Regressor of the Fallen Family

“The enemy is retreating!”

“Root them out!”

It hadn’t been long since a smile crept onto the face of Roger Bifrost as he watched the battle outside the city walls with a furious expression.

Rumble!

With a thunderous noise that seemed to bring down heaven and earth, the entire wall of Tomodo Castle crumbled to the ground.

Roger Bifrost, a fifth-circle mage, immediately noticed the presence of a powerful force of mana underlying the scene.

Of course, by the time he realized it, it was already too late.

“What on earth is…?”

Roger Bifrost could do nothing but stare vacantly at the castle.

although a fall from less than 20 meters wouldn’t be a huge problem for knights,

it was a disaster for the foot soldiers who had climbed up or were in the process of climbing.

“These damned rats!”

They thought the rats whose teeth had been pulled now harbored deadly poison.

“I will personally join the fight and smash all those who remain!”

As Roger Bifrost’s complacency vanished, Bifrost’s strongest fighter swooped into the castle like the wind.

*Cough* “My lord, we succeed. Move quickly and silently! What were you even thinking!”

With Victor’s nape in his grip, Logan rushed toward the castle now visible before them.

Whether his final blow had been perfect or not, the enemy knights, covered in dust and with dismayed expressions, seemed unable to follow.

But Logan’s expression was sterner than theirs.

Using golem magic towers to collapse the walls was a last-ditch move akin to a mutual destruction.

A desperate gamble, assuming the worst-case scenario.

At best, a move that would fail to deal significant damage to the enemy’s knight forces.

To this end, the situation signified the end of the Maclaine family.

Years of effort since his return to the past, the future he had been painting had dissipated like bubbles.

Thus, Logan’s heart was overwhelmed with despair.

‘Should I have grown more steadily? Did I overreach?’

He knew all too well how foolish it was to regret a decision after agonizing over it.

But as a human who had deliberately sought this result, he couldn’t help feeling regret as his endeavor turned into such a dismal failure.

– Reorganize the ranks!

To those who survived, it didn’t matter.

For a while, the instinctive joy of those who managed to continue living filled Tomodo Castle.

Fortuitously, the thick anger in Roger Bifrost’s voice shook Logan from his self-reproach.

‘Let’s fight to the bitter end…’

If this was indeed the end, at least he’d inflict as much damage as possible on the enemy before him.

Logan’s mind, pushed to extremes, remembered the slogan of a resistance that had defied the empire for over 20 years with insufficient forces.

– I’ll give you my life, so at least give me your arm.

The venomous, rather mad slogan of the Grandian Liberation Front that terrified imperial forces.

A bitter jest uttered by souls full of venom in an overwhelming, hopeless situation.

And how that jest became an official slogan.

Logan Maclaine, an old mercenary turned freedom fighter, had been part of all that.

‘I never thought I’d come to ponder these thoughts again after returning to the past.’

Determined to struggle until the end, Logan reached the rendezvous.

But when he found his father and brother with haggard faces among his followers, his venom dissipated slightly.

“…I’m sorry, Father. I fear I’ve acted recklessly.”

Around them gathered the house’s forces, now reduced by almost half.

In front of the somber-faced vassals who had drawn their lines, Logan bowed his head.

“…You did all you could, didn’t you?”

“Yes. But now…”

“Then it’s done.”

“…Pardon?”

“If you’ve done your best, you don’t need to apologize. If not for you, we wouldn’t have come this far. Thanks to you, we managed to draw our swords towards the avengers of our ancestors; we won’t die in shame.”

An unexpected response to his braced self for reprimands choked him up.

“That’s right. It’s not your fault, Brother!”

“…Ronnie?”

“All we had to do was withstand, but we failed. We were weak! If we had just held on a few more days…”

His brother trembled, clutching a fist, overwhelmed with more than half a dozen cuts visible on his arms and legs.

That burning anger seemingly wasn’t directed at Logan made him feel unexpectedly flustered.

And then.

“Thanks to Lord, I’ve dreamed big. Better to meet my end on a battlefield than of old age in some provincial bed. I’ll fight to the end.”

Heinkel’s words were echoed by the nods from the knights beside him.

“Ah… I see…”

Confused and choked up, Logan slowly surveyed those around him.

The emotions gleaming in the eyes looking back at him pierced his heart painfully.

Particularly pale-faced Victor and visibly anxious Eileen.

All too talented to die in such a place, Logan felt his own excessive ambition had ruined them.

The will of his family like his father and Ronnie, words from a loyal commander like Heinkel, might not represent everyone’s hearts.

Amongst the many gazes cast his way, there would undoubtedly be resentful ones.

No, perhaps the resentful were in the majority.

But now was not the time to absorb all that resentment.

There was only one thing left to do.

‘To show everything I can to the very end. To do my ultimate best.’

Perhaps it was mad determination to drag everyone left into hell.

But Logan saw no other choice.

“…We’ll see it through to the end. No, we’ll show Bifrost a victory. Lend me your strength till the very end.”

“Yes!”

Logan’s eyes, alight with madness, passed the atmosphere onto the remaining Maclaine forces.

At that moment, as they were sure not to end in futility,

the advancing Bifrost forces appeared through the settled dust.

“Make way.”

Thud. Thud.

A force that still numbered in the thousands, even combined from both factions.

However, the steps of Roger Bifrost, who emerged through the divided Bifrost troops, resounded clearly in everyone’s ears.

The advancing Bifrost looked indifferent, or perhaps struggling to contain seething anger, as he slowly opened his mouth.

