The Lord: In Another World, I Have a Summoning Card !-Chapter 39 : Aftermath of Blood

The sky began to part its clouds shyly... and faint rays of sunlight slowly slipped through the smoke and lingering dust in the air, as if trying to sneak down to a land exhausted by war.

On the battlefield, life slowly began to return—but it was a life steeped in silence and blood.

The fortress soldiers bent their heavy bodies, lifting rubble and gathering broken iron and charred wood.

Large wooden carts creaked along, groaning under the weight of stacked corpses. Some were covered with gray cloth, while others were left exposed, telling the stories of their deaths without a single word.

Water was poured over the red earth, mixing with blood and washing it away, as if trying to erase the memory.

The stench of death and burning still clung to the air, resisting the soldiers’ attempts to cleanse the place, despite their use of special mixtures—bitter herbs brewed to mask the smell.

Victor stood just a few steps away from the shattered gate, his eyes calmly scanning the scene. His face showed no hesitation.

He raised his hand, and his voice pierced through the grief-laden air:

"Begin repairs on the gate... We can’t afford the luxury of waiting."

Above him, the flames in the braziers placed along the city walls flickered at regular intervals, like the heartbeat of a dying body struggling to stay alive.

Next to each brazier stood five fortress infantry men in light armor that allowed swift movement. Their eyes scanned the surroundings, never blinking for long.

From time to time, patrol squads passed—each consisting of five infantrymen and two crossbowmen—circling the city’s four walls, walking with steady steps and weapons always at the ready.

Inside the inner side of the wall, a support unit of ten men from the "Lake Rats" gang—hardened and seasoned criminals—had been assigned to secure the rear line and provide rapid support when needed.

Frankly speaking, the city was now fortified to a degree that made infiltration nearly impossible; not even a lone orc could sneak through without being detected.

On the northern side of the wall, elite stationary units were deployed—each consisting of ten soldiers led by a seasoned officer at the peak level of a knight trainee. Clad in full armor, they appeared fully prepared to mobilize at a moment’s notice.

At times, Victor himself—the current commander of the forces—could be seen walking the walls or joining the patrols. His presence alone reflected the intense discipline and seriousness dominating the atmosphere.

Everyone was stern. No one dared to neglect their duties.

And if one paused to reflect on the situation, the reason became clear.

Just yesterday, orc forces had launched an assault on the fortress, and their power had been formidable. Had the battle not taken place within the city’s defenses, the outcome might have leaned in their favor.

Fortunately, the enemy underestimated our forces, storming the fortress without gathering enough intelligence. Worse for them, their commander had separated from his troops for his own reasons, further adding to their confusion.

Moreover, we deployed an elite unit and executed a tight encirclement around the invaders. Fate was on our side—especially with the presence of a high-ranking knight guarding the main gate. That alone brought despair to the enemy.

In truth, it’s hard to predict what might have happened had things played out differently.

And of course, even in the most glorious victories, there is no escaping loss and bloodshed. The fortress forces had suffered significant casualties.

That is why these soldiers—most of them fresh recruits—who had fought in that bloody battle and witnessed their comrades fall, now understood in the depths of their hearts the grim reality of this war.

They knew that survival required unwavering obedience to their commanders and a serious commitment to preparation and training.

"If this is a command from our superiors, then we shall carry it out with full conscience."—This was the thought etched into their minds.

The danger had not passed; in fact, many feared that another battle of equal ferocity loomed on the horizon.

And if luck did not favor them next time, they could find themselves facing a new wave of orcs attempting to breach the fortress—or worse, be transferred to more perilous defensive zones, or even thrust into the frontlines of the grand war being led by Duke Krayman and the northern nobles against the main orc army.

That alone was terrifying.

These soldiers, hailing from the southwest, were fully aware that they still lacked experience and could not compare to the northern forces, who battled the orc tide year after year.

More concerning still, they had no local support—heightening the chances that they’d be used as cannon fodder or human shields by more seasoned and influential troops.

All they could do now was cling silently to prayer and hope... that they wouldn’t become part of the next list of casualties.

At the top of the fortress, behind the glass pane of his wide office window, Arthur stood gazing out toward the northern wall.

The wind stirred the heavy curtains, and the sky beyond still held remnants of darkness.

Beside him, Gabriel spoke in a low voice, as if the presence of death demanded silence: 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

"It seems the soldiers from House Verner’s territory... have fought a battle they won’t soon forget. They’ve come to understand the true cruelty of war—now that it has touched them directly."

Arthur didn’t respond right away. He merely nodded slightly, his eyes still fixed on the gray horizon.

Two days had passed since the clashing of blades had ceased, but the remnants of battle still lingered in the air.Smoke clung to the sky—faded, yet present. Blood had been washed away with water and buried beneath the dirt, but its scent... still lingered.

The bodies had either been buried or burned, and the northern gate, which had nearly been reduced to rubble, was slowly rising again—restored by the hands of soldiers whose eyes still bore the weight of trauma.

Arthur sat in his primary seat, his frame heavy, his expression still.Beside him stood Gabriel, steady as ever, silently watching over his lord.

Arthur finally spoke, his voice as cold as ice:"Savages... just scattered tribes with no real structure. The real threat... hasn’t begun yet. The great clans and the new royal court system of the orcs... they’ve yet to appear."

He turned slowly to Gabriel, his tone lowering but gaining the weight of mountains."Now... it’s time to prepare. We haven’t won... we’ve only, perhaps, survived the first round."

A silence followed—so thick it seemed even the stone walls were listening.

