Legend of the arch magus

Meanwhile, at a city near the Western Front of the Kingdom.

Lancaster, the oldest son and current successor of House Kelvin gnashed his teeth as he listened to his subordinate's report. He had not expected things to devolve like this. Just a few weeks ago, they were slaughtering the damnable dogs of the Empire. Now, not only have they lost Yorkshaire City, but it also seemed that the Imperial Army was currently marching towards his territory.

"General Rizel is personally leading them, my Lord," his men finished their report.

Lancaster knew this already. After all, just five days ago, the nearby city of Anatacia was ravaged to the ground by that damn bastard.

His head started to throb as he ordered his men to leave the room. He chugged down the bottle of wine, tossing the bottle to the ground as he finished. He leaned on his chair and sighed.

"Damn it," he growled. "God damn it."

A few weeks ago, the Kingdom horribly lost the battle at the Western Front and more than half of the soldiers Lancaster sent to aid the Kingdom lost their lives. To make things worse, instead of heading straight towards the Capital, the Empire started capturing the nearby cities one by one.

Right now, the army personally led by General Rizel was heading southwest. It would only be a matter of time before they arrive at Lancaster's territory.

Lancaster groaned. He felt like vomiting on the ground. He had never felt this pressured before in his entire life.

Most of his soldiers died in battle a few weeks ago. He could not see how he could possibly defend the City against the attack of the Empire with just a little more than a thousand soldiers under his command.

The King promised to scour up more soldiers and send reinforcements.

Where were they? He had sent numerous messengers to the Capital, but for some reason, none of them returned. Even the messengers he sent to the Kelvin Duchy to request reinforcements did not return.

Were they killed by the Empire?

Lancaster shook his head.

It was not impossible, but the probability of it was low.

Based on the reports of the scouts, the Army led by General Rizel would take at least two more days before reaching this place. There was no way for them to kill all seven messengers at once.

As he was contemplating on the next steps he should make, a pallid soldier entered the room. His face looked like someone who had seen a ghost.

"M-My Lord! T-The army! The army is here!"

Lancaster shot up from his seat. His eyes widened to the point of popping.

"Army? What army?! The reinforcement from the Capital finally arrived, huh?"

Just by looking at the terrified face of the man who made the report, it was apparent which army the man was pertaining too. But Lancaster tried to dismiss the thought with all his might. The army of General Rizel was supposed to arrive two days from now. There was no way they would suddenly appear here just like that.

Lancaster anxiously waited for the soldier's response. His head throbbed as he fervently prayed to the Gods.

"T-The Rizel Army, Sir! The army led by General Rizel was seen near the entrance of Ante Valley!"

Lancaster held his breath. His entire body shook as he tried to process the words the soldier spat out. Surprise and astonishment slowly turned into fear, and fear slowly turned into anger.

He roared, "What do you mean by Ante Valley! That's only two or three hours from this City! What are the scouts doing?! Why did they let the enemy come this close to our city without reporting?!"

The muscular son of Duke Kelvin grabbed his hair and ripped it out. He bit his lips hard and blood started flowing down. For a moment, his vision darkened with rage.

"M-My Lord? Are you alright?"

There was silence. The soldier swallowed dry spit.

Seconds seemed like eternity passed. Eventually, Lancaster gathered himself. He sighed and grabbed the suit of armor next to the wall and donned it.

"My Lord?" the soldier asked again.

"We're moving out," Lancaster finally decided.

He was afraid, terribly afraid of the Empire. After all, he only had a little more than a thousand soldiers at his disposal right now. If he idled here any longer, the Rizel Army would eventually reach the city and ravage it to the ground.

With great haste, Lancaster gathered his army. In just half an hour, all available forces started moving out.

A thousand and a half strong army.

Just this alone would not be enough to stop the Rizel Army, Lancaster knew this. But since his city was not enclosed in a wall, a siege was not an option.

He had no choice but intercept the enemies near the end of Ante Valley.

He planned on using the geographical advantage to hold them off here, at least until reinforcements arrived.

"Damn dogs," he mumbled. Their army was currently marching towards the valley. "Once the reinforcements from the Kingdom arrived, you'll see. It'll crush you damn bastards."

