Chapter 60. The Rebel Counterattack
The Rebel Counterattack
"Charge!!"
With Lucian's battle cry, the main forces of the royal army surged toward the rebels.
At the forefront was, without a doubt, Lucian himself. With his crimson cloak billowing behind him as he cleaved through the heart of the enemy ranks, he resembled not a man but a calamity.
KWAANG—!
Every swing of his holy sword unleashed explosive crimson slashes, sending dozens of enemy soldiers flying through the air. The bloodlust boiling within him from his excess mana translated into boundless stamina and destructive power on the battlefield.
"Die, Eckhart!"
Rebel knights leveled their spears and charged, but none could even reach Lucian before being intercepted.
CLANG! CRUNCH!
His shield captain stood firm.
Wielding a massive shield and mace, he guarded Lucian's back like an impenetrable fortress. Deflecting blades and shattering helmets with his mace, he was a moving fortress in his own right.
"Lay not a finger on my lord."
A single crushing blow from the shield captain sent an enemy cavalryman tumbling to the ground, reduced to pulp alongside his horse. It was an unspectacular but indomitable display befitting the leader of the Steel Knights.
Beside him, another shadow danced across the battlefield.
Kara.
Unlike the regular knights, she wore only light leather armor, wielding nothing but a rapier as she weaved through the chaos.
Swish, swish, THUD!
"Guh—!"
Her strikes were precise—aimed at the gaps in armor, the vulnerable spots beneath helmets, the armpits—every thrust a lethal blow honed in the brutal arenas of the savage Kurkan Kingdom.
"Hoh..."
Rimeyer's eyes narrowed as she observed.
'I've never seen that woman before... Count Lucian certainly has an eye for talent.'
Despite her slender frame and single thin blade, Kara's swordsmanship was a perfect fusion of lethality and technique. Rimeyer couldn't help but admire it inwardly.
But she wasn't the only one left in awe.
Every soldier on the battlefield trembled and instinctively cleared a path—for the path Rimeyer walked was one of silent terror.
She dismounted her white steed and drew her sword.
A frigid white aura erupted from her blade.
SHIIING.
With each swing, rebel soldiers' heads silently tumbled to the ground. Blood didn't even have time to spray before their wounds froze over, leaving the battlefield eerily clean and quiet.
"There will be no mercy."
Without a flicker of emotion, she carved through the enemy lines.
No battle cries, no ragged breaths—just a cold, elegant dance of death, like a blizzard cutting through flesh.
Terror-stricken rebels dropped their weapons before that icy blade.
"A m-monster! The Frozen Executioner!"
"Run!"
Even the young noblemen on their own side gulped in fear.
"Wh-what the hell is she? Human?"
Despite her breathtaking beauty, her presence was more terrifying than the Grim Reaper itself, overwhelming the battlefield.
The rebels didn't last long.
Their numerical disadvantage was one thing, but facing an allied force led by two monstrous anomalies like Lucian and Rimeyer was beyond their capabilities.
Some rebel nobles were captured or fled, while the remaining soldiers surrendered.
"WOOOOOH! We won!"
"The rebellion is crushed!"
The allied soldiers raised their swords in triumph. Though there had been casualties, this was an overwhelming victory.
As the battle ended, atop a hill bathed in the light of the setting sun, two figures stood facing each other—Lucian, his armor drenched in blood, and Rimeyer, her white armor still immaculate.
"You fought well, Knight Commander."
Lucian sheathed his sword first as he spoke.
"And you, Count. Your reckless habit of charging ahead remains unchanged."
Though her tone was cold, Rimeyer pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him, as if silently instructing him to wipe the blood from his cheek.
"A commander must lead from the front to inspire morale."
"And if you die doing so, it'll be a dog's death. ...Are you alright? Your mana seems unstable."
At Rimeyer's sharp observation, Lucian stiffened.
The excitement of battle had stirred his excess mana into a frenzy again. His fingers trembled with the urge to take a woman into his arms.
"Don't worry. I'll handle it myself."
"Handle it... I pray you don't disgrace yourself again."
With a meaningful glance, Rimeyer turned away.
"Sigh... I should wash up first."
Lucian turned his horse, both to cool his burning body and to return to the capital where the king and his fiancée awaited news of their victory.
The allied forces, triumphant in crushing the rebellion, marched back to the royal capital in high spirits.
Though the cold winds of late autumn and early winter had begun to blow, the soldiers' fervor remained unshaken. The nobles laughed as they calculated their rewards for the war's success, while the common soldiers buzzed with excitement at the thought of returning home.
Yet, Lucian's expression at the front remained dark.
'This ended... too easily.'
The rebel forces had been smaller than expected. For a rebellion staked on the Second Prince's life, it had been sloppy. Neither the prince nor Marquis Valmore had been spotted on the battlefield—almost as if their main forces had been hidden elsewhere.
That uneasy premonition became reality when a messenger came galloping from beyond the horizon, kicking up dust.
"Count! Cough! Count!"
The messenger, clad in armor bearing the Eckhart crest—though now battered with blood and soot—tumbled from his horse. An arrow had grazed his back, leaving a clear mark.
