Chapter 44
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: The Aurelinople Offensive
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When I returned from my reconnaissance mission, I was met with a familiar face.
Ria.
Ria Alter Tassalpo.
Her blond hair, which once flowed with the elegance of an imperial noble, had faded to a stark white, losing its luster and bounce.
“Would it be strange to say it’s been a while?”
As she offered the somewhat shy and awkward greeting, her eyes, meeting mine, were the same golden dragon eyes as my own.
That ‘sameness’ brought more sorrow than comfort.
Was this the fate of a FakeWarrior—for one’s path in life to follow the same course as one’s appearance?
“You’ve already been commissioned.”
“It took me the same amount of time as you.”
“It took me eight months, and you… eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, one, two… Yeah.”
“My master laughed and said she finally had something to brag about to Lady Camilla. She was with Head Instructor Olier at the time.”
“Isn’t it just that the commissioning process was shortened because the war situation is so dire?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re not implying I’m incompetent and just got lucky, are you?”
When I just shrugged and kept my mouth shut, Ria narrowed her eyes and pressed me.
But only for a moment. We both shook our heads slightly and exchanged a weary laugh.
It was a sound that resonated deep within my memory.
Perhaps it was because her laughter still held the playful mischief of the girl she was before becoming a warrior.
It faintly reminded me of our time together in <Aquitaina>.
“You haven’t changed a bit.”
At that, Ria gave a bitter smile.
“That’s thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me?”
“Because back then, you kept my master from dying a meaningless death… If that had happened, I don’t know what would have become of me.”
Sharon Alter Tassalpo, she said, had passed away after seeing Ria commissioned.
Unlike her old friend.
She had lived to see her disciple come of age and inherit her holy sword.
And unlike her friend who had died first.
She was able to share many joys, sorrows, and memories in the quiet of a prepared farewell.
And again, unlike the friend she could no longer meet.
She had also been able to meet her old friend at the [Hall of Heroic Swords], share many stories, and even pass on her teachings to the younger generation.
“It’s all thanks to you. She was grateful to you until the very moment she closed her eyes.”
Her words were emotionally restrained.
Words spoken only after chewing on her sorrow time and again, suppressing it.
Having experienced it first, I could clearly read the sorrow of a separation so final that nothing could bridge it.
“You know… when my master died, there wasn’t enough time. We had so much to say to each other, but there was no time, so all I could do was listen.”
“Kaisen.”
“I hoped you and Senior Sharon wouldn’t have to go through that. I’m glad it turned out well for you.”
Now, I could never go see her again, never speak with her again.
But the longing to see her never faded…
Whenever I spoke of my master, I couldn’t stop the pain that surged from the hole in my chest.
“Thank you. Seeing you able to speak so calmly, you seem to be okay. I was very worried.”
“Why?”
“Why? …You don’t have to pretend you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“Don’t the reconnaissance teams know? Was it only mentioned in the strategy meeting?”
Ria pressed her brow as if at a loss, mumbling a few times before finally answering.
“The Uruk clan defending <Aurelinople>… its leader is the Kiral Clan.”
“…!”
“The one that annihilated the White Skeleton Corps and the Black Rose Corps at <Aristapo> around this time last year…”
All-Out War,
The Aurelinople Offensive (2)
“As you all know, <Aurelinople> was a key strategic point for the old republic during the years of war.”
But ironically.
Or perhaps, as was only natural.
Now that it has fallen, it has become the primary base for the Abyss’s territorial invasion.
“However, the demon army’s central forces are weaker than ever after their crushing defeat at Mauna Loa. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to capture <Aurelinople>.”
This was the first chance they had been given…
And at the same time, it might be the last.
If they missed this chance, the conquest of <Aurelinople> and the southern campaign beyond it might never begin.
“But what are we to do?”
Grand Marshal Melvin spoke up.
“<Aurelinople> was one of the seven great cities of the past. Its defenses are truly worthy of being called impregnable.”
“Furthermore, the defending enemy force consists of an 800,000-strong Uruk army led by the Kiral Clan, and a 200,000-strong Bloodkin army led by the Pale Viscount!”
Vice Marshal Renatal added his voice.
“If we include all the minor demon tribes besides the six great ones, their numbers are estimated to easily exceed five million. The entire central front will gather there.”
“In comparison, even if we consolidate the entire Mountain Defense Force, our numbers are only 1.2 million. And that figure assumes we abandon all our other defenses.”
“Abandoning the mountain defenses would be too risky, wouldn’t it? Our win rate in battles outside of fixed positions has been less than twenty percent.”
Grand Marshal Asiwolf asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
“If you intend to commit to an all-out war, who will break through the Kiral Clan’s cavalry?”
“The Kiral Clan commands the most elite cavalry units among the High Tarks! The might and cruelty of their wolf riders have been proven in countless battles!”
“Indeed, even the undefeated White Skeleton Corps was annihilated by the Kiral last year…”
The grand marshals, vice marshals, and field-grade officers exchanged brief sighs, glancing cautiously at Kaisen.
Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel.
The direct disciple of Camilla Alter Aradamanthel, who fell in that battle, and the sole survivor of that field of slaughter.
“The Kiral, with their cavalry focus, have been struggling since the war in the Red Mountains shifted to siege warfare, but a battle on the plains is another matter…”
“The mountain defense line is still holding strong. Is there really a need to take such a dangerous gamble…?”
