Atrodé Kingdom. One of the most powerful nations on the continent, it served as the heart of the Salvation Order’s operations. The Duke of Reinster, the king’s younger brother and the true power behind the throne, was a devout follower of the Order and provided sanctuary for its activities. Gatros, a royal scholar who had served as the duke’s mentor since his days as a prince, had spent years carefully grooming Reinster, instilling the doctrines of the Salvation Order in him. Through meticulous efforts, Gatros had elevated the once-overlooked prince to become the most influential figure in the kingdom. Naturally, Reinster trusted Gatros implicitly. When Gatros returned to the kingdom after his failure in Ruthania, the duke was visibly surprised. “I never expected you to face such difficulties, Master.” “I deeply regret my failure, Your Highness. Unexpected variables arose in the Ruthania Kingdom.” “I’ve heard of it—Count Fenris... or should I say, the newly crowned Grand Duke. I never thought the mighty Delphine Ducal House would fall to someone like him.” “His growth is anything but ordinary. There were many factors that hindered us.” Gatros struggled to suppress his frustration as he spoke. A barrage of unexpected individuals and events had thwarted their plans. He had no way of knowing that Ghislain Fenris had experienced the exact same frustration in his previous life. Reinster smiled serenely. “No matter. We can always start again. This kingdom is nearly within my grasp.” Indeed, most of Atrodé was already under the duke’s control. Only the area surrounding the capital remained. The delay was simply due to careful efforts to minimize damage from the fierce resistance. It was only a matter of time before the kingdom fell entirely into his hands. To Reinster, Ruthania could wait. He had only approved the operation there because Gatros insisted on retrieving the relic. “And now? What are your plans?” Reinster asked. “I’ve ordered the priests to regroup here. We need to prepare and fortify ourselves against the Ruthanian forces.” “Are they truly that formidable?” “They are armed with unknown techniques, Your Highness. Underestimating them would be disastrous.” “I see. If even you, Master, struggled against them, then they must not be ordinary foes. Let us secure this kingdom quickly and prepare for what’s to come.” The Duke of Reinster’s ambitions extended far beyond the conquest of Atrodé. He dreamed of uniting the continent under the Salvation Order’s banner, creating an empire with himself at its helm. At first, this vision had seemed achievable. Most of the kingdoms on the continent were already engulfed in chaos due to the Salvation Order’s machinations. But now, Ghislain Fenris was systematically dismantling their influence, one region at a time. This development was a growing concern for the duke. “We must recover the relic as soon as possible,” Reinster said gravely. “At this rate, other regions will fall quickly, and we may find ourselves on the defensive.” “Hmmm...” Gatros frowned, deep in thought. The next relic was believed to be in the Kingdom of Grimwell. The problem was that Grimwell was a formidable nation in its own right. Despite being embroiled in a civil war, Grimwell still had enough resources to send troops to the allied forces. Consequently, the Salvation Order was gathering priests to prepare for an assault on the kingdom. But shifting priests from other regions to focus on Grimwell would weaken the Salvation Order’s hold elsewhere, leaving them vulnerable to the allied forces. Gatros sighed heavily. “This is a thorny problem. If we concentrate our forces on Grimwell, we risk losing ground to the allied forces elsewhere. And if they come to Grimwell’s aid before we secure it, we’ll be in an even worse position.” On the other hand, dealing with the allied forces first meant delaying the retrieval of the relic indefinitely. With the Order already at a disadvantage, dividing their forces to address both issues was a risky proposition. As the duke and Gatros deliberated for days, Aiden arrived in Atrodé with his troops. Having heard of Ruthania’s civil war ending during his return, he had made his way back to report. “Oh, my loyal blade has returned at last,” Reinster greeted warmly. He had already received letters detailing Aiden’s successful efforts to recruit the Revolutionary Corps and win over Helgenique. “I trust you’ve been well, Your Highness,” Aiden said, bowing gracefully. The White Knights, a force established by