Chapter 113
Chapter 113
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: Dawn Mobilization
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As the sun rose, the dim light of dawn filled the sky.
"Move it, move it!!"
At an hour when most of the kingdom's people were still deep in sleep, the Lichtenauer Martial Clan buzzed with more urgency than ever before.
Clank, clank!
They donned their armor and checked their weapons.
Thud, thud!
They packed rations and double-checked the stacks of hay for the horses.
It was a frenzy reminiscent of a war zone.
No, the truth was, the Lichtenauer Martial Clan was preparing for war.
Even the veteran mid-level strike teams, who wouldn't bat an eye at ordinary missions, wore tense expressions on their faces.
And now, even the elite 'regiments'—units that rarely ever ventured beyond the clan's walls—were mobilizing in force.
It was unavoidable.
Since Paon Lichtenauer had become the head of the clan, there had been few operations on this scale.
-Repel the clash between the Turbid Flow of the Great Calamity and Golden Heaven by force.
Though it was phrased as "repel," this was essentially no different from all-out war.
If those two factions had been the type to listen to reason, the Lichtenauer Martial Clan wouldn't have spent all those years focusing solely on the Great Calamity.
If words could persuade them, that would be ideal—but if things went even slightly awry, it could erupt into full-scale war.
The tension had every warrior in the Lichtenauer Martial Clan on edge.
"Uwaaaah... Boss, th-this... isn't this getting way too big?!"
Watching the chaos unfold, the members of the Latent Dragon Squad kept swallowing dryly without realizing it.
How did things spiral this far?
The Latent Dragon Squad had merely been tasked with uncovering the cause of the Amatres River's pollution and resolving the misunderstanding between Western Heaven and the Turbid Flow.
But the scale had snowballed uncontrollably, and now they found themselves on the brink of a war entangling nearly two-thirds of the Great Calamity's forces.
And with the Lichtenauer Martial Clan's full might thrown into the mix, no less.
Come to think of it... our boss isn't just bold—he's something else entirely.
As if sharing the same thought, all their gazes converged on one spot.
There stood Ian, arms crossed, watching the clan's warriors with a serene expression.
Ian looked utterly calm—peaceful, even to the point where one might doubt if he truly grasped the gravity of the situation.
Dragging in the elite regiments—not to mention the Patriarch himself—and yet he's standing there all nonchalant... I just can't figure out how massive this guy's guts must be.
The squad members marveled at Ian's composure, but their assessment stemmed from ignorance of his past.
Ian had once been Lucas, the man at the epicenter of the great war that shook the entire continent of Agera.
For something as trivial(?) as a skirmish involving just a portion of the southern continent to shake his unyielding heart? The name Hegemon wouldn't stand for it.
Step, step.
Just then, someone approached Ian as he observed the strike teams.
"Huaaah, what the hell is all this racket at the crack of dawn?"
Still rubbing sleep from her eyes and stretching lazily, the woman plopped down beside Ian.
Even in the murky dawn before the sun had fully risen, her beauty seemed to illuminate the surroundings.
She was one of the clan's rising stars and the prized gem of the Clonen Shadow House.
The captain of the Heavenly Flower Squad, Sophia Clonen.
"I hear all this commotion is because of the truth you uncovered on your mission, Ian. Honestly... you've turned into quite the firebrand since I last saw you."
She voiced the very thoughts the Latent Dragon Squad had only dared to think inwardly.
"Captain Sophia, it's been a while."
"It's been a while? Is that all you have to say?"
Sophia glared at Ian's nonchalant reply, her eyes narrowing like an axe blade.
"I messaged you so many times just to grab a meal! What kept you so damn busy? Training, training, and more training! I'm not exactly chopped liver—I'm one of the recognized beauties in the clan!"
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Sorry about that. Things have been hectic."
"Who isn't busy!!"
Sophia let out a frustrated shout and sighed heavily.
"You ghost me like that, and now you've stirred up a massive incident dragging the entire clan into it. God... Ian, you're a real enigma sometimes."
"Ha. Ha. My apologies. Once this mission wraps up smoothly, let's definitely have that meal."
Ian tossed out a perfunctory apology without a hint of sincerity, his eyes never leaving the strike teams.
"...Jeez, not even a proper bow."
It wasn't bragging, but Sophia Clonen was one of the top beauties in the Lichtenauer Martial Clan.
On top of that, she was hailed as a rising star and the eldest daughter of the Clonen Shadow House, one of the three great vassal families.
For her to receive such indifferent treatment...
Sophia, who had never been brushed off by a man like this in her life, was equal parts exasperated and intrigued.
What the hell is over there that's got him so hooked?
Sidling a bit closer to Ian, she prodded casually.
"So, what’s got the attention of our esteemed Captain Ian? Spill if it's something good—I wanna know too."
Instead of words, Ian jerked his chin to indicate what held his gaze.
Following his gesture, Sophia's expression turned a touch uneasy.
"Ah... the regiments, huh. Yeah... those guys. No wonder you're eyeing them. You always go for the tough nuts."
The regiments.
They were the designation for the clan's upper echelon strike teams.
Every regiment captain was a master-level powerhouse comparable to Golden Heaven's three orcs, the Turbid Flow's Four Dragons and Four Fiends, or the Great Veil's Five Fingers.
They were the true might of the Lichtenauer Martial Clan.
Even the Crimson Dragon Regiment—Paon's personal guard—was one such regiment, making them symbols of power and authority within the clan.
