Chapter 278

Chapter 278 - Shadow Legion (1)

"Why hasn't Count Mayer departed yet?"

"If you want to fight that much, why don't you leave first?"

"Ahem! I am a comrade-in-arms who fought alongside His Excellency and a guest who received his hospitality, so shouldn't I naturally repay him with my sword?"

"Tsk, tsk, making excuses."

Despite pressing Eugene, the existing guests and the newly arrived nobles had no intention of leaving the Moving Castle. Everyone was curious about how the legendary magic castle crossed the world.

-I, I am not a spy! I swear!

-Stop lying. Better think of your last words before you hang on the gallows.

-It's the truth! I am just an adven...

-Adven? Adven what?

-An adventurer who received a commission from Emperor Gaius to search for the Moving Castle! If you just send one letter to the adventurer's guild in the capital, they will verify my identity...

-So you're a collaborator? Hang this bastard.

-Please spare me! Pleeaaase!

During the early stages of the civil war, quite a few adventurers caught operating in the noble faction's territory were trying to find the Moving Castle. There were also many cases where real spies made such excuses to save their lives.

Because that damn tyrant was so desperately searching for it, their curiosity couldn't help but amplify.

"If we stay here, His Excellency the Count will deliver us straight to the battlefield, so why march?"

"I have blisters on my soles. I don't want to walk anymore."

"The fodder here is amazing. My horse was a bit skinny and lacking energy, but it regained its vitality in an instant!"

Of course, there were also many who wanted to stay for other reasons.

* * *

"Good. The last landscape cavalryman has returned. Close the gates."

A Dwarf guard captain warmly welcomed the dust and sweat-covered tribe rider with ice water. He is an unarmed scout carrying only painting tools and paper.

"You worked hard. Hurry and report to the Count and rest."

"Damn it. Am I the last one?"

"Even if you arrived earlier, we wouldn't have been able to depart because of the new family members' training."

"Eh? New family members?"

The landscape cavalry, as the name suggests, are light cavalry who paint landscapes. They are a group specially created by Eugene to assist in the Moving Castle's teleportation.

Technicians and warriors. They could be called the only permitted professional artists in the Blackhand Tribe, where one could normally only choose between those two.

In peacetime, they paint to their heart's content as artists, but in wartime, they are drafted to take on the heavy responsibility of scouting and painting the intended teleportation sites in advance.

"Wow. This painting is really..."

"Is this what they call a spitting image?"

The Dwarf guards couldn't hold back their admiration. Because they had pondered over paintings tailored to Eugene's taste, a hyper-realistic painting style far ahead of its time began to emerge.

A few hours later. The inside of the castle suddenly became noisy as the nobles who had finished their audience with Eugene returned.

"It's finally starting."

"Centurions are to report after checking their respective personnel. Call in everyone on the roofs and balconies too..."

The busily moving knights and mercenaries stopped dead in their tracks. Because Eugene's will, which swept the entire castle like a wave, pierced everyone's soul.

[We will depart soon. Everyone take shelter inside the castle.]

In addition to Eugene's command, it was an echo compressing several images into a single mass. The sight of all natural disasters physically possible before and after teleportation sweeping the castle's surface seeped into everyone's minds.

What if someone was outside the Moving Castle when the teleportation occurred? They would become no different from an ant dropped into a fire typhoon.

The same realization enlightened the guests all over the castle, riding the wave.

"Wow. This is the first time I've seen a restroom that doesn't smell. It's amazing. Right?"

"I heard the liquid trickling below is something like digestive fluid. They say it melts everything as it passes, so it never gets clogged or smells."

"I thought calling it a living castle was just a metaphor, but this is really... Hmm?"

"Huh?"

The mercenaries who were coming out after using the first flush toilet.

"Make sure there's no one below, alright?"

"Leave it to me. Sir."

"Good. This time for sure!"

The nobles who were holding a hunting competition on the roof, aiming at passing birds with bows.

"..."

"..."

Thud, thud.

Rumble.

Without a single word, leaving only the sound of footsteps, everyone moved to their quarters. Even those who were enjoying a nap stuck in corners woke up simultaneously and came down.

This was the reason why there had never been a single accident related to teleportation in this vast castle.

"Sir Knight! Look over there!"

