Chapter: 283

Ivan spent most of his life on the battlefield. From the most humble conscript to an officer directly commanding military operations.

In other words, he understood every role from a lowly soldier to the highest commander concerning the military operations of Krasilov.

Therefore, given just a small clue, it was not at all difficult to infer the grand strategy of the Krasilov Legion.

For example.

Q. At the moment the Northern Grand Gate collapsed, the Seven Dragon Lords-level adversary is leading a tremendous number of demon forces south, and with the 1st Legion evaporated, what would be the best course of action for the 2nd Legion?

A. Quickly retreat to establish a battlefield environment that can maximize the firepower of the 2nd Legion.

Let’s expand the situation a bit more.

Q. In a situation where the Northern territories have all been abandoned, the morale of the 2nd Legion is gradually declining; when would desertion reach a level that would cause the legion to collapse?

A. As the enemy encounters draw closer to the south. If the movement radius of the 2nd Legion is the central plains, the frequency of desertion would increase in proportion to the travel distance, so considering the standard marching speed of the Krasilov Legion, which includes artillery, it would be at most a week.

Q. Considering the above conditions, what would be the most accurate tactical judgment the supreme commander of the legion should make?

A. Use high-value targets that the enemy would consider significant as bait to force a rotation. This rotation must occur at the weakest point of the allied forces, and thus prepare an escape route that the enemy does not anticipate. After delaying the enemy’s advance as much as possible, retreat from the battlefield while maintaining minimal losses.

Q. What would be the optimal battlefield to execute the above operation?

A. Considering the alliance with the Dwarves and the results of previous campaigns fought alongside them, a basin shape would be most suitable. The enemy could appear to have the upper hand by seizing high ground, and the basin would easily conceal the existence of underground tunnels.

Additionally, to induce the central plains as the enemy’s point of offensive termination, this battlefield must be located south of the Northern territories, in the northern part of the central plains.

Furthermore, to prevent complete encirclement, one side of the battlefield should face natural terrains such as rivers or cliffs, and the battlefield should be adjacent to terrains like forests or marshes to disrupt the enemy’s movements.

It hadn’t taken long to make these inferences. Even before crossing the Grand Gate, and even before Elizaveta had established her ‘bait operation,’ Ivan was already anticipating the best strategy Elizaveta would employ.

So here it was.

This place was Elizaveta’s best option. And he had rushed here with the resolve to support her retreat and, further, to annihilate the Seven Dragon Lords from this position.

What Ivan could accomplish with Yuri’s ‘abilities’ and his own ‘judgment’ had already been proven in Drovian. They had previously managed an impossible operation without communication from opposite ends of the country.

Thus, Ivan had no doubt that it would be the same this time.

Indeed, until he arrived.

“…”

Every place that met his eyes had turned into wasteland.

The forest had been cleared away, burned, and among the unclaimed corpses, there were no complete limbs left. Neither human nor demon.

Demons do not consider supply capabilities in their march, so their rations depend on the number of humans they have slain. In other words, the fact that disfigured bodies were strewn about meant…

“Demons have won.”

Ivan did not answer Duke Volonovin’s words.

This was the evidence of the demons’ victory in battle. The torn human corpses meant just that.

“Are we too late? Just how many have died?”

Even just estimating the visible human corpses totaled over a thousand. Considering that most were likely devoured by demons, the number would be at least three times that.

Around three thousand soldiers had died here. And judging by the formation of the 2nd Legion, and noting the absence of any artillery, that was essentially the entirety of the 2nd Legion’s infantry.

The infantry of the 2nd Legion had effectively been annihilated here.

“Sir…? Sir!!”

“Aunt!!”

Ivan, noticing the children grasping at him, realized he was kneeling. Extreme fatigue and stress were gnawing at his stamina.

The human body is not made of steel. Even superhumans will collapse eventually if worn down continuously. Ivan knew this and had forced his companions to rest while failing to do so himself.

Even if he would inevitably collapse one day, it sufficed that the collapse occurred after the conclusion. If he fell apart after the last moment of the story prepared for him, then what did it matter what came after?

He just had to hold out until then, so he acted as if he would live forever. He consumed day after day madly, moving as if he had never even thought of conserving his stamina.

His only driving force was ironically ‘hope.’ Only hope.

A belief that at least tomorrow would be better than today. A hope that this damned pre-modern fantasy life would someday come to an end. Or at least…

A belief that the lives connected to his blood, the grace bestowed upon him by the late king, and the woman supporting his kingdom would remain by his side until the end.

Yes, perhaps he had given up on the hope of escaping from this world. But he was fine with that.

As he removed a strand of hair from the cheek of the woman who lay beside him, he might have thought so.

That for this woman, it could be a reason for him to stay here.

Perhaps there might still be something left to hold onto in this world.

All that he had loved had died ahead of him, yet he hoped that at least this country, this woman, and this world would not.

Crack.

Ivan absentmindedly looked down at his hands. Blood vessels had burst, turning red. His skin was tearing from the strain. Below, clear droplets of blood dripped down steadily.

What remained, as always.

Revenge.

As always, it was too late, and far too meaningless. But as a tribute to those who perished meaninglessly, it was the most appropriate offering.

