Chapter 42

Some time later, in the conference room of the Saxon duchy.

Receiving reports on the unfolding battle situation from unseen sources, the Duke of Saxony gazed at the table.

A vast mountain range stood between the Demon King’s Domain and the Duchy of Saxony. Furthermore, layered fortifications densely packed along the mountain passes formed a deep defense line.

Mountain fortresses where the Ranger unit ‘Winter Watch’ was stationed.

And even if they break through the mountain fortress after fierce combat and cross the mountain range… the fortresses built within the duke’s domain, spaced several kilometers apart, block strategic strongholds like river crossing points and transportation hubs.

“Reports indicate the northern lords who marched out earlier and the Winter’s Watch garrison have begun retreating from the Ninth Mountain Fortress.”

“Before retreating, they burned all supplies they couldn’t transport.”

“It seems the time has come to deploy the field army.”

Lord Helmut pointed at the map as he spoke.

Some of the lords and troops summoned by the Duke of Saxony have already joined the fortress garrison, and fierce fighting continues even now.

Yet the reason the great lord, the Black Count, remained silent was singular.

Through relentless defensive tactics and scorched-earth strategies, he steadily eroded the enemy’s offensive momentum and stamina. This was to prepare for the decisive strike: when his main force, possessing formidable striking power, reached the final position to annihilate the enemy.

Defense in depth.

Waiting until the very last moment, then annihilating the enemy with a decisive blow. And finally, the moment to pull the trigger was approaching.

“We will halt the enemy’s main force from crossing the upper reaches of the Saxon River and annihilate them.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

In that regard, the upper reaches of the Saxon River were like an unyielding Maginot Line. Once the enemy crossed the river and scattered to plunder the entire duchy, the damage would become uncontrollable.

“Inform the lords to prepare for campaign.”

Just as we once halted a thousand orcs there, though this time the scale would be incomparable.

In the Duke of Saxony’s office, ahead of the impending campaign.

“Separate from the main force, I entrust you with a mobile strike force of three hundred Night Raven Knights.”

There, the Duke of Saxony bestowed a weighty responsibility upon the ‘Black Prince’. As a detachment operating separately from the main force, he was effectively entrusted with an independent command structure.

“Additionally, Lord Sepia has decided to serve as your aide.”

“……!”

Sepia, the 6th Circle elf mage. Taken aback by the unexpected words, Dale gasped.

“But the Blue Tower’s policy is to not intervene in mortal conflicts…”

“She is already our Saxon family’s ‘Chief Advisor’.”

The Black Mage continued calmly.

“Moreover, it would be difficult to view the act of defending humanity’s territory against the demon race as a ‘worldly dispute.'”

“Is that the will of Master Sepia?”

Dale asked, and the Duke of Saxony nodded.

“Once large-scale clashes erupt on both fronts, you alone will decide when to move your forces.”

This decision was possible only because of the overwhelming victory of the ‘Black and White Rotation’ and the faith placed in Dale’s strategic plan.

“Trust me, Father.”

Therefore, Dale did not hesitate either. Living up to that trust was something he was accustomed to.

“One last thing I’d like to ask of you.”

“Speak.”

Nodding, Dale opened his mouth. Recalling the girl who wielded the Saxon House’s Black Sword with more skill than anyone else.

“Please assign the young Divine Sword… to the unit I command.”

There was a girl clad head to toe in black armor.

Like Dale’s once had been, it was the Night Raven Knight’s armor, custom-fitted to Charlotte’s frame. Yet in her hands was not a rapier, but the Saxon House’s two-handed greatsword.

“Truly dependable.”

“Well, he is the knight who guards the ‘Black Prince’ himself.”

At Charlotte’s words, Dale smiled quietly. His face, hidden beneath a black helmet, remained unseen. After all, it was necessary to avoid revealing her true identity.

But Charlotte was no longer a girl who needed to be protected one-sidedly.

The young prodigy growing under the Saxon family’s protection is not just Dale. Having endured dozens of brutal real combat experiences alongside his mentor, Sir Helmut, he has achieved a level of skill at a young age that would not be out of place alongside the Saxon family’s ‘Oru Knights’.

A prodigy of the sword, wielding the Saxon family’s greatsword—larger than her own frame—with effortless mastery, powered by the force of aura.

At least in the realm of the sword, her talent surpassed even Dale’s.

The Saxon family’s black sword, stained as dark as ink, stands as proof.

Jet-black aura blade.

A form of aura existing solely to serve the Saxon family, whether in life or in death.

“…Let’s make one promise.”

Dale opened his mouth, looking at her.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t die.”

“……What?”

But at those words, Charlotte tilted her head in confusion for a moment.

“Shouldn’t I risk my life for my lord…?”

“Is that a knight’s duty?”

Dale cut her off.

“Shall I teach you a knight’s true duty?”

After cutting her off, Dale asked. Charlotte waited silently for his answer.

“It’s not betraying your lord’s trust.”

Dale said.

“And I don’t want you to die.”

In a voice without the slightest hesitation.

