Chapter 95 : Chapter 95

Chapter 095 : Moving Forward Together (4)

“Yeats—!”

I shouted toward the pandemonium, charging through the raging chaos with all my might.

“Kill them all!”

“Raaaah!”

“Don’t retreat!”

Shouts erupted from all directions.

My cry pierced through the heart of the chaotic battlefield.

The scene before me was the same.

The blood spurting between clashing soldiers and flashing blades was gradually fading from my vision.

Only one figure began to stand out clearly.

Yeats.

He hurriedly turned to me, tossing aside the collar of a soldier he’d been gripping as if it were a nuisance.

The soldier had just been cut down in a single stroke after charging at him.

I wondered for a moment.

Who did he belong to? Theodore? Belmont? Haspeld?

…A needless luxury.

On the battlefield, lives are weightless.

It doesn’t matter who they are.

They can vanish at any moment.

There’s neither leisure nor reason to examine each one.

Even now, I pass by countless invisible tombstones.

‘But.’

At least for today, at this moment.

I want to engrave a name on each of those tombstones.

Whirl!

I twisted my body in midair, grazing past Yeats.

I definitely felt it.

My blade caught him cleanly.

Slash—!

“Aaaargh!”

I left his scream behind.

As I landed, I kicked the back of his head with my heel.

Thud thud thud.

The moment both feet touched the ground after a long leap, his right arm, which had flown up with the blood, fell at my feet.

For reference, I’d previously cut off his left fingers.

I turned around from my crouched position.

It was time to engrave the word “unknown.”

Swish! Slash! Slash! Slice—!

I sequentially cut his staggering Achilles tendon, calf, and thigh.

I used my sword as a brush to carve.

Thud!

He collapsed helplessly.

Perhaps I put too much emotion into it.

My grip slipped.

I snatched Toxeed as it bounced up and spun in the air.

Stab—!

I drove it into his shoulder.

This would serve as my seal instead.

I didn’t kill him on purpose.

Yeats was unconscious, unmoving.

“Haa.”

I let out a sigh and looked around.

I couldn’t grasp the battle’s state at a glance.

Well, they weren’t my soldiers to begin with, so that’s expected.

Still… Bonnie, fearlessly tearing through the area despite her small frame; Clyde, his usual gentle demeanor gone, transformed into a fierce man wielding his sword; Anderson, relentlessly scolding his archers from the rear; and Viscount Mosfield, unable to charge into the heart of the battle but cutting down every enemy fleeing toward him.

‘They’re all safe.’

My gaze shifted, and I saw them.

Amid the chaos, I spotted the Theodore siblings bickering.

Looking at those two, I was certain.

This is our victory.

* * *

The battle ended before dusk settled.

The most important task remained.

While our soldiers handled the aftermath, I came with key figures to a slightly secluded spot in the forest.

Unfortunately…

There was no one suitable, so I had to carry the unconscious Yeats on my shoulder myself.

Hmm, something feels off.

“Hey.”

Maybe that’s why my voice came out irritably.

I tapped his crown with the tip of my foot.

“Ugh…”

“Stop faking and get up.”

I pushed his shoulder with my foot, and his body slid limply.

His long bangs made it hard to tell if he was still out or awake.

As if my words got through, Clyde reached for his forehead, but a voice snapped out.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Uh, uh? S-Sorry.”

…What’s with this guy, Clyde?

My eyes narrowed, and a snickering laugh rang out.

The sound of boiling blood mixed with it.

Of course, it was Yeats.

“Well, look at this crowd. Let’s see…”

We stood in a circle, looking down at him.

The weather was cloudy, and the ground was covered in reddish, fine dirt, making it look like a funeral without a coffin.

Of course, that’s what it would soon become.

“What a shock, Lord of Belmont. Someone who should be holed up in Belmont because of Angus. What a twist of fate, huh?”

“…Ahem!”

“Sir Anderson, is this the time to be grinning?”

Anderson, who had been smirking, snapped his head up and glared.

“What? You rootless bastard, how dare you…”

I stopped Anderson.

After confirming he stepped back with a cough, I crouched by Yeats’s head.

“Your main force is stationed in Litania. Numbers, battle plans, supply routes, logistics… Tell me everything you know.”

Suddenly, he fell silent, as if his mouth was sealed.

I got the feeling he was just blinking at me.

Then his lips twitched, and he laughed as if he couldn’t hold it in.

“Bihen Benkou, are you playing with me?”

I knew he’d react like this.

What I really wanted to ask was something else.

I lowered my voice, leaning closer so he could hear clearly.

“Marian. The Imperial sorcerer posing as Zephyros’s adjutant. Where are they now? You’re not going to claim you don’t know, are you?”

“…”

“Spill it. They’ll die by my hand anyway. I’ll find them one way or another.”

“…Then why don’t you find them yourself?”

Thwack!

I slammed my fist into his jaw.

“Next, I’ll break your teeth. Your limbs are a mess, but at least your face should be intact to cross the river to the afterlife. You were a knight in this world, after all.”

“Heh heh, you know, you’re a real pain in the ass.”

Yeats writhed like a bug.

His leg muscles and tendons were severed, so it must’ve been tough, but he struggled to stand.

He managed to prop up his upper body, dragging his limp legs like luggage to sit upright.

I watched his posture quietly and asked casually.

“What are you doing?”

“Bihen Benkou, did you know? My love and honor, all ruined because of you.”

“What nonsense.”

“You ruined everything. If it weren’t for you…!”

His lips trembled.

Unable to contain himself, he bit his lower lip with his upper teeth.

