Chapter 120: Chapter 113: The Price of Victory

Snow fell quietly over Elarion.

For the first time in months—

The cannons had fallen silent.

No artillery thundered across the mountains. No machine guns roared from trench fortifications. No war horns echoed through frozen valleys.

Only cold wind remained And death.

The battlefield south of Elarion had become a graveyard stretching for miles.

Burned wagons remained scattered across shattered roads. Dead cavalry beasts froze beneath layers of snow. Broken banners of southern houses fluttered weakly among cratered fields.

The trenches still stood.

Blackened. Scarred. Bloodstained.

The victory had spread across the north like wildfire.

Elarion had defeated the southern coalition. Destroyed noble armies. Killed grand knights. Shattered mana cavalry formations. Burned the enemy command camps.

The kingdom itself trembled from the aftermath.

But inside Elarion—

The mood felt quieter than expected.

Because victories still carried costs.

Throughout the city, funeral fires burned continuously.

Rows of wounded soldiers filled military hospitals while healers moved day and night between beds soaked with blood and medicine.

The surviving rifle regiments looked exhausted beyond belief.

Many soldiers still could not properly sleep.

Not after weeks of artillery,hearing thousands die screaming beyond the trenches and after witnessing machine guns erase entire charges.

War had changed them.

Even victory could not undo that.

Near the southern gates, workers repaired damaged trench sectors while engineering teams dismantled destroyed artillery positions.

Riflemen cleaned weapons silently. Supply officers counted ammunition crates repeatedly. Messengers moved constantly between military districts.

Elarion had survived.

Now it needed rebuilding.

Deep beneath the central fortress district—

Inside the war command chamber—

The leaders of Elarion gathered once more.

The chamber looked very different from before the war.

Maps covered nearly every wall now. Artillery range charts remained stacked across tables. Spent rifle casings filled metal trays near engineering sectors.

And at the center of the room—

Lucien stood silently beside the massive battlefield map.

Around him gathered the core leadership of Elarion.

Cedric. Malen. Senior artillery officers. Logistics commanders. Engineering chiefs. Rifle regiment vice-commanders.

Even several dwarven smith masters attended the meeting.

The atmosphere felt exhausted.

For several moments no one spoke.

Then Lucien finally broke the silence.

"Begin casualty reports."

The words immediately changed the mood.

Because it was the numbers that made war real.

One military officer stepped forward holding several report scrolls tightly beneath his arm.

The man looked pale from lack of sleep.

"We completed final battlefield estimates at dawn, my lord."

Lucien nodded once.

"Read them."

The officer inhaled slowly.

Then began.

"Confirmed dead..."

The room became completely silent.

"...Two-hundred seventy-eight."

No one reacted immediately.

Not because the number was small.

But because everyone present remembered what they had faced.

Tens of thousands. Mana cavalry. Elite knights. Grand knights.

And Elarion had survived with less than three hundred dead.

The number almost sounded unreal,it was almost too good almost from a myth according to this world estimates

Still—

Two-hundred seventy-eight remained two-hundred seventy-eight.

Two-hundred seventy-eight men who would never return home.

The officer continued quietly.

"Confirmed wounded... three-hundred fifty-seven."

Several commanders lowered their eyes slightly.

The wounded count remained manageable compared to the scale of battle—

But many injuries were severe.

Burns. Shrapnel wounds. Crushed limbs. Mana damage.

Some soldiers would never fight again.

Cedric folded his arms tightly.

"...Rifle regiments?"

Another officer answered immediately.

"Most losses came from outer trench sectors during the first cavalry assaults and elite knight breakthrough attempts."

Malen spoke next.

"The shield infantry assault also caused casualties before fragmentation bombardment fully disrupted them."

Lucien nodded slowly.

The battlefield map before him still displayed markers where coalition assaults nearly reached the trenches.

Some sectors had come dangerously close to collapse.

One artillery commander spoke carefully afterward.

"We also lost fourteen cannon crews from counterbattery fire during the first engagements."

