Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Episode 57

“Please, have mercy! Forgive my stupidity!”

The elder of the Black Tower, a sixth-circle dark mage, knelt and begged. Throughout the continent, high-ranking mages trembled, not daring to resist.

“I beg you! Please!”

A former commander of the Eighth Division of the Black Order, a dark mage who conducted all kinds of experiments in pursuit of the truth. A radical who rejected the Black Duke’s regime and did not hesitate to become a monster of truth.

That very “Demon Commander” was now on his knees, begging.

Before a man who had turned his back on the darkness of the old era, choosing to be bound by trivial morality.

“Are you seeking my mercy?”

the man asked.

“Please, have mercy! I swear eternal loyalty to you! Please, please…!”

“Do you remember what you did to my son?”

After a pause, the Black Duke asked, his face devoid of any emotion.

“I, I… I…”

He had secretly allied with the Red Tower, crossing the Saxon River to provide information to the Purifiers. He had informed them that Dale would lead his cavalry in a separate action. The old man laughed bitterly as he thought about it.

He knew there was no chance this man would show him mercy.

However, he had no intention of resisting or fighting in vain.

As an elder of the Black Tower, he understood the weight of the Black Duke’s name better than anyone.

Even knowing this, he laughed at his own stupidity for daring to ally with the Red Tower.

“…Right, there is no way you would show mercy.”

He murmured weakly.

“Black Duke, do you think there is any hypocrite more despicable than you?”

And, with nothing to lose, he hurled insults.

“Second commander of the Black Order. How many prisoners were sacrificed for your ‘experiments’ there? How much blood was spilled to open the door?”

The true purpose of the Black Order, which the Empire desperately tried to hide.

“The real monster is you.”

“……”

“Do you think you can escape your past?”

The Black Duke remained silent.

“Would your son still be proud of his father if he saw your true self? Ah, but as the son of a monster, perhaps he would!”

“The Reaper.”

After a long silence, the Black Duke finally spoke. A black aura formed around his feet, taking shape.

The Reaper, cloaked in a robe of darkness.

A shadow loomed under the hood, but it was not a shadow. It was an unfathomable darkness twisting beneath the hood.

“Black Duke, you are the real monster! A monster that we, the insignificant, cannot even imitate!”

The Reaper’s arms, made of darkness, wielded a scythe. The Reaper. The herald of a storm of purifying blood.

Shortly thereafter, the eldest son of the Saxon family returned safely to the Duchy of Saxon.

As always, stories about his exploits at the Imperial Academy spread by word of mouth among the gossips.

Just as the bloody storm of purges, in the name of the Lord of the Black Tower, swept through the duchy.

Saxon Ducal Castle.

“Dale!”

Hearing the familiar voice of a young woman calling him, Dale turned around. A girl dressed in black armor stood there, fully armed. She wore a double-edged sword custom-made for the Saxon family.

It seemed she had been training diligently day and night.

—Charlotte.

“Yes, welcome back.”

Charlotte smiled warmly, as if she had been anxiously waiting for Dale’s return.

“How is your sword training going?”

“Well, it’s going well!”

Charlotte nodded confidently, and Dale laughed softly at the sight.

“Why, why are you laughing?”

“Just because.”

After laughing, Dale continued nonchalantly.

“I’m glad to see you again.”

“Ugh…!”

Charlotte’s tongue tied, and she closed her mouth at the unexpected compliment.

“What’s wrong? Did you bite your tongue?”

“N-no, it’s nothing!”

“Well, then that’s fine.”

Dale replied indifferently, not realizing that her face had turned red as a tomato under the black helmet.

“Ugh, seriously… dummy.”

“Why am I a dummy?”

“Because you are, dummy!”

The girl’s heart filled more each day with love for the boy she liked.

As usual, when Dale appeared where the Night Raven Knights were training, the knights knelt and drove their swords into the ground.

“Welcome, Lord Dale!”

Among the Night Raven Knights dressed in black armor, a familiar face greeted Dale.

“Sir Yones.”

“Lord Dale!”

“Is your sword training going well?”

At Dale’s question, the Night Raven Knight instructing Sir Yones bowed his head.

“His talent is exceptional, and his skills are improving rapidly.”

The knight, who had reached the level of Aura Knight, praised Sir Yones without reservation, which led him to bow again to Dale.

“All thanks to you, Lord Dale.”

“Good. And is the mercenaries’ training going well, too?”

“Rest assured, my men are doing very well!”

