From Traitor to War Hero
From defector to war hero, I had captured Zikfried von Kreuz and the knights of the Kreuz family amid the sulfur fires. Together with the Valtenstein detachment, I took the pre-planned escape route to the rendezvous point.
The withdrawal wasn't smooth. The fire demons spreading relentlessly. The soot-laden smoke blanketing everything like storm clouds. And now the reinforcements from the Scorpion Palace rushing to the scene. No war unfolds without variables. As if to prove it, brutal obstacles crashed down on us.
"Rescue Young Master Zikfried!"
"Kailun von Valtenstein…! The filthy traitor is over there!"
"We must rescue Young Master Zikfried and the knights at all costs! If we fail… we'll all be executed by the Sword Duke in the Imperial Capital!"
The noble young heir to the Sword Duke—the empire's top warrior—had been captured by a traitor who'd betrayed the Holy Empire. His handsome face was grotesquely swollen, and the arms that wielded supreme talent were hacked off at the elbows. What humiliation was this?
Wrong. We'd been too late. They should have sent reinforcements sooner. The Scorpion Palace knights gritted their teeth and charged at Kailun, aiming to claim his head—and ideally the White Night Sword Albrus and Black Star Sword Morion too—to mitigate their failure.
"Valtenstein detachment! Break through them!"
Fail to break through, and we'd be isolated. Blocked by flames and smoke, or encircled by Holy Empire troops. Kailun and Rozalin took the vanguard, clashing with the Scorpion Palace knights. Soon, honed blades of mana collided in a chaotic frenzy of deadly swordplay.
"Filthy traitor!"
"You betrayed your own superior, Young Master Zikfried… I'll kill you myself!"
Insults and killing intent flew from all sides. But Kailun swung his sword hilts without hesitation. One swing felled the knight in front. Gripping the other hilt in reverse, he stabbed the one charging from behind.
Among countless sword styles, dual-wielding—renowned for its vicious difficulty—excelled at fluidly switching offense and defense against swarming foes. Having endured chronic supply shortages on the frontlines, Kailun had no choice but to specialize in it.
"Captain Valtenstein."
Shwick— A crisp iaijutsu bisected a Scorpion Palace knight. Rozalin von Lucien, the one-eyed knight. Her grip firm on her hilt, she faced the enemy with resolute fury.
"There are too many enemies surrounding us. If the southern continent mercenaries in the rear joined the front line, we'd win easily… but any delay, and the flames will isolate us."
"Damn. The Scorpion Palace arrived faster than expected."
The counter was simple and clear: pinpoint breakthrough. Force a path through the Holy Empire bastards. That was why Kailun and Rozalin led the charge.
"You…! Rozalin?!"
"A disciple of the Yellow Path 12 Palaces, reduced to a colonial mongrel!"
"The wench is tarnishing the honor of the noble palace knight, Countess Lucien!"
Promoted to countess. Appointed as a palace knight in the imperial court after endless petitions. She'd turned her own daughter into a heroic martyr, then ascended to nobility and secured her spot. Rozalin's hand trembled on her hilt as she learned of her beloved-yet-resented father's deeds by chance. But that was all. Her swings held no hesitation. Her rapier, cloaked in sword aura, pierced the Scorpion Palace knights like a flash of lightning, skewering vitals with ruthless precision. The struck knights spewed blood and crumpled to the dirt.
'Expert upper tier… same realm as Zikfried? Fitting for a character fated to guard the romance fantasy heroine—she boasts top-tier talent.'
Kailun slashed throats with his razor-sharp dual blades. Slash, thrust, repeat. Corpses piled around him as proof.
"Banish the darkness with waves of white, Albrus."
The pristine blade unleashed an overwhelming shockwave, blasting toward the Scorpion Palace knights. Those witnessing the incandescent torrent up close recoiled in panic.
Craaaack—!!
Too late. The white-hot mace struck. Gale winds howled, shockwaves pummeled. Dozens of knights were swept away. It was like a natural disaster, unilaterally crushing knights braced for death.
"I'll keep firing Albrus at you, you trash!"
Kailun bellowed triumphantly. He meant it—fully intending to spam the White Night Sword. Its pristine blade repeatedly unleashed white-hot storms, putting the Holy Empire knights on edge. They knew the mana-draining attack couldn't be spammed, but the wielder was the "mad traitor," so they feared his insanity.
"Captain Valtenstein!"
"Flames are closing in from the rear! Quick orders…!"
As he raised Albrus again, a sharp shout rang out—from the Valtenstein detachment guarding the rear. The shockwave from the sword had shaken the ground? The pursuing fire wave now loomed, ready to devour the detachment and southern mercenaries.
Could firing Albrus at the flames hold it back? Kailun turned, pondering.
"Good work, Lieutenant."
A clear voice echoed from midair. Simultaneously, a bone-chilling gale slammed down, crushing his body.
"Leonora—?!"
Evoking frozen tundra, the stunning beauty appeared with silver hair whipping in the fierce frost winds. The Ice Executioner commanded raging blizzards from her frostblade's tip.
────!!
White breath billowed. Lungs burned with freezing cold. Kailun blocked the gale with one raised hand, staring at the scene.
It was freezing. Everything engulfed in explosive flames—the vast plain, dense forests, even the charred corpses like coal. All turned to tundra.
True omnipotence of a god. Kailun gazed at Leonora in awe.
* * *
The Colonial Empire's great army seized all strongholds except Sanktus. The Sword Duke's heir and Kreuz knight order—main force of the Holy Empire—were annihilated in an instant, creating a fatal gap in their strength. Further resistance was pointless. Scorpion Palace and Infantry Palace had no choice but to withdraw.
They abandoned Sanktus. Already crippled on the battlefield, the Yellow Path 12 Palaces fell back, deploying new defensive lines to halt the Colonial Empire's chain advance southward.
"Kailun! Kailun! Kailun!"
"The new hero of the Eisenreich Colonial Empire!"
"Join our Frederica Captain's command! Well done, Valtenstein detachment!"
Cheers erupted the moment they merged with the Red Mercenary King's main force. Fitting acclaim for the war hero who'd avenged the Holy Empire's one-sided subjugation and injustice.
Flustered and embarrassed. Cheers he'd never received before. Despite countless victories for the Holy Empire, he'd never gotten such roars.
"Kailun and Valtenstein detachment! I grant you first rights to plunder Sanktus! The perfect reward for warriors who showed the Empire's valor!"
"……."
He'd heard of it. The Eisenreich Colonial Empire granted the bravest frontline unit first looting rights in conquered cities. The ultimate privilege—like VIP unlimited passes to Disneyland. Even the Roman Republic, conquering Mediterranean states with aggressive expansion, awarded plunder priority to the boldest legions.
The beautiful red-haired Mercenary King pointed at Sanktus with smug pride. With the Holy Empire troops withdrawn, the trade city was a free-for-all to ravage.
"And—"
Frederica wrapped an arm around his neck, pressing close. She whispered in his ear with playful mischief.
"I'll tell you my cup size specially. F-cup."
"Pardon?"
"Men love lewd info, right? For reference, Leonora's a firm D-cup."
"……."
An utterly unexpected reward. In some ways, more lavish than plunder rights.