Shall We Begin the Next Operation? (1)
"What? You failed?"
Marquis Falkenheim furrowed his brows in disbelief.
Of the knights dispatched to the Swipel territory, only two had returned. And even they had their mana cores destroyed.
"No way… how could he…?"
The force had included high-level knights. In addition, Count Swipel's knights had also participated.
Even if their opponent was a superhuman, there was no way he could win against such a force in a head-on confrontation. His own superhuman subordinate had reviewed the operation multiple times.
Marquis Falkenheim called in his strategists to hear the full details of the battle, grinding his teeth in frustration.
"Gasqot… that fool…"
They had been fighting well—why on earth did he suddenly decide on a one-on-one duel?
Even if the opponent was exhausted, he was still a confirmed superhuman. Engaging in a duel out of sheer vanity?
It was nothing short of foolishness.
Of course, Gasqot had not acted purely out of arrogance—he had also been ensnared by Ghislain's scheme.
But since the knights had been unaware of this fact, the Marquis had no choice but to lay the blame on Gasqot.
Not just him—those knights who had surrendered were also a problem. If they had pushed through to the end, the Swipel forces might have finished the job.
Yet they had surrendered the moment the battle turned against them? He had never seen such disgraceful cowardice.
However, the most shocking news was yet to come.
"They… betrayed me?"
More knights had survived besides the two who returned. The rest had been captured and defected.
Hearing this, the Marquis clenched his teeth in rage.
He could understand that they had betrayed him to save their own lives. But a traitor would die by his hand eventually.
They knew this, and yet they still betrayed him—utter madness.
"They defected just to protect their worthless mana cores?"
Marquis Falkenheim was livid. As he is not a knight, he could not begin to comprehend their way of thinking.
"Prepare a new operation immediately! No, mobilize the army! We'll crush them completely! Execute every traitor on sight!"
There had always been ample justification for war. Initially, it had not been necessary for his house to intervene directly—he had intended to leave it to the Yulian Mercenaries.
But now, for the sake of his family's dignity, he had to take action personally.
He had no concerns about being attacked in the meantime. There was no one capable of challenging him.
The king was nothing but a puppet, and the kingdom was practically in his grasp. A few neutral nobles remained, but their influence was insignificant.
As the Falkenheim house prepared to march on Nordhill and Lacus, unexpected news arrived in quick succession.
"My lord, the king has raised an army!"
"What? That fool has mobilized troops?"
"Yes! He has declared you the leader of a rebellion and formed a punitive force!"
"How could that wretch possibly muster an army?"
"The 2nd Royal Army, stationed near the capital, has defected! Nordhill's and Lacus's forces have joined them!"
"The 2nd Army betrayed me? What happened to the commander-in-chief?"
"He was executed for treason! The current interim commander-in-chief is… the vice-captain of the Yulian Mercenaries."
"The Yulian Mercenaries? Don't tell me…"
"Yes, it's the very superhuman we tried to kill."
"They moved first!"
Marquis Falkenheim's face twisted in rage.
The king, Nordhill, Lacus, and the Yulian Mercenaries had all been marked for death anyway. This was nothing more than their last, desperate struggle.
"Damn it… just a little longer, and I would've had the Pope's approval!"
The Empire's sentiment had been gradually shifting in his favor. If he had waited just a bit more, the situation would have been completely in his hands.
Now, the Empire would quietly withdraw its support. Intervening in a civil war would provoke the ire of other kingdoms.
Supporting a rebel faction without legitimacy was even worse.
Marquis Falkenheim, seething with rage, barked at his vassals.
"Speed up the war preparations! Their army isn't even that large! Crush them in one strike and capture the king! Lock him in the tower as soon as we seize him!"
His vassals rushed to carry out his orders. But things did not unfold as he had anticipated.
More unbelievable reports kept pouring in.
"My lord! The vassals near the capital are surrendering! The punitive force has grown to 30,000 troops!"
"…What?"
"Kingdom forces all over are joining the punitive force! Their numbers have risen to 50,000!"
"..."
"The attack was so sudden that the vassals were unable to coordinate! They had no time to prepare for war, so they are surrendering en masse! The punitive force now numbers 70,000!"
"..."
"A m-major crisis, my lord!"
"…What now?"
"Neutral lords and nobles have joined the punitive force! Their total numbers have reached 100,000!"
"..."
"The punitive force is now targeting the great lords! Even they are surrendering without a fight!"
Under normal circumstances, great lords could hold out by fortifying their castles. But none were willing to stand up to the punitive force.
