After finishing up on the battlefield, the Fenris cavalry resumed their march, leading the captured prisoners.
Their next task was to regroup with the kingdom's forces and decide their future course of action.
Erenes approached Ghislain and asked, "Was it really necessary to kill him immediately? We could've kept him alive to extract some information."
"He wouldn't have known much about the Salvation Church. Most of the vassals of the Duke Delphine simply follow orders from above."
"You seem to know them quite well."
"Well, I do know them fairly well."
Of course, that knowledge came from fighting them in his past life. Erenes simply assumed that Ghislain's insights came from being a noble of the kingdom.
Having spent much of her life trapped in the forest of barrier, she had little choice but to rely on Ghislain for such information.
As she spoke with Ghislain, Erenes glanced to the side.
She felt an intense gaze. Parniel was smiling at her.
When their eyes met, Erenes shook her head and looked away. It wasn't out of fear—she knew exactly what that fiery gaze meant.
'A battle-hungry saintess…'
Parniel, who had declared herself a saintess, seemed restless. It was clear that she wanted to challenge Erenes to a fight.
That fiery energy was undoubtedly a gift from the goddess of war who had chosen her.
'Sigh…'
Erenes stole another glance at Parniel and sighed.
The saint she had met a long time ago was different.
She had been someone who despised fighting, someone who loved all things, someone willing to sacrifice herself for the world—a truly noble soul.
'Enough.'
Erenes bit her lip and held her forehead.
She didn't want to think about it. It was a past long gone, and reminiscing wouldn't change anything.
As Erenes turned away and pretended not to notice, Parniel clicked her tongue.
She wanted to spar with Erenes, but as a saintess, she couldn't openly pick a fight.
Still, Erenes' aura was awe-inspiring.
'There are so many powerful people in this world.'
The high priests of the Salvation Church had been strong. But by her standards, they fell short.
However, after joining the northern forces under Ghislain, she had encountered numerous exceptional individuals.
Parniel scanned the surroundings like a predator searching for prey.
'That woman, Belinda, isn't ordinary either.'
Although her energy seemed weaker than Parniel's, her skills were breathtaking. Even Parniel admitted that if Belinda ambushed her, she'd suffer serious injuries before the fight even started.
Parniel had subtly tried to bring up the idea of a spar, but Belinda had waved it off with a mischievous grin.
"I'm not really into that sort of thing. I've got too much work to do. Hohoho."
Despite her words, Belinda looked like someone who would stab with a smile if the situation called for it.
Belinda wasn't the only one who intrigued Parniel. There was also someone named Gillian.
His aura was extraordinary. After observing him briefly, Parniel noticed his combat style was similar to her own.
Facing his aura head-on would make anyone's blood run cold.
He wasn't just about strength; his technique was equally impressive.
While fighting Belinda might be mentally taxing, a duel with Gillian promised to be exhilarating.
Yet, when Parniel had subtly suggested a match, Gillian had politely declined.
"You're stronger than I am, Saintess, so there's no need to spar."
Even if one side was stronger, battles were unpredictable.
But if the other person wasn't interested, what could she do? Parniel could only sigh in disappointment.
There was, however, one person who seemed eager to fight…
'Was his name Kaor?'
His skills seemed formidable, and his provocative gaze showed a clear appetite for battle. He resembled a warhound.
But there was one issue.
'He hasn't broken through the wall yet.'
If Kaor ever broke through that wall, he'd make an excellent opponent. His raw, untamed energy made that clear.
"Damn it! This is so frustrating! Why is it only me!"
With his frustrated face and foul-mouthed grumbling, Kaor looked every bit like a wild beast.
Parniel decided to set aside her fighting desires for now. She could challenge them all to duels once the war ended.
For now, she hoped strong opponents would emerge during their battles with the Salvation Church.
The life of a saintess chosen by the goddess of war was one of spreading her goddess's will through battle and finding ecstasy in combat.
Amid this subtle tension, the Fenris forces finally met up with the kingdom's army.
"Ghislain! My dear nephew!"
Maurice, who led the kingdom's forces and arrived belatedly, teared up with emotion.
The rebel forces of Delphine had been annihilated. Countless prisoners had been captured and absorbed into the kingdom's army.
It was a miracle that their numbers, which had been dwindling due to the war, were now replenished.
Buoyed by this, Maurice declared boldly, "Isn't this it? Aside from the forces guarding the south, haven't we wiped out everyone? Let's invade Delphine now! Let's chop off that Duke's head right away!"
Maurice spoke with all the grandeur befitting a commander-in-chief, but Ghislain shook his head.
