Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 221

The proclamation sent out to all the nobles across the kingdom from Maclaine had a significant impact. Even the nobles who were still in disbelief now became certain of the impending war, and the smaller nobles who had been gathering reactively to the king’s declaration of treason faltered in their actions. Ultimately, the majority of the nobles, except those recently appointed by the king, chose to observe the civil war from the sidelines.

“We apologize for not having the capacity to help.”

One by one, the nobles came up with similar excuses. Unable to predict the future, they refused to gamble at all. Neither the king nor Logan rebuked their indecisive behavior immediately. After all, everyone knew that the true protagonists of this war would be the Esperanza and Maclaine households. Indeed, as soon as all the manpower gathered in front of the royal castle, the Sword Master announced the march on Maclaine Town. The advance was direct without any apparent schemes or tactics, indicating either a reflection of his nature or a desire not to prolong the war.

“End everything with one turn.”

This single sentence sent by a messenger, rather than by magical communication, clearly conveyed its meaning. Logan, observing the straightforward and honest handwriting that seemed to reflect his mentor’s firm nature, sighed softly. However, both sides preferred a quick end to the conflict. Given the Sword Master’s character, he wouldn’t resort to underhanded methods either.

“Convey my compliance to His Majesty.”

“…Understood.”

Was the readily given response surprising? Accompanied by a slightly delayed acknowledgment, the messenger bowed and swiftly departed. The next day, Logan publicly announced his departure for war.

That night, since the declaration of war, Padric, who had been observing his son with concern, visited Logan’s room.

– Yes. Please come in.

The door creaked open, revealing his son rising from the bed. Although dressed in pajamas, his glowing eyes showed no sign of sleep.

Within that stare, Padric felt anew the troubles burdening his son.

“…Are you really going to be alright?”

An abrupt question emerged out of concern, lacking both a subject and object.

His son responded with a bitter smile.

“I am simply doing what must be done. The king is clearly on the wrong path.”

“Yes, that’s true. But, it’s not the king you’ll have to fight tomorrow, it’s your Sword Master.”

“I am aware. And I have thought through enough countermeasures.”

Padric, seeing his son’s hesitation, grew more concerned.

“I’m not asking about your strategy. I’m asking if you can truly face your Sword Master and draw your sword against him.”

To this, Logan replied with a calm voice.

“…It’s something that must be done.”

“Do you mean you can do it?”

“…Yes.”

Though his response was slightly delayed, Padric took his son’s word, having nothing further to say.

After watching his son with lingering concern, Padric could only pat his shoulder and leave.

“Alright. I will trust you.”

The door closed with a creak, leaving Logan alone with a quiet sigh. In the space that his father vacated, the cup of tea that Eileen had left on a visit earlier now sat.

– Stay strong.

The situation was as consoling as it was ironically laughable.

‘I’ve caused worry during this critical time.’

His mental strain had evidently shown, causing those around him to react. He wondered how much of an impact his demeanor had on the morale of his troops. It was a foolish display of weakness.

Yet, knowing this, the weight in his chest didn’t lift easily.

‘Master…’

Tomorrow, he had to fight against the very person who nurtured their relationship through trade, guidance, and firm support, becoming his unwavering advocate.

‘There’s no turning back now.’

He had to fight.

And he had to win.

Reaffirming his resolve, Logan let out a deep breath.

“There are things we must do, even if we don’t want to.”

In the empty room, his voice carried heavy conviction.

* * *

Prolonged trumpet blasts signaled for the assembled troops to advance. Only days ago, the townsfolk of the Maclaine estate, trembling with unease, now found some reassurance as they witnessed the robust form of the Maclaine forces marching forward. Despite their rigid expressions and anxious chatter.

“Are we really going to attack the royal castle?”

“To fight against the kingdom’s top swordsman too?”

“Could this lead to a disaster?”

The murmurs of declining morale were interrupted by more defiant voices.

“What’s there to worry about? It’s the work of our grand duke.”

“Really?”

“Even the most impossible tasks succeed under the grand duke. This will be no different.”

Empty bravado perhaps, grounded only in hope rather than evidence. It seemed like mere words to quell the fears on the battlefield. Yet Logan’s numerous achievements lent credibility to even such baseless assurances. And unknowingly, Logan’s lips curled in a slight grin at these utterances.

“Good.”

The psychological unease hadn’t vanished entirely. However, the solid presence of his family’s military power dissolved any lingering anxiety.