Reinster, had been instrumental in Aiden’s freedom to operate across multiple kingdoms. “Yes, I’ve heard of your success. Well done.” “The leader of the Revolutionary Corps will soon join us with their forces.” “You’ve brought excellent news in these trying times,” Reinster said with a hearty laugh, commending Aiden’s accomplishments. Reinster then turned his attention to Helgenique, who stood beside Aiden. “You must be the renowned ‘Master of the Dead.’” “That’s correct.” Helgenique offered only the slightest nod, his expression indifferent. Reinster frowned at the apparent lack of respect but chose to let it pass. He was well aware of Helgenique’s power, and this was a time when every strong ally was desperately needed. Gatros, too, held back his resentment. While he loathed Helgenique for killing Salvation Order priests, infighting would serve no purpose now. The most pressing issue was the growing strength of the allied forces, particularly the army led by Ghislain Fenris. They needed a strategy to confront them. During a council of the duke’s faction and the Salvation Order’s key leaders, various opinions were voiced. “We should deal with the allied forces first. If we wait, they’ll only grow stronger.” “Once the allied forces are eliminated, we’ll have free rein. We can retrieve the relics afterward.” “But the relics are critical! Without them, we can’t control the Rifts or achieve the Order’s ultimate goals!” “If we lose to the allied forces, it’s over. It could take years to recover, so it’s better to defend ourselves and secure the relics first.” “But if we prioritize the relics and the allied forces catch us off guard, we’ll be crushed in detail!” Both sides had valid arguments. With the tide of the war turning against them, caution was paramount. Helgenique, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. “The best course of action would be to prevent the allied forces from consolidating before we conquer Grimwell. That way, we can secure the relic and focus our strength on Grimwell.” Gatros nodded. “That’s true. But Ghislain Fenris’s forces are incredibly strong. Ordinary troops won’t even slow them down.” He was well aware of the formidable warriors gathered in Ruthania’s northern army. Everyone in the room had been briefed on the scale of their strength. And Fenris wasn’t the only issue. The emergence of new, powerful figures in the Kingdom of Turian, combined with skilled leaders from other nations, made the allied forces an unprecedented threat. “Even if we’re strong, dividing our forces makes it difficult to overcome them. That’s why we’re struggling to prioritize,” Gatros explained. Helgenique chuckled, his shoulders shaking with amusement. The situation was undeniably intriguing. “I’d like to face that powerful army myself. Provide me with a modest force, and I’ll stall them. Use that time to take Grimwell.” “Do you believe it’s possible?” Reinster asked skeptically. “Why not? I’ll simply blanket the battlefield with my undead legions. That should buy you enough time. All I need is for you to prepare the necessary resources.” Gatros’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. Helgenique’s abilities as a necromancer were well-known, but the idea of him singlehandedly delaying the allied forces was staggering. Helgenique grinned as he continued. “You don’t understand. The battlefield is where I thrive most.” *** After eliminating the Rifts and rebel forces in the Kingdom of Byron, the Ruthanian army entered a brief period of rest. They needed time to replenish their supplies, reinforce their armaments, and prepare for the next campaign. Thanks to Ghislain, the surviving forces of Byron pledged to support the effort with additional troops. The plan was to gradually increase their strength by recruiting forces from every kingdom they liberated. As Ghislain rested, a messenger from the Kingdom of Turian arrived. “Hmm, so the Turian forces wish to join us?” Ghislain asked. “Yes, Your Grace,” the messenger replied. “If it pleases you, we believe Sardina would be an ideal location to serve as the central base for the allied forces.” “Not a bad idea,” Ghislain mused. Sardina was centrally located on the continent, making it an excellent hub for coordinating movements in any direction. From Byron to Sardina, only a few kingdoms stood in their way—kingdoms they could liberate as they advanced. It was also easily accessible for Turian forces, who faced a similar journey. The wars waged across the continent made such coordination