For Galbaric, it didn't matter that Vanessa had reached the 7th circle or that Alfoy had ascended to the 5th.
His mind was focused on one thing: this time, he would restore the pride of the dwarves.
The large catapults, capable of holding up to a thousand spear shafts, required far more precision than their medium-sized counterparts.
Galbaric personally visited every forge in the domain, crafting prototypes by hand to standardize the specifications.
"Hurry up! Test it already! Quickly!"
Unable to suppress his excitement, Galbaric pushed Ghislain and his entourage to prepare the demonstration.
The soldiers who had previously trained with the equipment were gathered again at an abandoned fortress. With practiced hands, they assembled five medium-sized catapults using Galvaniium spear shafts.
Claude, looking thoroughly unenthused, shouted, "Fire!"
Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!
Boom!
All five catapults hurled their projectiles with precision, striking their intended targets. Part of the fortress wall crumbled under the impact, a testament to their destructive power.
The onlookers, initially skeptical, began to show their admiration.
"Wow! It's accurate this time!"
"The power is impressive as well."
"Equipping a thousand soldiers with five medium-sized catapults like these would grant immense mobility on the battlefield."
The crowd broke into applause. Even at this level, the achievement was impressive.
The Real Test: The Large Catapult
However, the real test was yet to come. Sturdy and massive fortress walls couldn't be breached with medium-sized catapults alone. A large-scale catapult was essential for such a task.
"Assemble it!"
This time, Claude looked slightly less annoyed as he gave the order. The soldiers quickly disassembled the five medium-sized catapults, gathering all the spear shafts into one place.
Given the size of the large catapult, it was crucial to properly connect its supports. The soldiers, working in teams, carefully constructed each part before combining them.
Thanks to their training, the process didn't take long. The medium-sized catapults were dismantled, and a large catapult took shape in their place.
Onlookers couldn't hide their amazement.
"Wow… they actually managed to build it…"
"The way it can be taken apart and reassembled is incredible!"
"But it's so big… Can it withstand the impact?"
While the structure was impressive, it looked somewhat fragile with only the Galvaniium spear shafts forming its frame.
Could such a skeletal-looking catapult endure the weight of massive stones and still fire accurately?
The Shot
"Fire!"
At Claude's signal, the large catapult released its payload.
Boom!
With a deafening roar, the projectile flew with incredible speed, striking its target with pinpoint accuracy.
Kaboom!
The impact obliterated a section of the fortress in an instant. Despite the fortress being a small one, the destructive power was astonishing.
"Whoa!"
"That's insane!"
"With that kind of power, we could break through Cardenia!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, convinced that even the strongest fortresses would crumble if they had just ten of these large catapults.
Having succeeded in both the medium and large catapult demonstrations, it was clear these weapons would perform well on the battlefield.
Celebration
Galbaric and the dwarves clenched their fists in triumph, their past frustrations washed away in a wave of elation.
"Yaaahhhh!"
Galbaric, overcome with excitement, ran straight to Claude.
"Did you see that? We did it! Did you see it, huh? Did you?"
"Yes, yes," Claude replied half-heartedly, nodding along.
Spittle flying, Galbaric shouted, "Do you know how much I've suffered because of you? How much I worried it might fail again? It felt like my life was draining away in real time!"
"Life always drains away in real time."
"…What?"
Galbaric blinked, realizing that arguing with Claude was a futile endeavor.
"Anyway! We succeeded! So don't look down on us dwarves ever again!"
"Yes, yes."
"You little…!"
As Galbaric lunged at Claude, Wendy quickly intervened, pushing Claude aside and defusing the situation.
Ghislain's Strategy
Meanwhile, Ghislain paid no attention to the chaos unfolding nearby. Instead, he focused on Lowell, his intelligence officer.
"Have you been keeping track of Marquis Rodrik's movements?"
"He's currently busy subjugating bandits. However, his forces are stretched thin, scattered across multiple locations. It seems to be giving him a considerable headache."
