Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

Chapter 479: Final Push [II]

The Ivory forces attacked in the dead of night as soon as the Sectors’ barriers dropped.

The war cry of two hundred-something Cadets was deafening in the midnight quiet. Every single one of them dove into the Great Divide with wild abandon.

It was their final push, desperate and pitiful.

They were charging in a tight V-formation.

Their aim was to punch a hole through our frontline defenses and march straight through the marshlands directly to my throne room.

Obviously, they were going to fail.

I still had a hundred more Cadets than my sister.

I would tear open their flanks once they pushed into my front line, trapping them in a classic double-envelopment like Hannibal at Cannae.

It was a textbook setup.

My Casters had already pre-targeted the chokepoints along the central marshlands, waiting for the signal to rain fire and lightning down on their heads.

Standing on the roof of the Ebony Castle, resting my hands on the damp parapet, I took a long draw of the cool night air.

This war should be over in… what, twenty minutes? Thirty? Forty at most. It was going to be a sweeping victory for me. Minimal casualties and dominant field presence.

A bloody masterpiece of tactical warfare.

I felt so… content. So giddy and excited.

I hated my sister. It wasn’t a secret. Looking back at it, my resentment for her began when my father started favoring her instead of me.

The day she was named heiress was the day the rift between us became an unbridgeable chasm.

But my problem with her ran deeper than that.

You see, I resented her because she really was better than me. She was better than me in games and politics, in strategy and logistics, in combat and talent.

The only quality of rulership she lacked was the same one that my father had in abundance. She was not a good leader.

She tried to be callous like him, but that only made her exploitable.

Yet, it still didn’t change the fact that she was born for the throne, while I was born to chase it.

No matter how hard I worked, no matter how many fights I fought, there was always this gap between us.

Thalia never had to prove she belonged because everyone simply knew she did. They expected her.

She walked into a room, and people looked at her. She spoke, and people listened.

But I was ridiculed and sidelined. Talentless, they called me. Fool, they made me. The disgrace of the Golden Lineage.

So when I finally beat my sister all those months ago on this very island, I thought I would feel good. I thought the bitter pit in my chest would finally fill up.

It didn’t.

Winning hadn’t proven I was better than her, even though I knew I was. It had only proven that I could cheat a little harder and scheme a little dirtier.

Besides, during the Team Test she had the upper hand. She could’ve crushed the Essence Stone and made me lose with her.

The only reason she didn’t do it was because she wanted to fight me.

That wasn’t a real victory.

That’s why, today, I wanted a real victory.

Unquestionable victory.

I wanted to crush her in everything — strategy, warfare, combat. Everything.

Down below, in the far distance, the first waves of Ivory Cadets crossed the riverbank. Torches flared in the night, and spells flickered to life in the hands of their Casters.

“This is obviously a trap,” Juliana huffed beside me.

I turned to look at her side profile.

She was leaning against the stone battlements, her alabaster skin bathed in the pale glow of the moonlight.

Her bewitching blue eyes were fixed on the advancing line of torches, entirely devoid of the excitement that was currently humming through my own veins.

“Of course it’s a trap,” I replied, gazing back ahead. “An idiot could see that.”

It was similar to what Thalia had already done.

By sending her entire army straight down the middle, she was forcing me to concentrate my forces in the center of the map.

Her plan was probably to then sneak a small retinue around our flanks and storm the Castle, coming straight for my head.

I spun on my heel and started heading downstairs. Juliana followed closely behind.

“Join the front line,” I told her as we walked into the throne room. “Go to the right flank. And if you spot my sister, let her through. She’s mine.”

“Sure,” Juliana seemed a bit hesitant. “But someone should be here to protect you.”

“You honestly think I need protection? From my sister and her clique of clowns? I’ve killed a god. I think I can manage.”

Juliana kept staring at me, unimpressed.

I sighed. “Sylvia is stationed outside with twenty Cadets. Even if Thalia uses the tributaries to go around the front line, she’ll have to fight through some of our best Casters and Sentries. Well, technically, I’ll be fighting her. They’ll stand by just in case. Plus, Terry is here. You’ll protect me, won’t you, my king?”

At the mention of his name, the round boy sitting near the base of the obsidian throne turned his head. “Ahh— yes, of course! I may not look like it, but I’m a damn good fighter, Lord Samael.”

