Regressing as the Reincarnated Bastard of the Sword Clan

Chapter 240

A few days later, the grand expedition ceremony began.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The war drums thundered, their resounding beats setting the rhythm for the procession.

Step, step, step!

Swordsmen clad in various uniforms marched in unison.

The elite White Armored Dragon Guard, the Red Blade Knights, and the Blue Sword Vanguard led the charge, followed by the auxiliary houses like the Six Snow Clans and numerous other retainers. Even the banners of vassal families from the former Troivan region flew proudly.

All factions loyal to Ragnar had gathered for this momentous occasion.

This was not merely Ragnar’s ceremony—it was the Northern Alliance’s declaration.

Under Ragnar’s leadership, a coalition of forces was forming to embark on a massive campaign.

Their target? The Forest of Naga, where Hilda resided.

Headlines from across the continent erupted in response:

<The Dawn of the Northern Alliance!>
<Ragnar’s Sword Moves—Where Will It Strike?>
<The Archdukes Release a Joint Statement: “Avoid Provocative and Dangerous Actions.”>
<Ragnar Ignores Concerns from the Archdukes.>
<Young Patriarch Theo Ragnar, the Heavenly Dragon, Delivers Opening Address.>
<The Forest of Naga: A New Proxy Battlefield for Rival Powers?>

Across the continent, countless newspapers raced to cover the unfolding events.

Reactions poured in, with many expressing concern over Ragnar’s sudden and aggressive mobilization.

The archdukes, in particular, were alarmed.

Already unsettled by Theo’s recent promotion and his overwhelming display of power, they now faced the reality of Ragnar amassing a vast army.

Given Ragnar’s recent economic prosperity, the scale of this operation was no surprise—and it was nothing short of terrifying.

Predictably, as more details about the expedition emerged after the ceremony, the ripple effects only intensified.

Follow-up Reports Detailed the Magnitude of the Expedition:

<At least 100,000 troops gathered in the north, with more arriving daily.>
<Magical trains running along the eastern railway bring in endless reinforcements.>
<Additional support arrives from newly aligned clans and vassal houses.>
<Reports suggest debates over spoils of war are already underway.>
<Troop estimates now range from 150,000 to 400,000.>

A force exceeding 100,000 soldiers was a rarity in history—and this was the north, a land renowned for producing fierce warriors and swordsmen.

Every individual soldier from this region was a walking war machine, capable of overwhelming ordinary foes.

The mere mention of such an army stirred widespread alarm.

Even the Imperial Court issued an official warning.

<Imperial Court Declares the Expedition Dangerous and Orders Ragnar to Withdraw.>

Of course, Ragnar had no intention of heeding such a decree. Reports soon emerged that the imperial envoy had stormed back, frustrated and empty-handed.

Meanwhile, the massive army reached its destination: the Forest of Naga.

The northern forces encircled the area with a precision and discipline that left no doubt—Ragnar’s sword was ready to strike.

***

“Are we to interpret this as the North plotting rebellion?”

A piercing voice, impossible to identify as male or female, echoed sharply through the hall.

The speaker was Bedok, one of the Imperial Court’s Eight Eunuchs. His pale face, powdered to an unnaturally ghostly white, was accented with ruddy cheeks. His gaunt frame and sharp, menacing eyes made many in the room turn pale and avert their gazes.

The oppressive energy he exuded was one thing; the greater fear was that a misstep might incur his wrath, potentially bringing disaster to their families.

The Imperial Court was known to house numerous Imperial Fathers and Imperial Tutors—titles granted to those entrusted with the emperor’s deepest trust.

Of course, they were not biologically related to the emperor. The titles signified those whose advice and loyalty were as significant as a father’s or a mentor’s.

The current emperor, Crape II, had risen to the throne through the machinations of eunuchs despite being a distant branch of the imperial family with no real claim.

This dependency rendered him impotent in governance, as eunuchs intervened in every matter. Resources and manpower were allocated solely based on the eunuchs’ interests, leaving the emperor’s own will all but irrelevant.

Even the emperor himself seemed content with the trappings of power, showing little desire to actively govern.

Corruption flourished, and no one opposed it—not even the 18 Archdukes, who were responsible for aiding the emperor in ruling the empire.

A weakened central government meant the archdukes grew stronger. This unspoken alliance between eunuchs and archdukes persisted for decades, leaving the Imperial Court toothless.

Now, the emperor’s health was in dire straits. Childless and battling a terminal illness, his death seemed imminent.

Civil unrest was rampant, regions stricken by disaster were reduced to wastelands, and displaced refugees roamed the land.

Rebellions broke out. Religious cults like the Holy Demon Sect surged in influence, exploiting the chaos.

The archdukes absorbed the displaced, strengthening their territories and fueling their ambitions.

The chaos provided fertile ground for those who dared to dream of empire.

It was under such circumstances that Troivan once dared to wage war against Ragnar.

But Ragnar’s decisive victory in the Northern War and the sheer scale of its current mobilization sent shockwaves through the Imperial Court.

If Ragnar decided to march its colossal army south toward the imperial capital, there would be no stopping them.

