T/n: Slightly late Tuesday's Chapter.
Duke Bradley Webster creased his brows while holding a wine cup.
Only, unlike Bradley who was sitting on a soft chair, the ten retainers were standing straight along a wall.
Bradley emptied the cup and spat out a long sigh.
'As that man passed the fief and the title to Roan, the laboriously prepared plans became a bubble.'
No, it wasn't at a level of becoming a bubble.
A large obstacle had appeared on the road he had schemed.
A laugh came out.
He raised his head and looked at the retainers standing along the opposite wall.
"And the Prince?"
At the short questioning words, one of the retainers instantly answered.
"He is moving busily, sir."
"Busily, is it……"
Bradley formed a bitter smile.
"This truly makes my heart sad. A grandson who doesn't think of his grandfather as needed anymore……"
He asked once again in a quiet voice.
"They said he extended his hand to Io, yes?"
"It seems he is an ungrateful grandson……"
Bradley bitterly smiled, then filled his cup again.
"Make sure to place people in Io's surroundings as well."
"Yes, understood, sir."
The retainers, with courteous manner, lowered their heads.
However, that wasn't the end of Bradley's orders.
"And we will have to take care of Roan's side as well."
"Should we attach a man on that side as well, sir?"
At the retainers' question, Bradley shook his head.
"No. There are lot of headache-inducing bastards on that side. The possibility of needlessly borrowing trouble is high."
The retainers asked Bradley's mind.
Bradley cheerily smiled and answered shortly.
"Call the hexers."
Instantly, surprised expressions floated up on the retainers' faces.
'Is the lord thinking of borrowing those revolting bastards' hand once again?'
Uncomfortable and dissatisfied looks.
The hexers were merely one of the weapons he had.
"Roan, let's tear apart……"
On his mouth, a horrifying and cold smile hung.
"That brat's mind."
After Roan and Baron Andre Molde's duel ended, the dissatisfaction towards Roan, whether sincerely or not, died down for now.
"The number of soldiers is still inferior."
"The level of the soldiers is also the same, sir. Since most of the Lancephil Guardian Army are farmers."
The war situation still wasn't good.
At that moment, Baron Bernard Landingham, who had been quiet, cautiously opened his mouth.
"Even so, the frontline itself isn't bad, sir. At the northeast frontline, us Lancephil Guardian Army, and at the center and the west, the Tale Legion have taken position."
Taking and looking only at the frontline itself, it was a situation where they were surrounding the Chase Legion and the Owells Forces.
Baron Andre Molde cut in.
"It's a situation where we are literally only surrounding them. Merely raids and ambush attacks are all the things we could actually do."
Group battle or frontal fight was illogical.
On their faces, expectations wondering whether there might be some method if it was Roan were floated up. Sure enough, Roan formed a faint smile as if answering the people's expectations.
"For now, I will tell you of the Chase Legion and the Owells Forces' every little movements."
Already, it was a situation where he had meticulously grasped the enemy forces' size and location as well as their travel directions and the formation of their camps through Agens, Tenebra Troop, and the druids.
Few commanders nodded their heads.
However, it was inadequate to cause a great reversal.
Something a little more definite was needed.
Thankfully, Roan had prepared another different plan.
He, with twinkling eyes, looked at the numerous commanders.
"There is a place that would harass the Chase County."
At those words, numerous nobles including Bernard and Andre creased their brows.
"The capital, Miller, has prevented the intervention of anyone other than those directly related to the fief war, sir."
"There is no man who could harass Count Chase."
Even in the worst circumstance, it was something impossible for even the kingdom's dukes.
Roan stared at their faces and smiled.
His expression was weighty.
Soon, a surprising story flowed out.
"Are not humans."
A long sigh hit the ground.
Underneath the shade that hung long, one young man was sitting and taking a rest.
Although countless soldiers were doing individual training and troop drills inside the drill hall, there was no one amongst them who spoke to, no, even approached him.
