Chapter 325
Chapter 325
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 325
>Chapter Title: And So Everyone...
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There were two reasons I hesitated to dispose of Salrie.
First, because Salrie wasn't the "Salrie" I knew from my previous life.
And second.
‘……Is this the right thing to do?’
Ridiculously, my shallow conscience was holding me back.
I had torn apart Freizen, that fated enemy, without a second thought. Yet Salrie's appearance, so utterly different from her past life self, made it impossible for me to act decisively.
It was something unimaginable in my previous life.
Why?
Even without our bad blood, Salrie's life...
‘……was the surest means to stop the Decullans.’
But I was hesitating, and the "crimes" she would commit in the "future" weren't justification enough.
In other words, this was a matter of my conscience...
"It was a time of chaos."
I pushed aside my tangled thoughts and tuned in to the headmaster's predecessor's voice.
"Children gripped spears and swords, and it wasn't all that strange back then. And in that era, there was a young mage."
The mage was a rising star in the military, a young soldier on the fast track. He hadn't started out as one, but repeated battlefields had forged him into a true soldier.
"He was originally an academy student. But... the young mage didn't mind. In fact, he welcomed it. The academy fees were piling up unpaid, and his family was declining day by day. Without the war, he might not have been able to finish the academy at all."
It was a thoroughly selfish mindset.
But according to the headmaster's predecessor, it wasn't all that unusual for the time.
In any case.
"For the young mage, the war was an opportunity. Better than peace, even. Because... in peace, there were no opportunities to seize."
The family's debts grew daily. The催促 letters piled up.
Unfortunately, making big money in peacetime wasn't easy for a young mage.
But war was different.
"The head of an enemy commander was worth this much, victory bonuses that much... Lucky to be a mage. And being noble made it easier to get credit for merits."
Exactly five years.
Time enough for a boy to become a young man, a mage to become a soldier.
In those five years, the young mage paid off his family's debts entirely.
Debts massive enough to shake a whole house—it went without saying how much blood stained his hands.
"While other soldiers flailed in terror of dying any moment, the young mage lay awake every night. Every night felt like the eve of his academy enrollment, thrilling and electric."
By then, the headmaster's predecessor no longer hid that the young mage was himself.
He didn't state it outright, but listening to the story made it obvious.
"As the badges on my chest multiplied, the faded glory of my family that once seemed to drag me down became wings. Those who ignored us in our fall now reached out one by one, citing old ties. It was... a sweet time."
He called it a "sweet time," but no emotion colored the headmaster's predecessor's voice.
As if he didn't even know what sweetness meant.
"People stopped looking human. So... yes, they were stairs. Stairs to lead me and my family higher. And in reality, it wasn't much different. Kill more, climb higher. No guilt. The 'family' became my 'justification.'"
Before long, the young mage was consumed by the mission to lead his family higher.
No, he clung to that mission. Perhaps it was the only way to justify his actions.
"I kept killing. The badges on my uniform just kept growing."
As badges increased, so did rank. Higher rank meant a more prosperous family.
A thriving family was the young mage's perfect justification. An absolution in itself.
"...Then one day."
An order came from high command.
"A secret operation."
The task was simple.
Cut off supplies heading to the enemy's key stronghold.
"A death-defying mission. To block supplies, we'd have to plunge deep into enemy territory. Getting in was risky enough, but getting out... Once you're leaving, they'll be chasing you."
Had to carve through the heart of enemy lines.
The team couldn't be large, given the mission.
A handful of knights, a few mages at most.
"Practically suicide. And yet... I liked it."
"......"
"High risk meant high reward, and I had plenty of comrades eager to volunteer for such things."
Trusted allies, massive rewards.
That moved the young mage.
The order from high command left no room for refusal anyway, but he chose to charge into the jaws of death himself.
"The wind was cool."
The headmaster's predecessor gazed into the past with dry eyes, calmly recounting his feelings from then.
"The sky was vast. Summer, but it felt like autumn. The foreign soil I stepped on for the first time wasn't so different from our empire's. Maybe it was natural, but back then, it felt so novel. Perhaps the political propaganda demonizing the enemy as devils or monsters had seeped into me without my knowing. Anyway... it wasn't all that different."
Of course, that sentiment didn't affect the mission. The young mage knew from the start the enemy weren't monsters or devils—they were people.
It was only natural their lands weren't some fairy-tale demon realm.
And so, with a small detachment, they crossed enemy lines. In the sweltering summer, they crawled through bug-infested dirt over a mountain. When they had to ford a river, they cleaved through the current at night without a single boat.
