Chapter 59
Chapter 59
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: The One Drop
-----------------------------------------------------------------
‘He can’t even handle aura, yet he struts around pretending to be a knight. Don’t you think?’
‘I can hear you, you know.’
‘That’s the point.’
In my youth, when I had to prove my worth, I was always met with mockery and jealousy.
My innate inability to wield aura and my black hair made me the constant target of rumors.
But I endured it, over and over.
No, I had no choice but to endure.
All I had back then was the title of the king’s squire and my still-inadequate skills.
Laughter echoing wherever I passed.
Knight after nameless knight openly insulting me.
My self-esteem began to eat away at itself, putting the brakes on my achievements, and I came to a halt.
But there was one person who boldly shouted at those mockers.
‘Have you no shame?’
The prime minister, seated in a place I wouldn’t dare even glance at, defended me and scolded them.
The remembering bird, whom I’d never exchanged words with, stepped forward for the honor of another.
That was the first time I cried.
Not because the knights had been chased off in disgrace, but because she believed in the potential I held.
And so, I picked up my sword again.
And saw it through to the end.
Flutter!
I opened the stiffly frozen tent flap.
A soldier on duty, clearing snow in the early dawn light, greeted me.
“Good morning, sir.”
“...Yeah. Is everyone gathered?”
“Yes, sir! They all arrived early and are waiting.”
I’d told them to come on time, but it seemed they’d been quite worried.
I shook my head with a wry smile and walked toward the main command tent where my comrades awaited.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
A lot of snow had fallen overnight.
And just as the snow had piled up through the night, the passion in my heart had considerably cooled.
Wasn’t it truly ridiculous?
The resentment that had built up for years had stopped with just one warm hand.
Considering the mess I’d caused in the meantime, it was an emotion so fleeting it left me feeling empty.
But thinking of it this way brought relief.
I had perhaps wanted someone to push my back, and Snow-Covered had noticed that unknown feeling in me and filled that role.
With lighter shoulders than usual, I opened the tent flap where presences could be felt.
Yesterday, I’d been a man swayed by emotions; today, I needed to be a soldier preparing for war.
Flutter!
“You’re here.”
Everyone was gathered.
As I entered, the commanders rose from their seats, meeting my eyes, and even Snow-Covered, seated at the head, stood up.
I nodded to the Gray Wolf, the only one who spoke, and approached the table.
Nearby stood the properly attired remembering bird and Rough Oats.
Snow-Covered spoke first.
“The prime minister must be exhausted. I’m sorry for summoning you so early.”
“...Watch your words, Your Majesty.”
“This isn’t a formal occasion, so let’s keep it casual. Besides, I haven’t even received the crown yet, hehe.”
The remembering bird, who had helped greatly the night before, bowed her head apologetically.
But Snow-Covered, not wanting to stiffen the atmosphere she’d just eased, added a touch of playfulness to relax everyone.
Everyone’s expressions weren’t bad.
She’d noticed that my gaze toward the remembering bird wasn’t complicated.
But it was too early to celebrate.
There were still the hurdles of reality and the problems we each needed to resolve.
I nailed it down with a firm voice.
“We cannot change strategy for the sake of individuals. This is a war for the North and humanity, not for us personally.”
Depending on the strategy and judgments of the commanders, the number of casualties changes.
This defensive formation was designed to minimize losses and secure victory.
But to launch an unfavorable offensive just to save one person?
Even if that person in peril were me, I could never allow it.
“...The greater good is for the whole, not for selfish desires. You’re right.”
Even the Gray Wolf, equal in rank to me, agreed, and those gathered couldn’t hide their regretful sighs.
There was no counterargument, no justification.
You a handful, me a handful.
The weight of life is equal for all.
Forget that, and all that returns is hypocrisy staining honor.
Snow-Covered readily acknowledged it.
“I think the same. We can’t sacrifice the people who followed us trusting only in us.”
The remembering bird despaired.
Rough Oats bowed his heavy head.
Even Snow-Covered, who had defended them, was so resolute—the outcome was plain as day.
“But.”
“- - - - - - -.”
With those words, the atmosphere shifted.
I drew a deep breath and locked eyes with Snow-Covered as she rose from her seat.
The aura of kingly potential that had wafted faintly until now had thickened into tangible form.
Snow-Covered, eyes sparkling, said to me,
“If there’s a way to save everyone, I believe we must do it.”
Saving the individual is a poor plan; winning the war is middling; saving the individual and still winning the war is superior.
Snow-Covered was clearly proposing the superior path.
I asked back.
“What is that method?”
From this moment, it was no longer a mere mentor and disciple talking—it was commanders debating strategy.
I met head-on the eyes of Snow-Covered as she stood tall, her gaze fierce.
But our king stepped forward without yielding an inch to her mentor, me.
“Lead the cavalry around to a direction the enemy can’t see, then strike from behind.”
“That’s a tactic Ogmar can easily anticipate. Haven’t I repeatedly warned of the risk of being countered?”
“Yes, you said if the timing doesn’t align, we’d be picked off one by one. But the ‘behind’ I mean isn’t the main force.”
Usually, a cavalry bypass meant targeting the enemy’s flank without a shield wall in a minor sense, or aiming for the marching or encamped main body.
But Snow-Covered seemed to view the premise differently as she asked Blue Hand, who handled Northern Army intelligence.
“Sir, how many encampments have we captured and destroyed so far in total?”
“...Including the small ones?”
“Yes, easiest by clan banners.”
“Then 22.”
“And the main force banners confirmed by scouts?”
“Total 18.”
Northern encampments: 42. Ours captured: 22. Advancing banners: 18.
