The battlefield outside the city was finally silent. The enemy army, which had once pressed so fiercely against the gates, had broken apart entirely. What remained was a landscape of horror—shattered armor, broken weapons, and the lifeless bodies of men who had once marched proudly under the banner of the Nord Kingdom. The survivors who managed to escape the storm of steel and fire fled like terrified animals, scattering in every direction, leaving their dead behind.
Atop the city wall, Gavin Ward stood tall in his gleaming plate armor. His presence was commanding, his face unshaken by the carnage below. Raising his long sword high, its polished blade glinting under the sunlight, he gave his order with a voice that carried across the battlements.
"Cease the shelling! American soldiers, hold the wall! Everyone else—pursue the fleeing enemy!"
A thunderous cry followed him, echoing across the ruined plain.
"Long live His Majesty Gavin Ward!"
The city gates groaned open. Knights, their lances glinting, thundered forth on horseback, riding with the fury of hunters chasing down prey. Soldiers poured out behind them, sweeping across the battlefield like a tide of vengeance.
Though over thirty thousand Nord troops remained alive, they had no will left to fight. They were men broken by the relentless storm of artillery and the unyielding roar of heavy machine guns. Even in retreat, their hearts carried only terror. To them, the very sound of gunfire was no longer the noise of war but the voice of death itself.
When the knights caught up with the fleeing masses, resistance was almost nonexistent. Men simply dropped to their knees in the dirt, covering their heads, their bodies trembling violently. Some shouted surrender in broken voices, while others simply waited for death. For these men, the battlefield had become a nightmare they would never escape, even in memory.
As the pursuit stretched into the distance, Gavin remained on the city wall, his cold eyes watching the tide of battle wind down. Yet, while his men secured victory outside, Gavin turned his attention inward—to the strange, invisible system that had become his greatest weapon.
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The System Awakens
Hovering before him, unseen by others, three glowing options appeared.
[Lucky Draw]
[Mall]
[Technology Tree]
Of the three, only the first two were bright. The technology tree remained gray, unresponsive. Gavin narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Not yet unlocked… perhaps because I haven't advanced far enough in development."
He dismissed the thought for now and selected the mall option. Immediately, a new list unfolded.
> [The system mall refreshes five items weekly. Items may include technologies, weapons, equipment, or troops. Please check regularly.]
[Current Kill Value: 23,678]
Five products appeared before his eyes:
MG42 General-Purpose Machine Gun – Design Drawings | 15,000 Kill Value
Rifle Production Line Workers (100 men & women, 100% loyalty) | 2,000 Kill Value
German Führer Guard (100 soldiers, 100% loyalty) | 5,000 Kill Value
One Quinjet Fighter Jet | 100,000 Kill Value
Red Alert Apocalypse Tank Combat Team (3 tanks + 50 mobilized soldiers) | 300,000 Kill Value
Gavin drew in a sharp breath. Each item was extraordinary. The Quinjet and the Apocalypse tanks—these were war machines beyond comprehension in this world. Yet their prices placed them far beyond his reach.
"One hundred thousand, three hundred thousand… ridiculous. That's not for today."
Instead, his gaze lingered on the MG42 design drawings, the production workers, and the elite German guards. Together they totaled twenty-two thousand kill points. Exactly within his means.
"Perfect."
Without hesitation, Gavin confirmed the purchase. His kill value shrank drastically, leaving him with only 1,678 points. Yet what appeared in return was worth far more than numbers.
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The Arrival of Reinforcements
In a shimmer of light, figures materialized on the city wall beside him.
The first group appeared like shadows from another era—German Guards, clad in pitch-black uniforms, steel M35 helmets gleaming, MP40 submachine guns slung across their shoulders. Long-handled grenades swung from their belts, and their faces were grim and disciplined.
Beside them stood another company—100 rifle production workers, both men and women, dressed in sturdy gray overalls. Their eyes were steady, filled with a kind of unwavering loyalty that could not be shaken.
