Ghislain’s bold declaration left Alex, Andrew, and Leo looking at him as if pleading. "I do not grant permission for this campaign." "Please! Can’t we just handle this war rationally?!" "We’ve gathered a sizable force already. Shouldn’t we focus on fortifying the capital’s defenses while keeping our territories secure...?" The three of them blurted out their concerns rapidly, each making their own case. Though their words differed, their conclusion was the same—they wanted to consolidate their strength and create a stable power balance. Ghislain understood their reasoning. He knew that launching an attack from a disadvantaged position was a reckless gamble. That’s how it always was. When you only get one shot, the weight of that decision becomes almost unbearable. If they built up their forces, expanded their influence, and strengthened their position, their enemies would naturally tread carefully. That was what the three of them wanted—an equilibrium, a delicate balance where neither side would make rash moves. But Ghislain? He preferred to crush his enemies outright. That was the safest path. "The best defense is a good offense." "......" "Think about it. Right now, Marquis Falkenheim and his vassals have no idea what’s happening here." Ghislain had moved too fast. Even if Falkenheim’s direct informants had already reported the events, it would still take days for the information to reach him. Ghislain pointed that out. "We're in trouble, yes. But so are they. In fact, they're in an even worse position. They’re completely unprepared and frozen in place." "......" "So why should we give them time to mobilize their forces and prepare? If we move fast enough, we can cut them down before they even react." "......" The three of them were left speechless. As insane as Ghislain sounded, there wasn’t a single flaw in his argument. But just because it made sense didn’t mean it was easy. War was never that simple. No matter how strong Ghislain was, Marquis Falkenheim was one of the most powerful figures in the kingdom. If his vassals rose in unison, he could gather an army of hundreds of thousands in no time. Even if Falkenheim personally mobilized his forces, he alone commanded around a hundred thousand troops. That was an army that even a handful of transcendents would struggle to handle. Not to mention, Falkenheim himself had powerful knights and elite warriors under his command. Despite understanding Ghislain’s reasoning, neither their minds nor their instincts could fully accept his approach. Then, as if he couldn’t care less, Ghislain casually threw out his next words. "I wasn’t asking for permission. I was just trying to be polite." "......" "Alright, let’s move out." Ghislain spun on his heel without hesitation. He didn’t care if they tried to stop him—once he set his mind to something, he pushed through until the end. "W-Wait! I’m coming with you!" Andrew quickly followed after him. Leo was about to do the same when Alex grabbed him. "H-Hey, at least one of you has to stay with me, right?" Ghislain nodded. "Leo, stay here and protect His Majesty. I’ll be back soon." "Ugh...." Leo’s face turned pale. Who was protecting who here? For all his worries, he wasn’t exactly the bravest himself. But since Ghislain had given him a direct order, he couldn’t just ignore it. And so, two unfortunate souls remained in the capital. Meanwhile, Ghislain leaped onto his horse and shouted confidently. "Alright! We’re heading straight to Count Bulens’ territory at full speed!" Count Bulens was one of Marquis Falkenheim’s vassals and the closest to the capital. From a distance, the army led by Ghislain looked impressive, but in reality, it was a chaotic mess. The formations were sloppy, discipline was nonexistent, and everyone was struggling to keep up with Ghislain’s pace. The mercenaries of Julien’s group were growing increasingly anxious as they watched. Tyrone, sticking close to Ghislain’s side, finally voiced his concerns. "This... this isn’t right. How the hell do you plan to fight with this kind of army? This is a complete disaster. If we go up against a real military force, we’ll be wiped out instantly." "It’s fine. Just trust me." "......" Tyrone knew Ghislain was strong, but this was on a completely different level of insanity. Kyle, meanwhile, looked up at Dark, who was resting on his shoulder. "Seriously, are we actually doing this? Has he ever fought a war with an army this useless before?" Dark hesitated for a moment. "Hmm... Master has fought in a lot of wars, but... has he ever led an army this pathetic before? Can’t say I remember one." By the time Ghislain had recruited the Fenris forces, they had already become an elite army. They had crushed Desmond’s troops and risen to dominate the North. Even the allied forces and royal army he led afterward, though weaker than Fenris, were far better than what they had now. Dark’s expression grew serious. "Master always led the best of the best. He never started a war without having everything planned out perfectly." "...Then why the hell is he leading this dumpster fire of an army now?" "Don’t try to understand him. You’ll