Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 92

Odilon de Meizenaf had been deeply seated in his chair, which was now thrown to the ground and dirtied by dust. Under normal circumstances, his attendants would’ve promptly set the chair upright and meticulously wiped it clean. Until just half a moment ago, that was the expected scene.

“Why can’t we strike the Highserk soldiers from the side?!”

In response to Odilon’s irritated question, one of his vassals solemnly spoke up.

“Regrettably, the common soldiers given to Viscount Barnes have fled first, hindering the movements of Lord Dyland’s troops, who went to their aid. It seems the Highserk soldiers didn’t completely kill the fleeing soldiers, but rather attempted to direct them.”

“That fool Barnes!! What’s become of him?!”

Pausing momentarily, the vassal continued.

“He is missing at the supporting castle. It’s likely—”

That seemed incredibly hard to believe, as they were profoundly cornered and had suffered great losses. A ceaseless torrent of grim news was pouring in. Odilon, pushing the existence of the chair aside, had to stand and briskly issue orders.

During a normal preparation period, gathering more soldiers and supplies than the enemy was what brought victory. This basic strategy, mastered by the politically and commercially savvy Odilon, was supposed to be an unshakable truth. Yet now, it was on the verge of collapse.

“Viscount Louisan is being pressed hard. The formation is breaking, and at this rate, Edgar will break through the front!”

“Do whatever it takes to stop them!! Send Baron Fanfahl to support!”

“One of our members, Lord Dyland has been killed in action, and the Highserk soldiers won’t stop!!”

“They’re only 500 soldiers, and Dyland was killed?! What were his accompanying soldiers doing?! Then what are those regular troops for?!”

It was a mistake to have Dyland, one of the main family members, go to aid the remaining soldiers entrusted to Barnes. Odilon deeply regretted it. Amid the azure flames that engulfed the supporting castle, only the Highserk soldiers were reacting correctly to the situation. No, by now, the situation must have been orchestrated. Odilon was convinced of that.

The siege of the supporting castle was reaching its climax, and just as they leaned in too far, a wide-range attack came. The subsequent movements of the Highserk soldiers were also decisive, cutting down the disoriented soldiers without giving them time to regroup and charging all the way to the main camp.

At first glance, it seemed like a suicidal act. Yet, the Highserk soldiers neither slaughtered nor spared the defeated soldiers but instead guided them. While evenly matched, Baron Josh emerged from the supporting castle and advanced in coordination with the Highserk.

It was a move the leader of a faction at odds with the Highserk, like Josh, would never normally make. Reports of dissatisfaction and grievances against the Highserk had been leaking from spies he had infiltrated. But perhaps even that was a deception. As a result, the Meizenaf House was now fiercely attacked from two sides.

Yet, their numbers were still equal, and considering the level of exhaustion, Odilon still had a chance of victory. He continued to think and issue orders.

“A noble from the mercenary group, Lord Orlaine, has returned.”

Orlaine, one of the main family members and an excellent nephew tasked with accurately relaying orders to the somewhat unruly mercenary group and overseeing them, had returned.

“He’s alive, good. He’s back. What happened at the— O… Orlaine?!”

From his youth, Orlaine had supported the Meizenaf family through martial and magical prowess, boasting a robust physique, keen intellect, and abundant magical power, despite his young age. His body was now tragically burned and severely injured.

“Healing mage, what are you doing?! Heal him quickly!”

When urged by Odilon, the accompanying healing mage answered in a frantic tone.

“Lord Odilon, I am healing him as best as I can. Lord Orlaine was in an unspeakable state when he arrived here.”

Odilon was at a loss for words as Orlaine weakly began to speak.

“I led the mercenaries and stormed the supporting castle. We took control of the walls and gates, and with Viscount Barnes, victory should have been certain—until that thing showed his true nature.”

Orlaine, breathless with excitement and fear, continued.

“Don’t strain yourself.”

Odilon reached out to stop him, but his usually understanding nephew brushed his hand aside.

“Uncle, I must speak now.”

“He who wore a demon mask, manifested blue flames and scorching winds across the area. Just that was enough—the soldiers who couldn’t shield themselves with magical barriers were driven into a frenzy by the blue flames and burned to death one after another. Even those trying to fight back perished. Despite Viscount Barnes’s attempts to slay him, both his cavalry and the mercenaries were annihilated. I fled while hearing it—he was laughing. As he engulfed over 200 of our soldiers in fire and carnage, he just laughed. Though my back and legs were seared and burned, I escaped with Barnes, but then Highserk soldiers attacked us.”

After drinking from a water flask handed by the healing mage, Orlaine hurriedly continued his words.

