Chapter 187: Counterattack (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 187: Counterattack (2)
While Flora Lawrence felt a surge of positive emotions during the meeting, Rodwell Dmitry couldn't hide his inner turmoil.
'...That man is Roman Dmitry?'
The commander of the Kingdom Army.
When he made his appearance, the soldiers of the Western Front parted like the sea, letting out deafening cheers. Roman Dmitry was their symbol of hope. The fact that he had suppressed the rebellion and arrived at the Western Front in just three days meant that Cairo was no longer in peril, even under the relentless onslaught of the Kronos Empire.
His past deeds spoke for themselves.
He had defeated the Hector Kingdom, become the First Sword of Cairo, and even brought down Marquis Benedict. Even though the people here had never witnessed Roman Dmitry's prowess firsthand, they looked at him with blind, absolute trust.
It was an overwhelming sight.
Rodwell Dmitry, who had forced his injured body onto the battlefield, watched the scene with trembling eyes just like the rest of the soldiers. It made absolutely no sense. The figure calmly accepting the reverence of the masses was far too different from the Roman Dmitry he remembered.
Then came the meeting.
It was a continuous series of shocks. Seeing him ruthlessly press the leadership, demanding to know their best options, triggered a severe dissonance with Rodwell's memories.
'The Roman Dmitry I remember was a wreck who lived soaked in alcohol. His life was completely detached from swordsmanship, and he was constantly dragged away by the guards after causing scenes in taverns. Not much time has passed since then. How could a person change so much in such a short span of time?'
Logically speaking, it was impossible.
Whenever he heard the rumors, the question that always plagued him was how the pathetic figure in his memories could have possibly reached the 5-Star Realm.
Roman Dmitry's voice. Roman Dmitry's face.
It was definitely him.
Although his demeanor was far more refined than before, the familiar traces on his face proved he was indeed Roman Dmitry. In truth, Rodwell had already accepted reality to some extent. Even if only half the rumors were true, Roman could no longer be called the Fool of Dmitry.
Throughout the entire meeting, Rodwell's gaze remained fixed on his older brother. The shock was only magnified by the fact that he found himself agreeing with every single word Roman said.
The meeting ended.
Inhaling the crisp night air, Rodwell Dmitry looked up at the sky.
'...I lived with the sole determination to elevate our family's name on the Western Front. Yet, in a single moment, Roman Dmitry made everything I achieved look meaningless. Is it a difference in talent? Everyone used to call me the future of Dmitry, but was all my effort actually nothing more than a futile struggle?'
He accepted the truth. Roman Dmitry was, without a doubt, his older brother.
And because of that, a bitter wave of self-deprecation washed over him.
Even when the man he called his brother was living like a wreck, Rodwell had worked tirelessly. Now, it felt as though the gap between them had been inverted in an instant. His left eye throbbed. In exchange for defeating an opponent who was absolutely nothing compared to the monsters Roman had brought down, Rodwell had permanently lost his sight in that eye.
It was miserable. What had he been striving for all this time?
Right then—
"Rodwell."
It was a familiar voice.
The hairs on his entire body stood on end. As Rodwell turned his head with a stiff expression, the brother from his memories stood there, looking quietly back at him.
* * *
Sharp, defined features. A commanding voice.
It was definitely Roman Dmitry. Yet, unlike the face that evoked memories of the past, Roman now exuded an imposing aura that made him seem completely unapproachable.
"I heard your eye is in bad shape."
At the sudden question, Rodwell couldn't hide a hint of fluster. He hadn't expected Roman, who hadn't acknowledged him even once since arriving at the Western Front, to ask about his well-being.
"You don't need to worry about it."
"Your sacrifice allowed us to deal with the mages of the Kronos Empire. You did well. If you hadn't executed the plan perfectly, the Western Front wouldn't have held out until I arrived."
Rodwell fell silent.
It was incredibly awkward. This conversation, this entire situation. Roman Dmitry, standing before him as his older brother, felt entirely foreign.
It was the same for Roman. Yet, despite the awkwardness, he was the one who had initiated the conversation.
'Rodwell Dmitry. My flesh and blood.'
Over the past year, their father had constantly repeated those words.
