Chapter 383: The Second Continental War (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 383: The Second Continental War (6)
The mages struck first.
Standing behind Dmitry's rapidly advancing swordsmen, they channeled their mana and activated Memorize.
"Fire Cannon."
"Explosion."
Whoosh!
Whoooooosh!
Flames erupted.
The swirling fire swept over Ares in an instant, but as if anticipating the strike, he quickly leaped out of range. Dmitry's training included methods for dealing with mages. Catching the flow of mana, Ares chose to charge forward instead, slipping into a pocket of space where the fire's impact was significantly weaker.
He was fast.
But just as Ares prepared to eliminate the mages, a mysterious figure burst through the flames.
Whoosh!
"...?!"
A figure engulfed in fire. It defied common sense.
The fiercely blazing inferno should have incinerated a human body, yet Rodwell Dmitry swung his sword at Ares while completely cloaked in flames. The fire whipped around him. Centered on Rodwell, the swirling flames crashed down like a lightning strike.
'Second Form, Fire Wind.'
Boom!
Rumble!
It was a split-second difference. The moment Ares blocked the strike, Rodwell unleashed a relentless barrage of attacks.
Clang!
Cl-cl-cl-clang!
A fierce clash ensued.
Having broken through the wall of the 6-Star realm, Ares was indisputably considered Dmitry's greatest swordsman after Roman Dmitry. With Rodwell's current skill level, he stood absolutely no chance of winning in a fair duel. However, because of the flames swirling around them, Ares could not fully focus on his opponent's blade.
Whenever he spotted an opening, the flames would surge.
Rodwell would retreat into the fire, only to leap out from a completely different direction and unleash the Flame Sword Technique.
'Third Form, Blazing Fire.'
Boom!
Whoosh! Whooooosh!
The battle was unfolding in an unexpected direction.
The Phoenix Mages and Rodwell actively utilized each other's presence, seemingly pushing Ares into a corner. This was their chance. Once Rodwell swept through with his flames, Dmitry's other swordsmen stepped forward, determined not to give Ares a single moment to catch his breath.
The transition between offense and defense was seamless. A flawless combination.
Logan blocked the attacks aimed at Rodwell, while Fred leaped from above, bringing his sword down toward Ares's head.
Once again, Ares's reaction was swift. But the moment he blocked Fred's strike, Logan shifted to the offensive. When Ares tried to counter Logan, Fred stepped in to block the counterattack.
And then—
"Explosion."
Boom!
Whooooosh!
Without fail, magic detonated right on cue.
For Ares, it was a suffocatingly tense experience.
No matter how powerful a 6-Star swordsman was, he could not tank high-level fire magic with his bare body. Yet, the moment he tried to escape the fiery zone, Rodwell would burst through the flames again. He couldn't let his guard down for even a fraction of a second. Blocking the searing heat seeping into his airways, Ares slashed out to cleave his opponent in two.
Flash!
Rumble!
"Ugh."
Rodwell was pushed far back.
In that instant, Ares unleashed his 6-Star Aura.
It was only thanks to the power of the fire and Logan's defensive support that Rodwell had survived; a single moment of carelessness would have cost him his head. Meanwhile, Fred and the other Dmitry swordsmen were already pressing Ares again. Dmitry's swordsmen had undeniably grown stronger. They had built a foundation capable of standing against a powerhouse like Ares even without Roman Dmitry. But Rodwell could not afford to view the situation with pure optimism.
...He is strong.
Ares.
The continent's greatest genius.
His reputation was not for show.
Even while being pushed back, his counterattacks remained razor-sharp, meeting head-on assaults that ordinary swordsmen couldn't survive for even thirty seconds. If they hadn't anticipated his betrayal, the casualties would have been catastrophic. Watching Ares run rampant in the heart of Dmitry, Rodwell could not feel certain of victory in the war against the Kronos Empire.
Perhaps... they might actually lose.
But whatever the outcome of the war, he refused to let Roman Dmitry's absence be marked by defeat.
Dash.
Whoosh! Whooooosh!
Rodwell kicked off the ground. The real war was starting now.
* * *
Ares was genuinely impressed by the turn of events.
With Roman Dmitry, Chris, and Kevin—the core figures of Dmitry—all absent, he had never expected the remaining forces to hold him back, let alone with Rodwell at the center. Roman's teachings truly defied common sense. Just a year or two ago, these people wouldn't have even dared to look him in the eye. Yet, the only reason such a ragtag bunch could stand against him now was because of Roman Dmitry's guidance.
Boom!
He struck down at Logan. Crushing Logan's presence in an instant, Ares immediately aimed to slice Fred's throat.
At that moment—
Whooooosh!
Flames erupted.
