Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Once Upon a Time (1)
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The sniveling kid from the carriage was gone.
Now he gazed at me with a languid face, his eyes so utterly dry that my neck stiffened involuntarily.
"I haven't figured it out that far yet."
I'd barely grasped that the younger of the two was the real deal. The true identity of the noble remained a complete mystery.
"Urgh."
Just then, a groan sounded, and the middle-aged man strapped to the horse stirred to life.
His expression was sharp and clear now, a total contrast to the dazed, headache-complaining act from moments ago.
"My acting was flawless. So it wasn't because of me that you caught on."
"If keeping your eyes shut the whole time counts as acting."
"Anyway, it wasn't."
The noble clicked his tongue at the middle-aged man once before turning back to me.
"You predicted this too, huh."
I didn't bother answering.
I knew better than to flaunt half-baked insights in front of highborn types. It was a fool's errand.
"Just as that child said."
Seemingly taking my silence as confirmation, the noble gave a faint smile.
It wasn't genuine satisfaction—more like a habit.
Everything about him felt that way.
Like an emotionless doll mimicking human behavior. Exactly that vibe.
What the hell is he?
"Since you asked about me, now it's my turn to ask."
The noble spoke again.
"You didn't pursue them. Didn't even take prisoners. You killed every last one. Plenty of reason to interrogate at least a few, no?"
I flinched inwardly but played it cool.
"I'm just a stiff-necked soldier focused on the mission. Didn't think that far ahead. At the time, even getting out of there took all my brainpower..."
"No. That's not it."
But he shot me down before I could finish.
"That's not the reason."
His eyes, staring straight at me, were unnaturally clear.
"You were afraid they'd spill the whole story. Scared you'd get dragged too deep into this mess. So you slaughtered them all on the spot, not leaving a single survivor."
His gaze pierced right through me. I couldn't muster a rebuttal.
Trying some lame lie would've been worse.
"So let's hear it."
He pressed me.
"You've been desperate to keep your distance. Why ask about my identity now? I'm curious."
I pondered for a moment.
I had no clue what he really was, but one thing was certain.
Whatever his identity, this kid was no ordinary brat.
Sure, some pampered nobles grew up thinking and acting like adults early on. And plenty of jaded old aristocrats wore that same bored expression.
But I'd swear on my life I'd never seen anyone his age with both traits.
"Because this attack means heavy losses ahead."
"Oh? And why do you think that? Weren't you the brave soul who routed those who annihilated the royal troops in one go?"
"The enemy knows that too. If they come at us again anyway."
Then it means they've prepared accordingly.
It was open flatland—no terrain for an ambush anywhere.
Even if they found a spot by sheer luck, frozen-stiff bodies couldn't fight worth a damn.
If they attacked now, it'd be a head-on charge, not some ambush.
To go toe-to-toe frontally with Bluecoats—Thracia's, no, the continent's top breakthrough force—takes serious firepower.
And this was 15th Legion territory.
If the fight dragged on, we'd have the edge no question.
The 15th wasn't incompetent. They wouldn't ignore a scrap in their own backyard.
"The resolve and forces to smash us head-on before 15th Legion reinforcements arrive."
Probably not overwhelming numbers—more like elite few.
"To face that, we'd have to throw our lives away."
So I had to check, like it or not.
Which of these two I was meant to protect.
"Protect me. Even if everyone else here dies, as long as I survive, we win."
And just like that, my protectee was clear.
"Give me a moment."
I excused myself and turned away.
"What the hell..."
Jamal and the Bluecoats stared at me.
They couldn't follow our exchange, confusion etched on their faces.
Too bad—this wasn't the time to explain.
"We're splitting the unit here."
They seemed to get that much, not pressing with questions. Just solemn faces, listening intently.
"Bluecoats and clowns stay here."
"Wait? Not leaving the clowns alone?"
"From here, I'm going solo."
"Lieutenant!"
Jamal went pale and shouted.
"I don't know what you're thinking, but at least let us come! Whatever's ahead, we can break through if we keep our mobility!"
The other Bluecoats chimed in eagerly, backing him up.
"No. They've accounted for our breakthrough power and mobility."
