Chapter 320: Prisoners of War (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 320: Prisoners of War (5)
Baron Brighton's eyes went wide.
Never expecting Roman to order a massacre, he scrambled backward and screamed.
"Attack— Urgh?!"
Slash.
Blood splattered.
Before he could even finish his command, a flash of light severed his neck. Clutching his throat as blood sprayed like a fountain, he collapsed to his knees. He tried to force out his next words through the blood and ragged gasps, but in his fading vision, he only saw Chris walking right past him.
"My Lord!"
"Damn it! Attack!"
The knights of the Brighton family flared with rage.
Unleashing their Aura all at once, they bared their murderous intent toward the Dmitry soldiers charging with Chris at the lead.
Boom!
Rumble!
It was a spectacular sight.
Having dealt with Baron Brighton, Chris was the first to clash with the enemy. The Aura exploding from all directions looked ready to swallow him whole, surging forward like a tidal wave. Yet Chris didn't slow down in the slightest. He sliced right through the Aura, severing the heads of the enemies behind it.
"Argh!"
"Aaargh!"
In an instant, a screaming hell unfolded.
Unable to handle Chris, over a dozen men lost their lives in the blink of an eye. Kevin, arriving right behind him, plunged into the enemy ranks. Knights and soldiers alike screamed. They tried to block him while simultaneously launching counterattacks, but Kevin displayed breathtaking movements amidst the chaotic flurry of strikes.
Whoosh.
Crash!
He snapped his head back, dodging an attack.
Instantly slipping inside his opponent's guard, he thrust his sword up under the man's chin. He blocked the strikes targeting his flanks from exquisite angles, then took off their heads. The desperate Brighton knights swung their swords, but the moment they locked eyes with Kevin, their gazes filled with sheer terror.
It had been a mistake from the very beginning.
This was a fight between predators and prey.
Whenever the enemies hesitated out of fear, Kevin drove his sword into their hearts without fail. There was no escape. He closed the distance like a ghost, never backing down even when attacks poured in relentlessly. The Flash of Dmitry and the Devil of Dmitry. They were the very definition of their reputations. Seeing these two lead the vanguard was a highly familiar sight for the soldiers of Dmitry.
However, this time, there was one difference.
Ares.
The newly joined warrior charged toward the castle at breakneck speed, executing Roman Dmitry's command.
* * *
While Jason was being tortured, Count Munez had watched the horrific spectacle, barely swallowing the order to attack that rose to his throat.
It wasn't because he lacked anger.
He was terrified.
He believed that once this moment passed, Roman Dmitry's wrath would no longer be directed at him.
'Roman Dmitry just needs someone to vent his anger on right now. Once he deals with Baron Maekhiton and Jason—the ones who brutally tortured Dmitry’s prisoners—he will withdraw quietly. No matter how crazy Roman Dmitry is, he wouldn't risk a continuous war with the Kronos Empire. Endure it. Just endure it this once.'
The eastern frontline.
Count Munez had been appointed commander here, but he didn't possess any particularly grand patriotism. With the vacuum left by the previous war with Dmitry, he assumed there would be no conflict in the east for the time being. Thus, through the influence of his father-in-law—a powerful backer—he had planned to spend about a year here just to build up his resume as a commander.
That was why Marquis Memphis had excluded Count Munez from the "nobles of the east" as well.
A smooth, guaranteed future awaited him once he returned to the capital.
He wanted to avoid an all-out war at all costs, but Roman Dmitry's order had completely ruined everything.
'Damn it.'
There was no other choice.
In the face of this one-sided slaughter, and seeing Ares charging toward the castle, he made his decision.
"All forces! Attack Dmitry!"
"Attack!"
Thwip.
Swoosh!
Arrows rained down.
Hundreds of shafts painted the sky as the mages of Kronos channeled their mana to cast spells.
"Inferno."
"Fire Cannon."
"Lightning Spear."
Whoosh.
Roar!