With Rodwell cutting in at the perfect moment, Ares was forced to play defense once again. Rodwell's individual strength wasn't that formidable. However, the combination of the Phoenix Mages' spells and the Flame Sword Technique, accompanied by raging fire, was something even Ares could not afford to ignore.
His skin burned red. Just by trading blows, Ares was slowly being worn down.
At this rate, I'll be in danger.
Dmitry was strong.
His plan to bring this place down on his own had been arrogant. The moment his betrayal was exposed, his role had become severely limited. He now truly acknowledged it. Even without Roman, Dmitry could not be dismissed as a weak nation. They had carved out their own domain, and they were powerful enough on their own.
Suddenly, a pang of regret washed over him.
To be honest, Ares had made far greater strides under Roman Dmitry's tutelage than under Alexander's. By structuring his swordsmanship, he had broken through the 6-Star barrier in one fell swoop. For a fleeting moment back then, he had wondered if it might be right to betray Alexander and follow Roman instead.
At the pinnacle of swordsmanship stood Roman Dmitry.
Living as the continent's greatest genius, Ares had experienced a crisis of identity for the first time, but he still could not betray Alexander. From the very moment he accepted Alexander's power, his fate had been sealed. He was a being who had no choice of his own; he existed solely to live for Alexander.
Their destinies had crossed paths.
Through Ares, Roman Dmitry had seen the Sword Demon.
The two had felt a powerful pull toward one another, but life did not always flow in an ideal direction.
Clang!
"Ugh."
He deflected Logan.
Ares retreated a few steps, then sneered at the Dmitry swordsmen closing in.
"I acknowledge you all. It is impossible to bring Dmitry down with my strength alone."
It was time to execute his original plan.
If Knight Commander Jonathan hadn't discovered his identity, he would have carried it out by surprise.
"My life's purpose is not to devote myself to Dmitry. I, not Roman Dmitry, will inherit Alexander's legacy and become the greatest swordsman on the Salamander Continent. Therefore, I will show you all clearly: the power of Roman Dmitry alone can never win this war."
He channeled his aura.
And then—
Slash!
Rumble!
In a single strike, he severed the chains supporting the castle gate.
* * *
Thud.
Rumble!
The castle gate crashed open.
As the heavy doors slammed down over the moat, a dire crisis gripped Dmitry.
"Damn it!"
"Repair the gate!"
To prepare for any contingency, Dmitry had protected the chains supporting the gate with magic, linking multiple chains together instead of relying on just one. For outsiders ignorant of Dmitry's setup, targeting the chains would have been impossible. However, because Ares was an insider—and a powerhouse capable of shattering magic in an instant—he had succeeded in cutting them.
It was a devastating variable. Dmitry's towering walls lost their meaning now that the gate was flung wide open.
"Attack!"
"Bring down Dmitry!"
The imperial army surged forward.
If the enemy managed to breach the interior, there would be no way to stop the tidal wave of imperial soldiers. They would be forced into a brutal melee. For the numerically disadvantaged Dmitry, losing the advantage of their walls so early in the battle was unacceptable.
Just then, as the imperial soldiers charged with bloodshot eyes, flames erupted from atop the walls.
Boom!
Whooooosh!
"Execute Ares and repair the gate immediately!"
It was Rodwell Dmitry.
The flames originating from him swept through the imperial army in an instant. Rodwell blocked the gateway, cutting down the enemies rushing in behind. Looking up, an overwhelming sight met his eyes. The sheer number of enemies swarming everywhere made his throat run dry, but he could not take a single step back.
Dmitry cannot fall like this.
Once, Rodwell had resented his brother.
Because Roman had dumped all the burdens of the eldest son onto him, Rodwell had been forced to grow up meeting the expectations of adults from a young age. Then, he had reunited with his brother on the battlefield. Watching Roman exude such an overwhelming presence, a strange sense of relief, rather than jealousy, had washed over him.
Now, I can finally lay down my burden.
I can live a little more comfortably, hiding in the shadow of my only brother who never backs down, even against an empire.
His wandering had been brief.
Rodwell, who had lost his way, had found his place again. To him, the one who had chosen the path of a swordsman, Roman had entrusted his absence. He was to protect Dmitry while his brother was away. As the second son of the Dmitry family and Roman's younger brother, he had been asked to play his part.
Being trusted by his own flesh and blood didn't feel bad at all.
The fact that he wasn't carrying Dmitry's burden entirely on his own, but sharing it with his brother, actually made him happy.
Therefore, they could not be defeated here.
Roman had trusted him and left this task to him; he refused to weigh his brother's shoulders down with the news of defeat.
Splat!
Blood splattered.
He cut down the surging enemies.
