CHAPTER 67: I have no choice but to change the game myself (3)

Baron Fabro, a vassal of Digald and commander of the supply unit, paced nervously in his tent, unable to sleep.

It wasn't because he was pondering over strategies or troop logistics.

He simply couldn't sleep because he was in such a good mood.

"Heh heh, at last, I'll be receiving my own land."

Fabro didn't have his own territory.

Even Digald's territory was small and insignificant, so the idea of Fabro, as one of Digald's vassals, ever receiving land was nearly unthinkable.

But this time was different. If everything went smoothly, he'd be granted a portion of Perdium's land.

"Aligning myself with Count Desmond was the best decision of my life."

Fabro had always taken bribes from Desmond, supporting his side at every opportunity.

It wasn't just Fabro; most of Digald's vassals acted similarly. Steering their land according to Desmond's wishes was hardly a challenge.

"Hehe, this time, I might even gain some fame."

Even though he was only in the supply unit, he would still gain a little recognition just by being part of the war.

In high society, simply participating in a war was enough to attract attention.

Besides, he was with the rear unit, so there was no danger at all. All he had to do was support the main army with supplies.

A war this safe and profitable? Where else could such an opportunity exist?

"But who would have thought Count Desmond could gather so many soldiers? This might make him stronger than Rayfold."

Though disguised as Digald recruits and mercenaries, the sheer size made it unmistakable.

Desmond had sent a force that would have required the combined might of several small territories.

The main army was so large that Digald's soldiers were barely sufficient to form the rear supply unit.

"Perdium is done for, absolutely finished."

Even if the forces were equal, there might have been a back-and-forth struggle, but with this difference, they'd crush Perdium without a doubt.

With siege weapons in hand, Fabro figured Perdium wouldn't last a single day.

A war they simply couldn't lose.

That's why Fabro has been in such high spirits lately.

Thud, thud, thud.

"Hm? What's that sound?"

Lost in his happy thoughts, Fabro snapped to attention when he felt an odd vibration.

Stepping out of his tent, he saw several knights looking around in confusion.

"Hey, what's going on?"

When Fabro asked, one knight shook his head in puzzlement.

"I don't know, sir. An earthquake, maybe…?"

The thought that it might be an enemy ambush didn't even occur to them.

With the small forces of Perdium, they couldn't even imagine them dispatching a detachment for an attack.

There hadn't been any word from the main army ahead of them, either.

Thud, thud, thud.

The tremors grew stronger by the second.

Fabro scratched his chin, deep in thought.

"What could it be? Is a herd of cattle stampeding or something?"

At the thought of a herd of cattle, Fabro realized the vibrations felt eerily like the sound of hooves.

"No way, that's impossible."

He chuckled at his own silly imagination.

Though torches were lit, thick clouds obstructed visibility, and they couldn't see far ahead.

All they could do was listen and try to gauge the situation.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

They finally realized what was happening just as Ghislain's army drew near.

"Wake up! Wake up! We're under attack! It's an ambush! Move!"

Knights who managed to react shouted out.

Meanwhile, Fabro, the commander, could only gape in disbelief.

"An ambush? How? Why?"

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

"Aaaaah!"

Only when the enemy was nearly upon him did Fabro snap out of his daze.

He yelled urgently as he ran backward.

"Enemies! Enemies! Everyone get out and defend!"

Even then, he didn't believe they would lose.

He assumed there were at most a few hundred of them.

How else could they have bypassed the main army so quickly?

Even as a supply unit, they had a thousand soldiers. This kind of ambush was manageable.

"Move quickly! Move! We outnumber them!"

Soldiers scrambled out of their tents with weapons in hand.

Some hadn't even equipped themselves fully, and the formation was a mess.

Amidst the chaotic commotion—

Boom!

Ghislain's forces emerged from the darkness.

"Aaaaargh!"

The soldiers on the outskirts were wiped out in an instant.

Torches, struck by flying bodies, were scattered about.

Soon, flames began to spread. In the ensuing chaos, soldiers ran about in disarray.

