Just as Herates had anticipated, the Baha Balm army arrived at the city gates two days later, at dawn.

Willis huddled inside the castle, too afraid to show his face.

His ministers had also hidden themselves. Among the civil officials, only Karl Sven stood atop the city walls, gazing at the Baha Balm forces standing ready for battle.

Their side boasted sixteen thousand troops—double the enemy’s eight thousand.

Yet Karl still felt immense pressure.

When armies numbered under one hundred thousand, generals held decisive power. Especially after learning of the two monstrously strong warriors in the Baha Balm ranks, Karl’s confidence wavered.

“Sir Karl…”

“Ah, Herates.”

“Do not worry. We will win.”

“Mm. We will win.”

On the battlefield, Karl’s value paled beside Herates. This war rested solely on Herates and a handful of warriors.

The battle wouldn’t last long. Beyond the hills lay vast plains before Stanki City.

Once fighting began on such terrain, casualties would flood away like a breached dam.

Before the Baha Balm army could act, Herates had already deployed over ten thousand troops to meet them.

Seven thousand archers stood ready on the walls. The moment the enemy entered range, arrows would rain down.

Stanki held the numbers advantage—seizing the initiative was crucial.

But the enemy made no mistakes. The Baha Balm forces halted just beyond archery range, facing Stanki City head-on.

Stanki’s walls were far better maintained than Windward Fortress’s. A direct assault would be near impossible.

Some might wonder: Couldn’t a monster like Barzak simply smash through walls?

Only if no defenders stood atop them.

This world had Inner Energy.

Though ordinary soldiers possessed mere traces of it, the combined Inner Energy of thousands gathered on the walls greatly fortified them. Against such reinforcement, not even Barzak could shatter the stone.

The same principle applied to ships or war chariots.

I stared at the impregnable fortress, utterly unmoved.

No matter its strength, I had no intention of besieging it.

Standard sieges relied on encirclement.

Rarely did situations mirror Leahdon’s assault on Windward Fortress—where overwhelming force allowed a direct attack.

Without such disparity, storming walls was near suicidal.

Besides, the enemy stood fully prepared. Their vanguard already formed up before us.

“Mentu. Fire one arrow. A challenge.”

“Understood!”

I didn’t specify a target. This shot was purely for morale—and perhaps to provoke a rash response.

The arrow flew true, piercing the enemy’s banner.

“They dare provoke us…”

Herates wasn’t some greenhorn. He wouldn’t take the bait.

But he couldn’t retaliate either—not without risking greater damage to his own troops’ morale. That archer across the field was a headache. A returned shot might be blocked, deepening their shame.

“Ford. Engage them.”

As commander, Herates couldn’t fight personally. Ford, far stronger than him, was the obvious choice.

“Orders received. I’ll bring back their heads.”

“Be cautious. They’re formidable.”

Not everyone could gauge an opponent’s strength like Chining.

Though the ambush proved Barzak’s power, his exact limits remained unknown. A warning was necessary. Caution first.

Ford drew courage from the ten thousand soldiers behind him. Boldness mattered—but so did prudence.

“Hah! Does any enemy general dare face me?”

“I’ll face you!”

Barzak bristled at the dismissive tone. He spurred his warhorse forward instantly.

“Come! I accept your challenge!”

“Hmph. I, Ford, do not slay nameless warriors.”

“I am Barzak! Remember that name!”

Barzak charged, his massive axe sweeping horizontally.

Beneath the spring sun, the blade radiated a chilling black glow that defied the season’s warmth—a hunger to devour flesh and bone.

Ford could only stare, frozen. He didn’t even raise his weapon.

In an instant, blood sprayed. To Ford, the sky seemed to bleed crimson.

Then he fell.

Silence swallowed the battlefield.

Then—thunderous cheers erupted from the Baha Balm ranks.

“Commander Herates! General Ford has fallen!”

“…Promote the deputy. Hold formation.”

This was where deputies proved their worth.

The general’s death caused no chaos. Morale dipped sharply, but discipline held.

Unlike the Windward Fortress battle.

Last time, Leahdon’s overconfidence had shattered his army the moment their leader fell.

Stanki’s soldiers stood rigid, unbroken.

“No more duels. We have no warriors who can last a single exchange.”

Stanki’s strongest was Ford—a B Rank Warrior cut down in one strike. That dark-skinned brute? At minimum A Rank. No… almost certainly S Rank.

Herates prepared for the worst: treating the enemy as an S Rank Warrior.

Victory now depended on the soldiers.

“Can we launch fire arrows?”

“Report: With our fire oil reserves, we can sustain volleys for hours.”

A young officer answered beside Herates.

“Not that long. Just harass their rear lines.”

Herates’s order unleashed fiery chaos upon us.

Barzak had crushed their morale, yet their ranks held. Casualties evened out. Then the fire arrows struck—not lethal, but searing skin. On a battlefield, a hair’s breadth decides life and death. The Baha Balm troops began losing ground.

But this wasn’t defeat.

Just as the Stanki forces pressed their advantage, a cavalry unit thundered toward the Baha Balm rear.