Volume 2 chapter 52
In later generations, historians would debate endlessly about the true turning point of the war between the Demon Race and the Alliance.
Some argued it was the Night Raid on Picars, claiming it fired the first shot of the demon counterattack. Others pointed to the Diversion of the Prague River, arguing that the man-made flood halted the Alliance offensive and bought the demons critical time to gather strength.
But most agreed that what truly shifted the strategic balance was the Counterattack at the Dragonspine Mountains. It completely shattered the Alliance's offensive momentum, forcing the war into a stalemate.
After that battle, the Eastern Alliance Army had to urgently divert forces to support the center, forcing them to contract their defenses and lose all offensive capability. The Western Army followed suit, staring helplessly at tens of kilometers of trenches, their previous advantage gone.
But none of that mattered to me right now.
I was lying in the Mana Pool, painfully regenerating my body, while—chatting with Charlo online.
[Charlo: So you just rushed in recklessly like that?!]
It was called chatting, but mostly it was him nagging me endlessly.
[Charlo: Can't you be less impulsive?! I've realized something about you—you have absolutely no concept of planning before acting!]
[Charlo: It's been like this since the attack on Conquest City! Why did you attack there?! That exposed the fact that demons could use Charge Formations immediately! You should have gone West! There are no large fortresses in the West that require Charge Formations. You could have hidden that card as a trump against the Empire!]
[Charlo: If those incompetent nobles of Maurice hadn't accidentally helped you—their message speed was actually slower than your advance—Belaide Fortress wouldn't have let you pass so easily!]
Charlo rubbed his forehead, sighing deeply.
[Charlo: Forget it... We've come this far... What can I say? It truly is a case of 'Crouching Dragon meets Sleeping Phoenix'—two opponents evenly matched in their incompetence...]
[Clyris: What nonsense!] I puffed my cheeks, refusing to accept it. [Clyris: I had a plan beforehand! And what do you mean Maurice nobles helped me? Even if they notified the Belaide garrison, they couldn't have stopped me!]
[Charlo: Yes! Conquest City had three Ninth-Rankers and a Triple Defensive Array, and they couldn't stop you. Belaide only had one more Ninth-Ranker, so naturally, they couldn't stop you either. But what if they received advanced warning and reinforcements from the Magdeburg Line arrived south in time?]
Charlo looked at me calmly through the screen.
[Charlo: At that time, the Magdeburg Line had EIGHT Ninth-Rankers stationed there. Even if only half came, Belaide would have had eight Ninth-Rankers!]
[Charlo: Sure, you can fight eight alone. But how would the other seven Demon Grand Dukes, without a monster like you leading the charge, break through Belaide's Triple Defensive Array and escape?]
[Charlo: One Ninth-Rank Array can stop a charge of 5,000 knights led by a Ninth-Ranker! Three layers can easily stop 30,000 knights led by five Ninth-Rankers! Even Conquest City, damaged and unrepaired, required the Maurice Empire to assemble six Ninth-Rankers and 16,000 elite knights to breach! Against a pristine Belaide Array, how much strength would your few thousand demons and seven Dukes have left after breaking in? They'd likely collapse on the spot and be encircled by the Theban Army arriving next!]
[Clyris: Uh... it... probably wouldn't be that bad...] Hearing him put it that way, I wanted to refute, but after thinking carefully... I didn't know what to say. What do I do? He makes so much sense...
Finally, I could only whisper encouragement to myself and bury my head in the Mana Pool, blowing bubbles.
[Charlo: All in all, the fact that you haven't died from being this reckless... truly is a miracle of brute force! But you managed to smash open a path to survival. Now the Alliance has lost three Ninth-Rankers dead and five heavily wounded. Losing eight top-tier combatants at once has completely wiped out their advantage! The next phase is pure garbage time!] Charlo summarized.
[Clyris: So what should I do now? The firepower upgrades at Abbys Fortress are complete. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do?] I poked my head out and asked.
[Charlo: What to do? Heal yourself, obviously! What else can you do right now?] Charlo rolled his eyes through the screen. [Charlo: The Saints won't recover quickly. If you recover fast enough, you might find another chance to hit the Alliance hard. So, stop worrying about everything else! Fix your body!]
[Clyris: Oh!]
I buried my head again and silently blew bubbles.
This time, I really almost didn't make it back. The layout of the Alliance camps saved me; some Ninth-Rankers were farther away than others, meaning they couldn't arrive simultaneously, giving me a window to escape.