Another officer added quietly:

"Machine gun teams suffered casualties during the mana cavalry flank attacks."

Silence settled again briefly.

Because despite the overwhelming victory—

The battle had not been effortless.

Several moments later Lucien finally spoke again.

"Civilian losses?"

A logistics officer answered quickly.

"Minimal." "No direct attacks reached the city itself."

That visibly relaxed several commanders.

Lucien slowly walked toward the massive battlefield map afterward.

The southern valleys remained covered in red markings representing destroyed coalition sectors.

The scale of destruction still looked absurd even on paper.

Finally Cedric spoke quietly:

"...Do we have estimates for enemy losses?"

The room grew still again.

One officer slowly answered.

"Confirmed enemy dead currently exceeds forty-six thousand."

Several commanders exhaled slowly hearing the number aloud.

Even after witnessing the battlefield personally—

The scale remained staggering.

The officer continued carefully.

"Potential total losses including retreat casualties may exceed fifty thousand."

Silence filled the hall.

Because no one present had ever witnessed destruction on that scale before.

Not even the veteran commanders.

Malen finally muttered quietly:

"...The kingdom will never view warfare the same way again."

No one disagreed.

Another officer stepped forward with logistics records.

"My lord... ammunition reports."

Lucien turned toward him immediately.

This mattered.

Wars were won by supply as much as battle.

The officer opened several documents nervously.

"Rifle ammunition expenditure exceeded all previous estimates."

He looked genuinely stunned while reading the numbers.

"Total rifle rounds fired during the campaign crossed three million."

Several vice-commanders blinked hearing that.

Even the dwarven smiths looked surprised.

The officer continued.

"Machine gun ammunition consumption was... catastrophic."

One exhausted engineer muttered:

"That’s one way to say it."

Several commanders actually laughed quietly for the first time during the meeting.

The logistics officer kept reading.

"Three machine guns consumed nearly one-quarter of our prepared emergency reserves during the final battle alone."

Now the room became serious again.

Because that number mattered.

A lot.

Lucien crossed his arms thoughtfully.

"How long until reserves recover?"

A dwarven production master answered immediately.

"If all factories continue operating at current speed..."

The dwarf scratched his beard.

"...Three months minimum."

Another engineering officer quickly added:

"Unless we expand shell and cartridge manufacturing further."

Lucien nodded slowly.

That aligned with his expectations.

Warfare devoured ammunition endlessly.

Another logistics report followed.

"Artillery shell reserves remain stable despite bombardment."

The officer paused awkwardly afterward.

"However..."

Lucien looked toward him.

"Speak."

"...The fragmentation shells proved far more effective than expected."

Several artillery commanders smirked slightly hearing that understatement.

One muttered quietly:

"They erased entire formations."

Lucien ignored the comment.

"How many remain?"

"Roughly forty-two percent of prepared stockpiles."

That answer visibly relieved several commanders.

The artillery remained sustainable.

Good.

Another officer stepped forward.

"Shoulder-fired rocket inventory is critically low."

Cedric frowned.

"How low?"

"...Twenty-one operational rockets remain."

The room went silent again.

That was dangerous.

The rockets had become essential against elite knight assaults.

Lucien immediately gave new orders.

"Expand explosive production." "Prioritize rocket assembly after rifle ammunition."

The engineering officers nodded quickly.

Then came the landship reports.

The atmosphere shifted again immediately.

Because everyone in the room understood what those machines represented now.

One engineer looked simultaneously exhausted and proud.

"All three landships survived."

Several commanders visibly relaxed hearing that.

The machines had become symbols of Elarion’s victory already.

The engineer continued carefully.

"However... all sustained structural damage."

He pointed toward several diagrams.

"Machine gun overheating nearly caused catastrophic barrel failures during sustained fire."

Another engineer added quickly:

"Track systems also suffered severe stress during the countercharge."

Lucien nodded thoughtfully.

Those issues had been expected.

The first-generation landships were functional—

But crude.

