107. The Northern Front

Once they had put some distance between themselves and the capital, Evergarde, Eisenwolf Commander began to pick up the pace.

The road leading north was exceptionally well-maintained, allowing for a swift march.

And so, the first day of their trek concluded with a night of camping.

Isaac shuddered to think that he might have been walking, had it not been for Ravenpole.

Tents sprung up in close proximity, while other soldiers simply wrapped themselves in blankets near the bonfires, preparing to rough it.

The soup, generously laden with meat and vegetables that had been doled out as rations, was not half bad.

“Woah, what’s this? Are they allowed to give us this much?”

“The portions are…passable, aren’t they? Hmmm, but the aroma has a curious quality to it…”

Isaac offered a brief explanation in response to Sharen and the Grand Master’s mutterings as they sat together.

“They are using food supplies that were nearing spoilage, or about to go bad. You see, an army’s purpose extends beyond mere protection. It also serves to consume these difficult resources.”

“Ew, suddenly I don’t want to eat it anymore.”

“Eat up regardless. We will be marching again tomorrow without respite. Does not a Hellmunt possess a strong stomach?”

“…That’s right, Hellmunts possess strong stomachs.”

And with that, Sharen gulped down the soup. It seemed the Grand Master had learned a few tricks on how to manage Sharen, after a few tries.

With Sharen between them, Isaac cautiously addressed the Grand Master.

“What did you do with Damien?”

Damien.

The Grand Master’s oldest disciple, a man with the rather unique background of being a former thief.

Isaac, during his days as Silent Blade, had also taught him various swordsmanship styles.

He was considered a trustworthy person, but it was Damien who had opened the gates to our fortress during the final Inhuman invasion.

Isaac was curious about her thoughts regarding Damien.

“I sent him ahead. He likely arrived in the north before us.”

“I did not bring it up to speak ill of him.”

“I know it well. It would be right for you to grasp it at least to this degree. But, child… I am yet undecided.”

“……”

“Even accepting the deaths of our fellows remains a knot in my chest—”

The Grandmaster found the very situation of suspecting his disciple unsavory.

Isaac offered a wry smile and nodded.

“Forgive me. It seems I spoke needlessly.”

“Nay. It is you who are fated to live with such anxieties and regrets; rather, I am sorry that I cannot bear even a sliver of that burden with you.”

“……What are you two talking about?”

Sharen, having finished her soup, glanced back and forth between them. The Grandmaster chuckled at her question, dismissing it as nothing of consequence.

“Hmm, those ones, are they?”

The Grandmaster continued eating his soup, gesturing to one side.

There, a group of young nobles were conversing with somewhat loud voices.

It was the Azure Stream Society, as Claris had mentioned.

“Yes, the Azure Stream Society. It’s said to be a gathering spearheaded by young nobles.”

“It seems those sorts always emphasize ‘youth’ and ‘innovation’ when they gather.”

“……”

Words came to mind, but he decided against voicing them. This time, it might not be bread, but soup that was flung.

As he stared intently in their direction, a woman and a man from the Azure Stream Society approached Isaac’s group.

The Leias family.

Leian and Marlin, brother and sister.

“Are you all resting comfortably?”

‘Their audacity is almost something to admire.’

Marlin, trailing meekly behind the impudent Leian, offered only a fleeting glance of acknowledgement.

“Hmm? What business brings you here?”

“Oh, so the ears are truly upon your head?”

“……”

The Grandmaster, known as a confidante of Princess Claris and as a mixed-blood who sided with humanity.

Naturally, the ears and tail springing from his head were bound to catch eyes.

“If one is without learning and thus lacks courtesy, it could be excused. Yet, you do not seem to be so lacking, do you not?”

The Grandmaster’s gaze took on a chilling weight. Even Sharen beside him flinched.

However, Leian, rather than being intimidated, only smirked and nodded at the Grandmaster’s reaction.

“We nobles are taught to be prepared, to anticipate, and to make ready.”

Behind him, other nobles affiliated with the Azure Stream Society began to gather.

“General Commander Eisenwolf instructed us not to take the Transcendent lightly.”

“……”

“Thus, we have come to receive guidance. Even if you are but a mixed-blood, how formidable could they truly be… Might we request some instruction?”

The Grandmaster glanced sidelong at Isaac, who was blinking at the approaching members of the Azure Stream Society.

‘What are these kids going on about now?’

There are many ways to be bruised by life, but amidst a procession teeming with soldiers, how had they managed to fixate on precisely the most dangerous woman present?

“To put it nicely… truly energetic, one might say.”

The Grand Master slowly rose from her seat.

She hefted the greatsword leaning beside her.

“Conversely, one could say they don’t know their place.”

The Blue Stream Society, who moments ago were all playful smiles, now wore hardened expressions. Hot-blooded yet arrogant young nobles.

They were not the sort to tolerate being ignored.

Especially not when gathered together.

“Haha, let’s see some skill then. Martin, you first–“

“Don’t speak nonsense.”

The Grand Master swept past them, heading towards a spacious clearing.

Others, sensing the ominous atmosphere, discreetly began to slip away.