“They were laughing too. They shouted “The Hellfire Beacon, the demon fire, the remnants of the military god—all have returned to us, The Highserk Empire!” That’s where Viscount Barnes was killed, and I, shedding all my armor, blended with the common soldiers to make it back here.”

Hearing the tale of what happened at the supporting castle from his nephew, Odilon, along with his commanders, were left speechless. How fragile even the assertive Orlaine had turned out to be. Yet, the urgency and determination in his words conveyed an undeniable sense of importance.

“I understand. Leave the rest to me. I will take care of the enemy.”

Though not exceptional in martial prowess, Odilon was a nobleman and an influential count in the region. He was intent on avenging his fallen soldiers and clearing his nephew’s regrets. However, unbelievably, it was his nephew who stopped him.

“You must not, Uncle. To repel their fierce attack, to avoid being defeated in detail, we can’t concentrate our troops. If that’s their target and they unleash the azure flame again, everyone will die.”

“Such foolishness…”

“Ah, can you not hear it? That fanatical laughter is approaching. They are coming. Even if I am scorned as a coward, we must retreat now.”

With madness in his eyes, Lord Orlaine was gasping for air, in such a condition that he could die at any moment. With his fingers, burned and fused together, he managed to grasp Odilon’s neck.

“Do you want to end up like this?!”

Locking eyes with his nephew, Odilon saw that there was still intelligence left in those eyes. Despite the shame it brought him, Orlaine had used his remaining intellect to alert Odilon to the danger.

“Lord Orlaine has gone mad!!”

“Put him to sleep, if he moves, he’ll truly die.”

“Let me go! The Meizenaf will burn with those azure flames!”

After struggling violently, Orlaine finally lost consciousness. Fortunately, he was still breathing, and healing mages continued to cast healing magic on him.

Suddenly, Odilon heard laughter. He thought it was an illusion, but it was indeed laughter. It seemed like something was being celebrated, or cursed, and one thing was clear: it was tinged with madness, steadily approaching.

Gathering his retainers, Odilon summarized the latest situation. The battle line had been severely twisted, and although the enemy was also showing signs of fatigue from continuous battle, the Highserk soldiers were still advancing slowly but surely.

Even though the numbers were now equal, the whereabouts of the terrifying magic user who had burned numerous soldiers and the support castle were unknown. It seemed unlikely he could use that level of attack repeatedly, but if used in the correct situation, the damage would be incomparable to just the support castle. Despite being called ghosts of the northern countries, the Highserk soldiers continued to fight tirelessly.

The soldiers of the believed-to-be inferior nation were far more resilient than Meizenaf’s regular troops. The Meizenaf soldiers, frightened by the laughter, had their morale shaken. The northern countries wouldn’t stop until their enemies were destroyed, and as a result, three countries had been annihilated in just one war. Odilon had once mocked them as fools.

Now, engaged in battle, they seemed like a formidable force beyond comprehension. Whether they were engaging in total warfare because they were mad or if they became mad due to total warfare was unclear. Odilon couldn’t determine what was right. Amidst this, the talk of Azure Flame began to spread, affecting the soldiers profoundly even in the midst of combat.

Had Odilon thrown everything aside and reached for victory, the Dalimarcus Alliance, lacking in strength, might have been pushed back. But unlike Edgar and Hadro, who were entranced by the Azure Flame and staked their lives, Odilon found himself trapped in the illusion of Azure Flame at the crucial moment and couldn’t take the risk. The result would soon become evident.

“Viscount Louisan has been captured by the enemy!! Baron Fanfahl has also fled.”

The messenger’s trembling words were heavy. Odilon felt like his whole body was losing strength. Yet, he mustered his words.

“This battle… we have lost.”

With this news, the course of action for the Meizenaf family was decided.

“Let Odilon escape!! Cavalrymen, even at the cost of your lives, deliver him safely back to his domain!”

“We are the rear guard. We will hold back the enemy with as many men as we can, to accompany us in our fate!!”

Meizenaf had lost. It was an indescribable defeat. Odilon twisted his face in humiliation, acknowledging the defeat. Yet, he was not in despair. He must not.

Recovery of military strength, reparations, and bail money—these losses would burden the finances of the Meizenaf house for ten years, maybe more. It would be impossible to initiate battles outside his own territory. However, the Meizenaf family had not perished. Even if Odilon could not launch a revenge battle within his lifetime, he could gather strength and leave it to the next generation to win.

To the retainers who had volunteered to be the rear guard, he expressed his heartfelt apologies. Bringing back as many soldiers as possible and reducing the number of captive family members—this was the duty of a lord defeated in battle.

Translator – Lyxxna