What did these numbers mean?
Snow-Covered reminded us of a fact we already knew.
“Orcs are organized by clans. Isolated Northern encampments even more so.”
“...So the main force is 18 allied clans?”
A brief silence followed.
I let out a heavy breath, and the Gray Wolf widened his eyes in disbelief.
“The capital is empty?”
“Precisely, only two clans are left there.”
Ogmar, determined, had taken every orc except two clans northward.
Simply put, it hinted at their massive scale, but paradoxically revealed a vulnerability.
The capital, seat of the governor, was empty.
The bypass maneuver Snow-Covered meant was aimed not at Ogmar’s main force, but the capital.
Blue Hand asked urgently.
“Can we time it right?”
“Cavalry can. The Sword Saint knows paths for a small force to infiltrate. With the knight order, it’ll be enough.”
I even knew how many stones made up Snowgarden’s walls.
Moreover, if only two clans guarded that massive fortress, I was confident I could slit every orc throat by dawn.
Reclaim the capital where the governor resides.
No matter how battle-hardened Ogmar was, he couldn’t win a war with his rearmost base captured.
Gulp.
All eyes turned to Snow-Covered.
Our king put the finishing touch on it all, speaking to the remembering bird.
“Take skilled trackers with you. The moment the enemy main force retreats, Sir Oats will help you find your daughter.”
She’d thought of everything, even the endgame.
I quietly closed my eyes, reviewing each point Snow-Covered had raised.
Of course, there were spots to refine midway, but crucially, she fully grasped the battlefield and pinpointed the vital weakness.
A sudden doubt arose, and I asked,
“Why didn’t you speak up sooner?”
“We were one drop short.”
“One drop?”
“Yes, the one drop to fill the vessel.”
To hold back such a brilliant idea for just one drop— I couldn’t tell if it was humility or extreme caution.
But the doubt was fleeting; following Snow-Covered’s smiling gaze, I realized what that drop was.
The remembering bird bowed deeply, tears of sincerity falling in drops.
Snow-Covered had waited and waited for that one drop, and today it had found its vessel.
‘The world is too big, and I’m too small. Can someone like me do it?’
‘Dreaming big is no sin.’
Sometimes I think that.
That the new world Snow-Covered dreams of might be higher and nobler than the ideal I’ve chased my whole life.
‘Then I shall dream big.’
She’d planned this from the start.
I couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the bold Snow-Covered.
The strategy Snow-Covered proposed was fleshed out by the Gray Wolf and me, adding the sturdy frame and meat, reviewing and refining it.
Thus, a solid operations plan was completed and hurriedly conveyed to unit commanders and deputies via short notes and word of mouth.
But it didn’t matter that it was hastily assembled.
The White-Horned Deer Cavalry just needed to memorize it; the main base only had to know their role.
The Northern Army had to hold out while the detached unit reclaimed the capital.
The Gray Wolf, now overall commander of them, had said to me with a resolute face,
‘I’ll hold even if it kills me. So bring these back to them.’
‘The capital, hope, and reconstruction.’
How long had we waited for this day?
On the eve of reclaiming our eternal aspiration, the capital, we couldn’t hide our swelling hearts.
Just one more step, and we could rebuild the Northern Kingdom for humanity once again.
Shing.
I slowly drew my sword.
Its still-keen blade reflected my face and heart, confirming my resolve.
I sheathed it.
Then tied it to my waist and mounted the waiting deer without hesitation.
Snort!
Clop, clop, clop.
Pulling the reins while gazing at the winter sky as the sun began to set, I felt a slight resistance.
The White-Horned Deer I’d fought alongside knew what day this was.
Once I soothed its snorting and urged it forward, the orange-tinted world soon filled with hooves.
But at the end, waiting for me, was neither a nostalgic past nor forgotten reminiscence, but the remembering bird, preserving her old form unchanged.
Clop, clop, clop.
Snort!
Why was she out in the cold?
I slowly guided the deer toward her, shivering in the chill.
“Here...”
Then the remembering bird, as if she’d been waiting, extended both hands she’d clutched preciously.
In her reddened, frozen hands was a handkerchief handmade from rough wool.
“Haha.”
The childish, outdated prank of giving a knight heading to battle a handkerchief.
But since it meant return safely, I unhesitatingly offered my sheath.
Tight.
She tied her handmade handkerchief firmly atop the sheath I extended.
Then clasped her hands politely and bowed her inevitably heavy head.
The remembering bird said,
“...I abandoned you and fled alone. Didn’t you resent someone like me?”
“I did. Of course I hated you.”
The emotions I felt for her then were affection, respect, and reliance all at once.
Because only the remembering bird filled the void left by the departed king and hero.
But when I confirmed the returned palace was empty, those feelings shattered like a broken sword.
“Sword Saint, I’m truly sorry.”
She reached out with trembling hands.
And gripped my hand clutching the sheath firmly, regretting the past days.
What a cruel era.
I rusted away like this, while she remained unchanged from that happy memory.
Gentle, wise, warm as she was then.
But I released the clasped hand.
Slip.
“Ah...”
I smiled brightly at the remembering bird’s regretful sigh.
And gripped the reins again, fully sorting the emotions that had settled within me.
“It wasn’t your fault. In the end, we each had something we wanted to protect.”
“...Is that so?”
“Yeah, that’s how it was.”
I kicked the stirrups below the saddle.
The White-Horned Deer surged forward as if waiting, shaking off all lingering attachments.
The bowing bird became a tiny dot, and I became a line racing over the snow.
Clop, clop, clop, clop!
Snowflakes turned my hair white.
The black-haired outsider would leave behind that place, his happiest time, and go.