Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: 16. Fate (1)
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Sir Hernando opened one of the tents and began healing the wounded.
“Sir Hernando!”
“Ah, Priest.”
Jermain, the Brioll army's field priest, pushed open the tent flap and stepped inside.
“Goodness, why didn't you call me? Why go through this alone?”
“Hahaha. You need your rest too, Priest Jermain.”
“No, no.”
Jermain placed a hand over his heart and declared,
“As a servant spreading the will of the gods, how could I use the frailty of the flesh as an excuse? If my sacrifice can bring peace to the many, I offer my body willingly.”
“Your faith runs deep.”
“Of course.”
Jermain fetched a chair and sat beside Hernando.
“Now, knights, come to me.”
The tent held not just knights but many soldiers as well. Yet Jermain specifically called for the knights.
“I'll heal you. The will of the gods will be conveyed to you knights.”
But hardly any knights approached him.
He was a priest who wielded holy spells, but Sir Hernando's standard healing magic was far superior.
“It's fine. Come on over. Hahaha...”
At that, a soldier from the back line quickly sat before Jermain.
Jermain's eyebrow twitched faintly. But he said nothing and began the treatment.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Here...”
A white light emanated from his hand. The pain soon began to subside.
The soldier bowed in gratitude and left the tent. One by one, others began lining up before Jermain.
Cory, who had been assisting Sir Hernando, poured water and placed it on Jermain's table.
“Priest, have some water while you work.”
“Hm...?”
He glanced at Cory in slight surprise, then nodded.
“Yes.”
Cory could sense the aversion from Jermain. The fact that Cory was a half-orc had already spread throughout the unit.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Sure.”
Cory stepped back and watched as Hernando and Jermain healed the people.
Each time a white light poured from their hands, the groans of those suffering from wounds quieted.
Cory watched their twisted faces relax into peace.
“It hurts so much here. Please, please...”
“Why did you come so late?”
“I thought it'd be fine...”
“The wound's festering.”
Jermain furrowed his brow.
“Cory.”
“Yes.”
“Fetch some water. Clean water.”
“Right away.”
Cory hurried off.
One leg was shorter than the other from birth, and crooked besides, so no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't run fast. But he limped along as quickly as he could to fetch the water.
Jermain chanted a spell over the bucket Cory brought.
“This water is now holy water. It'll disinfect the wound. Bear the pain.”
He poured the water from the bucket over the wound. White foam bubbled up.
A stifled groan escaped the soldier's lips.
“The holy water's reacting to the foul energy in the wound.”
“It stings too much.”
“Endure it.”
“Ugh...”
“Cory, wipe it once.”
“Yes.”
Cory fetched a clean cloth and wiped the wound.
Light poured from Jermain's hand again. The soldier's face gradually relaxed.
“Done. Next.”
Jermain wiped sweat from his brow.
Hernando and Jermain continued healing people. While Hernando remained serene, Jermain clearly looked exhausted.
Sensing Cory's gaze, Jermain spoke.
“Sir Hernando's an exceptional mage. Don't stare like that.”
“Ah, no. Just let me know if I can help.”
“Some cool water, then.”
Jermain gulped down a glass of water and resumed his holy spells.
Thanks to their swift response, there were no severe injuries.
As things wound down, Jermain rose from his seat. His priestly robes were soaked through with sweat.
“Lucky it ended like this.”
“The war hasn't even started yet.”
“It'll be brutal. I'm already worried. May the gods watch over us...”
“What are you doing, Cory?”
“I'll clean up.”
“Tomorrow. Tomorrow.”
The three left the tent.
“Oh...”
Night had deepened, but the area around the barracks was still brightly lit.
Soldiers sat in a circle around a large bonfire.
Soon, an unnamed soldier picked up a lute and began to sing.
His voice was quite fine.
“That's life for you.”
Hernando smiled faintly.
Cory scanned the faces one by one.
Some were the wounded from the treatment tent. Faces once contorted in pain now laughed without a care.
Cory felt a strange emotion stirring as he watched.
“They're heading to the battlefield, yet right now, they laugh like that.”
Hernando spread his hands wide.
From the tips of his ten fingers, lines of starlight twisted upward into the sky.
“Wow...”
Cory's eyes widened.
The beams of light Hernando conjured rose into the sky, then undulated like waves.
Against the night sky of the starlit plains, a dazzling display of light unfolded—one Cory had never seen before.