The Imperial Court, long devoid of real authority, could muster only a token force of conscripts from the capital and its surroundings—hardly enough to face the Northern Alliance.

This was why Bedok had been dispatched as an envoy.

As one of the Eight Eunuchs who ruled the Imperial Court in the emperor’s stead, Bedok typically lounged on luxurious thrones, issuing commands with a flick of his fingers.

But the gravity of the situation had forced him to personally intervene.

Still, Bedok was deeply uncomfortable—and beyond that, infuriated.

Not only were some too intimidated to meet his gaze, but others dared to behave as rudely as…

“Hey, seedless watermelon!”

The insult came from Lezé, a young member of the Nine Dragons who had recently ascended to prominence.

Bedok’s face contorted in rage as Lezé smirked, arms crossed nonchalantly.

“What did you just say? How dare you spout such insolence to an imperial envoy!”

“And what about the vile nonsense you eunuchs whisper into the emperor’s ear? Isn’t that real insolence?”

“You—!”

“You what! Your words are as empty as your—”

“Enough!” Julius and other Nine Dragons intervened, attempting to restore decorum.

“Lezé, you’ve gone too far,” said Julius, suppressing a chuckle.

“Too far?” Lezé snorted, refusing to back down. “I thought it was funny.”

Bedok’s rage grew as the room erupted into muted laughter. He turned sharply toward Theo.

“Lord Young Patriarch! Will you allow such blatant disrespect toward an envoy of the Imperial Court?”

Theo, who had remained silent, finally spoke, his tone calm but chilling.

“You’re being far too familiar.”

“…What?”

“I said, your tone is too familiar.”

The room fell silent.

“No matter your title as Imperial Father, you hold only an honorary rank. At best, you are a junior noble of minor stature—a mere bureaucrat. Meanwhile, Ragnar is a grand duchy, and I am its heir. For me to even humor you by acknowledging your presence is an act of courtesy born from loyalty to the empire. Yet you dare speak so brazenly?”

Bedok’s face turned red, his fists trembling beneath his robes.

“If you wish to command respect, start by showing it. Remember that this is not the imperial capital.”

The implied threat was clear: should he overstep, there would be no repercussions for ending him here and now.

Bedok realized the truth of it—should he die, the other eunuchs would likely celebrate, relieved to have one less rival for power.

“…I apologize for my rudeness.”

“Apology accepted.”

Theo’s icy glare eased slightly, though the tension lingered.

Bedok delivered the emperor’s message:

“His Majesty has heard of your Northern Expedition and expressed grave concern over its intentions. He bids you to cease your march and return to your lands.”

Theo nodded politely.

“His Majesty’s concern is deeply appreciated. Please assure him that this campaign aims only to resolve the chaos in the Forest of Naga. Once peace is restored, we will return.”

“However—”

“The emperor has also issued orders to the archdukes to vacate the forest, yet they refuse to comply. That land is, after all, imperial property, is it not? We are merely acting as the emperor’s sword to restore order. His benevolence has been duly noted.”

Bedok was left speechless.

Theo had twisted the emperor’s demand for withdrawal into a declaration of support, positioning Ragnar as the empire’s protector.

Fuming, Bedok knew further argument was futile. These northerners were not listening.

“I will relay Ragnar’s intentions to His Majesty,” he said, his voice shaking with suppressed anger.

“Please do,” Theo replied, turning back to discuss strategy with Julius.

As Bedok exited the hall, his fists clenched beneath his robes.

“I’ll make them pay for this humiliation.”

But he failed to notice Theo’s cold gaze following him until he disappeared from sight.

***

After Bedok’s Departure

“Well, that was satisfying… but don’t you think you’ve stirred the pot a bit too much?”

Lezé exhaled deeply, the tension in the room finally dissipating. Turning to Theo, he raised a skeptical eyebrow.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that publicly humiliating an Imperial envoy might have been a dangerous overstep.

Theo, however, merely smiled.

He couldn’t easily explain that this was all part of a larger plan, one only possible because of his foreknowledge of the future.

‘Bedok isn’t someone to underestimate,’ Theo thought.

The man’s serpentine cunning hid beneath his outwardly frail and erratic demeanor. Bedok wasn’t the type to let an insult like this go unanswered.

‘In my previous life, he’s the one who unearthed Cassandra and placed her on the throne, wasn’t he?’

Theo’s expression grew colder.

Bedok was one of the key architects behind the Great Calamity, a man whose machinations had plunged the continent into chaos.

If left unchecked, Bedok’s scheming could destabilize everything Theo had worked to secure.

Still, knowing his opponent’s nature was an advantage Theo could wield.

This time, it would be different.

Lezé interrupted Theo’s thoughts with a smirk.

“So? What’s the next move, Heavenly Dragon? Or do you just plan to keep collecting enemies until they all march to your doorstep?”

Theo’s response was calm but resolute.

“Let them come. I’ll cut them down, one by one.”

Lezé chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’re terrifying, you know that? Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

As the room returned to business, Theo’s mind remained sharp.

‘This time, Bedok won’t be the one pulling the strings. I’ll make sure of that.’