Chapter 359: Chicken Game (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 359: Chicken Game (7)
The magic communicator hummed to life. Speaking on behalf of the Emperor of Valhalla, Marquis Belfir gripped the device tightly.
"Roman Dmitry. So, you truly intend to see this through to the bitter end with Valhalla," the Marquis snarled, his voice fierce. "Not only did you dare to interfere in our civil war, but you also incited the populace to rebel. Do you honestly think Dmitry will remain safe after this?"
Marquis Belfir pressed the attack, venting his fury over the disastrous situation.
[I believe the relationship between Valhalla and Dmitry was clearly established during our last conversation,] Roman's voice crackled through the artifact. [Whether I back down and do nothing, or push even further than I am now—was there ever any room for our relationship to change?]
"Indeed. Just as you said, Valhalla and Dmitry have crossed the point of no return. But you see, malice dictates exactly how much we are willing to sacrifice for revenge. Your current actions are only fueling that malice. Terrorizing dozens of territories, inciting the people of Valhalla to rebel, and setting fire to the Northern Granary... These desperate attempts to shake the very foundations of Valhalla guarantee that we will stop at absolutely nothing to exact our revenge."
He shot a quick glance at the Emperor of Valhalla. The Emperor clearly found this unfolding situation amusing. Seeing that his ruler cared little for the empire's immediate safety, Marquis Belfir remained faithful to his assigned role.
"I assure you, nothing you do will turn the tide. Did you think we wouldn't see through your scheme? You are trying to buy the rebels some breathing room so they can overthrow the Valhalla Imperial Court. How laughable, Roman Dmitry. The rebels of Hernad are already on the brink of collapse. Once today passes—no, even before the sun sets—they will be completely annihilated."
The rebellion was already a settled matter.
Count Gomez had reported that he would crush Hernad within the day, and objectively speaking, there was no way Hernad could hold out. With that, Dmitry's plan was as good as failed. No matter how wildly Roman rampaged in the North, the moment the rebels—the most crucial element of his strategy—were eliminated, it would all be meaningless.
Brimming with confidence, Marquis Belfir issued a forceful warning for him to back down.
However...
[And?]
A low chuckle echoed through the communicator.
From the moment the Emperor of Valhalla deployed a million-strong army to Hernad, the rebels' defeat was a foregone conclusion.
[Unless one is hopelessly optimistic, anyone would know that bringing down the Valhalla Empire with a mere 200,000 rebels was impossible from the start,] Roman continued. [Even so, Duke Vieto made his decision. He attempted a rebellion for the future of Valhalla, and unfortunately, he will pay the price for its failure.]
The nuance was strangely detached. If Marquis Belfir's expectations were correct, Roman Dmitry shouldn't be reacting so calmly.
[That is why we have decided to completely abandon the rebels.]
* * *
Instantly, Marquis Belfir's face contorted in bewilderment.
What on earth did that mean? If the rebels were eliminated, everything would be for naught, yet Roman Dmitry spoke of discarding them without the slightest hesitation.
[The reason we joined forces with the rebels was simply because they would eat away at Valhalla from the inside. What do you think that means? From the beginning, the rebels wanted the power to overthrow the Valhalla Imperial Court, while our priority was simply to use them to inflict as much damage on Valhalla as possible. We did not join hands based on some grand sense of loyalty or trust, but purely out of mutual interest.]
There was no longer anything holding Roman back.
Even if the Valhalla Imperial Court clung to this magic communication, they could no longer appease the anger of their people, an inferno ignited by the massacre the Emperor had already committed. It was a very simple matter. Valhalla viewed the essence of this chicken game through the lens of the rebellion, but Roman Dmitry was looking in an entirely different direction.
[Now that Hernad is falling, why should we cling to the rebels?]
"W-What do you mean by that?"
It was a complete paradigm shift. He had abandoned Hernad. He had given up on the rebels. His next move was not a diversion for their sake, but an action taken solely for Dmitry's benefit.
