Chapter 146

Chapter 146: Reinforcements, Arrive. (1)

Hardin, his entire body drenched in blood and sweat, stared straight ahead with a suspicious look in his eyes.

‘…Huh, what?’

A group of troops was charging in from afar, their flags fluttering in the wind.

Roughly a hundred soldiers, and just over twenty knights.

That number meant they had brought nearly all of their forces...

‘Did I… request reinforcements?’

He was sure he hadn’t. So why the hell were they here?

And what about the Eastern Front…?

While Hardin blinked rapidly, full of questions—

“Chargeee!”

Princess Medeia’s forces launched a surprise attack on the Tread troops positioned at the rear of the defensive line.

Shhhhk!

“Aaargh!”

“Gah!”

Every time they swung their swords, the Tread soldiers collapsed, vomiting crimson like fallen autumn leaves.

Especially whenever Medeia or Lieutenant Benjamin struck—

“Benjamin, to the right.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Shhhhk!

“Gahack!”

“B-Block them!”

It was as if a path had opened through the enemy lines.

Through that opening, the princess's knights and soldiers poured in, quickly tearing through the formation.

‘T-They're strong!’

‘This is insane… They broke through in one strike!’

Panic and terror spread across the faces of the Tread soldiers.

Though few in number, every one of them was an elite—battle-hardened warriors from the Eastern Front, who had fought the Barbarians daily.

The already exhausted Tread forces, worn down from fierce combat, had no means to resist.

And on top of that…

“Rear! Block the rear!”

“But they’re coming from the front too!”

Daphne’s forces were in the front.

Medeia’s troops were in the back.

The realization that they were surrounded caused confusion to erupt, their movements clashing and direction scattering.

“Kiieeeek!”

“Damn it! Someone get rid of that damn chicken-head!”

To make matters worse, the Cockatrice was now rampaging in the middle of it all, making the situation utterly hopeless.

Amidst the chaos—

Clang!

“Gah!”

Former Commander Mulgybson deflected an enemy’s blade, then quickly turned his head and shouted toward Cobalt.

“Lord, weren’t we told there would be no reinforcements?”

“I’m not sure either! Malion, have you heard anything?”

Malion adjusted his glasses, furrowing his brow deeply.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Obvious? What do you mean?”

“That damn brother of mine must’ve lied to us again! I swear, what is wrong with him!”

Cobalt’s eyes widened in shock.

‘Hardin lied? But why, all of a sudden?’

Was it to make them fight with everything they had? Or was there some other reason?

As Cobalt stood there, confused and deep in thought, Mulgybson shouted urgently.

“Lord, this is no time to space out! Give the order!”

“…Right.”

Finally snapping back to his senses, Cobalt let out a deep breath, raised his sword high, and shouted with vigor.

“Charge! Aid the Princess and annihilate the enemy!”

“Uoooooh! Chaaaarge!”

Daphne’s momentum grew even fiercer.

As if none of them intended to let this opportunity slip by, they clenched their teeth and swung spears, bows, and swords with all their might.

“Aaaargh!”

“D-Don’t let them push us back!”

Tread’s troops continued to fall.

Anyone could see the tide of battle had turned.

Right in the middle of the battlefield—

“Commander Pattinson!”

“O-Orders, sir!”

Gilton and Bohim, who were each engaged in combat with Manton and Beryl respectively, shouted urgently toward Commander Pattinson, their expressions flustered.

“Damn it! Shut up!”

But Pattinson only snapped irritably, unable to come up with any clever solution.

What’s more—

“This isn’t the time to be distracted!”

“An opening!”

Even as he struggled, Beryl and Manton pressed their assault, giving Gilton and Bohim no room to think of anything else.

‘Damn it, what the hell is going on? Reinforcements—why now, of all times…?’

Clang! Clang! Clang!

All Pattinson could do now was glare at Hardin with hatred and lash out even harder with his spear.

But the more frantically he attacked, the more anxiety spread across his face, his strikes began to falter, and his footwork lost balance.

In contrast—

“What’s wrong? Getting nervous now, are we?”

Clang! Clang!

Hardin pressed in with a mocking smile.

As the clash continued—

“Gasp!”

