Chapter 207
Two days remained until the 1st Legion’s renewed assault.
During that time, Glenn planned his tactics and strategies according to the enemy’s scale and timing and informed Jeren Polkas of them.
“Are you… really sure this is alright?”
Lord Jeren’s eyes showed unease at the suggestion, but Glenn just gave a faint smile.
“That is the will of the Saint.”
Hearing that, the officers, including Lord Jeren, no longer questioned Glenn and immediately began preparing for the upcoming battle according to his orders.
For two tense days, the fortified city of Raygle endured. Of course, they had been busy before, but under Glenn’s new plan, the troops inside the city had spent these two days busier than ever.
Whoooosh—
Winter winds swept across the walls.
Jeren Polkas approached Ridenhall, who hid his skeletal frame under a pure white robe.
“All preparations the Saint mentioned have been completed.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. All civilians except those volunteering for the defense have been evacuated, and the troops have been deployed exactly where the Saint instructed.”
“Good work.”
“Father.”
Jeren quietly closed his eyes as he looked at the back of the calm Ridenhall.
“This old man has served as a retainer to the Raygle Marquis family for fifty years, ever since he was twenty.”
“…That long?”
“Yes. I’ve served many Raygles and observed other retainers serving alongside me. Of course, I’ve witnessed the final moments of some of them as well.”
Ahead of the battle, Ridenhall didn’t know what the old retainer intended to say, but he simply listened quietly.
“Sir Bilbain was devout, moving through the most dangerous parts of the battlefield to evacuate the wounded, but ultimately he died on the field.
“Sir Walles Raygle, though young, once set a holy war ablaze and faced interrogation by the Inquisition, yet he continued to fight brilliantly until his retirement due to old age. And Sir Lecanne…”
Jeren Polkas mentioned several Raygles and retainers, and only then did Ridenhall understand his intent.
“To those of us blessed by the God Minise, faith is more important than anything else. But…”
Jeren slowly opened his eyes and looked down at the man standing at the city gate. His blurred eyes reflected decades of deep regret.
“This old man has seen over decades that faith alone does not always determine the outcome of war.”
That was why Ridenhall’s figure, preparing to face the approaching demons alone at the gate, appeared pitiful.
—He’s planning to face them all alone?!
-I never said that. I just suggested it might be better to fight the enemy commander up front.
Indeed, if Glenn and Lowen fought near the city gate, fewer demons would press through the gate.
-But then the Saint could be attacked by multiple enemy commanders at once! We should go together, as I suggested before!
However, Glenn Warsworth only responded with a smile.
“…This old man can only hope that everything the Saint does now is not mere recklessness.”
“Brother Jeren.”
Ridenhall turned. His face remained hidden under the robe, but his voice sounded gentler than anyone else’s.
“Just because one is devout does not mean everything is possible. However…”
Fwoooosh—
Pure white sacred energy blossomed around Ridenhall.
Clang, clang—
With the clash of iron, four paladins in white heavy armor stepped forward behind Glenn.
“He is different.”
“….”
Ignoring the stunned Jeren, Ridenhall turned toward the horizon.
“I understand your unease, Brother Jeren. Experience gained over a long life does not lie. Yet despite your worry, you followed his orders faithfully.”
Ridenhall stretched his hand into the air, and ancient divine script formed in sacred energy along his white glove.
“Therefore, today, Brother Jeren, you will witness your faith rewarded.”
Bwoooom—
A trumpet sounded in the distance.
From beyond the horizon, those waiting surged forward.
But Jeren only watched Ridenhall’s back, calmly performing miracles before them.
The advance trumpet of the Demon King Army’s 1st Legion echoed through the winter trees.
Crunch—
Victor Karden stepped over fallen branches, his hood covering his head. In his hands was not a sword, but a bow used by demon guerilla units.
“It’s about to begin.”
The Karden Sword Unit was on standby to defend the garrison. Victor took the opportunity to move out, following the main force marching through the forest toward Raygle.
His objective: a sniper shot.
In today’s battle, Lowen had to be defeated by the human, Glenn.
Victor was prepared to take on the role of the betrayer if necessary, making the battlefield favor Raygle.
Of course, he would not aim at commanders or Lowen directly. Even for his beliefs, he could not kill his own kind.
Yet the one arrow he would fire today could pierce what mattered most in the war.
Rustle—
Victor pushed aside the winter grass and confirmed his target.
Whoooosh—Gweeeeh—!
A relentless wave of the undead advanced. Behind them, Lowen led the 1st Legion’s main force. At the center was Victor’s target: the Legion Stone.
The Legion Stone, created by the Demon King Army’s 2nd Legion, was a magical device capable of raising the dead as undead soldiers.
If I can just destroy that…
Only the undead absorbing enemy arrows and holy fire would vanish in an instant. This would greatly reduce the 1st Legion’s numbers and naturally tilt the battle in favor of the humans.
Of course, the most important battle was still Lowen versus Glenn, but Victor at least wanted to destroy the inhumane magical device to set things right.
Click—
He nocked an arrow. Though usually a swordsman, he could handle any weapon as an 8-star demon. He had mastered even magic suppression beyond 4-star levels. Lowen was still far behind the Legion Stone’s position.
So failure is impossible!
Click—
The arrow was set, aimed at the Legion Stone, surrounded by dozens of enemy mages.
Exhaling, Victor infused the arrow with demonic energy. One chance. No room for weakness.
“….”
The moment it aligned perfectly with the target, Victor released his hand…
“Not so fast, Deputy Commander?”
“…?!”
A voice behind him made Victor’s pupils widen. He spun around just in time.
Thunk—
“Ugh!”
His side burned. A black dagger had pierced him.
“Do you know how much work it took Mr. Cacherte to make just this?”
The dagger’s owner spoke.
“Ugh… You—how…!”
