A Village Appeared on My Desktop

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Chapter 209 – Rebellion (9)

“Time is too short. We need more time to gather the units…”

“Their advance is too fast. If we give them this place too, more than half of our territory will be ravaged by them.”

Commander Merte shook his head at the concerns of his subordinates while hurriedly gathering troops.

He too wanted to fight in perfect condition, but the reality was urgent and there were not many options left for them.

“Support troops are on the move, but if you think this is all we can muster, then you’re mistaken. Now, tell me how we are going to stop them.”

With all command authority, Count Merte gathered the commanders around him and demanded a plan to stop the Arin Tribe.

The gathered commanders began to stir, glancing at one another nervously.

“Your Excellency, we must maximize our advantages. While we hold off their main force, we must cut off their supply lines from the rear or seize their rear bases. Even showing such movements will rally the people loathing them.”

“Ha, you must have forgotten where you are. To those who’ve grown accustomed to carrying all their food and replenishing locally, supply lines mean nothing. And support? The occupied areas are eerily silent. They’re not pillaging or misbehaving at all.”

Someone suggested that they should cooperate with other units for a strategy, but that suggestion was promptly refuted by another.

Then, a person who had hurriedly arrived from the south, having missed the recent news, blinked in surprise at the claim that the Arin Tribe wasn’t looting.

“W-what? Are you saying that barbarians aren’t looting and raping? Then why are they invading?”

He chuckled in disbelief. Those who knew exchanged frowns or sighed at his naivety.

“They dare to insult His Majesty the Emperor.”

It was Count Merte who finally spoke. Everyone tensed at the words from the commander.

It had long been rumored that the Arin Tribe had allied themselves with the dreadful monsters that devour people, and they declared they would overthrow the Emperor to stop it.

“Such lunatics…”

“That’s a heinous crime!”

Naturally, many erupted in anger. It was an instinctive reaction, like squinting from sudden brightness. The imperial presence meant everything to them.

‘It’s absurd. Among many justifications, why pick that one?’

While others poured out their wrath, Merte observed in silence, lost in thought.

The Arin Tribe’s actions, completely forbidding pillaging and charging headlong ahead with steadfastness, were certainly sincere.

However, from the perspective of those who couldn’t believe—no, who simply couldn’t trust—their stated reasons seemed utterly preposterous.

“In any case, it doesn’t matter what they say right now. Let’s focus on figuring out how to stop them.”

Merte seized control of the murmuring atmosphere and shifted the topic. The war had already begun and combat was unavoidable, so discussing justifications at this point was irrelevant.

“They approach with nearly 100,000 cavalry. Some have remained in the rear, but it’s still an overwhelming number of mounted troops.”

“…Do you think we can stop them?”

The first consideration that arose was their numbers. 100,000 cavalry—an immense figure that even the Empire could not easily mobilize—cast a heavy silence.

They weren’t just any cavalry; they were the feared horsemen of the grasslands.

“If we mobilize all our means, we can prevent being annihilated as they intend. Magic, gunpowder, traps—all of it.”

That was a hopeful outlook—that they might not be overrun and could endure to a contest. Hearing that, Merte crossed his arms, frowning.

“Reports say they are not just a rabble of barbarians. Some are demons blessed by the Evil God.”

“Your Excellency, that grand magic…”

“Respond, mages. Is there a way to overcome this colossal grand magic that covers the sky? I know that the wild horsemen of the grasslands use some crude shamanistic spells, but I’ve never heard of them wielding high-level magic that could decimate our forces in an instant.”

The first secret weapon the Arin Tribe was harboring, which the mages dreaded, was the grand magic invoked by a select few mages. The Empire’s wizards were left speechless at the thought of overcoming it.

If there was any practical way, they would have rushed to uncover the secret immediately.

“Not just magic. Their armor even possesses weak anti-magic properties, providing considerable resistance.”

“Moreover, they have potions that instantly dispel fatigue and restore stamina, keeping both horses and men in peak condition even after a full day’s march.”

The achievements the Arin Tribe built while struggling with bugs were one after another so shocking that they left the others feeling smaller and more defeated every time someone spoke up.

“The biggest problem is the witch of the Evil God whom they call the Saintess.”

That was the final nail in the coffin—the mention of Riena.

Riena was already making a name for herself on the battlefield.

