Chapter 83: The Unforeseen Disaster (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 83: The Unforeseen Disaster (4)
It was reckless.
Rather than devising a clever strategy to resolve the crisis, he intended to smash straight through the enemy lines just to secure enough space to install the iron fences.
It was absolute madness.
Even Steven, the one who had proposed the idea in the first place, felt compelled to stop him.
"It’s too dangerous! Breaking through the enemy to reach the castle gate is hard enough, but they are constantly pouring in from outside. If you get isolated, you won't survive. I spoke out of turn. Installing the iron fences is practically impossible."
Roman Dmitry.
He was a man Steven had never met before today.
But one thing was certain: upon hearing that the 5th Defense Line was in danger, Roman had arrived at the scene even before the regular reserve unit. It was obvious how hard he must have pushed himself to get here. In a situation where even their own commander, Baron Bruce, had abandoned the battlefield and fled, having an ally like Roman Dmitry was profoundly reassuring.
That was exactly why he didn’t want Roman to die.
It would be a bitter injustice if a coward like Baron Bruce survived while a man like Roman perished in his place.
"I understand your concern," Roman replied. "But I am not a fool who throws his life away on a plan he deems impossible."
Whoosh!
An enemy soldier launched a surprise attack from behind.
As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Roman casually slipped past the strike and thrust his sword up under the man’s chin.
The soldier’s body violently convulsed before going limp.
While Steven could only blink in shock, a group of men emerged from the flank.
"My Lord!"
"Give us your orders."
It was Chris and the soldiers. They were drenched in blood.
Though they hadn't suffered a single casualty while catching up to Roman, the crimson dripping from their blades proved they had already slaughtered a vast number of enemies. Their eyes gleamed like those of ravenous beasts. Seeing these demons of the battlefield waiting in perfect unison for Roman’s command, Steven instinctively felt a spark of hope for the reserve unit.
Roman spoke.
"From now on, we carve a path to the castle gate."
"Understood."
No one questioned him. They didn't ask how dangerous the operation was or what the ultimate goal of the plan might be. Without a single shred of doubt, the soldiers displayed an absolute, unflinching determination to carry out Roman's orders.
Blind trust.
It was truly awe-inspiring.
Baron Bruce, the man Steven served, had abandoned the battlefield and fled the moment the castle gate shattered. Yet Roman’s soldiers displayed an unwavering loyalty, willing to follow Roman Dmitry into the jaws of death. How on earth was such a relationship forged? It defied all of Steven’s common sense; he simply could not comprehend this invisible, unbreakable bond.
Roman stepped forward.
Seeing Steven still dazed, he left him with one final command.
"Focus on your role. The war isn’t over yet."
With those words, Roman charged into the enemy lines, instantly slaughtering anyone foolish enough to block his path.
Blood sprayed into the air.
A gory path was carved wide open.
Following Roman, his soldiers charged in right behind him without a moment’s hesitation.
"……Ah!" Steven finally snapped out of his stupor.
Now was not the time to stand around dazed. The operation had already begun. To ensure Roman’s decision was not in vain, he had to do his part.
"Second Unit, follow me! From now on, you will move the emergency iron fences with me!"
Steven bellowed at the top of his lungs.
From this moment on, it was his turn to risk his life and fulfill his duty.
*
Before departing for the Southern Front, Roman had fallen into deep thought.
'Is there any need for me to risk my life for a country I feel no patriotism for?'
The Southern Front.
According to intelligence, the Hector Kingdom was clearly sending signals of war.
Even the Valhalla Empire, a foreign nation, had read those signs and warned Roman. Yet the Cairo Kingdom remained completely oblivious to the peril they were in. They were a pathetically foolish bunch. To avoid repeating their tragic history of suffering from foreign invasions, they should have maintained absolute vigilance. Instead, the Central Government, fractured into four squabbling factions, was utterly incapable of making a proper judgment.
Frankly speaking, Roman could not be considered a true citizen of the Cairo Kingdom.
Having lived his previous life as Baek Joong-hyuk, there was no reason for him to harbor any grand patriotism for a country like Cairo.
'There are plenty of ways to avoid this war. If I hold hands with Marquis Benedict, I will be exempted from military duty. I could also align myself with the strong by following the Valhalla Empire. In the end, war is a game where only the weak are sacrificed. Now that my value has been recognized in the Cairo Kingdom, I have gained the privileges of the strong.'
This was a foreign world. No one knew what unknown dangers lurked on its battlefields.
However, Roman’s hesitation did not last long.
'I cannot bow my head or promise to take their side just to avoid the danger right in front of me.'
In his past life, there had been formidable older brothers above Baek Joong-hyuk.
Some of them were outstanding enough to encroach upon the eldest son’s domain, but because of a single compromise, they could never escape his shadow. Ordinary people might say it was just one small concession. However, that was the crucial factor that defined one’s will. Legs that had never knelt could stand firm until the very end, but once they bent even a single time, the body would forever remember the comfort of submission.
Benedict.
Valhalla.
Kronos.
And the Royal Family.
All four factions dividing Cairo desired Roman, but he had no intention of giving any of them a definitive answer.
By keeping them at a distance where they could not make demands that crossed the line, Roman intended to resolve the reality before him on his own terms. Since his ultimate goal was to reign supreme, he knew that bowing his head to anyone—even once—would act as a lethal poison.
Furthermore, he wanted Dmitry to remain as Dmitry.
'I am heading to the Southern Front.'
He had made his decision.
A difficult background? The reality of a weak nation?
He didn’t care about such trivial conditions. The Heavenly Demon had been born into far harsher circumstances, and in the end, he had brought everyone to their knees and risen to the absolute peak.
If anything, his blood boiled with excitement.
Life on the battlefield.
He had missed it.
