Flames of Betrayal
Whooosh!
In the heart of a battlefield swallowed by roaring flames, Arteon sat slumped on the ground, staring up at the man before him with a look of utter desolation.
Moldrek Degrain.
A bastard of the Degrain family — but a noble all the same. A man who carried the pure, untainted blood of the aristocracy, so utterly different from Arteon's own.
Arteon spoke.
"Why…… would you do this…… koff!"
Blood gushed from his mouth with the cough, but his eyes never left Moldrek.
"We served you like dogs for the last ten years…… Why would you—!"
His low voice twisted, rising into a raw scream.
Moldrek only looked puzzled, as if he could not understand the question.
"Isn't it obvious? You lot were always destined to be spent as disposable fodder for affairs like this."
The northern front.
They had used five thousand of their own men as bait to draw in the thirty thousand Kar tribesmen facing them. In the end they had trapped both armies inside the canyon and set it ablaze, annihilating all thirty thousand of the Kar.
If they pushed across the canyon now, they might finally end the decades-long war in the north.
And yet……
"Don't tell me…… you never intended to end the war at all?"
Arteon asked.
Nothing else made sense. There was no other reason to stab their own men in the back.
Blood kept welling around the spear that had punched clean through his belly; his vision was already beginning to blur.
Looking down at the dying Arteon, Moldrek smiled a thin, ugly smile.
"Still, Arteon, I am grateful to you. Thanks to you I made it to the capital and climbed this high."
The smile twisted further as he continued.
"Don't feel too wronged. All five thousand of you were nothing but common trash that could be thrown away whenever it suited us. You've already lived longer than you deserved, clinging to whatever pathetic hope you could find."
"What did you just……?"
"Besides, you were far too competent. I never imagined for a second that you would actually win this fight."
Moldrek lifted his gaze to the burning canyon — the place where thirty thousand Kar and five thousand of their own now lay dead together.
"The war in the north must go on forever. That is how the Empire preserves its order."
"Haha…… heh-heh-heh-heh-heh."
Arteon dropped his head and began to laugh, a broken, rattling sound. At last the tangled pieces in his mind snapped into place.
This vast northern battlefield……
was nothing more than a tool for someone else's power.
That was why they had been killed here. Everything that happened in this place would simply be erased. Only the tens of thousands of corpses would remain.
They're all in on it, aren't they.
This bastard, and every bastard standing behind him.
Common-born soldiers like us were never even people to them — just garbage. Ten years of enduring hell under his orders had been utterly meaningless.
To them,
we were nothing but pieces on a chessboard.
Commoners who were never treated as human beings. The last ten years of his life felt so bitterly unfair that he wanted to laugh at his own stupidity.
What the hell had he been living for?
At fifteen he had been dragged to this northern battlefield for the crime of stealing five loaves of bread out of hunger. For ten years he had wiped that damned noble's ass and piled up achievement after achievement.
And this is how it ends.
If he had known, he would have at least thrashed and fought. He would have just……
charged straight at them.
If he was going to die like this anyway.
Nothing remained of his life but crushing regret.
If…… just if…… he could turn back time……
I would tear this whole rotten place apart……
Thud.
Arteon's hand finally slipped from the ground. His head sank forward, and the light in his eyes went out completely.
The Caldrian Empire, northern front.
Arteon of the Third Corps died there.
"……Hah!"
His body jerked upright in a cold sweat. The breath that had been locked in his chest burst free all at once, and his heart hammered wildly against his ribs.
"Where……?"
Arteon frowned without meaning to at the sight before him.
It was the old barracks he had never wanted to remember again. Holes riddled the walls so that the night chill poured in and left them shivering; supplies never arrived properly, so they had starved and frozen in equal measure.
Damn it. Even after dying I end up in a shit-hole like this?
For a moment he wondered if this was hell.
Then—
Crack!
Pain exploded across the back of his skull and light flashed behind his eyes. Arteon's head snapped forward; pure instinct spun him around to look behind him.
"Which bastard just— huh?"
Thick eyebrows. Narrow, slanted eyes. The moment he saw the thin, wiry man, Arteon knew exactly who he was.
Baker. His squad leader from his rookie days.
The strange part was how much younger the man's face looked than the one Arteon remembered.
"……Squad Leader Baker?"
"You rotten little shit, sleeping on duty? And 'Squad Leadeeer'? You filthy bastard! Am I your fucking friend?!"
Baker immediately drove a kick into Arteon's chest. A combat boot carried real weight; the blow alone was a serious attack.
But……
Thup.
Before Baker's leg could fully extend, Arteon casually slapped the side of the foot and turned it aside.
"Huh?"
Baker lost his balance, eyes wide with shock, and toppled straight to the floor.
"S-Squad Leader!"
"Squad Leader Baker!"
The squad members who had been watching rushed over in a panic.
"Y-you little shit……?"
They hauled Baker back to his feet. His face had gone crimson as he glared at Arteon, fists trembling as if they might fly at any second.
Then—
"What the hell is going on in here?!"
A voice like a thunderclap rolled in from the barracks entrance. Every soldier inside turned.
It was Platoon Leader Palice.
Skin as pale as northern snow, hair the color of gold. A noble by birth, yet a superior who had never once treated his men differently because of rank.
His temper wasn't the gentlest, but looking back now…… he was a pretty decent commander.
Far better than the ones who never shut up about bloodlines and high and low birth.
The moment Palice appeared, every soldier snapped to rigid attention. Baker scrambled to salute.
"Hearts of steel! Third Squad, all present and accounted for!"
"Did you not hear the assembly order? I told you to form up immediately for the new operation. Seems you all have time to spare."
"No, sir!"
At the soldiers' tense shout, Palice said,
"You have five minutes. Entire platoon, assemble at the training ground."
