Once Suruna stepped in, the battle of nerves turned into a three-way clash.
Caroline Monarch — seasoned mercenary commander, master of battlefield tactics.
Ambella Burke — the indomitable fortress defender who had never once allowed an enemy to breach her walls.
And Suruna — who had mastered the strategy and art of war accumulated over hundreds of years.
Each was a master in their own right, unmatched in experience and expertise.
Suruna’s intervention was, quite literally, like pouring gasoline onto an already raging fire.
“Yeah, you sure know how to talk,” Ambella spat. “I heard the stories — five hundred years ago, in the Imperial capital, you were the one who sabotaged the World Tree Project, weren’t you?”
Her one remaining eye gleamed with murderous rage as she glared at Suruna.
“They said it failed because of a demon that appeared back then — and you were the one pulling its strings behind the scenes, weren’t you?”
That event had marked the beginning of the downfall of House Plante.
In those days, the old Kingdom — the predecessor to the present Empire — had joined hands with the Plante family to cultivate a World Tree in an underground cavern.
If not for the demon Basara, it would have succeeded.
But the cost of failure had been enormous — unbearable.
House Burke, which had once served as the World Tree’s guardian, was forced to withdraw to the outer defense line. House Plante was annihilated altogether, and the Elven Kingdom suffered long afterward.
For Ambella, the fact that she couldn’t protect her friend Ella had always remained a scar on her heart.
Even if time had dulled the pain, it had never truly disappeared.
Now, standing before the very man responsible — it was a miracle she hadn’t lost control.
Yet Suruna, facing Ambella’s fury, remained completely calm.
“So, you’re trying to pin that failure on me? Whether I’d interfered or not, that project was destined to fail.”
“Damn, even your lies are polished.”
“Believe what you want. But if I hadn’t stopped it, today’s catastrophe would never have happened.”
“That’s your justification for plunging the world into chaos?”
“I already discussed that with Elder Dentis back then,” Suruna replied coolly.
Ambella’s fist tightened, knuckles cracking audibly.
“As the head of a house, you should understand — sometimes, to move forward, you have to cast away morality and conscience.”
“......”
“If you still can’t let go of that anger, I’ll gladly accept your vengeance after this is over. But you’ll have to wait your turn — a lot of people are already lined up.”
Citadel came to mind first.
For centuries, he had watched Suruna work from the shadows, changing bodies again and again — forced to assist the very man he most wanted to kill.
No one here wanted Suruna dead more than he did.
“Do you even feel remorse?”
“I wouldn’t say I don’t.”
Suruna’s tone was firm, unapologetic.
“But regret or not, I did what had to be done.”
“If it weren’t for you, House Plante would still exist.”
“And the entire world would be slaves to Lumenis.”
Suruna turned to Sedina.
“Sedina Roshen — no, Sedina Plante. I do owe you an apology. What happened to your mother, I share part of that blame. And the man who doomed your house — Ventmin of House Lifray — made a deal with me.”
Sedina had joined the Black Dawn Society without knowing any of this, rising to the position of Second Order.
In hindsight, it was a cruel twist of fate.
“Even if you hate me, that’s fine. You have every right to. Do you want to kill me, too?”
“Maybe I once did,” Sedina admitted quietly.
But her answer carried nuance.
“Once did?”
“Yes. The old me would have. But not anymore.”
Sedina could now resonate with the World Tree — she could hear its will.
And though her mother existed now only as a spirit, they had been reunited.
“If those events hadn’t happened, my mother would’ve stayed in the Elven Kingdom. She never would’ve met my father. And I never would’ve been born.”
Ella Plante, after the failure, had blamed no one.
She had even felt a kind of freedom in leaving House Plante behind.
“It wasn’t a good thing, no. But in a way, that chain of tragedy led to my parents meeting — and to me being born.”
“...I see.”
“I’m not saying what you did was right. And I’m not thankful for it. But I won’t hate you either. I’ve done my share of wrongs too, even if they were for the wrong reasons.”
Everyone listened intently to Sedina’s words.
“Hating each other, tearing each other down... I’m not in a position to judge anyone for that. I’ve made mistakes too. But I’m trying to be better. No— I am getting better.”
Her clear eyes met Suruna’s.
Not as Second Order and Zero Order — but as Sedina Plante and Suruna.
“So now, I’ll fight alongside you. Whether I once hated you or not doesn’t matter. This is the right thing to do.”
Her words made both Ambella and Caroline lower their guard.
If Sedina could say this, then perhaps their own prideful hostility had been childish.
“Yeah. Whatever the past was, now’s the time to stand together.”
Caroline shrugged.
“Well, you’re both older than me, so I’ll trust you’ve got some wisdom I don’t. Let’s give it everything we’ve got.”
“Tch. Guess there’s no helping it.”
As the mood suddenly shifted toward reconciliation, Sedina blinked in confusion and glanced at Ludger.
He gave her a small nod — well done.
It hadn’t been her intention, but thanks to Sedina, the tension that had threatened to crush the room had dissolved.
