Episode 129
Two horses, one with a mane as dark as night and the other as white as snow, galloped across the lands of the Duke of York.
“Open your heart to the heir of darkness, and respond to his feelings.”
“Please, lend me your strength, Lady Sepia.”
When Dale had spoken those words, Sepia had nodded with her usual gentle and kind smile. She was always the mentor who cared for her student, the elf mage who understood Dale’s world.
Her kindness seemed to embody the very compassion of a goddess.
But now, Dale understood. The crystal necklace that jingled in his pocket, the truth revealed by Mistress Titania—Sepia’s absolute love was not truly her own will. It never had been.
Dale bit his lip softly.
“What’s wrong?”
At that moment, Sepia, riding beside him, asked with concern.
“You don’t look well. Is there some unfavorable news from the front?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Dale forced a smile, trying not to show his inner turmoil. Sepia continued with her usual reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be by your side.”
“I’ll be by your side.”
Unbidden, Charlotte’s voice echoed in his mind. The girl who didn’t even know that the person before her was the murderer of her hated father, yet was willing to become a sword for Dale.
That day, Dale’s will reached out to the young Charlotte, shaping her into who she was now. How was that any different from the “schemes and lies” of the Blue Tower? In some ways, it was even more insidious than the suggestion that moved Sepia.
Nothing was different. Titania had once called Dale the “most promising heir of the Blue Tower.” Though he couldn’t grasp her true intentions, it was indeed ironic and hypocritical for Dale to point fingers at the Blue Tower.
Just as his father, the Duke of Darkness, had done before him.
“Thank you, Lady Sepia.”
And so, Dale could say nothing more.
For now, all Dale could do was secure victory in this war. After that, as promised, he would convene the “Sorceress Council” of the Blue Tower, and the rest would follow.
Dale did not head straight to the stronghold where the leaders of York, the witches, were gathered.
When a high-ranking assassin from the “Shadow Court,” with whom he had regular contact, came to him, Dale’s orders were unexpected.
“Recall the entire intelligence unit and gather the high-ranking assassins of the Shadow Court at Felix Fortress.”
Dale’s new destination was one of the many fortresses built in the Duke of York’s lands to stand against the House of Lancaster.
The information obtained through the Purifier that day wasn’t decisive enough to determine the course of the battle. However, it provided a crucial clue against Mikhail’s strategy of “hiding a tree in the forest” through simultaneous advances.
“It was information I would have obtained eventually.”
But the real gain from encountering the Purifier unit that day was something else entirely.
In the fortress on a cold, dark winter night, a faintly glowing brazier flickered.
Dale accelerated his four circles, experimentally generating magic.
Amidst the dark blue magic, a blood-red energy flickered like static before fading away.
”…I think I understand.”
Standing atop the fortress tower, he gazed out at the open horizon.
Felix Fortress was the furthest back from the advancing forces of Lancaster, forming simultaneous fronts. In other words, Dale had deliberately positioned himself in the rear, not joining the front lines.
Unfortunately, without the ability to act as the “Black Prince,” he couldn’t officially command the Night Raven Knights or the elders of the Black Tower. Officially, Dale was acting as “Philip, the Genius of Defeat.”
People don’t change overnight. If the Genius of Defeat suddenly became the “Genius of Victory,” even a fool would easily deduce his true identity from the Lancaster side.
However, the enemies who would face Philip, the Genius of Defeat, for the first time on his debut battlefield were an exception.
Seeing the banners of the Brandenburg Count’s house fluttering over Felix Fortress, they would celebrate their victory before the battle even began.
Just as Dale had secured a one-time victory against the Holy Sword Cavalry through the Shadow Court… This was a one-time opportunity that Philip, the Genius of Defeat, could seize.
This opportunity would be the key to turning the tide of the unfavorable war.
Night had fallen. Except for scouts and others active in the dark, the Lancaster forces officially halted their advance.
Forming and breaking through multiple fronts simultaneously wasn’t without its drawbacks. It made them vulnerable to unexpected attacks, and the need for coordinated movement across the wide front slowed their advance.
Moreover, they couldn’t use armored vehicles like tanks or armored cars in this maneuver warfare.
Thus, with the defensive posture of the numerous fortresses in the Duke of York’s lands solidifying, they would surely come up with a strategy to break through.
That much was within Dale’s expectations, and learning the specifics was a stroke of luck.
The “Purifiers” of the Red Tower, infiltrating and operating in the rear of the Duke of York’s lands.
