In the world's original course of fate, Night Raid made enormous sacrifices for the Revolutionary Army's victory. Yet even so, those who survived still failed to receive the status they deserved.
The best of them was Nezha.
Dragging her gravely injured body along, she spent the last stretch of her life serving the New Empire.
As for Akame, she was placed on the wanted list as an assassin—a dark chapter of the Revolutionary Army that it refused to acknowledge.
Artoria knew nothing of this.
However, she could still understand what this "general" of the Revolutionary Army was trying to say.
In this war, they were supposed to take the leading role, with the Imperial Armament users assisting them.
Artoria had no intention of continuing the charade.
"I told you, this war doesn't need you. Besides, if you truly have any sincerity, you'd better send a real general to show me whether you have what it takes to bring happiness to the people, instead of sending an impostor."
"An impostor?" The instant Nezha heard those words, she realized something. She widened her eyes and stared at Batora. "It was you? Chelsea?"
Although she spoke in a questioning tone, her expression clearly showed that she already believed Artoria's words.
And had guessed who this person was.
"Nezha." Bratley's expression tightened. "You actually believed this person's words so easily? After all, you haven't reported anything about their identities or origins, have you?"
"There's no need to keep pretending." Nezha gave him a deep look. "You didn't reveal a single flaw. You even managed to fool me. But since His Majesty says you're an impostor, then you must be one. And the only person capable of impersonating someone to this extent is you, Chelsea."
Nezha knew how powerful Artoria was.
Naturally, she believed Artoria.