Sir Yones answered confidently. The hundred mercenaries under his command shared a camaraderie similar to brotherhood.

Thus, they were provided with a place to stay within the duchy and received training from the knights, which ensured they did not neglect their skills.

While Dale was at the Imperial Academy, after the great demon migration, the time came to evaluate their growth under the tutelage of the Night Raven Knights.

A mercenary company of about one hundred men.

It was a formidable force under Dale’s command, and the only task left was to ensure they were ready.

Wandering homeless, fighting endless battles.

The romanticized idea of the mercenary is, in reality, a fanciful illusion.

As the second son of a minor noble family, Sir Yones had wandered the continent as a hedge knight with only a sword.

It is no wonder that mercenaries often dream of “returning home safe and sound.” The reality of their idealized life is usually bleak.

In this sense, the opportunity Dale offered Sir Yones’s mercenary company was nothing short of a miracle.

A personal bodyguard to the eldest son of the Saxon Duke.

The pay was generous and they were provided with a place to stay, in addition to systematic training by the Night Raven Knights, recognized as the best on the continent.

Not every soldier on the battlefield could be equipped with the shining black armor of the Night Raven Knights and receive top-tier training. But Dale had the power to make it possible.

“Welcome, my lord!”

“Now call me captain.”

“Ha, ha, understood! Captain!”

“Salute the captain!”

Sir Yones’s mercenaries lacked the strict discipline and ironclad rules of the Saxon knights. However, Dale appreciated their informal demeanor. Especially after a few drinks.

“And this is now the vice-captain.”

“Of course!”

The feelings the company of one hundred mercenaries held for Dale were indescribable.

Sir Yones gladly accepted the position of vice-captain, and the mercenaries knelt before their new captain, Saxon’s Dale.

No, they were now respectable heavy infantry, loyal to the eldest son of the Saxon Duke.

“Alright.”

Even for Dale, it was impossible to provide warhorses to all one hundred soldiers. But a well-trained heavy infantry company of one hundred men was no less intimidating on the battlefield.

“Are you training hard?”

Thus spoke Dale.

The meaning of the eldest son of the Saxon Duke taking them as his own. There was give and take. And the invaluable things Dale offered them were not given for free.

“We are pushing them to the limit.”

replied the knight in charge of the mercenaries’ training.

“Good.”

Not for the Saxon Duke, but only for Dale. There were those among the Night Raven Knights who would act in his name. But that changed nothing.

“After all that hard training, it’s time to take action, isn’t it?”

“Leave it in our hands, my lord!”

“We are eager to enter combat!”

Growing “Dale’s forces” along with what he had been granted as the eldest son of the Saxon Duke was a task that could not be neglected.

“I am thinking of embarking on a new adventure.”

Dale’s organization, Dale’s people.

The hundred “men-at-arms” here were just the beginning.

From basic combat operations to strategy and tactics, and even intelligence activities. A cerebral and combat agency that could intervene in operations and exercise supreme command.

They were not just a mercenary company wasting their potential. A military organization capable of comprehensively managing the vast demands of clients who wished to carry out warlike actions.

War Inc.

Becoming the premier private military company (PMC) on the continent.

That night.

The sun, leaning toward the western sky, had gradually darkened to an intense shade of purple.

Dale was inspecting the training of the heavy infantry unit, reflecting on what to call his division.

“Ah, there you are.”

A voice unfamiliar to him broke the silence. He turned his head.

“You’ve returned from the capital sooner than expected.”

“……”

A blond boy was silhouetted against the burning twilight.

“And who are you?”

Judging by his age, he didn’t seem much older or much younger than Dale.

“My name is Ray. Ray Eurys, the eldest son of the Marquis of Eurys.”

“…!”

Dale’s breath hitched for a moment.

The son of the Bloody Marquis, heir to the Red Tower.

The Marquis of Eurys was not married, but rumors of an “illegitimate son” were not unknown to Dale.

“Nice to meet you.”

Furthermore, Ray Eurys was not known for any notable achievements, unlike Saxon’s Dale. His name was rarely mentioned, shrouded in ominous silence. However, no one from the Red Tower dared to deny that Ray was indeed the heir.

“Do you need something?”

Dale asked cautiously, without lowering his guard.

—Lord Dale of Saxon.

Ray spoke with a smile.

“Son of the Black Duke, heir to the Black Tower.”

He continued, echoing the reputation of the “Black Prince” that circulated among the gossips.

“……”

“May I humbly ask for advice from the one who is acclaimed as the greatest genius of the empire?”

Chapter 57