Since they knew this land like the back of their palm, they managed to get to the end of Ante Valley at the shortest time. He immediately sent out several of his most nimble men to scout the area ahead. A few minutes passed and the scouts came back with their reports.

"The Imperial Army just entered through the Mouth of the Naga, My Lord," reported one of the scouts. "By estimate, there's a thousand of them.

All are cavalry, sir."

The Mouth of the Naga was a famous location in Ante. It was the narrowest path when passing through the valley.

"Only a thousand soldiers?" Lancaster Kelvin doubted the report.

He frowned, "Ranz."

"My Lord," the leader of the scouts saluted.

"Form five teams and scout the surrounding area, just to be sure. I don't believe the Rizel army brought only a thousand soldiers with them. There's a very high chance that this is a trap."

Upon receiving their orders, the scouts immediately moved out. After some time, they came back. And to Lancaster's astonishment, it was the same report as before.

"My Lord, there are no other armies nearby."

Slowly, a smile formed on Lancaster's face. He could finally breathe a sigh of relief after confirming the number of enemies. Since the one thousand strong army was composed entirely of cavalries, there was a high chance that they were just the vanguard, that the rest of the army would follow soon afterwards.

This was a once in a lifetime chance.

Even if this army was just the vanguard, successfully annihilating them would halt the advance of the Rizel Army. Lancaster was hoping that it would buy them enough time, at least until the reinforcements from the Capital arrived.

Against an enemy of the same number, Lancaster was confident of holding his ground. After all, he personally trained the soldiers of his territory. He was confident that they would not lose even against the dogs of the Empire.

"Ranz, activate the traps once they leave the Mouth of the Naga," Lancaster issued out his command. "Elias Unit! Macaroth Unit! Intercept the enemies!

Make sure to block their path of escape! Archers, on me!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Yes, My Lord!"

Lancaster and his men moved out. The group led by Ranz spread out at the top of the valley, ready to push down several dozens of boulders towards the enemies below. As long as they moved towards the exit of the Mouth of the Naga, it would undoubtedly become their victory. The Imperial soldiers who would manage to survive the boulders would then be killed by the arrows. And just to be sure, the exit was also further blocked by the soldiers of Lancaster, leaving no way out.

The moment the enemies decided to enter this valley, they have thrown away their chances at victory.

How foolish.

Lancaster smirked. The cavalry below would soon reach the end of the Mouth of the Naga. With just a wave of his hand, boulders would rain down and crush the bastards to death.

Just a little bit more.

The army below did not even have the faintest idea that they were being surrounded in all directions by now. Just a little bit more and they would right below the traps.

And the imperial army suddenly stopped.

"What's happening? Why did they suddenly stop?" mumbled one of Lancaster's men.

Lancaster also had the same question in his mind. His intuition was telling him right now that something was not right. As he intently observed the enemies below, he noticed a middle-aged soldier issue out some kind of command. A few moments after that, the enemies roused their horses and like veterans, made their mounts turn and face the other way around. The sound of horses neighing reverberated in the valley.

To Lancaster's utter surprise, the enemies slapped their horses and moved out of the valley at a tremendous speed incomparable to before.

What's happening? Why were they retreating?

Lancaster found it regrettable that they were unable to thoroughly crush the bastards, but looking from another perspective, this sudden and unexplained retreat would work to his advantage. With this, they have bought themselves more time until the reinforcements from the Capital arrived.

"My Lord, should we give chase?" asked Ranz.

After a moment of hesitation, Lancaster shook his head. "Don't chase. But just to be safe, send several men to scout the area. I don't know why those bastards suddenly left the valley, but they might suddenly come back. Be ready to activate the traps at all times."

Ranz saluted. "Understood!"

Several scouts moved out to spy on the retreating imperial army. After receiving reports that the enemies had indeed left the area, Lancaster decided to go back to the city, leaving several scouts behind to report just in case the enemies came back.

But to his horror, what awaited him was a city in rubbles. Numerous dead bodies littered the streets and several decapitated heads were displayed on the entrance. The words 'Welcome Back' were written with blood on a wooden placard.

An ominous fog filled the entire city.

