# EP41. Never Forgotten
Ivan the Great's numerous titles and nicknames were established before the Great War. Unless one had slain a Dragon Lord, the war against demon-kind was hardly leisurely enough to allow for the bestowing of nicknames.
At age 12, he joined his first military campaign as Crown Prince. Leading only 2,000 cavalry, he achieved victory in five battles. This earned him the title "The Great One."
At age 15, his father, who had intended to pass the throne to a bastard son, was poisoned "by someone," and Ivan ascended to the throne. He became the rightful monarch of Krasilov.
At age 17, he faced regional rebels who sought to exploit the young king's limited authority. Leading only the Royal Guard without support from Krasilov's military, he executed the rebel leader within ten days, earning the name "The Bear."
At age 21, he nearly doubled Krasilov's territory, becoming "The War-Obsessed."
At age 27, he pushed back most neighboring countries and seized the entire northern region of human civilization, becoming "The Feared One."
At age 32, he drove all neighboring countries except powerful nations like Tilles and Droan to the south, establishing modern borders and earning the title "Thunder Emperor."
At age 45, he joined the frontlines immediately when the Great War began. As he continued fighting the demon forces, he became known as "The Bloodshedder."
Finally, at age 64, when intelligence failures caused them to miss a Dragon Lord's position, he attempted an interception with the Royal Guard when demon forces suddenly attacked five exposed territories, buying time for all civilians to evacuate.
Until all exposed territories completed their retreat. Of the 3,000 Royal Guards and 3,000 loyalist troops, barely 200 survived.
After the operation, those who returned alive carried his body to be laid to rest in Pritzenkaya, where he received his final title:
"The Great."
"Little" Ivan sometimes recalls. With just 30 soldiers, he slew the Dragon Lord Aviditas. But that was with thorough training, meticulous preparation and rehearsal, and an ambush at a time and place of their choosing.
Yet his predecessor, when ambushed without any intelligence, essentially ordered his entire unit to commit suicide, leading them to march against a Dragon Lord without a single desertion.
And ultimately succeeded in "accomplishing the mission objective."
Simply put.
He was just. Inherently strong.
Isabelle stared blankly at the skeletons walking beside them like escorts. About five hundred skeletons moved silently.
It was truly a "silent" movement. Skeletal soldiers are extremely lightweight. However, lacking body structures to buffer noise, their movements should naturally produce friction sounds.
Yet the skeletons surrounding their party moved without making any sound whatsoever.
Even in a situation where they walked armed with weapons, not even the minimal noise of sword hilts hitting bone could be heard.
It felt almost unreal, as if all forces except their party were mere illusions.
"Click."
A skeleton on one side raised its finger and made a sound. With hand signals, five or six skeletal soldiers instantly descended into the underground waterway.
Looking elsewhere, another skeleton was directing soldiers with different hand signals. They soon ran to a corner of the main road and disappeared.
A skeleton monitoring from atop a wall gestured, and another five or six vanished.
And then, they silently returned and rejoined the formation as if nothing had happened.
Seeing the blood and mud on their weapons, it wasn't difficult to guess what had transpired.
"I'm getting a bit scared now."
Yulia nodded quietly at Isabelle's words.
Each skeleton here was essentially a "soldier version" of Ivan. They disappeared matter-of-factly to clean the surrounding route, then returned.
The movement of the formation was essentially a cleaning operation. They were eliminating every potential threat along the long route from the old Intelligence Command building in the distant outskirts to the Krasilov palace.
They cleaned every alleyway, secured every visible entrance to the underground waterways, rejoined, and marched forward.
Occasionally, wandering zombies now clearly recognized them as enemies and swarmed like a wall in desperate attacks, but—
"Crack."
"Crunch."
In a battle between the dead, there were no screams or noise.
When zombies charged silently, skeletons crushed them without reply.
Like a siege hammer shattering a gate, no—like an arrowhead cutting through silk. These 500 troops simply carved a path toward the royal palace with mechanical dryness.
Steadily forward, without rushing.
Yet with movements too unfeeling to believe they were human.
Like precise machinery in operation. Becoming war machines focused solely on slaughter.
"If this place resembles the demon realm environment," Enrique approached the party with a smile and said, "then they've spent their entire lives there. It must feel like coming home."
The Krasilov Royal Mausoleum was built for just one person. Under Kirill's reign, his royal authority was essentially inherited from his father's achievements, so King Kirill had to invest enormous resources to build the mausoleum despite post-war poverty.