Meanwhile, there were also those who arrived late due to battles and looting elsewhere.

Rumble.

A sight where unnatural dark clouds gathered immensely in the dry sky, with lightning swirling between them. It was a surreal spectacle that made even those without faith seek God.

Crackle!

Bzzzt!

Strangely, lightning struck but thunder did not roar. The Moving Castle, accepting the lightning as if communicating with a world beyond the dark clouds, was coated in a pure white light.

Flash!!!

A single majestic bolt of lightning surged, and the massive castle disappeared in an instant.

"So that's how it moves! It's literally a castle riding on lightning!"

"Indeed, it's no wonder the tyrant searched for it with bloodshot eyes."

"W-Wait a minute!"

Those who witnessed the spectacle of a lifetime belatedly realized that a powerful aftermath was sweeping towards them.

This place was a wasteland where not a single drop of water or blade of grass could be found. The storm created by the aftermath of the teleportation swallowed a massive amount of sand, becoming a brown curtain tens of meters high, and was sweeping towards the onlookers.

"Uwaaah!"

"Run! Get away from here right now!"

Neigh!

Despite desperately running and whipping their horses, they were all swept away by the sandstorm and rolled over and over.

"Ptooey, ptooey!"

"Cough! Cough!"

Still, no one died and they gained another story to tell, so could it be called a stroke of luck in misfortune?

* * *

An army holding black banners marches. The only remaining legacy among the dozens of legions established by the ancient kingdom. The final legion advanced to the Rein River alongside the Imperial army.

They sang a military song togAAether, not a single syllable changed since the 2nd Age.

⌜We are the Shadow Legion.

When called, we go.

No matter what is there.

Countless armies fell and cursed us.

But curses cannot kill men.

Only blades and courage kill men.

We are men who are the best at both.

We like killing monsters.

Because even their corpses bring money.

We also like killing champions.

Because someone has to do it.

Invaders coveting our motherland.

Fear the black banner.

We too once had a coat of arms.

It swallowed countless enemy banners and lost its light one by one.

All that remains is a hungry black sea.

Your banner too shall become a part of us.

We are the Shadow Legion.

When called, we go.

No matter what is there.⌟

In the front ranks of the Shadow Legion is the vanguard composed of youths. Armed with black spears with alloy shafts and rectangular scuta, they also carry two pila on their backs.

They wear scale armor made of overlapping iron plates to catch arrows and spears in the front ranks. Despite wearing heavy gear, the young legionaries show not a single sign of fatigue.

In the middle ranks is the assault fOrce composed of older veterans. Armed with gladii and round iron shields, they charge into the enemy lines crushed by the vanguard and cavalry to finish them off.

These men wrapped their entire bodies in chainmail padded with slash-resistant materials. Thanks to this, their movements were nimble, and they displayed outstanding individual tactics by balancing physical ability with abundant experience.

In the rear ranks is the death squad composed of the most senior veterans. It is a tradition for them to write a will upon joining, and they are the continent's best heavily armored infantry, entirely equipped with transitional armor.

These old warriors, who do not carry shields, are ready to sacrifice their lives at any time to send their two junior ranks back home.

'If the Shadow Legion Death Squad and the Eastern Empire Immortals fight, who would win?'

This VS debate had continued for hundreds of years among both mercenaries and knights, but a matchup had never occurred.

A large number of knights are deployed on both wings. This is because there is a constant stream of recruits bewitched by glory and success from knightly houses spread across Roman, including the capital.

Because they march waving black cloaks and holding black lances high in the sky, they are also known by the alias of the Black Knights. The Shadow Legion is the world's only army maintaining a standing fOrce of hundreds of mounted knights.

And there are the commanding centurions deployed at the century level. They are unconditionally elected by the legionaries' vote, and their appointment is completed when the King of Roman personally places a helmet on them.

The helmets adorned with horizontal, colorful feather crests are called the suns of the legion. They are the best infantry commanders of this era.

The Roman Art of War, which binds the field tactics researched and acquired by centurions of dozens of legions during the ancient kingdom era into one. They are the assault captains who understand it best.

Behind the elite fOrce consisting of 6,000 combatants total, an equal number of auxiliary troops consisting of combat engineers, slingers, and light cavalry follows.

