30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue
chapter-221

Chapter: 221

As many who know him now agree, Ivan is a rational and logical individual who does not discriminate much between types of weaponry.

During operations, the loss of weaponry is like a tax for operatives, and a great operative should be able to handle any weaponry they capture at above-average levels.

However, it cannot be easily empathized with by others, but he also has his preferences.

He preferred firearms, especially handguns.

“Why?”

Once, Cherenovika had asked a question like that. The context before and after is now vague, but it was roughly like this.

This was a time when he was forced to operate near a beheading unit, not dealing with legions or ordinary troops.

At this level, both monsters and demonkind have developed detection of danger. For those at the commander level, it is because they are the strongest entities of their respective legions, due to the ecological logic of demonkind applying power.

When facing such beings, firearms quickly lose their utility. No, they should not be fired at all. The sound of gunfire attracts the attention of monsters. Basically, demonkind do not use firearms, so the sound of a gun is like an alarm to announce an invader.

“Um.”

“You’re dodging the question again.”

“Um.”

At this time, Kim Sunwoo often teased Cherenovika on purpose just to see her frustrated expression. And rather than that, it would be more accurate to say he didn’t know how to express his fondness verbally.

Since she knew this fact as well, she playfully laughed and took the lead in the conversation.

He liked it, so even in this damned medieval era, with their good relationship, Kim Sunwoo deliberately hardened his expression and nodded silently.

“I’ll guess. You’re trying to look cool! You always do this. Colonel. Hmm… Bang! And who’s going to ask now? Ahem! What do you feel when you kill an enemy, Colonel?”

Cherenovika began her playful interview with a mischievous expression. Soon she opened her eyes wide in a sharp manner and mimicked Kim Sunwoo’s voice. The tone was so similar that he almost burst out laughing.

“Recoil.”

“Ahem.”

“Oh, you laughed. You laughed! Right? See? Sasha, pay up. I told you I could make him laugh.”

“Ah, that’s a bet you forced me into, ma’am. I thought I would lose. It’s particularly easy for the Colonel to laugh at you.”

Kim Sunwoo quickly hardened his face and would have answered that he had not laughed. Then Sasha would enthusiastically agree, and Cherenovika would giggle and take Sasha’s wallet.

As the sun set, they took turns standing guard, celebrating that no one had died that day.

There were such days.

“Uncle? What are you thinking about?”

“Um?”

Ivan briefly scanned his surroundings with hazy eyes. He saw the brilliant scenery of the training facility. The faces of his comrades were different from back then.

Ah, that’s right. It was the question of why he used firearms as his primary weapon.

“When I first went to the battlefield, it was out of fear.”

“You, uncle?”

“Everyone should fear death.”

Ivan answered seriously while looking at Ecdysis. Those who do not fear death easily disappear. Fear is the last bastion of ensuring survival. Humans must always live with at least a minimum level of fear.

“At that time, I was a boy soldier who couldn’t even catch an orc. But if I had the strength to pull the trigger, then the gun would definitely pierce an orc’s head.”

“Then what about superhumans? Enemies with danger detection, or heavy armored vanguards charging at you?”

“If you meet those kinds of people, you have to die.”

From the perspective of conscripts, superhumans and heavy infantry are no different than grim reapers. They are elite units that one might not ordinarily encounter on the front lines, and if faced with them, whether holding a gun or a sword, one dies equally.

“Fire at will. Target number three.”

“Yes!”

Ecdysis answered vividly and immediately picked up the handgun. After correcting her grip and stance once, the bullet soon pierced the target.

Basically, from the moment one becomes a superhuman, posture control happens instinctively. If there’s correct posture and a decent level of skill, any well-made firearm will surely yield the same results.

“Even after some time, firearms were useful. There’s no need to swing a sword; you can wipe out distant enemies and often strike first. Next, shoot.”

Facing superhumans directly on the battlefield is quite rare. Thus, as long as most enemies are ordinary people, firearms are still superior to swords.

Bang!

After hearing Ecdysis’s gunfire and checking the target, Ivan continued speaking.

“After that, it became even more useful. By observing the reaction of the opponent upon hearing gunfire, you can distinguish whether they are superhumans or ordinary people. Once you’ve identified the enemy and acted, there are few weapons that are as useful as firearms for a surprise attack.”

Ivan nodded as he saw that Ecdysis’s shots were all grouped within the target’s center. 50m live fire. It isn’t much, but it would be helpful for mastering posture.

At that moment, he sensed a presence behind him.

Clap, clap, clap.

Someone was approaching, applauding. The heavy footsteps and stride suggested it was an armed adult male.

“Excellent speech.”

When Ivan turned around, a man who had been clapping approached with a sly smile. A lean figure that stood a hand taller than Ivan looked down at him.

“Are you the hero of our time?”

“The hero is in the kitchen.”

“…?”

The man frowned slightly but soon smiled slyly again.

“The self-proclaimed hero lacks talent for jokes.”

“That’s a misunderstanding.”

“…Is this your mistress?”

“That’s a ridiculous misunderstanding.”

“Uncle!!”

