Arrival at the Fourth Defense Line
Crash!
"Hey, you bastard! Watch where the hell you're going!"
"S-sorry!"
"Bandages! Bring the bandages!"
Chaos reigned in the medical tent. Orderlies dashed about while wounded soldiers groaned and thrashed in agony. The more severely injured had lost limbs; to stave off further infection the medics seared the stumps with red-hot irons, and more than a few men fainted from the pain.
"...Damn it all. Is there nothing here that actually works? When the hell is the supply drop coming?!"
An enraged medic shot to his feet and bellowed. Patching soldiers up with these makeshift measures had gone on far too long. Every day a dozen comrades died, and there was nothing a medic could do about it.
Just then—
"Chief Marenk!"
"Haa... Phileinal. If you're about to deliver some bullshit report, swallow it. I'm this close to rearranging your face."
"I-it's not that. Word just came from the command post—reinforcements and supplies will be arriving soon."
"...What?"
Even the sparse support shipments had dried up more than a month ago. This was the fiercest stretch of the front; ordinary resupply simply could not keep them alive. On top of that, the previous division commander in charge of the sector had been a useless pig who used the northern fighting only to fatten his own power.
And yet—
"Also... the division commander has been relieved of command... and is being hauled off by the Imperial Guard."
"What did you say?"
Marenk's face hardened. In the Northeast, a division commander had been the apex predator. No one could touch him; this place had been his private kingdom.
And now they were stripping him of rank?
"Who?"
"The newly appointed corps commander. You know—Division Commander Velkain, the one who used to run the Northwest."
"He made corps commander?"
"Yes. Word is he earned a big promotion for his achievements out west... and he's taken over as Northern Commander."
The commander of the North had changed. And the moment Velkain took the post, he had begun cutting out the rot, starting with the worst of it.
...He relieved the division commander.
It was an extraordinarily bold move. The man who had overseen the Northeast was a noble, after all. His title might have been low, but touching a noble was never simple—which made the news all the more shocking.
"They said he was a madman... and he really does crazy things like it's nothing."
No one could predict how the North would change from here.
Still, it can't get any worse than this.
If things deteriorated further, it would be the same as abandoning the North entirely.
"Understood. More importantly—are the medicinal herbs ready yet?"
"We've sent men out to forage nearby, but honestly, there's almost nothing left around our lines."
"So in the end... we'll have to push farther up."
Self-sufficiency had its limits. Unless they reached the shores of Elbarphiel Lake—currently held by the Kar Tribe—resupplying themselves here was nearly impossible.
Even so...
"Support's coming soon. Let's just hold out until then."
"Yes, sir!"
At his subordinate's reply, Marenk returned to tending the wounded. Supplies were one thing, but...
The troops coming this time... they'd better be halfway decent.
Unlike the other northern fronts that only held defensive lines, the Fourth Defense Line was locked in a constant struggle over Elbarphiel Lake. The Kar Tribe had held the lake for six months already. Thanks to incompetent leadership, recapture was a distant dream; instead, reckless assaults kept bleeding the ranks dry.
Please... just send someone who can actually fight.
Still, the new corps commander overseeing the entire North had opened with a strikingly drastic move. Thinking of the changes that might come, Marenk simply threw himself back into his work.
Tramp, tramp.
Following the long column, Arteon eventually caught sight of a faint mist drifting ahead.
We're getting close to the Fourth Defense Line.
A thin fog always clung to Elbarphiel Lake.
"We'll be there soon."
The commander of the reinforcing company heading for the Northeast's Fourth Defense Line muttered under his breath. True to his words, they reached the garrison of the Fourth Line not long after.
"...What is this place?"
"It's... pretty damn gloomy."
The newly arrived soldiers frowned at the strange atmosphere hanging over the camp. Most of them had never encountered anything like it. Those who had served on the Northwest's First Defense Line, however, wore calm, familiar expressions.
This place, too...
It's no different from the First Line in the Northwest.
Despair had settled over the fortifications. Soldiers went about their duties with lifeless faces. Not a scrap of hope remained in that damp, oppressive air.
Arteon simply exhaled softly and began adjusting to his new surroundings.
Just then—
"Staff Sergeant Arteon."
"Yes, Company Commander."
"You've been assigned to the First Company here. A guide will be along shortly—follow him to First Company. Your exact posting will be decided there."
"Heart of Steel! Understood, sir."
