Chapter 61

The bell, an unbearably harsh bell, rang irregularly. Despite his eyelids being heavily closed, the blinding white flash was seared into his retina. His body felt as if it were floating, unable to move as if he had sunk to the bottom of the sea. Frustrated by the pressure and the suffocation, Fliug pushed away the heavy weight that was pressing down on him.

"Huff, haa... haa..."

Dirt and dust cascaded off his raised upper body. He spat out the gravel that had filled his mouth, mixed with saliva. His eyes, which had been slow to adjust to the light, gradually began to take in the surroundings. Grayish dust billowed higher than a person's height. Unidentifiable debris was scattered around, and holes were gouged into the ground as if the earth had been plucked by a giant's hand. Someone was shouting in Fliug's ear, where he had collapsed in a daze.

"Hey!! C, come on!"

A man, dirty with sweat and blood, repeatedly shook Fliug's shoulder. What was going on? Fliug frowned at the noise. His vision was still blurry, but it gradually came into focus. The man's face, as dirty as if he had crawled into a chimney, was familiar. After a few deep breaths, oxygen finally began to circulate in Fliug's oxygen-deprived brain.

"Captain!! Captain Fliug!! Give us orders!"

"Wait a moment."

"Please hurry!! They're going to dig up the entire town."

The one begging for orders was Saura, the most senior non-commissioned officer in the company. Regaining his senses, Fliug lay down to assess the situation. Using the rubble as a defensive line, the formation that had been neatly aligned was now in tatters. The town had been hit by a barrage of flashes. This destruction, not the result of concentrated use of mage soldiers but of a single mage soldier, was likely the reported "Holy Strike."

Attack magic that was supposed to be used for reinforcements and urban assaults was now targeting the company. Even a reinforced company, which had been bolstered by stragglers, had lost more than half of its combat capability. Pinned down by the firepower, a breakthrough into the inland peninsula was about to be opened. As a frontline commander, Fliug's experience told him to retreat immediately. But now that he knew the overall situation, he could not give that order.

"Visibility is obstructed by dust, and the enemy's attacks are random... Re-form the line amidst the dust. Even if it's thin and distorted, it's fine. Pin the soldiers to the ground until the enemy advances."

The "Holy Strike," which had more penetration power than a wide attack range, was crushing the rubble and digging into the earth. It was a formidable skill, but against a light infantry company, it was overkill. Therefore, Fliug saw an opportunity. After the initial few strikes, the dust acted as a smokescreen, and the attacks lacked consistency. The collateral damage was a result of targeting likely hiding spots, such as houses and rubble. The dust that had accumulated over the long history of the town was now being released with the end of the march.

"Inside, the dust?"

"Yes."

At the spot where Saura's puzzled gaze fell, a soldier hit by a direct "Holy Strike" vanished, turning into a blood mist. Fliug did not change his mind despite the accusatory look in the soldier's eyes.

"Either way, if we retreat, we'll just be cut down from behind."

Saura looked up at the sky, but the blue was obscured by the drifting dust. Only a gray, cloud-like pattern remained. The veteran, with a mix of resignation and determination, solemnly answered Fliug.

"Yes, as you command!"

The courteous non-commissioned officer crawled like a lizard and disappeared into the rubble. Soon, scattered soldiers began to emit curses and screams. As the company members gathered, rolling and sliding, flashes and flames soared over their heads, and slight elevations or rubble kept them alive.

"It's no use, no use!"

"Idiot—stand up!"

A soldier, driven mad by the noise and impact, ignored his comrades' warnings and stood up, only to be consumed by the landing flames, his upper body vanishing. The skin was burned by the flying embers, and even the rubble striking the armor, Fliug and the soldiers gritted their teeth and endured. Suddenly, a silence descended on the battlefield, like a storm passing.

"Stay still until the signal."

Fliug's quiet command was relayed by the non-commissioned officers and veterans. The end of the fire suppression was also the beginning of a full-scale attack. With a spirited cheer, countless boots pounded the ground. Confusion lingered in their movements.

"I can't see anything!!"

"Stay in step!!"

"What are we charging at?"

"That attack, everyone's being wiped out."

The ears pressed to the ground picked up the sounds of footsteps and the soldiers' grumbling. Through the gaps in the dust, the confused faces of the Clayst soldiers, who had lost sight of their enemies, were visible. The soldiers under Fliug's command, half-buried in dirt and rubble, glared at them with fierce eyes. They were still far, very far. Fliug pushed his limits to the maximum. Enduring was something he was used to.

"All units, counterattack!!"

"Giiya—!!?"

The company, which had been pinned to the ground, rose as one and confronted the Clayst soldiers. No fancy techniques or skills were needed; just aim at what you can see. Fliug slashed the necks of those who were conversing and struck their helmets with his sword. The Clayst soldiers, caught off guard, could not put up much resistance and were replaced by the Haiselk soldiers lying on the ground. The subordinates simply followed their superior.

"Ambush!!"

"They were waiting in there!!"

The soldiers, covered in dust and with their clothes and skin worn down, looked like wraiths. Despite their appearance, the company, formed from the survivors of Dandueg Castle, functioned as a violent machine. Stabbing, bludgeoning, and shooting, the Clayst soldiers in the front row were massacred by the imperial-style welcome. Surprising the enemy, the Haiselk soldiers even turned the tide to a counterattack. But it was only temporary, a final glow before the fire went out. It could not last.

"Giiya—!!"

"Close the gaps!!"

The Clayst Kingdom's army, having broken through one row, steadily advanced the next. The exhausted Fliug company no longer had the strength to repel them.

"You're just a small force, kill each one with certainty!!"