Lancaster's entire body quivered. He stared at the heads displayed at the city's entrance. Those agonized faces before death. Those lifeless eyes.

Without a doubt, those heads belonged to wives, daughters, and sons.

"What happened here?!" Lancaster growled, his voice reminiscent of an animal whimpering. "What happened to the city?!"

They have been gone for only a couple of hours but when they came back, the city was already in ruins.

Lancaster's eyes darkened with rage. He wanted to find and tear whoever did this into shreds. His intuition was telling him that the Rizel Army was involved in this.

Damn bastard. I'll kill him!

"Your orders, Sir?"

The officers of his army were trembling with rage. They, too, wanted to find the enemies and slaughter them.

"This fog is dangerous. We can't just go in. Be careful of—" "—Of what?" a voice interjected.

Lancaster and his men immediately pulled out their weapons upon hearing this.

Like a ghost, an old man started appearing from inside the fog. The old man was missing an arm and his left cheek had a large burn mark. Just these two characteristics alone were enough to reveal the identity of this person before them.

General Rizel. The Ghost of the Empire.

The fog currently enclosing the city was probably because of his magic.

"Rizel!" Lancaster's growl was that of a wild animal. He gripped his sword tight. Every fiber of his being was itching to cut down the bastard.

General Rizel chuckled, "Alvaren was right. It's indeed wiser to destroy the nearby cities first before attacking the Capital. Did you know? All the previous City Lords had the same expressions before they died."

Slowly, General Rizel's figure started blending with the fog. He smiled broadly, his eyes predatory. "They said that the Kelvin Duchy has the second strongest military, next only to the Marcus Army. But looking at you now… how disappointing."

The last few words echoed, and General Rizel's figure vanished entirely.

Lancaster and his men warily looked around them in anticipation of an attack.

Lancaster's eyes momentarily shook as he heard a familiar sound.

Arrows!

"Shields up!"

With his decades of experience in the battlefield, Lancaster managed to issue out the proper command at the most crucial time. The soldiers raised their shields and successfully blocked the valley of arrows that suddenly came out of the fog.

Lancaster skillfully parried the arrows that came his way using his sword.

The fog enclosing the city was becoming denser with each passing moment.

He knew that fighting in this place would mean death. Even his soldiers knew this too, but the mere fact that the enemies have occupied the entire city entrenched them to the ground, rendering them unable to retreat.

That cunning old man from the Empire purposefully made this city the battlefield to force Lancaster and his men to battle inside the thick fog.

They could still retreat right now, but what would happen to the residents in the city?

They heard of the cruel acts of General Rizel before. Without a doubt, if Lancaster and his men fell back, the survivors in the city would be massacred down to the last man.

The fog crept towards them, enveloping several of his men. From inside the fog, arrows shot out.

"Fall back! Get out of the fog!" shouted Lancaster.

But despite his orders, most of those inside the fog did not manage to get out. The name 'Ghost of the Empire' was proving its notoriety here.

General Rizel belonged to the last generation. Some even said that he's a relic of the past era. The battle tactic he was currently executing right now – The Fog of War – was well-discussed in military academies. Lancaster first heard of it back when he was still a student.

They said that once you're inside the Fog of War, it'll be impossible to get out. Even veterans of war would lose their lives. After all, it'll be impossible to defend against thousands of enemies without one's eyesight.

Even the supposedly impregnable Yorkshaire City fell in just a few days because of this cheap tactic.

"My Lord, we should probably retreat for now." Ranz finally said to him.

The fog continued creeping into them, as though it had a life of its own. If they dallied here any longer, they would eventually fall prey to the enemy.

Lancaster gnashed his teeth, "Damn it." He breathed in and shouted, "Retreat! All units on me! Retreat!"

The soldiers were a bit hesitant, since their families were inside the city, but they all understood that their Lord's order was the correct course of action right now.

With Lancaster at the lead, the army retreated towards the Ante Valley.

They planned on going northeast, towards the Forest of Aeowa, before heading straight to the Kelvin Duchy. The Duchy had at least fifteen thousand soldiers protecting its territory. Even General Rizel would hesitate before attacking that place.

