Translator: CinderTL
The deafening roar gradually subsided, and the disorienting dizziness slowly receded.
The battlefield's lingering smoke and shimmering energy dust settled, restoring clarity to the obscured vision.
The first sounds to pierce the silence were suppressed, pained groans rising from all directions.
Golden Valley Kingdom soldiers and River Domain Nations trainees lay scattered across the ground.
Many had been wounded by the indiscriminate attacks of the dark monster and the earth-shattering aftershocks of the transcendent clash. Now, they simultaneously endured physical agony and the dazed relief of survival.
Yet, as their gazes—whether filled with pain, fear, or confusion—converged on the battlefield's center, all sound seemed to be abruptly choked off by an invisible hand.
Every person was utterly stunned by the sight before them. The scene reflected in their pupils momentarily eclipsed their own injuries and allegiances.
At the battlefield's heart lay a colossal crater, as terrifying as if a meteor had struck.
Countless bottomless fissures radiated from the crater's rim, like gaping scars tearing across the earth.
Within the crater and its surrounding area, every blade of grass, pebble, and even the scattered weapons and armor had been reduced to fine dust, as if utterly annihilated by some absolute force.
At the heart of this area of utter destruction stood a figure, unwavering and majestic.
It was Roland.
Faint traces of residual energy still lingered around him, the air thick with a subtle yet oppressive aura that sent shivers down the spine.
Though the Mithril Longsword in his hand had sheathed its brilliance, a faint, ethereal golden glow still flowed along its blade, its tip angled toward the ground.
He stood calmly on the shattered, ravaged earth. Though his frame wasn't particularly imposing, to those who beheld him, he seemed heavier than a mountain, more dazzling than the sun.
"G... Goddess above..."
A River Domain Student, clutching his bleeding arm, murmured in a daze, his eyes filled with a reverence bordering on religious fervor.
Further away, the Golden Valley Soldiers were ashen-faced, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
They stared at that figure, at the utterly transformed landscape, their minds consumed by pure terror and disbelief.
Even Lord Leonard and that terrifying monster had fallen...
Now, they harbored no will to resist, only a primal dread that gripped them to their very souls.
In that moment, friend and foe alike clearly understood one undeniable truth.
The man before them possessed absolute power—enough to dominate this battlefield and determine the fate of all present.
Roland paid no attention to the gazes fixed on him.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the exhaustion and rapid panting caused by overexertion, then looked down at his feet.
Where the shadowy figure had stood moments before, only a pool of viscous, black liquid remained, still slowly writhing as if alive.
"This is..."
Recognizing the liquid's aura as identical to the mysterious substance he had obtained when accepting the commission, Roland frowned slightly. He bent down, retrieved a crystal bottle from his waist pouch, and carefully poured the liquid into it.
Straightening up, he gently shook the bottle to confirm that the abyssal energy-infused liquid wasn't corroding the glass before stowing it back in his pouch.
He exhaled slowly and quickly assessed his condition.
Confirming that he had only temporarily overextended his strength and sustained minor superficial injuries that wouldn't impede his movements, he swept his sharp gaze across the battlefield.
The scene before him could only be described as "devastating."
Of the original dozens of elite students from the River Domain Nations, fewer than ten remained standing, each bearing wounds.
The situation for the Golden Valley Kingdom was even more dire.
From their once-imposing formation of nearly a thousand soldiers, only a handful remained standing, scattered across the battlefield like withered grass after a wildfire.
Of the remaining survivors, barely a dozen still breathed, but all lay critically wounded, unable to rise, their faint groans echoing through the blood-soaked battlefield.
Roland frowned slightly at the near-total annihilation.
The image of the pitch-black figure—or rather, the "vessel" of the abyss—attacking with frenzied ferocity flashed through his mind again. A previously overlooked detail suddenly surfaced.
Though the creature's assault had seemed indiscriminate, upon closer reflection, the vast majority of its most devastating strikes appeared to have been...
Deliberately directed toward the Golden Valley Kingdom's soldier formations?
This realization sparked a flicker of doubt in his heart.
Why would Duke Arno's secret creation prioritize slaughtering its own soldiers?
He shook his head, temporarily suppressing this inconvenient question. Turning to Theresa and Galvis, he spoke with calm clarity:
"Theresa, Galvis, immediately gather all those still capable of moving. Take stock of the casualties, provide basic first aid, then check the remaining Golden Valley soldiers for signs of life. Disarm them and keep them under guard."