Malen spoke next.

"Even damaged... they terrified the enemy."

Several commanders nodded immediately.

The routed coalition survivors had reportedly become terrified merely hearing machine gun sounds afterward.

One dwarven engineer suddenly grinned proudly.

"The southern nobles probably think the machines are magical monsters."

A few officers laughed again quietly.

Cedric shook his head slightly.

"They’re not entirely wrong."

The meeting continued for nearly two more hours.

Trench repair schedules. Steel reserves. Food supplies. Recruitment potential. Medical shortages.

Every aspect of Elarion’s war machine underwent review.

And gradually—

A clear truth emerged.

Elarion had survived the coalition.

But future wars would become larger.

Harder and more industrialized.

Eventually the final reports ended.

The room finally fell quiet again.

Exhaustion visibly settled across nearly every commander.

Then unexpectedly—

A familiar mechanical sound echoed inside Lucien’s mind.

[DING.]

Lucien’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The system.

The commanders around him continued discussing logistics quietly while the translucent blue interface appeared before Lucien alone.

[MILESTONE ACHIEVED.]

[You have successfully defeated a coalition force exceeding ten times your military size while preserving core territorial integrity.]

[Historical Battlefield Milestone Recorded.]

[Evaluation: — Tactical Innovation: Exceptional — Defensive Efficiency: Exceptional — Strategic Adaptability: Exceptional — Psychological Warfare Impact: Extreme]

[Reward Granted.]

[10x Rare Spin Voucher Acquired.]

For several moments—

Lucien simply stared silently at the floating blue interface.

Ten rare spins.

Even after all this time using the system—

It always managed to surprise him.

The commanders nearby noticed Lucien suddenly go quiet.

Cedric frowned slightly.

"My lord?"

Lucien blinked once before dismissing the interface instantly.

The blue screens vanished.

"...Nothing."

Cedric clearly did not believe that answer.

But wisely chose not pressing further.

Inside Lucien’s thoughts however—

The implications moved rapidly.

Rare spins.

Not common rewards.

Not small blueprints.

Rare.

The system did not hand out rewards like this casually.

Especially not ten at once.

Which meant one thing.

The system itself considered the coalition war a major turning point.

Lucien slowly looked toward the battlefield maps again.

The kingdom feared Elarion now.

The nobles panicked. The crown had noticed. Warfare itself had changed.

And somehow—

This was probably only the beginning.

One logistics officer interrupted his thoughts carefully.

"My lord... there is one more matter."

Lucien looked toward him.

"Speak."

"The southern retreat left enormous quantities of abandoned equipment."

Now several commanders looked interested again.

The officer continued.

"Cannons." "Steel." "Armor." "Supply wagons." "Mana beast equipment."

Cedric immediately understood the implication.

"...Recovery operations."

The officer nodded quickly.

"We estimate enough captured material to significantly expand production."

Several dwarven smiths suddenly looked very happy.

One muttered:

"Now that’s proper victory."

Lucien considered the matter briefly.

Then nodded once.

"Recover everything usable."

The commanders immediately began discussing salvage operations afterward.

And gradually—

The atmosphere inside the chamber changed.

Less mourning and more of determination.

Because despite the losses—

Elarion had done the impossible.

It had survived.

Far above the fortress meanwhile—

Snow continued falling quietly across the mountains.

And resting atop one distant frozen cliff—

Aurethar watched Elarion silently.

The golden dragon’s enormous tail shifted lazily across the snow while smoke drifted slowly from his nostrils.

Kieran sat nearby sharpening his blade quietly.

Finally the dragon spoke.

"So." "The screaming metal city survived."

Kieran did not look up.

"Yes."

Aurethar’s golden eyes narrowed slightly toward Elarion below.

"The nobles are going to panic."

The knight answered calmly.

"They already are."

The dragon suddenly grinned.

"Good."

Then after a pause—

Aurethar began laughing softly again.

"I still can’t believe the cavalry charged the machine guns twice."