Chapter 8
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 8
Lying flat on my back, I stared up at the night sky. Stars twinkled over the shoulder of the dead Imperial Guardsman who knelt beside me.
I had never seen a night sky so clear. It was a sight impossible to behold in Akbaran, the imperial capital.
The stars were truly beautiful.
Perhaps this view would be the last thing I ever saw. A cold shiver had been running through me for a while now. As soon as the adrenaline of battle faded, pain and death came rushing in like a mountain of debt collected all at once.
"Ha, damn it."
Only then did I notice the long gash torn into my side. Blood was gushing out. One wrong move, and my guts would spill onto the ground.
My body was in no condition to move on its own. I tried to press down on the wound with my shattered hand.
Click, whir.
My mangled fingers weren't cooperating. It felt like I'd only tear the wound wider if I kept trying. Forget it, damn it.
I blinked. Whether I lived or died, the stars kept on shining. Somewhere beyond that sea of stars lay Earth, where our ancestors once lived.
Step. Step.
I heard footsteps. Straining my neck, I looked ahead. There was another survivor besides me. I managed a weak smile.
"You're alive, Luka."
Ilay, missing one of his arms, staggered toward me.
"What about the others?"
Ilay slowly shook his head.
"Sliced in half. Vertically, horizontally—didn't matter."
The Holy Knight's sword qi must have caught them dead-on. Only Ilay and I had made it out.
He stood over me, staring down at the dead Imperial Guardsman kneeling at my side, then shoved the corpse over.
"...Luka, your wounds are bad. You'll die at this rate."
"Don't need you telling me that."
Ilay looked me over, but his expression was strange. His eyes kept flicking east.
Right. Ilay Kartika. Your heart's pulling you that way. This is the perfect opportunity. Marked missing in action, no loose ends to tie up. Wouldn't be strange at all if they never found a body.
"Luka, I..."
Ilay squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. He turned to stare east. I understood exactly what that look meant. Our Empire lay to the west. To the east: the territories of Kora and Bellato.
Ilay had always wanted to leave the Empire. He'd never said it outright, but I'd known.
"If you're going, go quickly. Don't waste time trying to patch me up. Backup will be here soon."
I watched him from where I lay. His eyes were hazy as he looked at me, then he looked away.
Step.
Ilay walked past me. His footsteps faded into the distance.
I couldn't understand him—his thoughts, his choices. He had talent and a background any Imperial subject would kill for. His future was practically guaranteed.
And yet Ilay was ready to throw it all away and abandon the Empire.
No matter how I turn it over in my head, I can't understand you, Ilay.
But I could respect it. I wanted him to live by his own will, whatever that cost him.
If I was lucky, I'd hold out until backup arrived.
If not, it's a one-way ticket to the afterlife.
I steadied my breathing, closing and opening my eyes, staring at the stars. It wasn't a terrible way to go.
Step. Step.
The footsteps that had faded were growing louder again. A laugh slipped out of me, tangled with a sigh. Ah—laughing hurt.
"What are you doing, you idiot?"
I said, looking up at Ilay as he returned. He knelt down and pressed a hand hard against my bleeding side, working fast.
"Guess I really am an idiot, just like you said." He gave a bitter smile.
* * *
After being transported back to the Empire, I was summoned here and there the moment I recovered. It seemed the higher-ups considered this ruins reconnaissance mission a serious matter.
High-ranking officials—titles alone enough to give me a headache—came to hear my report. They rattled off complicated political talk right in front of me like I wasn't even there. Diplomatic friction with the Kora Holy Nation, back and forth, back and forth.
One Imperial Guardsman had died. Three cadets had died with him. But that wasn't what caused the uproar. The death of an Imperial soldier was a daily occurrence, nothing worth losing sleep over.
I was flipping through a catalog of cybernetic products. What I had attached now were temporary prosthetics—not calibrated for combat output, only good enough to get through daily life. The drop in performance was so severe it felt like I was dragging shackles around.
"An artifact was found in the ruins we went to. There's a lot of talk about who gets to claim it," Ilay said.
As expected of a scion from a prestigious family, he was well-informed about all kinds of affairs. He seemed to overhear things nobody else did.
An Arcane Artifact.
I remembered the cube spinning in the center of the ruins. I'd thought it strange at the time, but I hadn't realized it was an artifact.
"What about recovery?"
"They're assembling a team of experts. For now, the Imperial Guard is holding the ruins. Makes sense—some artifacts qualify as national strategic resources..."
Ilay went on about the artifact for a while. I had zero interest, so it went in one ear and out the other.
"...If the Holy Nation doesn't back off the ruins and the artifact, there could be a fairly large clash. Won't escalate to all-out war, though."
All-out war was something every nation avoided like the plague.
The Akresia Empire. The Kora Holy Nation. The Bellato Federation.
