The Imperial Supreme Commander Has Returned - Chapter 40

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Empire’s Supreme Commander Returns — Episode 40

“Long time no see, Your Eminence.”
“You wretch……!”

Delam greeted him with an oily smile.
He’d first met Nuark when Delam was thirty years old.
That would have made Nuark somewhere in his sixties.
So the last time they’d met, Nuark was in his eighties—and now Delam found himself staring at that aged face superimposed over these youthful features.

He was certain.
Not that the reaction left much room for doubt anyway.

“You were younger back then, weren’t you?”
“You shameless dog!”
“Come now—we’re both growing old together. Surely you can spare a courteous word.”
“Shut it and drink your tea.”

Nuark thrust the teacup forward with blazing eyes.
It was a violent gesture, yet not a single drop spilled.
Watching such a thing, what could one even say?
This man’s nature simply could not turn wicked.

‘Perhaps that’s why he earned the title of Saint.’

And yet the reason he’d become a Cardinal was simple enough.
He couldn’t abide confinement.
The Pope remained in the Holy See, sheltered and protected.
So he’d settled for the Cardinal’s seat instead—a position that left him free to roam.

“So to summarize, Your Eminence—you didn’t Regress along with me. You only received the memories? A month ago?”
“Precisely. A miracle granted by the God of Light.”
“Hmm.”

Delam touched his chin thoughtfully.
He understood the transfer of memories well enough.
But why a month ago specifically?
Right around the time Delam would come looking for him?

There would have been no harm in giving them earlier.
Or better yet, why not simply regress him along with me? That would’ve solved everything cleanly.
I wouldn’t have needed to strain my mind wrestling with all this.

Which meant this wasn’t the God of Light’s intention.
A Trigger of some kind must have been required to grant the memories.

“Was there anything unusual a month ago?”
“Nothing. I was doing as I always do—reading Scripture and offering prayers.”

If not Nuark, then could it be because of him?
Truth be told, much had changed since his Regression.
Especially in temporal terms.
The war with Shambala, which had dragged on for nearly four years, had ended in less than half that time thanks to Delam’s intervention.

From the Continent’s historical perspective, it was a seismic shift.
Perhaps that’s what had triggered Nuark’s memories to return?

But then the timing still felt off.
The war had ended fifteen days ago, not a month.

Of course, the course of the war was settled around that time.
By Delam’s destruction of the Altar.

‘Could it be… that I ate that fruit?’

Back then, Delam had swallowed the Fruit of the Altar whole.
After that, his Spirit Power increased, and he gained the owl as well.

‘A branch point in the world?’

Delam understood it instinctively.
By eating the fruit at that time, the world before the Regression and the world now had become completely divergent.
In other words, Delam’s reckless action had brought far greater change to the world than the war’s premature conclusion.

‘But what on earth was that fruit?’

Curiosity seized him anew.
When he obtained the Divine Branch, he’d learned it was the remains of a powerful being.
But that a fruit could alter the timeline itself…
The mystery was maddening.

‘So the God of Light isn’t omnipotent after all.’

And there was one more fact he could glean from this.
The God of Light’s power itself.
He’d suspected it from the fact that the God of Light hadn’t personally destroyed the demons, but it seemed the deity’s actions were subject to considerable constraint.
Even granting memories to Nuark required careful consideration of branch points and world lines.

Perhaps it was because of Delam.
The Regression might have consumed so much power that limitations arose.

“In any case, you’re the one who sent me back. That much is clear.”
“There was originally a different target.”
“Who?”
“The top priority was the Emperor—Leosachs II. Before your final battle, the Imperial Palace had already been breached. All his children were slaughtered, and he himself had fallen into a pig’s pen, reduced to a beast.”
“A sound plan.”

Delam nodded in agreement.
The Emperor’s reason for conquering the Continent was simple enough.
It began with ambition for power, but changed partway through.
Stopping the war would have meant the Empire’s immediate collapse.
War called forth more war—a mire from which there was no escape.

But if the Emperor were sent to the past?
This time, he wouldn’t have launched the conquest at all.
He’d have known full well that demons would invade.

Moreover, the Emperor was the nexus of power itself.
If he wished to survive, he would certainly use that power to cultivate talent and raise soldiers to hold back the demons.

Truly the optimal choice!
Yet somehow, it was Delam who returned.

“But why did I come back instead?”
“That is…”

Nuark began to answer, then trembled violently.
His deeply flushed face was not from anger.
It was shame and guilt that showed through.
Why, you ask?―

“Because of you.”
“What did I do now?”
“You were grinning so damn mockingly as you died! You told the rest of us to keep suffering, to work ourselves to the bone. So in a moment of weakness, I begged—I asked for you to be sent back, to endure that hardship yourself…….”
“Wow.”

Delam whistled softly, almost admiringly.
He himself wasn’t entirely sane, but Nuark was no better.
No—with the last hope of the world in hand, to do such a thing. By any measure, wasn’t Nuark humanity’s true criminal?

