The Immortal Genius Spearman

Chapter 141

The capital of the Cartelia Empire, Jutermel.

As the capital of an empire that encompassed the continent, its scale was colossal, roughly five times the size of an ordinary territory. Flowing through the center of Jutermel was the Arden River, also known as the River of the Gods.

At the very heart of it lay the imperial palace.

Inside the imperial palace, where the emperor resided, an unusual chill filled the air.

“Failure… Are you saying it was a failure?”

The Emperor of the Cartelia Empire, Valentia Seymour.

He lightly tapped the armrest of the throne as he gazed at the retainer before him.

If the report was one of failure, the man should have been trembling. However, with a calm expression, he said:

“Something impossible has occurred.”

“And what is that?”

“The soldiers of the Spanian Kingdom, along with the soldiers of the Baroque Kingdom, launched a preemptive strike against the imperial forces stationed north of Sragan.”

“A preemptive strike, you say?”

Valentia’s eyes gleamed with interest.

For the past twelve years.

During the peaceful period when the empire lay dormant, had there been even a single person who dared draw their sword against the empire first?

Valentia asked:

“Who was leading the soldiers of the Spanian Kingdom?”

“Mateus Grone. He is currently serving as the general of the Spanian Kingdom.”

“Mateus! I know him well. But it couldn’t be him.”

Valentia shook his head.

While he had heard of Mateus’ valor, he was not one to dare draw his sword against the empire.

Besides, 12 years ago, when the war ended, Mateus had been a mere junior officer within the military ranks.

“Who else was there?”

“The one leading the reinforcements from the Baroque Kingdom was a man named Diorant, and among the forces that moved with him was an independent unit called the Caion Unit.”

“The Caion Unit. Is that the same unit that shattered the Rose Knight Order led by Piaren?”

“Yes. And apart from the main force, there was another figure who clashed with General Galveron on this battlefield — Hainel Fremunt.”

“Hainel?”

Valentia’s gaze flickered briefly.

It was a name he had not expected to hear.

“Are you telling me that he has returned to the battlefield?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Hainel had left the battlefield after that war 12 years ago.

What had suddenly compelled him to return to the battlefield?

But if he had, it would mean that the resolve Hainel had once made had been broken.

“Hohohohoho, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.”

Hearing the name of someone who had been active as a key figure during the era when the continent was in turmoil stirred something within him.

“And if it’s him, I suppose it’s not surprising. He is one of the few who dared to stand against the empire and lived to tell the tale. No… perhaps his feelings toward us remain particularly sharp.”

When Valentia rose from his seat, the retainer’s eyes wavered.

It had been a long time since Valentia had shown such a fervent reaction.

Valentia gazed at him and asked:

“Doesn’t your heart race as well?”

At that question, the man standing before him drew a small arc with his lips.

He understood the meaning behind the question all too well.

He raised his head to meet Valentia’s gaze.

His hair was golden and slightly wavy, his skin pale enough that the faint trace of blood vessels could be seen.

His frame was slightly lean.

This was Benoit Yulianos, the chancellor known as the “Brain of the Empire.”

He was one of the loyalists who, together with Valentia, had built the current empire.

A close companion of the emperor, Benoit nodded his head.

“It seems that all the necessary pieces are finally being revealed.”

“If so, what’s next?”

“Next, we must also draw out those who are lurking behind the Baroque Kingdom, merely observing the situation from the shadows.”

“Hohohohohohohohoho.”

Valentia couldn’t suppress his laughter at Benoit’s suggestion.

At long last, it seemed the continent was about to return to an era of great conflict, and a sense of ecstasy surged through him.

“At last, the scene I have longed for will unfold before my eyes.”

The day when the entire continent would burn and all would kneel before him.

As he watched the flames of war slowly ignite, Valentia burst into laughter for the first time in a long while.

“He’s a madman.”

“…A madman, you say?”

Hearing Leonhark’s remark, Damian furrowed his brow.

They were talking after having returned to Valphate, and the topic of conversation had shifted to the emperor of the empire.

Thinking of the emperor, Leonhark defined him with a single word — “madman.”

“He’s a maniac for war. The first thing he did after taking the throne was to wage the Great War that started 19 years ago.”

A war that spanned a grueling seven years.

A war that left only scars and no gain.

How many small kingdoms disappeared because of that war? How many people lost their lives?

Having lived through those times, Leonhark could never have a favorable view of the emperor of the empire.

“It’s also why I joined the military. I believed only the strength of our kingdom could protect it.”

“…I see.”

Damian nodded.

Even in his previous life, he had thought of Leonhark as someone he was rather close to.

‘But did we ever have this kind of conversation before?’

With the sense of something new, Damian wore a faint smile. But at that moment.

“By the way, what happened with Sir Hainel? Did you persuade him somehow?”

“No. To be honest, I don’t know either.”

No one knew why Hainel had suddenly returned to the battlefield.

The only important fact was that, after 12 years, Hainel had reappeared on the battlefield, and as a result, there was strange movement within the kingdom.

Hearing Damian’s words, Leonhark nodded. Then he lightly patted Damian on the shoulder and said:

“Regardless, you’ve done well. Truly. Thank you for coming back alive… I’m truly grateful.”

“There’s no immediate schedule, right? Many of the soldiers are injured, so I think we’ll need to focus on treatment for a while.”

