The Road to Almers
“Heart of Steel! Sergeant Arteon, reporting to the Division Commander.”
An open plain without a single obstacle in sight. Velkain, who had been gazing out over the land beyond the broad expanse of the First Defensive Line, turned his head.
“Congratulations on your promotion.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Arteon had seen him only a short while ago at the awards ceremony, but meeting him face to face like this carried an entirely different weight. The eyes fixed on Arteon were calm and still, yet they seemed to hold a great many things within them.
Velkain turned back toward the northern lands and spoke.
“I’ve heard enough about your performance. It must have been a dangerous affair… What made you take that kind of decision?”
“I was simply lucky, sir.”
“Luck, is it.”
The terror ordinary soldiers felt when they faced the Kar Tribe head-on was beyond imagining. Their builds might have been comparable, but the killing intent they radiated was of a completely different order from anything a common soldier would endure in a lifetime. And yet this man had not merely held them off—he had broken through Kar warriors and struck at the enemy’s rear?
Even with heaven’s fortune at his back, without the resolve to act, such a thing could never have been done.
Velkain let out a short laugh.
“I can’t tell whether you’re a fool or simply modest. Does that so-called luck of yours also cover killing a mid-rank Kar warrior by yourself?”
“…….”
Arteon had no answer. But that silence only deepened Velkain’s certainty. He let out a soft breath and looked at Arteon again.
An unpredictable soldier. Barely a month ago he had been nothing more than an ordinary private.
From the day Moldrek died… far too many things have changed.
It was enough to make Velkain wonder whether he had ever taken this much interest in a single soldier. Still, there was no need to question a change for the better.
“When do you plan to take your leave?”
“At once, sir.”
“Anywhere in particular?”
“I intend to go to Almers.”
“Almers?”
Almers was a commercial city not far from the Northern Front. Unless one strayed into contested ground, the North itself was rich in resources.
Velkain’s expression turned curious, but he only said,
“Permission granted. Leave tomorrow.”
“Thank you for your consideration, sir.”
With the Division Commander’s leave, no other officer’s approval would be needed. Velkain regarded Arteon in silence.
Even before he came to the First Defensive Line, I thought he was different from the ordinary soldiers…
He’s grown stronger still.
What had happened to him in that short time? Was it even possible for a common soldier to advance so quickly? And the faint energy clinging to his body—there was no mistaking it. Mana.
An ordinary soldier who used mana.
Well. That would explain how he brought down a mid-rank Kar warrior.
A soldier carrying far too many secrets. But that did not mean Velkain could pry. All he could do was watch.
“That’s all for now. I look forward to what you do next.”
“Heart of Steel! I will give everything I have.”
“Dismissed.”
With those words Arteon left the tent. Not long after he was gone—
“A truly interesting soldier.”
Ervan, chief strategist of the First Division, gazed in the direction Arteon had taken.
Velkain spoke.
“Ervan. How is the matter I entrusted to you last time?”
“There has been no significant progress as yet.”
Ervan’s expression settled into seriousness. The task Velkain had ordered him to investigate carried considerable risk, in its own way.
Velkain nodded.
“This affair will set certain parties in the capital moving. If you look through them, you should be able to get closer.”
“But… would a single victory on the First Defensive Line be enough to provoke any real movement?”
“It was hardly a single ordinary victory.”
It had been a triumph great enough to force the Kar Tribe facing the First Defensive Line to pull back their formation. And at this precise moment…
“If we move once more, they will not simply sit and watch.”
“Move once more, sir?”
“Ervan.”
“…Yes, Division Commander.”
When Ervan answered with full gravity, Velkain rose from his seat and turned his gaze outward. After a long moment of thought, he fixed his eyes on a single point and spoke.
“I intend to advance into the North.”
“……!”
It was something no one had ever attempted. A notion that had lived only in thought—until now. The time had come to decide.
“Once we move, they will have more than enough pretext to act.”
“…I don’t believe there will be any shortage of that.”
“Then proceed on that understanding.”
“I will make every preparation.”
Velkain nodded at Ervan’s words and looked out past the First Defensive Line, toward the north.
“You’re going to Almers?”
“Yes, sir.”
Velkain’s permission had already been granted, but a report was still required. At Arteon’s words, Peerland soon smiled.
“Of the cities in the North, Almers is the largest. You’ll have no trouble enjoying your leave there. Do you have enough money?”
“I have the reward money from the commendation.”
“A hundred gold. That’s a considerable sum. Don’t spend it all—keep some in reserve.”
“Understood, sir.”
Considering that a commoner’s family of four spent roughly three gold a month on living costs, a hundred gold was an enormous amount. The majority of the men here would never touch a hundred gold in their entire lives.
