Chapter 275

Chapter 275

As Ivan delved into the fifth military camp, his sense of smell detected an unusual odor. It was the faint trace of a scent that his nerves, pushed to the extreme since entering the Demon Realm, barely sensed.

Ivan brought his axe down, shattering the struggling orc’s skull. The orc, three times the size of the others, crumbled without even a scream.

He slowly lifted his head. The smell was an unbearable stench. While it wasn’t surprising for demons to possess such filth, this odor was different.

It wasn’t a scent from demons or beasts. It was the body odor emanating from human sweat. The kind unique to humans who hadn’t rested in a long time.

It was the distinctive smell exuded by humans under stress, tension, and extreme situations.

“Who goes there?”

Ivan straightened up from his hunched position in the ruined camp. From the opposite direction, the western thicket rustled, hinting at an approaching presence.

He placed a hand on his pistol and took a moment to breathe. In the spot his gaze fell upon, a figure staggered to its feet.

“...”

Ivan paused for a moment as he recognized the individual.

A frail, almost emaciated figure. Standing at 178cm, most of the armor was shattered, with only a shoulder pad and insignia left in shabby condition.

His unkempt hair and scruffy beard obscured his face. If encountered in Frechenkaya, he would have been mistaken for a beggar from the slums.

However, Ivan silently offered a military salute. After a brief moment of silence, the man reciprocated the salute.

Only then did Ivan speak.

“You are alive....”

“Just like you.”

The old man’s eyes glimmered beneath deep wrinkles. His gaze was sharp, like a finely honed longsword. One could only wonder how long he had wandered here, but there was a sense of endurance that remained unbroken even in the face of hunger, cold, and the fear of survival.

“Duke Volonovin.”

“Ivan Petrovich, Colonel.”

The two exchanged a solemn nod once more.

Beyond the Grand Gate of the northern front, he was the one responsible for removing threats from the Demon Realm, managing the population, and running colonial administration.

A noble with the most extensive territory in the nation, yet a soldier without even a single parcel of land within the country’s borders, a war hero loyal to the nation long before he even opened his eyes in this land.

The reason the Empire could expand its territory threefold.

‘The Hangman Duke,’ Mikhail Arturovich Volonovin. A more familiar name would be ‘The Sword of Conquest,’ the Reaper of the North...

He was someone whom Ivan believed had perished the moment he lost control of the northern demon realm.

And for such an individual to appear in this state before him meant that...

“What remains of your forces?”

It indicated that at least some combat troops were still intact.

He was definitely not the type to throw himself into the demon camps for a hopeless suicide. He was someone who would keep fighting until death.

Unless he had lost his achievements while preparing to raid the demon encampment, Ivan turned his head toward the thicket. The stench wafting from Duke Volonovin was coming thicker from deeper within the forest.

The Duke replied calmly.

“Seven thousand.”

“That’s... more than expected.”

“Is it really?”

The Duke chuckled bitterly. It was a significant number indeed. Leaving behind an armed force of seven thousand, completely isolated in enemy territory without a supply line or rear support, was nothing short of a miracle.

However, considering the cost of that miracle, it might be seen as proof of his incompetence rather than his abilities.

“Most of the subjects in Krasilov from the colonial realm were killed in the first assault. With nothing left to protect as a soldier, the operations became simpler. If it’s just for survival, they could live longer.”

“It doesn’t seem that way.”

“True. I didn’t live just to survive.”

He smiled with a gaunt face. It was a smile that reeked of blood.

“Your oath said, didn’t it? ‘Do not grieve for those who have left first,’ correct?”

The Duke said this as he waved his hand. Soon, men hidden among the thickets and branches began to emerge one by one.

The men with the appearance of defeated soldiers gradually revealed themselves. They were thin, shabby, and all bore wounds, with very few possessing intact equipment.

Yet, each carried a fierceness more potent than any strong soldier.

“Our oath, while establishing our military presence and colonial administration in this land, was different from yours, Colonel Petrovich.”

The Duke took a deep breath, turning to face what lay behind him. Then, a voice emerged from a man well past his seventies, more powerful than one would expect.

