Traces of the Chebilk
"Commander."
"Lord Lukael...!"
As Lukael stepped inside, the soldiers in the tent shot up from their seats.
One of them lay on a cot. Even at a glance, his wounds were grave.
Lukael asked,
"What happened?"
"We were on reconnaissance around the canyon when... we were attacked."
"...Attacked?"
Lukael's eyes wavered.
Who would dare threaten soldiers in a place like this?
His gaze drifted toward the gorge of Aicled.
To strike the enemy, one had to cross that merciless canyon. But the same held true for the enemy. Without coming through that gorge, attacking them should have been impossible...
There was, however, a reason.
"We went a little deeper for the canyon perimeter watch. Honestly... with the blizzards getting so bad lately, we only meant to check how the terrain had shifted..."
"You fools...!"
Lukael's brow furrowed at the soldier's continued report. Overreaching greed had taken them too deep into the gorge, and they had met the enemy.
The soldier bowed his head.
"I'm sorry, Commander."
"...Treat the wounded first."
Lukael turned to Arteon, who had followed him in.
"Introductions to the men will... have to wait. Your post is First Squad Leader. Head to the First Squad tent."
"...Hold on a moment."
Arteon, still looking at the injured man, spoke up. The wounds on the soldier sprawled across the cot were nothing like ordinary cuts.
Not a sword... or an axe. Not any edged weapon.
The leather armor was torn open, and the flesh beneath looked as if it had been ripped away.
When Arteon walked toward the wounded man, the soldiers watching him flinched and stepped back.
Arteon turned to the soldier standing beside the cot.
"Were you with him when the attack happened?"
"Y-yes. But who are—"
"Do you know what the one who attacked you looked like?"
"Huh? Ah, well... it was so sudden I don't really remember, but..."
At Arteon's question the soldier cast his mind back.
He couldn't deny it had been overreaching. Wanting to do a little better, he had pushed farther inward than the assigned zone. Then, through the blizzard, something had come charging at them.
"He was tall..."
"Over two meters, with skin as black as charcoal?"
"...!"
The soldier's eyes flew wide at Arteon's words.
"Th-that's right. Huge, and... I don't remember much else, but his skin was truly black. Black enough that he looked like a lump of charcoal."
The moment had been too urgent and desperate for clear memory, yet those two traits stood out sharply.
Lukael's eyes narrowed as he looked at Arteon.
"You know something?"
"...The Chebilk Tribe."
Chebilk.
An extreme minority within the Kar Tribe, and though they were Kar, even among their own people they received no recognition and were treated like slaves.
Their distinguishing traits: most adults stood over two meters, and the largest among them nearly reached three. And that black skin.
Plus the coal-black hide.
It was a blackness utterly different from ordinary dark skin. Combined with their great height, they possessed the traits of wild beasts—massive frames yet blisteringly fast movement, and claws so sharp and hard they could rival metal even without mana.
In short...
They were so savage it was hard to call them human.
Yet for all their absurd physiques, reflexes, and speed, the Chebilk carried a fatal flaw: the longer they had held that strength, the more sharply it withered once they passed thirty. Their numbers, too, were tiny.
That was why even within the Kar they were dismissed as inhuman and used only as tools.
"The Chebilk...?"
"Yes. A minority tribe among the Kar. Beasts in human shape."
Arteon gave a brief explanation. Going any deeper would only complicate matters further.
Lukael's eyes narrowed.
"I've spent a long time in the North, yet I've never heard of such creatures. Lieutenant Arteon, how do you know this?"
"My late father once took a severe wound from them. He fought in the North as well."
"...I see."
Countless men were dragged to the northern front, only to be maimed or killed. There was no better excuse.
Arteon rose to his feet.
If the Chebilk were here...
This could turn out far harder than I thought.
Beyond sheer strength, they endured the cold far better than ordinary people. Among the Kar, the Chebilk were the ones truly specialized for the North.
Perhaps this battle...
Could become dangerous the moment we enter the gorge.
There was suddenly far too much to confirm. Yet in a blizzard like this, body heat drained far faster than usual. Even scouting would not be easy.
"Everyone stand down and rest for now. We'll move once I see how the weather turns."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes."
"Captain Isaac, show the First Squad Leader to his tent. I appear to have work that needs doing first."
