"Isn’t that just the truth?" Ethan rubbed his temples, not bothering to argue with her. Then he pressed on, "What about the other heroes? And their forces—how many are we talking?"
"A while back, the Inferno faction sent two King-tier powerhouses, and the Dungeon faction sent one. Between them, they deployed nearly forty orange-ranked Legendary heroes to the battlefield..." Roland said with a bitter smile.
"Forty?!" Ethan froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
"That’s right..." Roland nodded grimly. "So based on that, I’d estimate that the three King-tier leaders under those factions have at least fifty to sixty Lord-tier heroes under their command. As for their regular troops..."
He paused for a mont,
Then gave another helpless smile. "So far, based on our intel, they’ve already deployed over 9,000 units of Tier-13 Legendary creatures—Red Dragons, Shadow Dragons, Devils, and the like. And as for the Tier-14 Mythic units—Black Dragons, Inferno Arch Devils..."
"There’s probably at least 1,500 of those too."
"..." Ethan opened his mouth, but in the end, all he could do was let out a dry laugh. He didn’t say a word.
Back then, just a dozen or so Dungeon Lords, with around 1,000 Tier-13 Legendary units—Red Dragons, Shadow Dragons, and nearly 400 Black Dragons—had nearly wiped them out.
Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Isaryne...
And Thandor...
That war?
Erald Castle would’ve been toast. No question.
And now?
We’re talking a minimum of fifty to sixty Lord-tier heroes?
Over 9,000 Tier-13 Legendary units—Red Dragons, Shadow Dragons, Devils—and more than 1,500 Tier-14 Mythic units like Black Dragons and Inferno Arch Devils?
And on top of that, the three King-tier powerhouses from the Dungeon and Inferno factions?!
How the hell are they supposed to fight that?
That’s not a battle—that’s a suicide mission.
Still, Ethan waved his hand, clearly exasperated, and said flatly, "Alright, I get it. You guys can go now."
"...Lord Valkarion... you..." Roland hesitated, stamring, but Ethan cut him off again.
"Relax. I know what I need to do. But I’ll need ti to prepare. And I think you understand this too—if Erald Castle is the one to defeat them, if we’re the ones who end up defending those three empires..."
"Then those territories? They’re ours."
"You’re not gonna argue with that, right?"
"Of course not..." Cavalier Roland let out a breath of relief and nodded without hesitation. "Since the Castle faction has officially withdrawn, the Holy Vanguard Empire, Divine Bow Empire, and Holy Griffon Empire are now unclaid. Whoever defends them, whoever takes them back—that land belongs to them."
"Perfect." Ethan gave a satisfied nod, then turned and called out, "Cicero, let’s go. Ti to head ho."
"Rrraugh!"
"Yes, Master!"
Cicero nodded, lowered his massive body so Ethan could climb onto his back, then launched into the sky with a powerful beat of his wings.
"Gentlen, I won’t be seeing you off," Ethan said one last ti, glancing back at Dragonblade Knight Veyra and Roland, who both looked like they had more to say but held back. With that, he gave Cicero the signal, and they flew off into the distance.
Only after Ethan and Cicero had completely disappeared from view did Dragonblade Knight Veyra turn to Roland, her expression uncertain.
"Roland... why does this feel like a business deal to ?"
She wasn’t wrong. To her, this didn’t feel like so noble mission to uphold order or protect peace. It felt like a straight-up transaction—Erald Castle stepping in not out of duty, but because there was sothing to gain from fighting the Inferno and Dungeon factions.
"Princess Veyra, the world isn’t just black and white," Roland said quietly. "Lord Valtharion of Erald Castle has his own reasons, his own calculations. After all, he has a duty to protect his people, doesn’t he?"
"And the sa goes for us."
"Only victory can bring peace and preserve order. But if we keep pushing forward blindly now, all we’ll get is defeat. And when that happens, the losses will be even greater—especially for the common folk. For them, it’ll be a catastrophe."
"That’s why we have no choice. No—we must make a choice."
"To sacrifice a few... in order to save the many. To win. And their sacrifice won’t be aningless. They’re heroes, aren’t they?"
Roland gave a bitter smile.
"I..." Veyra hesitated, her lips parting, but no words ca out.
"Princess Veyra, let’s go."
"Instead of getting lost in doubt, we should give everything we’ve got. Even though we’ve pulled out of the Holy Vanguard Empire, Divine Bow Empire, and Holy Griffon Empire... there are still people in the other four empires—people suffering, people caught in brutal wars—who need us."
"So let’s head back."
"...Yeah. I understand now." A flicker of clarity crossed Dragonblade Knight Veyra’s face. She turned once more to glance in the direction Ethan and Cicero had flown off, her gaze lingering for a mont. Then she nodded firmly.
"Let’s go."
"We’re going ho."
...
"Master, this feels like a trap," Cicero said at last, his deep voice rumbling through the sky as they soared above the clouds. He’d been thinking it over for a while, and he couldn’t shake the feeling.
And he wasn’t wrong. It did feel like a trap—one that had been carefully laid out, just waiting for them to step into it.
"Yeah..." Ethan nodded, his eyes sharp, glinting with thought. "Back when we were holed up in Sylvanwood, we were in the shadows. Even if they were wary of us, they couldn’t really touch us. But if we actually take over those three empires..."
"From that mont on, Erald Castle won’t have any secrets left."
The logic was simple.
When your territory is small, your control is tight. It’s hard for outsiders to get in, hard for spies to infiltrate. Even if soone wants to dig into your secrets, they’ll hit a wall.
But the bigger your territory gets, the harder it is to maintain that control. The cracks start to show. Holes open up. And once that happens, it’s like trying to plug a dam with your fingers—everything starts leaking.
And secrets? They don’t stay secret for long.
Worse still, the more land you hold, the more visible you beco.
The more noticeable you are.
And that’s not a good thing. In fact, it’s a kind of trap in itself.
The nail that sticks out gets hamred down.
They’d be forced out of the shadows, shoved into the spotlight, right into the center of everyone’s attention.
And once that happens, they’d be under constant surveillance—every move watched, every decision scrutinized.
Sure, in the short term, expanding their territory would make them stronger. No doubt about that. But long term?
It was bait.
A lure.
A slow, sinking trap that would drag them into the mud—until they couldn’t move forward at all.
...
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