The Sword Emperor Transmigrates-Chapter 280

Arcadia. Anyone with even the slightest interest in international affairs couldn’t possibly be unaware of that name. A powerful nation occupying more than half of the continent, it was said to be decades ahead in military and cultural advancements. Arcadia was a land blessed with prosperity for nearly a millennium, untouched by natural disasters and poor harvests.

So many people wished to become citizens of the empire that lines stretching several kilometers formed at its borders. It was said that becoming a resident of Arcadia was more difficult than becoming a noble in a minor kingdom. In fact, commoners in Arcadia often lived better than baronets in other countries, so this wasn’t entirely untrue.

Therefore, those living in the same era as Arcadia shared similar thoughts. Some, like the Kurdish Kingdom, envied the empire’s wealth and sought to steal it, while others desired to share in its prosperity by becoming vassal states. Nevertheless, no one had accurately grasped the true extent of Arcadia’s power.

“What?! Arcadia took Count Robellin?!”

“Not just the count, but his entire family as well!”

“How... how could... U-ugh!”

“Y-Your Majesty!”

A kingdom that had its Swordmaster conscripted overnight couldn’t help but be thrown into chaos.

“...So, you’re saying the mercenary groups residing in the neutral zones have all disbanded? And all the skilled individuals have disappeared?”

“Yes, even the Mercenary King, Bastard, vanished along with his family.”

“This is sudden. It’s unlikely another country recruited them all, so is the culprit Arcadia? I heard they were recruiting skilled individuals, but I never thought they’d take all the mercenaries too.”

Kingdoms in the central continent that relied on mercenaries for proxy wars were bewildered by this sudden loss of military strength. The silver lining was that even the mercenaries employed by enemy nations were taken, leading to an unspoken state of non-aggression. Had only specific nations’ mercenaries been taken, others would have immediately exploited the gap.

The great upheaval caused by Arcadia soon spread to the southern continent.

“Gwak!”

A barbarian warrior hailed as the strongest chieftain in history spewed blood and collapsed. The barbarians were the people who controlled the jungle region.

Unlike civilized people, those who survived in the lush jungles possessed physical abilities and combat skills far superior to the knights of the south. Fortunately, they preferred not to leave their jungles; otherwise, the southern continent could have fallen into their hands.

“Well, they are passable. Neither good nor bad.”

However, to the lineage of Cardenas, whose potential was too extraordinary by human standards, this was nothing remarkable. Despite having surpassed the Transcendence Tier, the barbarians used primitive martial techniques and wasted energy emitting large and intense auras instead of manifesting their Mindscapes. This prompted sighs.

If even the tribe’s representatives were at this level, it could be challenging to incorporate them into the military within three years.

The nomads were no different.

“Conscripting our shamans and warriors? Even if it’s the empire, if they trample on our pride like this...!”

“Oh, you’ve drawn your weapon. Remember, you made the first move.”

Unlike the barbarians, who determined hierarchy through combat and strictly adhered to it, nomadic societies were more complex.

When thinking of nomads, one might imagine impoverished, wandering people. However, they were also groups that amassed great wealth through their merchant caravans. Those who lived as luxuriously as kings and nobles were unlikely to accept conscription orders willingly.

This was even more true for Transcendence Tier warriors and Class 7 shamans. In nations with strict social hierarchies, even such powerful individuals had to be acknowledged. In places without class systems, kings, or nobles, Masters had already risen to positions akin to kings.

“Guh! Th-this can’t be...?!”

“You’re inexperienced. Do you only know how to deal with the weak? Just because you’ve crossed the wall of the Transcendence Tier doesn’t mean it’s over. No, you could say that the Transcendence Tier is just the beginning.”

Accustomed to reigning like kings, the strong of the desert overestimated their power, avoided fights with equals, and resorted to cowardly tactics as if it were the natural thing to do. Compared to knights who routinely faced Transcendence Tier beings and Class 7 Archmages and chased after the backs of Demigod Tier powerhouses, the gap in power was immense.