[My actions were never meant to save the rebels. From now on, I will use the stage they have set to grind down Valhalla's strength as much as possible. If the imperial army and the people crying for rebellion slaughter each other, it benefits Dmitry regardless of who dies. If I burn down the granary, then combined with the aftermath of the rebellion, you won't be able to recover for years. That is my goal. Since the optimal outcome of overthrowing the Valhalla Imperial Court has failed, I will simply trample Valhalla so thoroughly that it can never rise again.]
It was an absurdly amusing situation. Valhalla had fallen for the illusion that Dmitry would never abandon the rebels, foolishly refusing to recall their troops even as the North burned to the ground. From the very beginning, this fight was a win-win for Dmitry. Knowing he would benefit regardless of the outcome, Roman Dmitry had accepted Sanchez's proposal.
A chicken game.
He had crashed into them from a completely different angle. Faced with Roman's choice to abandon the rebels and lay waste to the North, Marquis Belfir's face stiffened in horror.
[Marquis Belfir. I told you, didn't I? If you think you can solve this problem with such complacent thinking... in the end, you will meet me.]
He laughed. From beginning to end, Roman Dmitry had toyed with them.
[You had better keep those words in mind.]
With that final remark...
Click.
The connection went dead.
* * *
Heavy silence fell over the conference room.
Faced with Roman Dmitry's true intentions, the imperial leadership struggled to find their words.
'...We have fallen into a trap.'
They were truly caught between a rock and a hard place. Since the conflict with the populace had already escalated to an extreme, they couldn't simply broadcast their conversation with Roman to calm the masses. On the other hand, even if they recalled their troops now, it wouldn't undo the massive damage already inflicted on the North.
The real problem was that the crisis was still ongoing. The rebels of Hernad were holding out to the bitter end, and thanks to Roman Dmitry's acts of terror, the flames of rebellion were spreading across the entire nation. Meanwhile, Dmitry's army continued to lay waste to the North.
The situation was bleak.
Overwhelmed by the mounting disasters, Marquis Belfir looked to the Emperor of Valhalla with a tense expression.
"Your Majesty... I believe we must recall our troops. The remnants of Hernad are no longer important. If we do not quickly extinguish the flames of rebellion spreading across Valhalla and suppress Dmitry's army, the situation will only worsen. Please, give the order."
"Please, give the order!"
"Please, Your Majesty!"
The leadership of Valhalla raised their voices in unison. They, too, recognized the gravity of the problem. Fearing that staying idle would lead to total ruin, they desperately wanted to recall at least a portion of the million-strong army.
However, the Emperor of Valhalla actually laughed.
"Heh-heh-heh. He certainly is something else. Roman Dmitry is a type of human I have never encountered in my entire life. In a situation where ordinary men would have bent their knees a dozen times over, he bares his fierce fangs, refusing to back down to the very end. Marquis Belfir."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"We will not recall our troops."
"But—!"
"Valhalla still has plenty of forces left besides the troops sent to Hernad. The losses Valhalla must bear from this incident do not matter. What I want is to not take a single step back in this war against Roman Dmitry. Draft troops and send them to the North. Resolve the situation in the granary, and recall the troops sent to Hernad only after they have completely wiped out the rebels."
It was an act of incredible stubbornness.
Roman Dmitry's actions had thoroughly provoked the Emperor. He had cut off any path of retreat by destroying the Warp Gates so that neither side could back down from this chicken game, but Roman Dmitry had countered with the bold move of abandoning the rebels entirely. What an incredibly fascinating turn of events. Thrilled by this dramatic shift in his otherwise tedious life, the Emperor of Valhalla stubbornly clung to his selfish desires.
Marquis Belfir gritted his teeth. He wanted to speak his mind. He wanted to scream at the Emperor to prioritize Valhalla's safety, but Valhalla was an empire where everything was carried out according to the Emperor's absolute will.
"...I will obey your command."
