The Cost of Retreat
“...Report.”
A hollow voice slipped between her lips. The Margrave sat motionless in a chair in the corner of her quarters. The retreat had succeeded. Her own wounds were not severe. Though she had sustained numerous cuts while fending off monsters during the withdrawal, none were life-threatening. The same could not be said for the soldiers under her command.
They were dead.
When the wall collapsed, every soldier standing watch upon it perished. More than half the garrison had already fallen to the monsters that had scaled the battlements before the breach. Still more died once the horde poured through the gap, and when Behemoth finally shattered the wall itself, countless knights and men-at-arms were crushed beneath the rubble.
For every soldier killed, another was maimed. Men missing limbs, ribs driven into organs, spines shattered so they could no longer stand. Of the several thousand troops that had held the line, more than half were rendered combat-ineffective in the first assault.
The Margrave closed her eyes. So many comrades lost. Those who had fought beside her for fifteen years. Those who had joined the defense of No Man’s Land only a year ago. The reinforcements the king himself had sent from the capital. Even members of the Raven Knight Order whose faces she had come to recognize.
Behemoth had not pursued them after toppling the wall. It seemed content to send its lesser spawn after the fleeing humans while it remained atop the ruins, gazing skyward. The defenders of No Man’s Land had no time to dwell on the sight. They fought through waves of monsters with blood-red eyes and raced toward the border city.
“Report the casualties the main force suffered in this attack,” the Margrave ordered the bandaged soldier standing before her.
The man’s arm was wrapped tightly in cloth. His injuries surely ran deeper than what was visible; he limped as though his leg or ankle were broken.
“...We cannot yet calculate the exact losses,” he said, lowering his head. “However, we believe every soldier near the wall when Behemoth appeared perished. Roughly six hundred men, including twenty knights.”
The Margrave nodded. She could accept the number only because the weight of total command rested on her shoulders.
She tilted her chin. “Continue.”
The soldier clenched his teeth. “After the retreat was ordered, most of those who volunteered to hold the rear were killed. We estimate around a hundred.”
Those who had stepped forward were mostly veterans.
“I see...” The Margrave bit her lip until blood welled and dripped down her chin. There was still one question left—the most important, and the one she dreaded most.
She forced the words out. “What of the vanguard detachment? Clint and those who turned their horses to fight the monsters. What became of them?”
Her expression cracked. Anguish and guilt bled through her clenched jaw.
“Margrave!”
Her most loyal subordinate, Clint, had ridden up beside her, eyes hard with resolve. She had seen that look before—the gaze of a man who had already accepted death.
“It doesn’t look like Behemoth itself is following, but the monsters on our heels are moving too fast. I’ll take a force and turn back to slow them down.”
The Margrave’s face had hardened. “Don’t be ridiculous, Clint. A little farther and we’ll reach the city. If we activate the mages’ spells and seal the gates, we can still minimize the losses—”
“Soldiers and knights in the rear are dying right now, Margrave.”
She had snarled at him. “I cannot permit it.”
“They’ll catch us, Margrave. Please.”
It was not only Clint. His adjutant wore the same grim expression.
“You once told us,” Clint continued, “that a commander must make wise decisions. That the kingdom’s safety must come before all else. That we must not let emotion cloud our judgment, and that we must never hesitate to sacrifice the few for the many.”
The Margrave had looked at them and known they were right. Even now, with every moment of delay, another soldier or knight was dying.
“These lives were already pledged to this land and to you,” Clint had said, voice urgent.
“Damn it. Go, then. Hold them back. And as always—” Even knowing it was impossible, she had added, “Come back alive. Don’t dream of a glorious death. Such a thing doesn’t exist. Buy us what time you can, then turn around and return.”
Clint had given her a faint smile and nodded. “Yes. I will.”
Then he and his knights had wheeled their horses. The Margrave had not looked back. She had only spurred her mount faster.
“Faster...! Before the monsters catch us...”
“Clint and his men did not return,” the soldier reported quietly.
The Margrave’s voice faltered. “We must send a search party—”
She stopped. The expectations her subordinates had placed upon her were too heavy. She waved the worried soldier off. Another knight, another loyal friend, had to be left behind.
“No. What is the current monster situation?”
“The first spell, the Veil, has been activated, but its duration is nearly spent. The barrier will lose its mana in two days.”
Reinforcements from the capital could not be relied upon. The Margrave pressed a hand to her forehead.
“...Two days.”
She looked out the window at the city. A violet dome shimmered in the sky—an impenetrable barrier sealing the city from all entry and exit. Even now it held the monsters at bay.
“We should assume no reinforcements are coming,” the soldier ventured carefully.
“I agree,” the Margrave said. She exhaled. “...We should fall back to the second defensive line.”
“To Murat?”
“Yes.”
The soldier bowed and left, closing the door behind him.
“Damn it all.”
The Margrave slammed her fist onto the desk. The wood splintered. She pressed her forehead against the ruined surface, grinding her teeth as she whispered the names of the dead.
The order to retreat came less than twelve hours after they had reached the city.
“We’re retreating again?”
“Looks like we’re pulling all the way back to the second line.”
The soldiers murmured among themselves. The wounded receiving treatment inside the city refused to believe the wall had fallen. Those who had escaped the battlefield could not even feel relief at being alive; their thoughts remained with the dead and the monsters that had taken them.
“Damn it, Philip...”
“We were supposed to muster out together...”
They had survived. Against all odds, they had lived. In a battlefield where death was commonplace, no one took survival for granted.
Maxim checked the names of his comrades in the makeshift barracks set up inside an empty building. Theodora was safe—he had seen her heading toward the Margrave’s quarters. Paola, Roberto, and Christine were here with him. But not every member of the Raven Knight Order had made it.
“So it’s come to this,” Christine said in a hollow voice. “I never thought any of us would die...”
Maxim had no words. Neither did Roberto or Paola; all they could do was listen.
“What happens now?”
Paola answered. “Since we’re falling back to the second line, I imagine they plan to turn this city into a graveyard for those monsters.”
“A graveyard? How?” Roberto asked.
“...They’ve prepared more than just the Veil,” Paola said, stamping her foot against the floor. “There are explosive spells buried beneath the entire city—powerful enough to level it.”
“So they intend to bury the monsters along with the city?”
Paola nodded. “Reduce their numbers, pin Behemoth down, and wait for the kingdom’s main force to arrive. Then they’ll engage it directly.”
“Can we even fight that thing?” Christine asked.
Paola shrugged. “I don’t know. The explosion will have to do its job. If it can kill Behemoth outright, all the better, but...” She gave a bitter smile. “I doubt one spell will be enough.”
“When will reinforcements arrive?”
“If His Majesty truly wishes to protect his people and his land, they should be here by tomorrow at the latest. Otherwise, we won’t know how much of the kingdom that monster will have devoured.”
Just then, the barracks door opened and a soldier stepped inside. Every knight’s gaze turned to him. Flustered, the man looked around before settling on Paola, the eldest present.
“The Margrave has issued a summons. All personnel are to gather in the city square with their belongings. The barrier will be dismantled. We are retreating from this city.”