Ch.162162. Army of Vengeance

Today’s weather was clear and vivid, without a single cloud in the sky.

It was early autumn. With cool breezes blowing and warm sunshine beaming down, it was confidently the perfect time for outdoor activities.

The empire’s final battle, set to unfold in this weather and season, was scheduled to take place on this vast, wide-open plain.

A sprawling plain with a large road, located northeast of the former imperial capital of the Rom Empire.

Except for a gentle slope that increased toward the capital, it was an almost perfectly flat terrain—a landscape created as a blessing from the ancient earth goddess.

This location, the only passage from the eastern regions of the Rom Empire to the capital, was now occupied by tens of thousands of troops—followers of the blood-spilling God of Vengeance.

Behold them, look upon them.

Here, the avengers who will destroy the empire have gathered.

At the forefront of all forces stand warriors in black armor, distinctively unadorned compared to other soldiers.

Rather than forming tight, solid formations, they maintain moderate spacing between them, armed with short weapons and medium-sized shields specialized for chaotic combat.

These are the Holy Shock Troopers—those who have committed sins and seek atonement through martyrdom, bearing symbols of sinners engraved on their chests.

Behind the black-armored warriors stand soldiers in red armor, lined up in formation.

Their armor shares the same basic design as the black warriors of the Holy Shock Troopers, but…

These soldiers wear armor that differs only in its blood-red color.

This red armor, unmistakably reminiscent of blood to any observer, was covered with decorations symbolizing the military achievements they had accumulated.

Seals with parchments densely written with accomplishments fixed with red wax, various splendid medals, and even tallies of enemies killed engraved directly onto the armor.

These soldiers, adorned with various magnificent decorations signifying honor and glory, were armed with spears and shields large enough to cover their 2.2-meter frames.

They were the elite infantry of the Avenger Legion—those who had sworn to dedicate their lives to the God of Vengeance, fighting until death.

Their souls and bodies were strengthened to the extreme by the blessings of the God of Vengeance, and they had been tempered through countless battlefields and dungeons, fighting and fighting again.

As a result, their skills and training made them worth a hundred ordinary soldiers each. Each one was a superhuman warrior capable of hunting mid-tier beings when they gathered together.

Naturally, these superhumans did not merely serve as infantry.

Among the legion soldiers standing motionless with extreme discipline, massive beasts with low growls had taken their positions.

While they appeared to be wolves with thick, blood-red fur, what distinguished them from ordinary wolves was their extraordinary size.

If compared to other beasts, they resembled bears—fire bears.

Literally as large as fire bears, or perhaps even larger, these beasts were called Blood Wolves for their blood-stained fur.

As servants of the God of Vengeance, they lived in His divine realm—the Blood Wilderness—and were said to be too ferocious to be tamed, and yet…

To the followers of the God of Vengeance, they behaved like affectionate puppies. These Blood Wolves wore red armor resembling barding, with soldiers of the Avenger Legion mounted on their backs.

On their left arms, the riders carried copper-colored shields large enough to cover their bodies; in their right arms, lances several meters long suitable for tucking under the armpit.

At their waists, they carried auxiliary weapons according to their personal preferences. These wolf cavalry exuded a ferocity not seen in ordinary heavy cavalry.

Meanwhile, positioned slightly behind them were those who, at first glance, did not appear particularly formidable.

These were members of the Fallen Legion, the Legion of the Black Sun, followers of the God of Vengeance.

Thirty thousand strong.

Originally defenders of Elandia who were betrayed there and defected, these additionally baptized and corrupted individuals…

Seemed largely unchanged from their pre-corruption days, except for their standards and legion emblems having changed to black suns.

Nevertheless, they were still an imperial legion, once regular troops of the world’s strongest nation.

Moreover, they had strengthened themselves through various methods—earning military achievements, offering sacrifices—blood—at temples, and more.

Unlike their outward appearance suggested, they too were part of the chosen avenger forces proclaimed by the Great Red-Robed King, the Blood-Spilling God of Vengeance himself.

And interspersed among the Black Sun Legion…

Stone golems in the form of towers with limbs stood in rows.

At their tops were direct-fire ballistas operated by two soldiers each, while in their hands they held enormous shields or hammers—massive stone weapons.

These giant golems, literally walking watchtowers and fortresses, were new bodies given to warriors who could no longer fight in their original forms.

Warriors who craved vengeance—encased in these armored bodies made of enchanted stone and metal instead of fragile bone and flesh.

As these warriors glared with burning hatred, hundreds of war machines were aimed forward from the slope at the very rear.

The soldiers had fixed various weapons to the ground, aiming them forward.

They were ready to pour down a barrage at any moment, as were the mages and priests beside them.

Some priests in particular were attached to grotesquely decorated golems—these were walking buff units topped with the Bloody Eagle Totem, a sacred artifact of the Vengeance Cult.

And somewhere within this army…

Among these forces armed with hatred, vengeance, and sense of mission, there were renowned individuals worthy of being called heroes.

At the front of the Holy Shock Troopers, at the very forefront of all forces…

A valiant figure stood holding a battle standard without the slightest movement.

Holding aloft a blood-red staff with fluttering black banners, adorned with striking skulls and crosses—a first-class sacred artifact of the Vengeance Cult—was the Holy Shock Trooper Commander, Chosen Persha.

Selected by the Blood-Spilling God of Vengeance to lead and command the sinners.

At the forefront of the heavy cavalry mounted on Blood Wolves was one who possessed the power of a “demon.”

With red horns and wings, a swishing tail, clad in dark red armor, riding a fallen pegasus whose wings and skin had turned black, transforming it into a demonic beast.

One who had transformed into a Half Demon after realizing all truths.

Her name was Helena Valerinus.

Among the mages preparing spells in the rear was a madman dressed in red beneath white robes.

Constantly raving in place and acting with theatrical exaggeration—a figure deserving the reputation of this era’s greatest lunatic.

Grand Mage-Scholar Lunifer Ficentrius was, despite his antics, simultaneously performing tasks worth dozens of others.

Meanwhile, there was a giant who, despite sitting quietly in place, drew more attention than anyone else due to his enormous size.

Once an apostle of the Evil God of Violence, but abandoned and now burning with vengeance.

Though fallen, he was still undeniably a divine species, perhaps the last of his kind—Philemon of the “Titan” race was silently handling equipment befitting his 14-meter frame.

And at the very back of all these forces…

There were beings whose presence overwhelmed everyone else present, radiating powerful and terrifying aura.

Lined up beside him were warriors in black and gold armor.

The Blood Guards—each one a mid-tier warrior.

These elite bodyguards, each one the finest of warriors, were, for some reason, vigilantly guarding in all directions without the slightest hint of showing off.

At their center stood a massive Red Dragon, also wearing black and gold armor, cutting an imposing figure.

Radiating the oppressive aura—fear—unique to dragons in all directions, this brave and majestic dragon harbored a subtle heat as it glared at enemies.

This being, best described as a living volcano, carried on its back someone tens of times more dangerous than itself.

This was the Lord-General leading these forces.

The chosen apostle of the God of Vengeance, the Avenging Lord, the Great General, and the God Slayer—Bjorn “The Chosen” Wolfson.

Majestically mounted on the Red Dragon, Bjorn lightly tapped the dragon with his foot as a signal.

The dragon fluttered its wings briefly before taking to the air, and as Bjorn blew a horn taken from his chest—

[BUUUUUUUUUU———!!!]

With a sound that echoed throughout the area,

the forces of vengeance heightened their tension.

Beyond the horizon…

The minions of the accursed pantheon, the forces of deception and lies, were approaching.