Crimson flames erupted in massive explosions. Soldiers who barely managed to escape the fire shuddered violently as electricity coursed through their bodies. Even those who dodged the magic were turned into pincushions by the arrows. The attacks launched from the advantageous high ground of the castle walls were incredibly powerful, but Ares did not slow down.
He dodged the magic.
He deflected the arrows with his sword.
As Ares neared the castle wall, he drew several daggers from his waist and threw them.
Thud.
Thud, thud, thud!
They embedded themselves into the stone.
It was an incomprehensible action.
But the moment Ares leaped off the ground, the onlookers witnessed a shocking sight.
Swish!
Tap, tap, tap!
Ares scaled the wall, using the hilts of the daggers as stepping stones.
It was a scene that defied common sense.
It was hard enough to believe that mere daggers could support his weight, but seeing him step on those tiny surfaces to leap high into the air made them doubt their own eyes. It was physically impossible. Yet Ares turned the impossible into reality, landing atop the enemy-infested wall in the blink of an eye.
"A-Attack!"
"Die!"
Crash!
They rushed him from all sides.
From that moment on, the slaughter began.
Flash.
"Urgh?!"
"Argh!"
Ares plunged deep into the enemy ranks.
He cut down the surging enemies without pause, dodging the mages' spells or rendering them useless by using corpses as meat shields. In the midst of the chaotic battlefield, Ares commanded an overwhelming presence. The one people called the Rising Star of Valhalla had already developed into a complete warrior through countless battles even before he began following Roman Dmitry.
And now, he had received Roman Dmitry's teachings.
Even a small amount of guidance had brought about a monumental leap in his growth. His method of scaling the wall was a technique that integrated a new way of utilizing mana. Ares was undeniably a natural genius. Furthermore, his sheer audacity as a warrior allowed him to slaughter the Kronos knights who rushed him like wild dogs.
Then—
Flash.
Crash!
He severed the chains holding up the castle gate.
Thud!
Rumble!
The heavy iron gate slammed down over the moat.
Ares, by his own strength alone, had breached the gate.
* * *
It was a performance of sorts.
Having sworn allegiance to Roman Dmitry, Ares was proving his worth on the battlefield.
It was shocking.
Not just to the enemy—even Dmitry's soldiers looked astonished.
No one other than Roman Dmitry had ever put on such a display.
Step, step.
Down the wide-open path, Roman Dmitry walked.
The arrows and magic exploding overhead meant nothing to him as he stepped through the breached gate. Beyond it, he saw the terrified faces of the enemy. They shrank back, pushing each other forward at the sight of Roman Dmitry, until one of them finally screamed and charged, sparking a sudden wildfire of courage among the rest.
They turned a blind eye to reality.
Clinging to the fact that there was only one opponent in front of them, they convinced themselves that if hundreds or thousands of them joined forces, they could somehow overcome him.
And so—
Slash!
"Argh!"
The first knight who charged was sliced clean in half along with his sword. Even without channeling Aura into his blade, Roman Dmitry tore through the knight's Aura-infused sword and armor as if they were wet paper. Immediately, other soldiers rushed in. Attacks converged on him like a creeping tide of darkness.
Swish.
Splatter!
He dodged, then slashed open an enemy's chest.
As screams echoed, Roman Dmitry severed their arms, plunging them into an abyss of despair.
He slashed, slashed, and slashed again.
He did not actively use Aura.
Using only the barest trace of it, he carried out a ruthless slaughter in the heart of the enemy lines, relying on sheer physical prowess. This was not mercy. Vaporizing them instantly with a powerful blast of Aura would be too painless a death, so Roman Dmitry deliberately refrained from ending their lives in a single stroke.
This battle was for revenge.
If anyone survived to remember what happened here and tell the world, this horrific carnage would strike terror into the hearts of all who heard it.
He intended to show them exactly what price they would pay for harming Dmitry's people and breaking their promises—even if the opponent was the Kronos Empire. That was the purpose of setting a precedent. By showing an unwavering attitude without making any exceptions, this shocking display would serve as a warning to everyone else.
