Chapter 91: Ghost Shadow (1)

Silence hung in the air of the conference room.

The words of Duke Denver.

They defied common sense.

Daniel Cairo, with a somewhat weak voice, said, "I acknowledge that Roman Demetri is an exceptional swordsman. Proving himself a three-star swordsman by defeating Homer at the mere age of twenty is indeed a blessing for the Kingdom of Cairo. However, those gathered here are well aware that Roman Demetri alone cannot influence the overall situation."

The four factions of Cairo.

They desired Roman for his future potential.

Everyone wanted to recruit him because he achieved three-star status at such a young age. If it were a simple comparison of current strength, there were many who were stronger than him.

In other words,

Roman Demetri was nothing against the Kingdom of Hector.

Roman's plan to cause internal division seemed nothing more than the reckless enthusiasm of a young man who had yet to fully experience the world.

This time,

Even Viscount Benedict sided with the king.

"I agree. Roman Demetri is Cairo's future. It's better to minimize the kingdom's losses through wise judgment rather than lose our talent over trivial matters. After all, hasn't the southern front already fallen to the Kingdom of Hector? We lost this battle from the start."

It was a realistic judgment.

Moreover,

Roman Demetri was a target Viscount Benedict wished to recruit.

He couldn't just leave him to die. He had already laid the groundwork at the southern training camp and planned to recruit him as soon as his national service was completed.

It was a plan everyone opposed.

Based on the surface information, no one would support Duke Denver.

'What should I do?'

Duke Denver suppressed a smile.

The information he had was something he could preempt due to his ranking management.

If he revealed the truth, it would turn the tide, but Duke Denver saw no reason to do so.

Even if Cairo's blood was shed,

His mind was in Valhalla.

"If everyone agrees, I won't insist. However, I don't think we need to give Hector what they want just because we have three days. Exactly three days. We can prepare for 'war' by mobilizing troops, but if there's no change on the southern front within three days, we can accept Hector's demands. What do you think?"

It was a compromise.

Edwin Hector had given them three days.

A time long enough to think but not long enough to turn the tide.

Duke Denver was betting on this.

If something meaningful could be achieved in such a short time, Roman's value would need to be reassessed.

Not just as a four-star swordsman,

But as a monster of even greater value.

Perhaps because Duke Denver's proposal seemed reasonable,

Daniel Cairo, after much deliberation, nodded with a dark expression.

"Whether we accept or reject the proposal, we need time. From this moment on, the Kingdom of Cairo will prepare for both war and negotiations with the Kingdom of Hector."

Just in case.

Everyone except Duke Denver had already accepted that the battle was over the moment the warp gate was captured.

To be blunt,

There would be no miracle.

* * *

At that moment,

Henry Albert felt like his mind was about to snap.

'What the hell.'

When he set out with Roman,

Henry Albert's chest was filled with unwarranted confidence.

With Roman, who had cut down countless enemies, he felt confident that they could overcome any danger.

But what a surprise?

Things went wrong from the start.

His low stamina couldn't keep up with Roman's troops, and he got lost shortly after setting out.

And,

When he finally arrived at the southern training camp, Henry Albert faced reality.

'Shit.'

The scene before him was gruesome.

A place that had been peaceful just a short while ago was now a wasteland, and familiar faces lay dead all around.

There was no sign of Roman Demetri.

His mind was in turmoil.

The ominous thought that Roman might have been captured made him hastily turn back.

"Retreat to the first defensive line."

The hero complex was long gone.

What he needed now was safety.

A fence to protect himself from the enemies who had turned the southern training camp into a wasteland.

As he hurried, the scene that greeted Henry Albert was the first defensive line, already collapsed and burning.

"Damn."

He was in shock.

In fact,

He had no idea the situation was so dire.

While the Kingdom of Hector had launched a surprise attack, the fifth defensive line had been well defended thanks to Roman's efforts.

He believed there was hope at the other defensive lines.

But seeing the first defensive line burning fiercely, Henry Albert collapsed to the ground, his legs trembling.

"It's over."

The first defensive line.

The core stronghold.

If it fell, along with the southern training camp, there was no hope left in this war.

He jumped to his feet.

Cairo had lost.

But that didn't mean he had to be a martyr.

"Retreat over the mountains immediately!"

"Move quickly!"

His judgment was swift.

The southern mountains.

Though the terrain was rugged and not ideal for escape, it was a better option than staying and being massacred.

Henry Albert ran as hard as he could, drenched in sweat.

His low stamina left him gasping for breath, and his soldiers, accustomed to a comfortable life, showed signs of exhaustion.

Roman Demetri's whereabouts were unknown.

But if he chose to fight,

Staying on the southern front with him would be like jumping into a burning fire with a straw in hand.

'War hero? I don't need that kind of reputation! I need to survive first!'

He ran for a long time.

The scenery changed.

In the middle of a lush mountain.