"Then there's even less reason to split up. Better to stick together tight and wait for 15th Legion reinforcements..."
I shook my head.
Nice if we could hold out that long, but odds were against it.
Pretty sure they had a mage over there.
Not many ways to counter Bluecoat mobility and breakthrough—mages were the surest bet.
Almost certain.
Besides the iron stench, a new smell had started drifting on the wind.
A sharp, acrid sulfur reek that stung the nerves.
"You all noticed, right? Mana afterglow."
Any Bluecoat who survived Astoria's mage barrage hell would recognize it instantly.
"Still too dangerous!"
Jamal jumped in against it right away.
"If there's really a mage like you predict, we need to go with you more than ever. We can at least split their fire."
In other words, bait to eat spells with their bodies.
"No. You'd just be baggage."
My answer stayed the same.
"Can the Royal Gift Horse keep up?"
The Royal Gift Horse had never once run flat out. Always at the front, yet with power to spare. Even so, Bluecoats struggled to match her pace.
"They won't have calculated on her speed."
No one ever did.
There was something beyond mere bloodline with her.
Whatever else, I was truly grateful to the princess for this horse.
"Not charging straight in blindly. Alone opens options. No need to stick to the obvious path. With luck, I slip into Killigrad without a single hit."
Jamal and the Bluecoats argued long after. I tuned them out.
"Wait here three days. No word? Head straight back to Schrelgrad, no looking back. Don't poke around checking if I'm alive. Got it?"
"Urgh... Yes, sir."
They bowed their heads, faces twisted in anguish.
"Now help me with this armor."
Final order to them.
The Bluecoats swarmed, stripping it off.
Now just the blue coat remained.
"Lieutenant..."
Their faces darkened further. One even clutched my coat hem.
Damn mouth of mine, blabbing about shrouds and such.
"Ah. Feels like I can breathe now."
Truth was, I was freezing more than relieved. But I bluffed anyway.
"Mount up."
I seated the noble in front of me.
Conveniently, his weight matched the midplate I'd ditched.
"You asked about the horse intending this from the start."
He nodded.
Gazing at that tiny head, I spurred the Royal Gift Horse forward.
"One question."
"Ask."
"Those tears—acting too?"
Odd question, but he answered casually.
"Saria was a woman who'd been with me thirty years. She died protecting me. A few tears are the bare minimum courtesy."
So... acting or not?
...?
Wait. More importantly.
"...Thirty years?"
"Not hard to answer, but talking age might reveal my true name. If that's fine..."
"No. It's fine. Forget I asked."
He shrugged.
I shoved the questions aside regardless.
Just chalk it up to freakishly youthful looks.
"Hold tight then."
I ramped up the Royal Gift Horse's speed.
"He's gone."
"Yeah."
"Can't see him already."
"Nope. Outta sight."
The Bluecoats traded pointless chatter for a while, then dismounted in unison. They drew their swords, honing edges and checking gear.
"You really okay letting him go alone like that?"
Yakov Kasimir couldn't fathom it.
"Sharpening blades right now..."
Thud.
Someone gripped his shoulder. The middle-aged man—once thought the noble—shook his head at him.
Then flicked his eyes that way.
Following the glance, Yakov startled.
Jamal, was it? The sergeant acting as aide was grinding his blade so hard the whetstone screeched nastily on every pass.
"..."
The Bluecoat tightening his armor joints, the one adjusting his saddle—every hand brimmed with excess force.
Seeing those rage-shaking fists, Yakov couldn't speak rashly.
...Thanks.
Nearly opened his mouth foolishly and pissed everyone off. He quietly thanked the middle-aged man.
Soon, gear checks done, Bluecoats settled into rest their own ways.
Some wrapped in blankets for sleep, some stretched out loose. Others just sat staring blankly.
Now even Yakov saw it.
They were waiting.
Fully prepped to charge the second their turn came.
This is the field army's elite, the Bluecoats...!
Yakov was awed.
Crude and brutish maybe, but real men.
The realization hit.
"Hm."
His lifelong pride, the red coat, suddenly looked drab.
Maybe from the scratches and tears. Or something else. He couldn't tell.
Whoosh.
Suddenly, resting Bluecoats sprang up as one.
