Chapter 180: For a Definitive End (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 180: For a Definitive End (6)
Swoosh! Swoosh!
Arrows blotted out the sky.
At the sudden shower of falling steel, Count Fabius gripped his reins tight and raised his shield over his head.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Argh!"
"Urgh!"
Soldiers struck by the volley collapsed on the spot.
Though they raised their shields and wore heavy armor, they couldn't completely protect themselves from the hundreds of arrows raining down simultaneously. The shafts found the gaps, piercing precisely into soft flesh. Fallen soldiers writhed and screamed on the ground, but the troops rushing up from behind paid them no heed, charging fiercely toward the castle walls.
At the vanguard.
Rode Fabius.
He pushed forward alongside the other mounted knights, his eyes locked dead ahead. As the castle walls drew closer, his heart pounded frantically.
Thump, thump.
He was no longer a young man.
No one would have blamed him if he had stayed in the rear, shouting orders like the other nobles, but he had staked his life on this choice. Because of his bat-like tendency to switch sides, people called him the "Raccoon of Cairo." His habit of shifting allegiances made many sneer, but there was a reason he had survived for so long.
Give your absolute best to every choice.
That was Fabius's motto.
Having betrayed Marquis Benedict to follow Roman Dmitry, he dedicated himself to the Dmitry family as if today were his last.
It had been the same on the Southern Front.
He had taken the risks everyone else avoided, all to prove his worth.
Whoosh!
Roar!
Flames rained down from the sky.
Fabius gritted his teeth and charged forward.
Even as knights right beside him were struck by arrows and collapsed, even as screams echoed from all directions, his eyes remained fixed solely on the breach in the wall. In his younger days, he too had roamed battlefields and overcome countless crises. He knew that on the battlefield, once a decision was made, half-hearted hesitation would only hasten your death.
And so...
Crunch!
"Die!"
He leaped straight through the breach in the wall.
The moment his warhorse's hooves crushed a soldier's skull, Count Fabius leaped from his mount and swung his sword like lightning. Blood splattered. Though he did not possess the formidable might of an Aura Swordsman, he still had enough strength to easily cut down ordinary soldiers. At the same time, the rest of the forces flooded in. Count Fabius and his knights had merely arrived a moment earlier; in an instant, the area inside the walls transformed into a screaming hell.
"Kill all the traitors!"
The battle had begun in earnest.
Count Fabius frantically slashed at the enemies rushing toward him. No matter how many he cut down in this confined, enemy-infested space, their numbers showed no sign of thinning. After only a few swings of his sword, he began to lose his breath. Having lived a comfortable life in the capital, and given his advanced age, Count Fabius simply could not maintain his initial overwhelming momentum.
However...
'Haste.'
Flash!
He activated an artifact.
As a blue light enveloped his body, his movements became agile, defying his age and allowing him to overcome the crisis.
Fabius was not foolish enough to throw his life away blindly.
Had he been struck by an arrow, the Shield engraved on his armor would have activated. To survive this chaotic battlefield, he had spent a fortune purchasing buff-type artifacts. It was true that he had risked his life at the vanguard, but he had done so only after maximizing his chances of survival, deliberately staging a dramatic entrance.
Performance.
It was an essential element.
Count Fabius was a man who demanded to be recognized in proportion to his achievements.
Slash!
He severed an enemy's neck.
That made ten.
Perhaps because his strength was waning, he struggled to cleanly cut through the neck bone in a single blow.
"Pant, pant."
He gasped for breath.
His role was finished.
He no longer dared to charge any further forward.
In this land that had turned into a mutual slaughterhouse, Count Fabius did not push himself recklessly. In any case, his individual actions would not sway the tide of battle from this point onward. Having fully accomplished his role as the vanguard, he focused on catching his breath while keeping a wary eye on his surroundings.
And...
'From now on, it is Roman Dmitry's time.'
Fabius watched.
Roman Dmitry.
He was unleashing an absolute slaughter against the dark waves of incoming enemies.
* * *
The vanguard.