Those who mistook their position as the pinnacle and those who set distant goals and pursued them—the difference was staggering, even if they were at the same Major Tier.

“...You’re saying His Majesty suddenly passed away and all five candidates with royal succession rights were murdered? Then, this country...?”

A nation that had attempted to infiltrate Arcadia found its royal family wiped out, leading to a power struggle among its nobles. Had it been a civil war centered around one or two great nobles, the country could have simply split in half. However, in a nation where the royal family’s power was immense, the nobles’ forces were evenly matched. With anyone capable of becoming king, chaos was inevitable.

Moreover, with all Transcendence Tier individuals gone, a quick resolution was unlikely.

“Until yesterday, the marquis was enjoying horseback riding and hunting, but he suddenly passed away! Could it be an assassination?!”

“It wasn’t a curse or poison, and there were no traces of magic either.”

“I’ve heard that Swordmasters can use attacks that strike down only the spirit, leaving no physical mark... Could that be it?”

“Who would bother sending an assassin of that caliber? Honestly, if there’s even one nation capable of producing such a killer, well, there’s only one, isn’t there?”

Those disturbed by Arcadia’s preparations for the Demoniac conquest and the final battle had been urging a preemptive strike, but they began to die off one by one. Anyone sharp enough to recognize the monstrous hand behind it all had no choice but to keep their mouths shut.

No matter how elite their guards or impenetrable their magical defenses were, once the difference in skill became too vast, nothing could stop the Cardenas knights. Team 1, comprised of the finest knights in the Order of the Light Dragon, was a force so deadly they could infiltrate anywhere, save perhaps the forbidden zones of the Three Noble Houses’ estates and the imperial palace of Arcadia itself.

They were the kind who could stroll right through royal palace gates in broad daylight and decapitate a king. It was impossible for those hawkish warmongers, who thought the time had come to topple the millennia-old empire and reach for the sky, to survive.

“Here’s the list of those active in Atlantis.”

Traveling further south, past the southern continent to visit the Maritime Alliance, Team 4 received the full cooperation of the Council of Atlantis.

Not only did they get help from Bermuda, but even the Atlantis branch of the Mage Tower provided their personnel records without resistance. This spared them the hassle of investigating and verifying every individual from scratch.

Having once been saved by Leonard and gifted peace across the Sixth Sea District, Atlantis had no reason to offer any dissent.

“Offer the adventurers payment worthy of their skill and reputation. I don’t mind if it’s upfront. And include that they’ll be given either imperial citizenship or the chance to learn from the Cardenas or the Wickelines, whichever they prefer. Make sure they understand how generous the offer is.”

The conditions were so extraordinary that the official taking notes couldn’t resist leaning toward the Light Dragon knight and whispering, “Um... excuse me, but...”

“Hmm?”

“I was once part of a Rank A expedition team myself. Would there be a chance I could be hired under similar terms? I wouldn’t mind waiting until you’ve finished recruiting all the other adventurers.”

The Light Dragon knight thought about it for a moment, then gave a nod. “A former adventurer, huh? Well, I don’t see why not. It’s not like you stepped down because of injury, right?”

“My comrades all retired. At my age, putting together a new team or finding a place to fit in won’t be so easy.”

“I see.”

Even if he was a little rusty from being away from the field, a few months of grinding in the Cardenas estate would whip him right back into shape. There was at least a tenfold gap between what they considered training intensity, but in the end, both sides walked away satisfied with the agreement.

More importantly, Arcadia’s plan to enlist Rank A and higher expedition teams was going smoothly—almost too smoothly. It wasn’t surprising. The rewards Arcadia offered were beyond measure. Anyone with a family to support couldn’t possibly refuse the allure of imperial citizenship, and anyone aiming for greater heights couldn’t turn down the opportunity to train with the Cardenas or the Wickelines.

“Just what is Arcadia planning?”

“What in the world are they thinking?”

Anyone with the slightest insight into world affairs could sense the shift. They recognized that an astronomical amount of power was being drawn toward Arcadia.

