Chapter 549
There’s something in human psychology. It’s completely natural to criticize my family, my school, my workplace, and my country. When I feel like a total loser within my community, it only makes sense to lead the charge in venting that frustration.
So, it’s no surprise that people go off about injustices while rolling their eyes and twisting their limbs. Honestly, if you don’t curse a little, how can you even cope?
But when I’m cursing and acknowledging my own stupidity, it’s a whole different chapter when someone else criticizes my community.
No matter how much you vent, it’s still my community. No matter how outrageous it feels, it’s a fence you can’t escape. But a third party—someone with no connection at all—dares to trash talk me and my people?
‘Killing them would be justified.’
Killing those Quoronos bastards wouldn’t be murder; it would simply be righteous moral enforcement. How dare they demean a great empire with a country that’s as common as dirt? They insulted the homeland I’ve sacrificed my life and youth to uphold.
This blatant disregard is an affront that surpasses even my empire; they’re disrespecting my whole life. Doing this from a small border nation while blatantly belittling a powerful country is an act of lunacy.
‘One slice a day.’
That’s my promise. Like the Emperor said, until those Quoronos folks are willing to bang their heads against the ground to settle things diplomatically, I’m going to slice the heavens.
Of course, doing this every day is a bit of a load. Even the original originator of the Sky Slice, Kagan, only did it once a week. Being a minor copy, using it more often than the original would practically mean sacrificing my body.
But that’s only when I plan to go all out. If I can be moderate with the power and get some solid healing afterward, I could manage to pull it off once a day. What matters more is not so much the power of the slice but rather the show of tearing through the sky.
‘Leaving a cool-down period just invites these cocky bastards to get full of themselves.’
They know that both the Empire and Armein are holding their ground but still dare to push for their interests. You think a week’s worth of cool-down time is sufficient against those lunatics? They’ll be quick to brush off what they saw as just a minor threat. I can bet my boots on that.
So, this is the plan. Slice the sky once a day while gradually advancing eastward towards the Quoronos army. I can’t wait to see how long it takes for these guys to come to their senses and offer their heads.
*
The sky was torn.
Not by a natural disaster or divine wrath, but by human hands ripping it apart.
“UHAHAHA!”
Just the absurdity of it made me laugh. I’ve heard tales about Count Tailglehen’s might in slicing the sky with his sword, and I’ve watched the footage captured by an artifact countless times.
But seeing it firsthand felt utterly different from just hearing about it. The awe and pressure weighing down on me was something you couldn’t even compare to just vague rumors.
“Y-Your Grace?”
As I burst into laughter, my staff, who were gazing dumbfoundedly at the sky beside me, looked at me like I’d lost it.
It was a totally blasphemous look, but I could understand it. If someone is laughing watching the sky tear apart, I’d think they were insane, too.
But I couldn’t help it. The laughter just kept coming.
‘That’s the pinnacle of swordsmanship.’
This person is not just at the zenith; they’ve reached a summit beyond. It’s like not only reaching the mountaintop but stepping into new territory altogether.
‘The greatest swordsman in the continent.’
Among the countless swordsmen across this land, they can proudly claim to be the best.
Honestly, if this didn’t motivate me as a fellow swordsman, I’d be lying. While I’m not confident I’ll reach that level, I’ve definitively realized that the limits of swordsmanship are boundless. If one sword can slice the heavens, what can’t I slice with effort? Mountains and rivers should be manageable.
‘Thank goodness we’re not facing them as enemies.’
I halted my laughter and glanced back and forth between the torn sky and the Count.
I genuinely mean it. It’s lucky that I’m not going up against the Count as an Armein noble. How on earth would I contend with someone like that on the battlefield?
No matter how much I rack my brain, no answers emerge. Though I’ve served as the Southern Supreme Commander, I’ve never before faced an opponent that felt this hopeless.
‘The King’s foresight never fails.’
I felt relief wash over me, realizing how well the relations between Armein and the Empire have been since history. When the King sought a somewhat humiliating peace with the Empire, some nobles were unhappy, but after witnessing this scene, they’d sing praises of His Majesty’s outstanding judgment and wisdom.
Yes, His Majesty lowered his head for a while, absorbing disgrace and dishonor for the sake of the kingdom and its people. He made the best decision for the national interest.
‘Just a slight misstep, and the nightmares of the Iron-Blooded Duke could have been revived.’
Just imagining it sends a chill down my spine. At that time, I was just a mere commander, but I experienced firsthand the terror that the Iron-Blooded Duke brought upon the renowned military. I observed what disasters could unfold when an exceptional warrior leads the imperial army.
And if, Heaven forbid, disputes arose between the two nations again—who would replace the retired Iron-Blooded Duke? Who would etch an unforgettable scar upon us?
‘…Thank you for being born in this era, Count.’
That too is sincere. Had the Count been born thirty years earlier, Armein would’ve challenged a swordsman who can slice the heavens.
Perhaps we’d have fallen into the dismal and miserable state, just like Leon is now.
“Ha ha! At my age, traveling to a foreign land has been exhausting, but as a martial artist, I’ve witnessed something marvelous! Thank you, Count!”
That’s why I quickly plastered a smile on my face and approached the Count. Making friends with someone you can’t fight against is the key to survival.
