CH966 · Rewrite
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Chapter 966: Operation Summit

Two weeks after the counterattack plan—codenamed “Operation Summit”—Roland received Lightning’s report from the front. The battalions of the First Army had completed the first step of the program and joined forces at “Forest No. 2+1.76” of the Misty Forest.

He had borrowed the naming convention from the railway’s mileage identification system: the first half indicated the planned sectional station, the second half the revised distance. The turning point lay 1.76 kilometers ahead of Station No. 2 of the Forest Railway. The advantage was that Roland could read the army’s position directly off the big map.

It was also the end of the current tracks. From here, the First Army would begin the second step—leave the Misty Forest and march northeast into the Barbarian Lands, beyond the cover Leaf could provide.

Whether they could destroy the demons’ outpost depended on that step.

Once the Longsong Cannons and machine guns were in position, the army could fall back on the tactics they had drilled from training and every prior engagement.

“Understood.” Roland made a mark on the map. “What about the demons? Any sign they’ve noticed?”

Lightning’s voice crackled through the Sigil of Listening. “Sylvie says no movement on their end. They’re still concentrating on their own outposts—several black stone pillars have gone up. The Adviser Department’s judgment is that the number of long-legged monsters is limited.”

Good news. Agatha had said it plainly: the only thing that had kept the demons from overrunning humanity was the Red Mist. If they had found a way around that constraint by the third Battle of Divine Will, it would spell catastrophe. The mobility of the flying Devilbeasts and the raw fighting capacity of the Senior Demons would make the long border of the four kingdoms indefensible.

Roland had already learned that the stone pillars at the outpost differed from the legendary Blackstone Pagoda, though they shared common ancestry. The pillars could only store Red Mist and release it slowly to form a fighting environment—enhancing the demons’ strength and self-healing within that zone. In short, they assisted in battle, not in survival.

A stone pillar could double the Red Mist’s effect, but only by drawing down its own reserves. The original Blackstone Pagoda actually generated Red Mist and covered a far wider area; it formed the core of the demons’ main cities. The pillar, by contrast, could not begin functioning the moment it was planted. It needed roughly a month of cultivation before it could release Red Mist at capacity. Until then, it was little more than an oversized canister.

Sylvie’s observations sharpened his confidence. No one wanted to chase an enemy off only to watch them return days later with reinforcements. At the current rate of construction, the First Army should be able to hit any new outpost before the stone pillars reached full capacity.

“Keep scouting and report anything new. Safety is still the first priority.”

“Roger that. Lightning out.”

The Sigil went dark.

Roland picked up a ruler and measured the distance on the map. Six days—that was when the First Army would cross into the demons’ reconnaissance perimeter, by the beginning of late autumn.

Even for soldiers accustomed to open ground, it would be a hard march.

“Why the worried look?” Nightingale set the Sigil down and studied him. “The new weapons tested well.”

“That was a test. No one knows what happens in a real battle before it starts.” He shrugged. “And Sylvie will be occupied in the air, so the First Army has to hold the defensive line on their own.”

“Andrea can consistently hit a balloon at five kilometers. She won’t let anyone down.” Nightingale smiled. “And Sylvie won’t be the only set of eyes—Lightning and Maggie are still there. The First Army has handled worse.”

Roland raised an eyebrow. “When did you learn to comfort people?”

“I’m just being honest.” She whistled. “Though I’m also persuasive when I need to be. Every noble I ever visited ended up agreeing with me.”

That’s because you were standing in their blind spot with a knife.

“Ahem. You have a point.” He twitched his lips. “I’m going to take a nap in the office. Don’t wake me unless it’s urgent.”

Nightingale’s expression sharpened slightly. “Here? Should I tell the Taquila witches?”

“No. Don’t let them near the castle at all.”

“Understood.” She nodded once. “I’ll make sure no one wanders into the range of the light beam.”


Roland rarely napped—only when he was exhausted, or when he had a particular reason.

This was the latter.

A month had passed since his last conversation with Garcia in the Dream World. She had returned from Headquarters and promised to bring back a book written half a century ago—the first text to mention the Battle of Divine Will. He had decided, after some deliberation, not to tell the Taquila survivors about it yet. Whatever the book contained, he could probably remain steady. The witches who had built their entire existence around the concept of Divine Will might not be able to say the same, not with a battle already on the horizon.

Entering the Dream World was effortless now—less like sleep and more like throwing a switch. A moment’s concentration, and he was under.

After Zero left for school, Roland reached for the phone.

“Hey. Did you get the book?”

“If I said no, would you be so disappointed you’d throw the phone?” Garcia’s sarcasm arrived before her voice had even settled. “Relax. You reminded me three days ago. I’m not so forgetful that I’d go back on my word—unlike a certain someone.”

“I won’t throw it. I still need to feed my family.”

“Feed your family? Isn’t a martialist’s salary enough? Have you gone down the wrong path?”

“What are you imagining?” I’m trying to feed a group of people who haven’t eaten for hundreds of years. “I have to say, even as acquaintances—”

“Now you’re going to accuse me of slander? It’s a new era. Stop using that cliché.” She cut him off.

Roland almost choked. Being mocked for clichés by a woman from the Middle Ages was its own particular indignity.

“All right. Where’s the book?”

“My apartment. Come and get it.”

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