The vanguard of the rebels advanced, leading with the undead.

Leading them was Venderwood.

Since both the undead and Venderwood could recover even after taking damage, they were organized as the vanguard.

As Venderwood advanced, he gradually began to see the canyon coming into view.

Venderwood glanced at it indifferently.

"We must break through here."

Both the rebels and the Academy thought the same.

At this time, whether or not the canyon could be penetrated would significantly influence the outcome.

Both camps were aware of this and had formulated their strategies.

"Advance!!"

Venderwood commanded the undead loudly.

It was then.

"Hm?"

A strong light leaked from afar.

And then.

Before Venderwood could even react to the light, it pierced through the rebel side.

Kwaaaaang!!!

The light struck precisely the middle of the undead legion, turning the undead there into dust.

Venderwood muttered to himself as he saw the vanished undead.

"A flash magic spell......"

Since he had already predicted some degree of response from the Academy, there was no reason to panic.

Venderwood looked at the situation with cold indifference.

After all, what was lost were the undead.

They knew no fear.

Even if those beside him melted away, they could still advance, and from the rebels' perspective, the loss of undead was preferable.

The main force of the rebels was not the undead but the human soldiers behind them.

Those united by hatred for the Empire.

They were a strong unit with a clear motivation, having experienced many victories on the outskirts of the Empire.

Although they were not well-trained soldiers, their extensive combat experience meant they were no less capable than the Empire's soldiers.

So, the loss of these undead was not a fear.

They would advance despite the losses.

Venderwood drew his sword and shouted once more.

"Advance!!"

And the one who shouted himself also charged forward.

Since no soldiers were visible in front of the canyon, there would only be one or two Wizards.

If he could rush out and block them, the undead could enter the canyon.

Fzzzt

A strong spark was seen in the distance.

A woman with silver hair.

It was Gracie.

"Lightning Strike."

Gracie used magic against the approaching Venderwood.

Lightning flew towards Venderwood, but he did not dodge.

He simply raised his arm to block it.

Kwajijik!

Gracie's lightning struck Venderwood squarely.

However, it did not stop Venderwood's movement.

Venderwood's ability was self-healing.

Gracie's lightning blasted his arm off, but his ability regrew it.

"What is that......"

Gracie looked incredulously at Venderwood, who was recklessly charging at her even as his arm was blown off.

It was an unbelievable situation, but Gracie couldn't just stand by idly.

Gracie reached out to the sky.

"Thundercloud."

As Gracie chanted the incantation, the clouds began to slowly move.

The clear sky now bore clouds moving as if a giant dragon was stirring, forming a majestic cluster.

With the clouds gathered, Gracie waved her hand.

"Strike down."

Along with her words, Gracie lowered her hand.

Sparks flew from the gathered clouds, and lightning struck towards Venderwood.

Boom!

It wasn't just once.

Dozens of lightning bolts targeted Venderwood.

"Ugh..."

Venderwood moved quickly upon seeing the lightning.

Even though he could recover from the lightning, there was a limit to his healing.

There was no good reason to willingly take the hits.

But he couldn't dodge every attack.

The speed of the falling lightning was too fast for him to see and react.

So, he took the minimum number of hits while advancing forward.

Gracie was astonished at the sight.

"How can such a creature exist..."

Venderwood was struck by lightning several times.

His arm was blown off, and his body melted away to reveal his ribs.

Yet, he did not die.

He showed no fear.

It felt like facing an undead.

"Gracie. Step aside."

At that moment, McDowell Cliver, who was behind Gracie, stepped forward and moved his mana.

A strong light emanated from McDowell's hand.

The light targeted Venderwood precisely.

"Ugh!"

Venderwood stopped in his tracks upon seeing it.

That attack looked dangerous.

Venderwood filled his feet with mana to change direction.

And he lifted the sword he was carrying on his back.

A greatsword as large as a human.

Venderwood filled this massive sword with mana and swung it towards the direction of the incoming light.

Kwaaaaaaang!

After seeing the explosion, McDowell turned his head.

"Gracie."

"...Ah, yes, Principal."

"I'll block the movement of the undead army. Can you handle that fellow?"

It was time to block the movement of the undead legion.

The old McDowell might have considered facing both the legion and Venderwood at once.

But the current McDowell couldn't do that.

McDowell was missing his right arm.

Due to an incident where it was cut off by Aryandor, he still couldn't exert his original abilities.

"You don't have to defeat him. Just blocking his movement will suffice."

At McDowell's words, Gracie nodded as if she had made up her mind.

"...I'll try."

"If anything happens, I'll come to assist immediately." "Understood."