Having issued his orders, Roland wasted no time. He strode across the ravaged battlefield toward the spot where Leonard had been blasted into the ground, unconscious.
"Cough... cough cough..."
Even before he drew near, a weak coughing sound reached his ears.
Roland froze at the sound, his body tensing instantly. His right hand tightened around the sword hilt, his gaze locking onto Leonard in the distance like a hawk's.
The knight had opened his eyes and was struggling to push himself up from the ground, his arms trembling as he supported his weight.
Shing!
Without hesitation, Roland stepped forward, drawing his Mithril Longsword in a swift motion. The blade rested steadily against Leonard's neck.
Yet the knight seemed oblivious to the lethal edge at his throat. He slowly raised his gaze, his eyes drifting across the corpses of Golden Valley Soldiers strewn across the battlefield. A flicker of profound sorrow and regret crossed his face.
"Why did you lead your forces to attack us?" Roland demanded, his voice sharp.
As he spoke, he subtly activated the second-circle spell Zone of Truth.
A faint, nearly imperceptible silver radiance flowed from his feet, rapidly expanding into an invisible ten-foot radius sphere.
The air within the zone thickened slightly, as if bound by a sacred constraint.
The magical glow washed over Leonard's bloodstained armor like flowing water, but his vision, blurred by severe injuries, and his scattered spirit failed to register this subtle shift.
He merely gasped heavily, lifting his head to meet Roland's gaze. His lips moved soundlessly for a moment before he whispered, "It was... Prince Lucius's order."
"Lucius?"
The name conjured an image of a frail, white-haired old man in Roland's mind.
Why would this seemingly indolent prince, who rarely involved himself in state affairs, suddenly issue such an extreme command against an academic exchange party?
It was almost as if...
He deliberately sought to ignite war!
But why?
The Golden Valley Kingdom's Old King Monen was currently leading his armies in a fierce battle against the orcs on the northern frontier.
Due to the machinations of spies, the war situation was already precarious.
To provoke war with the River Domain Nations at such a critical moment would plunge the kingdom into a two-front conflict, guaranteeing its destruction.
As these thoughts raced through Roland's mind, a name suddenly flashed through his consciousness:
Duke Arno!
The powerful minister with undeniable ties to the abyssal creature responsible for the massacre!
Leonard, who had witnessed the abyssal creature' slaughter firsthand, now shared Roland's suspicions.
"It's Duke Arno!"
The knight gritted his teeth, listening to the agonized moans of the Golden Valley soldiers around him, his eyes burning with hatred.
Recalling recent rumors he'd heard from friends, Leonard blurted out, "I've heard... the kingdom's land is already insufficient for distribution."
His voice was hoarse, each word forced out between clenched teeth, carrying suppressed fury and helplessness.
"Many newly appointed nobles hold titles but lack fiefs. Their interests are severely compromised, and their discontent grows daily."
He gasped for breath, the blade at his neck icy against his skin, yet his gaze burned as he stared into the distance, as if piercing through the smoke to discern the conspiracies lurking deep within the royal capital.
"Duke Arno... he must have exploited this situation to advise Prince Lucius to wage war against the River Domain Nations. This would not only quell internal strife but also allow the kingdom—or rather, his faction of nobles—to seize vast new territories and resources."
Roland's brow furrowed even deeper.
The motive sounded plausible, yet it reeked of contrived haste.
To sacrifice nearly a thousand of their own soldiers for a piece of uncertain territory, even resorting to the abyss—a strength clearly concealed until now?
"So, you've become pawns to be sacrificed on his chessboard."
Roland's voice was low and devoid of emotion, yet it sent an involuntary shiver down Leonard's spine.
"A premeditated conflict, a betrayal of allies—all to satisfy the inflated ambitions of the powerful, even resorting to... that kind of thing."
His gaze swept across the land ravaged by abyssal creature.
Leonard closed his eyes in anguish, silently accepting this brutal conclusion.
The resentment and humiliation in his chest threatened to overflow, directed not only at Duke Arno but also at himself.
He had become an instrument of this vile scheme, witnessing firsthand the unimaginable devastation it had wrought.
Leonard took a deep breath, as if summoning his last reserves of strength. He raised his free hand in a gesture of supplication and surrender.
"Lord Roland," he said, his voice hoarse but carrying a desperate resolve. "I beg you... spare my life and the lives of these surviving soldiers. We are not your true enemies. We were merely pawns, deceived and manipulated by political machinations and lies."
(End of the Chapter)
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