Now...Arthur sat at his desk, deep within the fortress that had endured.The scent of ash and iron still clung faintly to the air, but the castle walls had regained their dignity. Its aura of authority was beginning to return—slowly but surely.

Gabriel gently tapped the wooden desk and placed a file in front of Arthur."These are the results of the battle, my lord," he said as he slid the report toward him.

Arthur took the paper with a calm hand and began reading aloud, his voice low but clear:"General Military Report – Fort Kaldora. Soldier deaths: 342. Critically wounded: 117. Units that lost more than half their force: Fifth Battalion (Southern Archers), First Fort Defense Squad. Infrastructure damage: Main gate – nearly total destruction (currently under repair). Eastern wall – partial damage. Northern towers – minimal damage."

Arthur exhaled silently, then looked up after finishing the first page.

He was clearly tense, but he didn’t allow himself to appear weak in front of those present. After a moment of silence, he turned to the next page.

"The documented losses among the orcs..." he began reading in a steady voice

."Dead: between 800 to 900 orcs. Remaining or fleeing forces: unknown precisely, but more than 70 retreated. Confirmed fallen leaders: 6 sub-commanders. Captured: Supreme Commander Gerom and 22 orcs."

Then he added, as he read the spoils section:"Battle spoils: metal weapons crafted by orcs, encrypted documents suspected to be maps or magical messages, the stone box (currently being secured and analyzed)."

Arthur closed the report and took a deep breath, then looked out the window toward the other side of the city wall, where reconstruction work was still underway.

The gap left by the orcish assault had turned into a war workshop, led by officers with field experience. Recruits were contributing their skills—some of them having prior experience in carpentry and construction.

Some tools and furniture from the fortress and the keep had been dismantled right after the war, and the wood was repurposed to build a temporary wooden barrier at the opening.

Arthur then looked at Gabriel, who was silently standing in the room, and asked,"How is Jonathan?"

Gabriel replied,"After the battle ended, he met with Commander Viktor. It’s true he didn’t assume command in Viktor’s place—due to his previous identity and without your permission—but he did assist Viktor in managing the troops and offered him several directives."

Arthur pondered the matter.

In truth, Arthur had no intention of reinstating Jonathan’s identity as commander of the forces. Jonathan’s current level was far beyond the troops he might be assigned to lead.

His appearance to the outside world would undoubtedly raise questions about his identity.

After all, it would be absurd for a silver knight to suddenly appear—unknown, without any clear background.

This wasn’t some fantasy tale, where people disappear into the mountains, seal themselves away, train alone after acquiring a minor technique, and then return decades later as inexplicably powerful beings... That doesn’t happen in reality.

And it would be inefficient to overlook Viktor’s talent at the moment. Refining and investing in that talent, while conditions are favorable, was the smarter choice.

Of course, the most important thing was that Jonathan’s role had already been decided in Arthur’s heart... He was to be his personal bodyguard.

In the end, nothing was more important than his personal security—as the lord.

And his life held the highest value.

Not because Arthur was a coward, but because it was the truth.

You can’t expect your enemies to always use the same strength you have, or to follow rules of honor and fair battle... That kind of thinking was unrealistic.

Arthur himself did not trust such ideals. On the contrary, he wouldn’t hesitate to use methods like assassination or poison if that’s what it took to eliminate a powerful enemy.

To him, it was all about survival.

Gabriel nodded again, but this time he seemed hesitant before handing over a new file and speaking:

"My lord... there is another matter. This is the interrogation report of Gerom and the imprisoned orcs, as you requested earlier."

Arthur didn’t lift his head. Instead, he quietly opened the file and began to read.

He had just finished going through the military report when he looked up at Gabriel, who stood silently before him, holding another file in his hands. After a tense pause, Arthur spoke in his usual icy tone:

"Nothing from Gerom?"

Gabriel bowed slightly, trying to mask the anxiety welling up inside him. He wanted to appear strong in the presence of the Lord—but today, it was proving especially difficult. He replied in a low but clear voice:

"No, my lord. We tried every method possible. During the interrogation, we aimed to extract intelligence—anything about the orcs, the army he belongs to, or even that stone box he was willing to risk invading the fortress for. But he refused to speak.

He only looked at me with contempt, as if we were nothing more than insects to him. He uttered some words in the local orc dialect, but unfortunately, we couldn’t understand most of it. It seemed garbled... and full of curses."

Arthur frowned slightly, clearly dissatisfied with the response. He closed the military report he had been holding, then slowly raised his eyes to Gabriel. His voice was more serious now, yet still cold:

"And what about the rest of his soldiers—the ones he brought when he attempted to attack me directly? Has there been any change in their interrogations?"

He asked with a detached tone, though the tension behind his repeated questioning was becoming increasingly obvious.

Gabriel took a deep breath, as if the words were difficult to push out. His tone carried hesitation, but he managed to respond with a voice that was, for the most part, steady:

"During the second round of interrogations, most of the soldiers who accompanied Gerom—including those who chose to surrender at the outset—fell completely silent, even more so than their commander. There were only one or two who lacked a strong will... but the problem is, the information they gave was extremely limited. It largely matched what we had already obtained from the documents handed over by Baron Edric. Nothing new, nothing significant."

Arthur looked back at the report, as if searching for details he might have overlooked the first time. Then he closed his eyes briefly, seemingly gathering his thoughts, and said—his fingers now pressing against the edge of the desk, as though the tension had begun to build:

"So... nothing of value. We didn’t extract a single decisive piece of intelligence, did we?"