Chapter 92

"Incapable, it seems. We'll lose if we don't get to the front lines, in this battle."

Karia's long sword drew a shining line, cruelly slicing through the abdomen of the elf before her. Blood splattered around, staining the road.

Wiping the blood from her cheek, Karia's gaze was no longer on the fallen enemy soldier but on Mathia. The commander of the gathered Emblem Church knights, Mathia.

"However, we are merely guest generals. We cannot afford to disrupt military discipline. Besides, can we even gauge the battle situation from this rear guard position?"

Mathia's unit was stationed not at the front lines but in a position slightly off to the side of the rear guard.

No matter how much they were allies and had once fought together, the elves could hardly be said to trust them. It was impossible to place such a group in important positions like the front lines or around Eldis. As a result, they were ordered to a position in the rear guard, a location that could hardly be called a promotion.

From this position, it was impossible to see the front lines, blocked as they were by the soldiers.

Mathia's question, spoken thus, made Karia shrug her shoulders in a somewhat exasperated manner.

"I can tell. Look at the flags; ours are collapsing. The front lines are no longer functioning. In fact, the arrival of enemy soldiers here is a good indication."

Indeed, when put that way, Mathia had no choice but to nod.

Enemy soldiers were leaking into Mathia's rear guard, which was already an abnormal situation. Although they were few in number, it seemed to be a group of soldiers who had broken away from the main force. Still, it was not easy for them to break through the front lines and reach this narrow road.

Mathia's expression twisted involuntarily. How should she judge this situation?

The battles she had experienced so far were at most small-scale skirmishes. Mathia had no experience commanding large-scale battles, only theoretical knowledge.

Even the defense of Galuamaria, to be honest, could hardly be said to have been under her command. Rather, many knights had fallen under her command. If she had done better, she might have minimized casualties and gained the upper hand.

Thus, she was hesitant. Was it right to recklessly send soldiers forward? This was a source of confusion.

"I'm going, even if you try to stop me. I'll attack from behind if I have to."

Fiarat was already stepping forward, passing by the hesitant Mathia and Karia. Her light cloak fluttered, and her black eyes gleamed.

A surge of magical power was emanating from her back. In this war, Fiarat had not yet fully utilized her power. Such an opportunity had not come to the rear. If she had the will, she could demonstrate her full strength right here and now.

However, it was strange for her to volunteer to go to the front lines.

At that moment, a bad feeling crept into Mathia's mind.

"Probably, or rather, definitely. He's at the front lines, using the sword I embedded."

Fiarat's words were followed by Karia's disgruntled addition, "It's my treasured sword, you know."

Indeed, that was the case. Mathia covered her mouth with her hand. Whether it was Fiarat or Karia, they usually displayed their extraordinary abilities when he was involved. She had come to understand this all too well over the past few days.

There was no need to ask who Fiarat was referring to.

It had to be their ally, the rough hero, Ruis. She didn't know the mechanism, but Fiarat seemed to have detected his location somehow. If that was the case, she would naturally go.

"What do you plan to do, you?"

Karia's short question reached Mathia's ears. There was no question of what to do. Mathia could easily predict Karia's next words. In other words, she was saying this:

"Whether you like it or not, we're going. If you're coming, follow us; we'll clear the way."

Karia said this very casually, her silver eyes gleaming with what seemed like joy.

◆◇◆◇

To be honest, Mathia still couldn't properly process Ruis's existence in her emotions.

He was both her savior, who had saved her from a deadly blade, and her nemesis, who had bound her to this world. He was an enigmatic presence that stirred her emotions.

She understood that actions should be taken based on reason and strategy, yet when it came to Ruis, her emotions seemed to take on a will of their own.

In fact, even as she thought it was foolish to move the unit for his sake, Mathia was rushing to the front lines with her unit.

No, that's not it. This was a strategic move to prevent Karia and Fiarat, valuable assets to the Emblem Church, from being isolated. It was nothing more than a calculation. Her heart had not been moved by Ruis.

Mathia narrowed her eyes as she kicked the ground firmly.

—A holy maiden must never be a slave to her emotions. A holy maiden is a noble servant of the gods.

When had she been told this? She couldn't even remember who had said it or when, but it was certainly from a long time ago.

Until this moment, Mathia had lived with these words as her own shackles. As a result, she had earned the trust and near-reverent support of the people as a holy maiden.

Therefore, it was unacceptable to be swayed by emotions. Acting on emotions would mean negating her past self and letting go of what she had achieved. That was something she absolutely could not do.

Moreover, Mathia thought, Ruis was just an ally and a guest, not an Emblem Church follower. It was strange to have any feelings for him.

Thus, this action was not driven by emotion, and it would never be driven by emotion in the future.

With this resolve, as she pushed through the soldiers and entered the front lines, Mathia indeed found Ruis, just as Fiarat had said.

—At the very moment he was about to be killed by the enemy commander.

Mathia's eyes widened, and her body moved involuntarily.

Certainly, Mathia would never speak of this moment.

The moment she saw the scene, her resolve, which she had solidified, melted away, and her mind discarded the chains of reason and the scales of strategy.

What was even more shameful was that her words came out before anyone else's. Before Karia's silver light flashed with her sword or Fiarat's magic enveloped her body, she spoke to the archers who had just finished their preparations.

"—Fire! Rescue our comrade, Ruis!"

Her voice, like a thunderclap, echoed around, permeating the battlefield. She called Ruis not an ally or a guest but a comrade, as if to replace the word.