194 - Marble Fort

POV: Rygar Adoldia

My advance plan through the Sacred Country's territory was not as rigid as that of a large-scale army.

During the Legion's War Council, many of us concluded that my mobility would be essential for a crushing victory.

There was no predetermined route beyond this fortress before me; the plan was simple: traverse enemy territory, destroy smaller bases along the way, and, ultimately, obliterate the marble fortress ahead of me.

That was the initial route established. But what would come after that would depend on my own decision, based on events and the enemy's movements.

The reason for that? Pope Lucios. He could see the future, but the limitations of his vision were unknown to the Legion. We were betting on those gaps, those margins of uncertainty.

My speed and my power would be the main weapons against the Milis Generals.

For example, Lucios could predict that I would reinforce an army, but could he foresee when I would do so? How fast I would move? And what if my keen instincts changed my decision at the last moment? To what extent would his prediction remain valid as long as I reacted to them?

It was a mystery to all of us.

In the end, the combat forces were too balanced for either side to be defeated by a single successful battle.

Even if he predicted my actions, the timing and efficiency with which I executed them could be difficult or even impossible to react to.

So now that I had reached the fortress, I made my decision: beyond here, I would head toward the Second and Third Vanguard Divisions, successively, to check their progress, reinforce them if necessary, and, of course, destroy any enemy army that crossed my path.

Well… what can I say about that? Ghislaine and Verdia were in command of the Second Assault Division.

Perhaps I had some preference when choosing my route? I would never answer that question out loud, but I could not deny that I cared about them.

And about Eris as well… What if they encountered an ambush involving multiple generals?

I shook those thoughts away. Ghislaine was powerful—perhaps the strongest woman I had ever met in both of my lives.

She was not a strategist, obviously, but as a combat general, her presence would be overwhelming. With Verdia leading the army's tactics, everything would go smoothly.

In fact, all assault divisions were organized in this way: great melee combat power, combined with strategists, specialist mages, and support units.

And, of course, each division was led by a powerful duo, or almost, balancing brute strength and tactical intelligence.

There was no reason for excessive worry. My wives were formidable warriors in their own right, having also faced multiple life-or-death battles.

They had bled, won, and survived on battlefields long before this war began.

The cold wind blew across the plain where I stood. I took a deep breath and looked at the fortress once more.

The fortress that rose before me was called the Marble Fort.

Its name was no coincidence. Its walls were made of a white, gleaming mineral, similar to marble, almost as if they wanted to reflect the "purity" of the country that raised it.

It was a mineral difficult to destroy.

Of course, that was irrelevant to me. No matter how thick or resistant those walls were, I could probably destroy them with a good punch, if I so desired.

Behind those walls hid one of the three best-armed military complexes in the entire Kingdom of Milis.

And among the three, this was the hardest to invade.

It was not the most fortified—that title certainly belonged to the Holy Capital of the Kingdom, Milishion—but it was the best positioned.

High atop a steep hill, the Marble Fort dominated the region with a wide, clear view. An absurd tactical advantage.

From there, they could spot any movement for miles.

Its towers were equipped with heavy crossbows and ballistae capable of bringing down even dragons in midair.

Furthermore, the Marble Fort was stocked with deep and mysterious Barrier Magics woven into the very foundation of the structure.

How many more secrets that fortress hid was something that not even the Legion's intelligence could discover. And for that very reason, I decided to come personally.

We could take it by conventional means, of course.

Send a division, surround it, besiege it, cut off supplies, open breaches with powerful mage artillery, and send strong commanders as the vanguard… But that would cost time.

And lives. Many lives. As I could bypass almost all defenses, it would not be a big problem to take it myself.

To me, it was just another slightly larger stone in the path.

However, unlike other stops I had made until now, I did not advance straight into the fight. I did not break down the gates with a crash and charge in carelessly, killing everyone in my way.

At this fort, I stopped a few hundred meters from the main entrance.

They had already noticed my presence long ago, apparently, my Nullification Barrier did not work against this Fort.

And, to my surprise, they did not try to flee as soon as they perceived my arrival.

On the contrary… they began to prepare for battle.

