Artillery roared, spitting fire and smoke as the siege crews in the rear worked frantically. Their objective was clear: to shatter the Holy Kingdom’s protective barrier. Inquisitor-General Nepers scowled as catapults launched another volley of massive stones.

The barrier, woven from hundreds of layers of divine magic, held firm for now, but under the constant bombardment, it would inevitably crumble. ‘That fool Criobel,’ Nepers fumed internally. ‘What was he thinking, agreeing to this kind of standoff?’

Even during the demon invasion, Criobel’s clumsy deployments had allowed the enemy to breach the hills. Though the High Priest held command of this war as well, Nepers found the entire strategy deeply flawed.

“May the blessing of Behel be with us!” a Holy Knight cried.

“Damn Holy Knights!” an Imperial soldier roared back. “Let’s see if you can still praise your god when you’re dead!”

“The shield bearers are advancing! Everyone, cast your blessings!”

“Hold the line! Do not break formation!”

At the front, Holy Knights and Imperial shield bearers were locked in a brutal stalemate that had already dragged on for four days. The Peshant Empire, sustained by a steady stream of supplies, was methodically chipping away at the barrier’s durability. A long war was disadvantageous for the Empire, but at this rate, the Holy Kingdom’s Divinity would be exhausted by the seventh day.

‘They still haven’t committed their knight orders or cavalry,’ Nepers thought, his grip tightening on his hammer. ‘If we deploy our high priests first, we’ll be at an even greater disadvantage.’

The relentless waves of enemy soldiers were taking their toll, leaving his own troops drained and exhausted. With a roar, Nepers charged to the front lines himself.

“Hyaah!”

His Judgement Hammer, swung with devastating force, crashed down among the shield bearers. The ground shook, and the soldiers staggered, their line faltering. Nepers swung again and again, a one-man bulwark against their advance. Suddenly, a blade shot forward like a flash of light.

‘Clang!’

Nepers parried, his eyes locking onto the eagle crest emblazoned on his opponent’s helmet. It was Karen Deike, commander of the Imperial forces and head of his house. He pressed his attack with masterful skill, his sword a blur of motion. Nepers focused, reading the path of the blade and deflecting each strike.

“So the rumors are true,” Nepers grunted. “You have reached the transcendent level.”

“A recent achievement,” Karen replied, his voice cool. “What do you think? Is my sword sharp enough to reach your precious Behel?”

“Grr! How dare you speak His holy name!” Nepers snarled. “Unforgivable!”

“Then fight me properly!”

The very earth seemed to crack around them. The Inquisitor-General, wielder of a fraction of his god’s power, against the Commander, a master of the Deike family’s swordsmanship who had ascended to a new realm of power. They traded blows, each searching for an opening, neither giving an inch. But the duel was a stalemate.

Ultimately, Nepers was the first to fall back. He gritted his teeth, the hand gripping his hammer still trembling from the force of their exchange.

“I will crush you,” he vowed. “Mark my words.”

“I’ll be watching,” Karen retorted calmly. “But shouldn’t you be going? Your barrier’s Divinity is looking rather thin.”

“Grrgh! Just you wait!” Nepers roared, turning to aid the beleaguered Holy Knights. He would have to unleash his god’s authority to wipe out the spearmen and footsoldiers.

Seeing his opening, Karen Deike calmly ordered his troops to retreat, minimizing his losses. He then returned to Jebelin Fortress to prepare for the next engagement.

—

In any comparison of military strength between the Ain Kart Holy Kingdom and the Peshant Empire, any sane person would choose the latter. The Empire’s forces were that formidable. With Karen Deike at the helm, their morale was at an all-time high. If this all-out war continued, the Holy Kingdom would have no choice but to fall back into a defensive siege.

‘He joined this war to make a name for himself,’ Gelix mused. ‘This is his first major campaign since inheriting his title. This war is everything to him.’

The Deike territories were flourishing. He had already secured a powerful position in politics and now held the rank of commander. Failure was not an option.

‘A knight who has personally reached the transcendent level. It would be a damn shame if someone like that were to just… die.’

Without an heir, the death of the family head would mean the immediate collapse of House Deike. Gelix lit a cigarette and unfurled a map. Thanks to the captured soldier, he had a rough idea of the supply routes and camp layout. The only question was how to lure his target out. He had Chanhee’s dungeon soldiers on standby, but a single misstep could expose their position.

“How long are we going to wait?” Chanhee whined. “If you’re going to do something, just do it!”

“Shut up and wait,” Gelix snapped. “A young punk with no patience is useless.” He clicked his tongue.

“It’s been hours, you damn bastard!”

Chanhee’s scowling was irrelevant. The supply routes were all that mattered now. After a moment of consideration, Gelix made his decision.

“Hmph. This should do,” he said to himself. “After four days of observation, the fourth supply unit—the one that comes through Twailin Valley—is the perfect target.”

“What are you muttering about? If you’ve made a decision, let’s go!”

“My, what an irritating child.”

“I’m the one who’s irritated!”

—

‘Day 1 of the Plan.’

The Peshant Empire operated four distinct supply units, each with different schedules and routes, all heavily guarded. Gelix had chosen to target the fourth unit, which traveled through Twailin Valley. The reasoning was simple: its security was comparatively lax, and the steep mountain paths on either side were ideal for an ambush.

‘Clip-clop. Clip-clop.’

As expected, a carriage laden with supplies appeared on the path. The guards fanned out, scouting the immediate area, but without proper recon, the dense mountain forests remained a blind spot.

