Your War, My War (1)

The defensive state of Murat could hardly be called excellent when compared to the cities in No Man’s Land, which were practically fortresses. Perhaps it was already far too late to complain about that fact. People wandered the city—which had no outer walls—with dark expressions on their faces.

Once one left No Man’s Land and entered the kingdom’s mainland, the weather changed dramatically. The summer sunlight and heat, something utterly absent in No Man’s Land, transformed into a formidable enemy in Murat, tormenting the soldiers. Amid the green foliage and the chirping of insects along the front lines, soldiers worked busily to build barricades. Mages were weaving tactical spells, while knights meditated and sparred, striving to raise their skills to their peak.

Count Ray Agon, the lord of Murat, the Margrave, and Theodora watched these people from afar.

Count Agon nodded his head with humble grace.

“Were there no troubles?”

The Count looked back and forth between the Margrave and Theodora, both of whom appeared exhausted. To call it mere exhaustion would be an understatement; fatigue seemed etched deep into their very bones. It was only the characteristic resilience of knights that allowed them to endure like this. Had it been Count Agon himself, he might have already collapsed and died from the strain.

“You have suffered greatly,” Count Agon said, stroking his bushy beard. Even though he knew full well how his own domain would soon be crushed by the coming catastrophe, he did not lose his composure. Though he was neither knight nor mage but merely of noble blood, he carried the pride of having protected this region for a long time.

The Margrave shook his head at Count Agon. Not a single one of his damn subordinates had agreed to withdraw from the front lines. They declared they would throw away their lives to protect this land, that such treatment was already too generous for those who had failed to defend No Man’s Land, and that they would fight and die on the front.

The Margrave spoke in a low voice. Count Agon let out a quiet groan as he looked at the Margrave’s face, which was heavy with dark clouds.

Count Agon asked carefully.

The Margrave gazed out the window. From Count Agon’s mansion at the center of Murat, one could see the single road leading toward No Man’s Land.

Count Agon flinched, his shoulders trembling in shock.

Count Agon understood how agonizing the Margrave’s decision must have been. An enemy too powerful to handle had smashed through the territory’s defenses and forced the choice to abandon the land. Knowing how meaningless it would be to die alongside the domain, the lord had chosen to turn the city into a tomb for the invaders.

The Margrave furrowed his brows.

At Count Agon’s question, the Margrave answered with certainty. It was by no means a reassuring certainty, so Count Agon’s lips tightened.

That was what a monster from myth was like. The Margrave calmly acknowledged the fact.

Count Agon let out a sigh as well.

Count Agon closed his eyes. He tried to picture the form of the monster in his mind, but no image came to him. Then he looked out the window again. Soldiers were bustling about.

The Margrave glanced at Count Agon.

At the Margrave’s words, Count Agon nodded with difficulty.

Count Agon quickly corrected his expression.

Theodora, who had been listening quietly, narrowed her eyes as she looked at Count Agon. The Margrave, receiving her gaze, inwardly admired its sharpness.

Theodora did not particularly like the title Count Agon used for her, but she did not show it. She simply delivered what she had to say, clearly and precisely.

The Margrave nodded silently, while Count Agon frowned slightly.

Count Agon was about to retort that they could simply not assign any escort, but he closed his mouth. He knew better than anyone that it would not be allowed. It would be wasteful. He could not allow soldiers who must throw their lives away for this land to throw theirs away for him. And soon, he realized why the Margrave had no choice but to shamefully abandon his territory.

Count Agon understood that his situation was no different from that of the Margrave or Theodora. He had to break his stubbornness—the obstinacy of an old noble. After long deliberation, Count Agon nodded his heavy head. Many emotions crossed his face.

It was a matter for the entire kingdom. For the kingdom and all its people. Count Agon smiled bitterly. How many subordinates had the Margrave and Theodora already lost? How many deaths had they witnessed? Count Agon changed his resolve.

The Margrave’s previously dark expression softened a little, and he offered Count Agon a small smile. Count Agon realized once more that he had made the right decision and clicked his tongue bitterly.

Count Agon looked back and forth between the Margrave and Theodora with apologetic eyes. The Margrave shook his head, saying it was not so.

At Count Agon’s words, the Margrave replied.

Count Agon asked if there was anything else needed. The Margrave shook his head.

At the Margrave’s half-joking remark, Count Agon burst into hearty laughter.

Count Agon turned around with a smile. His steps and his back looked quite lonely and bitter. As if offering one last piece of advice, Count Agon turned his head to look at the Margrave and Theodora.

Count Agon nodded.

Count Agon stood before the door, unable to open it for a moment, then gave up and opened it, stepping outside.

With that short farewell, Count Agon left the room.

“It is fortunate that he did not insist any further.”

The Margrave murmured as he stared at the closed door.

“Thank you for persuading him, Theodora. I should have spoken more firmly from the beginning.”