"Now is the time to regroup and rest. Everyone is exhausted."
The kingdom's army and allied forces had fought non-stop, enduring heavy losses.
The northern forces had been busier than any other army, and the Fenris cavalry even more so.
After such relentless marching and fighting, rest was necessary. Overexertion was no strategy. To keep fighting, they needed time to recover.
Maurice knew this too but didn't want to miss the opportunity.
"I understand that, but the south is populous! Everyone knows how wealthy they are! If we give them time, they'll muster another army. We have to strike while their corps are all destroyed!"
Under normal circumstances, Maurice would have been correct. It was clear to anyone that now was the perfect time for a counterattack.
But Ghislain remained firm.
"The Duchy's strength isn't spent. The Salvation Church's priests are also gathering. We need to regroup and prepare for the next war."
"The next… war?"
"Yes. The Salvation Church's priests aren't all accounted for. The Duchy's forces are the same."
The Duchy's power wasn't to be underestimated. If they could be brought down this easily, they wouldn't have survived the overwhelming onslaught of the Mercenary King's forces in Ghislain's past life.
In truth, the Duchy could have toppled the kingdom long ago if they'd wanted.
'Now that I think about it, Count Forwood once said something to Marquis Branford.'
When Count Desmond attacked Fenris, the furious Marquis Branford had imprisoned Count Forwood, who handled the Duchy's diplomacy.
At that time, Count Forwood had said:
— It's not the royalist faction holding back the civil war; it's Viscount Josef. He's a rational man. We really wanted to shed as little blood as possible.
Raul had been suppressing the war. That's why the Duchy hadn't already swept through the kingdom.
Of course, back then, the Salvation Church's priests hadn't yet gathered, so the Duchy's power wasn't as overwhelming as it was now.
'The Duchy was saving their full strength for something other than civil war. Most likely the Forest of Demonic Beasts.'
But that had been their greatest miscalculation.
'I used that time to grow stronger, to build an army, and to rally people.'
Even with future knowledge, Ghislain didn't fully understand the Duchy's intentions. He could only speculate that the Forest of Demonic Beasts was involved.
He had only recently learned that they had shifted their plans to take over the kingdom after clashing with his mother long ago.
'As we keep fighting, the answers to my questions will reveal themselves.'
No matter the reason, Ghislain's firm opposition to a counterattack left Maurice sighing in disappointment.
"Really? It's a no?"
"Yes."
"I really want to go."
"If you do, you'll end up meeting the goddess first."
"....."
Maurice couldn't hide his regret.
There was no denying it—his nephew was exceptionally skilled at war. It was best to follow his lead.
The soldiers now revered Ghislain as a god of war, and for good reason—his army had never lost a battle.
It was clear that Ghislain had thought things through.
'If only that old crone were here, I'd ask her opinion.'
If the fortune-teller hag had given the go-ahead, Maurice would have used his authority as commander-in-chief to march south immediately.
But since she wasn't, he had no choice but to trust Ghislain.
"Fine… alright. Then let's regroup and reorganize for now."
There were far too many prisoners. They needed to be appropriately divided and properly managed to ensure they followed orders.
Suddenly, Maurice remembered something and asked, "By the way, what should we do about Countess Rayfold?"
The war wasn't entirely over. Things were merely entering a lull. Yet Amelia had seized four territories that didn't belong to her.
The dispossessed lords and other nobles were sure to cause an uproar.
"That matter's already settled, isn't it? Just push forward. If it gets tough, say I supported it."
"Ugh… fine."
War didn't end with victory in battle. It was followed by the aftermath—resolving disputes and managing the spoils of war.
Maurice would need to reassess the kingdom's forces and send troops to fortify the southern front.
The thought of dealing with bickering nobles and all the logistical headaches made Maurice' head hurt.
"Alright. Let's head to the capital. We can rest and reorganize there."
With that, the kingdom's army and the Fenris forces began moving toward the capital. The northern forces would also join them.
With all the Duchy's corps annihilated, the soldiers heading to the capital felt a rare sense of relief.
News of the Duchy army's destruction had already spread throughout the capital.
"Waaaaaah! The northern army is here!"
"Count Fenris has arrived!"
"We've won!"
The streets of Cardenia were packed with crowds as if they might burst.
The citizens, upon hearing of the victory, had flocked out to celebrate Ghislain with unbridled enthusiasm.
"May the goddess bless the Kingdom of Lutania!"
"Count Fenris, please look this way!"
"The kingdom's protector!"
