Chapter 1078: Victory

After Aldric, Corvin, and Arkam died, the war continued to rage on. Valtanir’s forces fought bravely, refusing to give up until the very end.

Unfortunately, all their efforts were in vain. Under the command of Freya, Elina, and Evalyn, the imperial forces eventually defeated them.

Fifteen thousand enemy soldiers were killed, while the rest were captured.

They would be sent to the Imperial Palace to stand trial, where Seira would make the final decision regarding their fate.

"It’s finally over."

Elina let out a long sigh as she planted her sword in the ground and leaned against it, using it to support her weary body.

She lowered her head, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

She and the others had been fighting the Valtanir forces for over four hours. Even after their leaders were killed, the Valtanir soldiers had refused to surrender.

One had to admit, their fighting spirit was truly extraordinary.

"Good job, Elina."

Evalyn’s voice came from behind her.

Elina turned and saw Evalyn, who looked just as exhausted.

She smiled and straightened up.

"Good job to you too, Sister Evalyn. How many enemies did you take down?"

Evalyn chuckled softly.

"I lost count. One thing’s for sure, though—we took down a lot of them."

She glanced at her blood-stained hands. This was the first time she’d ever taken part in a large-scale battle like this. It was also the first time she’d killed so many people.

But she wasn’t suffering from PTSD or anything like that. The people she’d killed were her enemies, and that alone was more than enough for her to keep her sanity.

"By the way, when are we going back?" Evalyn asked.

Elina fell silent for a moment, surveying the chaotic scene around her before answering, "We’ll discuss it with Sister Freya."

Evalyn said nothing and simply nodded.

"I understand."

...

The Imperial Palace of Valtanir...

"Failed, you say?"

Dariel frowned.

"That’s right, Your Majesty. The rebellion in the southern region of the Great Velmora Empire has failed," the golden-robed man standing at the foot of the throne replied in a deep voice.

Dariel’s expression darkened. He clenched his fists as a wave of anger surged through him.

"How is that possible...!? Why would a plan that took years of painstaking effort to put together fail just like that!?" he growled.

Jason’s betrayal of the empire had been part of Dariel’s plans for a long time. He had spent ten years preparing for it.

It had taken that long because he needed to wait until Jason was at the lowest point in his life before sending a delegation to offer him a deal: they would bring his deceased fiancée back to life in exchange for his cooperation.

But who would have thought that a plan that had taken so many years to prepare would fail just like that?

"According to our spies, the Celestial Mage Velmora intervened and stopped the Celestial Mage we had planted as a spy within the empire."

"Defeated?" Dariel’s eyes widened. "How is that possible? Just how powerful is this Celestial Mage Velmora?"

The golden-robed man carefully explained the difference between their respective power levels.

After hearing the explanation, Dariel clicked his tongue in frustration.

"Our Celestial Mage spy was too weak! If I’d known, I would’ve sent two—no, three of our Celestial Mages!" he growled.

The golden-robed man could only bow his head, not daring to look at him.

Dariel took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

Massaging his temples, he asked, "What about Adalen? Has his identity as the mastermind been exposed?"

"For now, Prince Adalen is still safe under our watch. As for whether his identity has been exposed or not... honestly, I don’t know," the man replied nervously. "B-But don’t worry! Corvin, Arkam, and Jason Malvain shouldn’t have revealed that secret to the enemy! I can guarantee it."

That was a lie. He had no idea whether they had revealed the secret or not.

However, he had to lie for now to save himself. Otherwise, Dariel would become even angrier and might even sentence him to death.

Sure enough, just as he’d expected, Dariel’s expression gradually softened. He nodded, occasionally muttering, "Good job."

The man let out a sigh of relief and smiled to himself.

"All right, you may go," Dariel said, dismissing him.

The man felt as if he’d just been pulled out of a dark abyss. He suppressed his joy, stood up, and turned to leave.

Once the man was out of sight, Dariel clicked his tongue in frustration again.

"The pawns of the Great Velmora Empire have been eliminated. Arkam and the forty thousand Valtanir troops are gone as well. This is a massive loss!"

Ten thousand of those soldiers were priests, each of whom was extremely valuable.

Training even a single person required a great deal of resources, yet ten thousand of them had been killed or captured by Velmora’s forces.

One could only imagine how devastating this loss was for the Holy Empire of Valtanir.

"But it’s all right."

Dariel calmed himself by placing a hand on his chest.

"As long as Adalen is still alive, there’s still a chance to turn things around. Losing forty thousand, a hundred thousand, or even a million troops doesn’t matter. As long as the Great Velmora Empire falls, all these sacrifices will be worth it!"

He clenched his fists tightly, a terrifying, maniacal smile spreading across his handsome face.

...

"Ugh..."

Orlan felt a sharp pain in his head. He slowly opened his eyes and found himself staring at the ceiling of an unfamiliar room.

"Where am I?"

"You’re awake, Marquis Orlan! Thank goodness!"

A relieved voice came from beside him.

He slowly turned his head and saw a middle-aged man looking at him with a joyful expression.

"You..." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Mr. Fenric?"

Fenric nodded with a smile.

"Are you feeling all right?"

Orlan furrowed his brow.

"What happened to me?" he asked, clutching his forehead.

He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his head again.

Fenric quickly helped him sit up and propped him against the headboard.

"You lost consciousness after drinking tea laced with a sleeping potion."

Orlan was startled. Memories of his conversation with Jason immediately flashed through his mind, and he finally understood what had happened.

Frowning, he asked, "Is the sleeping potion dangerous?"

"No." Fenric shook his head. "It’s just a regular sleeping potion. The drowsiness should wear off within half an hour of waking up."

Orlan breathed a sigh of relief. If it had been poison, he would have needed to see a doctor as soon as possible. He didn’t want to die just yet.

"By the way, what about Count Fradel? Is he all right?"

He was referring to the fat Count who had accompanied him to meet Jason earlier.

"Count Fradel is fine. He should be awake by now. But Viscount Johan..."

Fenric’s voice trailed off, but Orlan understood what he meant. He let out a quiet sigh and waved his hand.

"Please prepare his body later. I’ll take him home to his family."

Fenric simply nodded.

"What about Duke Jason Malvain? Is he—"

Before Orlan could finish, Fenric cut him off.

"He ran away."