A warning that they must never, under any circumstances, take Dmitry lightly.
Soon, Dmitry's soldiers poured in behind him.
The Kronos Empire had not stationed many troops in the east due to the ceasefire agreement, but even so, this was an utterly one-sided massacre. Screams echoed from all directions. The memory of Carol crying out in pain fueled the fury of Dmitry's soldiers, and they showed the same cruelty as their lord.
They, too, had been dyed in Dmitry's ways.
Towards their enemies, they had no intention of remaining human.
"...I-it's over. It's impossible to stop Dmitry."
Count Munez despaired.
Roman Dmitry.
There was no way to deal with that monster.
Having lost even when they mobilized the 8th Circle Mage Shepir and an army of 300,000, he only now realized how foolish it was to rely on castle walls for defense. His body trembled violently. Terrified that the specter of death was marching straight toward him, he abandoned his command and hastily turned around.
'If I stay here, I'll die.'
There was no other way.
Escape!
That was his only chance of survival.
Shaking off his adjutants who were screaming his name, he grabbed a horse from the stables and headed straight for the rear gate.
He saw the exit.
He believed that if he could just get through it, he would live.
At that moment—
Whoosh.
Roar!
Flames erupted.
As if possessed by a life of their own, the flames swallowed the gate, blocking his path.
Count Munez's face turned deathly pale.
He heard footsteps approaching from behind.
Step, step.
Only then did he realize.
From the very moment he faced Roman Dmitry's wrath, there had never been a way for him to survive.
* * *
In the grand conference room of Kronos, a man marched forward with a furious expression.
Bang!
He threw the doors open.
Disregarding all etiquette before the Kronos nobles already seated inside, the man raised his voice.
"Marquis Memphis! What on earth is the meaning of this?! Kronos was unilaterally attacked, yet you intend to maintain the ceasefire negotiations?! This is absurd!"
The man was Marquis Croit, one of the most powerful figures in the Kronos Empire.
Though he had recently taken a step back after being overshadowed by Marquis Memphis, he could not sit idly by after hearing the news of Count Munez's brutal murder. Count Munez was his son-in-law. Since Munez was the man chosen by his precious daughter, Marquis Croit had spared no effort in supporting him.
And yet, that very son-in-law was now dead.
In a situation where his rage was already uncontrollable, Kronos's decision to maintain the ceasefire only added fuel to the fire.
"Since when has Kronos been such a coward? The enemy crossed our borders and slaughtered our people, yet you want to let it slide? I will absolutely not tolerate this. If we do not hold Dmitry accountable, the entire continent will laugh at Kronos's weakness!"
He raised his voice, pouring out his fury.
If they did not accept his demands, he looked ready to tear the conference room apart then and there.
Marquis Memphis spoke calmly.
"Our opponent is Roman Dmitry. How do you propose we take revenge?"
"What do you mean by—!"
"Think rationally, Marquis Croit. Kronos has always acted hastily, only to leave behind terrible precedents. When we backed Marquis Benedict to participate in Cairo's rebellion, when we launched a surprise attack after the Valhalla Empire's festival, when we directly attacked Dmitry, and even during the recent total war with Dmitry—every single time, Kronos mobilized more than enough power. Internally, we believed our forces were more than sufficient, yet the results were shockingly overwhelming defeats."
His response was cold.
Marquis Memphis leaned back in his seat at the head of the table and looked at Marquis Croit.
"I am angry too. I am so furious I feel like I might go mad. But those past battles have left us with a clear message. Roman Dmitry is an existence we have no choice but to acknowledge, and eliminating him is impossible with half-hearted preparations."
The history of Kronos had always been adorned with victory.
Kronos, an empire that had never once yielded, now had to admit that they had to make a single exception.
Straightening his posture, Marquis Memphis looked up at Marquis Croit with fierce eyes and asked,
"So I ask you once more. How, exactly, do you plan to punish Roman Dmitry?"