Chapter 72: The Price of Survival

Serol turned and departed, refusing King Fansetti’s suggestion of a celebratory banquet.

Like Guan Yu, who slew Hua Xiong after a cup of warm wine in a tale from another world, the fully prepared Cross Knight Order departed the capital that very night. Their destination was the nearest city held by the rebels.

Their advance was unstoppable.

Only when they truly clashed did Serol realize that this rebel force was far from a well-trained, coordinated regular army. In actual combat, their offensive tactics resembled child’s play, utterly incomparable to her own disciplined Knight Order.

They were like a child wielding a bomb in a tantrum. Yet, even a child’s bomb would not lose its inherent destructive power.

This left Serol even more perplexed about the true source of the rebel army’s strength.

They had indeed captured prisoners, but every rebel soldier taken alive would babble incoherently. “This is power granted by the gods!” they would cry. “My Lord protects us; our victory is inevitable!” Such was the nature of their ravings.

Serol soon understood. These individuals weren’t tight-lipped, refusing to speak; they genuinely believed these words.

These rebels were nothing short of a mob, indoctrinated with extremist ideologies and armed with weapons of mass destruction.

However, this did not hinder Serol from leading the Knight Order to repel the rebels’ rabid assaults.

The Cross Knight Order, relying on their disciplined coordination and genuine sacrifices, pushed the rebels back. This, of course, inevitably led to heavy casualties for the Knight Order.

By the time the battle for Kana City arrived, both the rebel army and the Knight Order were battered and bruised.

Both sides were at their limit, with only enough strength left for one final gamble. Thus, Kana City became the ultimate stage for this civil war.

Serol, however, was unafraid of sacrifice. This was the final battle. The rebels and the Cross Knight Order engaged in a fierce struggle within Kana City.

The slaughter continued from dawn until dusk, and from dusk until dawn again, until the sounds of battle within Kana City finally faded.

Greeting the rising sun, only Serol and the rebel leader remained alive within the ruined Lord’s Manor. The remaining corpses lay intimately intertwined on the blood-soaked ground.

The outcome was decided.

Both individuals bore fatal wounds. The rebel leader’s abdomen was drenched in blood, while a gruesome gash marred Serol’s chest.

At the very least, Serol could still stand, leaning on her sword.

She looked at the rebel leader, who knelt on the ground, and raised her sharp blade, asking her final question.

“Who, exactly, stands behind all of you?”

Upon hearing this question, the rebel leader laughed.

He raised his broken arm and began to rave wildly.

“There is no one behind us! Only my Lord! My Lord grants us the power to change the world!”

“Submit to my Lord now! You still have a chance to be forgiven!”

Serol stared intently into the leader’s eyes. There was no fear of death there, only madness.

‘So that’s how it is,’ Serol thought. ‘It seems nothing more can be gleaned from him.’

Unfortunately, Serol no longer had the strength to sever his head. Instead, her longsword shot forward, precisely piercing the leader’s heart.

This, at least, fulfilled the promise she had made in the royal palace.

Subsequently, Serol collapsed to the ground, joining the rebel leader.

Up to this point, what Serol had recounted differed little from the history Rona knew, save for Serol’s more detailed account.

However, even after hearing all this, Rona still couldn’t understand its connection to Serol’s current actions.

But Serol had ceased speaking. She sat there, clutching her head, seemingly troubled by a headache.

“Shut up! What I do is none of your business!”

Serol suddenly roared, as if arguing with someone unseen.

After gasping for breath, Serol calmed herself and looked up at Rona once more.

“I merely provided some necessary background. Now, let’s make a long story short.”

“After the civil war, I remained in Kana City for two months before returning to the capital. This wasn’t solely to handle residual matters.”

“I was gravely wounded in that final battle; I even believed I wouldn’t survive. Every night, lying in bed, I could feel the agony of life slipping away.”

“But I couldn’t die,” Serol’s eyes flickered with complex emotions. “The civil war had just ended, and the Fansetti Kingdom was plagued by internal strife and external threats. We could not afford another rebellion or opportunistic invasions from other nations.”

“If I died, the people’s morale would crumble. The Cross Knight Order, which had ended the civil war, would no longer be able to suppress those burgeoning ambitions.”

“So…” Serol took a deep breath. “I found a way, a way to survive.”

“By performing a ritualistic sacrifice with individuals who meet certain conditions, one can…”

Serol did not continue, but Rona had already grasped her meaning.

Rona’s eyes widened, seemingly unable to believe the truth she had just heard.

“So… you kidnapped people from the city to sacrifice them?”

Serol did not answer Rona’s question. Instead, she sat there, clutching her head.

“You cannot control me! What if I speak of it? This is my own deci—”

Another sudden roar. Serol’s current state even bordered on madness, making her utterly unrecognizable from the usual kind and approachable city lord.

Watching Serol lower her head, concealing her features, Rona even suspected that Serol might be suffering from a severe… mental illness.

She had never seen Serol like this before.

However, Serol soon stood up again, though Rona couldn’t shake the feeling that Serol’s gaze had changed.

It had become cold, making her feel like a stranger, as if she were a different person entirely.

“Yes,” Serol stated coldly. “That is precisely it.”

“Of course, I don’t fear death. But the Fansetti Kingdom at that time could not do without me. The post-civil war situation was chaotic, and someone was needed to stabilize the people’s hearts. Nothing more.”

“That’s why news of my injury barely spread at the time.”

Rona was stunned. Not just by the truth, but because she had never imagined that the respected Lady Serol would commit such an act.

To sacrifice others for one’s own preservation was a violation of the Cross family’s creed.

“But, but…”

Rona, bound to the rack, struggled violently. The collapse of her faith brought about intense emotional turmoil.

Rona had not yet managed to articulate her thoughts when she heard a ‘snap.’ The sensation of her right hand being bound, like a rubber band stretched taut and then torn, vanished completely.