Originally, a loosely formed line. Once engaged, it was easily broken. The broken line became scattered points, and despite their efforts, they were surrounded and eliminated.

"It's no good, they're breaking through."

"Captain, merge!! We're being surrounded!"

Especially in the center, this was evident. The left wing, led by Saura, was on the verge of collapse but held its ground, while the right wing was annihilated. The center, led by Fliug himself, was about to meet its end. The most senior non-commissioned officer suggested merging, but Fliug had no intention of doing so. After all, Fliug had already sent so many to their deaths. There was no way he could be overlooked.

"Saura, gather your forces, you're in command now."

"Don't joke. What are you saying, you fool!!"

"Buy time. All units, give it everything you've got, don't falter!!"

Organized resistance was impossible, no matter how much he wished for it. He was no longer a commander. All that remained was a beast-like roar and individual struggles.

"Some are retreating. Pursue them... ugh!?"

Fliug cut down the squire who had ordered the soldiers to attack the backs of those retreating from the battlefield and stepped into his line of sight. Even if he was in tatters, he was not so weakened as to be easily defeated. His sword declared, "I am here."

"Damn, you're in the way, are you trying to be a rear guard?"

"Kill the commander!! That will end this ridiculous resistance."

"Now, strike!!"

A group of spearmen, spurred on by the knight, raised their spears and advanced on Fliug. Several spears descended from above, leaving no room to dodge. Supporting the flat of his sword with his gauntlet, Fliug braced for the impact. The strike was powerful, the tips of the spears that he could not parry piercing through his armor, grinding against his collarbone and spine, and knocking off his helmet.

"Next!!"

Gritting his teeth and enduring the pain, Fliug cut the spears that were being pulled back with his longsword. One tip was severed, and another was bent halfway. If the initial strike had been with a long spear, his arm would have been broken. A bad hit would have shattered his head.

"Here they come!!"

The Clayst soldiers, having lost their spears' functionality, responded differently. Some threw away their broken spears, while others tried to use them as clubs. Fliug closed the distance without dodging. The spear handle pierced his chest plate but slid off after a moment of resistance, flowing to the side. Before the soldier who had thrown away his broken spear could draw his short sword, Fliug swung his longsword. The blade cut through the helmet and the side of the head, and the soldier's eyes rolled in a direction they should not have. After seven more swings, the spearmen were dead.

"Huff, haa, haa..."

Surrounded by corpses, Fliug steadied his ragged breathing and assessed his next opponent. His gaze was fixed on a gap in the formation. Far in the distance, behind the ranks, he saw someone.

"Is it... Asama?"

Yuto Asama, one of the three heroes of the Clayst Kingdom. He was within reach. Who could look away?

"Continue, we'll take the head of one of the three heroes."

Only a handful of soldiers responded to his call. But it was enough for Fliug now.

◆

"Are you still fighting?"

Yuto had meticulously destroyed the town and its inhabitants. Yet, amidst such destruction, they had survived. Some hid in the shadows of ruins, others in hollows. Even the monsters of the magic domain would abandon their territory if hit by a "Holy Strike" at close range. Yet, these humans, more fragile than monsters, had not lost their will to fight, standing firm by sheer force of will.

"You could be saved if you surrender, why go this far..."

Despair, or perhaps a burning desire to fight. The worlds they lived in were too different. The enemy group, which had briefly turned to a counterattack, was quickly reduced in numbers, their bodies piling up and collapsing. He could understand the meaning and significance of this battle, but he could not accept it from the bottom of his heart. The left wing of the enemy was completely wiped out, and the center was following. The right wing, which still maintained its formation, would also collapse and be exhausted.

In the melee, where the soldiers of both sides were interlocked, firing a "Holy Strike" would hit friendly forces. As a mage soldier, there was nothing more he could do. Yuto tried to etch their final moments into his memory. A soldier, despite losing a hand, swung his sword and fell, taking several with him.

But individual efforts could not change the tide of the battle. Yuto, frowning bitterly, was suddenly drawn to an unnatural gap in the enemy's formation.

"What is—"

There stood the commander of the nearly dead Haiselk army. Their eyes met for a moment. Eyes can speak volumes. In the madness of the battlefield, the Haiselk commander's strong eyes still held intelligence. There, Yuto found his answer. Whatever it was, they were fighting for something they could not give up. There was no giving up. The battle would continue until one side broke.

"Continue, we'll take the head of one of the three heroes."

Called by the name he had earned through killing, Yuto faced the four remaining soldiers in the center. It was clear they did not have the strength to break through the rows of soldiers. Swords would cut them down, spears would strip away their armor. They would be overwhelmed by the human wave.

"Aim for their limbs, stop them for sure."

"Just a few, don't let them through!!"

The pursuing soldiers, having passed the third row, all ran out of strength. The lone commander continued to advance. He did not stop. He even passed the fourth row. The knight guards, showing their vigilance, moved forward. The Haiselk commander no longer avoided fatal wounds, maintaining only the parts necessary to reach Yuto, cutting down the Clayst soldiers who tried to block his path. He did not waste a breath on screams or roars, not uttering a single sound, which was abnormal.

"Will you make it, Haiselk scum?"

"Sir Yuto, step back."

Somewhere, he had been overconfident. Not everything can be measured by one's own standards. The Haiselk commander had accomplished the impossible, the impossible breakthrough. But at the same time, he had used up everything at the fifth row. A single spear pierced his back and torso. In the moment he stopped, moving blood, swords and spear tips rushed at him.

"...You stopped."

His feet tried to move forward, but his crucified body did not budge. His movements gradually slowed, and he hung his head like a marionette with its strings cut. No one felt relief at this scene. The soldier's breakthrough had been divine. Yuto was no exception. He exhaled, releasing the tension that had built