Chapter 253

The crimson gem adorning the top of the Bone Staff glowed ominously, emanating a faint, sinister light.

That light cascaded downward, settling delicately over the undead horde below.

‘So that’s it.’

The Black Dragon narrowed his eyes.

It was clear now—this artifact was what empowered and controlled the undead.

It explained why these mindless creatures, driven only by their instincts for slaughter, were now employing complex strategies.

“All Ragnar forces, battle positions. Maintain vigilance on the flanks and rear!”

The Black Dragon’s calm yet firm order echoed through the troops.

This wasn’t just about the undead.

The more pressing concern was how the other factions might interpret the situation.

The Black Snow agents, although few in number, wore the same insignia as Ragnar’s forces, making it easy for misunderstandings to arise.

If suspicions weren’t managed properly, this could spiral into an all-out war with the allied factions.

‘For an undead, Bluebeard is disturbingly cunning.’

The Black Dragon allowed himself a bitter smile.

The undead had refrained from launching an all-out assault specifically to sow discord and confusion among the living factions.

Taking a deep breath, he refocused.

“Form ranks and hold steady! Ragnar will take the vanguard!”

He raised the flag high, signaling his intention to take the lead.

The Black Dragon recalled Theo’s strategic insights during the earlier war council.

“The divisions attached to Winterer and the northeastern forces have different levels of cohesion. It would be best to keep them separate,” Theo had advised.

It was sound reasoning.

Though Theo had ruled the northeastern territories well, disparities in command and coordination between regions were inevitable.

“We should structure our formation in two layers, with a reserve force stationed deep in the rear. They can act as reinforcements or an attacking wedge when the need arises.”

Seeing the strength of the northeastern forces, it was clear they could be called an elite army without exaggeration.

At the time, the Black Dragon had suspected Theo was simply safeguarding his troops by assigning them to the rear.

But now, in the thick of the battle, the wisdom of that formation felt almost prophetic.

‘He couldn’t have foreseen this, could he? Haha.’

Theo’s proposed deployment wasn’t just ideal for combating the undead; it was robust enough to contend with all four allied factions if necessary.

Rumble! Rumble!

From the rear, clouds of dust rose like a sandstorm.

“Kieeeeeek!”

And then, the banners of Ragnar appeared, along with the thunderous roar of troops arriving on the battlefield.

The northeastern army had arrived, led by its drakes and fairy dragons, their massive presence impossible to ignore.

“W-what is that...?”

“Ragnar has raised yet another monstrous force…!”

“They’re using drakes and fairy dragons as cavalry? How is that even possible?”

“There were reports, but to see it in action—it’s unbelievable they’ve managed such a feat.”

The appearance of this new aerial force, with its overwhelming presence and size, sent shockwaves through the allied factions.

“Ragnar! Ragnar!”

The arrival of the elite northeastern army reinvigorated the morale of Ragnar’s forces.

Their battle cry reverberated across the battlefield, growing louder and more unified.

The Black Dragon felt a surge of pride.

This was the new generation of Ragnar’s army, making its grand debut on the battlefield.

And he, the Black Dragon, had the honor of commanding it.

“Hahaha! This is exhilarating! To think my heart still beats this fiercely!”

Laughing heartily, the Black Dragon turned his thoughts to Theo, who remained within the forest, orchestrating the larger strategy.

As the pieces fell into place, the battle was entering its most critical phase.

***

Clang! Clang!

The sharp clash of swords echoed throughout the battlefield.

Every strike from Wellington, burning with the fire of his life force, occasionally sent Dongryong’s body flying back.

“Are you so eager to die, Wel?”

Dongryong's voice was laden with complex emotions.

Despite their blades being crossed now, the two shared a relationship of master and apprentice.

Dongryong had personally taken Wellington under his wing, and the young man had grown to be more than a disciple—he was like a son to him.

There had been countless times when Dongryong felt paternal pride toward Wellington.

And now, that very disciple was standing before him, burning his own life away to block his path.

How could Dongryong not feel conflicted?

“...If you stop now, you can still live. I will help you. Even if it means you may never wield a sword again, at least you will have your life. So, please, stop this, Wel.”

Dongryong lowered his blade, extending his hand toward Wellington.

While he had accepted his own fate on this battlefield, he had no intention of allowing Wellington to share it.

If he could, he wanted to save him. He prayed Wellington would take his hand.

“A swordsman... abandon his blade? Cough! How can you tell me to preserve my life... when I cannot wield a sword? If I must live on without it, I would rather die here as your disciple!”

Wellington's eyes gleamed with determination.

Though his grip on his sword seemed on the verge of faltering, he clenched it tightly once again.

That sight was so pitiful that Dongryong furrowed his brow in anguish.

‘It's been so long... since I've fought someone I truly didn't want to fight.’

With a heavy heart, Dongryong withdrew his hand.

His gaze drifted to the siblings, Rey and Erica, who lay unconscious nearby, defeated by his own hand.

“If you do not back down now, I will take their lives. However, if you vow to live, I promise to spare them.”

Wellington’s eyes shifted toward his companions.

These were the friends who had taken up arms against Dongryong, risking their lives to protect him.

They had held back the rampaging monsters and focused entirely on Dongryong to give Wellington a fighting chance.

And even Dongryong himself now begged for Wellington to choose life.

Tears welled up in Wellington’s eyes.

