I led the eastern army up to a hilly area overlooking the nearby borderlands and ordered them to set up camp for rest.
The Redskins occupying Kutna would soon spot the eastern army advancing to the borderlands.
No need to rush—just wait for the orc bastards to come frothing at the mouth.
"One, two!"
"Raaah, pull!"
With such vast numbers mobilized, even pitching camp was no small task.
I took the lead in constructing the camp myself, helping those still clumsy at such duties.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
But at that moment, Ronald returned to camp from scouting the plains below the hill, something dangling from his saddle.
"Milord! Look at this!"
"Redskin bastards."
"They were prowling nearby."
What Ronald had tied to his saddle was the hideously contorted face of an orc.
He'd beheaded an enemy scout on sight and brought it back.
"Well done."
That's Ronald for you.
He'd preempted a potential pre-camp raid.
After praising the capable man, I handed him a clean cloth and canteen, inquiring about the scouting report.
"Did you find the terrain I mentioned?"
"It's not far. But are you sure about this? It's not favorable ground."
Any ordinary commander would naturally choose a defensive hill for battle.
But I'd selected the exact opposite as our battlefield, and tomorrow, we'd face the Redskins there.
"No issue. Trust me."
"...I'll follow you with my life, milord."
If it seemed impossible, he wouldn't even attempt it.
No—if it was impossible, he still would.
I nodded to the bowing Ronald, then called out to the group.
"Sir Ronald, scout the vicinity every two hours. Deploy the entire cavalry if needed—just keep our position hidden until dawn tomorrow."
"Understood!"
"Helena! Once camp's set, feed the soldiers well. Let them rest enough to recover fully."
"Leave it to me."
All preparations were complete.
With the set time and battlefield secured, I gripped my heavy scabbard tight.
This was a battle for one decisive engagement.
The great war that would uproot not just the eastern kingdom but the dark age of human history lay just one day away.
Drip, drop.
As if sensing the tension peaking, the heavens responded to the east's long sorrows and tears with an early winter rain.
The world grew damp.