The Rein River finally began to appear in their eyes. The Imperial faction fOrces deployed in the south had gathered and established a beachhead to a considerable level.

* * *

Meanwhile, the noble faction army advancing northward from south of the Rein River was also formidable. If one considered combat power per capita, they might fall behind the Imperial faction, hardened by countless real battles, but these people had numbers.

"Thank you for taking the difficult step to stand against the tyrant. Duke Leray."

"I couldn't help but admire the grand strategy that dried out the enemies since the early days of the civil war. It is truly regrettable that Duke Robert suffered an unfortunate defeat due to the clamoring of hasty nobles."

The representatives of the Western Allied FOrces and the Southern Allied FOrces shook hands warmly.

With the two most populous regions in Roman, no, the Western continent, uniting, their numbers were at a level that easily overwhelmed the Imperial army.

"Come on! Nothing to be scared of! You just have to cut down one guy for every three of us."

"If you can't even handle 3 on 1, does it make sense to make a living eating off your sword?"

Mercenary captains who came up from Samur and the peninsula encouraged their subordinates. However, even the inexperienced recruits showed no particular signs of fear. Because the sheer volume of allies swarming everywhere they looked instilled courage in them.

"It would have been troublesome if the enemies had held out holding the castle. Fortunately, they retreated to the Rein River on their own. Thanks to that, we were able to reassemble the army through the persuasion of the southern nobles who reclaimed their territories. It's all thanks to Duke Leray."

"Please thank Count Mayer, not me. It's because he cut off their core supply route that the enemies couldn't hold out in the castle. Even this would have been impossible without Duke Robert's clean retreat."

One of the most important tasks for a retreating army is not handing over supplies to the enemy.

-Take everything you can carry, and burn the rest completely!

Because it was winter after the harvest, not a single grain of the stockpiled food fell into the hands of the Imperial army. Successfully executing scOrched-earth tactics while soothing various nobles amidst defeat and retreat was also a tremendous feat.

"Your Highness Robert. An envoy from the Apostolic State has arrived. They say they pray for an end to Gaius's tyranny and for peace to come to this land. They asked us to tell them anytime if we need the martial support of the Holy Warriors."

"Treat them hospitably but draw a line. I will personally convey our refusal later."

Duke Leray, who was listening, was puzzled.

"Why not accept them too? If it's a food issue, there's nothing to worry about. What we brought is plenty for half a year. Count Mayer will also arrive soon."

The combat power of the Holy Warriors tempered by faith was too precious to give up. Then Robert smiled bitterly.

"The Apostolic State's Holy Warriors are the best allies when fighting monsters, but in a war against humans, they are a poisoned chalice."

Just in time, a messenger entered the barracks.

"Your Highness the Duke. The mercenary captains who came up from the peninsula are requesting negotiations regarding looting rights."

"This is exactly why. The monks of the Apostolic State glare with fiery eyes even at the looting of allies."

For mercenaries who risk their lives for money, the most important thing is absolutely looting. The period and scope of looting after a victory cannot be done at will and is determined through negotiations with the employer.

However, the moment the Apostolic State's Holy Warriors get involved, a tremendous dissonance arises here. There is a risk of ruining the entire army while trying to receive powerful elite troops.

"But when is Count Mayer coming? If he joins us, the uncertainty of this war will completely disappear."

"He will come on his own when the time is right. Since he has to move a magic castle to the battlefield, there must be difficulties on a different level than simply marching an army. And the Count is no longer a knight of Roman but the Great Lord of Britannia. The very purpose of his participation in the war is different from ours."

Eugene wasn't hired for money like the mercenary captains either. He was a concept closer to an independent detachment and logistics unit.

Having successfully rescued the Dark Elf refugees, which was his greatest objective, and even taking over a large city that wasn't planned, there was no reason for him to willingly step forward in an all-out war.

"But there are too many people who want House Mayer to stand at the vanguard of the battlefield. Not to mention the mercenaries, there are more than a few knights wanting to become the Count's vassals..."

-The only ones who can fight the Shadow Legion on equal terms is Count Mayer's army.

This was especially true after the black banner was confirmed in the enemy camp. Because their numbers were so large and their supply and rear support were solid, the allied fOrces didn't consider defeat.

However, someone had to face the murderers of the black banner, dying countlessly. Naturally, no one wanted to take on that role.