It was as though a giant capable of conquering or annihilating the world with a mere playful punch was preparing for something with its full strength. The sheer weight of that dreadful truth was enough to make even the wisest lose their composure.

They understood that whatever was approaching in the not-so-distant future would decide the fate of the world itself.

“...Not yet, huh?”

A year passed, then two. Arcadia remained still, and the world continued in peace.

With Arcadia’s “great purge,” every dangerous element had been thoroughly eliminated. Countries consumed by civil wars and power struggles had neither the means nor the will to project their strength outward, so no large-scale wars broke out.

The wise men of the world watched the sun rise and set each day, feeling their hearts pound as if they could hear the footsteps of the world’s end drawing closer.

* * *

When there were just three years left before the final battle, Arcadia had already executed and adjusted more preparations than anyone could possibly count.

The mass recruitment of talent across the continent was merely the groundwork. In truth, even if they gathered every single talented person the continent had to offer, it would barely cover a tenth of the capability of any one of the empire’s Three Noble Houses. In fact, it was conclusively determined they wouldn’t even be able to amount to ten percent.

So then, what preparations were deemed truly important? It was the Hell Gate the Arcadian Empire had used as a passage during the Demoniac conquest. It was located in Outpost 7, and since the entirety of the Middle Realm’s forces would have to pass through it, leaving the Hell Gate in its current state would be foolish.

“It seems we can’t interfere with the existence of the gates, but controlling the number and size is possible. If we consolidate the nine scattered gates into one, it should suffice,” Hades proposed.

“There’s a concern, though. If we expand the passage that much, won’t it become much harder to defend?”

There were those who objected.

“If Outer Gods are already pouring into the Middle Realm, isn’t it game over anyway? Is there even a point in worrying about defense at that point?”

“...That’s true.”

It was an argument impossible to refute. The next day, Hades began shutting down the Hell Gates at every outpost except Outpost 7. He focused all the connections between the Middle Realm and the Demonic Realm solely on that single Hell Gate in Outpost 7.

Naturally, the Hell Gate in Outpost 7, now the only existing Hell Gate, expanded to nearly ten times its original size, and it stabilized to the point where vast armies could pass through at any time.

Though Hades permitted habitation within his divine territory, the living could not remain there long. When the boundary between life and death blurred, one risked either becoming an Undead or having their lifespan drastically shortened.

However, there existed certain individuals who could stay in the underworld indefinitely, suffering no ill effects.

“Ha! Feels like the blood of my ancestors is boiling!”

“Aye! Any descendant of the Dvergr can’t help but thrive underground!”

They were the Jehoia family, the descendants of the ancient higher race Dvergr, known today as the dwarves. Just as it was said their ancestors had lived in the netherworld, those of the Jehoia bloodline showed no adverse reaction to spending years beneath the surface. In fact, they seemed to flourish there, producing even more intricate and masterful craftsmanship.

Thanks to this, Jehoia artisans dared to set up the production of strategic weapons in Hades’ territory itself in preparation for the final battle. They attempted to craft weapons meant to face enemies at the Demigod Tier, possibly even at the True God level.

For the first time, Arcadia’s treasury ran dry. It was a project so costly that even after victory, it would take hundreds of years to recover financially—if recovery was possible at all. Every last coin was poured into it, leaving nothing behind.

“Ho?”

Even Hades stroked his chin in admiration. The dwarves had been hammering away at something, and it turned out they had recreated a war machine he’d glimpsed once in the age of the gods.

Compared to the originals of the old era, the war machine had a few shortcomings, but still, it was a spitting image.

“Is that Talos, Guardian of Crete?”

Hephaestus had handed down the blueprints, and the famed craftsman Daedalus had completed the bronze giant.

A towering bronze colossus nearly thirty meters tall now stood, its lifeless eyes gazing down upon all. Even though it had yet to be activated, the overwhelming pressure it exuded was palpable. According to the records, its blood ran hotter than molten lava, and it could tear mountains from the earth and hurl them with ease.