This was not a matter that could be left entirely to Fabius.
Roman Dmitry had always taken the vanguard on the battlefield, and this time was no different.
Behind Fabius,
Roman Dmitry appeared.
At the sight of him initiating a massacre the very moment he breached the walls, the soldiers of the Noble Faction screamed in terror.
"Block him!"
"It's Roman Dmitry!"
"The Devil of Cairo is here! Kill him at all costs!"
Amidst the screaming hell, the desperate soldiers bared their murderous intent toward Roman Dmitry.
Every nearby soldier rushed at him at once. Since he was deep in enemy territory, it looked as though Roman Dmitry would be swallowed by the surging tide. But the outcome was entirely different. In the blink of an eye, the bodies of those who clashed with him were torn to shreds, scattering blood and death everywhere.
Splat!
"Aaargh!"
He became entangled in the fray.
From a distance, it was impossible to make out the details, but every time a soldier of the Noble Faction screamed, blood sprayed into the air. Roman Dmitry was drenched in blood in an instant. Covered in crimson, he did not slow down, pushing forward as if the sheer number of enemies meant nothing to him.
His entire surroundings were crawling with enemies.
When he cut down the enemy in front of him, they rushed from both sides; when he slashed those on his flanks, they lunged from behind. They displayed a desperate desire to kill him before they could be slain by the Devil, but their ambitions were quickly smothered in agonizing pain. Their bodies burned hot. By the time they realized what was happening, a limb would be missing, spraying a fountain of blood.
An absolute slaughter.
It was entirely one-sided.
Like a wolf let loose among a flock of sheep, any enemy who crossed paths with Roman Dmitry collapsed with a final, dying shriek.
A path opened.
They had no choice but to yield.
As the men standing in his way died, the space they left behind became his path.
How far had he advanced?
Deep within enemy lines, Roman Dmitry stood alone.
Though his allies followed behind, they could not carve through the enemy ranks as swiftly as he did.
It was then.
"Now! Attack, everyone!"
The Guard Captain of Benedict Castle roared like thunder.
* * *
Throughout this sequence of events, Cameron witnessed Roman Dmitry's overwhelming might.
It was as if a natural disaster had struck; human strength was far too fragile to dare oppose it.
'So this is the Devil of Cairo.'
Goosebumps broke out all over his skin.
Now he understood why the Hector Kingdom had lost despite completely capturing the Southern Front—it was all because of this single man, Roman Dmitry. How could anyone hold out when such a monster was tearing them apart from the inside? Although Cameron did not dare to face Roman himself, he had no intention of backing down just yet.
'We already factored in the possibility of Roman Dmitry breaching the wall. The First Sword of Cairo... With his aggressive nature, Roman Dmitry will surely overextend himself, and that will be our golden opportunity to eliminate him.'
He had bided his time.
Waiting for the perfect opportunity.
Once Roman Dmitry was sufficiently isolated from his allies, Cameron bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Now! Attack, everyone!"
"Charge!"
Boom!
Rumble!
Aura flared from all directions.
To deal with this single enemy, the Noble Faction had mobilized every remaining Aura Swordsman from their respective families. Their sole target was Roman Dmitry. These swordsmen, who had held their ground even while Count Fabius breached the wall and wreaked havoc inside, charged all at once at Cameron's command.
One hundred swordsmen.
It was an overwhelming sight.
Unleashing their Aura simultaneously, they lunged straight at Roman Dmitry.
However...
Splat!
The very first one.
The swordsman who charged first was instantly sliced in half.
His sword, which had been shimmering with Aura, instantly lost its light. The swordsman's eyes widened in disbelief as he was cut down along with his weapon. That was only the beginning. Though various forms of Aura erupted to strike Roman Dmitry, the attackers were sent flying in all directions, coughing up blood the moment they clashed with him.
With each of Roman's strikes, three Aura Swordsmen were swept away.
