I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Chapter 790: The Great Campaign – 1

“Countless noble houses that once upheld this kingdom were erased because of that person’s obsession with a lifeless treasure.”

His breathing grew heavier.

Then his voice dropped,

“Have you forgotten? Your own wife was killed in that war—”

Before the Duke could even complete his sentence, a violent aura surged from the captain.

It first started as a simple wave, but then soon turned into an oppressive storm of hell. The blackish energy erupted outward like a living shadow, twisting and expanding with terrifying speed. The Duke’s senses tingled with immediate warning as the aura continued to increase, covering the whole clearing.

“He really has learned ‘that man’s’ energy,” the Duke whispered in disbelief.

Now that he was seeing it firsthand, there were no more doubts. This was what “that man” had wielded during the Great Campaign. This was what “that man” called the energy of death. The same power that had once nearly destroyed everything during the Great Campaign.

As the mana continued to rise, the area around the captain gradually turned horrifying. Trees that had stood for centuries withered in a single second, their trunks blackening and crumbling into fine dust before scattering on the wind. Leaves turned brittle and fell like ash. Flowers that had somehow survived the eternal darkness of the Forbidden Realm shriveled and disintegrated, their colors fading into nothingness.

Even the strange creatures of the forest were not spared. Their eyes bulged in terror, their bodies twisted violently as if invisible hands were crushing them from within, and their entire forms collapsed into pools of blackish sap that hissed and steamed on the ground.

It was as though their very life was being drained out of them in an instant.

The Duke stepped back instinctively and created a barrier with his mana. A shimmering golden dome formed around him, reinforced with every ounce of his Arch Mage power.

BAMMMM!!

The captain’s black aura struck the barrier like a tidal wave crashing against a cliff. Ripples formed violently across the surface and the golden light flickered and strained under the relentless assault. Cracks began to spiderweb across the dome as the cold energy devoured the protective layer.

SHRINGGG

The exchange continued for long, agonizing minutes.

Neither of them gained a clear edge.

Sweat beaded on the Duke’s forehead as he poured more power into his barrier. The golden light flared brighter, pushing the black tide back, but the captain’s aura was relentless.

Wherever the black mana touched the barrier, the golden light dimmed and withered.

The forest around them had become a wasteland in miniature. Trees lay toppled and rotting. The ground was scarred with black veins and golden scorch marks. The air reeked of death and burning mana. Creatures that had once hidden in the shadows now lay as dried husks or pools of black sludge, their lives stolen in seconds.

Upon seeing such horrifying sight, the Duke’s mind immediately flashed back to the time during the Great Campaign.

**

Fifteen years ago,

“Your Majesty… I ca—cannot feel my limbs.”

The Duke whispered those words as he looked at the man in front of him, clad in the royal armor of Hermes. The man himself was covered in blood and was currently kneeling as he stared at the weird creature before him.

That man was none other than the King of Hermes.

Behind the Duke were many other nobles. The Duke of the East, the Duke of Asgard, the Count of the Iron Peaks… everyone of utmost importance to the kingdom.

The war itself had been a secret war, briefed only to the higher nobles directly by the crown. There were no reasons given on why the war was to be fought, which had ultimately caused suspicions and doubt to bloom in the nobles of the country. But since it was the crown itself issuing the order, no one dared to raise a voice.

So they had silently took a few of the strongest members of their families and embarked on their way to the south. Their goals were unknown, their opponents unknown, and even their destination unknown.

But one thing that stood out was that the King of Hermes himself was leading the path. That alone was enough. Seeing their king march at the head of the column, every whisper of doubt died in the throats of his retainers.

Loyalty, it turned out, needed very little fuel to burn.

And that was when everything changed.

The Duke could still recall that day with horrible clarity. The southern plains stretched endlessly beneath a blood-red sky. The army of Valthor stood before them, their banners fluttering with symbols of eternity and life.

The battle that followed was brutal, merciless, and filled with horrors no man should ever have to witness.

It began as a clash between equals. The knights of Hermes, gleaming in polished armor and burning with loyalty, charged with everything they had. Their war cries tore across the open fields as they collided head-on with the forces of Valthor.

For the first few hours, neither side gave an inch. Swords rang against shields. Mana spells lit up the sky like falling stars, and the ground shuddered beneath thousands of boots and hooves. Heroes rose and fell on both sides, their names destined to be carried in ballads for generations to come.

But that balance didn’t last.

Valthor began to push them back.

Their courage was extraordinary. Their coordination was almost inhuman, as though every soldier moved as part of a single living organism rather than an army of individuals.

Most importantly, they had fire behind their eyes — a burning, relentless determination that made them fight like men who had already accepted death and chosen to defy it anyway.

They didn’t retreat. They didn’t falter.

When the knights of Hermes broke through their lines, the Valthor warriors reformed almost instantly. Their mana was purer too, far purer, charging every strike and every spell with a terrifying kind of power that the knights of Hermes simply couldn’t match.

The Duke never forgot how helpless he felt as his people began to fall.