That was also why I did not invade without more contemplation as in the other stops I had made so far.

After all, it was wise to be cautious.

It was almost impossible for me to fall into a deadly trap if I was not attacking Milishion directly, but that was assuming I took care.

So, I stopped and listened calmly to the conversations inside the fortress.

The soldiers were nervous and, for the most part, all silent.

The inner part of the fortress was impossible to hear due to a Sound Barrier, but I could deduce some things from the conversations of the low-ranking soldiers.

Some exchanged glances, others told dry jokes in an attempt to relieve tension. But it was somewhat easy to distinguish what was happening there.

From what I understood from fragments of conversation, this Fort was the core of a desperate effort by the King of Milis himself to end the war once and for all.

He had used all his remaining influence to gather nobles and some smaller church factions, uniting them in a single gamble: annihilate the "Beast God"—that is, me.

It was a unilateral move. Pope Lucios, Galgard, and even Cardinal Leblanc had opposed this decision, treating it as a futile effort.

But the King went ahead anyway; he still had some influence in his own Kingdom, and not everyone fully understood the depth of my power.

And that told me a lot.

If he acted even outside the Pope's influence, it meant this was a very risky move.

It also meant that they were desperate. That they were willing to lose whatever was necessary, so long as they took me with them.

With that, I could suppose that at least two Milis generals were inside. Perhaps more, otherwise they would not have proceeded with such an attempt.

Apparently, they imagined I would come to the Fort with a complete army—which would be a reasonable move. And they prepared to face a siege.

But upon seeing me alone, mixed reactions occurred.

It was a disconcerting mixture of joy and terror.

Joy at not having to face an army, and fear at my confidence to invade alone.

Some soldiers murmured prayers, bidding farewell to their families even though they were not at home. Others spoke of my arrival as if it were the end of times.

There were those who trembled… and those who shouted in anger, trying to convince themselves that they could stop me, and there were also those who awaited me with a fanatical, determined gleam in their eyes.

Gradually, I managed to sense the flow of mana circulating through the walls with my Demon Eyes and understood part of their effects.

I did not obtain any details about the main forces and strategies against me, but that would not be a big problem. No matter how much they had prepared, they still severely underestimated me.

Since Galgard, Lucios, and Leblanc were not involved, it was more or less guaranteed they would not be a great threat.

It was time to show the world just how terrifying a magic swordsman could be.

Calmly, I smiled, and raised both hands slowly, lifting them to the sky. Mana began to flow, and the earth started to tremble.

"Very well…" I whispered to myself. "Let's see how far your faith goes."

---

On a distant battlefield, in a land painted by the blood of countless skirmishes, Demon King Gretta Fowsark fought fiercely against a knight clad in dark silver armor.

He wore a helmet adorned with a long red plume and moved with overwhelming speed and power—or at least tried to.

The Silver Heart Knight was from the most powerful noble family in Milis.

Proficient in all fighting styles, he officially held the title of Saint of the Sword God, Water God, and North God styles.

Furthermore, he had trained in countless other techniques and developed his own combat style: he wielded a sword and an axe simultaneously, uniting offense and defense in complementary movements.

Before the war, his strength was known only in Milis's restricted noble circle.

However, at the start of the Crusade against the Great Forest, the Silver Heart Knight revealed his fangs to the world: he killed formidable champions of the Legion and quickly ascended to the position of one of Milis's Ten Generals.

Unfortunately for him, his current opponent was the powerful Demon King Gretta.

The halberd she wielded moved with destructive force, preventing any reaction from the knight.

It was a polearm, something the Silver Heart Knight had almost never fought against before—very few modern warriors chose spears or halberds as their main weapon.

The knight was not short; in fact, he was almost two meters tall, but Gretta was still about half a meter taller than him, granting her reach and physical advantage.

Her purple hair waved in the wind like living chains, following each monstrous swing of her weapon.

Despite the disadvantage in size, strength, and reach, the Silver Heart Knight remained steadfast. He moved skillfully, alternating axe and sword strikes, avoiding the huge blade of Gretta, absorbing every nuance of her style.

Thanks to his knowledge of diverse styles, he adapted to each of her attacks.

