The sight of the 80,000-strong Northern Army was overwhelming.
Even setting aside Fenris's reputation, the sheer size of the force was enough to intimidate even the most powerful lords.
Leading this formidable army was the "strongest in the North," Count Fenris himself.
Though their mission was to deal with the Rifts, the lords along their route feared that this sword might suddenly turn on them.
The soldiers of the Northern Army felt the tension in the air. Even the troops from other territories found themselves standing straighter, their pride swelling.
"See? I told you it was the right choice to defect," said a middle-aged man, stroking his finely groomed beard with a smirk. He was the leader of a group of spies who had defected from Desmond long ago.
Surprisingly, his contributions and abilities had earned him a position as a commander of one of Fenris's cavalry units.
"Exactly! Life is all about timing," another man chimed in.
"I was glad I listened to the leader back then. I was so scared when I fought with Rodrick. Honestly, I almost switched sides again," said a third, chuckling nervously.
The two men were now adjutants under the former spy leader. The mention of betrayal made the leader frown.
"Shh, keep your voices down! If people hear us calling me 'spy leader,' they'll get suspicious. And don't even joke about betrayal. We've worked so hard to clean our records. If anyone finds out, we're dead. We didn't betray anyone—we simply made the right choice for the times."
"Ah, right! You're absolutely correct," one of them said sheepishly, scratching his head.
Though they had betrayed their former lord, these three had proven themselves capable and hard-working, earning them favorable evaluations in the Fenris territory.
Still, there was one thing that nagged at them...
"Hey, why does the spymaster always smirk when he sees us? Do you think he knows something?"
"Come on, no way. If he knew, wouldn't we all be dead by now?"
"Right, it's probably just in our heads," the commander muttered, shaking his head.
Ever since Desmond's fall, they had occasionally caught Ghislain, the head butler, or the spymaster giving them sly grins as they passed by.
'No, there's no way they know. We burned all the documents in the intelligence training center the moment Desmond fell... They couldn't possibly know. We've worked so hard to show our loyalty to the territory.'
They convinced themselves they were valuable contributors, hardworking and trustworthy. After all, hadn't they risen from the labor units to their current positions?
Surely, they weren't being kept alive simply to be used...
The leader swallowed hard and pushed the thought aside.
Aside from their unease, the morale of the Northern Army was at an all-time high.
The sheer size of the force, combined with the presence of the famed Count Fenris and his elite entourage, created an atmosphere of invincibility.
Ghislain studied the map and turned to Gillian.
"We'll arrive soon. But the Rift has already expanded quite a bit."
"With the slow pace of our march, it couldn't be helped. At least the local residents have been evacuated," Gillian replied.
"Tch, even with all the urging…"
The pace of the Northern Army's march was far from satisfying to Ghislain. The massive force consisted mostly of infantry, and they were also transporting food supplies and weapons, which naturally slowed them down.
In truth, the speed wasn't bad, given the army's size. Most lords would be astonished by how quickly they moved.
But if it had been just the highly mobile Fenris forces, they would have arrived long ago.
Ghislain clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Pushing them any harder would be impossible."
Even now, the soldiers at the rear were gasping for air, struggling to keep up. Regardless of morale, they simply couldn't match the standards of the Fenris troops.
And yet, advancing with only Fenris forces wasn't an option either.
"How many are there now?"
"The last report estimated around 100,000 Riftborn. It's likely even more by now."
No matter how elite the Fenris forces were, going up against 100,000 Riftborn alone would result in staggering losses.
The failure to eliminate the Equidema in time had led to an explosive increase in the Riftborn population.
The lords near the Rifts had tried to hold back the expansion, but the sheer numbers of Riftborn had forced them to retreat repeatedly.
The only silver lining was that it took time for the corruption to spread, preventing the Riftborn from roaming too far.
"Tell them to push a little harder. We're almost there," Ghislain said, rallying the troops as they trudged on. Understanding the severity of the situation, the soldiers did their best to keep moving.
After days of forced marches, the Northern Army finally arrived at their destination—a territory closest to the Rift.
Near the makeshift barricades marking the defensive line, rows of tents had been hastily erected.
The ragged soldiers standing guard brightened immediately upon spotting the Northern Army.
"The Northern Army is here! They've arrived!"
"Count Fenris is here!"
"We're saved! We're saved!"
The soldiers, battered and worn from fighting the Riftborn, looked more like defeated stragglers. Their relief at the Northern Army's arrival was palpable.
A filthy man ran toward Ghislain, barely managing a proper salute.
"Lord Commander of the Northern Army! I'm Baron Spenvel, in charge of the defenses here."
"Hmm? Where's the lord?" Ghislain asked, narrowing his eyes.
"H-He's evacuated to a safer location!"
"A pathetic coward."
"....."
Spenvel could only bow his head in silence.
A lord's duty was to protect their people, a responsibility that granted them their rights and privileges. For a lord to flee first was utterly disgraceful.
'This kingdom's nobility is rotten to the core,' Ghislain thought, clicking his tongue in disapproval before asking about the situation.
"How far has the corruption spread?"
"T-The Rift now encompasses one castle and three towns. They've all fallen to the Riftborn."
That amounted to the size of a small barony. It was too late to attack from the outside.
Ghislain sighed.
"To kill the Equidema, we'll have to fight our way through."
The Equidema wouldn't leave the vicinity of the Rift. As such, battles against the Rift usually involved mainly fighting Riftborn.
But in cases like this, where the Riftborn had already spread unchecked, breaking through to the Equidema would mean suffering heavy losses.
Hearing Spenvel's report, Ghislain's advisors exchanged grim looks.
"The speed of this is alarming."
"They've already expanded to the size of a small territory."
"If we don't handle this quickly, the entire kingdom will be overrun."