The cheers weren't directed solely at Ghislain. The people knew that it wasn't just one person who had fought to protect the kingdom—it had been a collective effort.
"Everyone fought so well!"
"Glory to the Kingdom's Army! Glory to the Northern Army!"
"The allied forces helped us too!"
The Kingdom's Army was too large for everyone to enter the capital, so most of them remained outside while only a portion of the troops entered. Those lucky few were honored with the cheers of the people.
Though it was true that the Northern Army had done most of the work, the Kingdom's Army had contributed significantly.
Knights and even the ordinary soldiers walked with flushed faces, their backs straight and shoulders squared. Their steps were firmer, more confident.
It had been an arduous battle. The southern front had been decimated, and countless lives were lost.
Yet, they had never given up. They had built defensive lines and fought with all their might.
Thanks to their efforts, the capital was not overrun before Ghislain and the Northern Army could intervene.
To have their efforts recognized by the people was deeply moving.
Sniffle.
"Don't cry, you idiot."
"Stand tall."
One by one, the soldiers began to tear up. It felt as if all their past struggles were melting away.
Recognition for one's efforts—it was a powerful thing.
Standing tall atop his black steed, Ghislain smiled as he watched.
In his previous life, he had received countless cheers like this. Yet, no matter how loud they were, his heart had always felt empty.
'It's different this time.'
Though it didn't quite match the emotion he felt when he first defended Perdium, his chest swelled with pride.
This victory symbolized more than just defeating an enemy. It meant holding back the Duchy and the Salvation Church behind them.
While the war wasn't over, Ghislain allowed himself a brief moment to bask in the satisfaction.
"Ahem, ahem."
Maurice, who was standing nearby, felt a twinge of jealousy. Ghislain was receiving far more cheers than him, the Kingdom Army's commander-in-chief.
He couldn't deny it, though. Ghislain had essentially fought the war on his own.
'What a remarkable kid.'
When he had first met Ghislain, Maurice hadn't liked him. Back then, Ghislain had seemed like an arrogant brat, flaunting the favor of Marquis Branford.
'But now, look at him.'
Ghislain was practically a treasure to the kingdom. Without him, every royalist noble would have been wiped out.
Maurice quickly cast aside his fleeting jealousy and joined in the celebration with a broad grin.
Hadn't he also supported Ghislain, granting him authority and resources akin to Marquis Branford?
'So, part of this is my doing.'
Thinking this made Maurice feel better. He resolved to boast about it endlessly to other nobles for years to come.
In front of the royal palace, Marquis Branford and numerous high-ranking nobles were waiting.
Marquis Branford beamed as he watched Ghislain approach confidently.
'The heavens have blessed us.'
Ghislain had come to him first. While he had initially seemed opportunistic, seeking to exploit Branford for personal gain, that had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
Even when others opposed it, Branford had placed his trust in Ghislain and supported him. And now, that trust was being repaid in full.
'The greatest investment of my life.'
The war wasn't over yet. But with this momentum, Branford felt confident in victory.
The Duchy had already lost over 200,000 soldiers. How much longer could they hold out?
Unaware of the true strength of the Duchy and the Salvation Church, Branford could only think this way.
"Welcome back. You've done well."
Ghislain dismounted and gave a slight bow.
"It's been a while, Marquis. Have you been well?"
"Thanks to you, I've been doing well. I had many concerns at first, but I never imagined the Northern Army could achieve so much."
Marquis Branford allowed his delight to show openly. Usually cold and reserved, even he couldn't maintain his composure in this moment of triumph.
"Come inside. A victory banquet has been prepared, and there's much I want to hear from you."
Before the other nobles could approach Ghislain, Marquis Branford took him by the arm and led him inside.
But Ghislain had other priorities.
"Please, may I have a moment of your time first?"
"What now?"
Marquis Branford hesitated slightly, leaning back. Whenever Ghislain started a conversation this way, it usually meant he was about to ask for something.
Seeing this, Ghislain narrowed his eyes in exasperation. He could practically see what Branford was thinking.
What kind of person does he take me for?
"It's not about taking anything… I simply have a few questions to ask."
"Hmm, alright."
The gathered nobles could wait a bit longer. After all, Branford also had matters to discuss with those who had participated in the war, like Maurice and others.
Marquis Branford and Ghislain moved to the royal office.
"Alright, what is it you want to know?"
Ghislain took a moment to gather his thoughts. After some deliberation, he decided to get straight to the point.
"I want to know about the Shadow Knights."
At the mention of that name, Marquis Branford's expression hardened.
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]