“Whatever the past held, let’s put it aside — at least for now. We’re bound together by fate.”
Ludger stepped in to seal the truce.
“This battle will be dangerous — unlike anything before or after.”
He looked over everyone gathered around him.
Each had come for a different reason — to repay a debt, to serve a cause, or simply to help a friend.
But they all shared one thing in common:
None of them had come here to die.
“I have only one thing to say — don’t die. If you think you’re going to, then run. There’s no shame in that. Don’t throw your life away for someone else. Live for yourself.”
“Hey, Professor, that’s a bit much. There’s nowhere to run on the battlefield,” Caroline said wryly.
But Ludger’s expression didn’t waver.
“Then hold the line. Stall them by any means necessary. Just endure — and I’ll handle the rest.”
His voice carried a confidence that banished fear.
He didn’t speak of uncertainty or loss — only of victory.
It was as if he already held the key to winning this war.
And somehow, everyone believed him. The lingering unease melted away.
“They call this war a holy crusade to purge evil,” Ludger said, his gaze fixed toward the faraway continent beyond the sea.
“But for us, it’s something else entirely. A struggle. Not sacred, not noble — just a fight to survive. That’s our war.”
* * *
Since the start of the crusade, near the shores of the Holy Nation of Bretus—
The fleet of airships that had filled the skies was forced to retreat after encountering unexpected turbulence.
“At this rate, we can’t even approach the target.”
The continental command center was thrown into confusion by the report.
With the enemy entrenched in Galahad Fortress, their plan to annihilate them with superior aerial firepower had collapsed in an instant.
“What is happening out there?”
“Over two thousand airships grounded by turbulence? That’s absurd!”
“It’s no ordinary turbulence, sir. Winds as strong as a typhoon — any closer and we could’ve lost the entire aerial division.”
“Yes, the weather around Bretus is known to be unstable, but never enough to stop an airfleet.”
“Exactly. And according to our naval scouts, the sea is perfectly calm. Almost unnaturally so.”
“It must be the Demon King’s witchcraft!”
Of course — Heathcliff’s doing. Who else could summon such an unnatural storm over holy land?
Though the commanders fumed at the Demon King’s treachery, rage alone wouldn’t solve the problem.
“For now, we should abandon aerial deployment.”
“What, already? Shouldn’t we try again?”
“If the Demon King truly conjured this storm, we can’t predict how long it’ll last. Keeping our fleet grounded indefinitely would cripple us.”
“So you’re suggesting we play into his hand?”
“They’re doing this because they know they’d lose ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ otherwise. Given that the sea remains calm, I’d wager the spell has some kind of trade-off.”
“That makes sense. If it were a true typhoon, the ocean would be raging too. But it’s not.”
Plans were hastily redrawn.
In truth, it didn’t require much thought.
Even with their air units blocked, the crusaders still had overwhelming numbers.
They would simply march in and crush the enemy with sheer firepower.
“Though... bombardment might be tricky.”
“Hmm. Destroying the fortress in one strike would be ideal, but His Holiness wouldn’t approve.”
“So, we’ll just restrain the artillery a bit. It won’t matter — we’ll still overwhelm them by numbers alone.”
“The only concern is the waterways. The terrain isn’t ideal for large-scale unit movement. The fortress is surrounded by multiple moats as well.”
“That’s only an issue for rabble. We’ll send in our elite knights.”
“No problem, then. Especially with the Continent’s Strongest Sword on our side — and priestly support, this should be an easy victory.”
Even with their sky route sealed, they did not despair.
It was unexpected, yes, but not unthinkable when fighting the Demon King.
“The real question is whether we can even land.”
“Indeed. They’re not fools — they’ll have defenses along the coast.”
And yet—
The commanders’ concerns proved unfounded.
“What the hell is this?”
The soldiers who landed on the coast near the third checkpoint city of Bretus found themselves baffled.
No enemy in sight.
No ambush.
The port and the third checkpoint city beyond it were utterly deserted.
They had expected fierce resistance, grueling combat — but this?
“Any traps?”
“None.”
“No movement, no magical signatures — nothing. It’s completely empty.”
The abandoned third checkpoint city looked like a ghost town.
Some reports had claimed that black waves had swept through here, like the end of the world — but there was no trace of it now.
Had it all been an illusion?
Another trick of the Demon King Heathcliff?
Clueless and wary, the crusaders advanced slowly.
And when they finally entered the third checkpoint city, they realized — there really were no traps. No ambush.
The tension broke.
“Did they run away?”
“Figures. The whole continent’s united here — what could the Demon King do?”
“This might be easier than we thought.”
Some even joked lightly, earning sharp glares from their commanders.
“Enough chatter. We’ve only just landed. Galahad Fortress is still ahead. Stay alert.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Scout the area. They said the second checkpoint city was completely destroyed — confirm that report.”
Setting up a temporary camp, the soldiers departed from the third checkpoint to investigate the second.
And then— they stopped.
“W-what is that...?”
Before them loomed a massive wall — a towering barrier of enormous, razor-sharp thorned vines.