Chapter 278: Lainella's Fate is Decided by Lainella (71)
Chapter 278: Lainella's Fate is Decided by Lainella (71)
A storm of wind and lightning was pouring down upon the battlefield.
The primary cause was Elsie.
She was pouring every ounce of her strength into the fight, having already emptied several bottles of mana potions.
Ian, who had taken an unexpected blow from the Corpse Giant, was clearly in critical condition to anyone watching.
Those who had rushed to save him couldn't help but feel the mounting desperation.
This was no different for Seria, who had been watching blankly from a distance.
She barked out an order instinctively, without a second thought.
"Sir Alex, we must enter the fray immediately!"
Unlike her usual timid self, her voice was clear and commanding.
However, the response she expected from the Yurdina knights did not come.
Instead, the knights of the Yurdina family simply stared at her with blank expressions.
Just as Seria’s brow began to furrow in displeasure, the old knight Alex spoke up on behalf of the vassals.
"…Are you truly in earnest?"
In earnest?
Seria could only shout back, her voice thick with emotion.
"Do you think I’m joking?! Right now, Senior Ian is—"
"My Lady."
Alex’s voice was calm as he cut her off.
His tone was neither heavy nor light.
It only made Seria more bewildered. She didn't see the typical resolve of a vassal committing mutiny in Alex’s face, nor did he possess the posture of a soldier silently obeying a superior's command.
He simply asked a question in return.
"…Have you memorized all the names of the soldiers?"
Seria bit her lip.
Time was of the essence, and yet, what on earth was he talking about?
However, Seria had yet to earn the recognition of the vassals.
The North only follows those worthy of being followed.
Thus, even as Alex continued his cryptic questioning, no one moved to stop him. If anything, they watched with keen interest.
Had this been a battle where the fate of the Yurdina family hung in the balance, it might have been different, but to Yurdina’s private army, this was merely a foreign land.
They had the luxury of composure.
The only one without it was Seria.
Though a surge of anger rose within her, she forced herself to speak as if reasoning with him.
"If I am lacking, I will gladly set aside time later to hear your counsel. But right now, Senior Ian’s life is hanging by a thread…"
"Sam’s only family is his younger sister."
Alex’s words brought Seria’s speech to a jarring halt.
'Sam' was a common name. Among a thousand soldiers, there were bound to be several with that name.
Yet, Alex didn't bother to specify which unit he belonged to.
He spoke as if this 'Sam' was the only one with such circumstances.
"And that sister is a cripple. I heard Sam has done every job imaginable since he was a boy… He joined the family’s private army solely for the steady income."
Seria’s blue eyes scrutinized Alex’s expression.
But no matter how hard she looked, there was no sign that he was lying.
At the very least, it was clear that he understood the soldier named 'Sam' very well.
Alex didn't stop there.
"Have you spoken with Hanson? That fellow left behind only his elderly mother and a pregnant wife. He worries about who will provide for them if he dies."
"Aina is a bit of a peculiar one. She was a hunter from the coniferous forest; she volunteered for revenge after losing her younger brother to the elves. She says if she doesn't do it, no one will."
"Rex is the eldest of eight siblings. No matter how much he earned, it was never enough, so he eventually volunteered as a soldier. If he’s gone, several of them might starve."
Each of those calm explanations left Seria more flustered.
She had heard of the Northern traditions.
Northerners cherished their comrades.
It was a long-standing custom for a newly appointed commander to memorize the names of their soldiers.
But she had never met a knight who knew such detailed personal histories.
Alex was likely an exceptionally unique commander.
The unfortunate fact was that Alex was also the one testing her right now.
Whether she gained his recognition or not would determine the weight of her commands.
"Just as much as Young Master Ian, the soldiers standing here are irreplaceable and precious to someone. A Northern commander must understand that weight."
The powerful soldiers of the North were famous for charging in without regard for their own lives.
This was due to the influence of the North’s unique culture of 'loyalty.'
And a relationship could never be one-sided.
Just as the soldiers trusted and relied on their commander, the commander only chose battlefields where the soldiers' lives were worth sacrificing.
At a glance, this wasn't a test an impatient Seria was likely to pass.
But it didn't matter.
Yurdina was a house of lions, and tests always arrived exactly when one wanted to avoid them most.
Seria was well aware of this.
Biting her lip for a moment, Seria thought:
So what?
What did it matter how many of those people—Sam, Hanson, or Aina—died?
Senior Ian was right there!
To Seria, even her own life felt insignificant compared to Ian’s.
She was never someone Alex’s persuasion would work on.
However, Seria wondered:
What would Senior Ian do in a situation like this?
The moment she pondered that, her brain immediately produced the answer.
And in the next instant.
With a loud thud, Alex’s body was sent flying into the air.
Alex, who had been mounted on his horse, hadn't even thought to react.
He had no choice but to take a clean hit from Seria’s pommel as she lunged from her saddle.
Struck by the unexpected blow to his chest, Alex tumbled onto the ground.
The impact must have been beyond his imagination, as he coughed, looking utterly bewildered.
A cold, sharp edge pressed against Alex’s neck.
"…Sir Alex, I am a Northerner too."
Her voice was colder than the blade.
The light had vanished from Seria’s blue eyes, leaving only shadows.
"I came here under the orders of my sister, the rightful successor of Yurdina, and those instructions included supporting Senior Ian in case of an emergency."
The stunned knights turned their gaze toward Seria.
The soldiers, who had been watching the situation as if it were mere entertainment, did the same.
It was hard to find anyone whose eyes weren't wide with shock.
"Sir Alex, do you want to live? Or is there anyone among the soldiers you named who wants to live? If so, run away right now."
Silence fell.
Northerners valued honor above all else.
Running away like a coward was the ultimate disgrace.