“The first day of marching, so a spectacle might let the soldiers rest easy.”

The Grand Master drew her greatsword, slinging it over her shoulder.

Normally, simply drawing it would be a skill, a means of attack in itself.

She was conceding a handicap, signifying the start.

“Come at me all at once.”

“Such a humiliating–“

“Daring to, a foreigner besides!”

“An animal, ignorant of noble honor.”

As the Blue Stream Society followed the Grand Master, Sharen smacked her lips, searching for more to eat.

“Isaac, how long do you think the Grand Master will take?”

Isaac pondered for a moment, Sharen not even considering the possibility of defeat.

“It might take a little longer than you think.”

“Hmm? Really? Even for the Grand Master?”

“Because she has to subdue them without injury. If she were killing them, it’d be over quickly.”

“Ah.”

Sharen nodded.

Amidst the scene of nobles charging the Grand Master, one Blue Stream Society noble remained rooted to the spot.

Marilyn Levius.

“…Are you not going?”

To Isaac’s question, Marilyn replied, expressionless.

“I was taught not to draw my sword for something meaningless.”

“…”

“Furthermore, if I were to draw my sword here, the compensation for Baron Logan would lessen.”

‘Excessively inflexible.’

He wondered if she was truly Reian’s sibling, so rigid and indifferent was she.

In some ways, she was even worse than Rianna.

“Something about her… resembles the old sister.”

Isaac nodded at Sharen’s murmur. Their appearances weren’t similar, but her actions and manner of speaking were reminiscent of Rianna in the past.

Kkyaaahhh!

“Gah-erk!”

The scream tore through the air.

My eyes swept past Merlin. The nobles of the so-called Azure Stream Society were all sent sprawling, bodies skidding across the ground.

“If you possess such noble blood, then show a measure of spirit worthy of it!”

“Keu-heu-euk!”

Rayan Leviace was the least worse for wear. He hadn’t been thrown, but remained kneeling, pressing against the earth.

The assault was too much for him to withstand in the end.

The moment Rayan’s sword clattered to the ground, the Grand Master’s greatsword arced once more.

“I won’t take your head.”

Instead, he cleanly sheared off Rayan’s beard.

“Ah…?!”

“Take it as a lesson.”

The Grand Master, cigarette dangling from his lips.

Rayan gaped, watching his severed beard scattered on the ground, trembling.

“W-what is this-! What kind of madness is this!”

“It was unsightly. You should be grateful. It was a beard unbecoming of your age in the first place.”

“I nurtured it with balms, growing it with such pains!”

“What a waste of effort, indeed.”

The Grand Master nodded, exhaling a plume of smoke. Rayan seethed, ready to pounce, but.

“Enough!”

The dignified voice of the Commander-in-Chief resonated, echoing through the night air.

Knight Commander Eisenwolf, his face etched with deep wrinkles, intervened.

“We depart early tomorrow morning. Enough of this. Those on watch, prepare for your duties. The rest, prepare for sleep.”

“Lord Eisenwolf! This woman is-!”

“Will you become this agitated over a mere beard, even on the battlefield?”

“Keuek!”

“As the woman said, on the battlefield, you’d have lost your head! If you are defeated so shamefully, outnumbered or not, then you deserve to pay the price!”

Rayan clamped his mouth shut.

The Grand Master shrugged, walking past Rayan and the scattered nobles, returning to his former place.

“The old man is sly, pretending to be so grave.”

“You mean Lord Eisenwolf?”

“He was deliberately waiting for me to deliver the humiliation. It seems Princess Klaris wasn’t the only one who believed the Azure Stream Society needed their noses knocked down a peg.”

In the end, the Azure Stream Society, who were soaring high, have smashed their heads right into the ceiling.

Still, I doubted these young nobles would yield so easily.

Above all, they were brimming with youthful vigor, were they not?

* * *

A few days later.

The foot soldiers ahead were beginning to noticeably slow their pace.

The biting chill of the northern winds stung the bridge of my nose, and the Grand Master’s breath puffed out in white clouds instead of cigarette smoke.

We arrived at the northern front, where a hasty barricade of stakes and logs stood against the demonic beasts.

Indeed, the true commencement lies from this moment, yet a flush of relief bloomed upon the soldiers’ faces, for the tiresome march had at long last concluded.

“……”

Isaac felt a faint tension grip him, unbidden. There, in that place, awaited his former wife, whom he had not seen in nearly half a year.

‘Surprisingly, I’m at a loss as to how one should greet her.’

While Isaac fretted in his unease,

A shock of red hair sprinted toward them, as if to greet the arriving party.

Isaac narrowed his eyes, wondering if it could be Rianna, but,

The hair was too short to belong to Rianna; the build too sturdy, the greatsword too crudely shaped, its form akin to jagged horns.

“Ah……”

“Uwaah.”

Isaac and Sharen breathed the exclamations in unison.

Spraying crimson mist with each stride, he had emerged to greet Isaac before all others.

“Isaaac!”

The man, whose record of sparring victories was perpetually nil.

Loengreen, the eldest son of Hellmunt, charged towards Isaac.