Rodwell had been mature since childhood, always trying to solve his own problems, but in the end, he was still only a young man in his early twenties. Thus, their father wished for Roman, as the older brother, to look after him. Although their father knew their relationship was strained due to the succession issue, from a parent's perspective, both were his precious children.
The term "flesh and blood."
To Roman Dmitry—no, to Baek Joong-hyuk—it was not a pleasant phrase. Simply because he was the son of the Heavenly Demon, he had been forced into brutal competition, climbing to the absolute peak by stepping over the corpses of his own kin.
However, this life was different.
Roman Dmitry had accepted new bonds. While those who remembered the Fool of Dmitry looked at him with prejudice, he never rejected those who accepted his new self. One by one, he forged connections in this current life. Hans was one, Chris and Kevin were included, and Flora Lawrence was the same.
And now, he had met Rodwell Dmitry.
Although everything he had heard proved that Rodwell disliked him, Roman didn't care.
'When I began this new life, Hans gave me blind devotion for the sole reason that I was Roman Dmitry. He could have rejected and despised me like the others, but because Hans approached me first, I was able to quickly adapt to this world. My relationship with Rodwell Dmitry is the same. There is no reason to stubbornly wait for the other party to approach. Just as I forged connections with others in this life, I need to build a new relationship with Rodwell.'
He looked at the second son of Dmitry, his younger brother. No matter what Rodwell thought of him, Roman intended to take the first step.
It wasn't just because of his father's request. The simple fact that he was his younger brother—that alone made Rodwell worthy of being brought into his fold. Unlike his past life, where siblings were merely rivals in a fratricidal war, in this life, he accepted family as family.
Roman spoke.
"I suppose my presence is still not very welcome to you. But keep this one thing in mind."
He looked at Rodwell's ruined eye.
Though he tried not to show it, Rodwell had lost an eye at the tender age of his early twenties. It was impossible for him to be unaffected. Even if Rodwell tried to act calm, Roman didn't miss the deep bitterness swirling in his remaining eye.
"You are my brother. If you follow me to the battlefield, I will show you what it means to live as a member of the Dmitry family from now on. In exchange for Roman Dmitry's brother, Rodwell Dmitry, losing an eye, the Kronos Empire will have to pay with countless lives."
In that instant, Rodwell's gaze shook.
It was completely unexpected—both that Roman had initiated the conversation, and that he was saying such heavy words. Just as Hans had accepted him for who he was, Roman was fully embracing the rough edges of Rodwell Dmitry.
"So remember. The fact that you and I are brothers."
On a night when the sky was filled with stars, the two brothers truly reunited.
* * *
At that same time, the Kronos Empire was facing a disastrous situation.
[...Marquis Benedict's rebellion has completely failed. Now that Roman Dmitry's Kingdom Army has arrived at the Western Front, there is no reason for the Kronos Empire to waste any more time. It would be best to withdraw your forces.]
The voice belonged to Baron Charlton of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
Withdrawal.
Irritation flared in Count Fabio's chest. For him, retreating his forces like this was utterly unacceptable.
"Those worthless bastards. We went out of our way to attack the Western Front for them, and they couldn't even hold out for a single day before collapsing. Baron Charlton, I understand the reason for withdrawal, but we have suffered non-negligible damage over the past few days. Does it make any sense to run away with our tails between our legs without accomplishing anything? Give me just one more day. Within that time, I will firmly imprint the empire's terrifying presence onto those fools who don't know their place."
It was no longer a matter of strategic victory or defeat.
Right after the Great Warrior Battle, seeing his mages get swept away by magic traps, Count Fabio realized they had fallen right into the enemy's hands. He couldn't blame the opponent. The Cairo Kingdom had sent out a Great Warrior and fought a fair duel; losing the mages because he failed to anticipate the trap was entirely his own responsibility.
That was exactly why his insides boiled with rage. Just thinking about how he had been dealt such a heavy blow by a mere kingdom like Cairo made him bolt upright in bed whenever he tried to sleep.
Just once. He wanted to get revenge one last time. Setting aside any practical benefits, this was a matter of imperial pride.