Rumble.
Then thunder cracked late.
That was the signal.
Boom! Boom! Kwang!
Explosions chained on.
The world-shaking roar blanched Yakov.
"That's magic barrage..."
The wide-area spells he'd only heard of.
Power was insane.
No flash visible—so at least three klicks out.
Yet this shockwave.
Crazy. They charged through that hell?
Bluecoats' ordeal in the last war's bombing was infamous even among Redcoats.
Still, no one denied they charged to the end.
Redcoats shrugged it off.
Claimed they'd do the same. Some bragged they'd breakthrough before the barrage shredded them.
All bullshit.
Yakov would bet his fortune none of those loudmouths could've leaped into that inferno.
Boom!
Just hearing it from afar made his legs jelly. Others too, no doubt.
Glance.
Forcing strength into his legs, he eyed the Bluecoats.
Grind.
No fear—just gnashing teeth, bodies twitching to leap at the horizon.
Night fell.
...Boom.
...Boom.
Frequency dropped, but blasts didn't stop.
"Looks like the lieutenant was wrong."
Jamal gathered the Bluecoats.
"We figured the enemy wouldn't drag it out in our territory, but that prediction missed the mark."
Bluecoats nodded vigorously.
"Why isn't the 15th moving? Explosions must reach Killigrad."
"Plenty of time even for turtle-slow infantry to roll out, let alone long patrols."
They huddled, straining to analyze.
"Why?"
"Beats me."
No breakthroughs.
"One of two things?"
Yakov Kasimir ventured carefully.
"No will to move..."
"Those land-grubbing bastards got no will?!"
"Letting scum bomb away in our turf?"
"Fuck! They guarding with cards now?!"
Bluecoats erupted in curses.
"Not saying it's true—just possibilities. And another: they want to but can't."
Like pinned down somehow.
"Astoria dogs crossed the border in this cold? Pfft."
"Half'd freeze before a real fight."
"Even if they did, ignoring this-scale magic barrage in our zone? Nah."
All solid points.
Yakov hadn't spoken from conviction anyway. No more to add.
"Hey, enough chatter. Focus."
Jamal clapped sharply.
"Why 15th ain't moving don't matter. It's happened. Now: what next."
So, ideas?
"Lieutenant's prediction busted, so wait order's void, right?"
"Exactly. Battlefield variables galore—followed every order to the letter, we'd be dead ages ago."
"Vote: waiting's pointless."
Jamal grinned at their input.
"Settled then."
He vaulted onto his horse.
Others scrambled up, not to be outdone.
"Wha—?"
Yakov blinked at the sudden shift.
"We're going."
And you?
"You mean charging in there?"
Bluecoats didn't reply. But their intent burned clear.
Insane. Really going in?
Bluecoats gave no wait time.
Forming ranks, primed to bolt any second.
"Oi, clowns. You in?"
Jamal asked the Doppelzoltner meanwhile.
"Expensive. Mage. Ransom. Chance. But. Baggage. Sigh."
Hard to read those white-painted faces, but their genuine regret? Crystal.
All lunatics?
Regretting missing that hellish barrage.
Yakov reeled.
But the real shock waited.
"...I-I'm going too!"
Words out, instant regret.
Too late—spilled milk.
Snapping to, he was atop a Bluecoat's horse.
Mountless Bluecoats doubled up too.
"Vanguard's me. You next. Then you."
Jamal set the order.
To Yakov's ear, it sounded like death lineup.
"Hey. If I can't fight, you take this beast."
Learning why he'd been invited, Yakov squeezed his eyes shut.
The lieutenant's quip about blue coats being shrouds for madmen? No metaphor.
He realized too late—and by then, he galloped with the maniacs toward doom.
(Spoiler: he didn't die.)
"Huh? Stopped."
About two klicks out, the barrage cut off like a lie.
And like a lie, glowing orbs lit the sky.
"Gah."
Yakov froze.
Any second, blasts incoming.
But the orbs didn't strike or explode.
Just drifted down torturously slow, illuminating everything.
Revealing the scene.
"Wha...!"
Gazing at the barrage-scoured earth, he gasped.
A sight beyond anything in his life.