After hearing Gracie's response, McDowell walked towards the undead legion, and Gracie looked towards Venderwood.

The place where Venderwood was had black smoke rising from the explosion, and he walked out from within that smoke.

McDowell's magic was potent; the wounds on Venderwood's body hadn't fully healed.

"The stronger the power, the slower the healing..."

Gracie noted that information as she glared at him.

Venderwood briefly met Gracie's gaze before looking around.

"You're alone."

"...I can stop you by myself."

"Do you really think so?"

Venderwood lifted his greatsword.

"If you don't want to die, move aside."

Instead of a word of refusal, Gracie prepared her mana for an attack.

Venderwood gave a murderous smile and spoke.

"Then you'll have to die."

Venderwood charged at Gracie with his greatsword, and Gracie surrounded her hand with electricity and stretched it towards Venderwood.

'Pierce through.'

'Block it.'

With those conflicting thoughts, their attacks collided.

"It has begun."

Daemon, leading the rebel's main force, judged the situation from the explosion he saw in the distance.

'This battle needs to be quick to be advantageous.'

He knew that the Royal forces were dealing with rebellions elsewhere.

The movement of the main force was preempted by activities in other areas, forcing Ian's hand.

But not all forces were diverted there.

More than half were with Astina, stationed nearby.

Even so, the current situation favored the rebels.

The undead moved faster than regular humans, preventing the enemy from reacting freely.

The rebels planned to use this advantage to gain the upper hand.

However, the moment the situation drags on, it becomes disadvantageous for the rebels.

Once Ian manages to quell the outer rebellions, he'll surely move here.

And if the Royal forces and Astina arrive, it'll undoubtedly become a tough fight for the rebels.

Daemon looked at Aryandor in front of him.

He wondered what Aryandor's plan was for orchestrating such a strategy.

'It's not like he has a special trick up his sleeve.'

As the war drags on without engaging, the rebels are increasingly at a disadvantage.

The Empire was uniting against the common enemy of the rebels, while the rebels faced issues with supplies and cohesion.

Thus, launching a total war at this opportunity was better.

At least then, there would be a chance for victory.

At that moment, Aryandor looked back.

"Daemon."

"Yes, Aryandor."

"Speed up the movement of our forces."

"Speed it up?"

It wasn't impossible.

But it wasn't a good method either.

Behind Daemon were human forces, different from the undead.

They had physical limits and emotions.

Without proper food provision, increasing the marching speed would surely lower the morale of the troops.

Moreover, an army exhausted from forced marches could not be expected to fight properly.

It would have been a better decision for Aryandor or Daemon to move and support Venderwood's undead legion rather than speeding up the army's movement.

"Move at an unpredictable speed to catch them off guard."

Daemon did not respond to Aryandor's suggestion.

"Daemon?"

Prompted by Aryandor, Daemon finally spoke.

"That seems difficult."

Daemon had never objected to Aryandor's commands before.

It was because of his trust in Aryandor.

However, Aryandor now seemed to have lost that trust.

"Are you refusing my order?"

"If you provide a valid reason, I will follow. But I cannot do so without any reason."

Aryandor, after a moment of silence, spoke.

"Do you think our forces can defeat the Royal and Academy forces?"

"What are you saying?"

"Do you think the current rebels, including us, can win this war against those on the other side? Against Ian Astria, Rudy Astria, Cromwell, and others who have made a name for themselves in the Empire?"

Daemon looked at Aryandor incredulously.

"Isn't it our job to make them win? To increase our chances of victory even by a little, to strategize and make our soldiers win, isn't that what a commander is for?"

"Our role is to win this war, yes. But winning this war doesn't necessarily mean we have to use the soldiers."

Daemon furrowed his brows.

"What are you saying?"

"Even if we lose the frontal battle, we can still win the war."

"What are you planning?"

"What do you think our goal is?"

"To change the Empire. Do you share the same thought, Aryandor?"

Aryandor nodded.

"Yes, to change the Empire. I think the same. To completely, utterly change the Empire itself."

A shiver ran down Daemon's spine.

It was because of the madness lurking in Aryandor's eyes as he spoke.

"What are you intending to do?"

"Do I need to spell it out? Haven't we always agreed that if there's a goal, the means don't matter?"

""

There was no rebuttal.

Everyone had agreed to this.

That it was acceptable to use someone's life for a goal.

Even those not present had agreed to this fact.

"Understood. I will follow your will."

Daemon silently turned and shouted orders to the troops behind him.

"Increase the speed of our movement!"

"Yes, that's a good decision."

Aryandor smiled and patted Daemon on the shoulder.