Revenge of the Iron-blooded Sword Hound

Chapter 451: Declaration of War (2)

Numerous documents lay scattered across the desk.

Despite each report detailing different issues, the word written at the end of all of them was the same.

Defeat. Defeat. Defeat. Defeat. Defeat.

And the person staring down at them spoke in a heavy voice.

“……The Western Front has collapsed.”

Respane Morg.

As the head of the Morg Clan spoke, the atmosphere in the conference room grew tense.

The Iron-Blooded Swordsman Clan Baskerville, the Mage Clan Morg, the Religious Quovadis Clan, and the influential Bourgeois Clan had gathered for a crucial alliance meeting.

The main agenda was the current state of the ongoing civil war.

The Poisonous Clan Reviadon.

A Clan renowned for its poison-making skills since the era of the Warring States.

Recently, Reviadon had absorbed the power of the Donquixote Clan and the Divine Archer Clan Usher, and they’re rapidly increasing their strength.

Respane frowned as she spoke.

“Dealing with the ‘Poison Humans’ created by Reviadon is more challenging than we anticipated. An army of crazed beings who have lost their sanity, spreading disease wherever they go…”

“The ‘Red Death.’ Those infected lose all vitality and eventually perish. After death, they become puppets… living corpses, if you will. It’s difficult to even describe.”

Cardinal Martin Luther of Quovadis also had a troubled expression.

Morg and Quovadis, primarily dealing in magic and divine holy power, had suffered relatively fewer losses.

On the other hand, the knights of Baskerville, who fought directly with swords, had sustained significant damage from the attacks of the Poison Humans.

Had it not been for Osiris, the young head, and the seven counts excelling in various skirmishes, they would have lost a considerable portion of their territories.

Eventually, everyone’s gaze turned to Damian, the representative of the Bourgeois Clan.

“Wasn’t the Bourgeois Clan allied with Reviadon in the past?”

“Hmm. That was during the time of the previous head, so I’m not entirely sure.”

“But aren’t you the current head?”

“Strictly speaking, I’m the acting head. The actual head of the Bourgeois Clan is currently elsewhere…”

“Even so, didn’t you obtain a significant number of the secret documents? We’re not blaming you, but please share any information you have.”

At Cardinal Martin Luther’s polite request, Damian began to speak.

“Many documents were lost, so I don’t know the details. However, I do know that the Red Death was initially tested on native tribes of the Red and Black mountains. When the natives surprisingly managed to contain it, Reviadon, alarmed, developed a more infectious and lethal variant. The result is the Poison Human Army currently defeating our troops daily.”

The monsters created by Reviadon were as strong and fierce as demons but lacked intelligence and moved solely under the control of their masters.

Additionally, they exuded a red mist that drained mana and sapped vitality upon contact, turning even healthy people into monsters if inhaled for long.

Reviadon had even absorbed the remnants of their former allies, the Usher and Donquixote families, to create more Poison Humans, growing stronger by the day.

Adolf Morg, the leader of the Light side, spoke with a furious expression.

“Losing the Western Front means we’ve lost all the rubies we painstakingly mined. We’ve worked so hard to extract those ruby veins! Damn Reviadon bastards!”

“The world is becoming more chaotic with the rise of heretics and cults. It’s giving us a headache.”

“Wildfires, drought, famine, monster outbreaks, disease, and now heretics and cults… It’s the end of times.”

Cardinal Martin Luther and Damian also had dark expressions.

At that moment, a new voice spoke up.

“……Didn’t I tell you we should have prepared earlier?”

A sharp voice criticized the leaders of Baskerville, Morg, Quovadis, and Bourgeois.

Professor Banshee, or rather, Principal Banshee of Colosseo Academy, crossed his arms with a disapproving look.

“Not only are the young blood of the families dying, but innocent civilians are also being killed. People are what matters, not some worthless rubies.”

“What did you say? When did I ever say people were less important? I only mentioned the rubies because I’m in charge of the mining!”

Adolf, the leader of the Light side, and Banshee, formerly of the Dark side, did not get along.

Banshee scoffed at Adolf and the others.

“If you had thoroughly re-investigated all the incidents when my student was unfairly judged in court, this wouldn’t have happened. We wouldn’t have let Reviadon grow this powerful.”

Banshee had been one of the most ardent supporters of Vikir’s release when he was imprisoned.

He glared at those who had opposed, been indifferent to, or did not support Vikir’s release back then.

