Chapter 65

Everything wavers.

Legs, arms, even his values.

Edna’s breathing grew increasingly ragged. It wasn’t from a fierce battle, nor a long march, yet his breath continued to grow more and more labored.

The voice of the soldier, screaming and struggling to escape the giant’s clutches, echoed incessantly within Edna’s mind.

He began to doubt even if what he was doing was right.

A nausea churned in my gut.

“What’s the objective of this mission? That parchment the General’s hiding in the ground, what’s its function?”

Ed asked the question in a low voice.

Curiosity gnawed at me. What could be the purpose of a mission so vital that we’d leave someone, practically a brother, to die for it?

What monumental thing were we doing, that Bell could stride forward with such unwavering resolve?

“It’s a matter of security. I can’t tell you.”

“Security, my ass. You showed us planting the parchment in the ground right in front of our eyes! So it shouldn’t matter if you tell us what kind of magic is inscribed on it.”

Ed’s sharp tone widened the eyes of the other soldiers.

A Private talking back to Bell Artois, of all people.

Was the man a complete moron?

“I said it’s a matter of security. Shut your mouth and patrol the perimeter, Private.”

“There’s a damn good reason, isn’t there? Just tell us, so we can understand. So we can at least find solace in the notion that there’s a grand cause tied to this mission… that made us leave a comrade to die….”

“Leave him to die?”

“Huh?”

“Was there really no choice other than to leave him to die?”

Bell Artois’ voice turned sharp in an instant. From deep within the mage’s heart, a profound loathing, aimed at who-knew-what, began to seethe.

“What… what do you mean?”

“There is *always* a choice, Private. We abandoned a comrade, and we chose the mission. Don’t run from that truth by slapping a pretty little lie like ‘grand cause’ on it.”

The other soldiers, listening to the exchange through the runes etched on their gas masks, swallowed hard.

“……”

Ad wondered, ‘So, even if it meant endangering the others, he should have saved that soldier?’

But, strangely, his mouth wouldn’t quite form the words.

…Was he intimidated by Bell?

‘No.’

He wasn’t intimidated. He couldn’t be.

Bell had merely made a necessary choice to protect the mission, even if it meant risking the comrade at his side.

In that situation, wasn’t the right answer to pretend not to see the soldier being taken, as anyone could see?

It was absurd.

He’d made the choice for everyone.

A necessary choice for the greater good.

‘…For what greater good?’

Ad didn’t even know the precise purpose of this mission. All he knew was that he had to protect the mage before him.

‘Right, Bell Artua is a General. A hero of the continent. And I am a hero protecting a hero…’

A surge.

Something tried to claw its way up from his gut.

He couldn’t vomit with the mask on. Ad forcefully pushed whatever was trying to rise back down.

…Bell, oblivious to Ad’s nausea, quickened his pace.

They diligently, cautiously, threaded through enemy territory.

Since that brief exchange between Bell and Ad, not a single word passed between the soldiers.

They simply kept their mouths shut and focused on the task, so that, as dusk began to swallow their surroundings, they were able to conceal the seventh parchment at the designated location.

“Two more. Stay alert until the end.”

It had been twelve long hours of labor. To move covertly through enemy territory for so long was incredibly taxing on the nerves, and the soldiers were all strung tight, stretched to their breaking points.

One mistake, and everyone here would be in mortal danger. At best, death. At worst, our bodies dissolving, to be used as parts of a variant.

No matter how courageous, maintaining your sanity in a situation like this wasn’t easy, and for Add, who had no experience with such a gruesome battlefield, it was especially difficult.

He’d lived his life as an adventurer. He thought he’d seen pretty much everything, but since being assigned to this mission, the landscape surrounding him spoke volumes: his past experiences were nothing.

The chunks of meat before his eyes – were they someone’s corpse, a variant, a demon? He couldn’t distinguish them. Perhaps they were all mixed together. Gigantic globs of meat were everywhere, as if a colossal monster had swallowed everything in the area at once and vomited it all back up before it could be fully digested.

…But more than the disgusting sights, something else tormented him.

‘There are always choices.’

‘Don’t run from the truth with pretty excuses like the greater good.’

Bell’s words flew like daggers, lodged in Add’s chest, remaining there the entire time.

It felt as if his heart was rotting, his lungs hardening. Add didn’t have the slightest idea how to pull out these daggers.

Foul things kept threatening to rise from his gut, but he couldn’t vomit inside his mask, so he’d been forcing it down since before.

“…Shit, shit.”

The voice of one of the soldiers echoed inside his mask. It was the voice of a corporal with short hair.

It grated.

Hearing that unstable muttering, the breathing, the vocalizations, everything made him feel even more anxious than he already was.

His stomach was already churning because of Bell’s words, but constantly listening to that muttering set his teeth on edge.

Add wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The other soldiers, as well as Bell and Menes, were equally annoyed by the soldier’s voice.

Even so, they didn’t scold him to be quiet. They feared that needlessly provoking him here could lead to an irreversible situation.

Those eyes.

Aed and the soldiers saw the eyes. Those hazy eyes, gazing not at themselves or the present situation, but at something impossibly distant.

It was never good to provoke someone with eyes like that. Everyone present knew this truth.

If this were the barracks, he could be given leave for a while, or excused from duty altogether…

But this was enemy territory. There was no respite, no place to rest.

“…Just one more left. Hold on a little longer.”

Bel and the soldiers pressed on, a shared unease settling over them.

Less than thirty minutes after concealing the seventh parchment, Bel retrieved the eighth from within his robes.

…Aed had ceased to care what function those parchments served.

Even knowing their true nature wouldn’t extract the dagger lodged in his heart.

The parchment fell to the ground, its faint light disappearing as it sank into the mud.