But even so, I had danced with the Reaper. My injuries were catastrophic.
I stayed submerged in the Mana Pool, exposing only half my head to talk to Charlo, for a reason—my body below the neck was practically destroyed. Out of some psychological need, I didn't want him to see my hideous, mangled form as it slowly knit itself back together.
After ending the call, I tried to lift my hand. Even this simple action was excruciatingly difficult.
Muscles felt like they were tearing. Bones were as soft as noodles.
Splash...
What broke the surface was a crimson, skeletal limb. The exposed muscles couldn't even fully cover the bone. The smooth, snow-white skin was gone, replaced by raw, regenerating flesh. It was ugly enough to make one sick, looking like a corpse half-eaten by a wild beast.
I let my hand drop back into the pure white water, hiding it from my sight.
"I really played it too risky this time..." I tilted my head back, sinking slowly. "But I had to do it. If anyone is to blame... it's me, for choosing to charge head-on from the start..."
Calmly reflecting on it, attacking Conquest City wasn't a good strategy. But back then, calm reflection was impossible.
Hatred had burned away my reason. Not trying to chew through the Magdeburg Line head-on was already a victory for the Demon Grand Dukes who desperately persuaded me otherwise.
Then I led a group of High-Rank demons and raided Conquest City. The defenders didn't even have time to activate all three layers of the Defensive Array; only one was active before I smashed through.
Thinking back, I had no rationality left. Otherwise, I would never have abandoned Gruen's main force to attack a fortress with just a few thousand troops.
It was only because I picked the declining, senile Maurice Empire that I succeeded in breaking the city, touching the Wall of Despair, and surviving until now.
If Maurice had been a functioning empire, I would have died at Conquest City like the Demon Lords before me.
"Ha... forget it. Since I survived, I will not die easily again!"
Closing my eyes, I swore an oath in my heart, then let my consciousness drift into slumber to heal my broken body...
____________________________
After the Battle of the Dragonspine Mountains, the war between the Demons and the Alliance fell into a lull. But in Ironwood Territory, the peace was shattered.
In the golden autumn, Ironwood's army of 30,000 split into two columns. Davis led one, and Charlo personally led the other, striking from the northwest and northeast.
With Charlo as Commander-in-Chief, they deployed 260 aircraft, hundreds of artillery pieces, and nearly a hundred tanks. It was a thunderous blitzkrieg.
The five Viscounts, who had already agreed to surrender, offered no resistance. Ironwood soldiers marched through unopposed, smoothly annexing the five territories.
But this blatant aggression finally enraged Border Count Ester.
Using the pretext of seeking justice for his vassals, Ester organized a punitive expedition. Without even a final ultimatum, he declared war directly.
Ester's Punitive Force numbered about 25,000 men.
But don't underestimate this number. This was an army composed entirely of Supernatural Knights. Even if most were Low-Rank, their combat power far exceeded the ragtag noble coalition of Balar, which was mostly comprised of mortal conscripts!
Theoretically, Ester was using maximum force. An all-supernatural army of 25,000 was strong enough to crush ten Viscounts. With the Count leading personally, one might think he was waging total war against another Count!
With this lineup, he didn't see how Charlo could win.
The result?
The moment the battle started, Ironwood delivered a crushing blow to the head.
Davis, leading three brigades (15,000 men), stopped the Count cold.
Formations of supernatural knights crumpled like paper before tanks, heavy machine guns, and artillery.
Especially when the Steel Beasts—the tanks—appeared, the shock was indescribable.
The Punitive Force was routed just as easily as the Balar nobles, then fell into Charlo's encirclement.
"Damn it! That brat... that damn Charlo!"
Count Ester threw his expensive alchemy pen onto the map, cursing hysterically. "How could he?! How can he?!"
After venting, Ester panted heavily, gradually calming down.
"Wait... his weapons..."
He recalled the devastating attacks his troops had suffered. They were identical to the reports from his brother Sparrow on the Demon Front! The only difference was the moving steel fortresses!
"Him?!"
Realization struck Ester like a lightning bolt. His pupils contracted violently.
"Haha! HAHAHA!! HAHAHAHA..." He couldn't help but laugh maniacally.
"Charlo, oh Charlo... You shouldn't have... You shouldn't have exposed yourself! Hahahaha... You are dead! No one can save you now! Hahaha..."
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