Unlike the others, Ghislain wasn't surprised. Compared to his past life, this wasn't particularly fast. As time went on, the spread of corruption would only accelerate.
This territory was succumbing to corruption faster than others, and there was a reason for that.
"It started in a small village, didn't it? Show me the village's location."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Baron Spenvel unfolded a map and pointed to a location—the village where the Rift had first appeared.
Rifts that emerged in villages expanded faster than those in castles or cities.
In Ghislain's previous life, there had been a hypothesis that undeveloped areas with untouched nature allowed corruption to spread faster because there were fewer obstacles and an abundance of mana.
After looking at the spot Spenvel pointed to, Ghislain nodded.
The location was clear. Now it was time to sweep away the Riftborn and kill the Equidema.
"Move your troops to the nearest evacuation shelter. There must be an empty castle or city nearby, right?"
"T-That's still… not ready…."
Ghislain's expression darkened, and he grabbed Spenvel by the collar.
"I gave orders to prepare quarantine spaces for soldiers exposed to the plague. I sent multiple messages, multiple official notices. And you didn't create any?"
"T-The lord refused… He said setting up defensive lines and holding them would be enough…."
"Idiot."
This was the problem. Even when solutions were handed to them, there were always those who refused to listen out of greed.
Emptying cities and castles reduced economic activity and production, which in turn decreased tax revenue.
Unwilling to sacrifice their finances, such lords often sent their soldiers to die unnecessarily.
Ghislain had dealt with this in the West by making examples out of a few disobedient lords. But those outside Fenris's direct influence dismissed Ghislain's warnings.
He decided to escalate.
"By the authority vested in me as Commander of the Northern Army, I hereby strip Count Heseltine of all his titles and rights. The charge is treason. Understood?"
"W-What? Lord Count!"
Spenvel turned pale. Treason? Was that something that could be declared without evidence?
It was preposterous. Not even the powerful Marquis Branford would dare such a thing.
If a lord was branded a traitor, all their vassals would be implicated and face death. Spenvel couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"The kingdom's safety was jeopardized because of his incompetence. That's as good as treason. Don't worry, though. Only Heseltine will face punishment. From now on, you will be the lord of this land."
"Me? The lord?"
"Yes. Immediately select a few knights and order them to evacuate a nearby city. Relocate its residents to another city. Fenris will ensure they are compensated. Use only knights who can manipulate mana as messengers. Understood?"
Knights were relatively safe from diseases thanks to their ability to manipulate mana, which acted as a shield. Therefore, they were best suited to serve as messengers.
Spenvel, overwhelmed by Ghislain's authority, nodded.
"Y-Yes, sir. Understood."
"You're the lord now. Anyone who objects can come talk to me. Consolidate the forces and wait at the evacuation shelter. Marquis Branford will send medicine to your location soon."
"B-But, Lord Count, that won't be easy," Spenvel stammered.
Naturally, Count Heseltine had loyal vassals and noble connections bound by blood. Accusing him of treason seemed a stretch, and the count still had soldiers under his command.
If Spenvel declared himself lord, Heseltine wouldn't stand idly by.
But Ghislain was not one to make empty threats.
"Bring me the captain of the 8th Cavalry Company."
The former Desmond spy leader, Harrison, arrived with a puzzled look.
"My lord! Captain of the 8th Cavalry Company, Harrison, reporting!"
"We've met a few times, haven't we?"
"Y-Yes!"
"I've heard you're quite capable."
"Uh… Yes, my lord?"
Why was Ghislain bringing this up? Harrison broke into a nervous sweat, sensing something unusual.
'Did they find out? Are they going to execute me?'
The two adjutants behind Harrison also looked uneasy.
Thankfully, Ghislain's next words were not a death sentence.
"Take your company and apprehend Count Heseltine. Tell him it's my order. If needed, you can invoke Marquis Branford's name. If they resist, kill them all. Understood?"
"Yes, my lord!"
Relieved that his cover hadn't been blown, Harrison responded with a loud and cheerful voice.
Watching the situation unfold, Baron Spenvel stammered.
"L-Lord Count… Is this really allowed?"
This wasn't the North. Even if it was on the fringes, this was part of the central kingdom.
Not even the Northern Army Commander had such authority. His power extended only to military matters within the North, and even then, it was limited.
Only the royal family could strip a lord of their title, even for crimes akin to treason.
But Ghislain had no intention of playing by the rules anymore.
"When it comes to the Rifts, I have full authority. Follow my orders. I won't tolerate more casualties because of fools. You've fought bravely to defend against the Rift. Consider this position your reward."
Faced with Ghislain's chilling gaze, Spenvel bowed his head. He had only been following orders, yet now he found himself a lord.
'Wow, I'm a lord now?'
Fenris's reputation for delivering generous rewards was no exaggeration.
Though he was initially overwhelmed, Spenvel quickly realized this wasn't a bad deal. Coming from Count Heseltine's strong backer, no one would dare challenge it.
With Fenris backing him, confidence surged in Spenvel.
'I'd better listen carefully.'
If he obeyed, the rewards were great; if not, punishment was severe. Spenvel saluted firmly, having swiftly grasped Ghislain's personality.
"I will send messengers immediately and prepare my troops to evacuate to the nearest city!"
"Do so."
Ghislain's decisive action brought swift resolution. Spenvel's troops, now under his own command, began preparing for withdrawal.
With the Northern Army set to eliminate the Equidema, there was no need for Spenvel's forces to remain. Once the Equidema was destroyed, a smaller contingent could return to monitor the Rift.
"Let's go."
Ghislain led the Northern Army steadily toward the Rift zone.
Soon, they arrived in a region shrouded in a thick, blue mist.
As they entered, faint animalistic growls echoed in their ears.
— Grrr….
[T/L: Please support me and read 385 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]