episode_0050

50. The World Begins to Tremble

Balthazar Blackthorn.

Currently, he was waiting alongside his generals, following Gabriel’s advice.

And what’s more—[♡Welcome to the Peerless Under Heaven♡]—while holding up a banner with those words.

One of the men holding up a corner of the banner grumbled.

“Hng… Ryke’s arms hurt~.”

A man with lean muscles, dressed in wolf-pelt clothing like a Nordic warrior.

With sharp, pointed teeth and a fierce-looking face, but sticking out his tongue to one side like a drug addict… you could say?

Despite his dangerous and unrefined appearance, he wielded a massive greatsword and was hailed as a formidable warrior—Ryke.

At the sound of his whiny voice, the man holding the opposite side of the banner snapped impatiently.

“Pull your tongue back before I cut it off.”

“Waaaaah! Ryke’s scaaared!”

“Should I just kill you for real?”

A man who seemed to be Ryke’s polar opposite.

A bulky, honest-faced general with rugged features.

He was another exceptional warrior named Targon, who wielded a greatsword like Ryke.

Two men who looked as sloppy as Pat and Mat.

Despite appearances, they possessed strength comparable to early S-rank adventurers.

But for all their power, they were absurdly lighthearted—or rather, brimming with eccentric personalities.

“My lord, will the Peerless Under Heaven truly come?”

“I assure you, they will. Trust me on this.”

“…I trust you only because my lord does, so don’t act familiar.”

Gabriel answered instead, and the man frowned.

A man who was gentle toward his lord but erected an impenetrable wall against those he distrusted.

He was a warrior named Gron, considered on par with Ryke and Targon.

His physique looked like a perfect blend between the two—well-proportioned.

But Gron’s handsome face was tragically marred by scars covering his body and face, leaving him with a gruesome appearance.

Though he took pride in them, calling them proof of his survival through hardship…

“Well, with a title like *Peerless Under Heaven*… If they fail to kill someone like Goldhelm and just drop dead, that’s that.”

“Waaah! Then can we take the banner down since Ryke’s arms hurt~?”

“You little brat, today’s the day I cut out that flapping tongue of yours.”

“Kyyaaah!”

Ryke and Targon snarled at each other as if ready to devour one another on the spot.

Yet on the battlefield, they fought side by side like brothers, never tasting defeat—a formidable duo.

Their nickname? “Fork and Knife.” Enough said…

Gabriel watched them with an easygoing laugh.

She then turned her gaze to the woman she held in highest regard among Blackthorn’s generals.

A silent woman with striking black-and-red hair and an exquisite figure.

The undefeated commander who crushed enemy fortifications—Karta.

As if seeking her opinion, Gabriel smirked and spoke up.

“Lady Karta, what are your thoughts?”

“A soldier merely follows their lord’s commands. My opinion is irrelevant.”

An unyielding woman.

Gabriel chuckled lightly and observed Blackthorn’s generals.

Just then—

—two women riding toward them on crimson horses entered her line of sight.

The Peerless Under Heaven, Reina, and the One Who Sweeps a Thousand, Athena.

Seeing Blackthorn’s welcoming army, Reina scoffed with disdain before responding.

“What’s this, some cute little welcome party?”

Was it arrogance to think she could take on all four of them alone?

As if reacting, Ryke stuck out his tongue again and grinned unsettlingly.

“Kiki, the welcoming hasn’t even started yet~!”

“Oh ho… That’s something to look forward to?”

“Commander, please calm down…”

And so, the merciless welcome began.

Blackthorn’s generals forcibly dragged Reina and Athena into the tent.

And inside…

[♡We Sincerely Welcome the Peerless Under Heaven—From Ryke♡]

…an absurd banner and an expensive cake awaited them.

Ryke then pulled out his shriveled leather wallet—no, a cute frog-shaped pouch—and flipped it inside out.

“Sniff… Ryke’s wallet shrunk because he wanted to celebrate Reina~.”

“Since it’s your first day, eat and drink to your heart’s content.”

“Hmph. It’s a bit much for newcomers to immediately take general positions… but welcome.”

“……”

The generals grandly welcomed Reina and Athena.

While Athena looked bewildered, Reina happily dug into the cake.

Then Ryke raised a bottle of wine toward them.

“First day, so drink and die—”

“Enough!”

Blackthorn raised his hand, stopping the drinking.

Then, looking at Reina, he asked:

“Seeing you drenched in blood, you’ve been on a rampage?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Reina shrugged as if it were nothing.

Observing her, Blackthorn smirked and pressed further.

“Then would an immediate assault on the Imperial Palace be too much? Ah, even for the Peerless Under Heaven, twice in one day might be pushing it—”

“Hah? Stop yapping and let’s just go!”

Perhaps due to his experience handling Ryke and Targon’s antics—

Within moments, Blackthorn skillfully soothed Reina like a child and led her to the battlefield.

And so, Blackthorn’s army was complete.

At the frontlines, the Peerless Under Heaven, Reina—an overwhelming force who crushed enemies in her wake.

Behind her, the One Who Sweeps a Thousand, Athena—a warrior unmatched by any, assisting with peerless skill.

Ryke and Targon, living up to their “Fork and Knife” nickname, led an undefeated cavalry detachment to slaughter foes.

Gron, the General Killer—who beheaded enemy commanders on sight, boosting morale.

And when tactics failed, Karta—the undefeated commander who obliterated enemy formations with her troops.