Whether they possessed a 1-Star Aura or a 3-Star Aura, they were equally powerless to block his attacks. The faces that had been filled with confidence just moments ago quickly paled with terror. Something was wrong. Surely, a force of a hundred swordsmen should have guaranteed an overwhelming victory, yet as time passed, the presence of these Aura Swordsmen seemed entirely meaningless.
Ordinary soldiers or Aura Swordsmen—the outcome was no different.
Before they could even mount a proper offense, their heads were severed, and their Aura-clad swords were snapped as easily as the weapons of common foot soldiers.
Crack!
A fist slammed into a face.
A swordsman crumbled, staggering to the ground.
Roman Dmitry did not stop.
In this war, he did not merely seek victory.
In the process of punishing the traitors, he intended to show the world exactly how the Dmitry family dealt with its enemies. To ensure such a precedent would never be repeated, Roman Dmitry made his presence known. Completely overwhelming the hundred swordsmen, he slaughtered them as if they were nothing more than common soldiers.
"This... this makes no sense."
Cameron was horrified.
One hundred swordsmen.
When mobilizing them, the Noble Faction had smiled with confidence.
They were certain that no matter how monstrous Roman Dmitry was, he could not possibly handle such numbers.
Yet, what on earth was this?
This was not human strength.
Roman Dmitry was a being unlike any ever seen in Cairo.
Thud.
Another life was extinguished.
Though the Devil of Cairo likely didn't care, that particular swordsman had been regarded as the strongest among the hundred. Staring at the corpse whose eyes remained wide open in disbelief, Cameron unconsciously took a step back.
It was over.
The castle walls had lost all meaning.
And the idea of subduing Roman Dmitry in melee combat was a delusion completely detached from reality.
'I must report this to the leadership.'
He turned around.
There were still many soldiers on the battlefield waiting for his orders.
Yet, without a single moment of hesitation, Cameron quickly fled.
* * *
The leadership of the Noble Faction.
They were gathered in a safe location.
As they waited anxiously for the results, they finally received a voice communication from the castle walls.
[W-We have a major crisis!]
It was Cameron.
In a voice thick with terror, Cameron reported the grim reality.
[The walls have been completely breached! The magic defense formation has failed, and it is only a matter of time before the castle walls are completely overrun by the Kingdom Army. Above all, there is no way to stop Roman Dmitry! We deployed the Aura Swordsmen mobilized from each family, but even they were unilaterally slaughtered!]
"…Damn it."
On the other side of the communicator, Marquis Benedict's face turned pale.
Dizziness washed over him.
Just a day ago, with the backing of the Kronos Empire, he had anticipated a rosy future. Yet Benedict Castle, hailed as an iron fortress, could not hold out for even a single day. Fighting to the death here was madness. Knowing this, the leadership of the Noble Faction hadn't gone anywhere near the walls in the first place.
[You must escape quickly… Urgh!]
A final, dying gasp echoed through the device.
Marquis Benedict froze.
Chills ran down his spine.
The sound of a life being cut short meant that someone had killed Cameron.
[Marquis Benedict.]
It was a familiar voice.
Roman Dmitry had caught up at last, grabbing the communicator with blood-stained hands.
[Over the past week, you have committed atrocities that threatened the safety of the nation. You mobilized the Noble Faction to attack Dmitry, tried to drag other nobles into your rebellion, and ultimately allowed the Kronos Empire to interfere in our civil war. I believe there is a limit to mistakes. And the things you have done are not the kind that can be undone.]
His voice was chillingly cold.
Even though no one answered, Roman Dmitry did not stop speaking.
[I assure you, no mercy or redemption will be granted to you. So, struggle to the very end. Even if you fall to your knees, bow your heads, shed tears, and scream your sins until your throats tear, I will execute every single one of you, along with your families, for high treason.]
The silence between his words made even the briefest pause feel like an eternity.
They held their breath.
They did not want Roman Dmitry to realize they were on the other end of the line.
[We will meet soon.]
Click.
The connection went dead.
Their hearts sank.
The message left by that one-sided call was absolute.
Marquis Benedict and the other nobles could only stare at the communicator with terror-stricken faces.