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Marian knew of the heroes from the last war.

This wasn’t about whimsical tales, like those cheap ballads sung by bards for a handful of coins at an inn.

Sometimes through letters, and at other times right next to her, she directly heard the experiences of Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army, Marquis Kalstein, who was a member of the continent’s seven heroes.

While it wasn’t exactly top-secret information that even a beloved granddaughter couldn’t reveal, in terms of quality, it was certainly on a different level compared to the rumors circulating outside.

Thus, Marian was confident that although she hadn’t directly experienced the war, she knew more about it than the average person.

Suddenly, the tale of a great warrior who defended the city alone, barricading a broken castle gate, came to her mind.

It was a tale so famous that countless bards had turned it into a ballad. Many even claimed that no hero could surpass that great warrior in a defensive battle.

People praised how fiercely the great warrior fought and how grand their achievements were.

However, in this moment, Marian was sure.

No matter how great that warrior’s battle was back then,

her instructor right now would not be any less impressive.

Instructor Ion dashed through the city clad in a skin-tight black armor. His movements, which spared no direction—front, back, left, right, sometimes even up and down—continued without pause. The Red Magic Spear in his hand sliced through the air with an edge that matched its master.

<Swoosh!>

“Grrr…!!”

With one thrust, dozens of ghouls fell, their heads pierced.

[Heehee-!]

With one swing, dozens of Death Knights rolled on the ground with their steeds.

‘…Incredible.’

Marian couldn’t even begin to articulate this battle. All she saw was a cacophony of sounds like boom! crash! and a torrent of Undead being swept away.

She barely caught a glimpse of the fading afterimage of the Red Spear and couldn’t keep up with her instructor’s movements. Perhaps the enemies couldn’t either? The undead forces were unable to hinder Instructor Ion’s charging feet.

Confronting an army with just one’s own strength is impossible. To overwhelm an entire army alone is downright impossible, by any logical standard.

Yet, Instructor Ion was making the impossible a reality with his very being.

It was an achievement fitting for words like “unmatched” and “peerless.”

His overwhelming might truly suited the title of the continent’s seven heroes.

Marian suddenly pondered.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be completely impossible for Instructor Ion to hold the line alone.

But the situation wasn’t as optimistic as she thought.

“……”

A mountain of corpses piled up around Ion.

Once living corpses, but now just corpses.

“Whew… Huh!”

He steadied his breath, gathering his focus, and let out a powerful thrust with his spear. The immense magical energy extending from his heart wrapped around his shoulders and arms, shooting out in a straight line.

No longer seeking to hide his dark magic, he unleashed an overwhelming projection of magic.

The crimson magical energy, shot like a spear, created a massive scar on the ground as it flew towards the Undying Legion Commander.

It was a force strong enough that even in a Master Class engagement, one’s life wouldn’t be guaranteed if hit directly, yet the Undying Legion Commander didn’t flinch at all upon seeing the incoming magic spear.

The army of the dead surrounding him was throwing themselves like straw to block Ion’s attack.

Death Knights, Dullahans, Doom Knights, Skeleton Commanders—these top-tier Undead sacrificed themselves to halt Ion’s attack, only for it to ultimately hit the magical barrier enveloping the Undying Legion Commander before fading away with a .

Ion clicked his tongue lightly from behind his helmet.

As expected, it was hard to get good results with ranged attacks.

To land a proper blow, he needed to deliver a direct strike on the main body, but given the current situation, that wasn’t feasible. Ion wasn’t alone; he had students around him to protect.

Right now, it was no exaggeration to say that the City Hall was being held firm by Ion alone. The distance to the Undying Legion Commander was about 1 kilometer. To Ion, that might as well be a stone’s throw, but the army of the dead wouldn’t allow that brief opening.

The Undying Legion Commander seemed to understand this already as the Undead tried to ignore Ion, instead attempting to invade the building, surrounding him.

Their intent was clear: to stall for time. Curiously, that intent was working.

On the surface, the situation appeared to be at a stalemate. Ion couldn’t attack the Undying Legion Commander due to the army blocking him, but the same was true for the other side.

No lesser undead could stop Ion, and no matter how absurd the numbers of the army were, that massive count was also gradually decreasing. The Faceless Hero, now unleashing his full power, was incredibly formidable.

If time passed like this, it seemed like it might be possible for Ion alone to annihilate the army, making it feel as if he had the upper hand.

However, peeling back that facade revealed the exact opposite.

Ion swung his spear relentlessly while gazing at the Undying Legion Commander.

The Undying Legion Commander was emitting a storm-like surge of magic in all directions, while he himself was quietly concentrating like the eye of a storm.

“An attempt at ascendance…”

Once, Ion had stepped into this, only to be forced to give up.

A realm that transcended even the Grand Master.

Insufficient offerings and an imperfect ceremony. To Ion, the chances of that ceremony succeeding appeared exceedingly slim.