Hadn’t the endless era of peace in his later years only left him with a deep, unquenchable thirst?
And so, Roman charged into the enemy lines.
*
It was a battle where defeat already loomed large.
The soldiers of Hector constantly poured through the completely breached castle gate, while the overwhelmed Cairo soldiers were busy retreating. The disparity in combat power was extreme. With a single Hector soldier easily handling two or three opponents at once, the area around the gate had quickly turned into a stronghold for the Hector Kingdom.
Everyone knew that the battle was already lost.
But unlike the routing soldiers who were trying to get as far away from the gate as possible, Roman left them behind and charged straight toward the enemy.
Slash!
The first five enemy soldiers who rushed him had their chests sliced open simultaneously.
Drenched in the blood spraying through the air, Roman plunged deep into the enemy-infested space. By any normal standard, it was an incredibly perilous situation. Isolated alone in the midst of the enemy, Hector’s soldiers attacked him from all sides, but Roman did not allow a single strike from his blind spots to land.
'Right.'
Whoosh!
A spear whipped past his side, cutting through the air.
Roman casually grabbed the shaft of the spear, yanked the wielder toward him, and cleanly severed the neck of the soldier who came flying forward. Without missing a beat, he immediately surged forward, striking down the enemies in his path.
Shatter!
It was an overwhelming sight. The enemy had clearly raised his shield to block, yet the Hector soldier’s upper and lower body split in opposite directions—just like his shield, which had been cleanly cleaved in two.
The counterattacks of the surrounding enemies were utterly useless. Even as he kept advancing, Roman deflected or blocked their strikes with ease, and whenever he unleashed an attack of his own, death inevitably followed.
When he killed ten, the Hector soldiers still rushed him, relying on their sheer numbers.
When he killed twenty, they realized their opponent was far stronger than they had anticipated.
But by the time he had slaughtered thirty, forty, and eventually over fifty men, their faces were painted with sheer terror.
"Argh!"
"S-Stop him! Someone stop him!"
Chaos erupted.
A single man.
Because of Roman’s rampage, Hector’s forces could no longer push forward. The soldiers who had bravely charged him were already cold corpses, and Roman, as if still unsatisfied, continued to slaughter the enemy without pause.
This was not merely the power of Aura. Roman had barely even manifested his Aura, yet he displayed a martial prowess that far surpassed that of an Aura Swordsman.
Baek Joong-hyuk.
He had mastered the art of killing long before he possessed any real power. He was a man who would crush an opponent’s skull with a mere stone, resorting to any means necessary if the situation demanded it. From the very bottom to the absolute peak, he had experienced every conceivable kind of hardship and battle.
There was no way mere foot soldiers could stop Baek Joong-hyuk, who had now even acquired absolute martial power.
It was a one-sided massacre.
Being isolated alone did not matter.
Just as a massive flock of sheep could not overpower a single wolf, Roman slaughtered the enemy as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And that was not all.
The soldiers who had arrived with Roman were completely different from ordinary troops. While one Hector soldier could handle two or three Cairo soldiers, Roman’s men displayed such lethal combat proficiency that each of them could easily handle five or six opponents on their own.
The tide of battle had turned.
There were only thirty of them. The reserve unit was a minuscule number compared to the entire army, yet their bloody exploits were gradually shifting the atmosphere of the entire battlefield.
And this very scene was being watched by the commander of Hector.
*
The commander of Hector.
Baron McCleary, the man in charge of the assault on the 5th Defense Line, had been absolutely certain of victory the moment the castle gate was destroyed.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Pathetic fools."
It was laughable. Hector had not even deployed its full strength.
They had only sent a fraction of their forces to the 5th Defense Line, yet the Cairo Kingdom had been so complacent that they couldn’t even withstand an attack of this scale. Their dazed response of failing to fire arrows as the enemy approached, coupled with defensive siege weapons that didn't even function properly... Despite calling themselves a nation of war, the Cairo Kingdom was absurdly pathetic.
'Contrary to our expectations, we might actually bring down the 5th Defense Line first.'
Their original plan had nothing to do with winning or losing. Simply launching the attack held meaning, but the sandcastle known as Cairo was crumbling all on its own.
In any case, they had to seize all five defense lines eventually. If they could achieve this kind of result just by testing the waters, Baron McCleary had absolutely no complaints.
"Charge! Completely demolish the 5th Defense Line!"
He made his decision. This was a golden opportunity. He was confident they could crush the defense line right then and there.
At first, his plan seemed to work. It looked as though the soldiers pushing into the castle were successfully occupying the interior. But at some point, a bizarre sight began to unfold.
"R-Run!"
"Fall back!"
"Aaargh!"
The Hector soldiers. They were pouring back out of the gate.
Seeing them retreat with pale, terrified faces, Baron McCleary looked at the battlefield in bewilderment. He still couldn't quite make out what was happening. Although his soldiers were retreating, from a distance, the Cairo forces opposing them didn't seem to be that numerous.
'What on earth is going on?' he wondered.
It was then.
His soldiers were sent flying in heaps. A space cleared, revealing a single figure fighting while completely surrounded by enemies.
"……!"
It was a truly overwhelming sight. A single Cairo swordsman was unilaterally slaughtering the Hector soldiers.
At that moment, Baron McCleary locked eyes with the man.
It was a gaze so chilling it took his breath away. Just as he thought locking eyes from such an incredible distance must have been an illusion, the man suddenly charged straight toward him.
Blood splattered. Heads flew off with every step the man took.
McCleary blinked. Even in that brief split second, the man rapidly closed the distance.
'Is he... trying to kill me?'
No. That was impossible. Logically, it made no sense.
"Kill him before he runs wild any further!"
"By your command!"
The knights of Hector stepped forward.
Even then, Baron McCleary still believed he was safe.