It was obvious why.
No one wanted to be the first to throw away their life in a doomed resistance.
"..."
Marquis Falkenheim, who had been standing in stunned silence, finally asked:
"If they're moving like that, how are they managing supply lines and frontlines?"
"They are seizing troops and provisions from every territory they pass! They're not maintaining a frontline; they're just moving like a swarm of locusts!"
"..."
Marquis Falkenheim felt his mind go blank. He could not comprehend where everything had gone wrong.
This was not how wars were fought. A haphazard army like that would collapse at the first misstep.
And yet, they had chosen this strategy.
'They think all they need to do is bring me down.'
Marquis Falkenheim's eyes turned cold. The enemy was charging forward without a care for the future.
They were not waging a conquest—they were betting everything on a single decisive strike.
"Fools. Do they really think they'll be safe after defeating me?"
Such reckless devastation would bring severe repercussions.
The lords had surrendered only because they had no choice. But they would surely seek revenge against the royal family.
Even if the king survived, the kingdom would plunge into greater chaos without an absolute ruler.
"Tsk, I should've killed him earlier. So, that's how badly he wants to survive?"
Muttering to himself, the Marquis suddenly considered another possibility.
"Could it be… they're hoping for a Demon Realm uprising?"
If the Demon Realm surged forth, the entire kingdom would be forced to unite. Nothing was more urgent than combating the enemies of humanity.
But there was no guarantee that the Demon Realm would act soon. It could happen tomorrow or a hundred years later—no one could predict it.
Relying on such an uncertain factor was too great a gamble.
Marquis Falkenheim shook his head, clearing his thoughts. The entire situation was absurd.
"All I need to do is crush them."
Even if the punitive force had grown large, it was still an impromptu army. They would not have proper coordination.
"If they want a decisive battle, I'll give them one."
A disorganized horde could never defeat a united, disciplined force. That was common sense.
However, one major threat remained—the superhuman of the Yulian Mercenaries. Someone needed to deal with him.
"Send Count Godiff and Count Grozian."
Two superhumans. They would be enough to bring down Astion.
"Deploy all knights and mages except for essential defenses. Order the remaining loyal vassals to mobilize immediately. We must annihilate the enemy in one strike."
Though they, too, had to hastily gather forces, they would still be in better condition than the punitive force.
But the expressions of his strategists remained uneasy.
"We still haven't secured a proper supply line. Our resources are far from sufficient."
"If we march out in such haste, we won't be able to manage our troops effectively."
Boom!
Marquis Falkenheim slammed his hand down on the table, his voice thunderous.
"And? Are you telling me to just sit back and watch those so-called punitive forces rampaging everywhere? Can't you see their numbers increasing by the minute?"
Even if they were a ragtag force, their numbers had swelled too much. Worse yet, even the neutral lords who had been biding their time had now joined them.
Having chosen a side, they could no longer back down. They would do everything in their power to reduce the strength of Falkenheim's vassals.
He needed to act quickly, rallying the remaining vassals. Both sides had moved hastily—there were bound to be disorganized elements, but that was unavoidable.
Then, one of his strategists spoke up with a different proposal.
"We should deploy our troops but maintain a stalemate for now."
"What do you mean?"
"The punitive force is an improvised army. Many lords likely surrendered out of sheer fear of their overwhelming numbers. If we hold our ground and delay engagement, the situation will naturally turn in our favor."
"Hmm…"
"If we clash head-on, we will win, but we will also suffer heavy losses. The enemy simply has too many troops."
"Go on."
"They are sustaining themselves by pillaging nearby territories, whereas we have a stable supply line. Their situation is fundamentally different from ours. Given time, their forces will inevitably fragment."
Marquis Falkenheim nodded in agreement.
The punitive force was barely managing to hold itself together. They were undoubtedly eager to end this war as quickly as possible.
"There is no need for us to suffer unnecessary losses. We only need to keep our vassals from being overrun and wait for the enemy to collapse under its own weight."
"Not a bad idea."
"After all, it's they who are desperate for a decisive battle, not us. We have no reason to play into their hands."
The strategist was right. The punitive force was in a position where stopping meant death.
They had no choice but to press forward and end things in a single stroke.
Marquis Falkenheim decided to adopt the strategy. As much as it angered him, there was no reason to take unnecessary risks.
"Very well. We will mobilize swiftly, but focus on defending our remaining vassals. Inform them that we are moving."
"Understood."
The 80,000-strong Falkenheim army, hastily assembled, was the first to move. The remaining forces followed with ample supplies to maintain the front lines.