But as the armies of both sides drew closer, the situation changed rapidly.

"Your Highness the Duke! Gaius's banner is not visible."

The noble allied fOrces, well-versed in the geography of the south, arrived at the Rein River basin one step ahead.

"The bastards' main fOrce is 3 hours away..."

"Hurry and move this loyal soldier to the medical tent!"

The report of the scout who returned with two arrows stuck in his back made the nobles extremely excited.

"We must attack the riverside beachhead right now!"

"If we just block Gaius's main fOrce from crossing the river, it's a guaranteed victory! They will run out of rations first, and if we strike their rear as they retreat starving, we can end this war!"

At the place suitable for crossing the river, the Imperial faction fOrces that had withdrawn from the south were gathered. True to the central region that conducts the most expeditions, they were also experts at building field camps.

They piled up earthworks, placed wooden palisades on top of them, and planted stakes diagonally in the front. They even dug a waterway connecting from the river to create an artificial mudflat in the front yard.

"Such wicked bastards."

"It's not like they're going to settle down and live here, it's a land they'll leave when the fight is over..."

In the face of that meticulousness, the mercenaries from Samur and the peninsula clicked their tongues. The Imperial faction fOrces were also dumbfounded seeing the noble allied fOrces surrounding them.

"Th-Those cockroach-like southern bastards! Where did they scrape togAAether that many again?"

"It feels more like they just newly made them rather than rallying defeated soldiers."

"Why is the Western Army so intact? Were there no bastards blocking them in the middle..."

Thanks to Eugene securing the route, the Western Army, which had crossed Roman without a single siege, was full of vitality.

"Let's rush them quickly! Doesn't it reek of those bastards being afraid seeing us?"

"H-But..."

As the Western nobles, victorious in consecutive battles and full of spirit, shouted bravely, the Southern nobles hesitated.

"No, with such a difference in troop size, what exactly are you afraid of to crouch like cowards?"

"Look closely at those bastards' camp. Didn't they build it exceptionally sturdy? Moreover, looking at the color of that mudflat, the muddiness must be extraordinary."

The nobles living near the Rein River knew very well what a terrible terrain the mudflat created when the river overflowed during the rainy season was. Since they had already suffered a crushing defeat after charging intoxicated by numbers, it was no wonder they hesitated.

However, the young strategist Duke Robert had already prepared a countermeasure for this.

"Prepare for the attack. Knights, protect the laborers from enemy attacks while they lay planks and straw bundles on the ground."

At Robert's command, over 100 oxcarts fully loaded with coverings crossed the camp.

"Uwaaah!"

"I won't eat beef until the war is over!"

Moo-?

The oxen blinked their naive eyes while chewing the straw loaded on the carts. Because they had never heard such cheers and applause from such a large crowd in their lives.

And the final puzzle piece boosting the morale of the noble faction arrived.

Flash!!!

A massive cluster of lightning crossed the sky above the noble faction's grand army.

"Oh my God."

The entire army looked up at the sky with dumbfounded faces. In their common sense, lightning headed from the sky to the ground on rainy days with dark clouds.

Crackle!

Bzzzzzt!

There had never been a case where it traversed the sky tearing clouds to shreds like now.

The cluster of lightning, which crossed the grand army in 1 second, descended beyond a hill quite far away.

Fwooosh!

A brilliant flash that temporarily pushed away even the daylight filled the horizon.

"It's the Moving Castle. It's the Moving Castle."

"Count Mayer has come!"

"We have an Undefeated Knight too!"

The clamor of the soldiers and knights whose morale hit the peak. There was no longer a noble opposing the charge.

* * *

"Didn't we come a bit too far?"

His subordinates were flustered by the landscape surrounded by isolated mountains, but Eugene was calm.

"It's fine. The scale of the assembled allied fOrces is tremendous."

During teleportation, Eugene can observe the outside from the boundary between the present world and the afterlife. The souls of the noble faction army densely packed in his eyes were so numerous that counting them was daunting.

Furthermore, each soul was full of passion, burning blue. They were different from the Imperial faction, which was yellow with tension and anxiety.

'Everyone's morale was high. The two Dukes' skills are better than I thought?'

Eugene hadn't realized that they were excited seeing their arrival.