Chapter 25

"Alice! Alice!"

Clyris stormed into Alice’s laboratory like a whirlwind, shaking the sleeping girl awake.

"Mmm... what is it? Miss Clyris... yawn..." Alice opened her eyes groggily, sitting up and stretching.

"I’ve thought of a way! A way to solve the problem of requiring a mage to engrave High-Rank runes!" Clyris exclaimed, her voice vibrating with excitement.

"What?!" Alice was instantly wide awake.

"Come on, we need to find Freya. We need to verify my method immediately!"

"What are we waiting for?! Let's go!" Alice jumped up, grabbed Clyris’s hand, and started running toward the door.

"Hey, hey, hey! Alice, slow down! Don't be so excited!"

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"Ugh..."

Viscount Baroque slowly regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to find himself lying at the bottom of a large crater.

The battlefield had returned to silence, but the chaotic fluctuations of mana and the residual heat in the soil told him he had been subjected to a devastating attack.

"Urgh..." He struggled to sit up. It wasn't easy.

His left arm and left leg were gone. A shell had landed just to his left side.

The enchanted armor, meticulously crafted by supernatural artisans, had done its job to some extent—it blocked enough of the blast to keep him alive and conscious, but it couldn't save his limbs.

"Heh..." Viscount Baroque painfully crawled out of the crater. Standing on his one remaining leg, he looked around. The landscape was pitted with craters deeper than a man is tall.

Fragments of knight armor were scattered in the dirt, but most of the men were simply buried.

The artillery bombardment had practically overturned the earth itself. Not even the grass remained.

"Is anyone there...?"

Baroque stared blankly at the black smoke drifting across the ruins and roared hoarsely.

"IS ANYONE THERE?!"

"Here..." A familiar voice called out weakly.

Baroque’s face lit up. He hopped towards the source of the sound.

"Viscount Rick! You're alive! Thank the gods!" Baroque crawled to the edge of another crater, looking down at the man inside with relief.

"Ah... not dead. But not much better off," Viscount Rick croaked.

His legs had been severed by a 200mm high-explosive shell. He could only lie helplessly in the dirt.

"What about the other three?" Rick asked.

"I don't know. They were marching in the rear. I don't know their status," Baroque shook his head.

"Heh! They probably ran," Rick gritted his teeth. "Where did Charlo find so many Sixth-Rank Grand Magi? Damn it!"

Suddenly, the dense thundering of hooves approached. Both men sensed it instantly.

Baroque looked back. A massive group of strange cavalry was charging toward them.

They bore no chaotic heraldry, only unified red triangular flags. They wore no shining plate armor, only neat, uniform black attire. They carried no lances or warhammers, but strange iron tubes.

The cavalry bypassed the two wounded nobles—or rather, they bypassed the area churned up by artillery fire—and continued their pursuit.

"Is this... Charlo's Knight Order?" Baroque stared at the strange riders.

He didn't know that most of these cavalrymen were ordinary humans, with only a small portion being First-Rank Knights and fewer than ten Second-Rank Knights.

But to Baroque’s eyes, this unit—riding warhorses with practiced skill, dressed in uniform military gear, and radiating a disciplined, murderous aura—was clearly an elite Knight Order.

"Why... are there so many?" Baroque counted roughly. There were at least five or six hundred riders.

"What is it?" Rick asked from the bottom of the pit, unable to see.

"I mean, Charlo has so many knights..." Baroque muttered, watching the galloping soldiers.

"How many?"

"At least five Knight Squads!"

"What?!" Rick exclaimed. "How is that possible?!"

"It's true. Why would I lie to you?" Baroque sighed helplessly. "With so many knights, plus a significant number of Sixth-Rank Grand Magi casting spells... we didn't lose unjustly."

"Is that so..." Rick laughed bitterly. "It seems the two Earls in the capital truly dote on that boy... But Earl Esther didn't tell us anything. We were sold out."

Rick could only assume that Earl Iron Rose and Earl Sharp Sword had secretly reinforced Charlo. Otherwise, he couldn't explain where Charlo got so many knights and powerful mages.

The key point was that for such a large force to enter the Borderlands, Earl Esther—the Border Warden—could not possibly be unaware. Yet he had said nothing.

This was interesting. Their territories were interconnected, and they had always helped each other resist Earl Esther's expansion... Could it be that Esther's target from the start wasn't Charlo, but them? Was Charlo just Esther's knife?

No, no, no... Charlo is backed by two ancient Earl families with five thousand years of history. Earl Esther's family only rose a thousand years ago. He doesn't have the status to use Charlo as a tool.

Then it must be cooperation. Esther tricked us into coming here, Charlo did the dirty work, and now they will carve up our territories!

"Baroque!" Realizing this, Viscount Rick shouted at the dazed Baroque.

"What?" Baroque turned back, still confused as to why the cavalry hadn't attacked them.

"Baroque, listen! We were set up!" Rick spoke rapidly. "Earl Esther likely made a deal with Charlo! He quietly allowed the troops from Iron Rose and Sharp Sword to enter. Their target is us!"

"What?!" Baroque gasped. "How is that possible?!"

"Then tell me, where did Charlo get so many Grand Magi and Knights? Could Esther be ignorant of an army entering the East?" Rick cursed. "That damned miser! He sold us! His real goal is to split our lands with that brat Charlo!"

"Then... what do we do?" Baroque looked at him, panicked.

"There is no other way..." Rick took a deep breath. "The fight is over, and you and I are cripples... Surrender, Baroque!"

"Surrender..." Baroque fell silent.

"We aren't dead. The legal rights to our territories are still tied to us," Rick explained. "We can surrender to Charlo. Have our families pay a ransom, maybe cede some land, and that should be enough!"

"Alright!" Baroque thought it over. The logic was sound. "I agree."

"Baroque, be quick!" Rick warned. "We must negotiate with Charlo before Esther's knights enter our territories! If we are too late, we'll never get back the land Esther occupies!"

"I understand! Rick, wait here for me!"

Baroque agreed, then hopped away on his one leg without looking back.

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The Command Center.

"...The cavalry unit has advanced to pursue and expand our gains. To prevent accidents, three hundred Assault Troopers are leading the vanguard. Even if they encounter scattered enemy knights, it shouldn't be a major problem," Davis reported.

"Good." Charlo put down his pen and looked at the map.

The battle had gone incredibly smoothly. Because they knew Baroque's marching route in advance, they had set an ambush. With superior firepower, they achieved victory with minimal casualties.

"Release the Reconnaissance Balloons again. Scout further out!" Charlo ordered. As a modern man, he knew the importance of aerial reconnaissance. That was why he had built mana-powered Reconnaissance Balloons early on.

It was thanks to these balloons that he had known Baroque's route and set the trap.

"Yes, My Lord!" Davis nodded and left.

A moment later, a messenger ran in. "Report, Commander! We have captured prisoners. Confirmed to be the enemy leaders: Viscount Baroque de Lion and Viscount Rick de Smith!"

"What?" Charlo paused, then reacted quickly. "Secure them. And—keep them separated from the other prisoners!"

"Commander, they are demanding to see you immediately."

To see me? In such a rush?

Charlo was puzzled. He couldn't figure out why. Were they afraid he would annex all their territory?

That was impossible. His current strength was still relatively weak. He could digest one Viscountcy at most. Any more, and he wouldn't have the personnel to manage it, plus it would immediately trigger the vigilance and hostility of Border Earl Esther de Smolder. The gains wouldn't be worth the loss.

So Charlo had never considered annexing any Viscountcy entirely. He just wanted some land and money.

"Forget it!" Since he couldn't figure it out, he might as well see them. "Bring them in!"