“It’s quite ridiculous. This…”

Roger Bifrost scanned his own army of roughly 200 knights and a “mere” 2,000 soldiers, grinding his teeth internally.

Even excluding the numb-faced Max Perretta’s troops watching his lead, Bifrost’s forces were still double that of Maclaine’s—yet, this was an unbelievable loss.

Recalling the continent’s military history wasn’t even necessary. By his judgment, if an army lost three-quarters of its troops despite significantly outnumbering the enemy, even if victorious, that commander would rightly be called an idiot.

By comparison, Roger Bifrost felt he had become the chief of idiots right now, and he struggled to vent the dizzying rage within him.

However, he feigned as much composure as possible as he continued.

“I still can’t guess why you would trigger such a thing. What’s the reason behind this absurd act? Wanting to die altogether in sheer madness?”

But the answer to Roger Bifrost’s question was far from what he expected.

“Prepare for battle, all troops!”

“Yes!”

Clank! Clank!

Ka-boom!

As Flantz and Patrick unleashed their force blades and clashed again, Logan started a grueling battle with the remaining enemy elite knights.

Despite Maclaine forces’ resolve to die fighting, the absolute disadvantage in numbers was something evil itself could not overcome.

Maclaine knights fell one by one as they desperately tried to cut down even one more enemy at the expense of their defense.

‘No!’

Logan mentally screamed as he saw a corner of the formation crumbling.

The partial collapse of the formation, barely held together with the scant forces at hand, would only accelerate their defeat.

And that would mark the end of Maclaine.

Just as Logan hardened his resolve for one last struggle…

Whiiiiiiiir!

From deep within the citadel, a bizarre noise echoed in all directions, and a streak of red light shot up from the highest tower.

Simultaneously, the expressions of a few people on the battlefield drastically changed.

“Kill them! Quickly! Aim for the Maclaine bastards first!”

Roger Bifrost, intending to watch the enemy’s end with a cold gaze, took out an artifact and began to summon mana.

Then,

“Just hold on a bit longer!”

Matched by a similar shout from the Bifrost camp in the distance.

Likewise, a red light column rose towards the Bifrost main castle.

Only then did those crazed on the battlefield, intent on each other’s lives, realize something was awry.

At that moment, Clayton rushed out from the citadel, holding a massive crystal ball larger than his own head.

“Lord Logan!!”

Clayton ran towards them with a face brimming with ecstasy.

Even though his mana was depleted from destroying the walls, Clayton’s strides seemed faster than anyone.

Behind the crystal ball, an elderly man with a white beard was shouting with a grave voice.

[I announce again, His Majesty, the King, has passed away. The nobility of the kingdom must prioritize attending His Majesty’s funeral over all matters!]

“Kill them! Strike down those red-haired wretches!”

Ignoring the elder’s voice, Roger Bifrost shouted.

His urgent cry was overpowered by a subsequent loud declaration.

“Minister of Defense Dylan, this is at Tomodo Castle. The opposing side is not ceasing the battle!”

Clayton’s crystal channeled his strained mana, relaying this side’s situation to the royal official, Defense Minister Dylan Luhart.

And it worked, as the royal manager, who should be multitasking with the communication, shifted his gaze to the battlefield visible through the crystal.

[That banner is… Bifrost?]

As his voice echoed, Roger Bifrost’s face twisted horribly.

[What’s going on here? Count Roger Bifrost?]

‘What unlucky strike is this?’

Roger Bifrost lamented internally.

The king passing away exactly now.

An emergency signal, only known by its description in his mind, detonated right here.

His head throbbed with complexity, almost bursting, but he couldn’t afford to delay.

[Count, what’s happening? Are you committing treason?]

With lips clenched tightly, Bifrost thought quickly.

But there was only one conclusion—he wasn’t foolish enough to cause trouble recklessly.

‘…the successor to the throne hasn’t been determined. I can’t give any excuse to the First Prince’s faction.’

The war was no longer a concern.

Roger Bifrost, his face distorted, screamed.

“Damn it all!!”

[Count! Now…]

“Bifrost troops, cease the attack! Bifrost will follow the royal will!”

He glared at the communicator as if he would devour it while shouting his order.

Despite the mismatch between his expression and words, Dylan Luhart nodded with a skewed smile.

[That’s right. It should be so.]

He seemed pleased by a high-ranking noble, vested with the power of a border count, bowing to a mere civilian official.

Regardless of the minister’s feelings,

“You… Maclaine rats. Don’t think this is the end. We’ll see about that.”

Roger Bifrost, his face contorted, turned away without waiting for a reply.

Amidst this bewildering and abrupt turn of events, both bewildered camps could only watch the communicator.

Bifrost troops, with bewildered faces, soon followed their lord.

And sometime later,

after Roger Bifrost and his army had vanished beyond the ruined walls,

those Maclaine soldiers, who had yet to relax, one by one slumped down as if their souls had left them.

“We survived!”

“We made it!”

“We’re alive!”

“Damn! I thought I was done for…”

“Aaaaaaah! I’m alive! We lived!”

Some cheered in joy.

Others sobbed in relief and joy at surviving.

Still others embraced each other, jumping up and down.

Every manner of human emotion was on full display, their hearts laid bare with cries of elation.

And from the very end,

“Uwahahahahaha!”

Logan, almost in a laughing fit, yelled as though crying.

“We’re victorious!!”

“Waaaaah!!”

It was unclear whether this was indeed a victory or an averted defeat.

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