The Spoils of Victory
It was dawn, and a pale, milky sunlight had begun to seep across the tops of the barracks.
Only a few weeks earlier this place had been nothing but the roar of battle and the stench of blood. Now the air itself felt different.
"Haaah… Weather like this is pure gold."
"Man… These past few days have felt like a dream."
Unlike the lean, starving weeks of supply shortages, the stores that had arrived with the First Prince meant real meals at last. Full stomachs loosened the tightness that had clenched the whole camp; a familiar, restless vitality stirred through the ranks again.
That buoyant mood did not last long.
"All hands, rise! On your feet!"
"Every soldier in full uniform and formed up! Move!"
The officers' bellows rolled through the camp, and the men answered as if they had been waiting for the order. They scrambled into ranks with practiced speed. This was no call to battle; weapons and armor stayed behind. The faces that assembled carried none of the usual hard edge—only a hurried, almost leisurely focus.
A long horn blast cut through the air the moment the lines locked into place, its note rolling from one end of the camp to the other.
And into that silence walked a man.
Steady footsteps. A blond figure in neat, unadorned dress.
First Prince Sedrian Aurelian.
He wore no ornate cloak, no glittering ornaments, yet the very air around him seemed to change with his presence. The moment he appeared, the soldiers' excitement drained away. Men who had been laughing only minutes earlier squared their shoulders and straightened their spines. Victory on the battlefield had finally arrived in solemn form.
Sedrian parted the ranks and climbed the raised platform. The clerk standing beside him raised his voice so that every man could hear.
"We now begin the ceremony of merits for the victorious northern campaign of Belikezel!"
Deep drumbeats answered him—boom, boom, boom—and every pair of eyes sharpened.
In the hush that followed, the clerk continued.
"First and foremost, this victory was made possible by every soldier standing here today… and by the sacrifice of those who did not return."
Many heads bowed. They had tried to push the memories aside, yet the faces of the fallen still rose clear and sharp behind their eyes.
Only for a moment.
Then the name of the ceremony's first honoree rang out across the field.
"First—Commander of the First Battalion, Major Luokal! Step forward onto the platform."
Luokal's name had already been spoken often throughout the war; his command had been exceptional from beginning to end. As he walked forward, the soldiers under his banner erupted in cheers.
Once he stood upon the platform, the clerk intoned:
"Major Luokal, as intermediate commander in the battles of Belikezel, directed his men with distinction, never sparing himself in the most dangerous places, and set an example worthy of every soldier's respect. For this he is awarded fifty gold, the territory of Formarion in the western empire, and a special promotion of one rank—from Major to Lieutenant Colonel."
"Waaaaaaaaaah!"
"Long live Major Luokal!"
"A whole territory—his merit this time really was something else."
"Hey, it's Lieutenant Colonel now!"
Genuine, full-throated cheers poured from the ranks. Luokal, face tight with emotion, faced the First Prince and saluted.
"Hearts of steel! I will give my all on every battlefield to come."
"The empire knows your labors. We look forward to your continued service."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Luokal stepped down with that fierce reply, and the clerk called the next name.
"Next—Captain Tairen!"
Boom, boom, boom—the drums rolled again. Tairen swallowed hard and climbed the steps. Confidence had always been the tallest thing about him, yet his hands wanted to shake now.
"…Hoo."
He let out a quiet breath as he reached the platform. Sedrian watched the tension in him and spoke.
"Would you turn and look behind you?"
"…Pardon?"
At the prince's words Tairen turned. The roar that met him was thunderous.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Respect and envy blazed in every pair of eyes fixed on him. Something vast and solid seemed to settle into Tairen's chest of its own accord.
Sedrian's voice was calm.
"Face forward. Square your shoulders."
"…Yes, Your Highness."
Tairen straightened. The clerk allowed himself a faint smile and continued.
"Captain Tairen skillfully repelled the enemy's surprise assault during the fortification of our positions and, in the final battle, charged into the enemy lines, tipping the balance of the field. For this he is awarded one hundred gold, one imperial treasure, and a special promotion of one rank—from Captain to Major."
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
"Captain Tairen—you were magnificent!"
Tairen managed an awkward look that somehow never lost its dignity, then saluted Sedrian.
"The empire will always be watching over you."
Tairen answered by pressing his right fist lightly to the left side of his chest.
The heat of the ceremony kept climbing.
Then—
"Captain Isaac. Forward."
The moment Isaac's name was called, every gaze swung toward where he stood. Everyone knew how much he had done in this war.
He mounted the platform. The clerk regarded him and spoke.
"Captain Isaac has accumulated truly outstanding merit in this campaign. He distinguished himself in early reconnaissance of the enemy, and above all, in the final battle, he dealt a decisive blow to the enemy's supreme commander, Krelmuk."
