While the expedition was quietly setting up in Piris, a banquet was being held in the mansion of Duke Cornwall, who was the head of the nobles faction.
Anyone else would shake their heads at this. At a time when a battle over the throne of Soldun was going to break out at any moment, he was holding a banquet? No matter how superior his side was, the victor would not be decided until the end. Duke Cornwall was smart enough to know that much.
However, his guest had demanded one. The crusader who came from Lairon had said his name was Ruben. This paladin had gone on to demand luxurious treatment without regards for virtue. He demanded young noble beauties and the best wine from the warehouses. People naturally scattered in every direction to avoid the paladin.
Regardless of whether Ruben knew it, his excesses didn’t stop.
“All this abundance is due to Lairon’s blessing, and this fact shouldn’t be forgotten! Hahaha!”
Ruben had a baron’s daughters in both of his arms, and he crossed his legs casually with a smirk. Who would think that a paladin could be so rude? If it wasn’t for his shining sword and armor, he would’ve been a bandit in the mountains. The daughters, who had not known why they had been summoned, couldn’t budge when he touched their bodies. Meanwhile, the paladin’s loud and vulgar laughter echoed throughout Cornwall’s banquet hall.
However, one person was feeling rather uncomfortable.
“I’m glad you are liking the banquet, Crusader Ruben.”
Duke Cornwall smiled awkwardly at the paladin. He wielded the most influence after the king in Soldun Kingdom, yet he was being humiliated in public. Even the current king of Soldun, Elmore IV, couldn’t disparage Cornwall’s name in public. There were fewer than five people who dared to not bow stiffly to him. Regrettably, this paladin was one of those people.
“Oh, Duke! I didn’t know you would show such great hospitality to this Ruben!”
“… Thank you for saying that.” Duke Cornwall didn’t know where to look as he gritted his teeth and hid his clenched fists in his sleeves.
He was the one who would lose the most if he chased Ruben away. The duke repeated quietly that he had to be patient for just a little longer. He would act after obtaining the Soldun crown. In the meantime, he had to put up with it, at least until he took care of Prince Elsid.
Still, Duke Cornwall had some pride left, so he couldn’t help muttering with some dissatisfaction, “I don’t doubt Sir Ruben’s dignity, but is it okay to be drinking? You need to use that blade to cut down that Eastern savage.”
“Cough.” Ruben tossed his cup behind him in irritation and turned to glare at Duke Cornwall. “Do you think that I would be defeated by that barbarian?”
“That is impossible. Crusader Ruben, Lairon’s sword, will surely win. I just want the process to be smooth.”
“Hrmm… Then I will forgive you. Duke, you have no idea.”
What didn’t he know? Duke Cornwall felt uncomfortable and looked at Ruben. However, Ruben just picked up his mug and didn’t explain any further. Alas, the atmosphere was colder than it had been before.
The nobles’ daughters almost screamed as Ruben’s hands squeezed, and the pressure of a master pressed down on the minds and bodies of the people in the hall. Duke Cornwall’s eyes widened as he felt his breathing hitch.
This… crazy!
He had deluded himself with his authority. Duke Cornwall had never learned magic or swordsmanship in all sixty years of his life. This pressure was life threatening when it came crashing down on his elderly body. If it lasted for even thirty more seconds, he would have a heart attack and die before he even saw the crown.
However, another guest snorted coldly.
Paang!
The momentum of two masters clashed, causing the pressure to disappear. Ruben’s eyes narrowed. As a master, the only one who could offset his pressure was another master.
Everyone’s eyes turned gratefully to a corner of the banquet hall, where a knight in full plate mail was leaning against the wall. The knight’s face was covered with a thick cloth, and he hadn’t said a word from beginning to end. He had stopped Ruben, but he clearly had no intention of doing anything else.
“… What is this, imperial dog?”
The unidentified knight replied curtly, “Better than being a dog of the church. Did you grow up as a horny bastard?”
“Ha, ha, ha.”
Wuuuong…
The paladin and sword master’s auras clashed in the air, causing a gust in the banquet hall. Duke Cornwall couldn’t even think of mediating between them, while the two beauties on both sides of Ruben turned pale. 𝚘𝚟𝚕．ｔ
If two masters collided in such a narrow hall, they would die. Suddenly, the air of battle in Duke Cornwall’s hall started to dissipate.
“……”
“……”
Fortunately, or unfortunately, the two masters had retracted their aura at the same time. It would be different if they could overwhelm each other, but their skills were about even. They realized that if they sincerely fought, one of them would surely die.
“You’re lucky, imperial dog.”
Unlike the angry Ruben, the imperial knight was calm, and he turned away without answering. He completely ignored Ruben. Duke Cornwall felt a strange pleasure at seeing Ruben being treated like this, but on the other hand, this situation was very unpleasant. It was the duke who had created this whole situation, yet he could control neither the paladin nor the knight.
No, this humiliation won’t last long.
Elmore IV was on his deathbed. Duke Cornwall had the support of the Lairon Kingdom and the Andras Empire, so the prince who had accepted the Eastern family would just become a stepping stone. His ancestors had kneeled to the royal family, and now Duke Cornwall was one step away from his wish. He would restructure the royal family in the name of Cornwall.
“Things are about to start.”
Darkness filled Duke Cornwall’s eyes.
“It won’t be long until the crown enters my hands…” Duke Cornwall murmured under his breath.