go insane if you do." "What if we all just collectively resist him? Maybe if we push back hard enough, he’ll listen?" Dark closed his eyes and nodded. "Master respects freedom of speech. He never stops people from opposing him." "Really?" "Yes. But... he doesn’t guarantee freedom after speech. Plenty of people have ‘become free’ from their bodies after talking back." "......" Kyle wisely decided to keep his mouth shut this time. The anxiety spread throughout the ranks like wildfire. Everyone knew Ghislain was a powerful warrior, but commanding an army in a large-scale war was a completely different challenge. And so, all eyes turned to one person—the only one who, at least by title, outranked Ghislain within the mercenary group. Julien. They desperately hoped their commander would talk some sense into Ghislain. After all, no matter how they looked at it, fighting Marquis Falkenheim with this kind of army was beyond reckless. With all those pleading eyes on him, Julien finally spoke in a calm tone. "I always trust Ghislain." Next to him, Deneb gave him a pitying look. "Julien... your voice is shaking." "......" Julien averted his gaze toward the distant horizon, pretending not to hear. He was done talking. And so, no one stopped Ghislain. This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight. And since they couldn’t stop him, they had no choice but to follow him. Their chaotic army arrived swiftly at Count Bulens’ territory. Rather than securing key strategic points, Ghislain led his forces straight toward the count’s castle. There was no concern for supply lines, no caution for potential ambushes. He was aiming straight for the heart of the enemy. The sudden arrival of an entire army sent Count Bulens into a panic. "W-What is this?! Who are they?! Is this a war?! Who dares?!" His vassals were just as confused. There had been no declaration of war, no reports of an imminent attack. Yet suddenly, an army was at their doorstep, sending Count Bulens’ blood pressure skyrocketing. "Count Bulens! Surrender immediately! If you surrender, I will spare you!" Ghislain stood at the front of his forces, shouting boldly. Count Bulens, still in shock, demanded, "Who are you?! What is the meaning of this?! Launching an attack without warning is madness! Do you think the other nobles will stand by and do nothing?!" Ghislain smirked. "His Majesty has dispatched this army to strike down the traitor, Marquis Falkenheim. You may be one of his vassals, but I am giving you the chance to change your allegiance now. Resist, and you will be treated as a rebel." "You lunatics...!" Count Bulens was overwhelmed. He had no idea where this army had come from. And with his troops scattered across various strongholds, the forces left to defend his castle were laughably small. Time was running out. In reality, the enemy had only a few tens of thousands of troops, but Count Bulens didn’t know that. All he could see was an overwhelming army. He had never once imagined that a war would break out. No one had ever dared to attack him before. As a result, he was completely unprepared. I need to stall for time. I have to contact Marquis Falkenheim. But even that was easier said than done. His forces were in no condition for a prolonged siege. Even if reinforcements were sent after receiving his message, he would be doomed long before they arrived. And worst of all, his enemy was using treason as their justification. Sure, he had always harbored thoughts of eventually rebelling, so it wasn’t entirely unfair. The problem was, if he lost the war while already labeled a traitor, his head would be the first to roll. Desperate, Count Bulens shouted in protest. "How can you suddenly appear and accuse me of treason?! At least give me time to think—" Seeing his pitiful pleas, Ghislain generously responded. "Fine! I'll give you time to think!" "T-Thank you! Just a moment, I need to confirm something—let me just raise the banners and—" "You get three seconds! Three! Two! One!" "What? Three seconds?! Hey! Hey! Is this guy insane?!" "One! Time’s up!" With that, Ghislain leaped off his horse. Using magic, he shot high into the air and crashed down onto the fortress walls like a meteor. BOOOOM! The impact shattered the landing point, sending powerful shockwaves rippling outward. "Uwaaahhh!" Soldiers near the impact site screamed and scrambled away. Some tripped over themselves in panic. Ghislain smirked as he glanced around. "Hmph. Looks like I can handle this place all on my own." As expected, the fortress was completely unprepared for war. There were some knights, sure, but at best, they could serve as minor obstacles. They wouldn’t even be able to tire him out. CLANK! A grappling hook latched onto the wall beside him. Moments later, Miles, the newly appointed Commander of the Royal Guard, climbed up using the rope. Standing beside Ghislain, he declared in a loud voice: "This man stands before you as the kingdom’s acting Chancellor and Supreme Commander of the Royal Army! He is a transcendent warrior—do not resist, and surrender immediately!" "T-T-Transcendent?" The soldiers’ faces went pale. Their