"What happened?! Has something befallen the Eckhart fief?!"
Lucian leapt from his horse and caught the messenger, who spat out bloodied saliva as he screamed.
"It's a trap... a trap! The rebels heading for the capital were just bait! Their true main force... they went north!"
"WHAT?!"
"A massive army under the Second Prince's banner... has surrounded our territory! Their numbers... at least five times what we faced here!"
The surrounding nobles erupted into murmurs. Five times? That meant the forces they had fought were nothing more than a diversion.
"Damn it... Kaelus, you bastard!"
Lucian's fists trembled.
The Second Prince's plan was clear—to first crush the Eckhart family, the king's right hand and the northern iron wall, isolating the royal family.
Once the impregnable fortress of Eckhart Castle fell, he could sway the Kurkan Kingdom to his side, using the castle as a foothold to pressure the kingdom from both north and south. It was a chillingly effective strategy.
"We turn back now! To the north!"
Lucian roared the order.
But the nobles' reactions were icy.
"Count, calm yourself. We gathered under royal decree to defend the capital. Marching all the way to the northern border to protect your lands was never part of the agreement."
"Besides, winter is coming. A march through the northern winter is suicide. With the capital left vulnerable, other enemies could strike. We will remain here to defend the royal city."
They were afraid. Even the diversionary force had been no pushover—facing a main force five times larger was unthinkable. And if the Eckhart family fell, their rivals would be eliminated. Why risk their lives for nothing? Pure selfishness.
"Fine. Cowards, stay behind. I'll go alone if I must."
Lucian didn't have time to waste convincing them. He gathered only his personal guard, nobles loyal to the Eckhart family, and a few stubborn nobles who fought purely for honor before turning his horse north.
Then, a white steed blocked his path.
Rimeyer.
"Move aside, Knight Commander. Every second counts."
"Who said I was stopping you?"
She hastily scribbled something and handed it to a royal messenger before adjusting her white cloak.
"I've sent word to His Majesty. The crisis in the north is the kingdom's crisis. If Eckhart falls, the capital won't hold. His Majesty will approve—my knights and I will accompany you."
"Rimeyer..."
"Don't misunderstand. I'm not doing this for you. I'm preventing the kingdom's shield from breaking."
Though more than half the allied forces had abandoned them, Rimeyer's arrival was like gaining an army of thousands. Lucian's forces could now march with renewed hope.
But the retreat became a hellish march.
The weather turned bitterly cold, the early winter chill seeping through the gaps in their armor. Horses collapsed, their breath steaming, while soldiers lost feeling in their limbs to frostbite.
Yet Lucian did not rest. No—he couldn't.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of those he'd left behind in the castle.
Sophia, the priestess who had tearfully prayed for his safe return.
The maids who had begged him to come back unharmed.
'Hold on... Just hold on.'
The mana in Lucian's chest boiled with anxiety and rage, numbing him to the cold. They pushed forward, cutting rest short, enduring the freezing march.
After nearly two weeks of forced marching, Lucian arrived at the neighboring territory of Baron Miller, right beside the Eckhart fief.
But the sight that greeted them was horrific.
"Gods..."
The walls had crumbled. The village was reduced to blackened ashes. Soldiers' corpses littered the ground, and rebel banners stood planted in the ruins. The enemy had already swept through.
Lucian's eyes burned crimson.
"Kill them all!"
Leading the charge, he slaughtered the rebel rearguard occupying Miller's castle. He was no longer human—his crimson slashes bisected enemies as he shattered the gates single-handedly. Even Rimeyer clicked her tongue at the sheer ferocity.
After retaking the ramparts, Lucian dragged a captured rebel officer to the edge of the wall and interrogated him.
"Talk. What happened to Eckhart Castle?"
The officer trembled under Lucian's blood-red gaze.
"Sp-spare me! I was just following orders—"
"Answer the question! My castle! My people!"
Lucian's grip tightened, choking the man as he gasped. The officer weakly pointed north, toward the black smoke rising in the distance.
"It's... too late, Count."
"What?"
"Eckhart Castle... held out stubbornly, as expected of an impregnable fortress. But with the help of a certain mage... we broke through."
The officer let out a bloody grin.
"A week ago... the gates fell. By now... every man inside is dead, and the women... well, they're our soldiers' playthings. All those beautiful women of yours—"
THUD.
Lucian's heart plummeted.
Two weeks ago.
While he had been celebrating victory in the capital, his homeland had been fighting desperately. And though he had raced back with everything he had... he was already too late. His lands had been ravaged.
"AAAAAAAGH—!!!"
With a bestial roar, Lucian hurled the officer off the wall.
His scream echoed across the ashen ruins, carried by the cold winds of early winter.
His vision darkened, but he couldn't collapse. Until he confirmed their deaths, he had to find them—even if only their corpses. No, he would slaughter every last rebel and drown his sins in their blood.
"All forces... to Eckhart. No rest. We hunt them down... to the depths of hell."
Tears of blood streaming down his face, Lucian mounted his horse once more. Behind him, Rimeyer and the soldiers followed in grim silence.
The place they were heading to was no longer home.
It was a living hell—where those they loved were trapped.