'How did it became like this……'
The young man spat out a long sigh once again.
At that moment.
There was one man who was directly crossing the drill hall and approaching.
A soft pressure exuded out from the bold steps and pose.
'Sir Count Roan Lancephil.'
The man walking towards the young man was Roan.
A bitter smile hung on his mouth.
'The thing called fate truly is awful.'
He saluted towards Roan.
"I greet Sir Count."
Roan slightly nodded his head, then stood still and stared at the young man.
Roan deeply breathed in and passed his greeting in a quiet voice.
"It's been a while. Walter Owells."
The young man, he was in fact the big shot who contested the valedictorian of the Pavor Academy Knight School and the firstborn of Kali Owells, who currently had betrayed Io Lancephil and had sided with Count Jonathan Chase, Walter Owells.
'Is it the first after seeing at the Slan Battle.'
Roan and Walter were already acquainted.
At least back then, Walter was a son of a prestigious noble house and an academy student with an outstanding ability, and Roan was an ordinary spearman of an ordinary commoner background who had nothing.
Although life was called something in which a single step ahead couldn't be seen, the two people's position at least had achieved a dramatic reversal.
Walter opened his chest with effort.
Walter chose honor rather than blood.
To correct his father's wrong, he had ran east and west and endeavored.
The cause of the outbreak of the current fief war and the traitor who pointed his sword at his master.
The weight that gave was much heavier than he had thought.
However, Walter had no dissatisfaction at the such situation.
Since Walter too found his father, Kali Owells, detestable.
Roan breathed in deeply.
"Walter, what are you doing right now?"
It was a voice that seemed like it was reproaching.
Walter erased the bitter smile and dropped his head.
"I was resting for a moment, sir."
Walter tried to speak as if to protest, but soon closed his mouth.
Roan quietly stared at such Walter.
"Walter, what do you think of your father, Kali Owells?"
Walter raised his head straight and answered without even a second of hesitation.
"He is a traitor, nothing more, nothing less, sir."
Roan slightly nodded his head, then asked again.
"If you were to face him on the battlefield, would you be able to swing your sword without hesitation?"
As expected, Walter answered without a single second of hesitation.
"Of course, sir."
Because he had such resolve, he had ignored even Kali's summon and had remained in the Lancephil Guardian Army.
Because he had such resolve, he could bear even the comrades' cold gazes.
'The knight does not hold his sword upside down.'
That was Walter's thought, and was Walter's value.
Roan, with a satisfied expression, nodded his head.
"There is an order I will separately give to you."
"Whatever order it is, I will follow, sir."
Walter straightened his pose with a determined expression.
Roan stared straight into his eyes.
"It's not an easy mission."
It truly was not an easy mission.
Roan approached Walter one step closer and spoke in a quiet voice.
"Betray the Lancephil Guardian Army……"
The sharp words hit his ears, no, pierced his heart.
"And go to Kali Owells."
"Yawn. Tired, tired."
The young soldiers yawned long.
The comrade that was nearby creased his forehead and spoke criticizing words.
"Get a hold of yourself."
At those words, the soldier that had yawned shook his head as he smacked his lips.
"Smack, there's no need to be too nervous like that. Here is a place that's quite distant from even the front line.There's almost no chance the Lancephil Guardian Army bastards would appear. Also, right now's a pitch black twilight, a twilight."
He looked up at the night sky and yawned long once again.
The soldier who made criticizing words spoke with a stiffly solidified expression.
"Haven't you heard that news? The allied camp located at the west has been annihilated by the Lancephil Guardian Army's raid attack. Recently, those bastards' movements aren't usual. And because of that, we even increased the number of guards like this."
The Lancephil Guardian Army, which had been busy maintaining the frontline, began to move like a ghost since about four days ago.
"Nah, that are small-scale troop camps that was done in, and large-scale camps like us Nox Troop is safe. Unless those Lancephil Guardian Army guys go insane, they wouldn't……"
When his words reached about that point.
