Even a Golden Family could fall into obscurity one day.
How glorious the Montablin Rock Family had once been! Their ancestors had even been cursed by a Demon Lord. But in this generation, they were either madmen or cowards. And with a madman having slaughtered the bloodline, even their hope of rising again had grown faint.
Humanity had only lost a Golden Family. The Demon Lord had lost a source of amusement—and a drop of blood!
"Stand up. Don't disgrace yourself! Think of the glory of the Montablin Rock Family!"
"Glo...ry..."
Girardi's lips trembled.
Of the wisdom, strength, foresight, and courage needed to become a lord, he possessed only luck.
Annan's gaze fell on the sand table. Looking at the vast disparity between the two sides, he found himself wondering whether the Empire could defeat the Ratfolk-Demon Allied Forces at all.
The arithmetic was simple: the Thirteen Ratfolk Clans matched the Thirteen High Kings, and the McKennan Ratfolk matched the Tartun Empire. But now there were demons too.
Middle Earth was humanity's greatest stronghold after Wilhelm, yet every other faction was watching from the sidelines, acting as if the Empire would hold up the sky if it fell.
The sight irritated Annan. How was he supposed to restore Middle Earth's glory alongside these useless parasites?
"Don't worry. The Empire isn't called 'Barbarian' just for how it acts. The name speaks to its strength too... The Empire must have trump cards we don't know about."
"I hope so."
The Four Great Guards, Mage Corps, and Conscripts were only half the Empire's forces in plain sight. Its hidden strength, such as the Old Ancestor, had not been counted.
In this Year of Turmoil without gods, the Old Ancestor was an insurmountable mountain.
"The Empire doesn't seem to have called up the Allied