“You have soldiers that aren’t undead, right?” Gelix sent to Chanhee. “Make them attack from the front. They’ll be mistaken for wild monsters.”

“Why bother? We could just kill them all and burn the carriage.”

“Do that, and they’ll know it was dungeon soldiers. And who’s the most likely suspect in the south? You. The Hollamont Dungeon. If you’re in a hurry to die, be my guest.”

“I’d rather diiiie than let that happen! Grrr. Fine! I’ll do it your way!”

While the Hollamont Dungeon’s army consisted mainly of undead, Chanhee had summoned a few low-grade beasts for this very purpose. With a grimace, he deployed his Blue Bear Soldiers.

“Kuaaargh!”

“Grrroooowl!”

A dozen massive bears crashed out of the woods. The soldiers reacted quickly, moving to intercept what they thought were wild animals. But these Blue Bears were all over level 50. The Imperial soldiers stood no chance.

“Keuk!”

“Aaaargh!”

“R-run! This is no ordinary—urk!”

The supply escort was annihilated in seconds. The bears tore into the corpses with savage roars. All that remained was to destroy the supply carriage, but Gelix stopped them. He had the bears leave claw marks on the wood and other signs of an animal attack, but they were not to touch the cargo.

“H-hey,” Chanhee stammered. “Aren’t we going to destroy the supplies?”

“There’s no need to reveal our hand just yet,” Gelix explained patiently. “First, we make them increase security. We slowly draw their eyes to this location.”

“Wait a minute! That means they’ll eventually figure out it’s my dungeon! Are you tricking me?!”

“Tricking you? What would I possibly gain? Taehyun Yoo will handle the fallout. Now shut up and do as you’re told.”

The contract was absolute. Taehyun’s word was law. On the verge of tears, Chanhee obediently complied.

—

‘Day 3 of the Plan.’

After the “wild bear” attack, security on the supply routes had been significantly tightened. Reinforcements from the main army had yet to arrive, but they had successfully drawn some attention. Gelix noted the addition of knights to the escort with satisfaction.

“That’s enough for the fourth unit. Time to move.”

“Do whatever you want,” Chanhee mumbled, his voice hollow. “Whaaaatever you waaaant.”

“Tsk, tsk’. He’s finally lost it,” Gelix muttered.

Chanhee was becoming more pathetic by the minute, but the plan was impossible without him. Gelix hurried them to the third supply unit’s route. Fortunately, its carriage came into view, its schedule similar to the fourth’s. This path was a steep uphill climb rather than a valley, but it was still flanked by dense mountain terrain.

“Kuhuhuhung!”

“Damn it! Wild bears! To arms!”

“Kuhung!”

“D-don’t fall back! It’s just a bear!”

The third unit, more complacent than the fourth, was utterly wiped out. The Blue Bears once again feasted on the corpses with grim satisfaction. Meanwhile, Gelix consulted his map, calculating the arrival times of the other units.

“The first unit has already passed. That leaves the second. Hurry.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir,” Chanhee droned.

The supply routes were far apart, but with relocation magic and mobile soldiers, distance wasn’t an issue. That day, Gelix and Chanhee annihilated the second and third supply units, methodically tightening the noose.

—

“Over the last seven days, we’ve had more than thirty instances of supply units being wiped out,” reported Bisque, Karen’s staff officer. “The soldiers claim they were wild monster attacks, but the situation is highly suspicious.”

He spread a map across the table, marked with the routes and estimated times of each attack. The sheer number of casualties was far too high for random animal encounters. Furthermore, no matter how intelligent, a wild beast couldn’t possibly know the precise supply schedules. Karen Deike gazed across the Behel Grand Bridge toward the enemy fortress of Partisan, then nodded slowly.

“It is suspicious,” he agreed. “Dispatch knights and scouts to investigate the area.”

“Understood.”

As Bisque left the tent, Karen reviewed the casualty reports, his thoughts turning to the supplies. ‘I was certain we had cleared the surrounding area of monsters when we took Jebelin Fortress. For wild bears to be attacking our supply lines in the middle of a war…’

Food and materiel were their lifeblood. Having pushed so deep into enemy territory, they could not afford to lose their supply lines. The cargo itself remained untouched, but as Bisque had said, it was strange. Karen picked up the map, cross-referencing attack times with the various routes.

‘Is someone orchestrating these attacks? The reports say wild bears, but it could be dungeon soldiers. I’ll monitor the situation until the next attack, then decide whether to alter the schedules.’

He couldn’t afford to be distracted by a dungeon while at war with the Holy Kingdom. Pushing the matter aside, Karen Deike began to don his armor, preparing for the next battle.

—

‘Day 8 of the Plan.’

Scouts moved through the undergrowth. The full-scale search had begun; knights and reconnaissance patrols were now visible everywhere.

[A-rank Named Guardian Papun the Transparent is casting a Stealth Shield.]

[All beings within the shield will become invisible for a set duration.]

Hidden within the shimmering barrier, Gelix and Chanhee held their breath. They waited until the patrols moved on before sighing in relief and rising to their feet.

“Now what?” Chanhee hissed. “They’ve sent knights, not just scouts! They definitely know something’s wrong!”

“Stop panicking,” Gelix said, his voice laced with annoyance. “It’s distracting. This was all part of the plan.”

An unnatural spike in monster attacks was bound to raise suspicion, even if the high command was focused on the Holy Kingdom. Gelix took a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling from his lips.

“It’s about time we made a real scene,” he said, a cruel smile touching his lips. “Shall we turn things upside down?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep