Chapter 295: Chapter 294: Time to Reap the Rewards (2)
Chapter 295: Chapter 294: Time to Reap the Rewards (2)
Harold couldn't accept it. This power was forbidden, a last resort that would cost him his reason and life if used.
He had already lost everything. That's why he was willing to throw away even his life, using this disgraceful power to kill Ghislain.
And yet, it hadn't worked.
Even after using a power he thought he'd never need in his lifetime, he was still losing!
"Aaaaargh!"
Harold let out a beastly scream, flailing his fists wildly. But his attacks were no different from those of a commoner swinging blindly.
Shhk!
Ghislain slashed Harold's wrist clean off.
"Argh!"
This time, it was absurdly easy, with blood spurting out as Harold staggered back, his face contorted in pain.
Ghislain narrowed his eyes as he watched.
'As I thought, something's off."
Compared to what he'd seen in his past life, the level of Harold's mana cultivation technique seemed much lower.
A true berserker wouldn't even feel pain until their head was severed, nor would they regain their senses as Harold had.
Even Vanessa, in his previous life, had only regained consciousness when her core shattered and she was on the brink of death.
But Harold looked incomplete, as though he had failed to fully transform into a monster. Sure enough, Harold, bloodied and frantic, screamed in disbelief.
"How! How can you withstand this power! The transcendent power granted by the Duchy!" "The duke...?"
Ghislain finally understood. This mana cultivation technique wasn't something Harold had developed personally. It had been created by the Duchy and distributed to its subordinates.
But for the Duchy to have given something like this to a high-ranking noble like Harold? And for it to be so much weaker than what he had seen in his previous life?
'Does even that flawed mana cultivation technique have different levels? Or is the Duchy still refining it?'
In his past life, he had only encountered these techniques much later. Perhaps the differences were due to varying levels of mastery or the progression of time.
While he had dismissed it as insignificant in his previous life, now it irked him. The technique pursued effects similar to his own.
Ghislain wanted to interrogate Harold further, but he knew he wouldn't get a proper answer. 'And they call this transcendent power? To think they placed so much faith in something so mediocre.'
The power he had witnessed in his past life hadn't been this crude. Even ordinary knights could exhibit master-level strength.
Ghislain nodded in understanding.
"So it's clear. This must be an experimental version of the mana cultivation technique still being refined by the Duchy."
If the higher-level version he had seen in his past life existed, they wouldn't have given Harold, a key figure, something so primitive.
"...How do you know?"
Harold's face was filled with shock. This was a secret known only to a select few within the Duchy.
Yet Ghislain spoke as if he knew they were researching and refining their mana cultivation technique.
"What... what are you, really?"
Watching Harold's hysterics, Ghislain reduced his core's release by another stage. There was no longer any need to maintain the third stage.
Harold's body was visibly withering, aging rapidly.
As his mana cultivation technique shattered, Harold could no longer wield his power. Meanwhile, his life force, now uncontrollably raging, was depleting even faster.
Seeing Harold's pitiful state, Ghislain smirked and spoke.
"Let's just say I'm someone who's returned from death."
"What?"
"To destroy you and the Duchy."
"You... someone like you...! Someone like you dares to defeat me!"
Harold could no longer even lift his sword. He wept tears of blood, his voice rising in futile
rage.
Step. Step.
Ghislain walked slowly toward Harold.
Even if he waited, Harold would wither away and die. But-
"Such a death would be too kind for you."
It was the Duchy that orchestrated Perdium's downfall, but Harold had been the one to
execute it.
He had killed Elena, incited territorial wars, and ultimately trampled Perdium. Even in this life, Harold had schemed endlessly to destroy Perdium.
Someone who had operated behind the scenes in the North for so long could not be allowed to
die so easily.
Ghislain picked up Harold's sword and infused it with mana.
Crack.
The blade shattered, breaking into countless fragments that scattered onto the ground.
Ghislain used threads of mana to lift the fragments into the air, smiling coldly.
"Now it's time for you to pay for what you've done, Count Harold Desmond."
Рарарарарарар!
"Aaaaargh!"
The fragments pierced Harold's body, eliciting agonized screams.
The shards continuously stimulated his nerves. The pain was so intense that instead of losing consciousness, Harold's mind became even sharper.
"Aaaaargh!"
Harold collapsed, his body a bloody mess, screaming endlessly.
He convulsed for a long time before his seizures finally stopped. By the time they did, he had
become a shriveled old man, his hair and teeth completely gone.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
With his last ounce of strength, Harold's lips trembled.
"You... the Duchy will surely..."
And so, Harold died, unable to even close his eyes properly, his mouth agape.
Ghislain looked at the corpse for a moment before muttering dryly.
"A miserable death befitting someone like you."
News of Harold's death quickly spread through the Desmond forces.
Already surrounded by Perdium's forces and the kingdom's army, the remaining Desmond
troops either surrendered or fled upon hearing the news.
Gordon, the senior knight of Fenris, was the first to run to Ghislain. Blood dripping from his
mouth, he shouted joyfully.
"We've won! My lord! We've won! It's a great victory! We've defeated Desmond, the so-called
strongest army in the North!"
"Hooray!"
Cheers erupted from all directions. Against an army of 30,000, they had achieved a victory worthy of being recorded in history.
As everyone celebrated, Ghislain spoke with a stern expression to Gordon.
"Right now, gather all who can still move. Mount your horses and follow me."
"What? Why? Shouldn't we secure the battlefield, collect spoils, and rest?" "Leave the battlefield cleanup to my father and the kingdom's forces. Pass on my thanks to them. But we must move now. We must immediately capture Desmond's castle and its key
fortresses."
"Desmond?"
Gordon looked puzzled. Desmond's main forces were already annihilated. The place was empty, with no one left to defend it.
All they had to do was march in and take over. Who would dare stop them? Even if someone intended to claim the vacant territory, the war had just ended. It would take
time to learn of the outcome and act.
Gathering and leading an army there would also take time.
Moreover, they had the legitimate cause on their side. To oppose an army that included the kingdom's forces? There was no one in the North crazy enough to do that. "Why the rush? That place is already ours. No one can or would dare touch it."
Gordon voiced what seemed like the most logical reasoning. But Ghislain shook his head.
While others might not understand, there was indeed someone in the North who could.
A person with an army already prepared, someone who could act faster than anyone else, and who feared neither the kingdom's army nor consequences.
Surely, they had sent someone to monitor the situation here. As soon as the results were clear,
they would make their move.
Now, it was a race to see who would claim Desmond first.
"I'll explain later. Move quickly."
Ghislain mounted his horse immediately. Everyone was exhausted from battle, making it hard
to move at speed. But they had to push forward, even if only a little faster.
Before they could even savor their victory, Ghislain and the Fenris forces hurried toward
Desmond.
***
"P-please spare us!"
"We made a mistake!"
"I'll offer you a handsome reward!"
Bloodied lords knelt, bound, begging desperately for their lives. Pleas for mercy poured
ceaselessly from their mouths.
The target of their desperate pleas was none other than Amelia, the one they had attacked.
The northern lords had formed an alliance and brazenly attacked Amelia, but they were
utterly crushed and taken prisoner in no time.
Listening to their groveling, Amelia responded in a languid voice.
"You all banded together to stab me in the back, and now you beg for mercy?"
The captured lords turned pale as they shouted back.
"We surrendered! According to custom, you must spare our lives!"
"I swear never to oppose you again!"
"I'll give you half my estate's wealth as ransom!"
Their desperation was pitiful. Yet Amelia, without batting an eye, replied coldly.
"I don't let anyone who challenges me go unpunished. Dispose of them."
Meow.
Against the backdrop of Bastet's soft cry, the knights surrounding the lords began dragging
them away.
"W-wait! Please, spare us!"
"Didn't we surrender?!"
"You wicked witch! I'll haunt you even in death!"
The lords hurled curses and pleas as they were dragged off. Amelia, watching their retreat
without a flicker of emotion, turned her gaze toward a distant castle, her expression tightening slightly.
"Baron Valois... Still cowering in his castle, I see."
She had lured out the allied forces to engage them, but Baron Valois had refused to come out.
Even though she had created a highly advantageous situation, he hadn't taken the bait.
What Amelia didn't know was that Baron Valois had initially planned to join the allied forces when they arrived, believing they had a good chance of victory together. But the warning-or advice-he had received from Ghislain echoed in his mind.
[No matter what happens, do not leave the castle to fight. Even if it seems like an opportunity,
it's not.]
An opportunity had indeed presented itself. Yet the contents of Ghislain's message lingered,
as though predicting this exact scenario.
What finally pushed Baron Valois into indecision was none other than Daven.
"Let's go! Let's crush that wench completely! The northern lords are here, so we'll win for
sure!"
Daven, the fourth heir of Rayfold, was a pathetic individual with no skill beyond indulging in
vices.
The fact that such a person was so eager to charge out only made Valois trust him less.
Caught in hesitation, Baron Valois missed his chance to act.
But soon, Valois was grateful for his indecision as he witnessed a shocking sight.
The northern alliance's 5,000 troops were annihilated by Amelia's forces without putting up
much of a fight.
The sight sent chills down Baron Valois's spine. Even if he had joined them, the result wouldn't have been much different.
'So.... they deliberately made their siege half-hearted. They were aiming for this exact situation.'
Valois's anxiety deepened. Though he could hold out a bit longer, the outcome was all but decided. 'Amelia... She's a terrifying woman. Her success in the rebellion wasn't just luck. What a pity—if she were born a man, she would have been the most extraordinary heir.'
That thought made him see Daven, whom he was sworn to protect, in an even worse light.
After the alliance's destruction, Daven locked himself in his room, pale as a ghost, too terrified to leave, fearing Amelia's retaliation.
But what could Valois do? He had sworn loyalty to the former Count Rayfold and was duty-
bound to protect Daven, no matter how pathetic he was.
As days passed and they cowered like cornered rats, an unbelievable event occurred.
Amelia's forces began dismantling their camp and preparing to withdraw.
'What... Why are they retreating?' Unbeknownst to Valois, what had saved them was the news of the battle between Ghislain and
Harold.
The agents sent to observe the situation in Fenris returned as soon as it became clear Fenris
had secured victory. This had been Amelia's explicit order.
"I couldn't confirm Count Desmond's fate, but Fenris's victory is certain. The main Desmond
forces are annihilated, and their remaining troops are encircled by Perdium's army and the 3rd Corps. Desmond has no way to win." Amelia's eyes gleamed with twisted amusement as she smirked.
"Ghislain... To think he was capable of this much. Even with the kingdom's support, defeating
Harold's 30,000-strong army is impressive."
She had doubted his chances, but now she had to admit that Ghislain was no ordinary foe. In
fact, he was extraordinary.
With Harold defeated, Ghislain would claim the title of the North's strongest.
If he secured Desmond's territory, that is.
But Amelia had no intention of letting Ghislain take it so easily.
Her eyes cold, she turned to Bernaf and gave her orders.
"Prepare to retreat immediately. We will take Desmond first."
As Ghislain stood over Harold's lifeless body, Amelia and the Rayfold army began their march
toward Desmond.
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