[I understand how you feel, Count Fabio. However, the opponent has now been joined by Roman Dmitry's Kingdom Army. Roman Dmitry is an extremely aggressive individual, and a single misstep could result in losses we cannot afford. Count Fabio, the Kronos Empire is currently focusing on the conflict with the Kingdom Alliance. If you lose your forces, the repercussions will inevitably affect the southern front. Think carefully. Do you still wish to continue this war to the bitter end?]
"...Ahem."
Count Fabio cleared his throat, unable to hide his discomfort.
Charlton wasn't lying. This war had been fought using the forces stationed on the Western Front. If they suffered massive casualties in a battle against the Cairo Kingdom, they would have no choice but to pull troops from elsewhere to plug the gap. When that happened, he wouldn't be able to escape responsibility. Not only would he have lost to the Cairo Kingdom, but the crime of negatively impacting the conflict with the Kingdom Alliance wasn't something that could be brushed off with a simple apology.
Ultimately, he had to yield.
"Damn it. Fine. I will withdraw the troops as soon as day breaks tomorrow."
Count Fabio accepted reality. His insides were still boiling with fury, but what could he do? There was no other way.
[You made the right decision.]
With those final words, Count Fabio irritably cut off the communication.
* * *
The next day, the Kronos Empire immediately began their withdrawal. They packed up their camp early in the morning and commenced their retreat before the sun even reached its zenith.
"Commander. I will leave scouts behind, just in case."
"There is no need."
"But wouldn't that be dangerous? If the Cairo Kingdom sends a pursuit squad, they might catch us by the tail."
The adjutant's advice was a sound military judgment. Choosing to withdraw didn't mean simply turning their backs and walking away; they needed to monitor the enemy's movements through scouts.
Normally, Count Fabio would have listened to his adjutant. However, having spent an agonizing night stewing in his own rage, he glared at the man with aggressive, bloodshot eyes.
"Do you really think a pathetic place like Cairo would dare send a pursuit squad against the Kronos Empire? The only reason the enemy could even stand against us was entirely due to the existence of those castle walls. If they foolishly open the gates and send a pursuit squad like you say, we can simply crush them right then and there, and then tear down the Western Front."
They were on a vast plain. There was nowhere to take cover here. In a head-on clash of their respective forces, he refused to believe they would ever lose to the Cairo Kingdom.
If anything, he prayed they would come out of the castle. If Cairo made such a monumental mistake, they would pay the ultimate price for their arrogance.
"Understood."
The adjutant bowed and withdrew. He, too, had no choice but to acquiesce to Count Fabio's command.
Leaving scouts behind was a basic precaution for a worst-case scenario, but even that scenario didn't pose much of a threat to the mighty Kronos Empire. Perhaps because of that ingrained arrogance, the imperial army organized their retreating column in an incredibly complacent manner.
Normally, an army would form as tight a formation as possible to prepare for a sudden enemy attack, but now they marched in a long, stretched-out line. If they were attacked, they ran the severe risk of having their forces cut right down the middle.
Even knowing this, the Kronos Empire marched on boldly, completely unguarded.
'Cairo Kingdom. Right now, it might seem like your time has come after suppressing the rebellion, but falling to the status of an imperial vassal state is only a matter of time. Cairo is merely a stepping stone for our continental conquest. The moment the Kronos Empire leads its main forces to the Western Front once more, absolutely nothing will be able to stop the empire's march.'
Count Fabio smirked. Thinking of the enemy's grim future brought him a sliver of comfort. Riding his horse at a leisurely pace, he pleasantly envisioned the fiery downfall of the Cairo Kingdom.
How long had they marched?
Around the time the sun reached its zenith, casting down its intense midday rays, the adjutant who had withdrawn earlier came galloping back, his face deathly pale.
"Commander! The enemy has appeared! The enemy has ambushed our rear!"
"What?!"
In that instant, Count Fabio doubted his own ears.
The enemy had attacked their rear? That meant they had actually opened the castle gates and marched out.
"Excellent. Those Cairo fools have made a fatal mistake."
Grip.
Neigh!
He aggressively pulled his horse's reins. If the enemy had willingly crawled out of their shell...
"Issue orders to the soldiers immediately! Slaughter every single one of those Cairo insects who don't know their place!"
Count Fabio's eyes gleamed. He judged that this was the perfect opportunity to exact his bloody revenge.