"If not, do you want victory?"
"…My Lady."
Coughing, Alex staggered to his feet.
In the process, he gripped Seria’s blade tightly with his gauntlet.
If Seria had unleashed her Aura, his fingers would have been severed, but fortunately, no such disaster occurred.
"To anyone’s eyes, this is a situation where victory is difficult."
"And?"
It was a single word.
As she stared intently at Alex and threw the question back at him, Alex pounded his chest and slowly raised his head.
He was wearing a blood-pumping grin.
A chuckle escaped his lips.
"It means this is a magnificent battlefield for winning honor… Splendid, My Lady. This is exactly how a Yurdina should be. Strength over logic, honor over pity!"
With that, Alex immediately drew his sword.
Following his lead, the rest of the knights drew their blades in succession, and the soldiers responded by stomping their feet.
The sharp sound of metal and the thumping noise were enough to make one's head spin.
"…I’ll show you the skills of the man once called 'Yurdina’s Psycho.'"
Hearing the old knight’s boiling voice, Seria breathed a sigh of relief inwardly.
Northerners, honestly…
Still, she was glad she could support Senior Ian.
She completely forgot that she had just acted more like a Northerner than anyone else.
Nearly a thousand private soldiers flooded into the battlefield like a tide.
The corpses and flesh chunks targeting Ian began to be slaughtered, spraying blood everywhere.
The puzzles of the war were being assembled one by one.
This was shortly before Ian regained consciousness.
The storm and electrical charges struck indiscriminately.
The flesh chunks and corpses that had been closing in on Ian had long since been incinerated. Since the arrival of the Yurdina soldiers, no further reinforcements had appeared.
The tide of battle was overwhelmingly in Ian’s favor.
If only that 'Corpse Giant' wasn't there.
The Corpse Giant seemed slightly flustered by the sudden downpour of lightning.
But that was only for a moment; having finished repairing its head, the monster glared at Ian.
Ian had yet to even wake up.
Elsie repeatedly downed potions and cast spells like a madwoman.
Every time she did, her mana points throbbed violently.
It felt as if her veins were drying up, and the capillaries in her eyes had long since burst.
It hurt.
The vessels in her arms that channeled the mana were torn and bruised. The bruises, increasing in real-time, brought Elsie excruciating pain with every birth of a spell.
Several times, she had been unable to suppress a groan, causing her chanting to break.
Had I ever been in more pain than this?
Elsie asked herself with a fading consciousness.
Long ago, when she fought a hound alone?
It hurt then, too, but only for a moment. This was the first time she had voluntarily subjected herself to such agony.
Her whole body ached, and her lungs felt as if they were being violently squeezed.
Her eyes had long since gone dry, sending a stabbing pain through her every time the lightning flashed.
Tears streamed down her face.
She wanted to collapse right now; she wanted to run away crying.
But Elsie endured.
She had left her family and chosen her own fate for the first time in her life.
Then she had to accept that fate.
Even if the end was a dog's death.
But the Corpse Giant raised its fist high as if mocking her.
If that fist came down, Ian was as good as dead.
So, Elsie laughed.
"…Judgment of Light!"
CRACK-BOOM! The sound of thunder shook the battlefield.
Normally, the thunder should follow the lightning, but that roar was merely a precursor to the magic that followed.
As small sparks of electricity crackled, the Corpse Giant’s head was forced upward.
Electrical charges were gathering above its head.
And in the next moment.
With a CRACKLE that seemed to tear the atmosphere, a spear of lightning struck down.
Its power was incomparable to the wide-area magic she had used until now.
The Corpse Giant trembled and convulsed for a moment.
Even so, it wasn't enough to deal a decisive blow.
However, what Elsie wanted was a chance to grab the giant's attention, even for a second.
The Corpse Giant’s head slowly began to turn toward Elsie.
Elsie no longer had the strength to move a finger.
Lying face-down on the ground, she giggled.
"You hideous brat… Lower your eyes."
She pressed her trembling arms against the ground.
To make herself stand out just a little more.
"Hey, you coward! Who do you think you're touching while leaving this Lady Elsie alone? I’ll—I’ll be your opponent, so…"
So, just don't touch Master.
Elsie pleaded, gasping for breath.
Her blue eyes were already growing hazy.
But the girl’s wish did not reach the Agent of the Evil God.
The monster glared at Elsie for a moment before losing interest.
It seemed to consider Ian, who had dealt it a significant blow even once, as the more threatening enemy.
Elsie’s eyes snapped wide in panic.
"Hey, hey… Hey, what are you doing! I’m right here! There’s a person here, you son of a bitch!"
The Corpse Giant raised its fist once more.
And just as it was about to swing that massive hunk of flesh toward Ian.
Suddenly, geometric patterns began to be engraved in the sky.
It was the unmistakable precursor to a powerful high-tier magic.
Before the Corpse Giant could even react, chains of light shot down from each vertex of the magic circle drawn in the air.
It was lightning.
The attribute magic that was practically the symbol of the Lainella family.
It bound the Corpse Giant like a lasso. The giant struggled desperately to break free, but the chains of light didn't budge.
ROOOOOOOOAR—!
A roar filled with rage echoed loudly across the battlefield.
Watching the scene from beginning to end, Elsie was left dazed.
That magic circle—she had seen it somewhere before.
It wasn't a miracle a single magician could produce.
It was a grand magic that could only be achieved by a systematically trained Magic Corps.
What snapped Elsie out of her daze was the sound of a potion bottle rolling on the ground.
The bottle rolled with a clatter and stopped right next to her.
Engraved on the bottle was a crest of two crossed laurel trees.
Elsie’s eyes blankly turned toward her back.
Standing there was a very familiar figure.
"…Drink it."
It was Reynold.