"Smooth sailing."
A grueling forced march, but the mage-and-knight detachment didn't tire.
Harsh natural conditions were no issue. The real terror was people, not nature.
"The mission itself wasn't hard."
Perhaps because they'd penetrated so deep?
Enemy supply guards weren't that fierce.
Even the enemy hadn't imagined it.
That the empire would divert mages valuable enough for a strike team.
The empire was then in chaos from internal rebellion and assaults from all sides, barely holding the front lines.
Thus.
"One spell, and hundreds of soldiers vanished under rubble. Didn't wipe out the supply train, but we cut the route—mission accomplished. The real trouble started then."
A desperate flight for life.
Before a day passed, soldiers blanketed the area. How they had the manpower, every mountain crossing brought mages and knights blocking the way.
"So many died."
The sixteen who set out halved before reaching friendly lines, and half of those were clearly doomed soon.
But there was no despair. They'd steeled themselves for it from the start.
"Death wasn't so foreign then. Death that always brushed past was finally right in front. Badges mattered more than life. A heartbeat didn't prove you lived—a badge did."
But naturally, no one wanted to die.
The detachment fought desperately to survive, rampaging through enemy territory to shake pursuit.
"...Even now, I wonder. If only..."
The headmaster's predecessor's eyes trembled faintly.
He trailed off, lips twitching as if glued shut, before finally speaking.
"...If we hadn't taken that path then."
A mountain hollow they fled into to evade pursuers.
There, the detachment encountered a group of soldiers.
Or could you even call them that?
"Children."
In an age where pens were swapped for swords and school uniforms for army fatigues as a matter of course, these kids were far too young. Younger than any child soldier the young mage had seen on the battlefield—even younger than himself on his first deployment.
Around twenty of them.
Of course, if that were all, the detachment wouldn't have hesitated.
No matter their story, if they wore uniforms and gripped spears and swords, there was no need to think twice.
"Someone said it. If they'd just been a year or two older, we wouldn't have hesitated."
Kids swimming in oversized uniforms. Kids who looked like they'd be flung aside by the swords at their waists.
One even held a staff, claiming to be a mage, but could she cast proper spells?
Even the detachment split on it.
"Some said detour around. At that level, they wouldn't spot us. Others said clear them out. Collapse the pass, delay pursuit a day or two. And another said..."
—Let's capture their commander alive.
When asked why, the knight replied.
—From a glimpse earlier, they looked young and green. If we handle it right, we could rattle their encirclement by working their commander.
"Handle" was the word, but everyone knew what it meant.
Normally, they'd have accepted without question. But the hesitation stemmed from nothing else.
...Shallow conscience.
"What a joke."
Men who'd taken dozens, even hundreds of lives, now tripped by conscience.
But there was no argument.
No one condemned the proposing knight.
Why?
"It was the pragmatic choice. No one could deny that. Even the silent ones couldn't make sense of themselves. This was a battlefield, they were soldiers. So why..."
An impatient knight scolded the silent ones.
—What are you hesitating for? Soldiers gripping spears and swords, mages chanting spells. Can't you see the knight badges pinned on them?
They had to choose.
"Detour was impossible. Couldn't afford the delay. So collapse the pass or follow the knight's plan..."
There, the headmaster's predecessor clamped his mouth shut. His eyes trembled again.
From his reaction, it wasn't hard to guess what he'd chosen.
"You... chose pragmatism."
"Yes, we followed the knight."
"......"
I stayed silent.
So did the headmaster's predecessor.
A heavy silence settled between us, unbroken until much later when he spoke again.
"...They weren't soldiers."
"......"
"Found out after the war. They were reinforcements rushed in while chasing us. A mix-up happened. They dragged in kids several years younger than the intended conscripts."
An absurd mistake.
The kind that beggars belief.
But it was already done, and he couldn't deny the truth.
"If we hadn't met them that day..."
A few days later, the kids might have shed their uniforms. Sure, they'd be dragged back to the front years after.
...But a question arose as I listened.
"Predecessor, when you say it was a grave error..."
"Don't you get it?"
"No, I don't."
At my calm reply, he looked at me with rippling eyes.
I couldn't grasp the emotion in them at first, but when he spoke again, I understood.
"...You've become jaded too."
It was pity.
And empathy.
"Junior."
"...Yes."
"Don't make the same mistake as this old man."
"......"
"Once you cross the line once, twice is easy. After twice, you'll find no reluctance in your heart. And so everyone... becomes a monster."
He paused there, looking at me, then added one last thing.
"You don't want to end up like me or Grand Duke Muspellun, do you?"