Ch.190Downfall (1)

Due to the collapse on the left flank, the war could no longer continue.

All of Istria’s notable commanders had been killed by the Archangel.

Only a few survivors managed to barely return to the main force.

“Thanks to Your Majesty’s valiant efforts, the Archangel couldn’t stay for long.”

“We were also able to withdraw the right wing forces intact. If those troops, who represent the future of the demon realm, had been swept away by the Archangel like the left flank, we would have faced a great calamity.”

The legion commanders were exchanging words of relief.

The Celestial War Commander’s fifty thousand troops retreated to the northwest as the demon legion withdrew. They too needed to regroup, having suffered heavy casualties among their elite forces, including the knights.

And so, a long standoff began once again.

“We won’t be able to reclaim that land, will we?”

“We’ve already gathered all available forces. We’re in tatters after one clash—continuing to the next battle? We might achieve victory through the strength of Durin and other warriors, but the legion would disintegrate. Even now, the royal guards who advanced to the front to deal with the damage on the left flank have suffered heavy losses.”

It was a battle that left only wounds.

The war that Caldragoth started to fulfill his final calling ultimately ended with merely repelling the angels.

In the process, Istria’s forces were completely depleted.

“Won’t the Red Horns now reveal their true colors?”

“Killahal and the Senate’s army didn’t participate in this war, claiming they needed to protect the castle from the hero.”

“If Your Majesty had achieved victory and reclaimed the northwest, their fate would have been sealed, but now the situation is reversed. They will surely use the same pretext as when the Primordial Bloodline was driven out, attempting to repeat history.”

Istria began with the Red Horns’ transgression.

To resolve this, the most powerful family at the time emerged as the new king, viewing the magic of dominion that could effectively control the legion as the qualification of a Demon King.

But while occupying the throne, they accomplished nothing.

They merely maintained the status quo.

Some remembered their duty and valiantly raised armies, but the results were always devastating.

Even Caldragoth, hailed as the greatest ruler in Istrian history and called the last beacon, met the same conclusion.

The demons of the Central Continent couldn’t help but waver.

“They will try to reclaim the throne by emphasizing the legitimacy of the Red Horns.”

“But there shouldn’t be any royal family members with pure blood left. They’ve spent long years as wanderers, not rulers.”

“That doesn’t matter. What’s important is the color of the horns. Killahal is certainly the type to do so.”

Not the glory of the Red Horns, but seizing the throne.

That’s the only thing the greedy Killahal desires.

He was a dormant dragon who had conserved his forces until now, keeping quiet with various excuses.

“Istria’s light is fading, and the legion needs to recover—heaven has given them an opportunity.”

“However, Istria still has Durin. Having served the Green Horns since the first Demon King of Istria, he might come to their rescue.”

“At the same time, he is also a Red Horn. The course of events is unpredictable.”

The two commanders couldn’t continue their conversation.

In the increasingly chaotic situation, they couldn’t think of anything more to add.

As soldiers who had dedicated themselves to military service and taken up the sword, they could only hope that things would turn out well.

That was the wish of warriors fulfilling their duty.

#

“Where is His Majesty?”

“He’s inside.”

Durin also sensed the unsettling atmosphere.

Although he had harbored a small hope, the war ultimately ended as expected.

He decided to be satisfied with having witnessed the united legion’s ability to withstand the Archangel.

The future was secured enough; now it was time to assess the current situation.

“How is his condition?”

“Having used his power after so long, his vitality has greatly diminished.”

The sorceress guarding the king’s tent delivered the grim news to Durin.

“How much time remains?”

“If he focuses solely on treatment and avoids state affairs, perhaps 10 years.”

“That’s not possible if he needs to consider succession.”

“In that case, about a year at most. Had he only provided magical support from the rear, it might have been different. But fighting at the frontlines has caused too much accumulated damage.”

The sorceress bowed her head, conveying her regret.

It was already beyond her control. Fate had playfully snatched away Caldragoth’s twilight years.

“I’ll meet with him and talk.”

Instead of answering, the sorceress straightened up. She carefully opened the tent door.