In truth, he wanted to live.

He wanted to accept Dongryong’s offer and survive to see a future with his companions.

But accepting that offer was impossible.

The future Wellington dreamed of was one where he stood at Theo’s side, his sword striking down enemies with valor.

And so, his grip on his sword tightened further.

“If I let Master join Lady Hilda, I will never be able to face Theo again.”

With a sorrowful smile, Wellington raised his blade, pointing it at Dongryong.

Even if sparing his companions was the logical choice, they would undoubtedly scold him for it.

No, Wellington knew his friends—they would rather die than burden Theo.

‘Curse me for this choice. I will bear it all.’

If that was the case, then he had to act.

Even if he couldn’t bring Dongryong down with him, he had to extract a price—at least an arm—as payment for his life.

With a burst of light, Wellington’s body surged toward Dongryong.

To Dongryong’s eyes, the sight resembled a moth flying into the flames.

‘If I must die here by Wel’s hand...’

For a brief moment, Dongryong considered letting Wellington end him.

But he quickly shook the thought away.

This forest might be the place where Dongryong was meant to fall.

But not beside Wellington—not when there was still work to be done.

“I have always been sorry, Wel.”

Dongryong gazed at his disciple with profound sadness, gripping his sword tightly.

“Please... forgive me.”

Thud.

The piercing sound of a blade driving into flesh echoed mournfully.

Ssshhh...

And then, the rain began to pour.

***

Theo suddenly glanced back as he sprinted toward the Ascension Gate.

“What is it? Are we being ambushed?”

Julius asked, puzzled, as he extended his senses to detect any threat. Yet, there was no sign of enemies.

Even Theo himself wasn’t entirely sure why he had looked back.

“It’s nothing. Let’s keep moving.”

It wasn’t concern for Kyle that caused him to pause.

He believed there must be some reason behind his momentary hesitation, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

Destroying the Ascension Gate.

That was the mission Kyle had entrusted to him, the highest priority at this moment. Theo quickened his pace.

‘The number of monsters has significantly decreased. Are they heading outside?’

Though they had faced numerous undead attacks along the way, the frequency of these encounters had noticeably diminished as they progressed.

The thought lingered in his mind.

“It’s because they’re attempting to leave. This area has already been ‘corrupted.’”

Julius explained. The undead were now turning their attention outward, seeking to expand the Corrupted Zone.

“The Black Dragon will handle it well enough.”

Julius spoke with calm confidence, slashing through an undead that lunged at them as they pressed forward.

The trust in the Black Dragon’s ability wasn’t limited to Julius alone—Mehwa Palace Lord and Theo shared the same conviction.

And so, Theo pushed aside any lingering concerns, focusing entirely on the task ahead:

The Ascension Gate, now visible in the distance.

***

The emergence of a new elite force brought a fresh gust of energy to the battlefield.

Among them, the devastating power of the Drake Division was beyond imagination.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“...”

“That... That’s practically a tactical weapon.”

“Ragnar has done it again.”

Their relentless, terrain-defying charges demolished the undead barricades with ease. Each rampage sent dozens of undead soaring into the air.

Meanwhile, the fairy dragons lit up the skies with their dazzling bombing runs, carving through the enemy ranks.

“Crush the undead! Show them the overwhelming might of Ragnar!”

The riders of the fairy dragons and drakes shouted fiercely, rousing the troops’ spirits.

For the northeastern army, this battle held profound significance.

It was their glorious debut after grueling preparations, earned through blood and sweat.

Though they had initially grumbled about being placed in the reserve forces, arriving on the battlefield and realizing their pivotal role quickly silenced any dissatisfaction. Now, their collective spirit soared.

“For Lord Theo’s victory!”

The soldiers roared with fervor, their morale sky-high, driven by the singular goal of delivering triumph to their lord, Theo.

‘This must be a shock for the other military units.’

The Black Dragon surveyed the scene with a grim expression.

The White Scale Cavalry, the Crimson Blade Knights, the Azure Guard—all iconic military divisions of Ragnar—stood in stunned silence, unable to hide their disbelief.

From this moment on, the once-proud elite divisions of Ragnar were relics of the past.

The Drake Division, forged to replace the Black Iron Brigade that had perished alongside Torkel, now claimed the title of the strongest ground force.

The Black Dragon’s eyes gleamed sharply.

“...Could this have been his plan all along?”

He had initially believed Theo’s placement of the army reserves in the rear to be a demonstration of his keen strategic insight.

But now, in the heat of the battle, the true meaning behind Theo’s actions became clear.

It wasn’t until Kyle had appeared on the battlefield, with his impending retirement in mind, that the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together in the Black Dragon’s mind.

“A generational shift.”

This battle was a stage for the future leaders of Ragnar and the world to make their mark.

It was Theo’s declaration to the gathered factions—a message of the new era he sought to forge.

‘No wonder he wasn’t subtle about this, even in front of the Imperial Court.’

The Black Dragon laughed heartily, his gaze locking onto three undead figures that stood out amid the chaos.

Tarn Mulligan, the Bone Dragon, and Bluebeard.

“What a remarkable nephew. Giving me such amusement in my twilight years.”

With a chuckle, the Black Dragon stepped into the battlefield.

His first target was the most dangerous of the trio—Bluebeard.

Blending into the shadows of the war-torn field, he disappeared, moving swiftly toward his prey.