Although with each impact of the halberd the ground shook and debris flew, he managed to dodge and keep his guard.

Slowly, he began to understand Gretta's cadence, adapting his offenses and defenses based on a meticulous reading of her movement patterns.

Meanwhile, around the two commanders, the battle raged even more violently.

The armies clashed on a wooded plain, where several sparse trees dotted the terrain—not enough to form a forest, but enough to break rigid formations.

Gretta was leading the advance toward a nearby fortified city, which was also home to many civilians still awaiting refuge within its walls.

To spare innocent lives, the Silver Heart Knight decided to lead his army to the open field, meeting Gretta's forces: whether the victors would be the attackers or the protectors would be decided on that blood-soaked ground.

The knight evaded a vertical strike and counterattacked with his sword, slicing the air diagonally.

The metal glinted for a moment before Gretta blocked with the body of her halberd, sending sand flying.

With a lateral leap, he spun the axe, trying to pierce the lower part of her guard, but Gretta stepped back, using the greater reach of her massive weapon to keep distance.

A shattering of rock announced the force of the impact.

The halberd descended like lightning, forcing the knight to step back for a moment.

The ground beneath their feet cracked, and the crater left by a failed blow raised dust. Both moved with impressive speed for the weight of their armor and weapons.

The knight's axe spun in circular strikes, trying to create openings, but Gretta pressed him constantly, denying him space.

Not far away, Lisena was casting her Ice Magic nonstop to decimate the Milis soldiers.

Spears, spikes, and ice daggers crackling into white crystals as the Milis soldiers fell under her uninterrupted magic.

Still, Milis's contingents in that city were abnormal in number.

Under the Silver Heart Knight's unwavering command, his soldiers fought with inflamed spirit: their commander's honor inspired them as if they were fighting for justice.

The battle remained at an impasse.

Suddenly, a colossal roar tore through the air. It was the roar of a dragon that echoed across Milis's sacred land.

Many of the warriors paused their attacks for a brief moment, surprised. Even Lisena looked up, momentarily distracted.

Taking advantage of that momentary distraction, an enemy Sword Saint, executing the Longsword of Light, slid dangerously toward Lisena.

A single strike, swift and impossible to react to for ordinary mages.

If the attack landed, it would be fatal—the King-level mage, one of the Legion's most valuable pieces, would see her head roll in an instant.

However, at the last second, a red blur cut across the battlefield.

In one instant, the Sword Saint was about to decapitate Lisena; the next, his back split into two halves, dividing his lower body from his upper.

The figure who delivered the blow did not look back: she advanced, cutting down every Milis soldier before her with incomparable speed and ferocity.

Her mere passage through the battlefield caused the ground to crack and the wind to roar.

Soon after, a majestic red dragon emerged above the enemy troops, breathing flames that engulfed men, weapons, and horses.

Screams and explosions thundered as the creature swept the battlefield, a true incendiary whirlwind.

In the midst of that flaming chaos, a red-haired swordswoman stood out. After the slaughter was over, she leaped with grace onto a high rock.

And, in another calculated jump, she rose into the air. The red dragon, in perfect synchrony, stretched its neck and caught her in midair, without hesitation.

Everyone present was left speechless by the scene.

"It's the Red Lioness!" someone exclaimed, astonished.

"Yes! That's Eris Adoldia!" another shouted, recognizing the swordswoman instantly.

Eris's presence renewed the Legion's morale. With blood in their eyes and unwavering determination, the soldiers advanced with even more ferocity against Milis's defenses.

The clash of steel upon steel sounded like endless thunder. War chants and battle cries echoed, infecting even the most fearful hearts.

Lisena, however, remained oblivious for a moment, watching the dragon as it flew to another region of the battle with Eris, her red hair billowing in the wind.

The world seemed to move in slow motion through the ice mage's eyes.

On that fateful day, the armies of the Silver Heart Knight suffered their first defeat since the war's beginning, at the hands of Demon King Gretta and the Red Lioness Eris.

Forced to retreat, they left behind the city, which now fell under the Iron Legion's dominion. The plain fell silent under the echo of shattered catapults, broken shields, and inert bodies.

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