From inside came the heavy scent of death.

“…Is that you, Durin?”

A strained voice leaked out.

It belonged to Caldragoth, bedridden.

There was a soft rustling sound as he turned his head against the pillow.

“Come closer.”

The passionate figure from the early days of the war was gone.

Only an old man sensing his end remained. Though his reign as king hadn’t been long, numerous wars had consumed everything he had.

The form of burnt-out ashes.

That was the Caldragoth that Durin faced.

“I’m ashamed to face you. In the end, Istria has been defeated once again.”

The king closed his eyes. No emotion of sadness was visible.

“It was all as expected… but I still wanted to overcome it.”

Caldragoth was still clinging to his will.

“Though fate may have destined defeat, I didn’t want to accept it at face value. A king cannot lead his warriors by merely submitting.”

His voice gained strength.

It seemed like he was squeezing out his last reserves.

“Because of that choice, I end here.”

“Your Majesty, please don’t speak like that.”

“No. Those facing death don’t know when their flame will extinguish. At the same time, they can foresee which flame will burn brightest.”

Caldragoth reached out his hand.

He grasped Durin.

“Don’t try to stop the flow. Istria has not retained the power to be the ruler.”

“Your Majesty.”

“The era of the Red Horns will inevitably dawn. This is my choice, independent of fate.”

Durin couldn’t add anything more.

Silence enveloped the tent. The atmosphere made it impossible to speak.

“An unstoppable wave will soon engulf the demon realm. Killahal will raise an army to seize the throne, while Istria will retreat to the eastern lands, waiting for the day to return.”

The king had accepted everything.

That’s why he wasn’t sad.

“A warrior is needed to protect the demon realm in the meantime.”

Caldragoth revealed his regret.

The burden left by one who had challenged fate and failed. His voice trembled as he was about to pass it all on.

“You are the only one left. The warrior who will reclaim forgotten ancient rights.”

“Your Majesty.”

“I ask this of you.”

Caldragoth’s hand fell limply.

He had no strength left to continue the conversation. Only shallow breaths filled the tent.

“I shall take my leave.”

Durin quietly paid his respects. His retreating steps were extremely heavy.

Another duty placed on his shoulders added to the weight.

The burden of the one who must carry it grew more arduous by the day.

#

The news also reached the Demon King’s castle.

Various stories circulated around Azmosa, who kept her eyes closed.

“Killahal is gathering an army, Your Eminence.”

“He claims to be preparing a victory ceremony, but his intentions are already ominous.”

“Even the sorceresses are divided in their opinions… what should we do?”

The central authority was already split.

The shock brought by Caldragoth’s failed expedition had caused fractures.

Some argued for reinstating the Primordial Bloodline as king.

Others insisted on determining Caldragoth’s successor to maintain stability.

There were even voices calling for a completely new family to take power.

With such discord, the castle was shaken by chaos similar to the decline of the Red Horns.

“At times like these, the sorceresses must maintain the center.”

Azmosa firmly took control of the observatory.

She firmly established the attitude that those called the wisdom of the castle should not be swayed by the current.

“Just continue with the castle’s practical affairs, observe the night sky, and prepare for any possible celestial invasion. That’s what sorceresses are supposed to do.”

The sorceresses who had been raising their voices bowed their heads at her words.

They felt ashamed. Only then did the room quiet down. As a sense of stability returned, Azmosa’s expression softened.

“So don’t worry too much.”

“We apologize, Lady Azmosa.”

“We will now return to our posts.”

The commotion ended there.

The sorceresses left the observatory to attend to the castle’s affairs.

Azmosa was left alone in the dark space.

“……”

She turned to look at the sky.

Outside it was bright, but the observatory always maintained night.

She examined the stars densely embedded there.

“It’s precarious.”

Caldragoth’s star was losing its strength.

He didn’t even have the energy to express his final will. Azmosa could predict the future by observing the numerous stars.

In fact, that’s why she had hurriedly sent the sorceresses outside.

“The end of the dynasty… has finally come.”

A pessimistic outlook that no one should hear flowed from her lips.