The Indomitable Martial King

In terms of the capital’s defense level, it was not significantly inferior to that of the Holy Basutalon Empire. As a crucial hub where expensive goods were traded in large quantities, Zeppelin invested a massive amount in its military power.

“The only issue is that the military organization isn’t unified, so the control isn’t as strong as the empire’s capital. But it’s certainly formidable.”

As Repenhardt finished his explanation, Makelin fell into thought. As the leader of the Grand Forge, he always paid attention to the Duchy of Chatan, where many of his kin were held. However, they hadn’t been able to intervene due to their lack of power.

Thinking about it, even the current Duchy of Antares was no easy opponent.

Suddenly, Makelin asked.

“Come to think of it… how did you conquer it in your previous life?”

“It wasn’t particularly difficult back then.”

Repenhardt shrugged.

“First, I dropped a Meteor on the Zeppelin royal palace, wiping out the leadership and seizing control. Then, I used illusion magic to make it look like the city was overrun with undead, causing chaos. The Chatan Knights, mostly magic swordsmen, were dealt with using an AMP Shockwave. The capital defense force was taken care of by summoning some demons with Hell of the World. During that time, others rescued our kin. It was a clean operation with no casualties on our side.”

Makelin and Siris were left gaping. Siris asked.

“Repenhardt-nim.”

“Yes?”

“That Hell of the World thing, it summons ten thousand demons, right?”

“Yes.”

Makelin also asked.

“How large is the area affected by that Meteor?”

“It varies each time. The one I dropped on Zeppelin wiped out the royal palace and a couple of nearby streets.”

“……”

Summoning ten thousand demons, dropping a star from the sky to obliterate the palace, and filling the city with zombies?

Makelin and Siris both laughed incredulously. Listening to this, they couldn’t help but feel pity for the Zeppelin citizens, even though they were human.

Siris stammered a question.

“How many casualties…?”

“Around ten thousand, I think?”

“Oh, that’s fewer than I expected? Out of a city of 200,000 people, ten thousand isn’t much considering what you did…”

As Siris’s expression began to relax, Repenhardt nonchalantly added in a small voice.

“…Those were the ones who survived.”

“…”

Makelin stroked his beard and let out a deep sigh. Then, looking Repenhardt straight in the eyes, he spoke clearly.

“You were quite the formidable Dark Lord.”

“No, I was just trying to minimize our side’s casualties…”

But the two were already glaring intensely at Repenhardt. After doing such things, he found it unfair to be called a Dark Lord?

“No, it’s just…”

Repenhardt scratched his cheek.

In fact, he hadn’t intended to go that far back then. However, in his previous life, he didn’t have prior knowledge that allowed him to gather powerful warriors from remote areas, such as the Orc warriors led by Kalken or Stalla, the strong Elves of Iniya’s Stiria Tribe, and the Trolls of Attila. (They all joined only after the Antares Empire expanded its power.)

Back then, his reliable forces consisted of the Grand Forge, the Dahnhaim Tribe, Siris, and Tassid. Most other non-human races were weak, having been rescued from a life of slavery. To minimize their casualties, Repenhardt had to exert his full power.

Moreover, the most unfair part was…

“Hey, Makelin. That plan was actually devised by you, remember?”

“What? Was it? Gosh, had my personality changed so much?”

Makelin scratched his head. But upon hearing the story, he thought he too would have had no choice but to act similarly in those circumstances. Their forces were insufficient, and the enemy was powerful, so it was inevitable to prepare for bloodshed to save their kin.

“Anyway, now my magic isn’t as strong as it was back then… Even if I could do it again, it would cause massive backlash, so I want to find another way.”

“I see…”

Makelin nodded, stroking his beard for a moment. Suddenly, he spoke.

“I do have a few ideas…”

“What kind?” asked Repenhardt.

Makelin continued.

“Right now, I think the savior has come to the wrong person.”

Repenhardt looked puzzled as Makelin smiled gently.

“Times are different now. There’s a more suitable expert for this. Humans know best how to deal with humans, after all.”

* * *

Karl was diligently immersed in his official duties today as well.

Sitting in his study, rapidly processing various documents, his demeanor was indeed befitting that of a nation’s chancellor.

However, there was an unusual sight; he was signing documents with one hand while lifting a heavy dumbbell up and down with the other.

“I just don’t have time to work out separately.”

Karl greeted his master with a smile. Repenhardt couldn’t help but express his admiration.

“You’ve gotten quite fit.”

Karl, who was already 185 centimeters tall with a knight’s solid build, had undergone one-on-one training with Repenhardt. Now, he had broad shoulders, thick arms, and a full beard, transforming into a rugged appearance.

If one only looked at his work, he seemed more like a bandit chief counting the day’s loot than a nation’s chancellor.

“Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

Karl offered a seat to Repenhardt and Siris. As expected of a noble of good lineage, his every simple movement exuded noble elegance.

“Thank you. I don’t need any tea.”

Repenhardt responded with equal elegance as he sat down. As a former emperor, Repenhardt could display noble grace whenever he wished.

Meanwhile, Siris, caught between the two muscle-bound men feigning elegance, shivered with discomfort.

“Ugh…”

“Huh? What’s wrong, Siris?”

“Ah, nothing.”

Karl, seated across from them on the sofa, asked.

“So, what brings you to me?”

Repenhardt began to explain calmly. After hearing the entire story, Karl nodded.

“Hmm, so you want to conquer Zeppelin.”

“That’s right. Makelin suggested that you would be more suitable for the task.”

“Well, compared to Lord Makelin, I would indeed be a more suitable candidate.”

With a wry smile, Karl asked calmly.

“You mean you want to rescue those living as slaves in Zeppelin rather than occupying it? And you want to conceal the Duchy of Antares’s involvement?”

“That’s correct. I want to resolve this with minimal casualties, but Zeppelin’s forces are formidable, making it a challenging task…”

Karl shrugged at the worried tone of Repenhardt.

“It’s not a particularly difficult task.”

“Hmm?”

Repenhardt looked at Karl with surprised eyes.

Karl, who was once the heir to the throne known as Carsus, would have a more precise understanding of the power of the Duchy of Chatan and Zeppelin than even Repenhardt. Yet, he seemed so confident?

“Not a difficult task?”

“Didn’t you say it’s not about occupation?”

Karl asked back, looking puzzled.

“If it’s merely a matter of rescuing slaves, in other words, guerrilla warfare, the current strength of the Duchy of Antares is more than sufficient.”

“Do you mean that guerrilla warfare is easier than regular warfare?”

“In the current situation of the Duchy of Antares, yes.”

With a gentle smile, Karl began to speak.

“Do you know how many Aura Users the Duchy of Antares currently has? There are two human Aura Users, seven Orc Aura Users, three Dwarf Aura Users, and one Elf Aura User. Moreover, someone like Lord Attila possesses power greater than an Aura User, though his path is different.”

Repenhardt frowned. He was well aware of these facts.

“But the number of human Aura Users alone is more than five times that.”

It seemed like a significant number, but combining the strengths of the four races to barely reach such a count only proved how much they had fallen.

However, Karl shook his head.

“That’s true when viewed by race. But on a national level, it’s a different story. The Holy Basutalon Empire, the strongest nation on the continent, has eleven Aura Users. In simple numbers, no country on the continent has more Aura Users than the Duchy of Antares.”

In fact, the offensive power of the Duchy of Antares was already at the level of a considerable power. Though few in number, the elite troops were of such high quality that even strong nations like Graim or Hallein would struggle to face the Duchy of Antares in a blitzkrieg or invasion.

Karl explained that while their absolute number of troops was small, making their defense very weak and unable to occupy other territories, their current strength was sufficient for mere raids.

“Due to the serious weakness in magical power, we’re currently focusing on that area, but it can be somewhat compensated with the elves’ elemental magic. In any case, the Duchy of Antares, despite having a small number of troops, boasts many elite soldiers and is teeming with superhumans capable of taking on a hundred men each, along with incredible mobility using space portals. There’s no better condition for guerrilla warfare than this.”

Despite Karl’s confident explanation, Repenhardt’s expression did not brighten. Repenhardt already knew that much. What concerned him was not whether they could rescue the other races, but the casualties their forces would suffer in the process.

“Even so, the military strength of Zeppelin is formidable. A regular army of ten thousand is threatening enough by its sheer numbers.”

Karl chuckled softly. Indeed, Repenhardt was a ruler, not a strategist. He was thinking about confronting all ten thousand of Zeppelin’s troops head-on.

“Why would guerrilla fighters face the entire regular army? It’s enough to deal with only the enemies we encounter.”

Turning ten thousand enemies into something less than ten thousand—that was the essence of tactics and strategy.

Repenhardt’s eyes gleamed as he asked, “Then… is it possible?”

“It is more than possible.”

Karl stood up.

“We’ve already been laying the groundwork for some time.”

Even without his lord’s orders, he could no longer bear to see the suffering of the other races. To him, the dwarves were no longer strangers, and the same went for other races.

“The Principality of Chatan and Zeppelin are practically the core of the deeply rooted slavery system across the continent. I’ve always known this day would come.”

Thus, even while handling the complex affairs of the Duchy of Antares, he had been steadily preparing to rescue the slaves of other races in the Principality of Chatan.

Karl concluded with a cold smile.

“To make a deeply rooted tree fall, you have to dry up its roots first.”