"My Lord, the army of General Army is close to approaching this place," said Ranz. "If we don't hasten our pace—" "—I know already!" spat Lancaster. With the threat of the Rizel army behind them, Lancaster and his men hastened their pace.

Soon, they reached the Mouth of the Naga. The place where the traps were placed.

"Ranz, the traps!"

"Yes, My Lord! The flag! Pull out the flag!"

A soldier next to Ranz pulled out a red flag. Seeing this, the soldiers they left behind before – those stationed next to the traps – started moving at once.

The sound of hooves was heard behind them. Lancaster looked at the rear and saw a cloud of dust approaching their direction. It seemed that the Rizel Army had finally caught up to them.

Normally, Lancaster would be pallid with fear by now. But since they were finally at the Mouth of the Naga, he did not feel fear.

Lancaster smirked.

What a perfect timing.

With a wave of his hand, those traps would rain down their enemies. Even Rizel would not come out unscathed after being assaulted by dozens of boulders at once.

"Keep going!" he said to his men.

They still needed to pretend to be fleeing, at least until the Rizel Army was within the range of those traps.

"My Lord, it's been a pleasure serving you," said Ranz, his lips crooked into a smile. "But this is where we part."

Ranz slapped his horse and sped up. He took out a flag black flag and waved it several times.

Soon, the entire Mouth of the Naga rumbled. The ground shook and the horses neighed. Lancaster's eyes widened upon seeing the traps activate all at once.

"W-What's happening?!" Lancaster was baffled. "Why did the traps suddenly activate!?"

And then realization hit him. The reason why the scouts he sent out before did not come back. The reason why they failed to notice their enemies. The reason why the traps were activated now of all times, just when Lancaster's army was directly below it.

"Ranz!" Lancaster roared. "You piece of shit! You damn dog of the Empire!"

Despite the rumbling sound from the falling boulders, Lancaster's voice still managed to echo inside the valley.

Ranz, who had sped up ahead, glanced at Lancaster. Those smiling lips were clearly mocking his Lord. He was saying something, but the rumbling sound from the falling boulders drowned out everything.

And the boulders struck the retreating Lancaster Army.

Hundreds of soldiers were crushed to death at once, their armors flattened out and their bodies turned into paste. The boulders splintered upon impact and impaled those that managed to dodge the initial attack.

Even Lancaster did not manage to come out unscathed from the trap. His left shoulder was impaled by the splinters and the head of his horse was crushed by a flying rock.

Lancaster had no choice but to dismount and hide behind a small crevice until the rain of boulders stopped. By the time the clouds of dust cleared up, a gruesome sight revealed itself. Lancaster shuddered upon seeing the pools of blood flowing down the ground, the crushed bodies and dismembered limbs. There were around thirty or forty soldiers who managed to miraculously survive, but all of them were also wounded, and some were unable to even stand up.

Ranz and the rest of his men approached Lancaster. They all were looking at the survivors with eyes filled with mockery and disdain.

"Ranz, since when?" Lancaster gnashed his teeth. He wanted to stab the damn bastard, but with a wounded body, he knew he would not be a match for the leader of the scouts.

"I've been working for the Empire for more than a decade now," said Ranz.

Lancaster was stunned upon hearing this. Ranz started working for the Kelvin Duchy seven years ago. And it was only four years ago when he started serving Lancaster.

Then, it meant that Ranz never truly 'betrayed' him. He had never been his soldier in the first place.

"Sometimes, I regret working for the Kelvin Duchy. Maybe it would have been better if I infiltrated the House Marcus instead. Who would have known that the successor of the House Kelvin is this incompetent? How disappointing."

"Ranz!" Lancaster was about to draw his sword when a kick struck his wounded shoulder. He suppressed a scream of pain as his body rolled over the ground several times.

"My Lord!"

"Ranz! How could you do this to our Master!"

The surviving soldiers formed a barricade around Lancaster. They all took out their weapons despite their wounded bodies.

The Rizel Army chasing after them finally caught up.

Ranz bowed down upon seeing the General of the Empire.

"My Lord, it's been a long time," said Ranz.

The old man with a missing arm smile upon seeing Ranz. He looked at Lancaster who was struggling to get up, and the soldiers shielding him.

