Chapter 7: Gray Ripple [Map]
Chapter 7: Gray Shoals [Map]
The sensation of passing through the teleportation circle was far from pleasant.
It felt like the ground dropped beneath my feet, then my stomach lurched violently.
Light fractured before my eyes, then reassembled—
And I found myself standing on frozen earth.
The Northern First Rear Base.
The stench of blood.
Even as the biting cold made breathing difficult, the thick metallic scent forced its way into my nostrils.
Crimson streaks stretched long across the snow. Stretcher-bearers carried groaning soldiers while medics, sleeves soaked in blood, darted between the wounded.
In the distance, what looked like refugees huddled around bonfires.
A child's cry, the whinny of horses, the clang of metal, and beyond the northern ridge—the low, guttural roar of beasts.
I hadn't realized it was this bad.
I knew there were more things in this world that couldn't be solved with love. But part of me had still naively assumed that, since this was a romance fantasy, everything would be wrapped up in pink ribbons.
I know better than to blame everything on love-crazed idiots. Hell, I'm one of them.
But this—
This was negligence. I should've beaten them into shape sooner.
"Skip the arrival report. Just give me the situation."
An officer rushed forward and dropped to one knee.
His armor was dented, his face streaked with blood that had frozen white against his skin. Even now, he maintained protocol.
I swallowed the metallic taste in my mouth.
"The Second Defense Line is still holding. However, the Gray Shoals refugee column has deviated from its original route. A landslide blocked the mountain path, forcing them to detour—and the vanguard of the monsters is closing in."
"How many refugees?"
"At least a hundred and fifty confirmed. Escort troops number fewer than thirty. The Northern Army reserves tried to reinforce, but they're tied up at the Second Defense Line."
"Monster numbers?"
The officer glanced at Ulrich.
Ulrich had already unfurled a magic circle in the air. Blue lines bloomed from the Tower Master's hands, only to twist into black distortion near the northern ridge.
"The vanguard alone is small. But if the refugee column slows, the monsters will be right on their heels."
Ulrich projected the observation results into the air as he answered.
"One misstep, and it's a massacre."
No pressure, huh? Damn it.
I looked north.
This was why I'd stamped orders in the conference room, thrown a minister in prison, and dragged the Imperial Reserve Force here.
People were dying.
Blood was being spilled—just to add flavor to the love story of the original protagonists.
"Dietrich."
At my call, the Grand Duke of the North was already unfolding a map. His face was colder than it had been in the capital's meeting room.
The sight of his people dying on his land had snapped him back into his role as Grand Duke.
Please, just do your damn job properly from now on.
"The Gray Shoals detour loops around the western cliffs. The path is narrow, but if cavalry pushes through first, they can clear the way for the refugees.
The problem is the eastern forest path. The moment that route opens, the monsters will pour in."
"Can you secure the west?"
"Possible. But we'll need a blade to cut off the east."
Caspar silently tapped his scabbard with his palm.
Under normal circumstances, I'd have dismissed it as an unnecessarily cool pose. But not now.
Right now, that bastard was a blade. A sword that just needed to be thrust into the right place.
You damn—
"Sir Caspar. Take the Central Knights' vanguard and cut off the monster vanguard at the eastern forest path. Sever them before they reach the refugees."
Caspar looked at me.
No resentment in his eyes now. No suspicion.
"I'll cut off the vanguard. Not a single one will reach the refugees."
"Good. But no pursuit. If you chase them back to the main force, the refugees' rear will be exposed. Your mission today isn't glory—it's severance."
He pressed his lips together briefly, then bowed.
"Understood."
"Ulrich. The observation network?"
"The Northern branch is wrecked, so we can't use the existing network. But if I personally deploy high-altitude observation, I can get one wide sweep. The barrier repairs will be delayed, though."
"One sweep is enough. Just pinpoint where the main monster force is heading. We'll fix the barrier after."
Ulrich's mouth twisted wryly.
"Every time Your Highness speaks of magic so casually, I feel insulted as a mage."
"File that complaint later. Right now, work."
"......"
Managing each of them one by one is exhausting.
The Fake Saintess Loved by All Saves the World? More like The Fake Saintess Babysits a Romance Fantasy Kindergarten.
"Konrad."
Konrad still looked dazed from the teleportation. But he hadn't run. That, at least, was commendable.
"Take the Imperial Reserve and cover the refugees' rear."
Konrad stared at me, his face stiff.
"You're entrusting me with battlefield command?"
"No. I'm entrusting you with evacuation. The fighting will be handled by those lunatics. You plant the Imperial banner and keep the refugee column from collapsing. Give them hope."