Judging that he was now relatively safe, Henry Albert fell to the ground, catching his breath.

"Phew, phew."

'I'm alive.'

The fighting was still going on below.

Once he crossed the mountain, he would be truly safe.

Just as he thought that,

Click.

"Shh. Be quiet."

A cold blade was pressed to his neck.

The voice belonged to Chris.

Henry Albert, who almost wet his pants, let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Chris's face.

Chris had drawn his sword to prevent any noise from escaping.

After sheathing his sword, Chris walked ahead.

"Follow me."

Perhaps because of the relief of being alive,

Henry Albert, following Chris, suddenly had a question.

'Why is Roman Demetri's knight here?'

It was strange.

Roman had said he was heading to the rear stronghold.

Why was his knight in the middle of the mountain?

He thought it might be related to the attack on the southern training camp, but it still didn't make sense.

If it were him,

He would have fled over the mountain as quickly as possible.

Though he had fled far, he couldn't say he was safe from the enemy's pursuit.

How long had they walked?

Henry Albert's eyes widened at the scenery around him.

'What is this?'

After just a few steps,

The scenery had changed.

It was a perfectly prepared stronghold.

Adequate cover shielded the soldiers, and behind it, a resting area was set up.

It was hard to believe this place was in the middle of a mountain.

A stronghold of this size should have been visible from a distance, but it suddenly appeared before his eyes as if by magic.

The soldiers were equally surprised.

In response to their reactions, Henry Albert asked,

"When did you set up this hideout?"

Chris didn't stop walking.

After signaling to the guards that he was not a threat, he answered without turning back.

"We confirmed that the southern training camp was attacked while heading to the rear stronghold. My lord judged that the rear stronghold had already fallen and immediately set up this secret stronghold in the mountains."

"Then we should have fled over the mountain immediately! Why are we still here?"

Chris stopped abruptly.

Turning to Henry Albert, he gave him a look of slight disdain.

"The war is not over yet. We are here to protect allies like you and to eliminate the enemies who are climbing the mountain. The mountain is a good place to deal with many enemies with a small force. If you were an enemy of Hector, the sword at your neck would have ended your life."

It was a chilling statement.

His mouth dropped open.

Though there was a social gap between Chris and Henry Albert, he couldn't treat him lightly after seeing his fighting skills.

Roman and his soldiers.

They were all monsters.

Especially Chris, who stood out with his exceptional combat skills.

'How does the Demetri family have such monsters?'

He swallowed his questions.

Then, he asked a question he had to know.

"Where is Lord Roman Demetri? I haven't seen him since we started."

They had already entered deep into the stronghold.

But Roman was nowhere to be seen.

Chris answered calmly.

"My lord is currently dealing with the enemies at the front lines."

Henry Albert's face turned pale.

As expected.

Roman Demetri.

He was a madman.

* * *

The outcome of war is a clear conclusion.

The death of the defeated.

Immediately after the first defensive line fell, the troops who fled from there were massacred by their pursuers.

Slash!

"Argh."

"Ugh!"

There was no way to survive.

Surrounded and attacked from all sides, Cairo's soldiers fought desperately but fell one by one under the merciless attacks.

Edwin Hector had made it clear that he didn't need many prisoners.

Given the need to quickly capture the entire southern front, he judged that many prisoners would be a liability.

Massacre.

Blood and death reigned.

As the number of soldiers rapidly decreased, Brandt, one of the officers of the first defensive line, couldn't hide his pale face.

'Donald, that bastard.'

Before the attack,

Brandt had witnessed Donald Duke receiving a message from Roman.

If they had listened to Roman then,

The worst could have been avoided.

They chose to defend based on unfounded enthusiasm, and the first defensive line fell without much resistance.

'The Kingdom of Hector was fully prepared. From the surprise attack to the capture of the rear stronghold and even Flare. This is a battle we cannot win. That's why Roman suggested fleeing to the mountains. He said it was for guerrilla tactics, but it meant abandoning the southern front.'

He didn't think it was cowardly.

It was the right decision.

The southern front was captured due to complacency, and from that moment, the outcome of the war was decided.

A crushing defeat.

A bitter taste lingered on his tongue.

Though he hadn't tasted blood, the smell of it made his nose tingle.

Thud!

Beside him,

A soldier's face was smashed into the ground.

A spear had pierced the soldier's skull, and Brandt instinctively swung his sword at the enemy.

Slash!

"!"

By a hair's breadth.

The attack failed.

Facing the angry gaze of what seemed to be a knight, Brandt felt a chill run down his spine.

'Is this it?'

The attack was too wide.

He had known since the first defensive line fell that he and the other soldiers on the southern front would not survive.

He gritted his teeth.

Accepting death and preparing for a final counterattack,

Slash!

Thud.

Blood splattered.

The head of a Hector knight floated up into the sky.

A man with black hair suddenly appeared, his eyes wide with shock.