But just maybe, even if the likelihood was one in ten thousand, if it succeeded, the current situation would completely turn upside down.

The emergence of an Ascendant.

It would signify the birth of the next Demon King on this battlefield.

‘That must be stopped.’

If a 1:1 situation could somehow be created, he felt confident he could shatter the ceremony immediately. The problem was that such a scenario was not manifesting.

If only someone could buy a little time, but… it was a miracle that the students had held out until Ion arrived in the city.

The city guards and adventurers were in the same boat. Asking those already worn down to buy time was almost the same as asking them to throw their lives away. Expecting them to fight again was a stretch.

At this rate, Ion would have to endure alone while watching the Undying Legion Commander achieve ascendance in broad daylight.

There was… a method to turn this situation around.

If the opponent was trying to gain the power of an Ascendant, then he only needed to draw upon a corresponding power here.

People often fall into this misconception. They think the armor of the Faceless Hero is a true display of one’s own strength.

But that statement is only half right and half wrong. This full-body armor is not armor meant to protect the body; it is more like shackles that suppress one’s own abilities. To use the immense dark magic sealed within Ion’s heart as safely as possible, this form was a necessity.

So then, if he were to remove that armor…

If he could unleash his inner strength without any constraints…

Ion could ascend at this very moment.

“……”

Of course, it was something utterly unworthy of consideration. If he bore the powers of an Ascendant, he could easily sweep away this army, and stopping the ceremony would be a trivial task, but unsealing the powers of the former Demon King just to thwart the birth of the next was akin to burning down a house to catch a flea. Ultimately, he had to finish things as they were.

The students were vaguely sensing that the situation was dire.

“Oz, are you okay? What are you thinking so much about?”

“…The magic… it’s too ominous. At this rate, something is definitely going to happen.”

Osnia was slumped against Gwen like a gooey slime. She had no magic left in her body from the arduous battle, but despite her limbs being drained of strength, her eyes were fixed on Instructor Ion.

From the outside, it appeared to be a magnificent spectacle of Ion sweeping away the undead solo, but it was clear to anyone not foolish that they could not leave their positions to protect themselves.

The magic storm surrounding the Undying Legion Commander was intensifying.

If he drew a sword, he should swing it, and if he amassed magic, he should use it—that’s the natural order of things.

Because of that, it felt to Osnia like a bomb with a lit fuse. The moment of explosion was just waiting to arrive, and that sentiment was quite accurate.

She wanted to do something to aid Instructor Ion, but the students were just as helpless. What could they, mere protectees, do when even the overwhelming strength of the Faceless Hero couldn’t turn the tide?

Marian nervously gnawed at her well-manicured nails. For a moment, she marveled at the instructor’s prowess, but soon anxiety took over her heart.

‘I need to do something… anything…’

Mechanical golem troops? Strategies and tactics? Should I become bait? Or a hostage? But had the Undying Legion Commander ever clashed with Grandpa on the battlefield? Even if I leveraged being a dragon family’s granddaughter, would that hold any value? What exactly do I need to do to create a variable?

No plausible plan came to mind, even after checking all that she had. As she felt her own powerlessness start to well up in her, a gentle touch rested upon her shoulder.

The owner of the hand was Elizabeth.

With a soft smile, Elizabeth spoke.

“It’s okay. I’ve already set things up.”

“Set things up? What do you mean?”

“If we just wait, it won’t only be the Undying Legion Commander who wins.”

Elizabeth’s voice was different than usual. Her frequent use of magic had left her vocal cords strained, and she spoke with a dry, cracked sound instead of her usual melodic voice, yet she was undeterred by the pain as she looked confidently over the broken city walls toward the horizon.

As if she were sure something was about to happen over there.

“Look, it seems they’ve arrived just in time.”

“Arrived…?”

Marian frowned hard, squeezing her eyes shut.

Even rubbing her eyes and looking again, all she saw was the army of Undead.

“What do you mean you see something… huh?”

She didn’t see anything.

But there, in the distance, a sound echoed.

[Whoo—oo—]

A long, resounding trumpet sound came from beyond the horizon.

Marian recognized that sound well. It was the uniquely heavy horn sound produced when cutting the horn of a drake, a dragon-like being.

And the only army using a dragon’s horn trumpet on this continent was the Imperial Army, which symbolized dragons.

Soon, ten thousand cavalry would come thundering in, scattering the undead.

At the forefront of that formation was a man’s face that Marian knew all too well.

“Marian!!!”

“G-Grandpa!?”

Even at over sixty years old, with a frail body, he was still an active veteran of the Imperial Army.

He was Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army, one of the continent’s seven heroes, and also a student’s grandfather.

“Wait! This old man is coming to save you now!!”

Calvard von Kalstein shouted as he turned the undead into a skewered kebab with his cavalry spear.

 

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