Chapter 242: Certain Death (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 242: Certain Death (2)
At first, when word spread that Roman Dmitry had been attacked, the people of Valhalla dismissed it as a baseless rumor.
"Does that even make sense? This is Valhalla. What kind of lunatic would dare attack Roman Dmitry on imperial soil? It has to be a misunderstanding. I heard a massive crowd was following him—maybe some trouble broke out during the procession."
On imperial soil.
Who would dare touch a warrior respected by Valhalla?
The citizens of Valhalla would never do such a thing, which meant it had to be the work of a foreign nation. But that made even less sense. Even for the Kronos Empire, mobilizing forces to assassinate someone deep within Valhalla's territory was practically impossible.
How would they even cross the border?
Besides, there was no way the Valhalla Empire would just stand by and watch such an absurdity unfold.
However, the rumors soon caught fire.
Eyewitnesses stepped forward with detailed testimonies and concrete proof: video recordings.
"The ones who attacked Roman Dmitry are definitely the 'Shadows' of the Kronos Empire. Those absolute bastards. First, they openly declare their intent to assassinate him, and now they dare set foot on Valhalla's soil to do it? Everyone, look at this video! It shows exactly what happened."
Viewing the footage required a magic artifact, meaning the general public couldn't watch it directly. However, word of mouth from those who had seen it spread like wildfire, quickly carrying the news of what had happened to Roman Dmitry.
The video captured the raw truth. It showed the massive procession following Roman Dmitry, and when the Shadows launched their sudden ambush, Roman Dmitry immediately raised his voice, shouting for his men to evacuate the citizens of Valhalla first.
That single scene deeply moved the people.
Seeing him prioritize the lives of Valhalla's citizens while under direct attack was profoundly touching.
Of course, this was exactly what Roman Dmitry had intended.
Drawing the crowd in to use them as 'witnesses' and keeping the citizens out of harm's way were calculated moves to ensure every moment was recorded. He knew Valhalla would never openly show their murderous intent. Attacking Roman Dmitry while he was attending Valhalla's festival would shake the very foundations of the empire, leaving them with only one viable option: to stand by and do nothing.
In other words, Roman's goal was to force Valhalla into a corner by making them bear the public responsibility for this entire situation—the very thing they wanted to avoid.
Public outrage erupted.
The people vented their fury over the attack, boiling with rage as if ready to declare war immediately. They claimed this was a blatant insult to Valhalla by the Kronos Empire. Everyone clamored to aid Roman Dmitry. Had they been ignorant of the truth, it would be one thing, but now that they knew he was facing Kronos's threat on their soil, they felt duty-bound to ensure his safe return.
The people cried out, "Lord Roman Dmitry personally showed us what the pride of Valhalla truly means! If such a man is slaughtered by another empire on our own soil, we will never have the right to speak of Valhalla's pride again! Citizens of Valhalla, rise up! We must lend our strength to ensure Lord Roman Dmitry returns safely!"
A feverish fervor swept through the populace.
All eyes turned toward the Valhalla Imperial Court. Pressed by the citizens' fierce demands for intervention, the Imperial Court had no choice but to announce that they would mobilize their forces.
But.
A day passed.
Then two.
Even after a week had flown by, the Valhalla Imperial Court did not dispatch a single soldier to aid Roman Dmitry.
* * *
The Valhalla Imperial Court.
They were careful not to directly oppose the tide of public opinion. While feigning outrage at the Kronos Empire's audacity, they fabricated unavoidable excuses for their inability to assist Roman Dmitry.
"The Shadows of the Kronos Empire are targeting Valhalla's key figures alongside Roman Dmitry. It is clear that their assault on him is a mere diversion to mask their true, insidious objectives. Citizens of Valhalla, do not panic. They have openly declared hostility against our empire, and the Valhalla Imperial Court will not allow them a single victory, regardless of what they plot."
This was the official stance of the Valhalla Imperial Court.
It was entirely devoid of truth. No key figures of Valhalla had actually been attacked, but fabricating evidence to support their claims was child's play. Suddenly, reports of Shadow sightings cropped up all over Valhalla. It was a calculated ploy to dilute the public's focus on Roman Dmitry, providing a perfect pretext to withhold military aid under the guise of exercising extreme caution.
If Roman Dmitry died, they wouldn't escape all blame.
However, a calculated, justified bystanderism was far better at placating public fury than openly sending him to his death.
