Rumble!
Jupiter was a fortress city and military stronghold that boasted the most formidable defenses among all the cities of the Empire.
This was because it fronted triple-layered, towering stone walls and backed onto a natural cliff too steep to scale.
Given Jupiter's geographical advantages, which made it difficult to approach from either the front or the rear, the Continental Allied Forces had no choice but to establish their camp at a distance from the castle.
Helen Draker, who had been appointed as the supreme commander of the allied forces, was an experienced and powerful knight.
The problem was that the Continental Allied Forces were a patchwork of knights from various nations and families, entangled in all sorts of conflicting interests.
Though they had dispatched their cohorts to the front of Jupiter out of obligation to the treaty, they showed little willingness to follow the orders of their supreme commander, Helen.
Instead, they had set up their own camps in separate sectors, constantly watching each other and showing no intention of taking aggressive action.
Helen, as supreme commander, was well aware of this situation and thus refrained from making any rash moves.
One wrong move could spell disaster.
In her command tent, Helen pored over a map depicting the terrain around Jupiter and let out a deep sigh.
'The longer this drags on, the worse it gets for us.'
The Continental Allied Forces were a motley assembly of knights from diverse affiliations.
The more time passed, the more their justification would fade, and the knights and soldiers would inevitably grow weary.
If Castro Pollock's Jupiter forces chose to hunker down behind their walls for a siege, the allied forces—already strained just by maintaining their position—would gradually disintegrate.
Moreover, the Thermo Fortress, the final gateway to Rom, was under relentless assault from monsters.
If the allied forces remained pinned here while Thermo fell, the still-rebuilding Rom would suffer a devastating blow.
'We can't afford to just hold out like this. We need to find an opening to assault Jupiter.'
As Helen wrestled with her concerns, Duke—the captain of the Black Sword Knight Order —entered the tent.
"Sir Duke."
Though his arrival was somewhat abrupt, Helen greeted the family elder and black knight with due respect.
Once he had taken a seat, Duke looked at her and said,
"It must be a heavy burden, shouldering such a critical duty." "No, it's fine."
She denied it, but Helen's face had grown noticeably more haggard than before.
Duke regarded her and continued,
"The biggest concern is undoubtedly the Empire's Red King." At his words, Helen unconsciously bit her lip.
Originally, the forces occupying Jupiter consisted of Castro Pollock and his legion, along with the advancing Breaker Mercenary Company.
But en route to Jupiter, word had arrived of a new development.
One of the Empire's black knights, the Red King, had joined them.
While Duke Crevan de Panion was the most renowned black knight in the Rom Empire, Count Vlad—the man known as the Red King—was undoubtedly a formidable figure whispered about far and wide.
Moreover, he had a particular notoriety beyond his martial prowess: his cruelty.
Though his infamy had somewhat faded under the shadows of Emperor Nero's madness and Abel Draker's brutal massacres, Count Vlad's savagery had been laid bare during the Eastern Continent Invasion War twenty-five years prior.
The warriors of the Murk Empire, invading the Central Continent, had feared no one more than Overlord Arthur Draker and Red King Count Vlad.
In particular, the epithet the Eastern Continent had bestowed upon Count Vlad revealed the depth of that terror.
"Field of Spikes..."
As Helen murmured his moniker, Duke's expression darkened as well.
"It's true that morale across the allied forces plummeted the moment word spread of the
Red King's arrival. Not only is Count Vlad himself a monster, but his family's Dracul Knight
Order is infamous for its ruthlessness and strength."
It was said that even the Mad Emperor had avoided provoking Wallachia, home to the Red King.
For the allied forces, the Red King's reinforcement of Jupiter was nothing short of disastrous news.
Helen nodded gravely, her face shadowed.
"You're right, Sir Duke. Jupiter was already a tough nut to crack, but with Count Vlad joining them, this battle has become even more daunting."
Helen had made every effort to assess the Red King objectively.
She was familiar with his reputation for cruelty, but his actual achievements were overshadowed by the rumors and not widely known.
To that end, she had delved into the surviving records of the Eastern Continent War to investigate him.
Her conclusion: He was an expert in siege defense.
Twenty-five years ago, the Murk Empire's forces, led by "Duke of Butchery" Saladin, had surged into the Central Continent with terrifying momentum.
Saladin had aimed to strike at the heart of the continent, Midland, first, but the nobles preferred to invade the Rom Empire—boasting the largest territory—to rack up merits.
Defying their supreme commander's wishes, the nobles had led their armies against Rom on their own, only to be halted by none other than Red King Count Vlad.
Wallachia Castle, ruled by his Basarab family, was not particularly large for a count's domain.
The Murk forces had intended to overrun it in one go and press on to Rom.
Yet an army exceeding 100,000 strong had failed to breach Wallachia and suffered a crushing defeat there.
At the center of it all were Red King Count Vlad and the Dracul Knight Order.
The approaches to Wallachia Castle were filled with the corpses of Murk warriors impaled on spikes, rivers of blood flowing in their wake.
In the end, the Murk nobles, terrified by Count Vlad's feats and ferocity, had no choice but to retreat.
While public opinion focused solely on his heartless brutality, Helen had analyzed the battle coolly.