It burst like fireworks at times, or took the shape of beasts frolicking together.
Shifting from red to green, green to blue, it dazzled the eyes with changing colors.
The singing soldier's voice grew even brighter.
Every eye gazing upward reflected a riot of hues.
Cory stepped back to take in the whole spectacle.
Magic.
It called to him.
Suddenly, he felt this moment wouldn't come again.
And so, without thinking, Cory spoke. Words he never would have uttered before.
“Sir Hernando.”
“Hm?”
“Teach me magic.”
As he said it, Cory looked up at Hernando from beneath his hood.
The words felt like his own, yet not—like they belonged to someone else.
It all felt strangely unreal.
Hernando's face, looking down at him, tilted slightly.
Aside from Yuri, Hernando was the only one around who never scowled at him.
Was he offended by the audacity of asking to learn magic? Would even Sir Hernando change his attitude now?
But Cory wasn't even afraid of that.
Behind Hernando's face, the glow of light shone even more brilliantly.
“This is...”
Hernando said,
“Something I haven't seen in ages.”
“Me?”
“Not you.”
Hernando's expression softened as never before.
He reached a hand into Cory's hood.
Cory panicked. No one ever wanted to touch his cheek, yet Hernando stroked it.
“Everyone has a fate granted to them.”
“Fate?”
“Yes. But I can no longer see it. Because of someone, that is.”
Mysterious words.
“Yet I see it in you. Even though he's right there.”
“I don't understand.”
“A fate that wasn't originally yours has come upon you like a lie. So, should we even call it fate?”
Hernando smiled and asked,
“Cory. Why do you suddenly want to learn magic?”
“Well...”
He could have named Yuri. But he didn't want to.
Cory turned to look at the people around the bonfire.
“Because people are smiling.”
Those suffering from wounds found peace. Those heading to war laughed.
He envied that magic—the power that created a glow more beautiful than stars.
“I see.”
Hernando nodded. Just in case, Cory added,
“His Highness recommended it too.”
“Of course he did.”
Hernando burst out laughing.
He was always one for jokes, but Cory had never seen him laugh so heartily.
As his laughter faded, Hernando murmured,
“A half-orc using magic...”
Cory shrank back.
Hernando placed a hand on his shoulder.
“That'd be truly magnificent.”
First time he'd heard such words.
Cory pulled his hood down low.
The corners of his mouth twisted. Puzzled by the unfamiliar twitch of his facial muscles, he glanced at the other soldiers' faces and realized it was a smile.
A expression he'd never made before.
The Brioll army marched briskly toward Balshard.
Orc shadows occasionally appeared in the distance, but they didn't attack directly.
As they moved away from the border, unfamiliar landscapes began to emerge.
“What's that?”
“What're they riding?”
Most notably, orcs riding mysterious beasts appeared.
“Komodo drakes.”
A soldier turned at the sudden reply.
A black-haired boy stood there with arms crossed.
“Your Highness?”
This peculiar prince had a habit of popping up among the soldiers.
Any other noble would have sent them into a panic, but this prince lacked arrogance, making him easy to approach.
“Monsters orcs ride instead of horses.”
“They're huge.”
“They're not common, so you don't see them often. But if you encounter one, run. One bite and the wound festers. Plus, their hide is tough—won't cut without sword aura.”
“I see. Your Highness knows a lot.”
“It's all in the books.”
“Never seen you reading one...”
“I read in secret.”
The komodo drake was two or three times an orc's size, resembling a four-legged lizard. Despite its bulky frame suggesting slowness, it moved so fast its legs blurred when charging.
The orc riders scouting the Brioll army vanished beyond the horizon in an instant.
“Next time, I'll shoot 'em down with arrows.”
“Too far. Won't hit.”
“Still annoying.”
Yuri whistled. His black horse trotted up from behind.
He mounted and took the lead.
The knight order, led by Raymond, guarded the front.
“Heard the news.”
“Pardon?”
Jared tilted his head. Yuri continued,
“Lunch is meat stew seasoned with jerky.”
“Ah, yes...”
“Coordinated with the supply unit. Opened an extra cart.”
“Good.”
“You could say it's thanks to my foresight on orc night raids.”
“Ah, yes. We're proud of you, Your Highness.”
“Every bite, bow toward me.”
They pressed steadily toward Balshard. They might arrive by evening.
“Some nations have already reached Balshard.”
“Already?”
“They came without interference.”
“Lucky them.”