For a moment, he said nothing.
"Hope... That's a harder task than battle."
"Royal blood exists for moments like this."
Konrad drew a sharp breath.
"As you command, Brother."
Good.
At least now, everyone was in their rightful place.
If only these bastards had been like this from the start.
"Move out."
At Dietrich's order, the Northern cavalry surged forward. Hooves shattered the frozen earth. Caspar and the Central Knights' vanguard vanished into the eastern forest. Ulrich's magic circle ascended high into the sky. Konrad raised the Imperial Reserve's banner and began organizing refugee reception points.
The battlefield shifted.
Or rather, the assets I'd forcibly wrangled into place finally began meshing together.
Not long after, a silver flash erupted from the eastern forest.
Caspar, the Sword Saint.
His title was no empty boast.
The heads of monsters bursting from the treeline flew off in a single stroke. Before the ones behind could react, the Central Knights' cavalry charged into the gap. Caspar's sword moved faster than the eye could follow. Monster carapaces split, black blood spraying across the snow.
That's not a man—that's a damn lawnmower.
Meanwhile, Dietrich was clearing wagons blocking the mountain path entrance.
Instead of leading with his sword, he split the Northern Army into three prongs to force open the narrow path. His judgment was swift—which troops to push forward, which to pull back.
Ulrich's high-altitude observation soon bore fruit.
The blue eye hovering in the sky blinked once, then spilled black dots across the projected map.
"The main force is splitting. One group toward Gray Shoals, the other northeast of the Second Defense Line. Strange. The flow feels... inconsistent."
"Just block Gray Shoals?"
"Yes, but if we're too slow, the detour could be cut off."
"Then we'll just have to not be slow."
I looked down at the map.
Gray Shoals. Mountain path. Refugee column. Monster vanguard. Main force.
Each dot on the paper represented a hundred lives.
I'd completed my military service, but how much action could there really be in a nation at armistice?
Yet here, in this world, those dots weren't abstractions—they were people bleeding out on the ground.
Damn it.
Of all the war simulation game nerds out there, why did I have to get isekai'd?
Sis, sis, sis, sis, sis—seriously.
Were you happy, creating a world like this?
I couldn't just sit in the command tent.
I needed to see the evacuation with my own eyes. Only then could I breathe.
Orders were already given. The operation wouldn't collapse without me.
"Keep reports coming to this location. I'm going to check the refugee column."
Waving off the aide who tried to stop me, I headed toward the refugees.
The detour wound around the western cliffs of Gray Shoals valley. At its southern end, refugees poured down like a flood.
"Refugee rear incoming!"
A woman clutching a wailing child, an old man pulling a cart, soldiers with bloodied bandages. As the Imperial Reserve's banner rose, the chaotic flow of people gradually stabilized.
Konrad moved among the troops, shouting orders.
He's doing well.
Rumble—
The ground suddenly shook.
Wait, what now?
Is praising him a death flag too?
The western cliff's upper slope trembled precariously. Thousands of tons of snow and rock swayed, threatening to collapse onto the detour at any moment.
Avalanche? Landslide?
No—those words don't do it justice.
It could crumble any second.
No, not yet.
Just a little longer. Just until the refugees pass.
I'd sent all available escorts to assist. Every second counted now.
Terrified faces rushed past me. Toward safety. Toward hope.
Then—
"The detour! There's a child left behind!"
At the sharp cry, I turned.
Beneath the western cliff.
A single overturned cart lay embedded in the snow.
And beside it, a child crouched frozen in place. Small hands tugged desperately at their own arm—trapped in the cart's wreckage. Tears streaked their face as they struggled silently. The sight burned into my eyes.
No time to assess.
Panicked refugees fled blindly, and the soldiers had no strength to spare, busy holding off monsters at the column's rear.
"Damn it."
No one else would go.
My body moved before my mind. Thankfully, Ludwig's body was fast. Strong. Even sprinting across snow felt like leaping across solid ground.
So this wasn't recklessness.
That's what I told myself.
With the specs of a romance fantasy male lead—the Empire's Crown Prince—this should be easy. Ludwig's physical abilities were more than enough to get in and out.
Crash!
My sword shattered the wooden wheel in one strike.
I hooked the terrified child with one arm and pulled them close. Their tiny, frozen body was so light I had to check twice to confirm I was holding them.
But then—
The sky disappeared.
A mass of earth blotted out the light.
My vision darkened.
Ah.
Miscalculation.
This might be it.
BOOM—!