“Blinded by personal interests, you ignored and silenced crucial issues… and this is the result! While demons run rampant, what have you all been doing?”

At Principal Banshee’s words, many lowered their heads or averted their eyes.

Then, representatives from other schools attempted to calm the situation with forced smiles.

“Haha, this isn’t the time to assign blame.”

“Principal Banshee, please calm down. We have more pressing matters.”

“Indeed. The immediate concern is how to stop the Poison Human army created by Reviadon.”

Basilios, the director of Varangian; Hippolite, the principal of Temisquira Women’s College, and the Tower Lord ‘Whitebeard Whale’ of Mage Tower, all looked anxious as they tried to soothe Banshee.

They were worried that the united alliance might fracture again.

“……”

This issue also concerned Banshee, so he remained silent, merely looking displeased.

Basilios, who had become the new Director of the Varangian Military Academy, consoled Banshee.

“Thanks to the involvement of our wonderful students, the situation has improved significantly.”

“Yes, with more student soldiers joining the fight, our numbers have increased.”

“While we may not be able to overwhelm the Poison Humans, we can at least balance the situation somewhat.”

Despite the words of Hippolite and WhiteBeard Whale, Banshee’s expression remained displeased.

“How fortunate you all must feel, covering the mistakes of adults with the sacrifices of students.”

“……”

“Moreover, the notion that the intervention of the academies has balanced the situation is unfounded optimism. Realistically, students are just fledglings that professors must protect. The participation of student soldiers does not significantly boost our strength. It’s merely a coincidence that the timing has worked out.”

No one could refute Banshee’s accurate assessment.

Principal Banshee’s eyes gleamed as he continued.

“Reviadon is currently recalling their Poison Humans to their headquarters. There are numerous indications that they are deliberately losing battles and retreating to make it look natural.”

“Why would they retreat in such a favorable situation after collapsing the Western Front?”

Banshee paused for a moment.

“……”

After a brief silence, Banshee spoke in a slightly more respectful tone than before.

“They’re consolidating their forces. Making it appear natural by feigning defeat.”

At these words, the expressions of all the leaders grew serious.

Reviadon was secretly gathering their forces.

No one was foolish enough not to understand the implication.

Reviadon was undoubtedly preparing for a massive, decisive battle to determine the outcome of the war.

A force combining Reviadon, Usher, and Donquixote.

If their Poison Human army, spread across the nation, gathered and advanced, the might would be tremendous.

It was likely to be the final showdown that would determine the fate of the war.

“……The problem is, we don’t know where, when, or how they will strike.”

Everyone nodded in agreement at Respane’s words.

Where, when, and how.

Out of these three, the most crucial was “where.”

It was essential to station defensive forces in advance at likely battlegrounds.

The scholars of the time began to put their heads together to figure this out.

Soon, various regions were identified as potential targets for the attack.

“It might be Red Castle, where the massive ruby veins flow. Since rubies are the best conduits of magic, they would be eager to secure them…”

“Or perhaps Dortsmile? It’s the hub of the magic train facilities, so destroying it would cut off the alliance’s supply and distribution lines…”

“It could be Saint Mecca, where the ‘Red Death’ was first discovered. The first instance of the Red Death was found in a well in the slums there, so something might be hidden in that area…”

Political reasons, strategic reasons, cultural reasons, and many other factors were presented with detailed analysis and justification.

A hundred schools of thought contended.

Everyone suggested different locations.

All of them could potentially be targets of Reviadon’s attack, making it difficult to pinpoint a single area.

…Just then.

“Tochka.”

A voice broke the discussion.

No evidence was presented, but it was a voice filled with certainty.

Everyone in the meeting turned their attention to the speaker.

“……”

A cold, imposing demeanor.

An aura as sharp as a blade emanated from his entire body.

Every movement exuded the scent of blood, and his gaze felt like a drawn sword.

It was Hugo.

Hugo Le Baskerville, the head of the Iron-Blooded Swordsman Clan, Baskerville.

He looked down at the map and spoke again.

“They will go to Tochka.”

Despite the absolute certainty in his voice, everyone questioned him.

“Fort Tochka? Why that remote highland area?”

“It has good defenses, but there’s no water supply for drinking, so it holds no tactical value.”

“Anyone with even a basic knowledge of strategy would avoid such a place.”

“Reviadon has no reason to attack that area.”

“Do you have any basis for this?”

Hugo responded simply and succinctly.

“My son is there.”