“Only—!! Death—!!”

“Your Majesty, an envoy... the envoy has arrived.”

“...An envoy? From whom?”

Elizaveta asked with tired eyes at the voice outside the barracks. They hesitated to respond.

It was a strange occurrence. Only one man in this land had the right to not answer her question.

This meant that something unusual had transpired. Elizaveta bitterly smiled as she walked out of the barracks.

Under the pale sun hanging in the sky, her soldiers had surrounded someone in a tight circle. Spearheads and gun barrels were raised towards the outskirts of the camp.

As she appeared, the guards quickly stepped aside. The throng parted for her like reeds blown apart by the wind.

She walked straight to the open area at the edge of the camp, narrowing her brow as she walked through.

Five goblins were unsteadily watching her.

“Goblins?”

“They are envoys from the Seven Dragon Lords, Your Majesty. They were requesting an audience in an unarmed state.”

“Demons sending an envoy. Has such a thing ever happened?”

“There are no records of it, Your Majesty.”

Listening to Dmitri’s words, who had started to accompany her, Elizaveta walked up to the goblins. The goblins merely smiled at her, showing no signs of bowing.

The atmosphere in the camp suddenly became tense. There was an overwhelming urge to crush the necks of those demons and mash their flesh.

Despite their terror, the goblins did not lose their smiles. Seeing this, Elizaveta stopped and nodded her head.

“Speak. What does your leader convey?”

“Hehe, oh human king. We, we are not well-versed in etiquette, so we shall relay our lord’s words as they are.”

One goblin, who was grinning maliciously, stepped forward. Clang, clang. The soldiers simultaneously aimed their weapons at it. Even under that threat, the goblin lifted its chin and shouted.

“If you surrender that girl, we can spare half your kingdom.”

“How dare—!!”

The guards raised their spears in unison. With the momentum suggesting they might attack at any moment, Elizaveta raised her hand.

At the same time, the spearhead that had almost reached the goblin’s throat halted. Drops of blood trickled down the spear.

Looking down at the terrified goblin, Elizaveta spoke softly.

“To send an envoy means you wish to respect human culture. I understand your leader’s intentions.”

“Y-yes?”

“You no longer see us as prey.”

Elizaveta turned to her soldiers, surveying them. They bore faces filled with defeat from the recent battle at the Grand Gate, the long retreat, and the loss of every city in between.

Her voice resonated towards them.

“Look. They fear us. Even a people once called gods request to ‘talk’ following our culture. Is there a predator who converses with its prey? Is there an executioner who speaks with their condemned prisoner! An envoy! Their god requests peace on the same level as us!”

“Y-you human!!”

Interrupting the goblin, Elizaveta continued her outcry.

“There are no gods in this land anymore! Have your gods forsaken us? No, that is not true! They have acknowledged we are no longer children in need of protection! They have deemed those ‘false gods’ remaining in this land as not a threat to us any longer! Oh, my greatest men, look! Are the gods not begging for dialogue from us now!”

Krasilov! Krasilov! Krasilov!!

The soldiers shouted in unison. The thunderous cheers filled their pupils, making the goblins flinch.

One goblin screamed amidst the chaos.

“Is-is the answer a refusal, you, human!!”

“You wanted her head, didn’t you!!”

Elizaveta turned to look down at the goblin. The one whose gaze met hers turned pale with fear and staggered back.

“If that is what you want, come and take it!! Convey that to your false god!!”

The gates of the camp swung open wide again. As the goblins staggered backward, not a single soldier attacked them directly.

No harm should come to envoys between states. This was the principle of the United Kingdom. The moment they began distinguishing other humans as not just ‘humans’ but as ‘humans of Krasilov,’ the soldiers needed to adhere to the same principle with the demons as well.

They were not some inescapable disaster or calamity. Just an ‘enemy nation.’ That had been proven, and would continue to be proven.

And, this was not the gravest threat Krasilov had faced, nor would it waver as it had throughout its long history.

Elizaveta could walk back to the camp with a lighter step than before.

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