"Good work." Rizel pulled out his sword and started approaching Lancaster and his men. "You'll be assigned to a different Kingdom after this. Surely, you wouldn't mind?"

Ranz closed his eyes. "Of course. This faithful servant shall follow the Lord's command."

Rizel's figure blurred and moments after, several dozens of head flew into the air. More than half of the soldiers guarding Lancaster kneeled and fell down the ground, headless.

Lancaster shuddered. General Rizel was missing an arm, but he was still the monster described to them during his stay in the military academy. This so-called relic of the past era was a monster who could slaughter several hundred soldiers on his own.

And there's General Alvaren.

Two monsters – General Alvaren and General Rizel – were sent by the Empire for this war. For a moment, Lancaster doubted if the Kingdom would survive this ordeal. The enemies were simply too strong this time.

To make matters worse, General Rizel was not only strong in combat – he was also a genius tactician.

Who would have known that Ranz, his most trusted subordinate, was actually a dog of the Empire? Lancaster was sure that the Empire had also planted spies on the other Ducal Houses, and maybe even within the Royal Family.

Shit. Damn it.

"Kill me!" growled Lancaster. "Damn bastard! Just kill me already!"

General Rizel looked at him with eyes filled with amusement. He chuckled, "Kill you?" His figure blurred once again and the remaining soldiers fell on the ground, headless. "Do I look that stupid to you?"

General Rizel stabbed Lancaster's thigh with his sword. Blood spurted out and Lancaster groaned and fell down on one knee.

"You're the successor to the House Kelvin. As long as we hold you captive, the Kelvin Army will not move out."

Lancaster smirked. "Even if you kill me, my father can easily choose another successor of the family. My father wouldn't hesitate to abandon me."

"I know," Rizel grinned. "But Duke Kelvin is a coward. He will surely grab this as the perfect excuse not to participate in the war."

Lancaster stiffened. He knew his father very well. He was sure that his father would really use this as an excuse to preserve their forces.

"Tie him up," said Rizel. Several soldiers immediately grabbed Lancaster and tied him up. "And send a message to the Capital. Tell them that we have taken Lancaster Kelvin captive."

*** The news of Lancaster's defeat quickly spread within the Capital and the nearby cities of the Kingdom. Upon receiving the news of his son's capture, Duke Kelvin immediately made an excuse not to send out his forces for war.

King Alvis' head throbbed at this sudden development. He had not expected that the capture of a single city – of a single individual – would cripple a large portion of their fighting prowess in an instant.

Most of the military might of the Kingdom came from the three Ducal Houses. And now that one of them was using this incident as an excuse not to participate, they have literally lost almost a third of their overall forces.

King Alvis could use the crown to force the other nobles to participate in the war, but it was a different matter for the Ducal Houses. Each of the three Dukes held power comparable to the Royal Family. If he antagonized one of them, now of all times, civil war might break out.

After some contemplation, King Alvis made up his mind. He donned a plain shirt, removed all his accessories, and put on a dirty-looking cloak. He went towards the slum area, accompanied only by two of his most trusted guards.

"Your Majesty, are you sure about this?" one of his guards whispered.

Although the three of them were wearing dirty-looking clothes, the residents were still intently staring at their direction. Despite their disguise, the regal movements of King Alvis were easily seen by a discerning eye. "Stop asking questions and follow me," the King whispered back. On his hand was a glass bead the size of an egg. Inside the glass bead was a pointer, which acted like a compass. No matter where they went, the pointer kept pointing to a certain direction.

King Alvis managed to make contact with the Dwarven Kingdom, thanks to this artifact. And now, he was using this in hopes of sending a message to the Dwarven King. Thankfully, despite the constant stares, none of the residents of the slums bothered with them. The two guards the King brought with him smelled dangerous, deterring any malicious intent from befalling their group.

Their group finally stopped in front of a shabby-looking bungalow. The broken door was haphazardly patched up with planks, and the glass of the windows had several cracks.

After again checking the glass bead's pointer, King Alvis was finally sure that this was the right place.

He sent a signal to the two guards and they nodded back. King Alvis knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

"Maybe, no one's home?" the King mumbled.

For a moment, he was worried that their journey here was all for naught.

The King knocked again. No answer.

