The main mission of the Krasilov Cleanup Unit was, of course, focused on assassinating high-value targets of the demon army and infiltrating the enemy’s rear.
Therefore, unlike so-called ‘elite troops’ from other countries, the Cleanup Unit had to operate spread across a wide battlefield. The demon army was literally pouring in from all directions, and there were far too many beings worthy of being called high-value targets.
However, as always, Krasilov was never a ‘reliable ally’ or ‘trustworthy neighboring country.’ Their nature was conquest.
As a result, every member of the Cleanup Unit was a highly boastful force. They needed to hint at Krasilov’s power to the allied forces.
At no moment could anyone dare to threaten the national identity of Krasilov, even if peace were to come. They were forced to be brutal, bold, stealthy, and deadly.
They were those who knew the personal details and characteristics of all the leaders of the allied countries and showcased that they could assassinate them at any moment.
In fact, nobles suspected of rebellion in the military camp where Cleanup Unit members were stationed were often found dead in their barracks before their charges could be proven. This was certainly not a rare occurrence.
Therefore, all national leaders were aware of the Krasilov Cleanup Unit and often pressured the Krasilov royal family regarding these agents.
Alexander’s attempt to dismantle the Cleanup Unit was not merely for the purpose of containing Elizaveta. When royal authority was unstable, he could use the excuse of restoring trust in the royal family to gain an upper hand in succession disputes.
On the other hand, the reason Elizaveta was unable to gain the upper hand, even though she controlled Counterintelligence Command, was the same. There were no allied rulers to support a royal family member who had formerly been a commander in the Cleanup Unit. Moreover, Alexander had even secured diplomatic dominance.
So, in conclusion, it could be said that no one among those who belonged to the ‘state heads’ or noble class during the Great War was unaware of the Cleanup Unit. Especially in Drovian, which revered strength.
All of Drovian’s warlords, known for their aggressiveness, were targets of the Cleanup Unit. It was a time when anyone could invade Krasilov’s borders at any moment.
“Do you dare to ask me about loyalty?”
Bjorn’s jaw bulged. His anger was evident, the joint of his teeth prominently displayed as he chewed in fury.
The anger towards the current situation overshadowed the fear of the man before him. With a stuttering voice, he said.
“What was the price of loyalty? A wasteland where not a single blade of grass grows in any season? Arable land so soaked in seawater it could not be tilled? A treacherous fjord where not even a single ship could set sail? I was cast upon it, reduced to nothing more than a lighthouse keeper watching the invasions of the demon army!”
“Bjorn, you dare to speak of loyalty?”
Ivan glanced at the furious Bjorn and shook his head. He scanned the surrounding warlords before speaking again.
“Do you really think I, we, didn’t know? What did you do when Einar killed the Demon King? Why did Einar start massacring as soon as he returned to his homeland?”
Unlike other Hero Parties, Einar had to bring his entire family to the military camp during that perilous time of crossing the Demon Realm.
He was aware that at any moment, his family could be taken hostage. He could not leave his family behind in his homeland, even if that meant risking them being thrown before the eyes of the demon army.
But there were limits to that as well. Eventually, the moment came when the allied military camp could not follow the Hero Party. It was when the Hero Party was advancing into the deepest part of the Demon Realm, toward the Demon King’s palace.
Ordinary infantry could not dare to set foot in that area, fiercely protected by the demon army with their lives. At that time, the military camp had to withdraw to another front to divert the demons’ attention.
And at that time, Einar’s family was also returned to their homeland. Since the Huscal warriors who had fought alongside Einar volunteered to escort them, the allied nations did not stop them.
And as soon as half of those Huscal set foot on their homeland, they betrayed him. Originally, Huscal were the ‘best warriors’ selected from each clan, a group composed of the future clan leaders and heirs of warlords.
As the war was nearing its end, they returned to their clans and families to explain the terror of Einar. The butcher, the one the demons feared the most, was returning.
During the long expedition, they had often boasted that when they returned to their homeland, they would unify Drovian.
The era of warlords was now over, and Einar would show no mercy.
Einar’s parents and children were captured that day, and only the Huscal who did not betray Einar barely managed to escape with the young Ecdysis.
Ivan was aware of these facts. Even if the external intelligence network of the Cleanup Unit were in disarray, he could not have been unaware of such information. It was far too famous and fierce.
It was turmoil in the neighboring country that maintained, in terms of military power, the strongest infantry within the United Kingdom. It could not have gone unnoticed.
However, at that time, he was unable to offer any help. The Cleanup Unit was in the process of dismantlement, and by the time the Demon King was killed, he was part of the Abiditas assassination squad.
When he finally returned, all the events had concluded.
Drovian had been unified. Half of the warlords had died hanging on stakes, their ribs exposed. The surviving warlords became subjugated to Einar, and Einar’s nickname had become ‘the butcher.’
When the warrior who had fought against the gods for the survival of humanity returned to his country, realizing that the nobility of the nation he wished to protect had killed his family, what must his feelings have been?
Ivan was prepared not to be surprised by whatever Einar had become, even if he had gone mad in regret and anger.
However, when he reunited with Einar, that great king laughed just as he always had and called him brother.
Before his eyes stood a man betrayed, having lost his parents and wife, speaking in such a calm tone with a cheerful expression. There was only one exception.
An aura that could tear one’s soul apart just by being looked at.
Einar had not forgotten. He had not forgotten his hatred and anger, nor his forgiveness. He had simply chosen to hide it. Hatred would never aid a king.
As a king who had to maintain a nation by his mere existence, he had the duty to not divide Drovian.
So, he had suppressed it. He disguised that daily, living fury with cunning. If no warriors like himself were born again in the divided nation, Drovian would have to endure an age of struggle for the hundreds of years to come, just like in the past.
The steam train traveled the rails, and the battlefield arrived where artillery overwhelmed the superhumans. In such a situation, the divided Drovian crumbled in the timescape, and the citizens of this desolate land, where only wasteland existed, would die in endless hunger.
Thus, beneath the surface of the clever warrior king, he swallowed the hatred of a butcher. With a hearty laugh, he wiped away the blood flowing from his eyes. He sent his only remaining daughter abroad, hoping she would learn more knowledge, understand a wider world, and build stronger connections.
Yet, those who betrayed him, the ‘warlords.’ The four warlords of the northern territories dared to speak of loyalty.
“As soon as Einar’s victory was known, it was you who attacked Einar’s clan? You, who declared war under the pretext that the Demon King’s death ended the non-aggression pact?”
“If that hadn’t been the case!!”
Bjorn shouted loudly, stepping forward.
“Would we have had a future? You, Westerners! Do you even know the desolation at the end of this Eastern land? In a country where even livestock die of starvation, do you know what remains for us who are cornered at the end of wasteland under the guise of a peace treaty other than death?”
“Are you lecturing me about hunger and poverty? My parents were serfs. My father was taken to the front lines when I was four, and before I turned fourteen, I became a child soldier and went to the frontline! My mother died freezing, scratching at the frozen fields of Krasilov with a broken hoe!”
Ivan sent all the money he had earned to his mother in his homeland. Although he had no love for his parents when he was possessed at that time, he still did so.
During the early days of being possessed, when he was crawling around, his parents were good people who would never let their son starve even if they themselves did.
When the death notice of his biological father arrived, the weeping mother went back to the fields the very next day. Even in sorrow and despair, she tried to feed her child.
How dare they discuss cold and hunger with a Krasilov person?
Ivan looked at the face of the warlord. The excessive muscles for his age proved that his nutritional status was not poor. The physique of the warriors lined up behind him was the same.