As he watched his army march out, Marquis Falkenheim murmured with a cold glint in his eyes.
"The king must be declared dead in the chaos of war."
Now that the king had made the first move, there was no need to hold back. Killing him quickly was out of the question—he would be made to pay dearly for his foolishness first.
***
"Is… is this really okay? I think we've gathered more troops than we can handle…"
Andrew wiped the sweat from his brow as he voiced his concerns to Ghislain.
The punitive force had now grown to 150,000 strong.
With such overwhelming numbers, they no longer had to worry about the lords who had surrendered from Falkenheim's side.
The army was too large for them to even consider betrayal, and even if they tried to unite, they would be too disorganized to cooperate effectively.
More importantly, the participation of the neutral lords had been a huge boon. Having risked everything to join the cause, they were now working even harder to maintain order within the ranks.
However, the sheer size of the punitive force was becoming a problem. Their hasty mobilization had left them struggling with supply issues, and sustaining such a massive army was becoming increasingly difficult.
At this rate, they would collapse under their own weight before even reaching Marquis Falkenheim.
Yet, despite Andrew's concerns, Ghislain simply chuckled.
"No need to worry. We just keep moving forward."
He remained as relaxed as ever, as if he didn't even see the chaos in their ranks.
Andrew took a deep breath, trying to suppress his growing anxiety. It was baffling.
'We really have been seizing all our soldiers and supplies as we go along…'
It was an insane strategy, yet it had played out exactly as Ghislain had predicted. Even seeing it firsthand, Andrew still struggled to believe it.
'Well… if a superhuman showed up with this kind of army, I'd probably surrender too…'
Anyone could theorize about possibilities. But actually executing such a reckless plan required extraordinary confidence and skill.
Had it been anyone else, this approach would have been impossible.
The punitive force, which had been sweeping through the kingdom, arrived at its next target—the County of Villette.
Count Villette was a great lord. True to his status, he had stationed his troops densely within his massive fortress.
As usual, Ghislain stepped forward and called out in a booming voice.
"I won't waste words! You've heard the news, haven't you? You have three seconds to decide! Surrender!"
Immediately, a magically amplified voice rang out from the castle.
"Three seconds? You could give me three years, and I still wouldn't surrender, you lunatic mercenary bastard!"
By now, Astion's infamy had spread throughout the kingdom. His actions were nothing short of madness to most.
Count Villette continued hurling relentless insults at Ghislain.
Yet, despite the verbal abuse, Ghislain remained completely unfazed.
"You know, no matter how much people insult me, it just doesn't feel like an insult anymore. I must have grown that much as a person."
The only one suffering inside was Astion.
Though it had no real effect on him, this was the first lord to outright curse him to his face.
Ghislain narrowed his eyes in thought.
'Hmm… he's putting up more resistance than I expected. But I heard he wasn't particularly courageous.'
Count Villette commanded 20,000 troops. It was a significant force, but hardly enough to stop the punitive army.
They had no siege weapons, but among their ranks were hundreds of mages and over a thousand knights.
If Ghislain led the charge himself and the rest swarmed the walls, they could take the fortress in no time.
The count must have known this as well. And yet, he was still standing firm.
'Has Marquis Falkenheim finally made his move?'
If so, then it made sense why Count Villette was so confident. He must have believed he had a real chance at victory with Falkenheim's reinforcements.
Ghislain pulled his army back slightly before immediately dispatching scouts in all directions.
Before long, reports came flooding in.
"Marquis Falkenheim's army is establishing a base nearby!"
"They are extending their frontlines across multiple territories!"
"Their total forces number around 120,000! The banners indicate they've been joined by vassals from territories close to the marquisate!"
Hearing this, Ghislain nodded.
"Alright, it's about time we stopped advancing."
They had gained enormous ground through swift, aggressive tactics. But this method was never meant to work indefinitely.
The remaining vassal forces would soon rally and reinforce Falkenheim's position.
It was clear why Falkenheim was extending his frontlines instead of launching an immediate counterattack.
'So, he wants to buy time by protecting his vassals and preventing any more defections? Smart move.'
A prolonged war would favor Falkenheim's side. Without a proper supply line, Ghislain's army would eventually collapse.
Meanwhile, Falkenheim's forces would only become more organized as time went on. He was already working swiftly to stabilize his position.
But this outcome was well within Ghislain's expectations.
Understanding the enemy's intent, Ghislain grinned.
"Alright, then. Time to begin the next phase of the operation."
Of all the possible scenarios he had considered, this was the one he had wanted the most.
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