The War of Milis had already been raging for more than two years.
The world watched, in silence or with fervent expectations, the brutal clash between the Iron Legion, allied with all the tribes of the Great Forest, and the powerful armies of the Sacred Kingdom of Milis.
Although the Legion and its allies had never been defeated outright, the truth was that they were almost always at a disadvantage.
There were many reasons for this, but two stood out above all: Milis's numerical superiority and its impeccable organization.
Their armies were larger, better trained, and unified by a fervent fanaticism that made many soldiers willing to die without hesitation.
While the Legion gathered different races, clans, and cultures that did not always agree with one another, Milis marched as a single body, guided by the voices of its cardinals and generals.
But it was not just their numbers that made them dangerous. In terms of powerful commanders, Milis was superior as well.
The most feared name among them was Galgard Nash Venick. His presence on the battlefield completely altered the course of engagements.
Recently, he had begun to be called the Divine Warrior.
More than a year ago, Taes Dedoldia and Lerov Jinkan, together, were capable of holding him back without losing ground.
But that required both of their full concentration, and by focusing on a single enemy, the other fronts weakened, allowing Milis to advance elsewhere.
It was a large-scale chess game, where every move cost lives and territory.
However, in the past year, facing Galgard had become practically impossible.
After quelling most of its internal conflicts and uniting against the common enemy, Milis bestowed upon its general what they called 'Sacred Artifacts.'
In other words, extremely powerful and ancient magical items, relics that had been under Milis's control for centuries.
His new armor shone like polished silver with gold details that gleamed in the sunlight, and his sword was a broad blade, one hundred and seventy centimeters long, surrounded by a golden aura.
Since donning that armor, Galgard had never been wounded in combat. No attack could penetrate his defense.
No technique, not even Lerov's most refined or Taes's wild and unpredictable assaults, could break that unyielding brilliance.
His sword, on the other hand, shattered shields, broke weapons, and opened craters in the earth with a single strike. One swing was enough to reduce dozens of warriors to rubble.
And to make matters worse, Galgard was not alone.
Milis had other champions, other commanders who possessed their own magical items.
Even if they were nowhere near Galgard's power, they still posed a great threat to the Legion.
The Iron Legion was forced to split its forces, responding on multiple fronts at once, weakening its effectiveness.
Not even when the North Emperor, Ornthorn, arrived on the battlefield did the situation improve drastically.
Even Ornthorn, with all his power, could not be everywhere at once.
It was a war of attrition, and the Legion was holding on as best it could.
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POV: Rygar Adoldia
It had been a few weeks since I had finally arrived on the Milis continent.
Our 'landing' in Hobbit Territory had been... tumultuous, to say the least.
I mean, they were expecting my arrival, but apparently not so soon—and showing up carrying the carcass of a massive Kraken mounted on a Red Dragon definitely did not help with the element of surprise.
The reaction was a mixture of astonishment, reverence, and terror. It is not every day that a legendary sea creature is defeated and dragged across dry land.
But, setting the Kraken aside, fortunately for me, Taes Dedoldia, whom I had left in charge of the Legion when I departed, was there.
He looked quite different. His physique was more robust, his features more serious, his eyes colder. But personality-wise... he was the same.
What can be said is that he had matured considerably... and grown much stronger.
You could say that being placed in such an important command position matures you, whether you like it or not.
Besides, he was commanding armies in a war at only twenty years old.
From what he told me, they were having difficulty containing Milis's armies along the Blue Dragon Mountains.
In fact, throughout the entire extent of the Iron Legion's territory, the situation was similar—they were being pushed back, inch by inch.
Basically, this war was being lost gradually.
I convened a small war council with the commanders stationed in Hobbit Territory.
My former subordinates—many of whom had fought by my side five or six years ago—greeted me with joy, reverence, and relief.
But in the eyes of some new members, who had not been present back then, I could detect some discontent.
It seemed that not all of the Legion's new recruits were entirely satisfied with the idea of my resuming the leadership seat.
I could understand where they were coming from; after all, I had not been fighting alongside them in recent years.
They probably said nothing out of fear, given that I was now the Beast God. A title that served as unquestionable proof of my strength.
In any case, we quickly moved on to discussion.
We detailed the enemy troop advances, their most common strategies, the latest losses, and the expected movements for the coming months.
Eris and Ghislaine had little to do there—war tactics were not their strong suit—so they remained out of it, likely to train or occupy themselves with something more active.
