The Transmigrated Villain Claims the Heroines!

Chapter 42: Ravenhold

The aircraft descended through the rain, rotors slicing through the downpour as the fortress of Ravenhold grew larger beneath them. The stench of blood and wet fur hit Anastasia first, then the sound: the ceaseless roar of beasts, the cracked gunfire, the shouted commands of officers trying to hold the line.

Edward stepped off first, his boots splashing into a puddle of rainwater and something darker. He didn’t flinch. He’d been doing this for years.

"This way," he said, gesturing for Anastasia to follow. "Rerick’s on the eastern rampart. He arrived just before dawn."

Anastasia fell into step beside him, her eyes scanning the walls as they walked. Every few feet, there was a fresh spray of blood, a discarded rifle, a soldier being dragged toward the medical tents.

"You lose this many every day?" she asked, keeping her voice even.

"Some days are worse."

They climbed a set of stone stairs slick with rain, emerging onto the eastern rampart.

Rerick was there, standing near the edge with his greatsword planted in front of him. He was younger than she’d expected, maybe mid-twenties, with a lean build, sharp features, short dark brown hair, and steel-gray eyes.

His armor was new, still bearing the gleam of fresh forge work. His hands were wrapped around the sword’s hilt, knuckles white, and he was staring down at the horde below with an expression that did a poor job of hiding his nerves.

He turned when he heard their footsteps.

"You must be Anastasia," he said, his voice steady but tight. "Edward mentioned you’d be arriving today."

"Rerick." She nodded toward the wall. "How bad is it?"

He looked back at the seething mass of beasts below, then at the soldiers scrambling along the rampart, then back at her.

"Honestly?" He exhaled. "I’ve never seen anything like this. Where I came from, we dealt with stragglers. Packs of five or six. Maybe a dozen on a bad day." He gestured toward the horizon, where more beasts were emerging from the treeline in waves. "This is..."

"Overwhelming," Anastasia finished.

"Yeah." He didn’t try to hide it. "But we’re here now. Both of us. So I guess we figure it out together."

Edward stepped between them, looking out over the wall. "Enough talk. The horde isn’t going to wait for you two to get comfortable."

Rerick pulled his sword from the stone, the blade scraping as it came free. He glanced at Anastasia, and there was no arrogance in his eyes, just a quiet acknowledgment.

"Try to keep up," he said.

"I was going to say the same to you."

For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then Rerick’s mouth twitched into something almost like a smile.

"Fair enough."

Below, a fresh wave of beasts broke from the treeline, larger than the last, their eyes glowing red in the gray morning light.

Rerick cracked his neck and raised his sword. "Well," he said. "Guess we’ll see what we’re made of."

SLASH!

The two of them were caught off guard by the sudden noise. When they looked back at Edward, they saw him cleave through three beasts at once, his longsword covered in blood while his armor remained pristine and clean.

That alone made any doubt about his skill immediately disappear.

"Don’t guess, do it. You two work together; I’ll handle the areas where you’re lacking."

Rerick didn’t need to be told twice.

He turned from the rampart and strode toward the stairs, his greatsword resting against his shoulder. "I’ll take the eastern gate. The walls there have been taking the heaviest hits."

Anastasia followed, her daggers already in hand. "I’ll cover the western section. The reports said the beasts have been trying to flank around the towers."

Edward nodded, his longsword still dripping from the beasts he’d cut down just moments ago. "I’ll remain here at the central command. If either of you gets overwhelmed, send word. Don’t be a hero."

"No danger of that," Rerick muttered, already descending the stairs. "I plan on living long enough to collect my pay."

Anastasia shot Edward a look before she left. "He’s greener than I expected."

"He’ll learn." Edward turned back to the battlefield, his eyes scanning the horizon. "We all did."

From the central command post, Edward could see the full scope of the battle. The walls held for now, but cracks were beginning to show. Soldiers were being rotated out faster than usual, their faces pale with exhaustion. The medical tents were overflowing.

He watched as Rerick reached the eastern gate, shouting orders to the soldiers stationed there. The young general moved with confidence, positioning his men, reinforcing weak points. Not bad for someone who’d only arrived that morning.

On the western section, Anastasia was already making her mark. She didn’t shout. She didn’t need to. Her presence alone seemed to steady the soldiers around her, and Edward noted the way she assessed the battlefield with cold, calculating eyes.

She’d seen war before. That much was clear.

"General Edward!"

A messenger sprinted toward him, breathless and soaked through.

"Report."

"A B-Class Magical Beast has been spotted three hours away, with four packs of C-Classes flanking it."

Edward’s expression didn’t change, but deep inside, a small doubt stirred. This wasn’t the first time they had dealt with something like this; in fact, it should have been just another ordinary day for him and the entire capital.

But that was when Cassian had been with them.

By now, this would be the fifth time he’d had to handle a situation like this. And the previous four hadn’t exactly been clean victories.

’My lord... I hope you know what you are doing.’

"Have the planes survey the area and drop mines. We’ll weaken it before it reaches our location."

"Yes, general!"

The messenger vanished into the rain-soaked chaos, and Edward turned his attention back to the battlefield. His jaw was set, his grip on his longsword steady, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there a year ago.

Back then, with Cassian at the front, the beasts had broken against their walls like waves against a cliff. The Duke’s presence alone had been enough to steady the men, to turn the tide of even the most hopeless engagements.

Now, Edward had to do it himself.

He watched the planes lift from the eastern airfield, their propellers cutting through the downpour as they banked toward the treeline. Mines would slow the B-Class beast, maybe even injure it if they were lucky. But it wouldn’t stop it.

Nothing ever stopped them completely.