The nations summoned to the Allied Forces converged on Balshard via various routes.
Brioll, bordering the plains, was relatively close, but delays from incidents had cost them time.
“Rest here.”
As the Brioll army halted to prepare lunch,
Two mounted knights approached from afar.
By the time they drew near, the entire army could see them.
Yuri stirred his stew while eyeing their attire. The dark armor looked like Imperial issue.
“Hey.”
Yuri nudged a nearby soldier.
“Y-Yes?”
The man jumped to his feet in surprise.
He'd been fidgeting uncomfortably with Yuri eating beside him.
“Why so jumpy?”
“N-No reason!”
“Newbie? Fresh enlistee?”
“Yes...”
“Perfect. See those two knights coming? Go ask what they want.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“H-How could I handle such an important task...”
“Not important at all.”
“Still...”
Yuri glanced at a veteran nearby. The man immediately scolded,
“You dare refuse when His Highness commands?”
“No, sir!”
“Quit whining. You doing it or not?”
“I-I'll do it.”
The newbie's eyes darted side to side. Yuri grinned and patted his shoulder.
“Just ask their business. Why so scared?”
“I'm not.”
“Good. Off you go.”
“Y-Yes...”
He rose hesitantly, glanced around, then bolted under the sharp stares of Yuri and the veteran.
Yuri slurped his stew while watching.
The soldier sprinted up, talked briefly.
The knights' gazes occasionally flicked toward Yuri.
“Stew's salty.”
Yuri emptied his plate and handed it to a nearby soldier.
“Return this.”
“Yes.”
The soldier was coming back.
Yuri rose with a clank of his sword to greet him. Quick as ever, Rolang and Jared followed.
“Which nation?”
“Empire, probably.”
Yuri knew Imperial armor styles well. He'd fought them countless times in his past life. He even knew the weak points.
Soon the soldier returned, panting.
“Imperial knights, they say. Orc packs roaming near Balshard—they came to warn us, just in case.”
“Thoughtful.”
Yuri nodded.
“Risky for two to travel alone. Confident in their skills, I guess.”
“Shouldn't we meet them since they came all this way?”
“Suppose so.”
The three knights turned to the soldier. Still catching his breath, he said,
“Sh-Should I go back?”
His eyes pleaded. Yuri just sent him off.
“Nah. Good work.”
Instead of sending an envoy, Yuri waved at the two knights.
“You two wave too. Beckon 'em over.”
“What...”
Jared shook his head, but Rolang immediately followed Yuri's lead.
“Why do you copy him right away, Sir Rolang?”
“Sir Jared, hurry.”
“Lord help us...”
In the end, the three waved enthusiastically at the Imperial knights.
Thankfully, they got the message and rode toward the camp.
They dismounted. One tucked his helmet under his arm, revealing his face.
“Greetings. I am Raifio Artem, second son of Count Xenon and knight of the Empire.”
He bowed toward Rolang.
Rolang stepped back in confusion.
“Ah, no. Not me...”
Raifio's gaze shifted to Yuri. Yuri introduced himself.
“I'm Yuri Brioll, Third Prince and commander of the Brioll forces.”
“Ah, my apologies.”
His eyes widened, and he bowed to Yuri.
“I didn't expect His Highness to greet us personally.”
“You came for us. Least I could do.”
“Our thanks for the warm welcome.”
“You arrived at Balshard first?”
“Yes. The Empire's coming in divisions. We're the advance party.”
Raifio explained recent events.
Orc units had appeared near Balshard, killing some troops from early-arriving nations.
“So we're patrolling the area and warning the Allied Forces.”
“Hard work.”
Yuri praised their efforts.
The Empire was his enemy, but the Emperor hadn't shown ambition yet. No need to show hostility to regular knights.
“And that one over there...”
“Ah...”
Raifio glanced back. The retreating knight removed his helmet.
A middle-aged knight with graying hair and wrinkled face.
Yuri's eyes widened.
“Forgive me for not greeting first. I'm in no position to stand proud...”
An unforgettable face.
Unchanged from then or now.
His voice from the past life echoed in Yuri's ears.
Yuri hid his agitation and nodded.
“Graham Hartpol, stripped of his knighthood, dares to bow before Brioll's Third Prince.”
If Imperial Princess Ekaterina was Yuri's sin,
This knight before him was Yuri's shame.
Graham Hartpol.
The most upright and knightly of men, now serving as a lowly volunteer soldier.