A weary historian dies and finds himself in a different world awakened in a life as the notorious young Duke of a southern state. His nation is weakened, his army underfed, and his neighbors revolve around his lands menacingly. No one believes his land is going to hold out until winter.

But this newfound duke is no naive simpleton his enemies recollect. He carries with him the experience of centuries of war and empire, of starting and ending monarchies. From Caesar to Napoleon, from the Mongols to world wars, he has learned from each of them—and his strategy is to make history his very own arms.

He organizes his smashed levies into well-trained formations, rebuilds his castles, and turns his villages into supply centers. Where others see defeat, he senses opportunity. As he triumphs, rumors spread: of a pennant red as winter snow that shall not go to ground, of a bloody duke who writes his name in gore and flame.

Is he a savior who's constructing a new empire, or a tyrant who's going to bring the world to endless war?

Baron Ilmund's flames tore through the blizzard, turning flakes to steam, corpses to ash. The world glowed orange and red, the once-white battlefield now a field of molten snow and ruin.


Justinian stood at the center of it all, his breath steady, armor still dripping blood.


"So this is the god's chosen," he muttered. "A flaming idiot on a horse."


Ilmund heard him and grinned, his teeth gleaming beneath the inferno.


"You mock divinity even now? Let's see how long your arrogance lasts, Duke!"


He raised his sword high, and the snow caught fire.


The crusaders roared behind him. Their blades shimmered with divine heat, their eyes shining like burning coals. The god Arethrus had heard their desperation and answered.


[Divine Buff: Flames of Purity – Active]


[All enemy units gain +50% Strength, +50% Morale]


[Duration: Until the Divine Vessel falls]


Justinian's system rang coldly, like a bell tolling in a storm.


Chapter 98 - A Temporary Ceasefire