Finally, before Gavin lay a sealed crate. Inside, wrapped in protective coverings, were the design drawings of the MG42 general-purpose machine gun, one of the deadliest tools of modern warfare.
Though the American troops manning the walls showed no visible reaction, Gavin noticed subtle flickers of emotion as they glanced at the German uniforms. Memories of an old war lingered, but the system's influence kept them docile. In truth, the American contingent was only temporary—within three days, they would be reclaimed by the system.
For now, however, they served him faithfully.
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The Aftermath of Battle
The pursuit lasted hours, though the battle itself had ended in less than ten minutes. By the time the knights returned, dusk was beginning to fall, painting the sky with streaks of red.
Knight Rotis, one of Gavin's most loyal vassals, knelt on one knee before him. His voice trembled with awe.
"Your Majesty, we have returned!"
"How many prisoners were taken?" Gavin asked calmly, his tone devoid of triumph.
Rotis lifted his head, his eyes shining with fervor.
"Under Your Majesty's command, we achieved victory without a single casualty! More than 23,000 prisoners have been captured alive and brought back!"
Even as he spoke the words, he seemed half unable to believe them. With little more than a thousand soldiers and a hundred knights, they had forced nearly thirty times their number into submission.
He remembered the moment vividly: when the knights approached the broken Nord soldiers, they had expected a desperate final stand. Instead, what they found were men who cowered, whimpered, or fled in blind terror. Capturing them had been less like war and more like rounding up livestock.
Still, the sight of so many broken enemies left Rotis uneasy. The memory of the battlefield haunted him—the shredded corpses, the smoking craters, the smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh. It was a sight that could only have been wrought by weapons beyond this world.
His gaze returned to Gavin, and he understood. All of this was the power of their king. Gavin Ward, their great majesty, who had brought them victory when defeat had seemed inevitable.
In his heart, Rotis felt both reverence and fear.
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Prisoners and Mines
"The prisoners," Gavin declared, "will be reduced to slaves. Send them to the mines."
The knights bowed, accepting the command without hesitation.
The lands around Los were rich in untapped resources—iron veins running deep through the mountains, coal deposits waiting to be unearthed. Yet manpower had always been scarce. Now, with tens of thousands of laborers at his disposal, Gavin could finally turn those hidden resources into the foundation of his empire.
The knights rode out to carry his will, but Rotis lingered, his expression shifting strangely beneath his helmet.
"Your Majesty," he said cautiously, "within the Nord camp, we discovered… unusual goods."
Gavin raised an eyebrow. "Unusual goods?"
"Please… come see for yourself."
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A Dark Discovery
Rotis led him toward the gates. There, ten soldiers pushed carts into the courtyard. On each cart sat a cage half the height of a man, covered in black cloth.
With a gesture, Gavin signaled for the cloth to be lifted. What he saw within made his brows furrow.
Inside the cages were young girls, petite and frail, their eyes wide with fear. Their hands clutched the bars, trembling as they gazed at the armored men surrounding them. For a brief moment, Gavin thought the Nord Kingdom had turned to slave trading, an act forbidden by the Central Council decades ago.
Yet, as he crouched to inspect closer, he realized these were no ordinary children. Each bore delicate animal ears atop their heads—fox-like, cat-like, and others. Their faces were human, but their features carried an otherworldly charm. They were not humans at all.
"Orcs," Gavin muttered under his breath.
The Nord king had trafficked not merely humans, but orc girls.
A chill swept through him. This discovery was more than just disturbing—it hinted at a deeper corruption within the Nord Kingdom, one that would need to be unraveled in time.
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Important Events in This Chapter:
The Nord army collapses under Gavin Ward's command, leaving 23,000 prisoners captured without casualties.
Gavin uses his system to purchase the MG42 design drawings, 100 production workers, and 100 elite German guards.
Tens of thousands of prisoners are enslaved to mine iron and coal, securing resources for future war.
A dark secret is uncovered in the Nord camp—orc girls imprisoned in cages, revealing the Nord Kingdom's trafficking crimes.
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