“To cast humanity’s future into the gutter over a moment of heat—truly worthy of being cherished by the God of Light.”
“Ugh… Truth be told, there was no other choice. I was too old back then to sneak into where the Emperor was confined.”
“So you need to be close to your target to send them back through Regression?”
“Yes. I sought you out to ask for your help meeting the Emperor. I meant to have you open the path for me…….”
“But I’d already suffered a dog’s defeat, there were no survivors to aid me, and when it seemed I couldn’t reach the Emperor, you got irritated that I was just sitting around, saw I had some capability, and sent me back to the past instead?”
“Precisely…….”

Nuark spoke quietly, his voice heavy with regret.
Delam let out a soft laugh and offered what comfort he could.

“Cardinal, you only received the memories. There’s no need to carry such guilt. It wasn’t even your own doing.”
…….
“More importantly, we must think of the future now. Let’s discuss what concerns it. Do you grasp the general situation?”
“Let me explain what I remember…….”

Nuark began recounting what lived in his memory.
Delam listened carefully, cross-referencing it with his own recollection.
Once he’d heard it all, his conclusion was―

‘Rather muddled.’

He’d suspected as much from the beginning, when Nuark said he’d only received memories.
The God of Light’s power was incomplete.
Therefore, the memories themselves couldn’t be whole.
As expected, the memories Nuark had received were sparse and scattered—more the skeleton of a life’s narrative than the life itself.

Think of it like reading a five-hundred-page book.
If Delam had read every page from the first to the five-hundredth, Nuark knew only the overall plot and chapter titles.

Still, he knew what mattered.
How the kingdom unified the Continent and became the Empire. How countless lives were spilled in that process. How nearly every Hero was sacrificed in turn.
Then came the demons’ invasion, and humanity fell.

“Roughly correct. The God of Light showed you all there was to know.”
“A relief, then.”
“So answer me this—do you truly believe humanity’s ruin was my fault? That I murdered all the Heroes?”
“That’s―”

Nuark shook his head immediately.
He’d been angry when they met, yes, but that was more a reflexive response to the implanted memory than anything genuine.
It was like channeling the rage of his pre-Regression self—the fury of an eighty-year-old man, filtered through his present consciousness.

But Nuark was forty now.
His mind wasn’t calcified. His thinking wasn’t stale or hidebound.
And when this Nuark considered it carefully, humanity’s extinction was…….
decidedly not Delam’s doing.

Suppose Delam had never existed.
Would the Emperor truly have abandoned his conquest?
Nuark was skeptical.

“…The end would have been much the same, I think. If I’m to curse anyone, it should be the Emperor of that time. And the nobles who didn’t stop him either.”
“I’m glad we can understand each other. To be honest, you before the Regression were… how do I put it? A bit crusty. You wouldn’t listen to anything I said. The moment I tried to speak, you’d come at me with your staff, thrashing away.”
“Ahem, well, in your eighties, that’s not entirely out of the question.”
“In any case, let’s try to get along in this life. I exhausted everything I could do and enjoy before the Regression, so I don’t harbor any great interest in power or status or such things.”
“Then?”
“What else is there but crushing those demons?”
“I agree. To do that, we need―”

Nuark began to explain.
A plan meticulously crafted over a month of silent prayer.

Still, the gist was simple.
Prevent war, save the Heroes, stand against the demons!
Strengthen humanity’s power!

Yet Delam’s expression was oddly troubled.
In truth, Delam had entertained similar thoughts at first.
But after the war with Shambala, something had shifted.

Among humans, hardly anyone had ever fought demons.
No—at this moment, Delam was the only one.

The demons were not ordinary creatures.
An utterly alien species, bearing no resemblance whatsoever to the people of the Continent.
And above all… they were formidable.

Before the Regression, Delam had mobilized the Empire’s entire military.
Of course, to suppress possible rebellions erupting across the realm, both numbers and quality were barely a tenth of their peacetime peak, though still elite.
And how many demons had he killed with them?

‘Shamefully few to even speak of……’

So Delam opened his mouth.
To voice a doubt he’d harbored all along.

“But here’s the thing.”
“What is it?”
“Have you ever considered whether the demons could have been stopped if all the Heroes had survived? That thought ever cross your mind?”

Delam paused, choosing his words carefully.

“They were all defeated by me anyway.”
……!”

* * *

“What the hell… huh?”

Nuark began an oath, then caught himself.
On second thought, there was something discomfortingly accurate about what Delam had said.

The supreme Commander-in-Chief of the Empire.
Such a man had led his elite to a pitched battle against the demons.
But the result had been overwhelming defeat.

Suppose the Heroes had joined forces with him.
Could they have won?

Of course, Heroes were extraordinarily remarkable beings.
Magic, martial arts, sorcery, stratagem—you name it.
They had reached the pinnacle in every conceivable field.
But here’s the thing…….
If they were truly that formidable, would they have died at Delam’s hand in the first place?

“That is… unknowable. Besides, regardless of the outcome, it’s always better to have more Heroes.”
“Who says so?”
“Not who says so—it’s simply—”
“There is no certainty in this world. I thought that once I unified the Continent and retired, I could rest in peace. And the result?”
“As I understand it, you were living in leisure, tending a garden behind your estate, when the demon invasion dragged you back to the Imperial Palace.”
“There is no absolute in this world.”

Delam opened his mouth.
Why was the mere abundance of Heroes no guarantee of anything?

“For starters, Heroes are fundamentally bastards.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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