"Understood."
With the situation growing serious, Lukael returned at once to his own tent.
Isaac let out a quiet sigh and looked over the soldiers still inside.
"Let's start with introductions for the men here. This is Lieutenant Arteon, the last to join us. Those of you who've already heard the rumors will know who he is."
At Isaac's words, some of the soldiers nodded.
Whether they already knew of Arteon or not, the thought that rose in most of their minds seemed much the same.
Isaac continued.
"If you try to put the kid in his place just because he looks young, you'll regret it. Honestly, if we're talking pure strength, he's better than me, so try not to get yourselves hurt."
"...What?"
"Stronger than the Deputy Commander?"
Everyone knew Isaac never spoke empty words. And yet that same Isaac had just said...
He's stronger than me...?
He still looks like a kid...
They all knew how skilled Isaac was. Shock was inevitable.
Arteon looked at the stunned soldiers and spoke.
"Lieutenant Arteon. I don't know everyone's ranks, but here we're comrades of the same unit. I look forward to working with you."
"As of this moment Lieutenant Arteon is First Squad Leader. Anyone below squad-leader rank will treat him with proper respect regardless of grade. Now, come with me to the First Squad tent."
"Yes."
Arteon followed Isaac toward the First Squad quarters.
They were new comrades, yet every one of them belonged to the same specially assembled temporary unit.
"Give a quick greeting and then rest. From tomorrow... we'll hold a separate briefing. See you then."
"Yes. Thank you for your work."
With night falling, Isaac made himself scarce. The newcomer would need time with his men.
Once Isaac was gone, Arteon looked over the First Squad soldiers present.
They would have been thrown together temporarily for the special unit, yet...
Not a trace of awkwardness among them.
Men already accustomed to missions like this. Which meant they were skilled.
"Glad to meet you. I'm Lieutenant Arteon. I'll be serving as First Squad Leader for the duration of this mission. I hope we can finish the job without anyone getting hurt... and return safely to our original posts."
"Pleasure to meet you, Squad Leader. I'm Rylen."
"Dorvan. Good to meet you."
"Kailed."
"Brenrik... here."
"Sebastian."
"Kant."
As they introduced themselves in turn, Arteon offered each a light handshake. Just a simple clasp of hands, yet it was enough to gauge their level.
All of them... at least two-star.
Ordinary soldiers at two-star rank. Most of them could hold platoon leader or higher in a regular unit. Gathering men like this only underscored how hard the mission would be.
"From now on I'll speak casually. For the moment, rest until further orders. Once the real operation orders drop..."
Arteon glanced toward the outside of the tent.
"...there won't be many chances left to smile."
Everyone nodded at his words.
And so the first night in Aicled slipped by.
Whoooooosh!
A blade-sharp blizzard swallowed the canyon.
Iryakle, warrior of the Chebilk Tribe, stood at the edge of a snow-buried cliff and looked down. The fierce snow lashed his face without mercy, yet his gaze remained deep and unshaken.
Then a vast shadow pushed through the storm and approached.
A woman well over two meters tall. Like Iryakle she had coal-black skin, and even against the white snowfield her presence stood out, alien and stark.
"One of them is badly hurt. He won't be moving for days. We wait inside until then."
"..."
"Iryakle."
Only when she called him again did he finally nod.
"...Understood."
He answered shortly and pushed into the burrow she had already dug. Simply escaping the blizzard was a great help in holding body heat.
Yet even in the warm dark, relief never came.
"How long do we have to keep living like this..."
The woman murmured low, watching him. Her fingertips, still clutching the hem of his clothes, trembled faintly.
Thud.
In that instant Iryakle caught her hand. His rough, hard grip closed around hers as if swallowing the tremor.
"Don't shake. Everything... will be fine. Didn't they say this mission is the last?"
But she shook her head and bit her lip.
"But... there's no way those bastards will keep their promise."
A brief silence.
Then Iryakle's eyes flashed blood-red.
"When that happens..."
The resolve packed into those few words was utterly clear. Like a flame the blizzard itself could not extinguish, his will was already set firm.
Iryakle drew her into his arms. The hand that had been cold and rigid now stroked her hair.
"Don't worry. It will all... turn out well."
Yet the woman remained in his embrace, her face still painted with anxiety and fear.