Chapter 59

Her body felt as heavy as lead. The blood circulating through her lungs, desperate for oxygen, mixed with her exhalations, filling her mouth with a bitter taste. Still, Ayane continued to run. If she stopped here, she wouldn't be able to face those who had sent her off. The only thing she could do, in her powerlessness, was to run.

"Phew, ugh... haa, haa..."

The armor, ill-suited to her small frame, jolted and jostled, churning her insides. The discomfort, penetrating to her core, felt like intoxication. To be this exhausted after running this much. Self-loathing and even admiration welled up in her. The soldiers who fought on the battlefield had moved freely while wearing such heavy gear. Her oxygen-starved brain, spinning in circles, let her thoughts drift toward despair. What had happened to them? What would happen to them?

She took short, rapid breaths, her eyes fixed on the swaying buttocks in front of her. She had to focus on running. Her pulse and breathing were going wild. She couldn't think. She repeated denials and affirmations, questioning herself. If she could just let her mind wander and not think, she felt it might be a little easier. But that, too, came to an abrupt end.

"So, it's not that easy, huh?"

Until then, Moritz had not uttered a single word, but now he muttered with a self-deprecating tone. Ayane had been following his footsteps as instructed. That's why she hadn't noticed the signs. The messenger, placing his hand on his waist, drew his weapon. A Clayst soldier collapsed with a groan from the shadows of the trees.

"Enemy soldier, he's broken through!!"

"They're thorough, aren't they? To set up a net like this."

The other soldier in the pair was blocking their path. The Clayst Kingdom's army seemed determined not to let a single person escape from the treatment center. After a few sword strikes, the messenger and the soldier he had just killed were left behind. It seemed like a futile sacrifice. But in reality, the interference was extremely effective.

"Ha, are they, living decoys?"

"They're skilled, don't let your guard down."

Three soldiers were staring at Ayane. The familiar armor. They were the knights and their squires from Rehazen.

"I'm a bit tired from running. Please go ahead. I can take care of three of them."

It was that face again. Ayane, about to speak, was cut off by the messenger's roar and aura.

"Rehazen's knights and squires, I have no shortage of opponents!!"

The man's back moved away, giving Ayane no time to hesitate while also helping her escape.

"One person is escaping!!"

"Ugh, this guy..."

"Don't be distracted, kill this one first."

Ayane, who had started to run, turned back at the familiar groan. Moritz, exhausted, was fighting with all his might, regardless of the consequences. He looked like a candle burning out. Blood dripped from his limbs, and he received heavy blows through his chest plate. It was clear he wouldn't last much longer.

"...No, no, no..."

After a few steps, Ayane finally stopped. She didn't know why she reached out to the ground. She picked up something and threw it. The pebble, thrown with the force of someone who couldn't even kill a bug, drew a parabolic arc. A high-pitched, out-of-place sound echoed, and the time of the men engaged in combat froze for a moment.

"Hehe, I hit it."

Ayane had no experience with throwing. The closest thing was the handball throw in physical fitness tests, which she had thrown to the ground with all her might. Perhaps it was the adrenaline of the situation or the perfect release of strength due to fatigue. It was a miracle that it hit. An indescribable sense of accomplishment. Regret welled up in her.

"...What, little girl. Do you want to die so soon?"

The knight, his mood dampened, glared at the culprit. The squire, reacting late, recognized the girl.

"Wait. That's Ayane!"

"That's an unexpected stroke of luck. She could have escaped."

The knight, with a sadistic smile, slowly approached.

"Lady Ayane, what are you doing!!"

Moritz, who had bought her time, tried to interfere with the knight, but the squires wouldn't allow it.

"You stay there and watch Ayane die."

What could she say to those who had saved her and helped her escape? The girl knew she had done something foolish. She knew it clearly. It wouldn't solve anything. But she couldn't abandon someone being killed right in front of her.

"Aren't you going to draw your sword? It's not just for show."

"Ugh, ugh, ugh..."

Trying to grab the sword given to her for self-defense, her hand slipped through the air. Ayane, who had swung twice in vain, finally gripped the hilt, but the blade wouldn't come out of the scabbard. It just made a clattering sound. The knight, looking at her with disdain, said:

"Enough. Die there."

In the end, the sword wouldn't come out. The approaching death made her body tremble. Her sense of balance, distorted by the dire situation, turned the ground beneath her feet into mud, making it impossible to step back.

"Ah..."

A bloody wind pierced her back. It was a thick, intense smell of death. Was the Grim Reaper here to witness her death? Still, Ayane couldn't turn around in fear. The Rehazen knight, his expression changing, roared.

"Riders are coming, a lone rider is charging!!"

The shadow and sword that extended from behind her crossed in the air. The impact, tearing through the air, struck her eardrums. The Rehazen knight, thrown back by the shock, faced the man who had leaped from the horse, approaching in a high stance.

"Here I come!! Nng, ugh—uuuugh!!?"

The axe, enveloped in magic, struck the raised sword and cleaved through the body, helmet and all. Unlike the first strike, the clear, ringing sound had a certain beauty. Blood spurted from the body split by the halberd. Organs fell to the ground, blooming like fleshy flowers. The demon's face, drenched in the red rain, chattered and drank the crimson.

"Ha, a Haiselk knight. Are you even human!!?"

"Don't be afraid, kill him!!"

The squires, leaving the injured messenger behind, charged at the man. Their synchronized steps and coordinated sword movements, even to the untrained eye of Ayane, spoke of years of practice. Such a meticulously choreographed attack was easily broken by a single thrust. The halberd, cutting through the half-step gap, only made the situation worse.

The trail of blood, as if pulled by a red thread, floated in the air. One was cut at the carotid artery by the branch blade, and another was pierced through the eye socket. In the end, it took fewer than the number of fingers on both hands to pile up the bodies. Despite the gruesome and horrific scene, Ayane felt an inexplicable sense of relief.

"Lady Ayane, first. This kind of wound is nothing."

Moritz, avoiding fatal injuries, called out to the imperial knight.

"Ayane, are you alright!?"

The Haiselk knight, Worm, removed his helmet and ran over. Mistaking her slumped posture for an injury, Ayane nodded repeatedly to show she was fine.

"Are you hurt—"

Worm, looking at the outstretched arm he had offered, pulled it back with a grim face. He tried to wipe the blood-stained hand on his clothes. Ayane forcefully grabbed the folded arm. The imperial knight, rarely flustered, trembled, and the demon's face shook in dissatisfaction. No matter how blood-soaked, it was a hand that Ayane couldn't afford to lose. There was no reason to hesitate.

"Are you cut anywhere?"

In the grim battlefield, the act of wiping blood-stained hands for someone else. In the midst of war, which could warp values and ideologies, he had maintained his self and struggled to do so.

"Mr. Worm, Mr. Worm!"

"What's wrong, are you in pain!?"

That's why. To him, even these words might be a curse. Still, Ayane pleaded with the knight.

"Please, help everyone, help everyone."

"Ah."

Without any calculation or hesitation, the knight responded to the girl's earnest plea.

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