The man had no choice but to be somewhat flustered at this point. He couldn’t tell if he was provoking or being provoked. Soon, he frowned and said.

“I thought you were trying to teach your toy seriously, but it seems you were enjoying a date instead. You’re being rather casual occupying the royal knight’s training facility.”

“There are plenty of seats next to me.”

“Unlike that toy, we use ‘real’ weapons. You see, if the hero gets hurt, it affects morale.”

“Hmm.”

Ivan quietly nodded while looking at the man.

Essentially, knights are combat personnel and also field commanders. It is only natural that they wouldn’t want to relinquish command to visitors from outside. In this case, it seems to be a form of preemptive deterrence.

If that is the case, then it’s best not to respond. If he were to actually bring this man down, it could damage the knights’ morale. Since knights are elite troops, ignoring them would be the best course of action in preparation for future battles.

Above all, he was worried about what might be happening in the kitchen. Since he hadn’t taught her the recipe, Isabelle might be making some strange risotto or soup.

“Train well. Ecdysis, go.”

“Stop.”

Just as Ivan was about to leave, the man drew his sword, blocking his path. He glared down at Ivan and growled.

“Are you really a man? I don’t care to discuss honor with someone who isn’t a knight, but at least if you are a man, you should have some spirit!”

The man glared at Ivan, who had halted, then got a handgun from a corner of the training facility.

“Using such a toy to show off to a mistress?”

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

He fired rapidly without even aiming. However, with near-perfect recoil control, the target he aimed at had a perfectly round grouping right in the center.

He grinned bitterly as he looked at Ecdysis’s target, where she had only hit four out of five shots.

“Not even a weapon that requires training, and yet you’re occupying the knight’s facility and idling around? A hero, at a time of impending war?”

Ivan sighed as he watched the man grind his teeth. Yes, he knew this scene.

During wartime, hero parties were not welcomed by the knight class.

Basically, the hero’s tactics relied heavily on decapitation operations. While friendly legions held the attention of enemies, it referred to the operation of infiltrating and assassinating the enemy’s leader.

This naturally forced tactics that inflicted damage on the knight class. The longer the time maintaining the front line, the higher the hero’s chances of success. They had to collapse on a battlefield where they couldn’t escape even if they knew they were going to die.

Therefore, knights could not tolerate heroes entering their encampments. Their hatred was born not from ugly jealousy but from ‘injustice.’

I have lived my entire life leaning on my sword.

I have lived without shame before my honor, dedicating my life solely to it!

But you, hero. You have pushed us all into hell in pursuit of hope, while the world only reveres you.

So come, as a knight of Tylesse, I will stand proud before my sword today.

Knights who had spent their lives mastering martial arts could never tolerate a hero who suddenly appeared and pushed them into a corner. It was injustice. Their resentment was justified in a situation where all of their lives were being denied.

But the hero answered all the challenges with a single line.

“If you beat me, you can take my place.”

“…What?”

“It’s only natural for someone better to take on the responsibility. It is the duty of the stronger.”

“How dare—!!”

Furious at Ivan’s words, the knight rushed at him in one go. Stopping at a distance where the blade was nearly touching, the knight glared at him, breathing heavily.

“Are you saying you don’t know the value of honor gained in an instant? You think it’s a cheap responsibility you can toss aside in anger?”

“Are we going to continue this conversation?”

“Insufferable—!!”

The knight swung down, thrusting the sword forward without hesitation. Beneath the sun, the blade shone coldly.

“Don’t lower your arms!”

“Um.”

Ivan was sitting in the Reception Room of the Saint with his arms raised. The Saint looked at him, sighed deeply, and muttered.

“What’s so proud about turning fifteen of them into half-wits…?”

“They’re fine.”

“Just splashing some cursed potion and treating their wounds doesn’t mean they’re okay! They’re all freaking out looking for their mom and dad!”

“…That was a healing potion…”

Ivan’s small defense did not reach the Saint. She continued to grumble.

“Those people were part of the Royal Knight Order.”

“They were skilled.”

“And they were assigned to the Elthros collective troop.”

“…Um.”

Seeing Ivan’s expression, the Saint said weakly.

“Brother was scheduled to head towards Albania. Do you understand what that means?”

“It means they were meant to die.”

“Exactly.”

This is a classic double agent tactic. When facing two nations simultaneously, it means to not maintain a double front but rather give up one side to concentrate on the other.

The front where Ivan is participating must not fail. Rather, they must achieve overwhelming victory and push the enemy back.

Meanwhile, the legion on the opposing front, the Elthros front, must fail. Until a point that is not too critical. To the extent that the enemy can boast about their achievements.

If, after suffering defeats down to a limit, the front becomes stagnant, the Albanian command would be the first to suspect this.

Is the holy army only supporting Elthros while we’re being pushed back?

It is a natural line of reasoning. Common sense dictates that while a nation is being invaded, they wouldn’t deploy stronger military forces to a particular front. And if the enemy’s military power can be assumed to be average, it would not be their ineptitude or the allies’ competency but rather that the support from the rear is biased.

No one wants to prove their own shortcomings and incompetence.

