Have you never seen one before?
Even though several magic cannons exploded and devoured their own soldiers, about 80% of them were still doing their job properly.
"What kind of damned cannons explode 21 times out of 100?"
"Because humans don't have dwarven craftsmanship."
"Then why not just buy them from the dwarves?"
"They don't sell them."
Magic cannons were classified as strategic weaponry by the Verft Kingdom, and exporting them was strictly forbidden.
While Berze sneered, the shells traced arcs through the sky and turned the enemy camp upside down.
With weight, acceleration, and gravity behind them, they crushed knights' shields and exploded, swallowing everything around them.
Compared to the magic cannons Logar crafted, these were pathetically inferior—but they were still magic cannons.
For seizing control of a battle, this much was more than enough.
The enemy formation completely collapsed, and the 3rd Prince drew his sword.
"Charge! Let these traitors—who dared raise their blades against the Empire—learn the might of the Empire!"
Waaaaaaaaah—!
Along with the screams and roars, Rozel Charnt opened with fire.
A massive fireball fell into the chaos and turned the battlefield into hell.
Behind her, the Blue Hawk Mage Battalion unleashed spell after spell.
Next came Hillen Cargill, the Crimson Hawks, and the White Hawk Knights charging in.
Crackle—
Lightning surged.
The distance between the two forces closed rapidly.
Human-made magic cannons—from Berze's perspective—were weak.
Thus, a fair number of enemies survived.
Especially the knights who protected their bodies with aura—most of them lived.
Though "lived" was generous—they were in no condition to fight.
Even if wrapped in aura, a human body facing cannon shells was still a human body.
KWA-AAANG—
A crushed shield spun into the air. Knights without any crests on their armor screamed as they were hurled away.
Hillen yanked on his horse's reins, charging even faster.
He held a sword in one hand and hurled lightning with the other.
The White Hawk Knights supported him from behind, severing enemies' necks so the path Hillen carved would not close again.
Then a massive aura-clad knight blocked his path.
CHAAAANG—!
The enormous shockwave split the air.
Horses staggered and the formation wavered.
"Hillen Cargill…!"
It was the man who had spoken with Martin earlier—now spitting rage and venom.
Pure white aura clashed against lightning.
The fierce sparks forced nearby knights to take a step back.
"Cowards—using magic cannons…!"
"I don't think that's something a traitor who attacked an imperial prince should be saying."
"Such a shame the circumstances are like this. Were it not so, I would have gladly crossed blades with you honorably."
"So, are you His Highness the 1st Prince? Or the 1st Princess?"
"I don't know what you mean."
From the enemy lines, retreat horns sounded.
"We withdraw for today. But next time, do not expect it to go so easily."
"Who said I was letting you withdraw?"
Hillen's sword strikes grew fiercer—but he could not chase to the end.
Martin forbade pursuit, wary of an ambush.
***
"Failed?"
"Yes."
"So the glory of the White Lions amounts to only this much?"
"They say the 3rd Prince prepared magic cannons."
"Magic cannons?"
"Yes. Dozens of them fired at once. With the soldiers panicking, Hillen Cargill and the White Hawk Knights charged."
"Magic cannons… magic cannons…"
Rufus let out a dry laugh.
Magic cannons were never commonplace.
Most human nations barely used them; even the Empire rarely deployed them outside a few fortresses.
The only kingdom that used them extensively was the Acan Kingdom, and even they fell far short in number and quality compared to the Verft Kingdom—the original inventors.
So he never imagined the 3rd Prince would bring magic cannons.
Much less that he would fire them on his own assigned troops.
'So that's what all that commotion was about?'
Between Hillen Cargill visiting the 3rd Prince and the 3rd Prince informing the Emperor of dark mage activity—there had been a considerable gap.
He must have prepared them then.
But preparation alone is one thing.
Execution is another.
The once soft-hearted 3rd Prince had openly shown his fangs.
He had not been like this in the past.
What changed?
'The 8th Prince.'
He was certain the boy's death had changed something inside Martin.
'Interesting.'
So he wants to fight for real now?
"What are the casualties?"
"They say our forces were hit while retreating in panic—not in proper battle."
"The number."
"About 41 men."
"Dead?"
"That number includes fatal, severe, and minor injuries altogether."
"Out of 150… 41 dead or injured…"
It was by no means a small number—especially considering the victims were the elite of a ducal house.
"What is the Knight Commander doing?"
"He has retreated for now and is reorganizing. Awaiting Your Highness's orders."
