Hearts of Steel
Lukael Hargeil.
In the years to come he would ascend to the 7-star realm and become one of the most influential generals of the North.
Arteon had never seen the man in person, yet he knew better than anyone the feats Lukael had carved out along the northern front.
In my past life… it was he who retook Helikel Canyon and opened the road northward.
By rights it was still far too early for Lukael to leave so deep a mark on the North…
Arteon sank into thought.
His own presence had already twisted the past in countless ways, and because of that…
A current different from the future I once knew is beginning to take shape.
It had become a vital lesson: he could anticipate what was coming to a degree, but he must never place blind faith in those memories.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing of importance, sir.”
“Have you decided, then? If you don’t want it, you can simply remain here.”
Arteon shook his head at Velkain’s words.
“No, sir. This is the path I choose. I will transfer to the place the Corps Commander has recommended.”
“……It could be dangerous.”
“I accept that.”
Yes. This was the time to accept danger.
Only by throwing himself into fiercer battles could he hope to rein in the aura that now raged like a wildfire inside him. Ordinary training would only slow his progress. Knowing that, Arteon kept casting himself into the flames. Every time he survived, the heat only made him burn hotter.
Besides…
If the commander of that unit was Lukael, everything changed. Among all the warriors Arteon knew, Lukael’s control of aura stood near the very peak. Fighting at his side might teach him something invaluable.
Arteon steeled his resolve.
Velkain nodded.
“Good. I’ll have the transfer orders issued shortly. Until then, rest here and stand by.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Corps Commander!”
Arteon rose and snapped a crisp salute. Velkain stood as well. His business here was finished; he had stayed only long enough for this final conversation.
“Remember what I told you today. The greater your renown grows in the North, the more eyes will turn toward you—and not all of them friendly.”
“……Understood, sir.”
“Then good fortune to you.”
With that, Velkain strode out of the tent. Officers tried to stop him—he had barely rested—but he left them with a single dry remark.
“As if I have the luxury of rest.”
He turned and rode out with the soldiers who had accompanied him.
After Velkain’s departure, Hadel—now temporary commander until a permanent replacement arrived—rallied officers and men alike.
“We still have much to do here. Rest for today. Tomorrow we push north at once and begin constructing new fortifications.”
The camp settled into efficient order. Arteon, already thinking of the transfer ahead, walked toward his platoon’s quarters.
“Captain, have you heard?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m packing again.”
A man with light-brown-tinged blond hair answered without looking up as a subordinate stepped into the tent. The younger soldier’s face fell with open regret.
“I was just starting to feel I could properly support the company commander… and now you’re being transferred.”
“What, feeling sentimental?”
The blond man glanced over. Seeing the unhidden disappointment, he flashed a crooked grin.
“In the North it’s best to stick to the safest, most comfortable battlefields you can find. Keep getting dragged around like me and you’ll end up dying in some ditch far from home.”
“Dying in a ditch? You’re being selected because of your skill. From what I hear… the place you’re headed is extremely dangerous.”
Worry creased the subordinate’s brow. The blond man let out a quiet sigh, yet no real concern touched his expression.
“This body of mine will just burn itself out along the way. Nothing to fuss over.”
His words were easy, but his eyes held both the chill and the heat of a cold flame. He knew exactly how critical the coming battlefield would be.
Still…
……The recapture of Elbarphiel Lake.
A situation he had never imagined. For more than a decade the complete retaking of Elbarphiel Lake had been impossible. Yet the news of its fall had arrived together with a certain name, and he found himself smiling without meaning to.
Arteon… so that bastard’s gone and caused another massive incident.
He hadn’t recognized the boy’s worth at first glance. Only after fighting side by side had he come to acknowledge him. The more he thought about it, the more absurdly talented the kid was. Isaac himself had never lagged behind anyone in pure ability—until he met that monster and his entire perspective shifted.
It would be good to fight together again this time.
But that wouldn’t happen.
With Helikel Canyon and now Elbarphiel Lake reclaimed, a road into the North had opened. They had to punch through the western approach to the lake if they wanted a continuous advance corridor linking the central Northwest to the central Northeast. Succeed, and history would change.
The first large-scale northern offensive in the Empire’s history will begin.
This battle would rewrite everything. The Kar Tribe would fight with everything they had to hold their last stronghold. Warriors bearing five—or even six—feather tattoos, men who had almost never shown themselves, might appear.
Worry flickered, but he did not dwell on it. He simply did what needed doing.