Adding a small level of information warfare here is the end. As long as the enemies do not advance unified, the allied forces cannot easily overcome their inherent limits.

So to sum up the current situation simply.

“It’s a service to allow Elthros to boast appropriately next.”

“Yes, I’ve seen that happen often.”

“Right.”

They must not retreat recklessly while giving up territory without any troop losses. At least a minimal achievement must be provided to avoid arousing the enemy’s suspicions. Shouldn’t they at least pretend to resist?

Thus comes the difficult choice. Defeating the knights, specifically the Royal Knight Order, would be something they could hardly believe. The battlefield where only the most loyal and elite troops are engaged would, at least on the surface, appear to be the most vicious battlefield.

Meanwhile, Ivan’s legion crushes the enemy. Spreading disinformation and dispatching deserters as agents.

Once the Albanian legion is completely ensnared, or at least reaches the limit of offensives, at that point, the holy army would not just distrust the Albanian command but everyone would doubt the papal authority as well.

No one knows when or how the Pope might decide to support a particular nation. Essentially, all monarchs care more about their own kingdoms than about a holy war.

Ivan felt a bitter taste in his mouth, as he had excessively hampered those driven into a corner, even crushing their pride.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Um?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this, and I complained to brother for no reason. Lower your arms. Really, what are you doing?”

Has he lost his mind? Ivan silently lowered his arms and sat down.

The Saint let out a deep sigh and covered her face.

“Honestly, the knight order was at fault. We’ve seen that kind of thing a lot. How could I not know? But you know. It’s just. You know, I… pushed those people to their deaths.”

“Patricia.”

“So, I know as well. But this can’t go on, I just… I grumbled a bit to brother. It’s childish, right?”

“Not at all.”

“I was going to attack the Pope at the council. If the Pope hadn’t allied with the Seven Dragon Lords, I would have killed him. I would have hung him on the pyre and declared him a heretic.”

“….”

He knows. In a world where faith has dwindled, in order to unite a divided church, both the Saint and the Pope needed scapegoats. And each would have viewed the other as the most suitable scapegoat.

What they both desired was the same. The stability and peace of the church. The means they both chose were the same. The sacrifice of the other. However, only the methods differed.

The Saint intended to argue that “a world without divine intervention is correct” by presenting prophets.

The Pope intended to argue that “God is angry at the corruption of the world” by emphasizing divine power.

If one of them had clearly lost at the council, the church would not have split, and there would have been no war in the Southern Six Nations. The remaining people would have united against the coming threats rather than proclaiming holy war against each other.

That is the sin that the Saint speaks of.

“Preferably, I should have been there…”

“Enough.”

Ivan interrupted the Saint. He looked at her with cold eyes and spoke.

“What would have happened then?”

“…What?”

“Who could stop a Pope allied with the Seven Dragon Lords? Once the situation has calmed down, could the Pope truly bring closure to all he has wrought by his own hands?”

No, it was impossible. The Seven Dragon Lords corrupt souls. That is a curse that even superhumans cannot resist, and even Maximilian could not resist it.

The souls corrupted by the Seven Dragon Lords cannot be restored. It is something that cannot be overcome by will alone.

Thus, from the moment he allied with the Seven Dragon Lords, the Pope had already crossed an irreversible river.

“You did not make the wrong choice. Had you given up, the church would have appeared united. It would have lived in peace as if there was no division. But is that truly peace for the ‘church’?”

Could a church that continued to speak of divine will and teach divine love still exist? The organization may last, but the ideology would cease to remain. Faith would become tainted, and no longer would worshipers praise the Lord as before.

The seeds of corruption would be sown. Throughout this entire civilization. This world believed in a single faith, so, in that case, no one would be able to stop it. Lamerics would become the god of mankind.

“Trust in your choice. Do not regret the past. Do not think of those you have driven to their deaths. They did not march towards death because of your orders, but were martyrs who lost their lives to the blades of the corrupt.”

“Do you really think so? I… I… Am I saying this is just the result of my struggle to survive?”

“I mean it.”

If it truly were a righteous act, the Saint would not have hesitated to give her life for it. As far as Ivan remembers, she has never once saved herself.

In the first place, those who value their own lives do not walk towards the realm of demons. So everyone there, at least in that time, at that moment…

Yes, they could be described as pure. So much so.

Ivan poured tea into the Saint’s teacup and stood up.

“And if someone must do this, did we not vow not to shift our shame onto others?”

“Brother…”

“So stand proud. Show no mercy to those who fight under your command. That would be an insult to their resolve.”

“Then what should I do? If I do not pity them, what can I do?”

“Vengeance.”

Ivan concluded as he turned his back on the Saint.

“And for those who remain, hope.”

That is the mentality of the hero party. Not to feel pity for the dead. Just like the salute of the Cleanup Unit, not to feel pity for those who departed first.

They should stand tall. To not insult the last honor of the dead, they must be able to say they departed brilliantly. They must be shameless.

Ivan closed the door and left. A faint sound of weeping could be heard outside the door.

Now it’s time to prepare for departure. That means the grand strategy and military formation are complete.

There will be war.

As it has always been.

Ten days later, the first engagement occurred at the border.

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