Arteon saluted the mounted commander. Moments later a soldier approached him.
"Are you Staff Sergeant Arteon?"
"Yes, that's me."
"Sergeant Bolgren. I'm here to escort you."
Green hair cut short, a solid, steady gaze. Arteon nodded. Bolgren turned and started walking; Arteon fell in behind him.
As they crossed the camp, grim scenes appeared here and there. Bolgren spoke up.
"Three days ago we fought to retake Elbarphiel Lake."
"It failed, I take it."
"...Yes. A complete rout. Over two hundred dead. Roughly half our fighting strength wiped out in one disastrous battle."
Arteon nodded. He knew no words of comfort would help.
Still...
...Did Velkain foresee even this?
That was almost certainly why, the moment his inauguration as corps commander ended, he had immediately relieved the Northeast's commander. The front here had been teetering on the edge; he had meant to force a change.
While listening to Bolgren's various accounts of the Fourth Line, they reached the First Company commander's tent.
Bolgren called inside.
"Company Commander, it's Bolgren. I've brought Staff Sergeant Arteon."
"Send him in."
At the voice from within, Bolgren nodded to Arteon. Arteon stepped inside and found a massive man staring at him.
"...So you're Staff Sergeant Arteon?"
"Heart of Steel! Staff Sergeant Arteon, reporting to Company Commander Hadel."
He had learned the name from Bolgren on the way. Arteon snapped a crisp salute, but Hadel only frowned and looked him up and down.
"How old are you?"
"I'll turn sixteen next month."
"...This world's gone mad."
He had already read the letter, but seeing the boy in person left him stunned. Turning sixteen next year meant—
He's fifteen right now...
Was it truly right to hand a platoon to a green brat like this? His thoughts churned. Of course he had heard the stories—a private who rocketed to staff sergeant in a matter of months. Age meant nothing in the army; only ability mattered. That much was beyond dispute.
But there's still such a thing as common sense...
Even so, this was too much.
Hadel rose from his seat. He stood a full two heads taller; Arteon had to tilt his head back. Short blond hair, thick brows, and deep blue eyes set like frozen lakes. His gaze was as cold as ice, and the tightly pressed lips offered no warmth.
Hadel looked down at Arteon, lost in thought.
This kid... is he really the one who contributed most to retaking Helikel Canyon?
After Velkain's promotion to lieutenant general and his appointment as Northern Corps Commander, he had shown decisive, brilliant leadership—enough to strip that incompetent Northeast division commander of his post...
...Damn it.
Orders were still orders. Hadel turned irritably and signed the document on his desk.
"Take this."
Arteon examined the papers Hadel handed him. It was the appointment as commander of Third Platoon, First Company.
"You'll take Third Platoon. The last battle left a lot of vacancies, so your first job is filling the ranks."
His voice remained icy. Or rather, it carried no expectation at all—because he already assumed the boy would fail.
Arteon was unfazed.
"Understood, sir."
At the calm reply and composed expression, Hadel's brow twitched. Did the kid have some hidden card up his sleeve?
He fired the next words like a shot.
"I'll grant you scored some real achievements, but landing here might just mean those feats were inflated."
Of all the northern fronts, the Northeast's Fourth Defense Line was the fiercest and most dangerous. Dumping a decorated soldier into this deathtrap made no sense. So Hadel warned him.
"Act cocky without the skill to back it up and you'll die in the next fight. Keep that in mind."
"Understood, sir."
Of course the words held no threat for Arteon. The Fourth Defense Line of the Northeast might be the most dangerous place in the North right now, but—
...Once we push past the current lines and advance deeper into the North...
True hell would unfold. And to Arteon, who had endured years of that hell and crushed the Kar Tribe, a warning like this was—
Nothing more than encouragement.
Arteon carefully hid a smile and stepped back.
"Heart of Steel! Staff Sergeant Arteon, taking my leave."
He exited the company commander's tent. Outside, Bolgren let out a small sigh.
"I was sweating bullets. The company commander's temper's been foul ever since that crushing defeat."
"It's fine. I just took it as concern."
"And about Third Platoon, where we're headed..."
"...?"
"Never mind. You'll see for yourself soon enough."
Bolgren shook his head. Better to let him see it with his own eyes than waste words.
When they reached Third Platoon's barracks—
"...Ah."
Arteon had to fight to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching upward.