Several knights from Digald tried to organize the troops.

"Gather together! Form a line!"

But reestablishing the formation was impossible.

The enemy leveraged high mobility, bulldozing through anyone who tried to obstruct them.

Some mercenaries even tore through tents with sheer brute force.

Thud, thud, thud!

A knight of Digald saw Ghislain charging at the forefront and drew his sword.

Dressed differently and leading the charge, the knight instinctively recognized Ghislain as the enemy commander.

'If I kill him, this ends!'

With a fierce resolve to strike down the enemy and his horse, the knight raised his sword.

Thud, thud, thud!

Due to the spreading flames, he couldn't make out Ghislain's face.

But backlit by the flames, he glimpsed something terrifying.

Ghislain's eyes glowed red with unrestrained hatred and boundless fury.

The moment he felt the chilling rage in Ghislain's eyes, the knight froze.

"Aaaaaah!"

Summoning mana, he pushed through the fear and charged forward with all his might.

"Die!"

Ghislain tilted his body slightly to the side.

With all his strength, he swung his axe upward from below.

Crack!

With one blow, the knight charging toward him was split in half, from groin to head.

The mercenaries following Ghislain cheered, whistling in delight.

Slash! Slash!

Any soldier in Ghislain's path had their heads split or their necks severed by his axe.

Belinda watched Ghislain with a worried expression.

This was likely his first time killing people directly—was he hiding his turmoil?

Meanwhile, Ghislain reached the opposite end of the camp in an instant, spun his horse around, and gave an order.

"Finish them off."

At his cold command, the mercenaries turned back and charged at the enemy again.

Without a place to retreat, Digald's forces crumbled.

There were no trenches or obstacles to fend off the mounted assault.

The ability to predict and prepare for vulnerable places and times was a commander's skill. And Fabro was not a good commander.

"Gillian and Kaor, take care of the remaining knights."

Thud, thud, thud!

The mercenaries split into two groups and encircled the enemy.

Their synchronized movements looked like those of a highly-trained cavalry.

"They're well-trained,"

Ghislain nodded with satisfaction.

Using high mobility for surprise attacks and charges—his favorite tactics in his past life.

To execute this shock strategy, Ghislain had spent a fortune outfitting the mercenaries with proper gear and horses.

While his personal combat prowess was ranked seventh among the Continent's seven powerhouses, his skill in warfare placed him in the top three.

He was both a butcher and a king of the battlefield.

Digald's soldiers screamed.

"Aaaaah!"

"We need shields! Where are the shields?!"

"Gather! Regroup!"

Coming out unprepared, they couldn't stand against mercenaries hellbent on slaughter.

Without a solid formation, infantry are powerless, no matter their numbers. And in this chaotic battle, giving commands was impossible.

The slaughter resumed.

One by one, Digald's soldiers began discarding their weapons and fleeing.

"Don't let a single one escape!"

At Ghislain's command, the mercenaries chased down the scattering soldiers.

For mounted warriors, panicked fleeing soldiers were easy prey.

Some enemy knights fought back but were killed by Gillian and Kaor one by one.

Being a supply unit, there were only a few knights on their side, and the enemy collapsed quickly.

"Hah! This is exhilarating!"

Kaor and his group, in particular, rampaged like fish in water.

In the Forest of Demonic Beasts, they had to constantly fend off the monsters just to survive.

But against humans, they could unleash their madness fully.

Some dismounted and charged at soldiers nearby.

"Die! Die!"

"You're all too weak! Like insects!"

Several Digald soldiers grouped up to resist, but they couldn't change the tide.

Ghislain moved across the battlefield, ensuring his men's safety.

If a group of enemies gathered or his mercenaries seemed in trouble, he would rush in, splitting heads with his axe.

Over a thousand Digald soldiers fell in a heartbeat.

"It's over."

Belinda glanced at Ghislain with a curious look.

'What is this? It's his first time in war, isn't it?'

Killing monsters and killing humans were entirely different.

For anyone, a first experience of war would be mentally overwhelming.

Yet her worries were misplaced.