"And Martin?"
"He has increased his pace."
"With Hillen Cargill by his side, he'll be unstoppable, won't he?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"That won't do."
"…Your Highness?"
"I said it won't do."
This one incident wouldn't decide everything, of course. The foundation Rufus had built was incomparably greater than Martin's.
But even one instance of things not going according to his will displeased him.
"If only he would simply remain content with the place he deserves."
Humans were far too greedy.
Why do they covet what is not theirs?
"Tell Calum that I entrust my younger brother to him. And that he had better not disappoint me a second time."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"What of Floyan's side?"
"Still no word."
"Useless—every last one of them."
Tsk. The noble reporting bowed slightly at the sharp cluck of Rufus's tongue.
"Increase our pace. The monsters are few anyway; no need to dally."
Everyone knew that in the end, they would all meet and fight the final battle together.
But Rufus had confidence. In his own strength—and in the Hero he had brought with him.
"You."
"Yes, Your Highness."
The man silently guarding the 1st Prince bowed his head.
"If we increase our pace, slaying some dark mage should pose no issue for you, correct?"
"Of course. My blade will accomplish whatever Your Highness desires."
"Reliably said."
A satisfied laugh burst from his lips.
"Hillen Cargill and you—who is stronger?"
"…"
"Is it such a difficult question?"
"I was simply debating how to phrase something so obvious without being disrespectful."
"Phrase?"
"Well, he is a Hero who slew two Demon Kings. One must preserve at least the man's honor."
Kahahahahaha!
The prince roared in laughter.
"You all heard that?"
"Yes, Your Highness!"
"Advance."
His gaze turned icy.
***
KWA-AANG—
A blast of red flame struck the canyon wall.
A soldier hiding behind the rocks, drawing his bow, melted without even managing a scream.
"Ugh, this is pissing me off!"
Rozel Charnt bit her lip and lifted herself into the air. Waiting arrows shot toward her, only to be devoured by flames.
But the arrows were just the beginning.
Magic of all kinds rained from above, relentlessly interrupting her casting.
If she tried to push in through the damage to burn everything down, they fled like cowards.
After being defeated once, the enemy had changed tactics.
Using magic to collapse the upper canyon walls…
Digging traps into the ground…
Gathering what few monsters existed to lure them…
Or lying in ambush, launching surprise attacks…
Their harassment was so persistent that swearing came naturally.
They delayed the 3rd Prince's march with dogged tenacity.
Hillen, Rozel, the 6th Prince, the White Hawk Knights, and the Blue Hawk Mage Battalion did everything they could to block them—but with monsters joining in, there was no preventing delays.
And that was exactly what the enemy wanted.
"At this rate, we'll only arrive after His Highness the 1st Prince has already severed the dark mages' heads."
"We must ignore them and keep moving."
Their advisors had a point—time was slipping away.
"Hm…"
But they could not simply ignore them either.
Prepared defenses were nothing—
Ignored, however, the damage would be significant.
"It is not a problem."
The voice that resolved his dilemma was Hillen Cargill's.
"Not a problem?"
"The gorge is complicated. Without a guide, no one will make it straight to the center."
Hillen himself had only traversed it easily because of Berze. Alone, he would have wandered the maze for ages.
"I know that, but trusting only in that is too dangerous. My second brother hired Daphner Philian. Do you truly think my eldest brother is less prepared?"
"Of course not, Your Highness. But I am referring to something else."
"Something else?"
"Being the first to arrive will not be advantageous."
"You believe the dark mage is that strong?"
"Yes."
"Their numbers are gathered, and the miasma remains—but in the end, they're merely dark mages, are they not?"
"Is that truly what Your Highness believes?"
"I suspect a Demon King's involvement. But even so, they cannot be too impressive."
A Demon King was a Demon King.
A dark mage was a dark mage.
Even with a Demon King's blessing, they had limits.
And throughout a thousand years of history, dark mages had never been that remarkable.
"This time is different."
"Different how?"
"Dark mages are indeed weak. They have always been nothing more than the Demon King's lackeys."
"That is true."
"Hm."
Nobles nodded one after another.
"But this time is different."
"How exactly?"
"Hapstline Gorge is vast. Treacherous terrain, overflowing with monsters. That is why the Empire declared it forbidden."
"Yes."
"But after entering the gorge—have you seen anything befitting a forbidden zone?"
They had met many monsters.
But nothing close to "forbidden-zone level."