“Of course. The Corps Commander has also guaranteed us proper rest after this battle, so you don’t need to worry.”

If, by chance, someone tried to hastily mobilize the troops, Leonhark was prepared to intervene and stop it himself.

Seeing Leonhark’s firm resolve, Damian let out a faint smile.

“Thank you, as always.”

“Isn’t it simply my duty to do so?”

Leonhark’s faint smile.

Damian bowed his head lightly and returned to the barracks where the soldiers were gathered.

As if they had been waiting for him, the moment Damian entered the barracks, the soldiers bombarded him with questions.

“How did it go?”

“We’re not starting training right away, are we?”

They didn’t say it outright, but it was clear that everyone was exhausted.

Damian glanced at the soldiers, who were looking at him with tense eyes.

“You’ll have a week to rest, so don’t worry.”

“A-a whole week?!”

“Whoa!!”

The soldiers burst into cheers, clearly thrilled by Damian’s decision.

“That said, those of you who are in good condition should continue personal training during the break. If you suddenly stop and then start training again, it’ll be hell for you.”

“Yes, sir!”

With the soldiers’ energetic response, Damian nodded and left the barracks.

One major incident had passed smoothly, but…

‘This incident will surely prompt the empire to mobilize its main forces.’

Up until now, the empire had operated its forces in small units of ten or twenty thousand soldiers. But from now on, it was highly likely they would start mobilizing in earnest.

Damian speculated on two possible developments.

The first was—

‘The return of Duke Hainel to the battlefield.’

He didn’t know exactly what that signified, but from his conversation with Leonhark, he could tell that with Duke Hainel now on their side, the Baroque Kingdom was ready to confront the empire more actively.

But the second point was far more significant.

And that was—

‘The mere fact that they were subjected to a preemptive strike would be seen as a challenge to their authority.’

The empire, which had always wielded overwhelming power, was used to being the one dealing the first blow.

While they might have prepared for the possibility of retaliation, it was unlikely they had ever imagined being attacked first.

This incident would bring a significant shift to future battlefields.

Ultimately, the strategy Damian employed to secure victory in this battle was beginning to change the balance of power across the continent.

“Captain, you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

Surprised by the sudden arrival of a guest, Damian stepped outside. Approaching him was a man he had never seen before.

“And you are…?”

“I’ve been sent by Lord Diel. I’ve been waiting for several days… but I heard you’ve just returned.”

The man was a staff member of the Hamel Trading Company.

He handed Damian a letter from Diel.

The contents of the letter were as follows:

“…It seems I really did pick the right person.”

The letter stated that land in the southern region of the Baroque Kingdom had been purchased and that farming for food production had begun.

Additionally, equipment that Damian had requested had been completed through Torrel in Miltobern.

A grin crept onto Damian’s face.

“Since we can’t train for the time being…”

Besides, during the recent battle, one of the men had even lost his weapon.

‘This might be a good experience for him.’

The only person to whom he could disclose his full plan was none other than Dianal.

He knew better than anyone about Dianal’s character and unwavering loyalty.

“A week.”

It was a short leave of absence.

Of course, it was more of a step back to prepare for a greater leap forward, but Damian thought this was the perfect chance to head to Miltobern.

Step, step, step.

Without hesitation, Damian began walking toward where Dianal was staying.

It felt a bit cruel to ask someone who had yet to fully recover to come along with him, but—

“I’ll go! I’ll follow you!”

Dianal’s eyes sparkled in response to Damian’s suggestion to travel together to Miltobern.

For a while, he’d been intensely curious about where Damian kept sneaking off to on his own.

“Training is tough, but ordinary activities aren’t a problem, so please don’t worry about me.”

“We’ll be traveling by carriage, so rest as much as you need inside.”

Besides, Diel had also asked him to visit Miltobern.

‘This time, it’ll be four of us gathered, huh?’

With that in mind, Damian packed up some simple travel gear and set off for Miltobern with Dianal.

***

Several months had passed since Damian had left.

However, since his departure, the blacksmithing district of Miltobern had undergone significant changes.

The emergence of a new master.

Torrel, a craftsman capable of working with Amantatium, the strongest metal in existence, had gained widespread recognition, and many disciples had started to flock to him.

Although Torrel had initially declined, saying it was too burdensome, he ultimately agreed to take in students after forming a partnership with the Hamel Trading Company. Together, they built the largest forge in Miltobern.

For the disciples, the chance to learn even a fraction of Torrel’s techniques was a monumental opportunity.

Effectively, Torrel had become the most famous blacksmith in Miltobern.

However—

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Despite his newfound fame, Torrel had not gone a single day without picking up his hammer.

He never allowed himself to be complacent and continued to hone his craft.

To him, this was his way of repaying the person who had brought him to where he was today, as well as his duty as a master craftsman.

Sssszzzzzzzz!

“Huu…”

Torrel exhaled slowly as he pulled a piece of steel from the cold water and examined it from every angle.

Then, as he placed the steel back on the anvil and prepared to lift his hammer once more—

“Master Torrel, you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

Hearing the unexpected news from one of his workers, Torrel tilted his head in confusion.

He had clearly told them not to interrupt him during work unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Who is it?”

“A guest by the name of Damian.”

The most important guest had arrived.

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