If two of them went to full war, the third would reap the benefits. So each nation kept things to localized skirmishes, losses they could manage.
None of this had much to do with me. Well—it did affect me, but I had no interest in the politics of it. In the end, it was business for the high and mighty.
I just had to fight when ordered. That's what it meant to be an Imperial soldier. A grunt.
The Imperial Guard...
I thought about the one who'd died in the ruins. Even with his head blown clean off, he'd kept moving like a phantom.
'A phantom phenomenon caused by residual signals.'
That was the Imperial Guard Captain's dismissal when he heard my report. Predictable. And not the answer I wanted.
He listened to me. He reacted, even after death. That wasn't some residual-signal phantom.
The question sat unresolved in my chest. But I wasn't foolish enough to dig into something the higher-ups had already refused to explain.
I sat there, lost in thought, without turning a single page of the catalog.
"Luka, I'd recommend the F-24 Reus Model for the arm. Short adaptation period, quick recovery, and the performance should beat what you had before."
Ilay leaned in, tapping the catalog.
I glanced at him. Perfectly composed. He'd chosen to save my life over running away from the Empire.
"Ilay, you..."
"I don't regret it. You're worth it to me."
He answered before I even finished, reading the question in my face. I didn't say anything more.
* * *
It was around the time I was getting used to my new prosthetic arm and leg.
I stepped into an unfamiliar room.
Bright, pleasant—rare for a cadet training facility. The walls were a warm white, potted plants scattered across the shelves. Sunlight streamed through glass windows, bright enough that no artificial lighting was needed.
The visitation room.
A place where a cadet's family and acquaintances could visit. For someone like me, raised in an orphanage, it was a place I had no connection to whatsoever.
"Well..."
I scratched the back of my neck, staring ahead, not sure what to say. Sitting across from me was a young girl who'd come to see me.
I already knew who she was.
Lillian Ramones.
Younger sister of Claude Ramones, who'd died not long ago.
She was still in black mourning clothes. Sensing me, she stood. Her half-lidded eyes gave off a languid, unhurried impression.
"This isn't... our first time meeting, is it?"
She spoke carefully. I nodded and sat down across from her.
"I saw you at Claude's funeral."
Uncomfortable didn't begin to cover it. I'd been the leader of the mission Claude died on.
Even if she blames me, the least I can do is accept it.
Bracing myself, I waited for her to speak. Lillian studied me quietly.
"I heard a lot about you from Claude, Luka."
That threw me. I tilted my head.
"About me?"
"He said he had a very capable friend among his peers. Asked if I'd be interested in dating you."
Claude had tried to set us up. He must have mentioned me to her more than once.
"Do you know my background?"
"That's actually better."
I was even more confused. Someone like Lillian Ramones could easily marry into a family far above mine. In an Empire this vast, there were countless men with better connections and better prospects than me.
"What do you mean, better?"
"It cuts out the unnecessary formalities between us. What about you?"
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.
Her directness made me even more uneasy. A battlefield raining bullets would've been more comfortable than this conversation.
"I don't know much about you, Lillian."
The most polite rejection I could manage. Conversations like this didn't suit me—already my tongue itched with the effort of it.
"Then why not get to know each other, starting now? I don't know much about you either."
This woman was no pushover. Relaxed on the surface, but persistent underneath. If I tried shaking her off too hard, it felt like she'd walk away with a piece of my flesh still in her grip.
"...I need time to think."
"I think it's a good deal for you too. Plenty of men would envy it."
I flinched. A deal others would envy...
Thinking it over, she wasn't wrong. This was a chance to connect with a woman from a prestigious family.
If I wanted to rise in this world, I needed connections and the backing of a powerful house. Lillian could give me that.
It's ideal.
Any man in my position would want a woman like her.
...But that's what others would want. Not what I wanted.
Ilay Kartika came to mind, unbidden. Born with everything anyone could envy, and still trying to escape the Empire. I'd always thought it was an incredibly foolish thing to do.
So this is what it feels like.
Turning down Lillian's proposal was a foolish move. But right now, foolish was exactly what I wanted to be.
"Luka?"
She tilted her head, watching me. I gave her my answer.
"I decline."
Blunt. No cushioning, no flowery language. For the first time, her eyes wavered—clearly, a thousand thoughts were running through her head too.
Scrape.
I stood from my seat. If she felt insulted, there wasn't much I could do about it. If I'd tried to reject her gently, softly, it felt like she'd have clung to me forever.
Grab!
Lillian caught my wrist. Her grip was startlingly strong.
"I suppose I rushed things, Luka."
"No, it's—"
She cut me off with a smile.
"Let's start as friends, then. I'll come see you again."
She released my wrist and turned, walking out of the visitation room before I could even respond.
"...She's not easy."
I muttered. A difficult woman, in more ways than one.