Regressor of the Fallen Family

Regressor of the Fallen Family Chapter 142

“It’s merely the activation effect of the spell. Endure it!”

Uttering an excuse that would hardly be believed, he wielded the magic crystal of madness to consecutively cast spells.

Now targeting enemies other than the original goal, Wicken Callian.

The movement of the Valdermaine knights, who had been climbing over the walls, became abruptly sluggish, exposing their weaknesses one after another, and the tide of the battle gradually returned to equilibrium.

‘Yordan, you could never do this.’

A benefit of being a mage who could support the prince and make a direct contribution to the battlefront.

No matter how Yordan Valdermaine was treated as an equal superhuman, this was something he could never achieve.

‘So come out, Yordan.’

If an enraged Yordan came out himself, the hidden dagger left beside them would strike at the neck of the second prince, without the need to use the last resort.

The eyes of Juan Douglas glistened with slyness.

“Wicken Callian is already here?!”

There was no response to Yordan’s muttering.

It was too much to expect anyone to know the full situation of the battle unless they were viewing it from above the sky.

Yordan merely smirked, not having expected an answer in the first place.

The withdrawal of McLaine was a wrong move, an asset they wanted to cherish and study.

“I’ve saved it for nothing. Use that thing!”

“Yes!”

“Keep pushing! We’ll soon end this civil war!”

“Yes!”

Following Yordan’s orders, several carts dashed beneath the walls.

And shortly after.

Loud explosions began to erupt in various places atop the walls.

Boom!

Bang!

Rumble!

“Break through! Continue the advance! Hurry the soldiers!”

The firepower of the Liberatio turned the tide of battle back towards the second prince’s forces.

And with that momentum, the advance of the second prince’s army continued.

The first prince’s army, despite the addition of Wicken Callian and the high walls, started to be gradually overwhelmed.

However, the first prince’s army had its own trump card yet to play.

“Detonate everything!!”

The moment the ice tower mages on the wall shouted, a series of white explosions of cold erupted, minimizing the impact of the explosions caused by the Liberatio.

Soon enough, the stockpile of Liberatio held by the second prince’s forces ran critically low.

“Blizzard Scrolls!! They still had that many. Crafty devils!”

“To think that a trump card would be completely revealed here.”

While both sides’ leaders spat curses simultaneously, screams continued to burst forth from the ramparts.

Neither the attackers nor the defenders could afford to retreat.

“Their weapons are finished! Destroy them all!”

“They’ve played all their cards! Finish it!”

The second prince’s army, minus McLaine, sought to secure the upper hand.

The first prince’s army faced an uncertain future if it lost its momentum.

The battle between the two factions, unable to retreat, produced the most intense battlefield since the civil war began.

When the battle ended that day.

Both sides, having suffered massive casualties, had no choice but to enter a standoff once again.

However, the outcome of that day’s battle held more significance than any of the previous ones.

The major nobles from both factions, who had been fighting while carefully avoiding damage to their direct forces, suffered the most losses since the outbreak of the war.

In a conventional war of comparable scale forces, such losses were inevitable, but for the major nobles, the toll was unimaginably terrible.

Both forces, now preoccupied with damage control after the battle.

And from that day on, the course of the civil war began to change once again.

* * *

After overcoming a major crisis, not even a day passed before the information received made the McLaine father and son smile.

“Everything has gone as expected, actually even better. Now, due to the grudges accumulated against each other, they can’t possibly settle for just any fight.”

“Yes, it has indeed turned out that way.”

Logan had expected that if Roger Bifrost leaked information to the first prince’s army, they would intercept them with an army of at least two counts, or forces comparable to that.

The original plan was to defeat them in an ambush, fake heavy casualties during the eastern gate assault, and then withdraw from the faction.

But Bifrost’s forces following directly behind changed everything.

The fact that the force intercepting them included Wicken Callian himself and the Kaihl Knights was an unexpected crisis, but fortunately, he could overcome it with minimal damage.

Eventually, everything worked out better than planned.

It now seemed like the path to end this civil war was truly before them.

Logan conveyed his feelings to his father about the next plan, brimming with emotion.

But throughout the conversation, Patrick’s expression was not good.

“…Logan. Is it really impossible to withdraw from the faction now?”

The question, weighed down by a pale complexion due to lingering injuries, sounded serious.

Logan firmly replied.

“Yes. Whether it’s the first prince or the second prince, after they take power, they will not leave us alone.”

“But the second prince’s faction…”

“Yordan Valdermaine may forget favors, but he never forgets a grudge. Even in the best-case scenario, we will still face immense pressure.”

“…Right. That does make sense. But is your plan really possible?”

“We have to make it possible.”

“Huh… If so, it might be better to just observe the situation for a while. Do we really need to take such a risk?”

“…I’ll talk about that after returning to the capital. As of now, there’s no guarantee that the plan I mentioned will proceed as is.”