False rumors.
Valhalla was cunning. Despite their reputation as a nation of straightforward warriors, they knew exactly how to manipulate public opinion to control the narrative. Had the Kronos Empire truly invaded Valhalla's territory without permission, it would have triggered an immediate war. But because Valhalla had quietly sanctioned this, they intended to sweep it under the rug later by holding Kronos nominally accountable.
It was a beautifully orchestrated stage.
They stood by with deliberate apathy. While the court spewed empty words of fury and promised reinforcements, Roman Dmitry's forces were left entirely on their own to fend off the relentless assaults of the Shadows.
On the first day, the Shadows launched a direct, open assault.
From the second day onward, they shifted tactics, launching long-range skirmishes under the cover of night. Whenever Roman Dmitry's men tried to rest, the enemy would invariably make noise to announce their presence—a psychological tactic designed to deny them even a moment of peace.
Furthermore, if there were any wells or water sources nearby, the Shadows poisoned them without fail, cutting off any chance of securing supplies from the outside. Their strategy was clear. They weren't trying to kill Roman Dmitry in a day or two; instead, they were exploiting Valhalla's deliberate inaction to drag out the conflict over a month, slowly grinding him down.
By the tenth day, Valhalla finally dispatched a force, purely to maintain the illusion that they were trying to help.
Of course, they had no intention of actually intervening. The convenient excuse of deactivated Warp Gates allowed them to blame the vast distance for their slow progress.
The tension grew increasingly palpable.
The public's gaze remained fixed on Roman Dmitry. The citizens of Valhalla were so consumed by his plight that they could barely focus on their daily lives, hanging on every piece of news.
Around that time, a group of people sought out Roman Dmitry.
They were not sent by the Valhalla Imperial Court. They were Sanchez and his followers.
* * *
Valhalla's inaction.
Kronos's relentless assaults.
Sanchez was seething with rage. Having learned the truth, he immediately sought out those who had once followed his master, Morales, and raised his voice.
"We must aid Roman Dmitry! If our master were still alive, he would never have stood by and watched the death of the man who proved Valhalla's pride by defeating Barbosa! We cannot trust the Imperial Court. Rather than waiting for those who are in league with the enemy, let us show them what the true pride of Valhalla is!"
Valhalla was a nation that once understood romance.
Though it had been corrupted by the harsh realities of politics, those who followed Morales still harbored a burning fire in their chests.
They gathered to form a militia.
It had taken considerable time to organize themselves since the Eve Festival, but eventually, a force of several hundred followed Sanchez to find Roman Dmitry. Their strength could not be measured by numbers alone. As Morales's disciples and followers, most of them were wildmen or veterans who had spent their entire lives on the battlefield, seasoned in the art of war.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Sanchez looked at Roman Dmitry and spoke.
"Lord Roman Dmitry. From this moment on, we will fight by your side."
His words were sincere.
Sanchez was risking his life. Though this action set him on a path directly opposing the ruling class, he had never cared for power while following Morales. Born as a warrior of Valhalla, he desired a meaningful death far more than wealth and glory.
Yet, Roman Dmitry's response was unexpected.
"I appreciate your willingness to help. However, do not harbor the vain hope that you can make a difference. The Kronos Empire anticipated from the very beginning that patriots like you would step forward. Mark my words: this decision of yours will only lead you to your graves."
"...That is fine. If we had wished to live, we wouldn't have come here in the first place."
"Foolish fools."
Sanchez and his warriors did not seek practical gain. Even in the face of Roman Dmitry's grim warning, their resolve did not waver.
But Roman Dmitry knew their presence would not change the tide of the battle.
"It is already too late to turn back. Though, I suppose it is fortunate that you are facing this danger of your own free will."
Too late.
Those words carried a literal meaning. The moment Roman Dmitry drew his sword, a flash of lightning split the sky, momentarily banishing the darkness shrouding the surrounding forest.
Flash!
The landscape lit up. Yet, even as the natural darkness receded, the dense thickets remained stained with an unnatural, pitch-black gloom.
Hundreds—no, thousands of Shadows.
They had finally unleashed their murderous intent.
* * *
This was different from the first day.
As the Shadows surged forward like a tidal wave, a tempest of dark mana erupted from the rear.
"Dark Lightning!"
Rumble! Crash!