"The dark mages gathered them. At least hundreds—perhaps thousands. I believe no one here fails to grasp how significant that is."
They had simply dismissed it out of habit—because dark mages had always been weak.
They assumed it was mere desperation.
"...!"
"...!"
"Of course, with four imperial heirs and the Empire's elites gathered, calling it 'desperation' is fair."
They surely hadn't gathered all monsters.
And true monstrous beasts would not be controllable.
Berze had said so himself, lending credibility.
And to control them at all, they must have forcibly turned many into undead—weakening their quality.
But their numbers could not be ignored.
Hundreds—maybe thousands of undead would pour out.
And after crushing them, the true undead the dark mage had spent years constructing would emerge.
Hillen could not be certain of the strength of the other heirs' forces.
But the casualties would be enormous.
"In fact, it may be better to move at a steady pace and let His Highness the 1st Prince engage them first."
"But if my brother kills the dark mage…"
"I have witnessed them myself. It will not be easy. At the very least, the dark mages here are unlike any we have encountered before."
That sealed the argument.
Martin was a man who listened to reason.
And Hillen's words, backed by experience, carried weight.
"So we need not be impatient."
"That is my view, Your Highness. Though of course, we cannot know what forces the other princes have, nor how they will act."
"That is natural. Very well—we follow Sir Hillen's suggestion. But that does not mean we move slowly. Only that we abandon impatience."
"We obey!"
In truth, little changed.
The 3rd Prince's army advanced as before—carefully, steadily, prepared for ambushes.
After several days like that—
They reached a junction of five branching paths.
"Which way?"
"This way, Your Highness."
"Your Highness—someone approaches."
"That is…?"
From another path, a large group emerged.
The 3rd Prince's forces, initially wary, tilted their heads in confusion.
These were nothing like the ambushers who had been harassing them.
The imperial crest of the golden dragon was plainly visible.
A force numbering over a thousand carried overwhelming pressure simply by existing.
But something was wrong.
"There are wounded."
More than just a few.
Their expressions and atmosphere were far from friendly.
They were attacked.
As the distance between the groups closed, the other side slowed their approach.
Someone rode ahead on horseback.
Seeing the golden dragon engraved on the armor, Martin spurred forward to meet him.
"Seeing you here is… unexpectedly pleasant."
"Brother."
"It appears…"
His gaze swept over the 3rd Prince's army.
"You were ambushed as well."
"Yes. And it seems the same happened to you, Brother."
"Indeed. Marlene really clawed at my nerves."
Khuhuhu—
The 2nd Prince, Floyan Jespine, let out a vicious laugh.
"And your assailant was our elder brother, I presume?"
"That is my belief."
"Both born from the 1st Empress… I suppose this is why. They bicker and quarrel constantly, but when it comes to dealing with you and me, they always band together."
The 2nd Prince ground his teeth, clearly having suffered much under the 1st Princess.
"So then… shall we join forces?"
"What do you mean, Brother?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. If Brother and Marlene have joined hands, there's no reason we should sit here and get beaten, is there?"
"But Your Highness does not particularly like me."
"Well, you're better than those two. And it's an temporary alliance anyway. After we knock them out of the running, I plan to get rid of you immediately."
"I do appreciate Your Highness's honesty."
"Save the flattery. Give me your answer."
"A temporary alliance… Very well."
There was no reason to refuse.
In moments, a new alliance formed, and the two groups marched together.
After a brief period of reorganizing, they resumed their advance toward the center of the gorge.
At that moment, a shadow leapt over to where the Heroes were gathered.
"It has been a while, Lady Rozel."
"Daphner?"
It was one of the "Stars," Daphner Phileain.
"It's been a while for you as well, Sir Hillen."
"Lady Daphner."
"I heard you slew two Demon Kings. A shame I couldn't see it with my own eyes."
"Had you been there, we would've felt even more secure."
"And yet you managed it without me, did you not? Never did I imagine I would witness a Hero who slew two Demon Kings in my lifetime."
"Oh look at this—what a lovely little mutual admiration society."
Rozel snorted at the way the two Heroes praised each other.
And then—
"…Hm?"
"Lady Daphner?"
Daphner's gaze slipped past Hillen's shoulder.
"You."
The Crimson Hawk members stiffened.
"You look… strangely familiar."
And among them, she pointed with perfect precision—at Berze.
"My dear…"
Her amber irises shifted, taking on an unusual sheen.
"Have we not met somewhere before?"
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