With a horrifying sound, an arrow was stuck on the skull of the soldier who was chatting excitedly.
The moment the soldier who had been listening to his story lowered his head with a surprised expression.
Again, a single arrow flew and pierced the soldier's neck.
That was the start.
Pubuk! Pububububuk! Pubuk!
Crossing the night sky, tens, hundreds of fire arrows fell inside the Nox Troop's camp.
Following the fences and the tents, flames bursted up.
The soldiers who were carrying out the sentry duties became porcupines and fell.
Deng! Deng! Deng! Deng!
Even in that while, the ones who barely survived hit the watchtower's bell as hard as they could.
"It's an enemy attack!"
The soldiers sprinted out of the tents and shouted.
The soldiers fell into chaos.
At that moment.
As if it had been waiting, the sound of horse hooves ringing the ground were heard.
The fences that had been barely standing with fire on shattered into pieces with a sound of explosion.
Through the gaps of fallen fences, a cavalry showed up.
< Lancephil Guardian Army >.
< Pavor Academy Troop >.
The highly soaring flag showed off its dignity.
"Tore apart the camp's inside!"
The man standing at the head and leading the troop was Baron Andre Molde.
Following that back, hundreds of foot soldiers and archers showed themselves once again.
"Damn it! To think it's the Lancephil Guardian Army!"
The Nox Troop's commanders, who had appeared at the center of the camp a moment late, clenched their teeth tight.
Although several small-scale troop's camps had been defeated, they thought that they were different.
They hadn't possibly thought that the Lancephil Guardian Army, made up of farmers, would raid a large-scale troop's camp.
"Damn it! Put out the fire!"
"If we counter calmly, we can easily defeat them!"
The Nox Troop's commanders shouted at the top of their lungs.
At that moment.
The flame that waved following the fences suddenly began to move peculiarly as if to dance.
With a bright red flame, a single warhorse burst out in front of the commanders.
The commanders shouted with befuddled expressions.
The man who sat on the warhorse and slantly held the flaming spear.
A phenomenal sight.
That brought to mind almost a master of fire, a monarch of flames.
One amongst the Nox Troop's commanders stuttered words with a bleached white face.
"Th, the Crimson Ghost?"
The end of his voice severely shook.
At that sound, the nearby commanders as well as even the ordinary soldiers goggled their eyes and made shocked expressions.
"The Crimson Ghost?"
"How is Count Lancephil here?"
"Isn't he supposed to be in the west right now?"
Including them, the Chase Legion and the Owells Forces knew of Roan as roaming the western frontline.
He had been leading the Guardian Army and stirring the eastern frontline.
As if he had been waiting, a resounding voice bursted out.
"I am Roan Lancephil!"
The man, Roan shook the Travias Spear in a long line.
Each time, a stream of fire crossed the night sky.
"I will leave those who surrender alive! But……"
Suddenly, an incredible flame soared up with him at the center.
Simultaneously, the flame that flowed along the Travias Spear struck the ground.
With a sound of explosion, the surface of the earth flipped.
Roan glared at the Nox Troop's soldiers while slantly holding the spear.
"I will kill all those who resist."
He spoke in a horrifying voice.
An incredible pressure swept the battlefield.
"I, I surrender!"
Few soldiers threw down their weapons and kneeled down.
"You bastards! The enemy's number is smaller than us!"
"Fight! Push them out!"
The commanders swung their swords and shouted.
Roan looked at that sight and made a bitter smile.
He raised the spear up high.
"Lancephil Guardian Army, Charge!"
As soon as the order fell, the Guardian Army's soldiers, who had been tearing apart the camp, raised their weapons and pounced.
However, the thing that hit the Nox Troop ahead of them was.
The flame that extended long following the Travias Spear.
And Roan, who brought to mind the flame itself.
Together with a bright red flame.
< Crimson Ghost > End.
< Crimson Ghost (5) > End.
Translator : CSV