I Became the War Hero of a RoFan (1)
After a long moment of emotional exchange,
Sabre stood up from his seat.
He poured out the strong liquor remaining in his silver cup—which he had only wet his lips with—onto the dirt floor of the tent without a shred of regret.
Ssssss—
"My wish to sit across from you and share a proper drink has been fulfilled to overflowing tonight."
There was no lingering regret in Sabre's voice.
"Now, I have only one final wish left. For this war to end as quickly as possible. And... after its conclusion, to crush the embers of war so thoroughly that they may never flare up again in our generation."
Sabre pointed to the massive tactical map spread out in the center of the tent.
"At dawn tomorrow, the main force will begin its march immediately."
Sabre's finger pressed down on a specific point on the map.
"Our next destination is Europia's strategic stronghold, Kalsten... Ah, but as a former soldier of Europia, the name Eufront would be more familiar to you."
Eufront.
A key defensive stronghold of the Europia Kingdom, and a fertile granary once ruled by the Kalista family before being seized by Europia.
It was the very territory Sabre had devoted his entire life to reclaiming.
"Tomorrow, I shall reclaim the lost territory of the Kalista family with my own hands."
If that place fell, Europia's spine would effectively be snapped.
The end of the war was coming into sight.
I sprang up from my seat.
I needed to score more points here.
"My detachment will take the vanguard this time as well."
At my resolute volunteering, Sabre nodded, his eyes filled with deep trust.
"I leave it to you. My Holy Spear."
Goosebumps broke out at the cringe-inducing title of 'My Holy Spear,' but without letting it show, I gave a crisp Valerian-style salute.
And just as I turned around to leave the tent,
a practical problem caught my ankle.
Wait a minute. Once we capture Eufront and the war ends... what happens to the bastards under my command?
Once the war ended, I planned to live in luxury as a meritorious war hero of the Valerian Kingdom.
But what about the guys in my direct detachment?
Having turned traitor, I had neither the confidence nor the ability to take responsibility for the lives of thousands of men.
On the other hand, if I sent them back to Europia, they'd all be executed as the henchmen of a traitor...
Right, let's dump this responsibility on someone else. On Uncle Sabre, who's gullibly kind and fiercely responsible!
I stopped in my tracks, turned back, and looked at Sabre.
"General. There is one thing... I must beg of you."
"Speak."
"When this war is completely over... please, take the soldiers under my command and look after them yourself."
My meaning was: once the war ends, I'll take a fat severance package and quietly go live in the countryside, so you take care of these troublesome subordinates—whether that means finding them jobs or having them farm.
However.
Upon hearing my words, Sabre's expression froze for a moment, and then tears began to glisten in his eyes once more.
Huh? Why are you crying?
Sabre spoke in a voice choked with emotion, faltering over his words.
"Lasen... You, truly..."
Sabre stepped toward me and firmly grasped both of my hands.
"When the war ends... we will indeed need many wine cups."
"Pardon?"
"How could I not know that many of the soldiers in your detachment are refugees originally from Kalsten—the very land we are to reclaim tomorrow?"
...Ah.
So that was it.
My subordinates were from that region?
The original novel didn't mention such minor details, so how was I supposed to know?!
"Even if I reclaim my lost territory, after tomorrow's battle, the fields will be devastated and the people will ultimately leave. To rebuild that land, the blood and sweat of healthy young men are desperately needed. But... I could not bring myself to ask you, a surrendered general, to hand over your own limbs and right-hand men to become the populace of my territory..."
A thick teardrop finally trickled down Sabre's cheek.
"To think that you understood my heart and offered your most precious limbs first for the reconstruction of my territory... You feel more like my true lord than the Valerian royal family, who insulted the Kalista house. Thank you. Thank you so much, Lasen!"
No!!! I never thought anything like that!!! And stop saying treasonous things every now and then! You're giving me a heart attack! I just dumped them on you because they were a hassle!!!
Internally, I wanted to scream like crazy and bang my head against the wall, but my hands were already held tight in Sabre's rough grip.
I couldn't exactly say, 'Ah, I didn't realize there was such a deep meaning. I take it back.'
In the end, with an enlightened, resigned expression, I forced a smile and had no choice but to nod.
"...May the glory of Kalista burn brightly once more."
At my soul-less blessing, Sabre beamed brightly as if he had gained the entire world.