Gabriel, maneuvering from the rear—turning the tide with her brilliant strategy.

“I’ll show you the power of the Peerless Under Heaven!!”

“Commander, this time we’re facing regular troops, so maybe tone it down a bit…”

“Waaaah… Ryke’s scared of the soldiers~…”

“Keep that up in battle, and I’ll add another scar myself.”

“They say the Knight Captain is strong. I’ll take his head.”

“Form up, soldiers.”

“This war seems like an easy victory.”

Behind them marched 15,000 seasoned veterans—the combined armies of Samaria and Zheitan from the northwestern lands.

The golden age—the peak of Balthazar Blackthorn’s army.

The beginning of what history would chronicle as *Blackthorn’s Rebellion*.

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Three weeks later, Erica’s office.

Seated across from each other on sofas were Cecil and Erica.

Erica, as if furious, folded her arms and clenched her coat sleeve.

“Nothing to say, Cecil?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“What do I *want* you to say?”

Erica tossed a parchment containing the Emperor’s secret letter at Cecil’s smug face.

Having received the same letter, Cecil barely reacted.

Erica gritted her teeth and glared.

“What was our original plan? While that bitch Oh Yeong-je delays them, we’d prepare and fully restore the Imperial Family!

Then what the hell is this?!

I wanted to withdraw Goldhelm’s forces early, but *you* reassured me it’d be fine!

You said there’d be no problems, and now look! The Peerless Under Heaven and Blackthorn have taken the Imperial Palace!”

Before leaving the palace, when Cain was conversing with his allies—

Erica and Cecil had stepped aside for a private discussion.

Back then, they debated how to handle Goldhelm’s forces stationed outside the walls.

Erica insisted on disbanding them, but Cecil dismissed her concerns.

And the result?

Fending off wolves only to let a tiger into their home.

Yet Cecil sipped her tea with a faint smile.

“I see. Quite the formidable army has formed.”

“You’re *smiling*?”

“Reina, the Vanguard Commander—her title, Peerless Under Heaven, is terrifying enough to make knees tremble.

Overshadowed by her but still showcasing unmatched skill—Athena, the One Who Sweeps a Thousand.

Ryke and Targon, the Fork and Knife duo.

Gron, the General Killer.

Karta—low-profile yet undefeated in battle.

And completing this all-star lineup—an unnamed strategist…

Individually, none are pushovers.”

“You think this is funny?”

Finally snapping, Erica grabbed Cecil by the collar.

Her short stature made it look like Cecil was humoring her, but Erica’s anger was genuine.

Yet Cecil effortlessly peeled Erica’s hand off with sheer strength.

Erica’s trembling fingers resisted, but Cecil remained unfazed.

Coolly, she stared down at Erica.

“My friend, familiarity does not permit such behavior.”

“…Cut the crap.”

Erica relented, seething as she shook out the wrinkles in her crumpled shirt.

Cecil brushed off her own disheveled collar before grinning slyly.

“Erica Grace. Does the title ‘Monarch of Redmain’ suit your current state?”

Erica glared, half-expecting another trick.

But knowing Cecil never acted without purpose, she answered plainly.

“The fox’s inventions are drawing people and wealth to Freesia.

Some regional nobles resist, but most kneel and swear fealty.”

“And?”

Erica sighed deeply.

“Absolutely not. This godforsaken land is too vast—how many villages and cities are there…?!”

Truthfully, Redmain’s territory was roughly 18 times the size of the Korean Peninsula.

Even South Korea alone—half the peninsula—divides into nine provinces and 17 administrative districts.

By simple calculation, Redmain would have 612 districts and 324 regions.

That alone illustrates its sheer scale.

Factor in villages equivalent to towns, townships, and neighborhoods, and it’s a logistical nightmare…

Thankfully, noble infighting and territorial wars kept fragmentation from reaching that extent.

Still, even nine regions were expansive and complex individually.

And Cecil’s Arcadia?

1.3 times *larger* than Redmain.

Currently, she was managing a halved Arcadia amid a succession war with Cedric Luxuria.

Persuading and conquering each faction took an eternity.

Realizing Cecil’s intent, Erica narrowed her eyes.

Satisfied, Cecil smirked.

Then, taking Erica’s hand gently—unlike before—she softly spoke.

“Listen well, my friend. This is an opportunity.”

“……”

“A chance to crush an all-star warlord, weaken rival factions, and showcase our strength.”

Cecil’s plan was simple.

Blackthorn’s army was formidable enough to silence crying children.

If their alliance defeated them, lesser factions would submit without further conflict.

Cecil herself stood to gain recognition as Arcadia’s successor.

But one problem remained.

“You’re insane… What if *we* lose?”

“That won’t happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Loss meant ruin.

Yet Cecil’s response was jaw-dropping.

“Summon all regional warlords to crush Blackthorn.”

“Ha, you crazy bitch…”

Erica understood.

With the Imperial Palace captured, they had justification.

Other warlords would scramble for scraps—or refuse and be branded traitors.

Like it or not, they’d have to mobilize.

“The Balthazar Subjugation Alliance.”

“An empire-wide coalition…”

The Empire vs. Blackthorn—total war.

Tempted by the serpent’s whisper, Erica gave in one last time.

And so, summons spread throughout the empire—rallying every regional noble.

The Undefeated Commander Who Crushes Formations—Karta (26)