"You've got to be kidding me… That many monsters? How much would it cost to repair all this afterward?!"
Royman's face went paper-white, as if his eyes refused to accept what they were seeing.
By the time he took over as Guild Master, Orario was already the center of the world. And after he took the seat, the city's status wasn't going to climb any higher.
But that didn't mean he was useless. It didn't mean he'd done nothing.
If anything, he'd poured his soul into Orario—worked himself to the bone—until even his own kin among the elves spat at him for becoming a "merchant."
Royman cared about how others judged him. Being cursed by his own people hurt. It always did.
But he could swallow that.
What he couldn't swallow was this.
"Finn—think of something! I handed the Guild's entire budget over to you… Wait. Don't tell me you already knew this would happen."
His eyes snapped to Finn's face.
Finn was still calm.
No—worse.
Cold.
Royman knew every order Finn had issued over the past few days. If he traced those decisions backward from what they were seeing now… there was only one conclusion.
Finn had anticipated that the enemy could unleash a horde of monsters.
"You let them through the gates on purpose?! You're a monster!"
Royman jabbed a trembling finger at him, voice cracking.
Finn didn't even bother explaining. He simply watched as Orario was trampled.
"Stop pointing at me. Strategic command isn't something you get to meddle in."
"You—You…!"
Royman shook with rage.
When Finn had demanded supplies and funding, he hadn't worn that face.
If Royman had known Finn would do this… he would've—
He paused.
And in the span of a heartbeat, he forced down every ugly emotion.
Because Royman wasn't a fool.
Even if he'd known, he would still have handed everything over.
At this point, he had no other choice. He never did.
"Then I'll leave it to you. I'm only going to get in the way here."
Royman turned to go.
Not because he feared death—but because if he kept watching Orario get violated like this, he couldn't trust himself to stay rational.
To Royman, Orario wasn't just a city.
It was his lover.
What was happening now felt no different than being forced to watch his beloved defiled.
So he chose not to look.
He chose to hide—like a husband pretending to sleep through the nightmare.
"Report, Captain—ice walls are complete!"
"Keep scouting. Report anything new. Sid—come here."
Finn called Sid to his side and made him watch the deployment.
Once, Finn's own seniors had taught him the same way.
On the enemy side, the dark faction quickly grasped the shape of the field.
Or at least, the part visible on the surface.
"So… outside of the five shelters, there's no Orario force presence anywhere? No civilians in sight at all?"
Valletta's eyes widened as she studied the map of movement and the city's silhouette.
"Yes. Especially the first-class adventurers—more than half of them are missing."
As the report came in, Valletta herself confirmed it: at the heart of Orario, Babel Tower had been sealed behind a sudden ring of ice, blocking observation.
Were the strong ones hiding inside?
If she stormed that place directly, ignoring the other five shelters, she could be encircled.
But if she crushed the shelters first… was that another trap?
"Hahaha! The so-called hero… You're no different from me. We're the same kind of creature, Finn."
Valletta laughed—delighted.
From her vantage, the monsters she'd released were already being drawn by human presence, converging on the five shelters.
Whatever Finn's true structure was, one thing was obvious:
On the surface, the shelters had been turned into bait.
And according to reconnaissance, the defensive strength at each shelter wasn't overwhelming.
If she concentrated her attack, she could smash two shelters before Finn could even react.
Most civilians were packed into those shelters.
If she took two… Orario would instantly lose two-fifths of its people.
And that was just the opening move.
Finn was offering her an intoxicating temptation—so she would waste time chewing on it.
Dirty.
So dirty.
"Hitting you in the gut like this… Even I don't think I'm as cruel as you are."
Across the dark distance, Finn looked almost like he could hear her.
"Then what will you choose? Will you do exactly what I want?"
Valletta's eyes blazed.
"Fine. I'll do exactly what you want. Open the door and let Chaldo loose—send him straight at Babel Tower."
"…Yes!"
No one under her dared question it. The order was relayed immediately.
Even they felt it: sending one man to crash through the center sounded insane.
Valletta only sneered.
"They don't understand anything. A 'Conqueror' is insanity made flesh. And if I commit too many forces to Chaldo… do they think I have no one else left on my side?"
From the last major clash, it was already clear: even without counting the two Conquerors, the dark faction and Orario were roughly a six-to-four matchup.
With the Conquerors tying down the enemy's first-class adventurers, the dark faction held a decisive advantage.
To Valletta, Chaldo was never truly an ally.
They were using each other.
If she could harvest enough gains, she'd sell Chaldo without blinking.
"Finn, what's the point of all your schemes? Even if I move exactly the way you want, you're still staring at two roads that both lead to death."
Now Valletta understood something deeply:
The more humans obsess over calculations, the more easily they fall into traps they never imagined.
Only overwhelming power decides the outcome.
She had that power.
Two Conquerors.
Alfia would draw out Orario's strongest.
And the one left—Chaldo—would be a wall Finn could never climb.
Whether Finn gathered elites to face him now, or tried to deal with him after winning elsewhere, it would still be death.
Just a matter of choosing the order of execution.
"But this… is what separates us from the dark faction."
Finn turned his gaze to Sid—the successor he'd chosen.
He had turned the shelters into bait.
But he also believed that even as bait, the defenders would still fight with everything they had to protect the people inside.
Those defenders had accepted their roles.
They would pay in blood, sweat, and lives—just to buy Finn time.
The same was true for confronting Chaldo.
Even if the enemy was an unbeatable Conqueror… you still believed first.
You believed your comrades could win.
As the commander of Orario, Finn could be cold.
He could be ruthless.
But the purpose was to save more lives.
To claim this damned victory.
That was the difference between him and Valletta.
Finn never forgot one thing:
He was an adventurer too.
One of them.
A comrade.
"So this might be the last lesson I can teach you, Sid," Finn said quietly. "It isn't that a commander must be cold and unfeeling."
He looked Sid dead in the eyes.
"It's that you must trust your comrades."
In the dark, a figure in black armor stood and stared into the distance.
Chaldo.
This city carried too many of his memories.
Now it was broken in every direction, ruined as far as the eye could see.
And the truth was, Chaldo himself was "responsible" for more of this than anyone wanted to admit.
Would Orario meet total destruction?
Or would it be reborn in fire?
Even he didn't know.
All he could do was shove the story toward its ending.
In his heart, Chaldo said goodbye to the Orario he once knew.
He drew a long breath.
Then the Conqueror stepped into the battlefield.
"If you disappoint me again… then I'll end all of this with my own hands."
....
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