“Your Excellency, if we must advance, how about we first crush the Kiral in the mountains before we move out?”
This was the first time the commanders had so actively challenged a decision made by the Blue Star.
That was how comfortable a place the Red Mountains had become for humanity.
The Blue Star quietly closed his eyes at the limitations of humanity, which saw only the present and not the future.
“The decision stands. The entire army will march at this time tomorrow.”
“In that case… who on earth will face the Kiral Clan…?”
“Leave it to me.”
A voice suddenly emerged from the silent ranks of the FakeWarriors.
All eyes immediately turned in that direction, and upon seeing who had spoken, most swallowed the protests that were about to spill from their lips.
Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel. The military honors his name had accumulated in such a short time were that great.
“You will do it?”
“Yes, Your Excellency Melvin.”
“This is nothing like cutting down three thousand from the Tahup Clan or charging the Nuiwigeen Clan. What is your plan?”
“I will break through the front—the west gate, which leads from the plains.”
“Are you serious? This battle is different. The scale of the enemy is on another level! Countless great commanders have been trampled under the Kiral’s feet and vanished like dew on the battlefield!”
“It will not be a problem.”
“It wasn’t just your master! Eltire Alter Pladimarte also died at the hands of the Kiral when <Aurelinople> fell! And you think you can break through their front line alone?”
Grand Marshal Melvin’s voice represented the doubts of everyone present.
Perhaps it was also a reprimand for the recklessness of a young man casting the sole vote of approval amidst a sea of opposition.
The Blue Star’s serene eyes, along with a pure white light, turned to Kaisen.
“I originally intended to order the Iron Cross to lead the frontal assault. But you, Kaisen, I was going to place you elsewhere. Do you know why?”
“I do not.”
“It is because I foresaw a future where you would be consumed by vengeance and lose your composure. In ninety-nine futures out of a hundred, you lost your calm and died there.”
Suddenly, the image of the White Skeleton Corps flashed before my eyes.
In that memory, rain fell upon the corpses—split by axes, crushed by maces, torn apart by wolves.
I remembered Eltram, the white bear, ravaged by over a hundred arrows and axe blades, his body so mangled that white bones protruded from his fur.
I remembered Camilla’s final smile as she died in the rain, and I recalled the warmth of the tears that streamed down her face.
Those bodies I could not retrieve.
Those corpses that could never be recovered.
How did they rot, how did they wither away in the volcanic ash?
Hundreds of times…?
No, thousands…
I couldn’t even mourn the end of their lives, which I had pictured in my mind and heart over and over.
That I alone survived…
That I alone escaped that death and continued to live like this…
I felt I could never face them again…
A fire blazed from the hole drilled deep in my chest, beyond it into the depths of my soul, and I had to keep swallowing my dry saliva.
For Kaisen, a memorial service was not…
…a time for grieving and weeping, but a ritual of the sword, repaying those deaths with deaths of the same kind.
“I have no confidence I can maintain my composure. Nor do I have any intention to.”
“…”
“But I will cut them all down and break through. And I will not die.”
Again, the murmuring in the hall grew louder.
Gorgotia Alter Zierda whistled, while Seira and Ria, who understood his thirst for revenge, quietly closed their eyes.
The Blue Star asked again.
“Even if I forbid you from unleashing your Dragon Spirit there?”
The Blue Star knew of the mortals’ power to turn emotion into strength.
That heat which poured out and erupted from within them was a geyser of power for the warriors.
And in that heat, the warriors’ bodies wore down and died. Like firewood that burns itself to light the world before fading away.
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
The worried murmurs grew louder.
“To face the Kiral without releasing his Dragon Spirit…”
“Without your Dragon Spirit, aren’t you weaker than the other FakeWarriors…!”
Cutting through the commotion like a sword, the head FakeWarrior, Roveris Alter Scherpang, spoke.
“The Iron Cross will support Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel with its full strength, so there is no need for concern.”
“What…?”
“You agree with this…!”
“You think this impossible breakthrough can succeed…?”
“If the Blue Star commands it, our duty as FakeWarriors is to obey. I am merely fulfilling my duty.”
The Blue Star closed his eyes for a moment.
Behind those eyes, veiled by pure white lashes, countless futures unseen and unseeable by humans unfolded.
After a long while, when all the murmuring had subsided into silence, his eyes opened quietly, like a blooming flower.
“I entrust the assault on the west gate of <Aurelinople> to Roveris Alter Scherpang’s Iron Cross Knight Order and Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel.”
* * *
“Thank you for your help.”
As we moved to the Iron Cross’s camp after the sortie meeting concluded, I expressed my sincere gratitude to Roveris.
“You only need to promise me two things.”
“Please, tell me.”
“Break through the front, but don’t act like a moth drawn to a flame. I won’t come to your aid if you do. I have no intention of ordering my subordinates to a dog’s death.”
“You don’t have to worry.”
“Oh, and there’s no need to thank me.”
Roveris said, punching Kaisen in the center of his chest.
“You’re not the only one who wants to avenge her. And we owe the Kiral more debts than just that one.”
“…What is the other thing?”
“Make this the last time you display your emotions. Especially an emotion like vengeance.”
“Why is that?”
“That is what a warrior must be. You must be able to create a positive atmosphere, not a negative one.”
As she finished speaking.
Roveris felt like a sage peering beyond this world, into the very source of existence.
“Kaisen, surpass your master. And become a hero like her master, Lady Raminea.”