Maximilian. What on earth do you want by committing such atrocities? Why have you brought calamity upon every nation in this world, thrown countless people into death, and yet continued without stopping, killing your former comrades over and over?

The day he would understand him would likely never come. Yet, he did not even have the desire to understand. What remained… yes.

Revenge. That was all.

“Colonel, are you going to give up?”

Duke Volonovin looked at Ivan with submerged eyes. Beside him awaited countless weary soldiers.

The time they had left to execute the battle was also limited. There was no time to pause. So, they were warning not to linger in sorrow but to proceed.

The human heart is weaker than one thinks; no matter how sturdy a person appears, they can crumble too easily in the face of tragedy. These old avengers knew that fact. From experience, they too had been there.

Thus, if they were to collapse before tragedy, they desired it to be behind them. Because they could empathize with that feeling, and feared collapsing themselves.

Ivan brushed his bloodied hands and stood up. He closed his eyes, placing his trembling hand on his brow. When he removed it, the blood-stained mark stretched across his cheek.

“Even if the day comes when the last of you gives up on revenge…”

He opened his closed eyes. Beneath his shadowed face, his bright blue eyes were blazing with light.

In a grim, cracked voice, he whispered softly.

“I will not.”

EP49. Falling Star.

“Almost there! Just hold on a bit more!”

At Rundis’s voice, Elizaveta forced her closed eyes open. Two days of battle, followed by another two days of marching.

In the past two days.

The underground passages had been occupied by Goblins, and the Dwarven engineering troops were isolated in those tunnels, battling against the Goblins.

The underground was different from the surface; the enemies’ offense was not flat. Some popped up beneath their feet, while others broke through the ceiling or demolished solid walls, wielding weapons.

Their diminutive bodies showed extreme efficiency underground. The Knights had to abandon their spears and defend themselves with daggers and shields.

Thus, they advanced while decimating numerous Goblins that sprang up anywhere over the past two days. As superhumans, among Tylesse’s knights, though some might have been injured, none had died. It was a miracle.

They rescued isolated Dwarves, rallied their forces, and once again headed south.

And now, that fruition was in sight.

“Ah…”

The king, who had to wander underground for so long, raised his hand to point at the sky and sighed.

The dazzling sunlight welcomed them in a way that was almost unbearable. The green plains of early autumn unfolded before their eyes.

Karvinsk Plains.

To the south lay Frechenkaya, while to the east and west stood vast farmlands adjoining, the lifeblood of this land.

The great Arta River, originating from the west, flowed past this plain into Frechenkaya. In the past, the pastures along the river would have been teeming with sheep and cattle grazing peacefully.

But not now.

Military banners stood assembled. Countless military camps swayed across the horizon. The pastures, which once fed the cattle and sheep, were now home to mounted soldiers clad in armor.

The king slowly faced the waves of fluttering military banners that blocked the horizon like a wall.

Lorensia, Bellacria, Leonor, Albina. The knights of the Southern Six Nations.

The largest military banners unfurled from above, and beside them, like a guard, stood the Eastern Knights and the Etarique family crest.

Beyond that, on the southern railroad, trains that had been rebuilt were now rapidly making stops, linking to makeshift railway stations. Most of the cargo being unloaded were military rations and weapons, topped with the emblem of Equitania.

No longer did the sunlight underneath the sky cause his eyes pain. Not because he had adapted to the sun but because it had been obscured.

A massive shadow covered the noon fields.

“Aah…”

The king quietly exhaled. It was not clouds floating in the sky.

Five aerial battleships were docked, transferring supplies to the ground. About half of the elf faction from Kalion had arrived at this moment.

And below that.

Her legion was visible. The artillery of the 2nd Legion, the ‘Harvesters’ artillery, which had to be protected at all costs, was glimmering in the sunlight.

The arrangement was so precise it looked as if it had stepped out of a military manual illustration. An artillery unit capable of collapsing an entire area at the same time was now fully deployed.

Among them were beings smaller than humans.

Dwarves were maintaining her legion, erecting moats and ramparts in front of them, and digging trenches underneath while supervising the construction.

Before all this, Elizaveta sighed in wonder at the gathering of all the power of the United Kingdom.

“A miracle.”

Rundis smiled broadly. The Tylesse knights lined up beside her and Oscar, who led them, laughed alongside her.

Indeed, this was a miracle.

What were the odds of forces and resources from different nations and rulers arriving at the same place at the same time?

All rulers of this era were selfish and greedy. What were the chances of willingly receiving a legion, troops, and supplies from such figures to form a coalition army?

Now that everything had succeeded, what should today’s scenery be called? There was no other word but miracle.

And Elizaveta knew more clearly than anyone who had created that miracle.

All of them were those saved by Ivan over the past two years. The man who had prevented divided Tylesse, rescued a crumbling Kalion, liberated the subdued Dwarves, and saved the Southern Six Nations from the clutches of the Seven Dragon Lords.

If there was the greatest miracle, then yes.

It was that this man was from Krasilov. That such a man was loyal to this country, that he fought and had fought for this land and would continue to do so.

She quickly wiped the moisture from around her eyes, adjusted her expression, and walked forward with confidence.

As the lady of the man who had forged this miracle, she had no intention of showing any weakness at any moment.