“Damn it… Damn it, Danny… I’m sorry. I know you saved my ass in Belgium. I know, yeah, I haven’t forgotten…”

While Bel concealed the parchment, the short-haired soldier’s murmur grew increasingly distinct. He babbled as if conversing with someone, his hazy eyes fixed on the empty air.

The soldiers, pushed to the brink of their sanity, could only close their eyes and struggle to ignore his ramblings. No one considered comforting the short-haired corporal. Not even Aed.

“That’s it. Move out. I want to finish this as quickly as possible and get back to the barracks, so keep your wits about you…”

*Boom!*

Another massive explosion echoed from the distant front lines. A mana mine detonated, but no one knew who had triggered it. Perhaps one of the Continental Army soldiers, or one of the demonkin mutations.

“I was wrong! I was wrong! Danny, but me too! I saved you once, too. Don’t you remember the battle of Dallin? Just go away, Danny.”

The short-haired soldier, who had been spewing obscenities, trembled with his arms and legs at the sudden explosion and slumped to the ground.

His mouth spewed a string of pathetic excuses.

“Damn it, damn it.”

“……Agh!”

The other soldiers, too, trembled in their legs, sighed, and felt their hearts clench. A sound of explosion that would normally be nothing, why did it feel so immense now? It defied understanding.

Had they been buried in silence for twelve straight hours, carrying out their operation? Whatever the reason, the soldiers were thrown into momentary disarray by the explosion so close by.

“Shut it, please…….”

The explosion fades, and a hot wind brushes past their collars. The corporal with the close-cropped hair’s voice grew smaller and smaller, but it never quite stopped.

“Just one more time and we’re done. Let’s go home alive.”

It was Bel who calmed the soldiers, who seemed unable to collect themselves. Menes was already far ahead of the column, searching for a safe path.

“Corporal.”

“……C, Corporal, Citadel Kraya.”

Bel sighed, as if there was nothing else to be done, and approached the corporal with the short hair.

Citadel barely managed to give his rank and name in a trembling voice, but that was all. His mind was elsewhere.

Bel grabbed Citadel Corporal by the scruff of his shoulder and forcibly pulled him to his feet.

Only then did his eyes, which had been staring blankly into space, turn to face Bel.

“Once this mission is over, I will personally ensure that Corporal Danny, who became a Variant, rests in peace.”

His robes fluttered, revealing a glimpse of his arm, which was covered in scars, all etched in the same direction.

Ad felt a sense of unease at the fleeting glimpse of Bel’s scars.

Anyone standing on the battlefield, be they mage or warrior, was bound to have a scar or two, but the scars that covered his arm were arranged neatly in one direction, as if someone had deliberately carved them.

“……Is that true? Will the General himself end Danny’s suffering?”

“I promise, so just hang in there a little longer.”

“Promise Danny…… Promise Danny directly, to Danny right next to the General now, right this instant.”

“…What?”

“Promise Danny that, right now! General, General. That you’ll make Danny comfortable. Quickly…”

A chilling silence descended among the soldiers.

Lieutenant Menes, having overheard their exchange from afar, barely managed to swallow the sigh that threatened to erupt.

Some of the soldiers thought,

Maybe it would be far better to just kill this madman here and now.

Left unchecked, there was no telling what immense disaster he might cause, dragging everyone here to their deaths…

“Yes. I promise you, Corporal Danny.”

Consumed by unease, the soldiers who had instinctively reached for their weapons froze.

Because Bell had spoken to the empty air, to nothingness.

“…Did you hear that, Danny?”

A frigid wind swept through. The sky was black as pitch and the air thick with the stench of rotting corpses.

Citadel slowly turned his head, his gaze following Bell’s towards the empty space. The surrounding soldiers couldn’t help but turn their eyes to where the two men were looking.

“The General says he’ll end your suffering, so just hold on until the mission is over. That’s good. Yes. That’s good, right?”

Of course, there was nothing there.

“You morons, found the path.”

“Moving out. Just hang in there a little longer, Corporal.”

Bell lightly patted Corporal Citadel’s shoulder and took the lead.

Ad felt an inexplicable shame welling up inside him.

The general’s tent, lacking even a bell, was the very picture of tranquility.

Even after completing a grueling thirteen-hour shift, Saint Grisha had been summoned countless times by officers to tend to the wounded. She’d sit to write reports, only to be called away, catch her breath for a moment, and then be summoned again.

Saint, in name only. Her life was no different from that of a first-year medic toiling around the clock in the hospital ward.

I cast a look of pity her way, but she didn’t even glance in my direction.

An officer had just parted the thick blankets, stepping inside the tent.

“Ah, much hardship you endure…”

“I’ve come to see General Bin on business.”

“Oh, me?”

Not Grisha?

Grisha, still wearing the forced benevolent smile on her face, finally looked at me.

…Only when you didn’t know the truth could that smile feel benevolent; to my eyes, Grisha’s face looked endlessly pathetic and pitiable.

“What business is it?”

I slowly rose from the cot and asked the officer.

“Before departing on his mission, Bell entrusted you, Bin, with a task.”

“A task?”

“Gather an escort. I’ll explain the operation along the way.”

“Excuse me? Now?”

Couldn’t they at least give me a heads-up if I had a mission today?

Thorough security is all well and good, but shouldn’t at least the individuals embarking on the mission be informed?

“…Aedgar isn’t here.”

“It matters not. Gather every available soldier and be here in ten minutes. Once we’re assembled, I will brief you on the operation as we move.”

“…Where are we going?”

I asked, a growing unease rising within me, calling out to the officer’s retreating back.

He lifted a heavy blanket, answering in a low voice.

“To the front.”