Chapter 174 — The War That Does Not End
The Margrave wasted no time.
The stone pillars dissolved into dust at a wave of his hand.
“Sound the bell!” he commanded. “Tell them Westmarch still stands! Rally the troops — we strike back!”
“Yes, my lord!”
A soldier sprinted toward the bell tower.
“Medics! Prioritize the gravely wounded. Stabilize them — prevent death first. Those who can return to battle, restore them and send them back!”
Cold. Logical.
The dying would live.
The able would fight.
Healers split instantly — the mortally wounded on one side, the lesser injured on another. Holy light flared. Potions shattered. Bandages tightened.
No hesitation.
No mercy for despair.
His gaze shifted.
Ivaline and Vaelis stood facing one another in silence.
No words.
Yet something passed between them.
A quiet understanding.
He did not know what it was — but he felt it.
Then his eyes moved to the adventurer group.
The Four Bastion.
Their leader — pale, fighting down nausea. Understandable. A fall like that would shake anyone.
The towering shield-bearer inspected cracks spiderwebbing across his shield. To endure such force and remain standing… formidable.
The beastkin woman gently patted their leader’s back, concern naked in her eyes. Earlier, she had pouted in irritation.
Foolish boy. He doesn’t notice her heart.
Regrettable.
The elven mage drained her second mana potion, eyes fixed somewhere else—
On the silver-haired half-elf.
Jealousy flickered.
The Margrave’s gaze dropped to the matching bracelets.
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Ah.
Not sibling.
Not parent.
That look belonged only to a lover.
He would wager his magic blade on it.
And finally—
Ruderic.
Knight Captain.
Friend.
Brother in all but blood.
The Margrave approached slowly.
Blood crystallized along stone.
Ruderic’s eyes were half-open.
Too still.
He crouched.
His hand trembled.
Ruderic had served him since youth.
Corrected him when pride overtook reason.
Shared laughter in private halls.
They had joked only weeks ago — that one day, their children might marry.
“Fool…” his voice cracked. “Why would you leave me like this?”
His jaw clenched.
Then—
A whisper.
“…P-Please… don’t kill me off like that… m’lord…”
The Margrave’s head snapped up.
“HEALERS! CEASE ALL TREATMENT AND GET HERE — NOW!”
They rushed as one.
Light engulfed the knight captain.
Breath returned.
Color crept back.
Ruderic lived.
For now—
That was enough.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The bell rang across Westmarch.
Steel rang in response.
“The Margrave lives!”
“Rally!”
“We are the defenders of Westmarch!”
“Shield of Pinta!”
“ARISE!”
A roar thundered across the fort.
Morale surged like a breaking tide.
The beasts faltered.
Where they once seemed invincible — now they seemed killable.
Pushable.
Bleeding.
The gate burst open.
“Everyone! With me!”
The Margrave charged.
Sir Caelum’s cavalry thundered past.
Selene cracked her whip — lightning tore through the ranks of beasts.
“GOOD! HUMANS STAND!”
“THEN WE FOLLOW!”
“CRUSH!”
“DESTROY!”
Momentum flipped.
Beasts retreated.
Instinct overrode savagery.
Within the hour, the fort interior was reclaimed.
The defenders reassembled.
Breathing.
Organized.
Alive.
They had endured.
Far beyond the field —
General Silva watched.
One of the captain rush to his side
“My lord, the humans have struck back.”
“…Heh. So the Alpha failed.”
No fear.
Only mild interest.
“Your orders?”
“Retreat.”
The vice general blinked. “Retreat?”
“Yes. Withdraw cleanly.”
Howls echoed.
Orders relayed.
The beast army pulled back in flawless coordination.
Humans cheered.
Selene and Alaric did not pursue.
Retreat did not mean defeat.
Both sides understood this.
They would rest.
Regroup.
Return.
Atop the keep —
Seraphine wrapped her arms around Ivaline and hissed faintly toward Vaelis in territorial warning.
Vaelis immediately dropped to seiza and bowed in apology.
That… made Seraphine hesitate.
Still, she did not release her hold.
Inside that embrace, Ivaline’s thoughts turned inward.
Why retreat? They could have pressed further.
Chronicle answered calmly.
War is not a duel. You do not aim to win one clash. You aim to win the continuation.
Preserve your soldiers. Break theirs slowly. Force them into exhaustion.
Ivaline ask.
…So they’re only resting?
Yes. And if their commander understands this well… then he is dangerous.
Ivaline frowned.
She did not fully grasp it.
But she understood one thing.
This battle was not the end.
Relief had just begun to settle.
Then—
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The bell rang in panic.
“ENEMY FORCE APPROACHING!”
“ONE THOUSAND BEASTS!”
“…What?”
“They just retreated—”
“NOT THE SAME FORCE!” the watchtower guard screamed. “A NEW BATTALION! FRESH TROOPS!”
Silence.
Cold.
A new thousand?
Then what—
What had they just fought?
Far away, Silva smiled.
Behind him, the wounded first battalion rested, licking their wounds.
“Rest,” he murmured. “You will fight again.”
He turned to watch the second battalion march forward — disciplined. Untouched.
“Who told you I brought only one army?”
His white fangs gleamed.
“One fights. One rests. Then they switch.”
Rotation.
That was how border forts fell so quickly.
Humans fought until exhaustion.
Beasts fought in cycles.
Now —
The human force was battered.
His second battalion was fresh.
“Show me,” Silva whispered. “How long can you endure?”
The second wave crashed against Selene and Alaric’s line.
And this time—
The humans did not roar.
They braced.