"Hmm, that's a promising development."
Marquis Rodrik had suffered significant losses in their previous skirmish, especially because Ghislain had deliberately released the remnants of defeated soldiers rather than killing or capturing them.
By doing so, he not only weakened the enemy's forces but also created logistical headaches for Rodrik, effectively killing two birds with one stone.
Still, Marquis Rodrik, as the great lord of the western territories, commanded formidable forces. Despite his setbacks, he would recover and reorganize quickly.
"For now, continue gathering intelligence without pause. The Salvation Order's exposure will make nobles reevaluate their alliances, so the war will take some time to officially begin. Rodrik will also be preoccupied with the bandits."
"Understood."
After issuing a few additional orders to Lowell, Ghislain turned to his retainers.
"Redirect all production resources toward manufacturing Galvaniium spear shafts. We must complete our preparations before the enemy does."
Food, weapons, and potions were already in abundance. The remaining tasks were to equip every soldier with the new catapult ammunition and train the knights in mana convergence arrays using the Dragon Heart fragments.
Once the preparations were complete, they could unleash a storm upon their enemies.
"When Marquis Rodrik marches, we'll intercept him immediately," Ghislain declared.
Thanks to the Salvation Order's exposure, everything was proceeding even more smoothly than planned.
Ghislain couldn't help but smile, his expression one of utter satisfaction.
***
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Marquis Rodrik slammed his chair repeatedly, his voice echoing through the hall.
"You mean to tell me the bandits still haven't been dealt with? At this rate, when do you expect us to march?!"
The main force of the marquisate was nearly ready to mobilize, but leaving the region unattended was proving difficult.
A massive influx of bandits had begun to plague the lands surrounding the marquisate and its vassal territories.
Though Rodrik's forces prioritized targeting larger groups, the situation only worsened elsewhere.
"What's this nonsense about peasants joining up with those bastards?!"
In the poorer vassal territories, peasants had started siding with the bandits. Each time one group was crushed, another large force would emerge elsewhere.
For the peasants, it was a natural choice: the bandit groups were stronger than their own lords.@@novelbin@@
Rodrik's forces had even tried offering amnesty to defecting soldiers, promising forgiveness if they surrendered. But no one believed them.
Years of Rodrik's merciless treatment of his people had bred nothing but distrust.
"Damn it all… I should have just killed them all on the spot! That accursed bastard!"
Grinding his teeth, Rodrik cursed Ghislain. The thousands of scattered soldiers now turned bandits were proving to be an endless nightmare.
None of the retainers dared to speak up against the marquis' rage, fearing for their own lives.
After a long moment, Rodrik finally regained some composure and turned to Tenant, his knight commander.
"Tenant! Focus on eliminating the larger groups and leave the small fry for later. We'll deal with the rest after crushing Fenris!"
"…Understood."
Tenant, however, couldn't help but think it was the worst possible decision. Failing to properly suppress the bandits would only drive more peasants to join them.
This would further weaken the vassal lords, who would inevitably direct their resentment toward Rodrik.
But Rodrik didn't care. To him, restoring his personal honor was far more important than the well-being of his lands or vassals.
"Finish this quickly. The longer this drags on, the more my name will be dragged through the mud."
Rodrik's ultimatum left no room for argument, forcing everyone to bow in submission.
Royal Decree
As the tension hung heavy in the air, the marquis' steward rushed into the room, bearing a sealed letter.
"What is it?"
"A critical announcement from the royal palace, my lord."
"Hah! What could that half-dead puppet king possibly announce? It must be Branford spouting nonsense again."
With an angry swipe, Rodrik tore the seal and unfolded the letter.
As he read, his expression hardened.
"The ducal house has been officially declared in league with a heretical cult? And the four major churches have verified this?!"
Rodrik's face grew pale. Somehow, the pro-royalist faction had gained the backing of all four major churches.
This wasn't merely a declaration of treason against the ducal house—it was a devastating blow to anyone remotely connected to them.