The captains weren't just strong; they attended every meeting presided over by Paon Lichtenauer, voicing their opinions freely.
Even Paon didn't dismiss their input lightly, underscoring their influence.
In short...
Anyone aspiring to succeed Paon as the next Patriarch had to win over these people—their recognition and loyalty.
"Well, after seeing your skills in the birch forest, it'd be weirder if you didn't eye the successor spot. Of course you'd check them out..."
Sophia shook her head with a weary look.
"But it won't be easy. Those guys have massive egos about their strength... They don't bow to just anyone."
Sophia spoke the truth.
Among the rising stars, only the eldest young lord, Alex Lichtenauer, had earned a regiment captaincy—and even that was barely, thanks to his status as the heir.
That alone spoke volumes about their arrogance.
Of course, the regiments each backed their favored rising stars as the next Patriarch... but their support differed vastly from that of other strike teams.
Unlike the blind loyalty of lesser teams, theirs was more like patronage.
Thus, the rising stars found the regiments uncomfortable allies.
And rightly so.
No king in history ever wanted a subordinate lording over them.
"...Yeah, figured as much."
Ian replied calmly to Sophia's warning.
Contrary to her assumption, he had no intention of courting their favor just yet.
Karakthos's resurrection was imminent.
In the battle against that monster, countless among those stiff-necked regiment captains would fall.
Wasting energy wooing people who might not survive the next few years? Pointless.
Ian was simply taking their measure.
Gauging the gap between himself and the 'captains' hailed as the clan's true power.
...It's not far off.
The chasm between Master and peak Expert was like heaven and earth.
Countless warriors across Agera perished without crossing it.
It was a realm reserved for the truly 'chosen.'
Yet Ian felt he was close.
Just one year.
In that short span, he'd shattered five chains of his Solar Meridian Blockage and ascended to peak Expert.
Having experienced the realm before helped, of course—but the synergy between his Solar Meridian Blockage and Blood Demon Iron Chain Art exceeded even his expectations.
At this rate... by the time another year passed, he'd reclaim seventy percent of his power from his Lucas days.
Even assuming Karakthos awoke at the earliest—three years from now, as Paon had warned—Ian would have long surpassed those puffed-up captains.
Then, if I shine in the war against Karakthos... no one will oppose me as the next Patriarch.
A man in his twenties outstripping the captains, backed by a robust father and warrior like Paon?
Who could stand in his way?
Yes.
Ian's revenge would come swiftly.
Thus, this affair wasn't war to him.
Merely preparation—securing one more tool to deal with Karakthos more efficiently in the future.
Wait for it.
I'll end that fight soon. By crushing it if I must.
Clank, clank...!!
"Mmph, mmph...!!"
In the Lichtenauer Martial Clan's underground chamber.
Byona, taken prisoner by Ian, thrashed desperately to escape.
But these damned chains—what the hell were they made of? They wouldn't break.
Damn it! Lady Aelion must be worried sick...!
"Heh heh heh! Save your strength and stay put. That thing might look flimsy, but... this old codger poured his heart into making it. It's not something you can snap with a little struggling."
"!"
A senile old mage had appeared like a ghost at the door of her cell.
The clan's chief mage, Nedyr.
"Heh heh heh, I hope the accommodations aren't too uncomfortable. Then again... dark elves thrive in dank undergrounds. Probably feels just like home."
His voice dripped with mockery, far from his usual mild demeanor.
"...What do you plan to do with me?"
Byona's face hardened as she asked. Nedyr toyed with his spectacles and replied evasively.
"What else? The obvious. I'll torment you until you spill everything you know."
...Clank!
As Nedyr opened the iron door and entered, Byona tensed involuntarily.
Dark elves were classified as monsters, elves as heteroraces... but they shared one trait.
A startlingly exquisite beauty.
She could easily imagine the vile tortures perverted humans might inflict.
Reading her thoughts, Nedyr scowled in disgust as he stepped inside.
"...That was an exceedingly rude assumption. Do you think the Lichtenauer Martial Clan—or this chief mage Nedyr—would stoop to such base depravity?"
"...You won't?"
"Hmph! Pretty face, filthy mind."
Nedyr gruffly pulled a crystal orb from his robes.
"I told you plainly. I'll 'torment' you until you cough up every last secret."
Thud!
Sitting across from Byona, Nedyr slowly placed his free hand atop her head.
"Just to be thorough, I'll ask: Care to confess now of your own accord?"
"...I know nothing. Kill me already."
"Heh heh! You've got the wrong idea."
Nedyr burst into hearty laughter at her growl.
"For someone whose actions threaten the Lichtenauer Martial Clan and the Aslan Kingdom... death is far too lenient. Do I seem that soft?"
Wooooong!
Nedyr's expression grew stern as his hand began to glow.
"No need to talk. It'll hurt you a bit, sure... but that's not the point."
Crackle, crackle!
"Do try to endure."
"...Guh, ack...?!"
The moment Nedyr finished, pale smoke rose from Byona's head, drawn toward the crystal orb.
"Aaaaaaaaah!!!"
Byona screamed in agony as her memories were forcibly ripped out.
Simultaneously, visions of her memories began manifesting in Nedyr's orb.
Secret Extractor.
Nedyr's unique spell, capable of dragging any memory from the mind by force.
"Now, let's see what you've got. The real reason your Great Veil... sowed discord between Golden Heaven and the Turbid Flow."
Before Nedyr's eyes, the true intentions of the Great Veil that Byona knew began to surface, one by one.