I'm seriously going crazy.
Leaving Sabre's sticky, intense gaze behind, I fled the tent as if escaping.
Whew—
Only when the cold dawn air cooled my sweat did I feel like I could breathe again.
My back was drenched in cold sweat.
Sabre... I thought only his martial prowess was terrifying, but the scale of his misunderstandings was imperial-grade.
Tread, tread.
On the way back to my tent.
As I passed the entrance of the camp,
the unpleasant buzzing of a swarm of flies mixed into the cool breeze.
I raised my head and looked at the sky.
Just as Sabre had said, a full moon—round and bright, exactly like the night I first surrendered—hung in the middle of the night sky.
But that beautiful moonlight failed to reach the ground completely.
A tall wooden pole erected at the camp entrance.
Hanging from its tip, the severed, bloodless head of Prince Jupiter blocked the moonlight head-on.
Every time the wind blew, Jupiter's tied head spun around, seeming to look down at me with hollow eyes.
"...What a tiresome coincidence."
I let out a dry chuckle and muttered under my breath.
Yeah.
Just like the prince's severed head blocking the moon, my life as the loyal patriot Lasen—now splashed with treason—would continue to be obscured and painted over by a series of misunderstandings and coincidences.
But so what? I survived, didn't I?
Stepping on my own shadow cast by the moonlight, I quickened my pace.
Tomorrow morning, I would have to charge across the battlefield once more to smash the fortress walls of Eufront.
To survive.
Solely for my own survival.
The war of Lasen—Europia's worst traitor and Valerian's greatest loyalist—was not over yet.
Kalsten, the fertile granary that served as the core of the Europia Kingdom's northern defense line and the former lifeline of the Kalista family.
Or rather, in front of the massive fortress known by its Europian name, Eufront.
The plain that had boasted wheat fields until yesterday had now become Europia's mud-drenched frontline.
"Push forward! Don't let a single one escape alive!"
Standing at the absolute vanguard of Valerian, I swept across the battlefield. Every time I thrust the spear in my hand, the helmets and armor of the Europian soldiers were pierced through.
Blood splattered and screams erupted, but my heart remained cold and calm.
Because the tactical insight and martial prowess engraved into this body were off the charts.
Furthermore, I knew the formations and weaknesses of the Europian army inside out.
The direction of my charge was always aimed at the enemy line's most vulnerable joints, and the Valerian cavalry and my direct detachment following behind me exploited those gaps to ruthlessly sever the enemy's breath.
"It's Lasen! The Red Hound of Valerian!"
"Hold the formation! If we're breached, it's over—Gaaaaah!"
The morale of the Europian army was already hitting rock bottom.
With the man who was once their hero slaughtering his former allies at the very front, the terror and despair were beyond words.
But why should I care?
I was merely swinging my spear to survive.
Just as I completely shattered the enemy's left wing and prepared to turn my horse toward the center,
far in the distance, amidst the collapsing center of the Europian formation, a golden banner rose high.
The symbol of royalty.
And the flag signaling the commander-in-chief of Eufront.
Beneath that banner, riding a black horse—the symbol of a cadet branch—with his cloak fluttering, a middle-aged man charged forward.
"...Chronos."
Unconsciously, the name of the man whose face I hadn't even clearly seen yet leaked from between my lips.
Grand Duke Chronos.
The practical military commander-in-chief of Europia, and the uncle of the original female lead, Princess Yuno.
And the biological father of Prince Jupiter, whom I had personally beheaded just a few days ago.
Above all, he was the enemy who had ordered the original Lasen into a suicidal surprise assault before I transmigrated, reducing me to a prisoner of Valerian.
Even from afar, I could see Chronos's eyes bloodshot, burning red like crimson flames.
"Lasen!! You basterrrrrd!! How dare you... How dare you do that to my son, Jupiter!!"
Piercing through the din of the battlefield, Chronos's scream struck my ears.
Having completely lost his mind, he left even his personal guard behind, leveling his spear himself as he charged straight at me.
I clicked my tongue.
For a commander-in-chief to be so swayed by emotion that he foolishly steps up to the vanguard alone...
From a military standpoint, it was utterly incomprehensible.
It was practically a suicidal act.
Chronos... You weren't originally a foolish moth to the flame who rushed forward without looking ahead or behind.