If Rodrik himself were accused of heresy, it would be the end.
"What is the meaning of this?! Explain it clearly!"
The steward relayed all the information gathered through the marquisate's intelligence network.
As the report continued, the faces of Rodrik and his retainers grew darker.
Tenant was the first to break the silence.
"This is grave news. Fighting the royalists is one thing, but turning all four churches against us… Even if we win the civil war, it would be a disaster."
The four major churches were the spiritual pillars of the kingdom. While their clergy were often criticized, no one doubted the authority of the goddesses they worshipped.
If declared heretics by all four churches, even a victory in the civil war would mean losing legitimacy. The kingdom's people would never accept such a regime.
Forcing compliance through power would only invite neighboring kingdoms to invade under the pretext of a holy war.
In short, the kingdom would face utter ruin.
"What in the world has the ducal house done?!"
Rodrik muttered in frustration.
The existence of monsters tied to the ducal house was news to him. He had suspected something was amiss with Duke Delphine's prolonged absence, but he hadn't imagined such madness behind the scenes.
The steward hesitantly spoke again.
"Lord Branford has demanded all noble houses prove their innocence within a month. If not…"
Rodrik didn't need to hear the rest. The message was clear: failure to comply meant being branded heretical by the churches.
Grinding his teeth, Rodrik crumpled the letter in his fist.
"That bastard… using the churches as pawns in his schemes…"
The demand for proof of innocence was a thinly veiled ultimatum to abandon the ducal faction.
Rodrik's pride bristled at the thought, but he knew there was no other choice.
'If we joined forces with the ducal house, we could crush the royalists. We could even sweep aside the churches themselves.'
But what then? The kingdom would be left in ruins, a wasteland ravaged by holy war.
As much as Rodrik hated to admit it, Branford had outmaneuvered him. The marquis found himself trapped with no good options.
After a long, brooding silence, Rodrik suddenly let out a sinister chuckle.
"Hah… Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise."
While the situation was dire, it was equally perilous for other nobles in the ducal faction. Rodrik realized he could exploit this opportunity.
"We will publicly denounce the ducal house for their alliance with heretics. Announce that we are formally withdrawing from their faction."
"My lord, does this mean…?"
"Yes, this is our chance to bring down the ducal house and seize their position for ourselves."
The ducal house was undoubtedly the strongest single faction in the kingdom. But could they truly stand against the combined might of the kingdom and its four churches?
Rodrik was certain they couldn't.
And if the ducal house fell?
He would become the most powerful noble in the kingdom.
"Ahahaha! This couldn't have worked out better! Redirect our forces to target the ducal house. I will personally sever the head of that arrogant Viscount Josef!"
If the ducal house was to be eliminated, Rodrik needed to act decisively. Hesitation could result in a counterattack.
'The heavens themselves are aiding me!'
For years, Rodrik had suppressed his ambitions under the ducal house's shadow. Now, with their fall imminent, his ambitions burned brightly once more.
'I will become king of this kingdom.'
He hadn't spoken his dream aloud, but the fire in his eyes made his intent unmistakable.
Even Tenant nodded in agreement. From every angle, Rodrik's decision seemed sound.
Still, there was one matter that needed clarification.
"What about the second division, my lord? Should they still target Fenris as planned?"
"Of course. This is even better. Once I withdraw from the ducal faction, the royalists will have no reason to back that bastard Ghislain. They won't waste resources defending Fenris."
"You are correct. The royalists will focus solely on the ducal house. If they fight us, it will only weaken their position further."
"Exactly. And now that I'm free from the ducal house's burden, I can act without hesitation."
Both the ducal house and the royalists were now powerless to oppose him. Rodrik could focus entirely on annihilating Fenris.
"Hurry and finish suppressing the bandits. Prepare for departure. I will personally march on Fenris and burn it to the ground."
A cruel smile spread across Rodrik's face, full of unbridled ambition.