'Why is he so calm?!'

Ghislain killed enemies as if it were natural.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him a born war maniac.

'It's not calmness.'

Ghislain, who swept through the battlefield, looked like a man forcing himself to swallow flames that burned fiercely within.

Belinda couldn't understand.

What reason could Ghislain have for bearing such a grudge against Digald?

While she wondered, the sounds of enemy screams gradually died down.

It meant the battle was nearing its end.

A moment later, Gillian dragged someone along and threw him down in front of Ghislain.

"This seems to be their commander."

Fabro looked up at Ghislain, trembling.

Despite how weak and poorly trained Digald's soldiers were, a force of over a thousand had been annihilated in an instant.

"P-please spare me."

Fabro had relied solely on the sheer number of his soldiers, missing his chance to flee.

He had attempted to escape, but Gillian quickly caught up to him.

He couldn't die like this—so unjustly.

'The main army will win anyway.'

As long as he stayed alive, he might be released later.

Usually, in war, noble captives were taken as prisoners rather than killed.

Their liege or family would pay a ransom, which was often more profitable.

For this reason, Fabro felt comfortable surrendering.

"Spare me! Count Digald will surely pay a ransom! I surrender! I surrender!"

Ghislain silently looked over Fabro's face.

The moment their eyes met, Fabro, who had been desperately pleading, fell silent, paralyzed by fear.

Ghislain's gaze was as cold as a snake's, his expression completely devoid of emotion.

Predatory eyes gleamed, studying him.

It was as if Ghislain were deciding whether or not to devour him.

"Your name."

"B-Baron Fabro, sir. And who are you?"

"Ghislain Perdium."

"Ghislain…? The young lord of Perdium?"

Fabro's jaw dropped.

He knew Ghislain's name well. Along with Gilmore, Digald's heir, Ghislain was notorious in the North as a troublemaker.

And this man had executed such a bold ambush, slaughtering over a thousand soldiers?

The idea that Count Perdium was actually a dragon felt more plausible.

But it was unthinkable to insult Ghislain Perdium as a scoundrel to his face.

Fabro quickly bowed his head, concealing his true thoughts.

"Young lord, please accept my surrender. It would benefit you too—a hefty ransom could be yours."

But Ghislain gave an unexpected reply.

"No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to remember."

"W-what does that mean?"

"It means you're so insignificant that I can't even remember you. Either way, the result is the same."

Ghislain grabbed Fabro's hair, pulling him up while raising his axe in the other hand.

"Aaaaaah! Spare me! I'll pay a generous ransom!"

"I don't do deals with the likes of you."

"What do you mean by that? I'm a noble! Show the courtesy due to nobility!"

"Courtesy on the battlefield? Where?"

Ghislain laughed as if he found it absurd. But there wasn't the faintest trace of a smile on his face.

"Well, there is one thing I can take from you."

With those indifferent words, the axe fell.

Crack!

"Your life."

***

Clank, clank!

Ghislain strode into the castle.

Mercenaries clad in armor followed behind him, laughing rowdily.

Everyone in the castle lowered their heads and moved aside as soon as they saw him.

A trail of blood was left with every step Ghislain took.

Blood dripped from him from head to toe, but he didn't bother to wipe his face.

What was even more frightening was Ghislain's eyes.

They were as cold and detached as ever.

If his eyes had been filled with killing intent, it might have been less terrifying.

Before, he had been a troublesome menace people avoided; now, he was someone people feared.

Thud!

Ghislain pushed open the doors to the audience hall and strode in confidently.

Zwalter and the vassals, who had been in the middle of a meeting, gaped in shock as Ghislain appeared.

They had assumed the young lord had run away.

Yet here he was, drenched in blood from some unknown battle.

"W-what on earth have you done?" Zwalter asked in a trembling voice.

Without answering, Ghislain simply bowed, then placed a blood-soaked box on the table.

The vassals gasped at the sight.

None of them could fully grasp the situation.

Then Ghislain's voice rang through the hall.

"The supply unit has been wiped out. Now, let's begin the siege."

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