Breath caught in his throat.

He hadn’t swung the greatsword many times, yet exhaustion had already reached its limit.

Contrary to what he thought, the greatsword was a weapon that required delicate control.

If he were to swing it recklessly, he might see short-term results, but his stamina would run dry almost immediately.

That was exactly what happened the first time.
Breaking through the gate and shouting triumphantly had felt good.

The problem, however, was that the sword weighed several times heavier than he had imagined.

Neither his strength nor his technique was enough to handle it.

"That monster’s getting tired!"

"Finish him off for good!!"

"Damn it."

Even rotten, the Empire was still the Empire.
The moment he exposed a weakness, they noticed immediately.

That was how it ended the first time—his head separated from his body.

After countless deaths, he had learned how to conserve stamina through breathing.

But that only worked under normal circumstances, and this was far from normal.

Even just standing still with the greatsword on his shoulder felt overwhelming.

Yet despite that, there were still too many mountains he had to climb.

‘I can deal with ordinary imperial soldiers somehow. The real problem is…’

Each death made him slightly stronger. Step by step, he pushed forward.

But this time, the mountain before him was far too massive, far too steep to even imagine climbing.

After cutting down dozens through countless deaths, they finally stepped forward.

"Pull the soldiers back."

"You’ve done well so far. From here, we knights will take over."

"Form ranks. Don’t underestimate the enemy—fight with everything you’ve got."

It seemed they decided that continuing with mere soldiers would cause unnecessary losses.

Knights clad in bright white armor took their positions and drew their swords.

There was no trace of arrogance or carelessness in their eyes.

‘F*ck… they’re strong, and they’re not even overconfident. That’s just unfair.’

They were strong. Incredibly so.
Stronger, perhaps, than that lunatic who called himself a knight of honor.

Fighting even one aura user had been nearly impossible—now there were five of them.

And considering the ones out on patrols and campaigns, that number was absurd.

‘The knights are bad enough… but the real problem is the mages on the wall.’

Mages and archers on the ramparts waited for the smallest opening.

It felt like the entire world was holding its breath, waiting to cut his throat.

The moment the aura-imbued swords clashed with his greatsword, his head flew again.

‘There’s not a single opening. It’s like fighting a giant with ten arms.’

The imperial soldiers were no joke, but the knights were on another level entirely.

The instant he blocked the first strike, another knight was already at his blind spot.

Even knowing it from past deaths didn’t make it easier to block.

[Come forth. I shall neither run nor hide. Who will claim the head of the Mountain Lord of the East?]

Every time his life was severed, he relived another death.

Betrayed by one he once called friend, reduced to a candle flickering before a storm.

And yet, the count swung his sword proudly, unyielding until the end.

‘I see now… that’s Count Sandwi’s swordsmanship—ferocious like a tiger.’

Rough, crude, but pure and powerful—the ultimate form of the greatsword.

Even the Empire’s finest knights couldn’t withstand a single blow from it.

The moment he witnessed it, he finally understood what he needed to achieve.

"Hup!"

He engraved the count’s rugged swordsmanship into his eyes and tried to reproduce it.

Of course, seeing it once and perfectly mimicking it would make him a genius, not a mortal.

Naturally, he wasn’t a genius. There was no way he could master it in one try.

‘If I don’t have teeth, I’ll use my gums. If I can’t do it now, I’ll keep trying until I can.’

It was a process of endless agony. Pain that would never become familiar.

Beheaded, dismembered, burned alive by falling fire.

He died again and again. And each time he opened his eyes, he lifted his sword without hesitation.

Perhaps because the situation was so hopeless,

the number of his deaths had already passed three digits.

Stepping over a sea of corpses—his own corpses—he pressed forward.

The Empire’s strategy was swift domination.

Crush all who dared defy His Majesty—but if they surrendered, show mercy.

Not out of kindness, but out of calculation.

If those who surrendered were still executed, then others would simply fight to the end.

Even a rat bites when cornered—what more of men?

[Station ten thousand troops around Count Sandwi’s territory to secure the east.]

[But if they continue to resist, it may take considerable time.]

[That won’t happen. The eastern nobles of Arpen have always been friendly toward the Empire.]

The Kingdom of Arpen’s east bordered the Empire, while its south bordered the Alliance.

Naturally, the east leaned toward the Empire, while the south favored the Alliance.

Of course—people always side with whoever fills their pockets.

[In other words, now that the pro-Alliance faction dominates the court, the pro-Empire nobles in the east are being left in the cold.]

As Her Highness said, most eastern nobles were deeply dissatisfied.

Even without that, faced with overwhelming imperial might, most chose to surrender.

That was why only 1,300 troops and ten knights remained in the Count’s territory.

Considering that 800 of them were remnants led by Sir Valentis,

it meant the Count’s own standing army was barely 500.

[But Your Highness, is it truly fine to leave only 500 men to hold the conquered territory?]

[What is there to fear? Once the Count’s land falls, no one in the east can stand against us.]

It wasn’t wrong. The only remaining threat in the east had been Count Sandwi.

But even he fell within fifteen days to the princess’s divide-and-conquer strategy.

The royal family was now cowering in the capital, refusing to even step outside.

Once the Empire consolidated the east and rebuilt its supply lines,

it would take less than a year for the Arpen Kingdom to be fully absorbed.

The princess’s plan was nearly perfect—except for one unpredictable variable.

"Khuk?!"

"Urgh…!!"

"N-no way! Two of our knights—defeated with a single strike?!"

The horrified voice perfectly described the situation.

When the knights had first stepped in, everyone had felt relief.

The knights of the Empire were renowned not only for loyalty, but also unmatched skill.

And there were five of them, fighting together. How could they possibly lose?

Sure, the enemy was a monster—but that’s what knights were for.

The monster’s death had seemed imminent… until that illusion shattered in an instant.

One strike.

With a single blow, two knights were decapitated.

Then—

Boom!

The monster stomped the ground, soaring forward with explosive power,

and immediately overwhelmed another knight.

Even in that split second, the knight managed to raise his aura in defense—impressive.

But unfortunately, his opponent was one step ahead.

The monster struck exactly where the defense was weakest,

and another knight fell lifeless.

In seconds, three of the Empire’s five knights were dead.

The mages on the wall panicked and began casting spells.

"W-what?! He jumped into the ranks?!"

"What do we do?! If we cast now—"

"Shut up! You’ll kill our own soldiers!"

He’d deliberately leapt into the soldiers’ midst to stop them from casting.

If they unleashed magic now, their own troops would take the brunt of it.

They couldn’t burn down the house just to catch one rat.

And yet—

‘How can he do that…? Charging into death to find another death waiting.’

Even a powerful knight couldn’t survive being surrounded—not unless he was a master.

But this man threw himself into the horde again and again like a suicidal berserker.

Worse still, he wasn’t dying—he was mowing them down.

"Uaaaargh!!"

"Monster!!"

The 800 soldiers who had once witnessed his power froze.

The man drenched in blood, hacking down his own kind without mercy—

The nightmare they thought they’d escaped that day—

was unfolding again, right before their eyes.

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