Two months.

That was all it took.
For the count’s once-hopeful domain to become hell again.

At first, things went well.
Right after we reclaimed the county from the Empire, I headed to the prison.

Edmon Belgard.

Unlike the traitorous Baron Dermus, he was a loyal knight who fought by the count’s side until the very end.

But loyalty alone couldn’t defeat the Empire.
In the end, he was captured alive.

"I’ve already made my will clear. I will never surrender to the likes of you."

"Um…"

"Go ahead and kill me! My lord awaits this worthless old servant—I won’t keep him waiting any longer!"

The moment he saw me through the bars, Baron Belgard barked angrily.
It was quite the first impression—memorable, if nothing else.

Honestly, I thought they’d caught a bear instead of a man.

He stood over two meters tall, with muscles like iron and skin darkened by the sun.
If he hadn’t shouted at me, I might have kept that impression a while longer.

Anyway, once I explained everything, the baron’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit.

"Is that true? You defeated the Imperial army that had seized the castle?"

"That’s right."

"Then the traitor—no, Baron Dermus—what became of him?"

"I handed him over to Count Sandwi’s men. By now, I imagine he’s getting what he deserves."

"Truly, thank you! You are the savior of our count’s domain!!"

Bang!

Baron Belgard was not a man who held back his gratitude.
The problem was that his gratitude was a little… extreme.

Who slams their forehead into the ground hard enough to bleed just to say thanks?

It was a bit overwhelming.
I tried to refuse politely, of course—but the baron wouldn’t move until I accepted it.
So, I had no choice.

At least one thing was certain—he was very, very grateful.

"We don’t have time to rest. The Imperial army may have retreated for now, but we don’t know when they’ll return."

"Indeed. Though I am but a foolish old man, I shall do all I can to serve you, Lord Blackguard."

Baron Belgard was competent.
He couldn’t read or write—he’d spent his life training with a sword—but the wisdom born from experience was nothing to scoff at.

"My lord, I’ve gathered up the deserters who surrendered or fled before."

"You found them? Where were they?"

"They were hiding in the nearby forests and caves. But no one can escape these old eyes."

Having served in the count’s domain for decades, the veteran knight knew the land inside out.
That made rounding up deserters much easier.

But that wasn’t all.
News of the county’s recapture spread quickly, and wandering nobles began to gather around us.

"I am Viscount Harban of the East. I was lucky enough to evade the Empire’s patrols and make it here."

"Welcome. Together, we can stand against the Empire."

"Thank you."

Once we combined the baron’s recovered troops with those brought by the nobles, our forces numbered around a thousand.
Still small compared to the Empire—but enough to call ourselves an army.

‘Maybe this time, we can hold out. Maybe I don’t have to die again.’

For a moment, I felt hope.
Hope that I might finally survive this hell.

But that hope turned to despair in just two months.

My body grew weak.
It felt like my soul was slipping out of me.

My throat cracked like a droughted riverbed.
My stomach clung to my back from hunger.

Eventually, I collapsed like the others.
I couldn’t move.

After two months, I met death once again—and this time, my glorious cause of death was starvation.

"Ugh…!!"

I gasped for breath and opened my eyes.
Everything had returned to its original place.

Outside, the newly rebuilt army was training hard.
And I was in the office.

In front of me stood a familiar face—Edmon Belgard, the loyal knight himself.

"My lord, please reconsider. There is no one but you who can lead us."

"…"

That’s right.
I was back.

Two months back.

More precisely—right before I had handed over command.

I’d said it countless times already, but I had always been an ordinary man.

And now I was supposed to lead a thousand soldiers?
I couldn’t even manage a small team at work, let alone this.

Worse, I’d died more times than I could count.
I knew what that pain felt like.

‘If my mistakes could make others suffer that same pain… how could I possibly bear that responsibility?’

Just imagining it made my hands tremble.
I didn’t want that weight on my shoulders.

So I gave up command.
I believed someone else could do better.

But the result of that belief was disaster.
I laughed bitterly at the irony.

Two months.

That was all it took for me to see the true depths of human nature.

Factions fighting over command.
Soldiers stealing supplies and deserting.

I’d seen the worst of humanity—every last bit of it.

‘Still… I didn’t expect to return two months back. This is new.’

Before, each regression had sent me back at most half a day.

So I thought this time would be no different.
But no—it sent me all the way back to before I handed over command.

‘I still don’t get it. What determines the point I return to each time?’

But I didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it.
Before long, they would be here again.

I had to move before that.
Time was short.

‘First, I’ll deal with the bastard who tried to flee with the supplies last night.’

Looks like I’ll have to lead after all.
I’d finally learned the truth.

This is why you should never give authority to someone who wants it too badly.
Lesson learned.

Under the cold glow of moonlight, she studied the map spread across her desk.

Her golden hair shimmered more brightly than the pale light of the moon,
and her porcelain skin almost seemed to glow beneath it.

"So, to summarize—you lost over four hundred soldiers to a single man, and even the castle itself fell?"

"I have no excuse, Your Highness. I’ll pay for my failure with my life—"

"That won’t be necessary."

The princess shook her head firmly.

There were times when she needed to scold her subordinates for incompetence—
but this wasn’t one of them.

She trusted the Imperial army more than anyone.

If her soldiers had been defeated by one man, then the answer was simple.

"That man is at least a top-tier Expert… possibly even Master Class in the worst case."

"A Master Class?! But… there are only five in the entire Empire!"

"How could such a person exist in this small, weak kingdom?"

"Of course, it’s only speculation. The odds are low—but we must always assume the worst."

She didn’t truly believe he was Master Class,
but she had to prepare as though he were.

After all, he had single-handedly taken a fortress.
The princess didn’t deliberate long.

"We have no choice but to retreat."

"Retreat? But we’ve already surrounded the royal capital!"

"They can hold out for at least six months. But we, on the other hand, have our supply lines cut off."

Even the strongest army will fall without proper supplies.

The princess knew this well—from the Empire’s own bloody history.

That was why she had split her forces, sending thirty thousand and twenty thousand to occupy the eastern region.

"The east of the kingdom is friendly to the Empire—and it’s also the breadbasket of the land. Not to mention, one of our key supply bases is located there."

"Then you mean—"

"Yes. If we stay here, we risk losing both of our supply bases."

The princess had planned this campaign meticulously.

She’d deployed engineers to construct roads for supply transport,
and secured steady lines from the Empire itself.

She’d also taken steps to seize the kingdom’s fertile farmlands, ensuring food for the army.

"If that man learns the locations of our supply bases, hell will begin. We must besiege and kill him before that happens."

Killing an enemy and capturing his supplies is the oldest law of warfare.

And yes—it was worth abandoning the siege of the royal capital.

The moment she heard the reports, she understood—
that man was the kingdom’s only rallying point.

‘Cain Blackguard… If he dies, the Empire will win this war.’

It would take time, but removing the greatest variable ensured victory.

That was why she, personally, would lead the army toward the count’s domain.

Morgana von Rubellion Lagna.

The prodigy known as Heaven’s Chosen Star had begun to move.

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