The front line between the Allied Forces and Pilurka continued to advance steadily after the initial probing attacks and the fortress infiltration incident.
With intelligence and supplies provided by the royal families, the elite Marines demonstrated the resilience and discipline of an early military force.
Yet the more fiercely the Marines fought, the less pleased Black Hawk Gars seemed.
In fact, he had started openly arguing with Im.
Unfortunately for him, Im's strategy had always been an open scheme.
There was no hidden trick to expose.
As for the royal families' personal guard units, they could no longer hide behind the front lines.
Driven by their desire to earn glory and by the invisible pressure Im exerted upon them, they were forced to contribute real results.
Of course, "real results" simply meant risking their lives.
Im had made it very clear.
If they continued slacking off in the rear, they might just happen to die in some nameless battle.
Cannons roared.
Energy beams clashed against primitive swords and Haki.
Every day, the front line crept forward.
Every moment, lives vanished.
And within this gigantic meat grinder of blood and steel...
One man was having an unusually comfortable time.
No quotation marks needed.
He was genuinely enjoying himself.
Ritter.
He played the role of "ally" perfectly.
Occasionally, he would lend a hand and deal with a difficult enemy that blocked the Allied Forces' advance.
However, whenever Ritter chose to act, he usually judged the "quality" of the target first.
The stronger their vitality, the more interested he became.
The rest of the time?
He remained in a state of supreme laziness.
A true master of doing absolutely nothing.
Everyone could tell Im had granted Ritter special privileges.
The Allied leadership was naturally furious about his blatant refusal to put in effort.
Several nobles even united to pressure Im into taking action.
Im's response was simple.
"If you wish to punish Ritter, go ahead."
"You have my permission."
After saying that, he ignored the matter entirely.
The nobles nearly coughed up blood.
That's not permission, that's abandonment!
If we could beat him, would we be asking you for help?
Faced with Im's tacit approval and Ritter's unfathomable strength, they could only swallow their anger.
What they didn't know...
Was that Ritter wasn't actually slacking off.
Not really.
He was more like a hardworking bee.
A very picky bee.
Except instead of gathering nectar...
He harvested life itself.
The battlefield's overflowing vitality reminded him of God Valley, back when he'd played the role of a little worker bee there as well.
Whenever a fierce battle ended and the smoke had yet to clear...
Whenever corpses littered the field...
Ritter would quietly appear at the edge of the battlefield.
He didn't need dramatic gestures.
He merely stood there.
A thin layer of blood mist spread silently around him.
To ordinary people, it looked harmless.
At a level no one else could perceive, however, something entirely different was happening.
If one wanted a simple comparison...
It resembled an evil cultivation formation from a fantasy novel.
Anyone who died within the formation fed energy to the person standing at its core.
And Ritter was that core.
Ritter grinned to himself.
"Come, help me break through my limits."
Countless strands of life energy that had just begun dispersing into the world...
Or were about to vanish completely...
Were drawn toward the blood mist like rivers flowing into the sea.
The anger of dying warriors.
Their regret.
Their despair.
Even their final moments of relief.
Ritter didn't care about any of that.
He only wanted the life energy.
And he accepted every bit of it without hesitation.
After all, his mysterious "VIP status" might expire one day.
The more energy he stored, the better.
Besides, he had discovered something interesting.
The temporal passage connecting him to his original era remained open.
As long as nobody threw things back through it, the timeline itself remained unaffected.
Simply put, the vitality Ritter consumed had originated from the era he came from.
That timeline already existed.
Which meant his expenditures were practically nonexistent.
With his eyes closed, he felt the barely noticeable growth of his power.
A pleasant sense of fullness spread through him.
A satisfied smile appeared on his face.
"Mmm..."
"This centurion's vitality is pretty pure."
"Got a bit of a berserker flavor to it."
"Nice."
"Tsk."
"These Divine Guard soldiers from Pilurka have messy energy signatures."
"Artificially enhanced through technology."
"Nowhere near as rich as natural cultivation."
"Though it's weird."
"They're practically walking chunks of metal, yet they still have life force."
"Damn."
"Have they started ascending into machines already?"
"Oh?"
"There's even some residual Devil Fruit energy over there."
"Weak, but still..."
He muttered to himself.
Harley sat nearby, quietly watching him ramble.
To Ritter, the war had ceased being a nuisance.
Instead, it had become an excellent supply station.
Death?
He had seen far too much of it.
The passing of life no longer stirred anything inside him.
If this energy wasn't collected, it would simply disperse back into the world.
If he could use it to strengthen himself instead...
Why not?
Years ago, when Ritter was only three years old, he might have said:
"Don't you feel bad?"
"Think about their families!"
Now?
His answer would be:
"Oh?"
"They had families?"
Occasionally, soldiers or officers spotted him standing among mountains of corpses.
Eyes closed.
A strange smile on his face.
Every single one of them instinctively felt a chill run down their spine.
They gave him a wide berth.
As a result, increasingly bizarre rumors about the "Mist Lord" Ritter spread throughout the Allied Forces.
Only Im seemed to notice the truth.
During one of his silent passes across the battlefield, he sensed the subtle flow of energy.
The white mask turned toward Ritter.
For a brief moment.
Then turned away again.
He made no comment.
Perhaps he understood exactly what Ritter was doing.
Perhaps he simply didn't care.
He might even have approved.
After all, a stronger ally would be more useful when the time came to storm Pilurka's capital.
As for what happened after the war...
That was a problem for later.
Ritter couldn't care less what anyone thought.
He continued doing things his own way.
Like a diligent farmer harvesting crops from a field of war.
The blood mist within him grew increasingly condensed.
And deep within his crimson eyes...
The will of destruction became even darker.
While gathering vitality, he waited.
Patiently.
For the day they finally breached Pilurka's royal capital.
There, he would find what he truly needed.
A solution to Harley's hidden problem.
And perhaps...
A few unexpected rewards as well.
The front line continued advancing.
Pilurka's fortress positions throughout the Blue Sea fell one after another.
Eventually, the Allied Forces arrived before the heart of the kingdom itself.
Pilurka's capital.
The magnificent city stood at the center of a vast basin, protected by a towering energy barrier.
Its metallic walls shimmered with unknown power.
Strange skyscraper-like structures rose toward the sky.
Every inch of the city radiated advanced technology.
This was undoubtedly the culmination of Pilurka's scientific achievements.
An impregnable fortress of steel.
Though Ritter knew something most people didn't.
The city hadn't existed much longer than he had.
The Allied army quickly completed its encirclement.
And surprisingly...
Everything went far too smoothly.
Aside from some token harassment attacks and automated defense systems around the outskirts...
The desperate, all-out resistance everyone had expected from Pilurka never appeared.
That was also why the Allied Forces had reached the capital so quickly.
Which only made Ritter narrow his eyes.
Because it was...
Too easy.
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