“Here’s your leave pass. Show it if a checkpoint asks. I suppose this is the last I’ll see of you for a while.”
The 4th Platoon, which had been deployed in support, would return at once to its original unit, the 3rd Company. Arteon would be returning there as well.
Arteon spoke.
“I’ve learned a great deal thanks to you, sir. Thank you.”
“Haha. If anything, I was the one who received the greater help from you. I wish you fortune in everything ahead.”
With much still to settle, Peerland soon turned back to his papers in haste. Unless Arteon volunteered for the First Defensive Line again, they were unlikely to meet.
Footsteps. Leaving the tent, Arteon made his way back to where his squad was waiting.
“Congratulations on your leave, Sergeant.”
“You’re really gone for a whole month?”
“When you come back… bring us something good to eat, yeah?”
The squad members, already preparing to leave the First Defensive Line, made no effort to hide the envy in their eyes. But then—
“Sergeant Arteon.”
“Heart of Steel!”
Arteon saluted as Hendris approached the 4th Squad’s tent.
“Might I have a word?”
“Of course, sir.”
Arteon fell into step beside him. Hendris led him to a place where no one else was near, then held out a small pouch.
“The platoon scraped this together among themselves. Use it well on your leave.”
“I have enough money already, sir. I’ll take the thought alone.”
“Everyone received reward pay for this campaign, so it was no real burden. In a way, we have you to thank for that reward as well.”
Because of Arteon, the men of the 4th Platoon—a disciplinary unit—had received a two-year reduction in their service. That alone had been worth a fortune of gold to them.
Arteon looked at the pouch Hendris held out.
“Refusing goodwill is hardly good manners either. If you put it to good use, everyone will be pleased.”
“…Thank you, sir.”
“When do you leave?”
“The Division Commander ordered me to go first thing tomorrow.”
“Then rest well today… and have a safe journey. We’ll see each other when you return. Consider this your formal report—depart at first light.”
It felt different from his previous life. Back then it had been like living among thorns. Now there were so many people who looked out for him, who thought of him.
Arteon clenched his right fist and set it against his left breast.
“Heart of Steel. Thank you.”
“Heart of Steel.”
After exchanging the salute with Hendris, Arteon turned at once and walked away.
And the next day.
“Well then… time to move.”
Going to Almers had originally been planned for later. But things on the First Defensive Line had gone better than expected, and he had been able to advance the schedule.
Still…
I wonder if those bastards still control Almers even now.
In the ten years he had spent in the North, he had traveled a fair number of the surrounding cities. He believed he knew the North’s cities better than anyone—but that knowledge was of three or four years from now, not of the present.
His thoughts tangled for a moment, then he shook them clean.
“I’ll know when I get there.”
Even if things were a little different from what he remembered, nothing of consequence would change. Settling his mind, Arteon mounted the northern horse the Division Commander had provided. Its body was thicker than an ordinary horse’s, and the coat covering it was soft to the touch.
“Let’s go.”
“Hiiiiiing!”
The northern horse carrying Arteon broke into a swift run. From its back, Arteon sifted through old memories and pictured Almers ahead of him.
“That way! He went that way!”
A narrow alley. Guards in pressed-down helmets shouted and rushed about in a flurry. They seemed to be chasing someone, yet their quarry was nowhere to be seen.
And in the empty alley the guards had just abandoned—
“Idiots. Run that way a hundred times if you want. Like you’d ever catch me.”
A boy tossed a pouch into the air, caught it again, and worked it between his fingers with a sly grin.
“Heh. This’ll more than cover the month. On the way back I’ll buy the little ones some pie.”
The weight of the pouch pleased him so much he kept laughing. But then—
“Shadow Fang?”
“……?!”
At the voice from behind him, the boy flinched and spun around. He had been sure he’d shaken every last guard. And Shadow Fang—that was the name of the thieves’ guild he belonged to.
But when he turned, what he found was—
“…What the fuck.”
—a man of about his own age, standing there.
The boy spoke.
“Who the hell are you? You’re not a guard. You’ve got some nerve, throwing around the name Shadow Fang.”
He drew a dagger with practiced ease, fully prepared to kill depending on the answer. But—
“That’s right. Shadow Fang. Whew… lucky me. Finding you on the first try.”
“…You crazy bastard, what do you think finding us is gonna—ghk!”
The boy never finished the sentence. They had been a good ten meters apart—yet with a single step the man closed the distance and seized him by the throat.
There had been no time to dodge, no time for anything at all. It happened in the space of a blink. The grip crushing his neck was monstrous.
Maybe…
I—I’m going to die…
The world seemed about to go black. But then the man spoke.
“Where is Lisiven?”
“…What?”
The boy’s eyes flew wide.