Lancer's arrival at the frontline was impossible to conceal. After all, he was the nominal commander of the imperial forces, and his presence immediately triggered an exaggerated "chemical reaction" on both sides of the battlefield.
The Imperial Army's morale surged overnight. Lancer's previous feat—effortlessly annihilating the northern tribes and "piercing" through all opposition at the northern fortress—had convinced them that victory was at hand. Conversely, the rebels lived in constant dread. For the very same reason, some even tried deserting in the early chaos. However, their desertion was swiftly halted. As for how?
Those deserters' corpses had been mysteriously flung back, mangled beyond recognition—and Honest had reappeared before his trembling men.
"We have no retreat! That man won't let us live! Running means death! Surrender means death! Fighting is our only way out!"
As the saying goes, cornered soldiers fight the hardest. Driven mad by fear, these rebels instead unleashed unprecedented ferocity on the battlefield.
Lancer, however, paid no attention to this. Within his tent at the military camp, he grimly studied a tactical map.
"Based on our scouts' intel, the Honest's command post could be in any of these positions."
"Multiple positions? What's going on here?"
Liver tugged irritably at his beard. His expression was dark—after all, intelligence had been working for over a month since the rebellion erupted in the south, yet their information remained frustratingly vague.
"It's not their fault," Lancer interrupted. "Honest has someone who can use a teleportation-type Teigu. He relied on it to escape the palace initially. But what I need now is his most likely location."
The intelligence officer breathed a sigh of relief at Lancer's unexpected defense, though Lancer's subsequent icy gaze reminded him quickly: this man wasn't some kindly benefactor, but a butcher whose hands were drenched in blood.
"According to reports, Honest frequently appears in central squares across various cities lately, giving speeches to reassure civilians and intimidate them into fighting us. Our scouts have attempted assassinations multiple times, all unsuccessful."
Continuing public appearances despite assassination attempts—was Honest overconfident, or was it a trap deliberately laid out?
Regardless of which, Lancer had no choice but to step into it. Honest's movements were unpredictable; this was his only shot.
"Tomorrow, the main army will storm the city. You'll infiltrate ahead of time. I'll be on the main battlefield—if Honest shows himself, signal me immediately. We'll attack from both sides and take him down in one strike!"
"Yes, sir!"
...
It had been a year and a half since Lancer arrived in this world. He had fought dozens of battles, large and small. Some feared his reputation, others privately whispered about his ruthlessness—but no one could deny his strength.
When he appeared on the battlefield, spear in hand, it signaled the climax of battle.
When he shattered the enemy's ranks, it signaled the battle's end.
But today, his heart felt conflicted like never before.
Against the northern tribes, he had justified slaughtering them by their barbaric customs. But now, facing soldiers manipulated by Honest's lies, he felt an unexpected pity—not for the fools who willingly stepped onto the battlefield (for anyone who chose war forfeited their right to life), but because, just like him, they were victims of Honest's twisted schemes.
Even now, Lancer refused to believe Esdeath had kidnapped Leone. In his eyes, it was obviously Honest's foul play.
He had known Esdeath for months now, and he understood her. She was purely obsessed—with battle, strength, and little else.
If Lancer trained himself relentlessly out of fear for an uncertain future, striving desperately just to survive, Esdeath trained merely to become stronger. Given her personality, kidnapping would never suit her style. She'd far prefer to openly challenge him to a proper, all-out duel.
And yet..
When Lancer stood at the frontline, gripping his lance, he saw something he had never expected.
Still clad in that familiar tribal attire reminiscent of the northern tribes, with icy blue-white hair flowing behind her, Esdeath walked forth. Sparkling ice crystals danced across her limbs, leaving a trail of frozen ground wherever she passed, confirming the reality Lancer least wanted to see.
"Esdeath…?" he muttered involuntarily.
An elegant smile spread across her lips.
"That's right. It's me."
Esdeath, swayed by Honest? Impossible! Had he bribed her with Teigu? No—even then, once empowered, Esdeath would never obey Honest's whims. She didn't serve Honest. She served only strength itself.
But as Lancer was busy piecing things together—nearly guessing the truth—Esdeath suddenly clapped her hands. Several people emerged carrying a palanquin. Lancer's eyes narrowed instantly.
Could it be Honest?
Unfortunately, it wasn't Honest who emerged from within—it was Leone.
Her wrists were bound by ice shackles. The moment Leone spotted Lancer, she instinctively tried to rush towards him—but the icy ground surged, swiftly encasing her lower body, turning her into a living sculpture.
The shock and fleeting joy on Lancer's face vanished instantly, replaced by cold fury.
Seeing his expression, Esdeath's smile widened into an almost feverish delight, a disturbing flush coloring her cheeks.
"Wonderful!! Truly wonderful!! Just as I knew it! Hahaha!!"
Then, to the astonishment of Lancer and every single person present, she dispelled Leone's ice restraints completely, casually shoving her toward him.
Lancer caught Leone instinctively, feeling her shivering, frozen body in his arms. Confusion flashed across his face; he couldn't comprehend Esdeath's motives.
"Come! Fight me with everything you have! Let me declare this openly—if you lose, I won't kill you. Instead, I'll torture this woman to death in front of everyone and then set you free. I want you to come back stronger, driven by hatred, and fight me again!"
"You've gone insane!!"
"Insane?" Esdeath laughed wildly. "If that's the price of power—then yes!!"
Without another word, Esdeath swung her hand forward. A massive pillar of ice surged toward Lancer, growing larger as it approached until—
BOOOM!!
Shattered ice rained down, and beneath it, a deadly serious Lancer sprang forward, lance in hand!
In Lancer's eyes, Esdeath had truly lost her mind. This wasn't mere obsession—it was pure madness. He knew she meant every twisted word, which meant he absolutely had to win!
---
A/N: Honestly, I've read the manga thoroughly, so there's no way I'd portray Esdeath as resorting to something as low as kidnapping Leone as a hostage. To me, Esdeath is simply battle-obsessed. Her disdain toward the weak stems from her twisted heart. Though Esdeath and Lancer might clash ideologically, as a self-admitted masochist (lol), I do rather enjoy her character. At the very least, I wouldn't ruin her characterization with out-of-character nonsense.
Esdeath has entered the stage, and Honest won't be far behind. This volume is nearing its end, and some earlier developments that frustrated readers will soon be reversed. Honestly, I wrote everything so far with this twist in mind. But perhaps due to my inexperience or poor execution, some readers didn't like how things unfolded… sigh. Thankfully, this volume is the only one with a primarily negative tone. Hopefully, subscriber numbers will pick up again from volume 2.5 onward…
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