Whoooosh!

Pattinson’s spear sliced through the air, and Hardin slipped into the opening and thrust his own spear forward.

Slaaash!

The spearhead grazed across Pattinson’s shoulder, scattering droplets of blood.

Pattinson’s eyes widened as he hastily retreated—just then.

“C-Commander! Look out!”

A knight’s voice rang out right beside him.

‘Killing intent!’

Pattinson instinctively ducked and hurled his body to the side.

Then—

Whoooosh!

Right where he’d been standing, a bastard sword cut through the air in a blue arc.

Had he been even a second slower, he would have been beheaded on the spot.

As Pattinson reflexively turned toward the direction the attack had come from—

‘That one…’

He saw a silver-haired woman approaching Hardin from the opposite side, wielding a bastard sword in both hands.

“Oh my, Your Highness. You must be busy—why did you come? You really didn’t need to.”

The cold, feline-faced woman stood beside Hardin, holding a bastard sword.

A genius of the sword, and the princess who recently applied to Fabione and heavily invested in the Daphne Viscounty—Princess Medeia.

She gave Hardin a sidelong glance and replied.

“Doesn’t look like a situation where you can afford to act tough.”

“Ah, no, just a little misunderstanding. If I had a bit more time, I could’ve handled them all. Ha!”

Hardin, covered in blood, scratched his head with one hand, pretending to joke.

At that, Commander Pattinson trembled and said—

“What brings you here, Princess Medeia?”

“You must be… Commander Pattinson, the one they call the strongest in Luden Shire?”

As Medeia casually adjusted her grip on her sword, Pattinson's brows furrowed instinctively.

“I’m honored that Your Highness is familiar with my humble reputation, but I must ask—why are you pointing your blade at us here?”

“Is it so strange that I want to protect the port I heavily invested in with my own hands?”

Pattinson forced his twisted expression into check and continued.

“Not at all. However, I had heard you were on the Eastern Front under imperial orders.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about me. Almost as if… someone informed you.”

At her response, Pattinson clenched his teeth.

‘So… she knows everything?’

Had they figured out everything we were preparing from the start? Just how far back had these people been planning this battle?

If coincidences kept piling up, they weren’t coincidences—they were inevitabilities.

He felt like a puppet dancing in the palm of Daphne’s hand.

Pattinson’s mind tangled into knots.

At that moment, Medeia glanced sideways at Hardin and spoke.

“Hardin Daphne.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll handle things here.”

“Suddenly?”

“You have… something else to do, don’t you?”

When Medeia gestured with her chin, a crease formed between Hardin’s brows.

Because a face had come to mind.

A pale face with small eyes, dressed in a red uniform—an arrogant bastard.

‘Count Vernian…’

To put an end to this war, capturing that man was the top priority.

And that man was likely…

‘Out there.’

Hardin’s gaze naturally turned toward the front of the defensive line.

He let out a long breath through his nose and jokingly said to Medeia:

“You’ll be fine without me, right?”

“Enough nonsense. Get moving.”

Man, this woman really didn’t get jokes…

Hardin shrugged and said:

“Alright then, I’ll leave it to you.”

Swoosh.

Hardin lowered his stance.

Dash!

With a powerful kick off the ground, he leapt forward like a spring uncoiling.

Then—

“Where do you think you’re going!”

Commander Pattinson lunged, thrusting his spear at Hardin.

But—

Claang!

“Your opponent is me.”

Sparks burst from the blocked spear as Princess Medeia stepped in front of him and met his gaze with a cold voice.

“Damn it! Get out of my way!”

“Show me, then. Just how impressive the so-called strongest of Luden Shire really is.”

“This isn’t the time for—!”

Clang! Clang!

Medeia continued to block his path, deflecting his attacks.

Her sword met his strikes as if she knew his patterns by heart, and Pattinson’s face stiffened.

‘She’s strong.’

At the very least… 3-star Master level.

Clang! Clang!

He’d heard she had talent with the sword, but each time Medeia raised her blade, the weight behind it, the speed, the fluidity—everything far exceeded Pattinson’s expectations, making it hard for him to even catch his breath.