Patrick fell into thought for a while and then heavily nodded his head.

“Alright. Then, that’s that… Cough!”

Cough. Cough.

“Father!”

Patrick’s sudden coughing was tinged with blood.

As Logan started up in alarm, Patrick waved him off, assuring his son.

“Ah, it’s alright. I still have some internal injuries. It’s fortunate to be in this condition considering an aura-user’s malice passed through me.”

Patrick forced a smile with his pallid complexion, but Logan, watching him, couldn’t manage to smile.

“We’re out of high-quality potions. It’s best to see a priest quickly.”

“I’ll do so. Don’t worry. I can hold on until then.”

“But still…”

“Stop worrying about me. It looks like you had serious injuries too. Seriously, that aura was more vicious than I thought.”

“Well, as for me…”

Logan’s complexion wasn’t great either, but he had the luxury of confidence that he didn’t necessarily need to use potions to recover in a few days.

“I should recover in a day or two.”

“…Haha. The injuries seemed more severe for you. Youth is truly great.”

Really? Is it because of youth?

Uuum.

Feeling the faint vibration of his heart’s force core, Logan sighed softly.

“Once you return, make sure to call a priest. Don’t try to deal with it alone.”

“Of course, lad. I’m not someone who stubbornly insists on doing unnecessary things.”

Are you, though? Did you ever do that?

Logan pressed down a mocking laugh and quickly changed the subject.

“I think I’ll head to the capital right away.”

“Now? Immediately?”

“Yes. The sooner, the better.”

“Then go. I’ve come this far trusting your words, so I should trust you to the end.”

“Thank you, father.”

“To thank me, you would have done it even if I opposed, right?”

“Ah… Haha. Well, surely not.”

Feeling slightly caught, Logan averted his eyes, and Patrick chuckled, his expression finally softening a bit.

“Yes. That too.”

Knowing that his son’s strength had now clearly surpassed his own, Patrick ended the conversation with a proud smile.

And that night.

A figure darted from the McLaine camp and vanished like the wind to the northeast.

On the road back to their territory.

Rumors circulated within the McLaine army that the heir, having relapsed from injuries obtained in a clash with a superhuman, had emptied a carriage and was receiving focused treatment while restricting access.

As evidence for the rumors, elite knights were seen standing guard around the carriage.

But the soldiers, elated at the thought of finally returning home, gradually paid little attention to the absentee heir.

* * *

“Let us in!”

“We too are citizens of this nation!”

“Open the city gates!”

In the capital of the kingdom, Grandia, the massive citadel Gran was brimming with a staggering crowd of people from a distance.

As the civil war caused turmoil nationwide, the number of refugees seeking the “safest city,” Gran, had been increasing.

What these refugees didn’t realize was that the population of Gran was already overflowing beyond its capacity.

The number of ‘residents’ living outside the citadel, surviving compared to ‘citizens’ living inside and outside the main and secondary walls, was much greater in this sprawling metropolis.

And even those outside residents could not now enter Gran’s interior.

Knights with the emblem of a phoenix rising to the heavens were ruthlessly driving back the very citizens they were supposed to protect.

“Ah! Why! Why?!”

“If you come any closer, we’ll cut you! Back off!!”

Amidst the clamor of screams and overwhelmingly loud cries of anger, a brown-haired, brown-eyed mercenary frowned.

“…When did it come to this?”

“What would I know? Those crazy lot won’t let people in, wanting to save themselves… I tell you, I’m losing my mind! It took me a good two weeks to walk here! Oh, Lord, I’m boiling with rage! Young man, are you a mercenary?”

“Ah, yes. Well, for now…”

“Good on you for making it. Apparently, those faction whatsits, they’ve started conscripting low-rank mercenaries from all over.”

“Is that so? Luckily for me then, I guess.”

The mercenary uttered that he was lucky but maintained an oddly stern expression.

‘It’s much earlier than in my previous life.’

With that in mind, the current crowded situation…

“When the nobles just fought among themselves, it was at least manageable. But now, they’re dragging people from every castle, pillaging crops – how can we survive this mess?”

A haggard-looking middle-aged man lamented while the mercenary, Logan, could only wear a bitter expression.

The fact that the nobles were conscripting even the lowly mercenaries they wouldn’t usually spare a glance meant one thing.

‘They will wage an all-out war without looking back.’

All of this was the result of his actions.

The events that had unfolded in his previous life were now occurring a full two years ahead of schedule.

‘After all, it was something that needed to be done. To swiftly put an end to this chaos.’

With his lips tightly pursed, Logan’s figure vanished like a lie in the midst of the crowd.

“Since you’re a mercenary, maybe talk to those knights over there… Oh, heavens? Where did he go so suddenly?”

One of the disheartened refugees was left searching for the suddenly vanished conversation partner.

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