“This isn’t the battlefield where you’ll die.”

Charlotte swallowed hard for a moment. But her agitation didn’t last long.

“Yes.”

And so, as a knight loyal to her lord, Charlotte quietly knelt before Dale. She thrust the Black Sword of House Saxon vertically into the ground.

She thought it truly fortunate that her expression, hidden beneath her helmet, remained concealed.

The main force led by the Duke of Saxony began its march to confront the Orc warlords advancing south.

The demon race—a twisted species that cannot endure the harsh environment of the Demon Realm, struggling repeatedly just to survive. They possess no grand, wicked cause to stain the world with evil.

‘That’s precisely why they’re such a headache.’

Though not on the unprecedented scale led by the being once called the ‘Demon King’ in the past, large-scale migrations of demons, still impossible to ignore, occurred frequently thereafter.

Each time, the Duke of Saxony summoned the northern lords, yet at the decisive moment, he employed the ‘power of black magic’ to minimize casualties.

As an eighth-circle black mage standing at the pinnacle of the Black Magic Tower.

And the fact that the ‘Black Knight’ himself had personally led his main force into battle meant only one thing. Even though he had entrusted Dale with the crucial role of the mobile strike force, it was tantamount to deciding this battle with his own hands.

By wielding the power of the man the Empire feared most.

Upper Saxon River.

A point nearly several kilometers away from the main force’s position commanded by the ‘Duke of Saxony’.

That was precisely where Dale and the mobile strike force, composed of three hundred Night Raven Knights, had taken up position.

As usual, alongside Dale were Lord Baskerville of Vale, his escort knight Charlotte, and Sepia, the Sixth Circle elf mage.

But at least here, Sepia was not Dale’s ‘teacher’. She was accompanying him solely as his second-in-command, following his orders.

And that dawn, at the camp of Dale’s mobile strike force.

Though night was deep, the elf mage Sepia could not sleep. She simply stepped out of the tent and walked aimlessly. Gazing at the stars embroidering the night sky.

She became the teacher of the child with the greatest talent on the continent, and before she knew it, she had been reborn as a member of the duke’s household, surrendering herself to the waves of the secular world. It was a decision made solely to guide Dale correctly, and she believed that was her mission.

“Lady Sepia.”

And when Dale, who likewise could not sleep, called out Sepia’s name from there.

“Dale.”

Sepia realized she no longer treated Dale as merely the ‘object of her mission’.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Why did you accept Father’s proposal?”

Dale asked in return.

“I am merely fulfilling my mission.”

Sepia replied.

This child possesses a talent surpassing anything he himself had ever experienced, yet it was also dangerously potent. That was precisely why, as Dale’s mentor, he wanted to guide this child correctly.

That was Sepia’s mission.

After regaining her senses, she realized that this child’s world was already filled with bitter cold and loneliness.

A world of thought filled with endless emptiness and the horizon of nothingness. And that world was yearning for her.

Alone and lonely in a solitude that chilled her very bones.

That fact was so pitiful and endearing I couldn’t bear it. The realization of this child’s emptiness, and furthermore, the fact that only she could fill that void.

“…Didn’t I promise to stay by your side?”

“Thank you.”

Sepia flushed as she replied. Seeing her like that, Dale smiled softly.

The night sky was incredibly dark and pitch black.

The first battle began sooner than expected.

Ahead of the main force’s river crossing at the rapids, a small Orc unit attempted to ford the river nearly ten kilometers upstream.

When numbers are small, it is not difficult to ferry a small force across the river using rafts or temporary pontoon bridges. And it was the ‘Mobile Strike Force’ led by Dale that accurately intercepted this small Orc unit.

“Charge!”

Entrusting command of the four cavalry battalions, each fifty strong, to ‘Barking’s Veil’, Dale personally commanded two cavalry battalions left as the rearguard to prepare for any unforeseen circumstances.

However, the enemy had crossed the river after a forced march of over ten kilometers, and there were no follow-up units to assist them.

A cavalry charge plunged into the isolated small groups of Orc infantry. It was a literal massacre.

After that, several more small-scale crossings by Orcs followed, intended to disrupt the enemy, and it fell to Dale’s mobile strike force to intercept them.

Shortly thereafter. Realizing the disruptions were ineffective, a force of thousands of Orcs launched a full-scale breakthrough at the main crossing point defended by the Duke of Saxony’s main force.

Under the command of the ‘Orc Warboss’, an assault force composed of the strongest and most savage elite warriors from among the tribes.

Mounting the giant wolf that makes the northern warhorses look like ponies.

“Gaaaah!”

The bloodcurdling howls of the orc riders and wolves echoed, as if tearing the heavens apart. At last, the curtain rose on the battle.

Then, just as the two fronts clashed and fierce fighting began… Dale’s three hundred cavalry had just completed their crossing to the northern shore, where the orcs’ main force was positioned.

Obsessed with their forced breakthrough, they charged toward the exposed rear of the enemy unit.

But they failed to realize the ambush waiting there.