Aisha, on the other hand, paid close attention. She sat by my side and listened without missing a single word.
I myself had never participated in a war on such a massive scale in either of my two lives.
I had led the Legion for a time, of course, but back then they were a much smaller force.
Now... they were almost an entire army unto themselves. This tested my knowledge in various ways.
Everything I knew about warfare in this world had been taught to me by my master, Verdia.
She gave me notions of tactics, logistics, hierarchy, and command.
But she obviously did not teach me deeply about large-scale strategy, siege formations, supply lines, or geopolitical maneuvers.
What saved me, in the end, was what I had learned in my previous world. I had studied practically every great war in Earth's history.
From World War II to older conflicts like Alexander's campaigns, the Crusades, and the Napoleonic Wars.
The principle was essentially the same—except, of course, for the presence of magic. Besides, I had read The Art of War by Sun Tzu and kept many of his teachings with me.
Thanks to that, I was able to question decisions with solid foundations, suggest alternative approaches, point out flaws, and highlight opportunities.
At first, some commanders were resistant—mainly the more veteran ones.
But over time, and especially after hearing my comments, which offered a completely different perspective on certain issues, I saw that some of the dissatisfied began to look at me with a certain respect.
Perhaps not all, but enough.
Still, war was a complex affair. The only point of victory in my heart was that individual strength still carried tremendous weight in this world.
Just think of all the great wars that have taken place here. In the First Human-Demon War, the Demon Empress was defeated mainly by Hero Ars and his group.
Even though they had an army supporting them, it was still primarily that small band that defeated all the Demon Kings of the era.
In the Second Human-Demon War, it was even more unbelievable. Humans were losing badly, on the verge of complete defeat.
But then the Golden Knight, Aldebaran, emerged and single-handedly defeated all the most powerful forces of the demon army.
They say he defeated an army of over ten thousand soldiers and their commanders alone.
That was the true representation of individual strength.
And in the Laplace War, it was similar to the first. The Seven Heroes, even supported by an army, were basically responsible for defeating all the main generals of the Demon God Laplace.
What can be said about this? The truth is that in this world, even though strategies and armies are an extremely important part, individual strength remains even more crucial.
With my arrival, bringing Ghislaine and Eris with me, the balance would shift drastically.
After just one day in Hobbit Territory, I wasted no time.
The Legion was in trouble across the territory, and Taes mentioned that Kilian had some kind of plan regarding the Nikolaus River, and that my master, Verdia, would be involved.
Anyway, broadly speaking, I already had a basic understanding of Milis's current situation. I would have to thank Ornthorn and the King of the Dragon King's Realm afterward. They had been of great help.
After concluding the council, I discovered that Eris had challenged nearly fifty warriors stationed there. All of them looked at her with astonishment and fear.
Ghislaine merely watched calmly, while a beastwoman approached her.
Apparently, she had known Ghislaine when she was a child. The warrior's reception was much warmer than she had expected.
Obviously, no one stationed there could defeat Eris in single combat. Perhaps Taes could... but that would be for another day.
From that point on, my counter-crusade began.
I mounted Ezkalor alone and set off for the heart of the war.
My first destination was the main battlefield of Hobbit Territory, in the Blue Dragon Mountain Range, where Milis's armies pressed day and night against the Iron Legion's troops.
When I arrived, I rained magic and energy blades down upon Milis's forces.
There was no mercy. Flame Explosions, Lightning Chains, Cutting Winds, and anyone who could escape the magic was slain by Tsukikage.
However, something bothered me: they were too well prepared.
Not as if they knew I was coming—that was unlikely—but there was clearly a withdrawal protocol for when an enemy far above the standard level appeared.
When I wiped out the third battalion with absurd ease, the rest began to retreat with strangely efficient organization.
This prevented me from exterminating all of them, as was my initial goal, but for now, it would suffice. The threat to Hobbit Territory had been neutralized.
I returned and immediately announced a grand War Council. I set the meeting for a month later, in the city of Tinaver.
I requested that all front commanders be present. The way they looked at me after the massacre...
It was reverence. It was fear. It was hope.
They had been fighting for months against the same armies that I dismantled in minutes. There was no discussion, nor resistance. All accepted the summons.
Then, I mounted Ezkalor again and began the bloody pilgrimage along the front line.
With Eris, Ghislaine, and Aisha accompanying me, but without a defined script, I crossed the skies, alert to the slightest sign of war: smoke on the horizon, the scent of blood, muffled screams, or suspicious movements.