Aura flared from all directions, leaving him without a single moment to breathe, but Rodwell faced the enemies head-on, still cloaked in flames. He surrendered his body to instinct. When he tilted his head back, a sword swept past; when he twisted his body, a spear pierced the wind.
A sigh of relief was a luxury. He immediately lunged forward to decapitate an opponent, then sliced off the head of another enemy filling the gap, becoming completely drenched in blood.
One of his eyes throbbed.
In this war, even if he had to die, Rodwell would never allow defeat.
"Fight to the end! If we hold out until the very end, victory will surely be ours!"
He screamed with raw desperation.
He shouted, and shouted again.
The fifteen days Roman Dmitry had spoken of... The time Dmitry had to endure was still far too long.
* * *
In a space shrouded in darkness, Alexander sat.
Amused, he gazed at the various screens floating before him, each displaying a different scene.
"Hehehe. Pathetic fools. They are struggling so desperately to survive."
The first screen showed Umberto.
Despite Calderon Drake's valiant struggle, the frontline defense post had ultimately collapsed, and the nation faced an existential crisis due to the relentless advance of the Kronos Empire. The reinforcements they had pinned their hopes on were not enough to stop the imperial army. If the Southern Three Kingdoms had been that strong in the first place, the original Kingdom Alliance would have found a way to deter the Kronos Empire long before Roman Dmitry ever appeared.
The second screen showed the Lawless Zone.
Karman had crushed the subjugation force and was now eyeing the territory of the Frank Kingdom beyond the Lawless Zone. Because of this, the Southern Three Kingdoms were thrown into a state of emergency. With the Kronos Empire threatening from above, and the rioters of the Lawless Zone and the Valhalla Empire closing in from both sides, they had no idea how to respond.
It was a situation the Southern Three Kingdoms could not endure on their own. They desperately needed help from other nations, but the problem was that those nations weren't in a position to help anyone else either.
The third and fourth screens showed Cairo and Hector.
Cairo was in chaos from Kronos's assault, and Hector was in an uproar over Valhalla's march.
He was thrilled. It was highly entertaining.
As the world plunged into chaos, Alexander chuckled as he looked at the final screen.
The last one was Dmitry.
With the gate breached due to Ares's betrayal, the nation—devoid of Roman Dmitry—faced a crisis like a flickering candle in the wind. Of course, they were holding out better than expected. He had assumed they wouldn't discover Ares's betrayal, but because of their swift response, it didn't seem like Dmitry would fall in a single day.
However, it was a meaningless struggle.
People usually fell into a certain delusion: that while the Kronos Empire dreamed of continental conquest, it lacked the power to realize its ambition due to the presence of its rival, the Valhalla Empire. That was nothing but the vain hope of those ignorant of the truth.
Stern Valhalla's true identity was Kronos's dog.
From the very beginning, Valhalla had been in Kronos's grasp. If Kronos had truly wanted to conquer the continent, Valhalla would never have been an obstacle.
They had simply been biding their time.
The goal Alexander desired was not a simple continental conquest, but a far grander dream that encompassed it.
He couldn't say that now was the perfect time.
Because of Roman Dmitry, he had been forced to move up his timeline, but Alexander was confident that this war would serve as the foundation for achieving his grand dream. Since the "conditions" were falling into place at just the right moment, the Kronos Empire did not wait any longer and unleashed its long-suppressed ambition all at once.
"Roman Dmitry. Thanks to you, I've had quite a bit of fun, but this is the last time you will run wild."
With this plan, he would completely sever Roman Dmitry's hands and feet.
After wiping out his forces, including Dmitry, Alexander intended to hunt Roman down.
Of course, he felt a slight tinge of regret. If only there had been more time.
Through Ares, he could have fully grasped what kind of entity Roman Dmitry had been in his past life, and how his true martial arts manifested. Alexander had a deep thirst for martial arts. If he had total control over everything, he might have considered keeping Roman alive until he had completely mastered them.
"Tsk, tsk. If you had only known your place, you could have enjoyed your power a little longer."
He clicked his tongue. The end was in sight.
Starting with this war, he would put into motion the grand plan he had prepared over his eternal life.
Just then—
Shhh—
Space distorted.
From beyond the darkness, a shadow appeared and bowed its head.
"Lord Alexander. Roman Dmitry passed through Eltar just moments ago."
In an instant, Alexander's expression froze.
Eltar was a city of Valhalla.
It was an ordinary report, but the problem lay in the fact that only a single day had passed, and in Eltar's location.
"That crazy bastard. Is he really going to struggle until the very end?"
Eltar.
It was a place hundreds of kilometers away from the Southern Jungle—a location that, by Alexander's estimates, should have taken at least three days to reach.