Charging to the frontlines and crushing resistance, she would heal from any injury in the blink of an eye and resume fighting, making her a beacon of hope for her allies, while for her opponents, “witch” barely scratched the surface of her dread.

“If we cannot stop that witch, then even if every other plan succeeds, victory will be hard to guarantee.”

“Is that so?”

“She is an existence that has already surpassed the realm. I know because I’ve seen it myself.”

One of the generals broke into a cold sweat at the memory of that day.

Where his carefully prepared defenses were obliterated by the few forces Riena led. Fortunately, he escaped without capture, but the image of Riena approaching through his traps, bleeding and unbothered, felt like facing a terror incarnate.

“Is there anyone who would step forward to stop that witch?”

Merte glanced around after asking that question. The place fell eerily silent. No matter how much they insulted Riena as a witch or barbarian, there was not a single knight brave enough to face her.

“I figured as much.”

Merte let out a small chuckle, as if not expecting anyone to step up. Even if someone did, he’d likely try to stop them.

Once, there had been many formidable figures among the Empire, renowned across the continent, but under the peace nurtured by the Empire’s order, most of those strong figures had vanished from sight.

‘Yes, it has been too peaceful for too long.’

The warriors of the grasslands remained strong because they continued to battle among themselves; Merte sensed that unless the knights of the Empire, which had become mere shadows of their former selves, awakened from this stupor, they would not stand a chance against them.

*

“I never imagined the imperial family would seek me out again.”

“Your mercy is noted.”

That night, Merte secretly met someone in the corner of a tent. A tent being heavily monitored, making it not easily accessible to anyone.

The person Merte met there was a middle-aged man with a muscular build, but surprisingly, he was thoroughly bound with chains and restraints.

“The witch of the barbarian tribe who claims to be the strongest on the continent is coming here.”

Merte skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point, adding a little fabrication to influence the man in front of him.

“There has to be a strong presence. Are you going to leave it vacant?”

“When the tiger is gone, the fox can be king. But are you going to leave the fox to think it’s still king now that the tiger has returned?”

Merte shrugged at the man’s scoffing remark. From a mere commoner to a relative of the imperial family, it was all a result of his own strength.

He had made a name as the strongest man decades ago, yet after getting embroiled in a power struggle, he had been forced into retirement. No Emperor ever had the resolve to eliminate him, but neither could they free him.

If he were to lash out seeking vengeance, no one could handle those repercussions.

However, the current Emperor, Rihir, who had merged with the bugs, boldly decided to awaken and employ him.

“He promised to pardon you if you were to achieve merits. Those are the Emperor’s words—your choice, and your fate.”

“You’re quite audacious. I’d like to see him in person.”

With a sly smile, he nodded.

‘I’m not interested in some pardon. I want to see the face of that witch who is said to be blessed by the Evil God.’

His greatest curiosity was centered around Riena. Always seeking the undeniably strong, it was only natural.

And it remained so. He sensed that Merte was telling lies to manipulate him, but since the tales of Riena weren’t entirely false, it was valuable enough.

“The witch is racing here with the barbarian force. She will arrive in just two days, so make sure to set her free then.”

Having confirmed the man’s intent, Merte exited the tent. His expression was not particularly bright.

‘Is this really necessary? Or why did this all happen in the first place?’

Loyalty and curiosity are distinct.

While pondering why this matter had escalated so much so suddenly, Merte let out a small sigh.

The start of all this was the sudden appearance of the Land of the Elves.

Since that place revealed itself to the world, Rihir had become increasingly radical, and wars erupted one after another across the continent in rebellion against the Empire’s established order.

‘Is he planning to keep acting in the shadows till the end?’

Even those keeping tabs on Rihir weren’t just Merte.

The semi-gods they called Evil Gods also kept a watchful eye, displaying screens in the imperial capital and monitoring intently.

Having confirmed that the imperial high command was moving at the whims of the parasite and that war had begun, they intended to strike swiftly once there was any opening.

“Ha.”

Yet Rihir had been appearing less and less to the public, as if he knew everything.

He mostly stayed indoors or confined himself, avoiding public appearances. With a heavy sigh, he shifted his gaze.

Even if Rihir were to be taken down, it was clear he would plant parasites in the hands of others in power.

A village appeared on my desktop. 210th chapter.