Wherever I sensed combat, I dived in and massacred.
Sometimes it was a small detachment. Other times, entire fortifications. It did not matter. If they flew the Milis banner, they fell one by one.
After each victory, I left behind a clear order for the remaining Iron Legion members:
"One month. Tinaver. War Council."
I went through dozens of skirmishes, and each one made me more aware of the hole the Legion had fallen into.
I had been away for six years... and that weighed on my chest.
Even though I consciously knew that this journey was necessary and that I had reached my current strength because of it, logic was often overcome by emotion.
Perhaps, deep down, I was trying to make up for that absence—not with words, but with deeds.
Fortunately, in times of war, strength is more respected than any words. And now, I was the Beast God.
All commanders would hail me with unshakable loyalty as long as I could defeat the enemies.
The ones I needed to convince now were the masses.
And that was relatively simple: I just had to put on a show.
After all, a large part of my goal was to make Milis retreat temporarily. Spread terror.
Show that the balance had been violently upset and cause the maximum damage while that lasted.
So, I continued with that approach.
Leaving behind a trail of blood, destruction, and a clear warning that the war would take a new turn, I finally, after several days, landed on the outskirts of Tinaver.
The city awaited me.
But not even five minutes after arriving in Tinaver, I departed again.
Weys—the first Sword Saint to emerge in the Great Forest after me—was stationed there and gave me new news: Kilian, Pursena, my master Verdia, and a demon named Lerov had set out on a mission near the Nikolaus River.
As soon as he mentioned this, a bad feeling took hold of me. And well, a bad feeling from me almost always meant disaster.
After warning Eris, Ghislaine, and Aisha that I would return soon and bidding them farewell, I spoke to Weys.
I updated him on the Council that would be held in Tinaver in a few weeks and other matters.
I also told him that Eris and Ghislaine were my wives and that Aisha was my disciple, and that I wanted them treated with respect.
After making sure he had understood everything, I departed.
Without Ezkalor, I immediately launched myself toward the Nikolaus River. The unease grew with every step.
I used flight magic when the terrain allowed, but preferred to travel by land, propelled by the "Burst Step"—fast enough to leave even Ezkalor behind.
I moved well above the speed of sound, which made me put into perspective how long it would take to traverse this world from end to end.
The closer I got to the river, the more intense the sense that something was wrong became. Then, I finally felt it. A battle.
I leapt over the last mountain range, activating my Demon Eyes to the fullest.
Time around me slowed as every detail sharpened: Pursena and Kilian were fighting with serious injuries.
The demon—probably Lerov—was also wounded but holding on.
And then, I saw her.
Verdia. My master.
A blade was coming dangerously close to her neck. Even at my time-dilated perception, the sword moved slowly toward her.
By its speed, it was likely a Saint or King-level swordsman.
I had no time for analysis or planning. Only action.
I deactivated my Eyes and unleashed my full might, condensing as much power as possible into a single slash. The energy blade tore through the sky like thunder.
I heard the sound of the Barrier's shards violently cracking.
The mountain they were fighting on was cleaved in half. The earth trembled. And the assassin...was obliterated.
A deafening silence.
The battle ceased instantly.
Finally, my body landed gently beside my master.
The fury consuming me still burned in my chest—a lethal coldness threatening to take shape.
Verdia could have died. Kilian and Pursena too. If I hadn't arrived in time...
Everyone's eyes were wide. A primal fear spread.
But Verdia broke the hostile atmosphere with a gentle smile:
"It seems you're not so small anymore... Rygar."
An involuntary smile escaped my lips, breaking the terror.
"Master..." I murmured, relieved.
Wasting no time, I conjured dozens of earth spears. They sprouted from the ground where I stood, giant spikes emerging at speed.
The enemy commander—a tall man in bluish armor—finally reacted:
"R-rеtreat! Retreat now!"
But it was too late for most.
Controlling my magic with mastery, I avoided hitting Kilian, Pursena, and Lerov. The three, seeing the opportunity, immediately sprang to my side. Dirty, wounded, but alive.
"Leader! When did you return?!" exclaimed Kilian, eyes shining with emotion.
"Boss! What was that blade of light?!" asked Pursena, panting.
Both were already healing with Healing Magic without incantation as they spoke.
I observed the few remaining enemies with my Demon Eyes, then spoke, still with a smile on my face:
"Long time no see, folks... I think we'll have time to talk later, right?"
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