His gaze slid to Baker.
"Baker."
"S-Sergeant Baker!"
"I distinctly ordered you not to lay hands on your subordinates without cause."
"I-I'll correct it at once!"
"I'll be watching."
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"
Even that foul-tempered Baker answered while cold sweat ran down his face.
The moment Palice stepped back outside,
"……Fuck. This is bullshit."
Baker spat the curse thickly, glared at Arteon one last time, and clicked his tongue. He looked ready to beat Arteon to death on the spot, but—
"You all heard the platoon leader! Finish prep and get to the training ground in five minutes! One second late and I'll thrash you with a stick myself!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Understood!"
The soldiers answered loudly and scrambled out toward the training ground.
Whoooosh—
The northern wind sliced across Arteon's cheeks like a blade. He had jammed his cap down and pulled the hood over the sides of his head and neck, yet the knife-edged cold still found every gap. His thick cloth uniform was already half-shredded and hanging in tatters; the freezing wind knifed straight through the holes.
But the cold was nothing compared to the chaos inside Arteon's head.
Did I really come back to the past……?
Was something like that even possible?
He looked around. Then he saw the faces of comrades who had died long ago on the battlefield, and he could not hide his shock.
Most of the men here had fallen in the battle of Valdrion Canyon. Hundreds of soldiers had died just to seize a scrap of land that barely mattered.
The instant the memory of Valdrion Canyon surfaced—
"Ah……"
Arteon's pupils shook hard.
How had he not realized it sooner?
Coming back here meant……
"Company Commander approaching!"
Someone shouted. Every soldier snapped to attention, faces tight with tension.
Arteon's head turned. The man walking toward them was—
Moldrek Degrain.
Without question, the man who had been their company commander at this time.
In a flash the very first conversation they had ever shared cut through Arteon's mind.
—Who is this one? He's got quick feet.
—Will you end this war with me and climb higher at my side?
—Serve me with everything you have. I'll take you somewhere you could never reach in a lifetime on your own.
All that sweet nonsense the man had spat.
And now Arteon knew.
Every word had been a lie. And……
He always saw us as replaceable parts he could swap out whenever he pleased.
Arteon's fists clenched until the knuckles went white.
The moment he laid eyes on the man, blood seemed to surge backward through his veins.
In the end……
That bastard had climbed higher and higher on the corpses of his own soldiers.
In the very last battle where Arteon had died—
—"Still, I should thank you. Thanks to the lot of you I finally have a shot at the capital. Heh-heh-heh-heh."
He had crushed them underfoot and reached for the center of power.
A bloody road, pure and simple. He had walked alone toward success on a carpet woven from the blood of thousands of soldiers.
Arteon's eyes flashed sharp as a drawn blade.
Every single thing that had happened came flooding back in vivid detail — all the way to the battle of Valdrion Canyon ten years ago, when eighty percent of the company had been wiped out.
That fucking bastard……
It had taken a long, long time before Arteon learned that Moldrek had been colluding with the Kar tribe across the northern front and deliberately throwing his own men into death traps.
The drunk bastard had admitted it himself.
……God.
He had never particularly believed in any god. But in this moment—
Thank you. Truly.
Arteon's gaze locked onto Moldrek like a spear point.
Moldrek stepped in front of the assembled soldiers and raised his voice.
"With this advance we will cross Valdrion Canyon and push north! Glory awaits us on that northern soil!"
The soldiers' spirits soared under the heat of his speech. Of course they did. The man was a gifted orator. Arteon himself had once fallen for that honeyed poison.
Moldrek thrust a hand toward the direction of Valdrion Canyon and roared,
"Go and seize it! Take everything! Whatever it is, it will all be yours!"
"Uwaaaaaaaaah!"
"Long live the Company Commander!"
"Uwaaaaaaaaah!"
The soldiers bellowed, whipping their own morale higher. Moldrek strode among them with a triumphant look, stoking their fire.
But Arteon heard none of those cheers. The noise only dwindled, while Moldrek walking straight toward him grew clearer and clearer.
Ten paces left.
Nine…… eight…… seven……
Arteon steadied his breathing as Moldrek closed the distance one step at a time.
When only three paces remained—
Thump.
Arteon casually set a hand against the waist of the soldier on his right and shoved him toward Moldrek.
"Wha—!"
The shoved soldier staggered and lurched a full step into Moldrek's path. Moldrek flinched and stepped back just short of a collision, his brow twisting with irritation.
"You crazy—!"
"S-sorry, sir!"
Yes. That was the man's true face. Not the polished speech, but that look of pure contempt looking down on them.
The instant Moldrek turned his furious glare on the soldier who had bumped him—
Whick!
"……?"
Arteon drew the short dagger at his hip and took one long stride with his left foot.
Just one step.
That single step closed the gap completely.
"What the hell is this one—!"
"Who is that?!"
"Stop him!"
Moldrek and the aides at his side reacted in alarm and lunged toward Arteon.
But……
Too late.
Shunk!
"……!"
"M-Moldrek, sir!"
Arteon's dagger punched straight through the soft space between Moldrek's jaw and throat.
Even as the blade sank home, Moldrek's face still wore a look of pure incomprehension. He tried desperately to speak—
"Grrrk—"
Only the wet gurgle of blood came out.
Thud.
He crumpled sideways without strength and died.
Moldrek Degrain.
Company Commander of the Third Corps on the northern front.
And……
the enemy of me and every comrade I ever had.
The debt was paid.
"Seize that bastard!"
Someone shouted. Aides wrenched Arteon's arms behind him and forced him to his knees. Even as the soldiers piled onto him and bound him tight, Arteon looked at Moldrek's corpse and smiled with everything he had.