Armein’s knights can distinguish between bravery and foolishness.
Unlike those fools from some crazy nation.
*
Looks like even the lunatic retained a shred of their common sense.
“The Kingdom of Quoronos has sent an envoy.”
On the second day of the Sky Slice challenge, Quoronos made its move. Given that they’re a massive expeditionary force, reacting on the second day could be deemed quite swift.
Unless, of course, they were just planning to hold out until yesterday when they were jolted into action after seeing the heavens torn two days in a row. Given their track record, it’s a plausible theory.
“Send them back.”
“There’s no need to meet them easily.”
The two commanders responded coldly to the advisor’s report. They weren’t soft enough to open their hearts to Quoronos after having gone so far away.
“Yes, I’ll handle that.”
The aide announcing the envoy seemingly expected this answer, nodding nonchalantly before turning to leave.
Considering the trouble Quoronos has caused for both the Empire and Armein, they should be throwing themselves at our mercy. From the get-go, their karma was just too thick to simply grant them a meeting.
“Well, then, let’s get moving.”
As the aide withdrew, Marquess Iskertal chuckled and stood up.
“Yes. The eastern citizens must be desperately longing for liberation, so let’s hurry.”
The 6th Corps Commander also wore a faint smile as he echoed Marquess Iskertal’s words.
Though it’s unfortunate for Quoronos, there’s more than one way to shatter their morale than just sending the envoy away.
It’s not about guests visiting a store; it’s about delivery personnel stopping by. Adapting to the times means we can personally lead our forces to them.
‘They’ll be trembling in their boots.’
Facing both the swordsman who tears the sky and the top two countries on the continent at the same time is a challenge that even Kagan would shake his head at.
Sure, Quoronos were probably in a daze, but thanks to the extreme prescription of the Sky Slice, they’d be left scrambling as we advanced.
The journey east feels thrilling, like a picnic.
“The commander of the Leon expeditionary force from the Quoronos Kingdom, Alfonso Cardena, is here.”
Hmm.
“Individuals of mere border nations have caused agitation, unable to understand the depths of the Empire and the great nation’s destiny. What right do we have to seek forgiveness or beg for mercy?”
Hmm…
“But those led by ignorant and lowly beings have no sins, and we humbly ask for mercy for the soldiers.”
Huuuuum…
‘Accepted.’
As soon as the Imperial and Armein forces entered the territory occupied by Quoronos, a man waiting in the border zone declared unconditional surrender.
I like this guy. He’s not in noble garb or the commander’s uniform but in prisoner clothing, and he came here with only a few knights instead of soldiers. And he didn’t make excuses—he just banged his head down right there.
‘This is the last of their sanity.’
I’m pretty sure that’s a completely normal reaction. Any intellect emanating from Quoronos likely stems from this commander Alfonso.
Though there’s something concerning that a simple commander, not the expeditionary force supreme commander, declared surrender—
“The commander can’t move at the moment, so I’m currently representing the expeditionary forces. The other commanders are following my orders, so there’s no need to worry about qualifications.”
That’s what he says.
The fact that the commander could suddenly lose mobility means that this commander probably pulled off some serious insubordination, but no one brought it up. It’s better to deal with this commander than with a madman giving the middle finger to both nations.
A commander who’s intelligent, compassionate, perceptive, and decisive. If only we hadn’t met under such circumstances, I could have liked this talent. It’s true that even in a twisted country, good people still emerge.
Thus, disappointingly so. It’s unfortunate that this poor talent has to endure such oppression.
“You’re being cocky.”
Setting aside my disappointment, I opened my mouth toward Alfonso. Since I’m doing something regrettable, I might as well remember his name.
“How dare a mere commander assess qualifications. Judging whether you have the right or not is for me to determine.”
I might not be too used to this manner of speaking, but I managed to get the words out. Right now, I need to be the decision-maker of the Empire and the judge of Quoronos’s fate. I have to be the strict, cantankerous bastard here.
“I am a Count, blessed by the great House of Livnoman, governing Tailglehen and Weiridia, and a member of the honorable Imperial Council. I also hold inspection rights over countless legions and aid in punishing the corrupted royal family while bearing the name of Risiragui’s knight.”
…Now that sounds like my titles have just doubled in length. I won’t be able to laugh when the Emperor starts throwing around titles for kings, dukes, and marquises anymore.
“But what about you? Do you seriously think you’re in a position to engage in equal dialogue with me, who bears such proud titles, just because you’re a mere border nation’s commander?”
“That’s…”
“How far do you plan to trample over the Empire?”
Alfonso’s pupils started to tremble at those words.
Sorry. It’s still not over.
“I am the Emperor’s agent. Acting under His Majesty’s command, I’m here to ensure the imperial army fulfills its duties of maintaining peace on the continent and to restore the shining mandate.”
And with that, I glared at Alfonso with the stiffest expression I could muster.
“I don’t understand when a mere commander has felt empowered to challenge the Emperor’s agent.”
Under my fierce barrage, it appeared Alfonso had lost his composure entirely.
He seemed to have completely zoned out.
‘Sorry…’
But I truly believe that it’s partially your fault for messing with the King…
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