***
Exactly four days afterward…
Coincidentally, it was exactly three years after Elmore IV collapsed from a serious illness. So, this was truly perfect. He hadn’t died of poison, or assassination, or a spell. The crowd gathered outside his palace, and the doctor shook his head with a deep sigh. A black flag was flown from the top of the palace in honor of the king’s death. Then everyone, from the nobles to the poor, began to panic.
The royal family and the noble faction… The small nobles who didn’t belong to either faction noticed that a spark was being lit between them. Then the two forces moved at the same time.
“His Majesty has died! My contact in the royal palace has confirmed that he has died from his illness!”
“Earl Halsun and twelve other nobles have reportedly returned to their estates!”
“Duke Cornwall had left the castle!”
The dozens of spies in each estate and city took action as soon as they heard. The forces belonging to the noble faction moved, while the prince’s side joined Baek Jongmyung. Everyone was moving all at once, and the previously neutral nobles were caught unawares. What should they respond to first?
In that part, the royal faction was one step ahead of the nobles. The royal faction, led by Marquis Piris, moved quickly according to the plan they’d devised at the strategy meeting a few days ago. Meltor’s commanders also moved like lightning, leaning on their decades of practical experience. However, one combat troop arrived at the border between the two forces the quickest.
***
[Vince Haidel’s unit, three hundred and thirty two troops. We have arrived at the border of Earl Halsun’s estate.]
[Bors Carter’s unit, three hundred and thirty two troops. We have arrived at the border of Viscount Kerun’s estate.]
Orta, with two hundred magic soldiers behind him, nodded as he received the reports of the two commanders through the communication sphere.
“Okay. Magic soldiers, charge your magic power,” Orta said as he gazed at the horizon with cool eyes.
Earl Halsun was in the west.
Marquis Reista was in the middle.
Viscount Kerun was in the east.
These three locations were going to be the fiercest battlegrounds where the royal and noble factions would clash. As such, it was natural that everyone would build up their defenses before venturing out to attack. This was an unwritten tradition that was the essence of Central Continent warfare, which focused on protecting their own territory instead of offensive prowess.
This strategy has long been considered antiquated in the North.
The truth of it was shown in the difference in the composition of troops. Unlike the Central Continent, where armies were made of conscripts, the North fielded elite specialist troops such as magicians and magic soldiers. Their explosive power couldn’t be blocked by high walls or thick gates. As such, warfare had evolved around the principle of attacking over defending.
It wasn’t that Soldun’s nobles were incompetent. They didn’t have the years of experience that the Andras Empire had with Meltor’s crazy mobility. They were far more accustomed to normal armies. They couldn’t imagine that infantry would move faster than cavalry, or that a hundred troops could take down a castle.
The nobles tried their best, but Meltor’s strike teams pierced through their incomplete defensive line like a knife through butter.
“… Everything else is done.” Orta looked at the magic soldiers and raised his hand. “Follow in circle formation. Prioritize killing knights and commanders.”
He hadn’t shouted, but every magic soldier had heard him. They pounded their chest once as they started revolving their Circles. It was awkward to call them magicians, since they only had between one and three Circles and a few secondary and attack spells in their repertoire.
However, the momentary burst of magic power caused the earth to tremble.
Kukukung…!
Dust, smoke, and fires rose from the forts. Their approach had been noticed, but at this point, it was already too late. Meltor’s elites weren’t weak enough to be defeated by soldiers who had been drafted without any pride.
“Go.” The magician in the white robe said shortly before he flew into the air.
Huuung.
His goal was Marquis Reista’s estate. The sight of a lone magician heading toward a fort seemed reckless, but the soldiers following him knew it wasn’t.
He had been Supreme Orta of the White Tower, before he became the Tower Master. His career had already been legendary even before the reign of Kurt III. Orta had killed one of the empire’s Seven Swords, and he was a secret agent and assassin who had never failed his missions. It wasn’t uncommon for him to break a siege by himself.
“Elimination Sphere.”
Magic power boiled over in the atmosphere as a few black spheres appeared around Orta’s body. The spheres were so ominous that anyone in the area could sense it, as they seemed to suck away at all light. There were some magic soldiers who looked confused at what the spheres would do. However, the veterans who had participated in the last war were different.
“T-This is…!”
“No doubt! It’s the Destruction Bead!”
Destruction Bead? While the rest of the soldiers were confused, Orta fired the black spheres at the estate. Was it explosive type magic? Or was it an attack spell that could penetrate steel?
Hundreds of eyes filled with anticipation as a total of eight spheres struck the estate’s defenses. Then there was silence.
“… Eh?”
“What? Is it over?”
“Did he make a mistake?”
“No, you idiots! This…!”
Then at that moment…
“Spread.” Orta looked at the spheres evenly spaced around the gate as he raised a hand… and clenched.
――――――――
The gate disappeared.
To be precise, any material within a certain radius of the spheres had been eliminated. The estate’s gates, which were made of high quality cast iron and steel; the walls, which were made of solid rock; and the flesh and blood soldiers drawing bowstrings back had all vanished without a trace. An entire section of Reista Estate had been carved away.
This was the power of the 7th Circle spell, Clear Space.
“A-Ahh… Ahhhhhh!”
“Uwaaaaack!”
“W-What is this?”
“D-Demon! This is clearly a demon’s work!”
It wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion after witnessing such a sight. The commander and soldiers jumped from the walls or killed their allies as they desperately tried to run away. Orta’s magic had struck fear deep into their hearts.
This was literally hell.
Orta looked down at the frantic soldiers of Marquis Reista and declared, “Attack.”