Thus, the Royal Guard who fell fighting the Dragon Lords and the previous king were laid to rest in the best environment this country could provide.
Under a dome modeled exactly after the throne room, in a place where sunlight would shine directly when the sun rose, a man lay with his hands folded over his chest.
With near-perfect embalming and sealing that preserved his appearance at death, and wearing his restored sword and armor that he used in life, the king looked peaceful, as if sleeping.
[Do it. Now!]
Robed men all stretched out their hands. Purple magical energy penetrated the sleeping king.
Neither the seals surrounding his body nor the sacred objects on the altar could stop them. Since the moment holy power disappeared, this mausoleum had lost its minimal protection.
The sleeping king's fingers twitched.
[We've succeeded, master!]
A magician looked up with a bright smile. This spell was prepared with more delicacy and precision than simply raising an ordinary corpse.
Unlike summoning zombies or skeletons, this was a spell prepared with thoroughness comparable to resurrecting a Death Knight.
Even amid serious human resistance, their master had personally ordered this. The magicians felt cold sweat that shouldn't be possible for them as they completed the spell.
The king opened his cloudy eyes with a twitch. His gaze slowly turned to the nearby magician.
[Rise, rise and serve your rightful master. Cut down all who invade your master's domain.]
The magician approached, whispering commands to this "carefully crafted" undead.
The king's gaze surveyed the surroundings. The magicians' spells were connected to his body. A powerful will was surging in, and his mind, dimmed by long death, was rippling and shaking his soul.
His gaze returned to the magician standing nearby.
The king opened his mouth.
"Crack."
But before that, a greatsword severed the magician's head.
[What—?!]
The magicians were collectively shocked. Since the beheaded magician was also a high-level vampire, he quickly regained his posture and began regenerating.
The spell had surely succeeded, hadn't it? Amid the magician's tension and confusion, the king spoke his first words since revival.
"I serve no one."
[S-stop him!!]
Above the deep moat of Pritzenkaya's inner castle, all drawbridges were raised.
Knights standing on the inner castle walls could be seen looking down at them. All were undead. And Ivan could recognize their faces.
Knights of the Royal Guard. Entombed together in the mausoleum... His former seniors and comrades were looking down at him with cold faces.
"The spell quality is different," Enrique muttered quietly, looking at the inner castle.
This was a spell of an entirely different dimension from those that raised mere zombies or those hastily used against the Annihilation Squad during their escape.
This was the kind of spell meticulously prepared to raise Death Knights. By demon army standards, it was comparable to what one of Aviditas's legion commanders would create after thorough preparation.
Miracles are called miracles because they don't happen twice. No matter how great individuals were, they couldn't maintain their living rationality when raised by techniques built on malice.
The knights held their swords with dry eyes, preparing for battle. Since most of their limbs were intact and even their musculature was preserved, their skills would not differ much from when they were alive.
Ivan placed his hand on his axe handle in silence. His tendons writhed like snakes, and the solid axe handle trembled as if about to break under his grip.
"Calm down. We expected this."
"Mm."
Enrique patted his shoulder as she spoke.
The news that the Royal Guard knights had risen meant the mausoleum had already been violated.
Which meant the previous king had also fallen into their hands. They were probably preparing for this even as they attacked the Intelligence Command headquarters.
Enrique felt extreme guilt.
This offensive was essentially aimed precisely at her alone. That meant if she hadn't been in this city, their eternal rest would not have been disturbed.
"We're too unprepared for a siege. Should I try to breach the gate?" asked Elfihera as she began preparing a spell.
Enrique smiled and stopped her. "We're not going to besiege, Elfi."
"What? But..."
"We infiltrate."
As Enrique finished speaking, the skeletons who had been observing the walls and sending hand signals all scattered, dissolving into the darkness.
[The walls have been breached! Master, you must return!!]
[What about him?]
[We've barely managed to control him... but it's not easy. Master, with our abilities...]
[Buy more time.]
In darkness flowing with dark green magical energy, a vampire quietly stretched out his hand.
A relic that once controlled all undead slowly rose into the air, emitting light.
[Having obtained the power of two Dragon Lords, if I defeat him now—]
I will surpass the Demon King.
In this age when gods are dead, this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—
I will become the god of the undead and avenge "Father."
[Maximillian—!]
As Olega's only legitimate bloodline, I will elevate his lineage to the most exalted position in this world.
And I will cut off that man's head and display it on the altar.