“Wow. Trust the new guy to protect you, but not your best Brawler,” Alexia murmured. The blind girl was draped across the grand throne like a bored queen, swinging her legs over one armrest while resting her head against the other. “I’m deeply hurt. Heartbroken, even.”

“You have one functioning arm,” I pointed out, gesturing at her sling. “And that necrotic debuff is clearly affecting you.”

“If you think I need two hands to crack skulls, do you even know me? Come fight me! I’ll beat your ass even in this state! Come on!”

“…No.”

“Why, you scared?”

Yes. I was.

Thankfully, Juliana interrupted to save my dignity. “He’s not scared,” she said to her. “And you should preserve your strength for when you actually need it to protect the crown.”

My Shadow then looked at me, clearly wanting to say something but not knowing how to broach the subject.

“What is it?” I whispered.

“Just… be on guard,” she said, mirroring my tone. “We still don’t know who the spy is. I sense your sister is playing some long game. Expect traps.”

It’s precisely because we didn’t know who the spy was that I wanted Juliana to join Ray and Kang on the front lines.

I didn’t trust anyone else.

But she seemed far too worried.

“Be real, Juli,” I scoffed. “You seriously don’t think they can eliminate me, do you?”

“They eliminated Michael.”

Okay. Touché. But, “Michael fell into a trap.”

Juliana dipped her head meaningfully. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Expect traps. She’ll not play fair, and you know it. She’ll isolate you, strip you of your Divine Sword, put you in as many disadvantages as she can, and finally look to finish you off from afar. And if you’re gone, we’ll lose our Ring-bearer. It’ll be a stalemate.”

Wow.

Well…

If I’m being honest, I was very curious.

I wanted to see how my sister was planning to do all that. In fact, I wanted to fall into her trap so then I could beat her with all the odds stacked against me.

I smiled. “Sounds fun.”

•••

Twenty minutes in, and what Juliana had feared finally happened.

Roughly eighteen Ivory Cadets scaled the cliff and attacked Ebony Castle. Unfortunately for them, before they could get anywhere near the tower gates, my stationed forces intercepted them.

The whole thing barely even qualified as a fight.

Sure, they took out a few of our Casters, but that was it.

After the last of the intruders were whisked away by the Instructors, Sylvia came into the throne room to make her report.

“I think three of them escaped, sir,” she said, her chest heaving as she wiped a streak of dark mud from her cheek. “My men are pursuing them.”

“Casualties?” Alexia was the one who asked that, her tone all serious and authoritative.

“Nine, ma’am,” was Sylvia’s answer. “They were strong.”

“Where are the rest of your troops?” the blind girl questioned, sitting up straighter. “I don’t see them outside.”

“Surrounding the perimeter,” Sylvia replied cleanly, resting a hand on her sheath. “They won’t let another ant crawl up those cliffs.”

“Hmm. You did well, Sylvia,” I said, coming to stand in front of her. “Go back out. If my sister shows her face, don’t try to be a hero. Just buy me three seconds to step outside.”

She nodded. “Understood, Lord Samael.”

As she started turning back around, I heard Alexia clear her throat. “Sam, ask Michael to retreat from the left flank and come support us.”

“Michael?” Sylvia halted her step, then suddenly flinched and clasped a hand over her mouth, her face scrunching up in a grimace.

Too late.

Her cover was blown.

But she knew that too.

So the silver-eyed girl whirled around with a serrated parrying dagger already flashing out from beneath her sleeve, driving it straight toward my throat.

She was fast, but when you spar with freaks who are my friends on a daily basis, most Awakened feel like they’re moving in slow motion.

I ducked under her thrust, stepping inside her guard, and brought my palm up in a rising strike against her elbow joint.

Sylvia gasped as I grabbed her outstretched arm. Her other hand reached for her sword, but I was already behind her.

Using the momentum of my turn and her arm as a lever, I threw her lithe frame across the hall.

Sylvia plowed through the gates hard and went tumbling down the stone steps outside, crashing out of view into the clearing below.

Unhurried, I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt and started after her.

“Whoa. Do you want me to help?” Alexia asked.

“Nah,” I shrugged, leaving the throne room with an easy wave of my hand. “Just sit there and look pretty. I’ll deal with this.”