Ordering Lasen into an unreasonable surprise attack couldn't be defined as military ignorance either.
Rather, it was because he had political foresight.
And because he knew Lasen, whom he commanded, all too well.
He had accurately predicted that Lasen would either be captured by Valerian or killed as a result of that surprise attack.
The reason was simple.
Chronos was an outstanding commander and, at the same time, a politician.
His older brother, King Ades, the current ruler of Europia, was a paranoid man with a fierce lust for power.
As the war dragged on, King Ades grew wary of his younger brother Chronos's ever-expanding influence within the military.
What if this war ended in Europia's victory, or a truce under favorable conditions?
The primary contributors would naturally be Lasen, the fierce commoner general who led the detachment to victory after victory, and Grand Duke Chronos, who had selected and commanded him.
After the war, the cheers of the populace and the immense achievements showered upon them would inevitably become political blades threatening King Ades.
Chronos had even factored that post-war political civil war into his calculations.
To swear to his brother that he had no treasonous intent to claim the throne, and to safely secure the future of his house and his son Jupiter...
he needed a scapegoat to appropriately shed the massive achievements that would fall upon him.
The most suitable scapegoat.
A hero of the nation born a commoner, possessing no backing whatsoever, and drawing the envy of the nobility upon himself.
Cutting off Lasen.
However.
That political calculation... turned into the worst boomerang and plunged straight into your heart.
Who could have guessed that Lasen, the loyal knight, would bow his head and surrender right in front of Valerian's execution block?
And who could have dreamed that he would become Valerian's vanguard, tearing into them and even severing the neck of his own biological son, Jupiter?
Trying to preserve power by severing his own limbs with his own hands.
A political judgment made while looking toward an unseen war after the war, even before the current war had ended.
It had returned as the tragedy of his beloved son's death.
The moment I met Chronos's bloodshot eyes from afar, I realized it.
Perhaps...
Right now, that man isn't charging forward to kill me.
He might not be running to survive and take revenge.
The unbearable guilt over the miscalculation he committed.
The gut-wrenching grief of a father who lost his son.
Unable to endure all those burdens, he might simply be seeking death from me in the middle of this battlefield...
Charging forward just to die.
However, while your circumstances are pitiful, I can't exactly hand over my neck.
Muttering coldly, I kicked my beloved horse hard in the flanks.
Neiiigh!
Raising its front hooves high, the horse kicked off the muddy ground at a terrifying speed.
Ahead of all my subordinates, I burst out alone into the center of the enemy lines, piercing through the raining arrows, spears, and blades.
And with the loudest voice boiling up from deep within my gut, I roared across the battlefield.
"Lasen of Valerian is here!!"
"Lasaaaaaaen!!!!!!"
Hearing my shout, Chronos likewise broke away entirely from his unit with a scream, charging straight toward me.
From a military perspective, a terrible spectacle unfolded.
Even though no separate order had been issued by any commander,
the Valerian cavalry following behind me and the soldiers of Europia's central main force slowed their advance simultaneously, as if by prior agreement, and parted to the left and right.
In the middle of the massive battlefield where tens of thousands fought tangled together, an empty muddy path was created, where only Chronos and I charged toward each other.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
The sound of horse hooves pounded against my ears as fast as a heartbeat.
The distance between Chronos and me closed in an instant.
Ten paces, five paces, three paces.
"Die, Lasen!!"
Shedding tears, Chronos violently thrust the spear he held toward my neck.
Because of his rage, his shoulders were stiff with tension, making the trajectory plainly visible.
Without even blinking, I twisted my upper body slightly to the side, letting the tip of his spear slide past.
Swish—!
As Chronos's spear grazed my earlobe, I simultaneously thrust the spear I held firmly toward his broad chest.
Thwack—!!
"Kugh...!"
The spear blade I thrust shattered Chronos's armor, accurately piercing his heart and protruding a hand's breadth out of his back.
In that split second.
Chronos's gaze intertwined with mine.
A sense of relief flickered across the red eyes of the veteran general coughing up blood.
Toward death.
He had run toward his son, and I had granted him rest.
"Go on ahead."
Putting strength into both arms, I hoisted the spear shaft upward.
Creeeeak!
Chronos's body, hoisted high with his heart impaled on my spear, scattered a spray of blood.