One of the guards grabbed the handle of the door and twisted it. To their surprise, the door creaked open. They stepped inside and dust flew about.

King Alvis coughed several times.

"Your Majesty—" "—I'm fine," King Alvis waved his hand. "More importantly—" They all looked at the man sleeping on the bed. He was short, his height reaching only until the chest of King Alvis. He was snoring softly, mumbling incomprehensible words every now and then.

The guards stared at the man in bewilderment, while King Alvis slowly smiled.

Their journey was not in vain. The glass bead was right. There was indeed one – a point of contact.

After the negotiations with the Dwarven Kingdom broke down, the previous dwarven envoy left the Kingdom. Luckily, the glass bead pointed the King to another member of the Dwarven race.

"He's drunk," said one of the guards.

Next to the bed were several empty bottles of alcohol.

"Wake him up," said the King.

The guards walked up to the man and shook him up. Eventually, the snoring stopped and the man opened his eyes. Upon seeing the guards, the man jumped up and shrieked.

"W-Who are you?!"

The man looked around for any available weapons at his arsenal before realizing that there was none. Eventually, he decided to settle for the bottle of wine on the ground. He waved the bottle threateningly, his eyes swiveling between the guards and the silent King.

The King stepped forward and signaled the guards to stand back. He pulled out the hood of his cloak and revealed his face.

Upon seeing him, the man was baffled. His grip on his weapon – the wine bottle – loosened. "T-The King?" His voice was almost a whisper. "What is the King doing here?"

The man could not comprehend what was happening. Why would such a powerful figure suddenly enter his abode? This pungent slum which reeked of the word 'poverty.' The King flashed his kindest smile. "Sorry for intruding. We knocked several times, but no one was answering."

The man looked at the King, at the guards, then back. He was at a loss for words right now.

"You're a member of the Dwarven Race, aren't you?" the King went straight to the point.

Like a splash of cold water, this question removed the man from his stupor.

He creased his brows after finally realizing what the King was here for.

"I heard that the negotiations between the Kingdom and the Dwarves broke down." The dwarf sat on his bed and put the wine bottle down. "I'm a nobody. It's impossible for me to contact the Dwarven Kingdom."

Despite those words, the hope within the eyes of King Alvis did not vanish.

This dwarf knew of the negotiations between King Alvis and the Dwarven Kingdom. Contrary to what he said just a while ago, there was no way he was just a nobody – only those within a considerable position would know about the negotiations several months ago.

"If it's impossible for you to contact the Dwarven Kingdom… then maybe you know someone who can?"

The dwarf shook his head, his long brown beard moving along with it. "No.

I don't know anybody. Please! Get out!"

The guards glared at the dwarf but King Alvis wordlessly told them to stand still, to stand back.

"I see. It's such a shame," King Alvis sighed. "I guess I'll have to find another dwarf to give this two-hundred-year-old wine."

King Alvis skillfully showed a small bottle of wine behind his cloak, then quickly hid it. The dwarf, upon seeing the red liquid sloshing inside, swallowed hard.

"T-Two-hundred-year-old?!"

King Alvis inwardly smiled upon seeing the flustered face of the dwarf. He slightly bowed his head, "We apologize for the intrusion. We'll be on our way then."

King Alvis turned around and walked towards the door. The guards immediately followed suit.

There was no hint of hesitation within those footsteps. The dwarf knew that if he did not stop these guys from leaving, they would really leave this place.

The words 'two-hundred-year-old wine' kept resounding within the dwarf's head. Even in the Dwarven Kingdom, such a precious bottle would be hard to find. Forget the cost. It was not something money could buy.

"W-Wait!" the dwarf croaked the words out. "Please wait!"

King Alvis halted. He prevented a smile from forming on his lips. With an unfazed, stoic face, he turned around and asked, "Yes?"

"I was not lying when I said that I have no means of contacting the Kingdom," said the dwarf in quick successions. "But I know someone who can!"

The King gave out a practiced smile. "You know someone who can?"

The dwarf nodded. "Yes. But—" He pointed at right side of the King's cloak where the bottle was hidden. "—In exchange."

"—Of course," the King nodded his head in understanding. "This bottle of wine. It will be yours."