'To defend Wallachia—a disadvantageous position for a siege—against an army of over 100,000, he used visually shocking methods to instill terror.' Fear made men hesitate.
Count Vlad had known that the invading force was led by young Eastern nobles with little battle experience and employed the most effective counter: psychological warfare.
Helen had concluded that, contrary to his reputation, the Red King was closer to a strategic genius.
'Castro Pollock is a racial supremacist, but I've heard he's well-regarded by those he favors. With a tactician like that at his side, this fight will be exceedingly difficult...' At that moment, Felix burst into the tent.
"Supreme Commander!"
His voice urgent, Felix called out to Helen.
"The gates of Jupiter Castle have opened!"
*
Helen and the members of the Black Sword Knight Order mounted their horses to confirm the opened gates of Jupiter.
Though the castle was at a considerable distance, all present were knights of blue rank or higher, so they could observe the situation clearly by enhancing their vision.
Knights emerged boldly from the front of Jupiter Castle, their banner emblazoned with a dragon fluttering in the wind.
Helen bit her lip at the sight.
'Dracul Knight Order.'
If the Draker family was renowned as dragon slayers, the Basarab family bore the legend of inheriting dragon blood from ancient times.
In the era of the Seven Kingdoms, many families had incorporated dragons into their crests, but after the War of Liberation, they had all vanished.
The sole exception that persisted was the Basarab family's Dracul Knight Order.
And they had earned fame across the Central Continent for their pivotal role in repelling the Murk Empire's invasion.
Behind the Dracul knights bearing the dragon emblem, soldiers emerged and began erecting something in front of the castle.
It was sharp iron stakes shaped like massive spikes.
The spikes of the Field of Spikes—the weapon that had terrorized the Murk Empire twenty-five years ago—had reappeared before Jupiter Castle.
Duke, standing beside Helen, clicked his tongue at the sight.
"They're openly trying to intimidate us. I've never seen the defenders provoke like this first."
Unlike Duke's dismissive tone, Helen's expression was deeply shadowed.
'The other allied camps will be seeing this too.'
As she anticipated, the other allied positions had a clear view of the massive iron spikes being driven into the ground before Jupiter.
Though largely forgotten now, Count Vlad's infamy had instilled great fear not only in the Murk Empire but among the Central Continent's people as well.
That fear also bred a certain mystique around the Red King.
Witnessing the erection of those massive spikes firsthand only amplified that terror.
As the soldiers hammered in dozens of iron spikes, someone on horseback emerged from the castle gates.
Neigh!
Atop a horse twice the size of an ordinary warhorse sat a knight clad head to toe in red Hercion armor.
Even from afar, an ominous aura emanated from him.
'The Red King.'
Helen realized it was the infamous Red King, Count Vlad.
His face was concealed by a helmet, so she couldn't see his features, but no one could deny that it was him.
For one of their key commanders to expose himself in such an open space was a bold display of confidence.
Knowing this, Helen could only bite her lip.
Count Vlad, seated on his mount, surveyed the embedded spikes before turning his gaze toward Helen's position.
Despite the great distance between them, he locked eyes with her precisely.
Then, in that instant, Count Vlad spurred his horse's flank and charged forward.
He seized one of the massive iron spikes embedded in the ground with his hand.
It was a heavy iron spike that would require several grown men to lift and move.
Yet he hefted it effortlessly and hurled it into the air.
Whoosh!
With a sound slicing through the atmosphere, the spike soared skyward.
Whoooosh!
It hurtled toward Helen and the Black Sword Knight Order with tremendous force.
The Black Sword knights, caught off guard by the throw from such a range, drew their swords in alarm.
But Helen, who had been on alert since Count Vlad's appearance, had already drawn her Dragon Buster, her eyes calm and focused.
As she unleashed her power, the components attached to the Dragon Buster shifted.
Clang!
The fragments enveloping the greatsword Dragon Buster spread out to form a sturdy shield.
The shield, bound tightly by Helen's bloodline ability of magnetism, collided with the iron spike thrown by Count Vlad.
Boom!
An explosion-like roar echoed as the spike, its tip blunted, fell to the ground after striking Helen's raised shield.
Thud!
So heavy was it that the earth cratered where it landed.
Clang!
This time, the Dragon Buster's fragments automatically adhered to Helen's body, transforming into armor.
She glared across at Count Vlad.
It was blatant provocation, targeting her—the supreme commander—in a single strike.
Count Vlad was goading the allied forces into attacking the castle.
Helen ground her teeth.
'If we back down here, morale will plummet even further.'
Yet launching an assault on the well-defended Jupiter without preparation was impossible.
As supreme commander, Helen agonized over how to respond to Count Vlad's sudden provocation.
Countless knights from various families were watching.
It was then.
"Supreme Commander."
Grand Duchess Alicia Himonas approached with her northern knights.
"Duchess."
Helen tensed as Alicia, leading her knights and exuding a strong presence, drew near.
She wondered what the duchess might say.
If the duchess, weary of the protracted stalemate, declared withdrawal now, morale would hit rock bottom. It would also put Helen's own position in a bind, given her prior favoritism toward the north.
Alicia, now close, casually picked up the fallen iron spike.
She looked at Helen and said,
"They've sent their regards. May I reply on behalf of the supreme commander?"