As the war began, the enemy nation—the Kingdom of Os—started cautiously, calculating each step carefully.
But soon, the fragile border defenses of the empire were effortlessly shattered.
The Grand Marshal of Os was stunned; he never expected it to be so easy.
He had thought it would be a brutal, all-consuming battle, but instead, it was a swift advance—pillaging, burning, and slaughtering.
The so-called noble-led citizen militias crumbled at the slightest touch: untrained, poorly armed, undisciplined, and hopeless.
They were pushed into battle solely because the noble armies forced them.
It was strange that they had any fighting capability at all.
On the battlefield, fleeing militias were either slaughtered by the nobles behind them or forced to keep fighting.
In the end, even the noble armies were not spared—surrender was not an option.
No mercy was given, just as expected.
This war had become a winner-takes-all fight; there was no room for the defeated to survive.
Wherever they passed, not a blade of grass remained.
The thunder of hooves, cries of killing, and pleas for mercy filled the land.
The Kingdom of Os had never anticipated such smooth success, so effortless it could be called unstoppable.
Obstacles were rare and insignificant, and they had prepared for the worst.
Surrender documents were already drafted; land concessions were ready to be handed over.
But now their plans were thrown into chaos—they could only march straight toward the empire’s capital, taking each step as it came, seeing how far they could push.
No matter how far, it already far exceeded their expectations.
Along the route, many nobles remained aloof, watching from the sidelines to preserve their strength.
They ignored all imperial orders, using all sorts of excuses to delay or simply pretended not to hear.
They just watched as other imperial nobles perished in battle and turned a blind eye to cries for help.
“It’s their lives, not mine,” they thought.
But in the end, these nobles would die too—after all, their fate was still tied to the empire.
The Kingdom of Os would show no mercy to these imperial nobles—no restraint, no morality.
Moreover, their own nobles were not magnanimous enough to share the spoils with foreign nobles.
At this moment, inside the imperial council chamber, the nobles and church members were like ants on a hot pan.
The core figures of the nobles and the church were gathered here, staring at the battle reports on the table.
The scene was unbearable to behold.
Not even fifty thousand pigs could be slaughtered in a single day, right?
But the facts were undeniable; they had no choice but to accept it.
“This is a revolt, no—it’s over. What’s going on? These people have no sense of martial honor.
Weren’t we supposed to spare the nobles?
Every knight under my command was wiped out, and all the soldiers I painstakingly trained are gone without a trace.”
These nobles appeared united, but in reality, they shared fortune in good times but shirked hardship.
They were divided in spirit, fighting their own battles, each nursing secret agendas.
They could never form a unified front.
Even in this situation, some nobles refused to give up and banged loudly on the table.
“We still have a chance! Even if the newly formed citizen militia is weak, we nobles still command many troops.
If we gather them together, we can definitely hold back the Os armies!”
“Hahaha, are you crazy? I already passed that order through the emperor to the other imperial nobles and explained the seriousness of the situation.
But one by one, they just watched from the sidelines, with no intention to help—not even a single troop.”
“Then what do you suggest? Just wait to die? Those stupid rural nobles think they can remain safe.
Once we die, they’re next.”
The nobles and church members kept complaining and blaming each other, even attacking each other.
Gone were the days of grace and courteous leisure—only ugliness remained.
Unexpectedly, a high-ranking noble hastily struck the table, trying to restore calm, but to no avail.
Only after shouting loudly did a faint sense of order return.
“Enough, enough. I’m joking, of course I want to go back.
Once I regain the Hero’s power, I’ll kill every woman who betrayed me—leave none alive.
Then I’ll deal with every noble who humiliated me before coming back to take Emilia.
We’ll live happily ever after.”
Even he couldn’t help but hum softly—it was perfect.
To Duke Olé, the man who suddenly changed his mind wasn’t much of a surprise; everything seemed planned.
He knew the man would never give up.
“Very well, Your Majesty, but before that, I hope to make a deal with you.
I know you’re thinking about what comes after reclaiming the Hero’s power—revenge, right?
Those women, those nobles—there’s no way you’d act like nothing happened.”
His tone was devilishly tempting, every word carefully chosen.
His eyes seemed to pierce the soul, speaking exactly what the other was thinking and guessing.
“You should also suspect that the nobles won’t just hand over the Hero’s power so easily.
To prevent your revenge, they have set up a forbidden technique to control you.
Once you accept the Hero’s power, you will become the empire’s war machine.”
Duke Olé’s voice trailed off.
“…Your Grace, your point is well taken. We’ve noted it.
Let’s not bring it up again next time, so we don’t waste everyone’s time.”
But Duke Olé gently applauded, offering no rebuttal.
Instead, he went along with the words and continued.
“Yes, you are right. If that were true, I would never have proposed this.
Now, I tell you all, the Hero does not need to be retrained.
He is still alive, and I know where he is.
I can bring him back to the empire, and I am confident.”
These words shocked many.
They had seen the Hero die with their own eyes—how could he still be alive?
Even if he was, would he be willing to return and help?
And if the Hero regained his power, could they still control him?
Countless doubts and calculations flickered through the council chamber, leaving only hushed whispers of secret schemes.
Seeing this, Duke Olé pressed his advantage, delivering an answer that pleased all the nobles with his charismatic speech.
Looking at the church members, he spoke meaningfully.
“I understand your concerns.
We can tamper with the Hero Ritual so the Hero will be under our control.
I trust the church has such means.
As for how to persuade the Hero to return, leave that to me.”
This answer perfectly suited the nobles’ desires: no cost, an easy way out of the crisis.
It was an implicit approval of Olé’s plan, though none realized it was merely a means for him to bring Emilia home—whether Hero or noble alike.
The free solution was the most expensive of all.
After all, only Emilia could ensure the empire’s survival.
Without her, neither you nor I can succeed—nothing more.