For Justice, Fight!

"Father!"

The conference room, once filled with endless arguing, gradually fell silent at that cry.

Kevin Havent, his body wrapped in bandages, turned to look.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be on the road seeking reinforcements?"

Count Havent, now past fifty, no longer possessed his former majesty. Around him stood nobles and knights who had fled from the surrounding territories.

The Church of Death, as if it had appeared out of thin air, had dealt Hailan Territory a crushing blow. Forced into battle without knowing the enemy's strength, the White Lion Legion—

—had lost a full quarter of its forces. If Count Kevin had not risked his life to drive back the Demon Dragon wreaking havoc among the cavalry—

—then the White Lion Legion, whose name shook the Northern Frontier, might have become history. Count Kevin had paid a tremendous price for it.

"Seeking what reinforcements?"

Havent smiled, gathered his loose platinum-blond hair, and handed his helmet to Taren, who followed behind him.

"The nearest reinforcements are Marquis Rohan's. Never mind whether I can even persuade him to come—by the time I return with them, there probably won't be a single living person left in Hailan Territory."

Count Kevin frowned at his son.

"What nonsense are you saying?! Stop being willful!"

Havent waved a hand, then looked around at everyone in the conference room.

"Everyone, you wouldn't happen to be planning to run, would you? Isn't that right, Lord Mori?"

He looked toward Count Mori, seated beside his father, as well as the nobles from the other destroyed territories. Without waiting for anyone to react, Havent continued on his own.

"I remember from the archives that the Church of Death mainly operated in the Southern Province. Yet now it has suddenly appeared in the Northern Frontier and gathered so many people. Oh! And there's a Demon Dragon, too.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk! The Armor Defense Line isn't far from here. There are less than two months before the snow comes~"

"What exactly are you trying to say? This is a military council, not a place for a child like you to act however he pleases!"

Count Kevin was growing irritated. His son, who normally showed little interest in anything, was being utterly rude today.

"Please let me finish!"

Havent strode to the map of the Northern Frontier. At that moment, it was covered in all manner of markers.

"Let me see... Ah, right here."

Havent tapped a circled location with his finger, then turned toward a tall, thin middle-aged noble nearby. After recalling the man's name, he said,

"Lord Sisimor, if I remember correctly, the Death Army first broke through your territory, didn't it?"

Caught off guard by Havent's question, Sisimor looked somewhat embarrassed. Seeing everyone turn to look at him, he answered awkwardly,

"That's true, but so what? Baron Raven's territory fell the next day as well."

"Ah! Please don't get agitated. I don't mean anything else by this. I simply want to emphasize one point. From the start of this incident until the Death Cult reached our gates, only five short days have passed.

"It has rapidly grown from fewer than a hundred people to its current scale. Yet at this meeting, my lords are still arguing without end. Perhaps by the time you come up with a specific plan, the other side will already have converted every living thing it can convert.

"Then, if we cannot destroy the Death Army, the Armor Defense Line ahead of us will be left isolated and without support. Worse still, if the Orc Empire launches an offensive in winter and the Armor Defense Line is breached, then what awaits you, my lords, will be the gallows—for fleeing before the battle and abandoning your territories."

For a time, the conference room fell deathly silent. Everyone was stunned by Havent's bold words.

After a long while, Count Mori, seated in the center, spoke leisurely.

"Child, you have excellent strategic insight. Preparing for the worst is an admirable quality a military commander needs. Kevin, you raised Havent well."

Count Havent nodded and smiled at his old comrade beside him, then patted his shoulder in apology.

Count Mori picked up his wineglass and clinked it against his old friend's. Then he rose, walked to Havent's side, and slapped a hand onto the map.

"What you described will not happen. We will gather our strength and wipe them out completely. Victory belongs to the Northern Frontier!"

Havent wanted to say more, but the atmosphere in the conference room had already turned fervent, and no one paid attention to him anymore.

With no other choice, Havent turned and left the conference room. This was the third time. He only hoped that when the fourth time came, they would stay behind and organize at least some decent resistance.

The third time, Havent had not chosen a midnight raid. The result of the first time had already proven that his small raiding party alone could not carry out the decapitation plan. So he could only push the timing further forward, back to before his father died in battle.

This time, Havent did not wait until his father's death to passively accept everything. Instead, he chose to strike first. After Havent's tireless analysis, his father had finally accepted his baiting plan. He had also avoided the outcome of inheriting the title only to find himself fatherless.

Using the castle's terrain, they would lure the enemy's strongest force into the city. As long as they could separate the Demon Dragon from its controller and defeat them one by one, things would be much easier.

However, as the brutal siege unfolded, the severely weakened White Lion Legion had no strength to hold back the endless undead. In the end, his father, the high-ranking mage Solis, and several senior knights launched suicidal attacks and perished together with the Demon Dragon.

Yet by then, the Demon Dragon's attacks had already torn a massive breach in the castle. Countless undead ghouls poured in through it.

With no living forces left, Havent led his remaining dozen or so retainers in a long, desperate battle before finally falling in front of the teleportation array.

Thinking of the final moment, when Taren had led the remaining soldiers to hold off the ghouls in hopes that he could escape through the teleportation array, Havent rubbed his aching temples.

"Taren, where is my teacher now?"

The Knight Captain stood behind Havent, adjusting the position of his sword. Hearing his young master's question, he immediately replied,

"Young Master, Lord Solis should currently be at Borgnezh Magic Tower. Lord Kevin's injuries are severe, and the Demon Dragon's deathly aura still remains in his body."

Ah... right. That was it.

The reason for the second mutual destruction was that his father's battle aura had been constantly affected by the Demon Dragon's deathly aura, causing its circulation to become obstructed whenever he used a Battle Skill.

When the Demon Dragon was about to fly away from the castle, he had no choice but to self-destruct.

"Let's go. We're heading to the magic tower. I have something to discuss with Lord Solis."

As they reached the bend in the stairs, a fierce chorus of shouts rang out from the conference room.

"For Ingis! For the Northern Frontier! For honor!

"For light! For justice!

"Fight! Fight! Until death!

"..."

Listening to the voices from the conference room, Havent, walking ahead, shook his head. If he had not experienced it three times already, he might have believed them.