“Serve the next superior well after I’m gone. If he’s a bastard, just ram him head-on.”
“That would get me executed on the spot. I want to see you again someday, so I’ll refrain.”
Isaac grinned at the reply.
Then—
Clack!
The subordinate snapped his heels together and straightened to rigid attention. A complex mix of emotions burned in his serious eyes. Isaac set down his pack and matched the posture.
“Hearts of Steel! You’ve worked hard all this time, Captain!”
Isaac closed his right fist and lightly struck his left breast in return.
“Hearts of Steel. If we both survive, we’ll meet again.”
Something tightened in the subordinate’s chest. Of all the superiors he had served, this man had been the most capable, the most outstanding—and the most upright.
“It was an honor to serve under you… Captain Isaac.”
Isaac gave the younger man’s shoulder a couple of firm pats, then swung into the saddle of the waiting horse and rode out.
Rustle.
In the early hours before dawn, Arteon opened his eyes and set the letter he had written through the night on the bed. It detailed the training the platoon would need from now on, along with the specific weaknesses each man still had to correct.
“……Haa.”
Now that the moment of departure had truly arrived, his heart felt strangely tangled.
He rose, picked up the pack he had prepared earlier—spare uniforms and the Velodian Flower Leorn had given him nestled inside—and stepped out into the lingering dark.
He made his way to Hadel’s tent. The temporary commander was already waiting outside.
“Leaving already?”
“Forgive the early hour. Once the men wake, delays will pile up…”
Hadel gave a short, amused snort. For a soldier who had achieved the impossible, Arteon was remarkably careful and considerate.
“You could still stay a few more days. Why the rush?”
“There is something I must do before I reach that place.”
Hadel studied him for a long moment. Their time together had not been long, yet meeting this particular soldier felt like genuine good fortune. He drew a document from his coat and held it out.
“This authorizes you free movement through every formation near Elbarphiel Lake. You’ll be able to request support whenever you need it.”
“It was an unreasonable request… thank you for granting it.”
Days earlier Arteon had asked Hadel for a free-passage permit around the lake. The area was still contested and strategically vital, so paperwork was mandatory. Hadel had agreed without hesitation.
As Arteon accepted the document, Hadel extended his hand.
“It was a pleasure meeting you. Wherever you’re headed… try not to get yourself killed, and come back in one piece.”
Not a salute—a handshake. Arteon hesitated only a second before taking it.
“The honor was mine, sir.”
He mounted the northern horse waiting for him. Just as he prepared to leave the fortifications—
“Leaving without a word, sir?”
“That’s really too much, Platoon Leader.”
The men of the 3rd Platoon were already gathered outside, each tossing a complaint his way. Arteon looked mildly flustered.
“Your sleeping act was flawless. You almost had me.”
They regarded him with open regret. Arteon could only scratch the back of his head in silence. He had already said his goodbyes precisely to avoid this.
“I left a letter in the tent. Read it carefully.”
“Letter? That’s a training schedule.”
Barter’s voice was thick with complaint. He had already seen the contents: detailed training plans for the 3rd Platoon, each man’s strengths and flaws, and the exact points that still needed work. Right up to the end, it was pure Arteon.
Then—
Thump.
“That’s disrespectful to the Platoon Leader.”
Grein lightly struck Barter’s chest, then turned to Arteon. There was much he wanted to say, but only one thing truly needed saying.
“It was an honor to serve with you, Platoon Leader.”
“I was glad to serve with you as well.”
A small smile touched Grein’s lips.
“If… someday you form an independent unit… please call for us. By then we’ll be far stronger than we are now.”
“Me too!”
“And me!”
Arteon laughed at the chorus of voices. Perhaps these men really could endure every brutal regimen he had demanded of them.
He nodded.
“Grow strong enough to die for it. Then… I’ll come get you.”
Smiles spread across every face.
In that instant—
“Platoon, attention!”
Clack! Clack! Clack!
At Grein’s shout the men snapped into perfect formation.
“Salute to the Platoon Leader!”
“Hearts of Steel!”
The thunderous cry rolled through the pre-dawn dark. Arteon dismounted and stood before them.
Then—
Thump.
“Hearts of Steel.”
He returned the salute and spoke his final words.
“See you again.”
With that he remounted and rode north.
Someday… I think we will meet again.
Velkain’s offer of an independent unit. Perhaps these men would become its first members.
A faint smile lingered as he thought of that distant future. Then Arteon turned his mind to the tasks immediately ahead and urged his horse into a faster pace.