numbers were already inferior, and they had made zero preparations for battle. They had been hastily conscripted and barely had time to process what was happening. And now, they were expected to fight a transcendent warrior? Of course, they were terrified. Even the knights were tense. The way Ghislain moved was beyond what any ordinary knight could achieve. That meant that his status as a transcendent was most likely real. Count Bulens, drenched in cold sweat, turned to his bodyguard and whispered: "I-Is he really a transcendent?" "It seems so. A normal knight cannot move like that." Ghislain pointed his spear at Count Bulens. "Time's up. Make your decision. If you resist, I’ll kill you first." "......" Count Bulens gulped. Even though there was some distance between them, and he had knights guarding him, he felt no sense of security. He truly believed that Ghislain would kill him first. If he had known a transcendent was coming, he would have never shown himself. That was just common sense. But the attack had been so abrupt, he hadn’t even considered the possibility. Count Bulens clenched his eyes shut. W-What do I do? They have a transcendent, and they outnumber us completely. We have no chance of winning. Should I surrender? But surrendering meant betraying Marquis Falkenheim. Eventually, he would have to pay the price for that. There was no way the king could defeat Marquis Falkenheim. But if he refused now, he would die a dog’s death. He couldn’t accept dying in vain. Damn it! How the hell do I get out of this insane situation?! As Count Bulens hesitated, Ghislain pulled his spear back and warned: "Are you still thinking? Alright, I’ll give you three seconds. Three, two—" "I-I don’t know what’s going on, but I surrender! I surrender unconditionally!" Having lost even the time to think, Count Bulens threw his hands in the air. When it came down to it, survival was all that mattered. If he lived, he could always look for another opportunity later. I-I’ll just surrender for now... and betray them when the time is right. That was the best option he could come up with. "Good. You made the right choice." Ghislain withdrew his spear and grinned. With this kind of power gap, surrender was the only logical outcome. After all, Marquis Falkenheim wasn’t someone his vassals would give their lives for. Before long, the fortress gates opened, and Ghislain’s army marched in. Ghislain immediately issued his next order. "Take every single supply in this castle." The kingdom’s forces began seizing all of Count Bulens’ stockpiled food and military resources. Watching everything he had gathered being looted before his eyes, Count Bulens clutched his head in despair. AAAGH! Who the hell are these bastard thieves?! Even after surrendering, they’re still robbing me?! Internally, he was cursing them with every foul word he knew. But outwardly, he forced himself to tremble and smile. He had no intention of provoking a transcendent warrior. Ghislain then turned to Count Bulens with a stern expression. "As Supreme Commander of the Royal Army, I order you—your troops will now assist in the subjugation of the rebels. Gather all your forces and follow me." "W-Wait, you’re conscripting my army too?! At least give me some time—" "Oh, you don’t have to come. You might cause trouble later. Just send your officers." "......" And so, Count Bulens lost all his soldiers and supplies. His once-prosperous territory was reduced to a wasteland in an instant. The Bulens forces, still confused about what was happening, were merged into the Royal Army. Though the army was # Nоvеlight # still a complete mess in terms of coordination, its numbers had swelled to 18,000 troops. Ghislain unfolded a map and turned to Miles. "Between these two locations, which one has fewer troops?" "Uh... Count Lauf’s territory. They have about 5,000 troops, which is less than Count Torner’s forces." "Great! The entire army is moving to Count Lauf’s territory! Next rest stop is there!" "WOOOOOAAAAHHH!" With that, Ghislain’s army moved again. Their formation was still a complete disaster, but Ghislain didn’t care. His goal was to strip as many enemy lords of their resources as possible before they could mount a proper defense. As Ghislain’s forces disappeared into the distance, Count Bulens stared blankly at his empty castle. Seeing his ransacked fortress made his stomach turn. "What the hell... Those bastards... What even just happened...?" It was like a swarm of locusts had passed through, stripping everything bare. The worst part was, he still had no idea why any of this was happening. In the end, Count Bulens slumped into a corner of the fortress wall. "I’m finished..." There was no point in thinking about betrayal anymore. He had no troops, no supplies—he had nothing left to fight with. Sure, he could try to file a complaint with the royal court later. But for now, there was nothing he could do. All he could do was pray that this senseless war would end soon. As he sat there, struggling to hold back tears, Ghislain... "Three seconds! Surrender!" ...was already repeating the exact same thing in the next territory.