Her attacks were rough yet without hesitation, always a half-beat faster than her opponent’s awareness.

Pattinson’s eyes darted past Medeia’s shoulder to Hardin, who was sprinting ahead.

‘He won’t make it through on his own.’

Scowling deeply, he shouted irritably.

“Gilton! Bohim! Go after the Lord! Stop that bastard!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Understood!”

The two unit commanders immediately turned and dashed in the opposite direction.

“Damn it! We lost them!”

“What the hell are you doing, man?!”

Realizing they’d let them escape, Beryl and Manton quickly gave chase.

Whoooosh!

“Gasp!”

“W-What the—?!”

Suddenly, a middle-aged man cut in front of the two unit commanders, blocking their path.

“Haha, I’m Benjamin, Princess Medeia’s lieutenant. I’m afraid you’ll have to entertain me for a bit.”

“Out of the way!”

“Damn you!”

Clang! Clang!

Benjamin clashed blades with the two of them, halting their advance.

“Lieutenant Benjamin!”

“Oh, Beryl! Long time no see. Have you been well?”

“We’ll assist you!”

Manton and Beryl joined forces, pushing back the two unit commanders.

Meanwhile—

Tap tap tap!

‘Keep your neck nice and ready.’

A grin played across Hardin’s face as he burst through the encirclement and charged forward with unrelenting speed.

---

Clang! Clang!

“Aaaargh!”

Screams pierced through the rising smoke, and the stench of blood thickened near the Mudside trade port.

“Lord, we must hurry.”

“……”

Count Vernian, along with half a dozen escort knights, was fleeing along the nearby coast.

All the ships they’d come on had run aground, and with no horses or carriages in sight, their only option was to get out of Daphne’s territory as quickly as possible.

‘Once we’re out of the territory, we’ll find horses!’

‘Retreat first, that’s the priority.’

The escort knights looked like they had lost their souls.

The battle at Mudside had been expected to be a decisive victory for Tread. Instead, it turned into an even match against Daphne, and ever since the reinforcements arrived, it had spiraled into a catastrophic defeat.

It was a situation beyond anything they could have imagined.

Of course, the one most shaken was someone else entirely.

“D-Damn it…!”

Count Vernian, surrounded by his escort knights, looked as if his face was about to burst, flushed red with rage.

A cold gleam shot from his eyes, and his entire body trembled with fury.

‘What kind of disgrace is this, losing to those lowly Daphnes?!’

Since the moment he had taken the position of lord—no, even during the process of becoming one—Count Vernian had never failed to get what he wanted.

And now, here he was, tripped up by something he had never anticipated. It was no wonder rage boiled within him.

Perhaps because of that—

‘Damn it, I can’t breathe…’

‘This killing intent is suffocating…’

The murderous aura and sheer pressure radiating from Vernian left the escort knights breathless. Yet none dared open their mouths.

They knew, instinctively and with certainty—

Anyone who so much as touched the Count in that state would be engulfed by the flames of his wrath.

How far had they run?

One of the escort knights pointed ahead and shouted.

“A bridge!”

Swaaash!

Seawater flowed inland and merged into a wide river. There, stretched over it, was a long wooden bridge.

‘We’re saved!’

‘If we destroy the bridge, we can stop the pursuit!’

Clinging to that sliver of hope, they all picked up speed.

But just then—

Whoooosh!

A sound tore through the air.

“Get down!”

At the shout from behind, they instinctively threw themselves to the side.

In that tension that made time feel as though it slowed, they rolled their eyes skyward—where they saw a streak of blue flying through the air.

‘A… spear?’

‘That’s…!’

A black spear forged from obsidian and steel—it could only be the weapon of Commander Pattinson.

Just as the knights realized what it was, the spear continued soaring through the air—

BOOOOOOM!

It slammed down on the bridge and exploded in a massive blast.

CRASH!

Shattered wood scattered everywhere, barely holding on for a moment before being swept away by the current.

“T-The bridge…”

A look of dismay spread across the knights’ faces as they turned toward the direction from which the spear had come.

“Whew… Coming in is easy, but leaving’s another story.”

Standing there, holding a longsword and wearing a grin, was the blond young man—Hardin Daphne.

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