The sky flashed. Bolts of pitch-black lightning rained down, vaporizing the living creatures caught in their path.
A faction of the Shadows—the demons of the Abyss.
In response to their devastating magic, Roman Dmitry's soldiers moved in perfect unison.
"Enemy attack!"
"Form defensive formations!"
The moment the lightning struck, Roman Dmitry's soldiers raised a magic defense barrier.
Ever since the Phoenix Magic Tower had joined their ranks, they had trained relentlessly to counter mages. Having been warned by Roman to prepare for an attack the instant he sensed the enemy, the soldiers did not panic, executing their defense flawlessly.
It was then that the Shadows, closing in from all directions, launched a synchronized assault.
Clang! Clash!
The battle erupted.
The Shadows used their overwhelming numbers to swarm the soldiers, with three or four enemies latching onto a single man, exerting suffocating pressure. It was a terrifyingly coordinated display. While two Shadows blocked a soldier's path with their daggers, another would manipulate the shadows on the ground to bind his feet, rendering him immobile.
Then, from above, another Shadow would plunge down.
Cloaked in darkness and propelled by sudden momentum, the assassin would drive an Aura-infused dagger straight into the soldier's throat.
Even knowing how they fought, the Shadows were formidable opponents.
To make matters worse, a small army of warlocks backed them, unleashing a relentless barrage of spells from the rear.
"Dark Flame!"
Whoosh! Roar!
Black flames erupted.
The warlocks' magic shattered the soldiers' defensive lines, and the Shadows slipped through the gaps, slashing wildly at everything in sight. Over the past ten days of psychological warfare, Roman Dmitry's soldiers had seemed unfazed, but their stamina had been slowly, imperceptibly chipped away. Sensing that the fruit was ripe for the picking, the Shadows decided that now was the perfect moment to strike, completely ignoring Sanchez and his militia.
Even under such dire circumstances, Roman Dmitry's soldiers did not fall easily.
Grouping themselves into trios, they executed their practiced Joint Attack Techniques, seamlessly covering one another's blind spots. It was an awe-inspiring display of discipline. Though the Shadows' attacks defied common sense, the soldiers' battle-hardened experience had forged them into warriors capable of matching a hundred foes.
In stark contrast, Sanchez and his warriors were thrown into utter chaos.
Unlike Roman's men, they had never faced the Shadows before, and their conventional attacks proved completely useless.
Shatter!
"...?!"
The enemy's body dissolved into thin air.
Sanchez gasped in shock. He barely managed to pull back his sword to block a counterattack, but his fellow warriors were already being slaughtered around him.
"Aaargh!"
"Gah!"
It was a one-sided massacre, a stark contrast to the disciplined defense of Roman Dmitry's men.
Only then did Sanchez truly understand Roman's warning.
Do not harbor the vain hope that you can make a difference.
It hadn't been a harsh attempt to sober them up; it was a literal statement of fact. They were simply out of their depth.
What on earth are they...?
Sanchez's pupils trembled. Through the chaos, he watched the soldiers fighting the Shadows.
While he was fighting for his life, unable to defeat even a single Shadow, Roman's men stood their ground without yielding an inch. A profound sense of awe washed over him. What kind of lives had Roman Dmitry and his soldiers lived to achieve this? Even here, on Valhalla's soil, facing the demons of Kronos, they did not show a single hint of fear or retreat.
Yet, the tide was still turning against them.
The real problem lay with the warlocks. The devastating spells raining down from the rear were too powerful to be completely neutralized by the soldiers' defensive barriers.
It was then.
"Maintain the formation!"
Roman Dmitry roared as he surged forward, cutting through the battlefield.
A swarm of Shadows lunged forward to block his path, but Roman's violently swirling Aura tore them to shreds. Even against multiple foes, the Shadows' unique evasion techniques failed to activate. Before they could dissolve into darkness, the flow of their mana was violently severed, forcing them to cough up blood as they were blasted away.
Instantly, the warlocks locked their eyes on him.
Nearly ten of them emerged from the darkness, casting their spells in unison to target Roman Dmitry.
But there was one thing they did not know.
Felix and the mages who had once fought Roman Dmitry had acknowledged a terrifying truth as they lay defeated on the ground:
"Without a doubt, my Lord is the natural enemy of all mages."
Rumble! Crash!
Mana erupted from all directions.
And Roman Dmitry charged straight into the heart of the magical vortex.