Luther Kyle and himself, a superhuman, stood at the very front, followed by a 1,300-strong knights order backed by his father, and behind them were Victoria and other elite members of the mage tower, guided by Clayton, hauling hundreds of wagons with golems.

All were carriers of Libertatio, epitomes of fire power, ready for any sudden attacks, encircled smartly by nearly 7,000 crossbow cavalrymen in the center. And shining in their armors were 15,000 of the main force, following on.

“All this is the power of the family you’ve built.”

A casual remark from his father nearby added a bit more strength to his resolve.

‘And this isn’t even everything.’

Aside from these, another 30,000 soldiers, half of the militia forces totaling 60,000, were scheduled to join during the march. It was a total war effort, sparing only the minimum troops required for the estate’s internal security.

“This must end in one go, as swiftly as possible. That’s how we minimize the casualties.”

In response to Logan’s words, everyone in the family fulfilled their roles faithfully. The militia formed by training commoners and arming them with repeating crossbows—weapons deadly even to knights—proved its worth in the last civil war at the Aegis Fortress.

‘Master had his reservations about accepting these methods, too.’

Giving the lowest denizens of the estate a weapon that could overturn feudal order was akin to inviting chaos. The success at Aegis Fortress was attributed more to the crossbows than the militia, so much that it was difficult for the kingdom’s nobles to accept this unprecedented military force.

“So we must mobilize.”

Soon, the kingdom would realize that war’s fundamental dynamics—traditionally centered around knights and mages—had changed.

‘With overwhelming force, shatter everything at once and minimize losses for the kingdom.’

But for this to be possible.

‘I must defeat the kingdom’s strongest Aura user, my master.’

Confronted again with this formidable challenge, Logan’s face hardened with determination. This would be the quickest and easiest path to victory. If he failed, the road ahead would be arduous indeed.

‘The odds are definitely in my favor.’

Filled with empowering strength from within his heart, Logan had been challenging the intermediate level of Aura users ever since his awakening to superhuman status not even a year ago. His personally developed techniques had proved their worth.

With his power, his special traits, and wielding a new, unseen sword technique—

‘I can do it.’

Amidst the growing tension before the battle, Logan’s eyes shone with even more resolution.

Crossing the Sin Maclaine Plains and passing by the Aegis Fortress, they reached a plain before the mountain range. There, hundreds of meters apart, the two families’ armies faced each other.

‘The Esperanza knights number less than 400. But if recruitment standards haven’t changed, they can’t be underestimated. Luckily, their total troops barely exceed 20,000.’

Logan quickly assessed the opposing force’s strength with eagle eyes. The size of the Esperanza forces had expectedly grown with the addition of the king’s new supporters.

On the contrary—

“What’s with that huge number?”

“It’s different from what we heard.”

“What’s happening?”

Murmurings of the enemy’s rank reached Logan’s ears just barely. Their astonishment was justified—the Maclaine army, now joined by the 30,000-strong militia, surpassed 50,000, a force more than double the size of the enemy.

‘This is a good omen.’

Seeing the adversaries swaying already, Logan spurred his horse and led his forces to the front of their formation. Then he roared out loudly enough to echo across the entire battlefield.

“Hear me, fools following a foolish king, causing chaos! Lay down your arms and surrender! Those who surrender will be spared! Join us in punishing the tyrant and ushering in a new era!”

It was a proclamation to instill confidence in his troops while sowing the seeds of fear into the hearts of the faltering enemy.

In response, one figure slowly rode out from the enemy frontlines. A face Logan had always seen as a solid ally—his mentor’s. As fleeting emotions of joy and sorrow passed through Logan’s expressions, his master began to speak.

“The king is the center of the nation, and as a subject, it is our duty to obey his commands. To call the king a tyrant without clear proof is a dereliction of a subject’s duty. As a royal sword, it is my duty to follow His Majesty’s orders.”

His mentor’s voice, calm and clear, carried to every corner of the battlefield.

“In the name of King Rogers von Grandia the Third, the ruler of Grandia, I shall subdue the traitor, Maclaine!”

As his master raised his sword, a brilliant red aura shot up, the light piercing the sky amidst cheers.

“Wow!”

To Logan, it seemed like an unnecessary show of force, but that grand performance instantly quelled the enemy soldiers’ unrest.

And then—

“All troops, forward!”

The war had begun.