essential. While Ghislain’s army moved from region to region providing support, the allied forces desperately needed a centralized gathering place. Claude, standing nearby, voiced a concern. “Traveling from here to Sardina shouldn’t be an issue for us. The Salvation Order’s influence isn’t particularly strong in the region. But will the Turian forces be able to make it safely?” Turian forces would need to suppress at least two rebellious kingdoms along the way to rendezvous with Ruthania’s army. And with fewer than 50,000 troops, they lacked the overwhelming numbers needed to handle prolonged conflicts. Ghislain chuckled at Claude’s worry and answered before the messenger could. “That won’t be a problem. Isn’t that right?” The messenger straightened his posture, pride gleaming in his expression. “Indeed, Your Grace. You need not worry about that at all.” The Turian army had something—or rather, someone—that gave them unparalleled confidence: Julien. The man who had single-handedly turned the tide of Turian’s war. To the people of Turian, Julien was practically a divine figure. “Very well,” Ghislain said. “Let it be so.” In his previous life, Sardina had also served as the allied forces’ central hub. All the administrative and military operations of the coalition had been based there, spearheaded by none other than Julien. Since Ghislain had planned to propose Sardina as the rallying point anyway, he had no objections. A designated central location was crucial for organizing the scattered allied forces. The messenger, pleased with Ghislain’s approval, departed with a wide smile. Once the messenger left, Ghislain turned to Claude. “Have you assessed the current situation? What’s the status?” Ruthania’s network of spies had been tirelessly gathering intelligence, sending reports to Ghislain without pause. “Rebel activity is clearly waning,” Claude reported. “Most of it seems to be because the Salvation Order’s priests have abruptly vanished.” “And where are they gathering?” Claude hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Based on their movements, as you predicted, Atrodé Kingdom seems the most likely location. But... how did you know?” “I know everything.” “...” Claude sighed. Ghislain’s cryptic remarks were as frustrating as ever. He never offered explanations, but his predictions always turned out to be correct. In truth, even Ghislain had not uncovered the Salvation Order’s hideouts in his previous life. He, like others, had been too preoccupied with the Rifts to investigate their operations. But now, armed with the knowledge that Aiden’s mysterious “we” referred to the Salvation Order, Ghislain easily deduced their stronghold. The White Knights, led by Aiden, were directly tied to Duke Reinster of Atrodé Kingdom—a devout follower of the Salvation Order. “They seem to be gathering their strength,” Ghislain remarked. “We need to move quickly and handle as many regions as we can. Who knows when the Salvation Order will make their next move.” Though he had weakened their forces significantly, Ghislain knew better than to underestimate them. The Salvation Order’s strength, when united, remained formidable. Hidden assets, like Aiden, could still turn the tide in their favor. The sooner the allied kingdoms were liberated and unified, the better. Only by consolidating their strength could they withstand the Salvation Order’s inevitable resurgence. Just as the Salvation Order feared Ghislain, he, too, remained vigilant against their machinations. He couldn’t afford to be complacent, not after witnessing how their secretive strategies had succeeded in his previous life. “Complete preparations as quickly as possible,” Ghislain ordered. “We move out soon.” The Ruthanian army sprang into action, assisted by Byron’s cooperation. Supplies were replenished, and repairs to equipment were expedited. But Byron’s support didn’t end there. The kingdom also helped identify and organize refugees who had fled from neighboring regions. One of Byron’s officials approached Claude with an urgent report. “We’ve found her.” Claude’s voice trembled as he asked, “Are you certain?” “Yes, absolutely. While documenting the refugees, we verified her identity. She’s currently in one of the camps, under the protection of our soldiers.” Though Claude held the title of a slave, he was effectively the second-in-command of Ruthania’s northern army. Byron’s bureaucrats had gone to great lengths to please him. Their efforts had finally borne fruit: Claude had located Anna’s whereabouts.