He bowed his head, swallowing his disgust. Suddenly, Roman Dmitry's parting words came to mind.
What on earth did he mean by telling me to keep in mind that we would meet?
It was then.
Slam!
"Your Majesty! We have a problem!"
A heavy sense of foreboding settled over the room. The imperial knight who burst into the conference room delivered news that shocked everyone to their core.
"We have just received an urgent report from the Marin Guard! Roman Dmitry has arrived!"
* * *
The Marin Guard doubted their own eyes.
The lone figure who had just arrived at the gates of Valhalla's capital was the very person the Imperial Court absolutely had to eliminate.
"I am Roman Dmitry of the Dmitry Kingdom."
He declared his identity without a hint of fear. The guards exchanged bewildered glances. They could not comprehend how Roman Dmitry, who was supposed to be wreaking havoc in the North, had suddenly appeared in Marin. Moreover, walking up to the capital's gates alone was practically suicide.
Chaos erupted atop the castle walls. Although they had prepared tight defenses against a potential attack, they ended up doing something utterly absurd—they opened the gates.
'Let Roman Dmitry inside.'
It was an order from above. No matter what Roman Dmitry's intentions were, the Imperial Court could not let this golden opportunity slip away.
Creeeeak. Thud.
The massive iron gates ground open. The Marin Guard and the Royal Knights instantly surrounded Roman Dmitry, keeping a wary eye on his every movement. Indeed, there was no one else with him. A hair-trigger tension filled the air as Roman stepped inside completely alone. Moments later, soldiers pouring in from the direction of the imperial palace completely blocked his path of retreat.
Thud.
The gates slammed shut once more. He was a rat in a trap.
Having assessed the situation, the Guard Captain pointed his sword and asked cautiously, "Roman Dmitry. For what reason have you come to Marin?"
Gulp.
Someone swallowed hard. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a blade.
Roman Dmitry's notorious reputation on the battlefield was legendary. If he harbored ill intent, they would undoubtedly suffer immense casualties to subdue him. Even so, they did not believe a single man could bring about the worst-case scenario. This was the capital of Valhalla. In the heart of the nation of warriors, it was realistically impossible for even Roman Dmitry to escape with his life.
That was exactly why they were so cautious. Knowing he was as cunning as he was powerful, they were certain he had an ulterior motive.
Roman Dmitry finally spoke.
"Valhalla's defenses are truly thorough. The walls of Marin are so high and sturdy that they are called an Iron Fortress. Furthermore, due to the magic-disrupting arrays, there is no way to enter using spatial magic except through the Warp Gates. Therefore, to enter Marin, one has only two choices. The first is to tear down the Iron Fortress and force one's way inside. And the second is..."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
This operation. This was precisely why Chris had opposed it. The plan was so incredibly reckless that Chris had warned it was too dangerous, even for Roman Dmitry.
"...To have Valhalla open the gates themselves."
Instantly, the atmosphere turned chillingly cold. Realizing the terrifying implication of his words, the Guard Captain shrieked, "Attack!"
It was then that Roman Dmitry took a step back. He drew something from his robes and tore it apart for all to see.
Riiiip!
"Blackout. Dark Cloud."
Blackout, a spell that temporarily neutralized magical power. Dark Cloud, an artifact that instantly shrouded the surroundings in absolute darkness.
Rumble!
The shouts of the soldiers were drowned out. Billowing clouds of dark energy surged outward, swallowing the charging Valhalla forces whole.
Roman Dmitry, too, agreed that this was a dangerous plan. However... By abandoning the rebels, he intended to inflict a blow so devastating that Valhalla would not be able to recover for a very long time.
"If you wish, I will tell you my purpose. What I want is..."
He vanished into the shadows. Roman Dmitry was nowhere to be seen in the Guard Captain's field of vision; only his chilling voice pierced through the blackness.
"...To bring you despair."
Whoosh!
A deep, suffocating darkness descended. Marin was dyed in pitch black.
From now on, it was time to unleash the Ghostly Shadow.