Theodora said nothing and simply gazed out the window. The Margrave watched her. Then Theodora suddenly spoke.

The Margrave immediately shook his head.

The Margrave looked at Theodora.

Theodora flinched and nodded. The Margrave gazed into her eyes. He looked at those eyes heavy with dark clouds, at her sorrowful expression. Theodora bit her lip. She knew what she had to do if she wanted to face the battle properly.

The Margrave took a step. Theodora watched him walk toward the closed door and tightly clutched something inside her pocket. Yes. So that she would have no regrets. Theodora repeated it to herself as she closed her eyes.

The Margrave said as he looked at Theodora. She nodded. The decision had not been made by Count Agon alone.

==

As soon as Maxim returned to the quarters prepared for the knights, he let out a ragged breath. This bout of pain seemed to last quite a while. Perhaps it would continue like this from now on. Maxim removed his thin outer garment and checked the scar. His fingers passed over the scar, but the skin they touched still had no sensation. Yet beneath it—slightly deeper inside his body—there was a burning sensation as if seared by fire. It was bearable, but still quite a difficult pain.

“How long will it last?”

It was a question about this pain, and also about his own life. Maxim picked up the clothes he had set aside.

“Will I be able to fight?”

If he activated his aura one more time, he would surely be finished. Whether that end would be death or something else, he did not know. Maxim put his clothes back on. While soldiers outside were building fortifications, the knights were absorbed in their individual training. Paola, who had been with him, had probably gone off to train as well, saying she would sharpen all her senses. There was no real training method available to Maxim. Swinging his sword a few times was all he could do. Right now, he had come to this room separately to check on his poor physical condition.

The enemy’s advance had not yet been observed. However, the Behemoth’s roar filled with rage had been clearly audible even during their retreat. It was a moment when the survival instinct of every living being was stimulated more strongly than ever. How far had it come? Could they survive against that Behemoth?

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Maxim’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was a very timid and cautious knock. It couldn’t be Paola or Roberto, then. Maxim thought as he approached the door.

“Who is it?”

And Maxim faced a situation that made him think, Oh no. When he opened the door, Theodora was standing there. He had thought she would continue avoiding him for a while longer. What could have brought her here? What did she make of his expression? Theodora looked at Maxim’s face and hesitated, her lips twitching as if she wanted to speak.

When Maxim called her name as if asking what the matter was, her expression finally relaxed with relief and color returned to her face. What had she been so worried about?

Theodora nodded and stepped into Maxim’s room.

Maxim asked in a flat voice. He had a rough idea of what Theodora had come to say.

Theodora began. Maxim nodded to show he was listening.

Maxim nodded once more, as if he had expected it.

Theodora corrected him. Maxim raised an eyebrow.

At Maxim’s words, Theodora shook her head.

Theodora’s clear eyes, which had been submerged in ash-gray, had now turned closer to the color of dark clouds. Maxim waited for her to explain what she meant.

Maxim’s golden eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shook for the first time. Ah, Theodora. Saying something like that right now is unfair.

Maxim spoke to Theodora in a voice that barely maintained composure.

It wasn’t working. Theodora was showing that stubborn look she used to direct at her former lover.

Theodora’s words once again shook Maxim’s eyes. He was at a loss for words for a moment.

Theodora’s voice was desperate, pleading. Maxim recalled the memories of the past and barely pushed her away.

Theodora took Maxim’s hand. He could not shake it off and simply felt its warmth.

Maxim squeezed her hand.

Were Theodora’s eyes shaking just like his? Maxim lifted his head and met her gaze.

Something deep inside Theodora trembled. She spoke in a shaking voice.

The dark clouds in Theodora’s eyes began to gather even heavier moisture.

Maxim spoke as if pleading. Theodora seemed to pull her body back, yet she did not avert her eyes from his. And then, in an instant—when Maxim, whose physical condition was far from normal, had completely let down his guard.

“?!”

Theodora’s lips met Maxim’s. Maxim felt as if his mind had been painted completely white as he received the kiss. Theodora’s lips were still incredibly soft and moist. Maxim could not even think of pushing her away; he simply pressed his lips to hers and intertwined their tongues. Theodora’s hand slid down from his cheek and stroked his neck. The kiss was very brief, yet to Maxim it felt like an eternity.

Leaving Maxim sitting there in a daze, Theodora stood up. Suddenly, Maxim felt a stinging pain in his neck.

Strength drained from his body. Maxim tried to stand, but his eyelids grew heavy. The demon of sleep seized his ankles and began to sink his consciousness into the deepest depths. His vision blurred. Maxim resisted the drowsiness until the very end, calling Theodora’s name with a slurred tongue. Behind Theodora, standing in the open doorway, was a woman with long golden hair—an all-too-familiar figure.

And then Maxim’s vision was swallowed by complete darkness.