Mages known as the “Gods of War,” particularly the red mages of the Red Tower who claimed to be the gods of siege warfare.
Their plan was to swallow the rear and, with the Lancaster forces joining them, aim for a decisive move.
However, red mages weren’t specialized for nighttime operations. In this world, large flames and explosions in the dead of night could only mean one thing.
In a situation where both sides had wide fronts, a conspicuous night raid was a suicidal act.
Thus, predicting the enemy’s movements on this night wasn’t difficult.
To encircle the York front from both sides, they would aim to capture the relatively lightly guarded rear fortresses first. And only a select few elite forces would be capable of such a task.
Among them, the rear fortress Felix was the most tempting target for Lancaster.
First, capturing this place would provide a strategic vantage point to oversee the entire York front.
Second, despite being a rear fortress, it held significant importance, and it was defended by none other than “Philip, the Genius of Defeat,” renowned across the continent.
The fool who had once surrendered an impregnable fortress on the island of Bratina would surely fail to defend in this evenly matched battlefield.
The Lancaster strike force, having completed their flanking maneuver to the rear of the York lands, silently celebrated.
This was a battle won before it even began. They would capture the rear fortress and isolate the York front from both sides to secure victory.
Before the armor of the “Knights of St. Magdalena” and the banners symbolizing the Count’s house, there was no hesitation.
At that moment, inside a room in the fortress, Dale was looking out the window.
Beside him, as always, was Sepia, gently watching over him. Just as she had done for Dale, the ruler of the Demon Realm and now the Viscount of Saxony.
“Lady Sepia.”
“Yes, Dale?”
After a moment of silence, Dale spoke.
“Why do you do so much for me?”
“Why, you ask? Didn’t I promise?”
Sepia tilted her head, puzzled.
“To stay by your side and protect your happiness.”
“Yes.”
Dale smiled softly at her words. After smiling, he didn’t hesitate.
”…!”
He closed the distance and kissed Sepia. There was no trace of the boyishness typical of his age in the ever-maturing Dale. He didn’t even need to stand on tiptoe. Instead, he slightly lowered his head to kiss Sepia.
Caught off guard by the sudden kiss, Sepia was momentarily flustered. But her surprise was short-lived.
“Mmm, hmm…”
With an inexplicable smile, she wrapped her arms around Dale’s shoulders.
The agape love, the endless affirmation, kindness, and warmth she showed Dale were comforting. Through her, he wanted to forget the cold loneliness that lingered in his world.
But this was never truly her will. Even knowing that, he cherished Sepia for accepting him.
Charlotte and Sepia—how were they different?
As a hero from another world, Dale had once loathed those who pulled the puppet strings of his past self. But now, how was his behavior any different from theirs? It wasn’t different at all.
Before he knew it, Dale had become just like them—a monster.
“You’ve grown so mature already.”
After the kiss, Sepia blushed and smiled.
“I promised to become a man worthy of you, Lady Sepia.”
After speaking, Dale gave a bitter smile. Knowing she couldn’t resist, he selfishly sought her affection. Could he truly say he was worthy of Sepia?
No, he couldn’t.
Dale slipped his hand into his pocket, feeling the familiar touch of the crystal necklace Titania had given him long ago.
After a moment of hesitation, he was about to take it out when—
“Well, well, I feel terribly sorry to interrupt your little moment together, but here we are.”
“…!”
A presence made itself known, catching them off guard.
“As expected, Lancaster’s elite forces have completed their flanking maneuver and are on the verge of capturing the fortress.”
“We’ll respond immediately.”
Dale nodded to the shadowy assassins who had brought the report, pushing aside the sensation of the crystal necklace still in his pocket.
Sepia’s face turned crimson, and she averted her eyes, overwhelmed with embarrassment.
There are three main lines.
The first line: the enemy forces of the Lancaster duchy advancing simultaneously.
The second line: the fortifications of the York marquisate, holding their ground against the onslaught.
The third line: positioned slightly behind the York defensive front.
In a typical war scenario, where the first and second lines clash, it’s often the third line that breaks the stalemate.
Through a covert large-scale flanking maneuver, they ambush the enemy’s rear, capturing the fortress, and encircle the second line with the first and third lines. That’s why Dale chose to be part of the third line, rather than the defensive second line.
And now, Lancaster’s elite forces, targeting this third line, had begun their siege.
Their target was Felix, a fortress far from the main defensive front.
Despite the inability to launch a cavalry charge and the inherent risks of a siege, they deemed it a risk worth taking. The weight of Philip’s name, the genius of defeat, was anything but light.