After I died, my personal maid rebelled.

It was dark, and the rain was pouring down.

Light and darkness intertwined on the battlefield, crushing the corpses scattered everywhere, like a handful of colorful blood, telling the story of the chaos of death.

Arrows, alchemical bombs, magical beams, and holy light lances filled the battlefield, while wails and roars tore at eardrums. Northern army warriors and monsters clashed in pools of blood, splattering mud and bits of flesh everywhere.

They received no orders, but the Northern Army's strategic deployment was already complete.

The mixed forces of the Loyal Death Legion and the Light Cavalry, flanking from the east and west, gripped the struggling Goddess Army like a pair of iron pincers.

The Goddess Army also focused on breaking through the defenses inside the royal city. The sea of ​​monsters was boundless, and how long this mill could keep turning depended entirely on how long Lucas and his men could hold out.

From late at night until dawn, the two sides clashed repeatedly on this narrow piece of land, corpses piled up like bunkers, and the people under their feet were unclear whether they were comrades or enemies. What devastated Lucas the most was that so many soldiers had died, the defensive line had been breached, yet the number of unknown comrades around him kept increasing.

Bloodshed and sacrifice bought time for the construction of the second line of defense. The officers of each regiment and battalion held a brief meeting. The veterans who had been healed leaped over the magical bombardment and hopped and skipped to the fortress where the guards were located.

"That's the situation. Although the war was complicated, it's become simpler now." In the darkness, the veteran lit an oil lamp and lit a cigarette for himself.

The thick smoke slowly dissipated, and the veteran coughed again and again, continuing to explain to everyone: "We are currently locked in a fierce battle with the Goddess Army. Even if our tongues are torn apart and all our teeth are broken, we must not give in."

"The High Nun is preparing a wide-area spell, and the circle around us should light up soon. The key is!" He stroked the dusty cheeks of the warriors with his rough hands.

"The key is that we must launch a new and effective offensive while the Loyal Legion is tied down by the enemy, forcing the Goddess Army to commit all its forces!"

Lucas looked at the thirty-odd people around him, including the fighting nuns and dwarf soldiers who had been scattered and infiltrated, and then silently lit a cigarette for himself.

Some say that war is like a farmer's son traveling thousands of miles to kill another farmer's son, all for the benefit of powerful and wealthy people he doesn't even know.

Peace is indeed hard-won, but another kind of war called struggle can never stop, because compromise is the cradle of suffering. If one generation makes a mistake, two, or even three or four generations will have to pay for it with a lifetime of suffering.

The struggle that Lucas and his team face is even more terrifying; if they lose, humanity will lose even the right to talk about the future.

Lucas still remembers that feeling, that feeling of his heart rotting and stinking, wishing he could rip out his heart, liver, and lungs and wash them clean with river water, as if only in this way could he live openly and honestly in today's world.

Sometimes, when we look back and think about it carefully, we wonder why we humans have become so corrupt. Is it because no one resisted? Dragon slayers, archbishops, great magicians, Duke Oswald—who among these famous figures didn't fight on the front lines?

Later, Lucas realized that it was us, it was us who stood by and watched these rebels sacrifice themselves, it was us who stood by and watched ourselves fall into depravity. Everyone wanted to wait, to wait until they had decided who to help after they had settled their score.

But they are us too! We were foolishly trying to be clever! We have no way out; if we're going to choose sides, we can only choose sides for ourselves!

"Don't talk about who's the hero for charging first. I've already reported all the names; we're all martyrs." The veteran stubbed out his cigarette and shouted sternly, "Commander Kate has ordered the Northern Army soldiers to launch a full-scale attack at dawn!"

……

"For the Duke!"

After a long and fierce battle, the war finally reached its climax.

It was a shout, a shout to the world, from all the soldiers fighting in the royal city. The shout pierced through the thick fog after the rain stopped, and the halo of slaughter formed a huge flash, which was then suddenly extinguished in the midst of the frantic run.

Countless man-eating locusts were smashed to pieces, countless arrows flew past, the Blood Hunters tore at armor, their blades splattering blood, and every moment countless warriors fell on their way to the charge.

The last dwarf soldier died at Lucas's feet, his blood drained from the numerous wounds all over his body; the battle nun, wearing a bird-beak mask and frantically wiping out man-eating locusts with viral mist, also attracted the special attention of the goddess army's mages and archers.

As the green air dissipated into the sunlight, Lucas realized that the Battle Sisters' forces had also been wiped out.

"Charge! Lucas, charge! Open up the path for the other companies!"

The veteran roared, brandishing his sword to point out a new direction for Lucas's attack, and then, without further ado, led the last seven men of his guard into the monster horde.

Their armor was stained with blood. After Lucas cut down two Blood Hunters, he turned around abruptly and saw the city walls right in front of him.

Wiping the blood clots off his visor, Lucas instantly understood the veteran's intention—to retake the city walls!

With his feet still treading on the still-burning flames, Lucas slashed out with his sword, creating an impenetrable, cold light. Charging at high speed, he clashed head-on with the Blood Hunter formation, tearing apart the man-eating locusts that had bitten into his shoulder blades with his bare hands. He then quickly overtook the veterans and others, using himself as the spearhead of the attack, and broke into the Southern Army's field of vision.

When two birds of a feather flock together, no words are needed. The god of death, Lucas, leaps forward and charges, sending countless fresh heads flying.

"If you run any slower, you'll become martyrs and still not win the battle!"

Lucas grabbed the old soldier who had collapsed in the mud from exhaustion, deflected the arrows with his sword, and was then struck by a heavy crossbow bolt that pierced his armor, exploding a large hole in his shoulder.

Blood gushed from his wound. Lucas gritted his teeth, ripped off his helmet, and dragged the veteran to a corner of the city wall. While dodging direct fire, he kept observing the surrounding battle environment.

The various units of the Northern Army had already surrounded the city. The gaping hole in the city wall was like a giant beast that devoured life, emitting a hellish echo. In this echo, Lucas heard the heavy breathing of the veterans.

The old soldier was crying, suppressing his sobs with his breathing, sounding like a water buffalo.

Lucas was equally distraught; of the entire guard, only the two of them remained…

"Give me another cigarette, young man."

Tears, already murky as they fell, flowed through the filth, forming deep furrows. Lucas, expressionless, patted himself all over and pulled two crumpled cigarettes from his trousers, lighting one for himself and the other for the old soldier, placing them in his mouth.

The veteran raised his trembling hand, a trickle of bright red blood seeping through his fingers. He seemed oblivious, gently inhaling and exhaling smoke.

Lucas slowly lowered his gaze and saw a gruesome wound on the veteran's chest.

Before anyone knew it, the veteran's mouth was covered in blood and foam. After he finished crying, he suddenly smiled, and his last words to Lucas were words of encouragement.

"Keep going bravely, young people, fight for us, for the Duke, for humanity..."