Soft gasps rippled through the ranks. They knew the war had ended in victory because of that blow.
The clerk's voice grew solemn.
"For this he is awarded one hundred gold, two imperial treasures, a special promotion of two ranks—from Captain to Lieutenant Colonel—and is hereby granted authority to establish an independent force of one thousand men!"
The air over the field seemed to shudder. Not cheers, not gasps—something closer to held breath.
The reason was plain.
"An independent… force?"
A thousand men. Not enough to threaten the state, yet more than enough, by the standards of a provincial territory, to wield real power. A force that answered to no one but Isaac himself—his own army in all but name.
"What are you waiting for, Captain?"
Sedrian's mild question jolted Isaac out of his shock. He snapped into a salute.
"H-Hearts of steel!"
"Hearts of steel. We look forward to your continued service. See that this great power is used where it belongs."
"Yes, Your Highness! Understood!"
Sedrian gave Isaac's shoulder a light clap.
Two names remained.
Everyone already knew the truth: without this man, there would have been no victory at all.
The name of the soldier who had fought in the most dangerous places and left the greatest mark of all rang out across the camp.
"Commander of the independent unit Silent Spear! Lieutenant Arteon—forward!"
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Three heavy drumbeats, and the camp exploded.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
"It's Arteon!"
"Louder! Waaaaaaaaaah!"
The roar was so vast it felt as if the entire camp might lift from the earth. Skin prickled under the sheer force of it. At the center of that storm, Arteon squared his shoulders and walked toward the platform.
Step. Step. Step. Step.
Time itself seemed to slow. He felt every gaze upon him as he climbed the steps. Warm sunlight spilled over his head like a quiet blessing.
Sedrian spoke.
"A truly tremendous welcome. Proof enough of the scale of your deeds."
"You flatter me, Your Highness."
Arteon's calm reply drew a faint smile from Sedrian, who glanced toward the clerk. The clerk raised his voice.
"Commander of Silent Spear, Lieutenant Arteon, faithfully carried out reconnaissance of the enemy camp before the main battle began, and even under unexpected enemy assault struck down an enemy commander. Whenever our forces stood in peril he charged into the enemy lines and restored the balance of the field, and in the end he inflicted a grievous wound upon the enemy's supreme commander, bringing this war to victory."
There were far more deeds than could be listed, and the clerk did not try. He simply raised his voice once more.
"In recognition of these merits, Lieutenant Arteon is hereby promoted two ranks—to Major—awarded five hundred gold and three imperial treasures. Effective immediately, his status is elevated to that of honorary knight, and he is granted the territory of Arbanot in the southwestern provinces."
"…!"
Elevation to honorary knight meant entry into the ranks of the quasi-nobility. Arteon stared as if he could not quite believe it. Sedrian only nodded in silence.
Arteon drew a careful breath.
"There is something I very much wish to say in this place. May I speak a few words?"
He looked to Sedrian. The prince inclined his head.
"As you wish."
Permission given, Arteon turned to face the soldiers.
Some fifteen thousand surviving comrades looked back at him.
He spoke the words he had carried in his chest.
"Victory in this war does not belong to the few who have climbed this platform and received rewards."
The quiet statement pressed a solemn weight across every shoulder.
"It was possible only because of the soldiers who shared hardship and fought beside us—because of the comrades who never flinched from the enemy's fiercest assaults, but met them head-on."
He thought of the Silent Spear troopers who had risked their lives to save him in the worst moments. Without them he would not be standing here at all.
He remembered the faces of those who had gone ahead.
"I dedicate this glory to the comrades who fought with us… and to those who left the field before us."
Arteon closed his eyes and bowed his head a fraction. Across the field, fifteen thousand soldiers closed their eyes with him in silent tribute to the dead.
A brief silence. Yet that short stillness held enormous meaning. It gave every man a chance to remember the fallen once more—and to feel that he himself still lived, and to know what must come next.
"Enough."
Arteon's quiet word, laced with mana, carried through the entire camp. Every head lifted. The eyes that met his now were solemn and clear.
He turned back to Sedrian.
"Thank you for your consideration."
"It was a good moment for me as well."
Sedrian answered with a small smile. Arteon clenched his right fist and struck it hard against the left side of his chest.
Thud.
"Hearts of steel! Until my last breath, I will give my loyalty to the empire!"
"We look forward to your continued service, Major Arteon."
No longer lieutenant—Major.
Sedrian extended his hand. Arteon gripped it firmly.
The ceremony closed with the final awards to Supreme Commander Velkain. After so much hardship, the rewards could not help but be precious. What would be made of them now was another matter entirely…
"Are you leaving now?"
At the voice that rose behind him, Arteon slowly turned his head.