“…It would’ve been fine. Definitely.”

“You’ve lost it.”

Looks like he needs a slap to snap out of it.

I grabbed his bangs.

The moment I saw what kind of eyes he had…

I nearly lost control of my expression.

He was one-eyed.

The same left eye as me in my past life was missing.

“You said you’d find them, right?”

“…What?”

“The one you’re looking for. The woman I love.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

How could I hold this in?

“Tell Kuhn I loved her to the end.”

“Kuhn?”

“It’s pathetic to die without even calling her name because of you.”

Her name was Kuhn.

That’ll have to do.

I stood up slowly.

I knew I couldn’t force his mouth open.

“I heard your last words.”

As I drew my Bastard Sword—

“Wait.”

He raised his hand arrogantly, now struggling to stand.

He flailed, fell, barely balanced, fell again, stood briefly, then fell backward…

“Aaagh! Damn it!”

Unable to contain his frustration, he screamed.

The sound of his ragged breathing and the dirt scraping around echoed for a while.

“Huff, huff, huff…”

He finally stood.

He twisted his lips as if he’d accomplished something grand.

“Even in death…”

Yeats slowly raised his one remaining arm.

“I won’t be beneath you.”

…So he had another last word.

·

·

·

Thwack!

* * *

The Litania Order consisted of three buildings.

The central hall and two annexes flanking it.

The outer walls of the hall and annexes had large, glassless windows, where priests would sit on chairs inside, gazing out for meditation or studying doctrine.

That tranquil space of reflection had transformed into a watchtower guarding against threats now that wartime had begun.

In particular, the Lumen Hall in the western annex, overlooking the Litania Plains and Litania Forest, was now called Watchtower 4, the most critical stronghold.

The Easton Guard manned this Watchtower 4.

“It’s all a blur. I’m sure I counted up to thirty-five. After that, I can’t remember. Phew, anyway, once this is over, I’m applying for the promotion exam. I’ve earned it.”

Janson muttered, folding his fingers.

Leaning crookedly against the wall, he exuded ease.

“You know you’ve changed, Janson?”

“Me? Why? What’s different?”

Bill, sitting across, pursed his lips.

“You’ve gotten cocky.”

“What’s that, you pig?”

“P-Pig?! You’re talking big just because you lost some weight! Not long ago, people called us twins! They couldn’t even tell us apart, and you forgot that?”

Then it happened.

Ayan, sitting beside Bill, lowered his head.

“…Pfft!”

A sudden silence fell.

Cold gazes turned to Ayan one by one.

Realizing the gravity, Ayan straightened up.

“S-Sorry!”

Bill let out a deflating sound, as if exasperated, and slung an arm over Ayan’s shoulder.

“Ayan. What did I just hear? Huh?”

“S-Sorry!”

“No, no. Before that.”

“…”

“Sigh. Fine, whatever. You think I’m a pushover too? Or did becoming Roland’s disciple change you?”

“Absolutely not!”

Janson blew on the tip of the pike propped between his legs and said.

“Laughing while a senior talks? Man, no need to be nice.”

Henry, sitting beside Janson, shook his head.

This time, there was no excuse to defend Ayan.

Instead, he changed the subject.

“Hey, quiet down. Don’t you guys feel something weird lately?”

Janson answered without looking.

“What’s not weird these days?”

“No, listen. We’ve been here almost three months. How many people came with us? Yet the food hasn’t run out.”

Janson and Bill blinked at each other.

Come to think of it, yeah.

They’d never paid attention to this.

Bill grinned.

“Heh heh. Henry, you’ve gotten smarter studying under Roland.”

Henry’s hand twitched.

If Ayan weren’t there, he’d have smacked Bill’s head.

“…Being smart has nothing to do with this. Ugh, something’s fishy.”

“What’s fishy? Food’s there, that’s enough. Right, Janson?”

“…Lucky you. Stuffing your face. You’re probably the only guy in the Order getting fatter.”

Bill stood up, unable to take it.

His thickened belly peeked out from under his tunic.

Seeing it, Janson shook his head in disgust and turned to Henry.

“If you’re so curious, ask Roland.”

“No questions outside of lessons.”

“…Yeah, you’re something else. That guy’s not exactly easygoing.”

Janson patted Henry’s shoulder as if pitying him.

Henry didn’t back down, returning a sympathetic look.

He thought: Better than training alone with Bolero.

“What are you all doing here?”

All four heads snapped around.

It was Joel.

Unfazed by their stares, he spoke.

“Janson. I’m swapping with you for tonight’s patrol. Come to tell you.”

Janson’s eyes widened as he shot up.

“What nonsense! I was on night patrol last night!”

“Take it up with Sir Jayden if you want.”

“What the…”

Janson slumped back down, his legs giving out.

Two nights of patrol in a row was harsh punishment.

His face paled.

“Joel, didn’t you skip night patrol last week too?”

It was Henry.

Joel, who had stopped, turned his head.

“So?”

“The week before that too.”

“…”

He fully turned around.

A strange tension brewed between Joel and Henry.

Joel slightly raised his chin.

“Got free time? Keeping track of my schedule so closely. Studying under Roland must be fun, huh?”

“Not at all. It’s just…”

Henry tapped his temple with his finger.

“It sticks in my head.”

“…Mind your own business.”

“Joel, lighten up. We’re fighting for our lives together. Don’t be so stiff.”

Joel smirked, said nothing, and turned away.

Watching his back, Henry shrugged awkwardly, while Ayan and Bill glanced at each other nervously.

Meanwhile… Janson sat there, still pale as a ghost.

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