After I died, my personal maid rebelled.

The soldiers of the three regiments reacted like hot oil poured into a cold pool, instantly erupting into a chaotic and intense frenzy. At the royal palace, a classic battlefield, the veterans who had been transporting supplies still vividly remembered the spectacle of the curse's outbreak.

The veteran was not old, around thirty-five years old, with a weathered face that made him stand out among the group of greenhorns.

Anyone with eyes could see that this wasn't his first time in the army. The standard gesture of slightly tiptoeing when he saluted was enough to prove that he was a seasoned veteran who had served in the Imperial Guard.

But the officer in charge of recruiting and training them, Erian, didn't care, and the Duke cared even less.

Let alone those of unknown origin, the Second Division alone has several thousand former Imperial Guards on the surface. One more or one less makes no difference, so there's no need to expose the truth.

The veteran never expected that his first battle as a logistics soldier would be in the royal palace. What does that mean? Does it mean that the battle will start again from where it ended?

After joining the Northern Army, the veteran finally understood why the renowned Imperial Guards couldn't defeat the Northern Army.

There's no comparison. Every other family equips even their ordinary soldiers with fine armor, long spears, swords, and crossbows—everything they need—and supplies are shipped out one ship after another…

The system-of-systems warfare works like this: while he was carrying two loads of arrows, a weapons repair station and a field hospital had already been set up at the front. All that was left was for the 3rd Division and 1st Regiment to clear out the monsters in the palace and deploy the mobile construction vehicles.

"Quick, quick, quick! Get this batch of supplies up to the city wall!"

With the help of the Third Division and the First Regiment, Erión, who was guarding the entrance to the passage, no longer needed to fight the monsters. Instead, he built small defensive positions along the transport line.

Upon hearing the order, the veteran, without a word, shouldered a box of Molotov cocktails, grabbed a bundle of arrows, and rushed to the front line.

Because he was good at walking and could run fast, he was mainly responsible for carrying some light supplies. The new recruits, who were at the peak of their physical strength, were different; they needed to work together to carry heavy armor and large crossbows that needed to be disassembled and reassembled.

The closer he got to the battlefield, the louder the sounds of fighting became, as if trying to fill his ears. The city wall the veteran was heading to was guarded by the 1st Regiment of the 2nd Division, where the fighting was the bloodiest and fiercest.

Outside the towering city walls, a pale purple light filled the entire night sky. Warriors on the walls were firing arrows with all their might, their cries of agony echoing through the air. What shocked the veteran the most was that the palace gates were completely open.

"Leave the arrows behind, and deliver the Molotov cocktails to the positions ahead! Be careful!" A wounded soldier leaning against the wall, cursing as he received a hasty bandage, roared a warning.

This was the fourth logistics soldier he had encountered who was completely disoriented.

"Okay."

The veteran stood there stunned for a moment, then hurriedly left the arrows behind, grabbed the Molotov cocktail, and ran quickly out of the palace gate.

As soon as you step through that gate, the aura of mountains of corpses and seas of blood hits you. On the makeshift battlefield, flames serve as defenses and thick fog as cover. In the jungle of chains symbolizing death, soldiers of the Northern Army are engaged in fierce battles with hordes of monsters.

Everywhere you look, there are scenes of battle, where even the bravest human soldiers can wrestle and fight these terrifying monsters in pools of blood.

"Don't break away from your combat group. Hold on a little longer; the heavy infantry need time to refit."

The Duchess of the North became the best hunter in this jungle. With a swift movement, she cut through the blood, severing the monster's neck with a single stroke, while also lifting the soldiers off the tentacles and tossing them into the ranks.

"Don't just stand there, get into the fight!"

The stunned veteran was knocked into the mud. A thrown spear grazed past him. Before he could react, the Northern soldier who had saved him hurriedly opened the wooden crate, grabbed a Molotov cocktail, and ran forward.

Boom! Boom!

Two balls of fire were thrown into the monster horde, releasing large amounts of black mist. Immediately afterwards, several corrupted chains swept across, smashing into clouds of blood mist.

Amidst the interplay of red and black, the Northern soldiers, having gained a respite, immediately retreated to regroup, seized the wooden crates containing Molotov cocktails, and continued their attack.

"Logistics personnel? Deliver them and then withdraw!"

The veteran couldn't remember how many times he was yelled at in that minute, but he didn't see it as an insult. Instead, he felt a strange emotion rising in his heart.

Although he wanted to stay and fight alongside his comrades to reclaim their former glory, he had not yet systematically learned this kind of combat squad-style combat method, and staying would only hold his comrades back.

The veteran turned around and could only keep running. He was a logistics soldier, and the effects of the Molotov cocktails had made him understand the responsibility on his shoulders.

There's no time to hesitate. The front lines need heavily armored soldiers, but our armor hasn't arrived yet!

The last massive rout of the royal palace was still fresh in everyone's mind. The enemy had also produced a monster made of human bodies, but that time, the number of soldiers who rushed to the front lines was far less than the number of deserters...

"Make way, make way, don't block the road!"

A new unit designation suddenly appeared in the palace. Commander Kate, who was closely monitoring the frontline battles, once again dispatched a militia regiment under his command to alleviate the logistical pressure.

Outside the royal city, Kate's heart was in his throat. It didn't matter if he suffered a little here, but the Duke was in the palace. If anything went wrong, even if he had forty more heads, it wouldn't be enough for the young lady to chop them off.

The seasoned militia quickly demonstrated qualities far exceeding those of ordinary troops. Together, they carried large wooden crates of armor and shields, their synchronized steps moving faster than a sprint, rapidly forming a surging torrent of supplies.

Picking up another box of Molotov cocktails, the veteran quickly caught up with the militiamen of the Second Division and ran past them.

Having learned from experience this time, the veteran rushed out of the palace gate without stopping, found the combat squad that was resting, put down the Molotov cocktails, and turned to retreat.

The battlefield is constantly changing, like a series of comic strips etched into the veterans' minds.

The front line gradually began to form defensive lines constructed by shield guards, and the heavy crossbows on the city walls were also assembled. The veteran had personally witnessed those sharp arrows pierce a monster's head with a large hole.

The Northern Army's firepower intensified, and elite soldiers from the 1st Regiment of the 3rd Division, who had been liberated from the battle at the palace, were gradually pouring into the battlefield outside the walls.

During the run, the veteran heard a messenger report that the monsters inside the palace had been largely eliminated.

The tide of battle turned in favor of humanity. As dawn broke, the old soldiers, too exhausted to run any longer, leaned against the mountain of supply crates piled up beneath the city walls and accepted cigarettes from the wounded soldiers.

The battle outside the city walls was still raging, while the heavily armored soldiers inside the walls had completed their armament.

Monsters possess human emotions, which is both their strength and their weakness. Federico personally led his most elite soldiers to show the monsters what the blades of the North truly meant.

Just because you have a few tentacles doesn't mean you can act arrogantly in front of humans.

Federico's deep voice rang out as he fastened his armor.

"This is our land, our sky! Warriors, have no pity, for the messenger's call from hell will guide us to the other side of a new era."

"Now, follow me and fight your way out! Let's use the power of humanity to answer the roar of the false god!"

"Victory belongs to the saints!"

With a roar, nearly a thousand heavily armored soldiers launched a massive counter-charge at the break of dawn. The archers on the city walls were also roused, determined to use this battle to definitively declare the northern army's occupation of the palace.