Chapter 69

Worm exhaled a puff of purple smoke from his dry lips and gazed into the distance, doing nothing. He took one, then another drag, and a steady stream of white smoke rose from the cigarette in his fingers. Ash, pulled by gravity, crumbled and fell to the ground. The sun melted into the horizon of the vast Lake Selta, and the long day of the imperial knight was about to end.

Expressing emotions is exhausting. He never thought he would be so exhausted from crying at this age—while being held by a girl. He could only mock his own weakness. Yet, strangely, there was no disgust. There was no heaviness clinging to his mind and body, only pure fatigue, which was, in a sense, even comfortable.

Fighting, running, and fighting again. The fatigue that had accumulated and painted his body urged him to abandon his duties for a moment. Lying among the rubble created by the battle, his consciousness swayed with the sunset. While wandering between consciousness and unconsciousness, Worm was brought back to reality by the presence of someone.

Footsteps approached the imperial knight with a steady direction. Squinting his eyes, Worm identified the visitor.

"Hey... It's been a while, hasn't it? It's a mess, but, well, take a seat."

He swept away the rubble scattered on the floor of the abandoned house and invited the figure to sit. Though dirty, it was still considered relatively elegant in the area around Cape Raga, where the embers of war had not yet cooled. The guest sat down without hesitation and spoke.

"Well, you seem more energetic than I thought."

It was Jose, one of the members of the Dewey squad, with whom he had once fought on the battlefield. An overwhelming sense of joy and nostalgia welled up. His dark skin blended into the darkness, and his appearance had not changed much. His thin smile could be interpreted as cheerful or frivolous by some, but to Worm, who had shared hardships, it was a backward brightness born from a sense of resignation and acceptance.

"Were you worried about me?"

"Of course. An old acquaintance was going around killing people in a terrible way. I had to be a bit concerned, right? Well, it turned out to be a wasted concern."

The counterattack from Cape Raga included a light infantry company of the imperial army that had stormed from the water. Just as Worm had recognized his old friend on the battlefield, Jose had also recognized him.

"You went through a lot. Are you okay?"

"Hey, have you forgotten? I'm a fair-weather friend. I don't resist, so I don't break."

When Worm expressed his gratitude for the worry he had caused, Jose waved his wrist dismissively, but his eyes were not smiling.

"…That's good. Want a smoke? It's a fine brand from Captain Jef."

Worm took out a cigarette from his pocket, a high-quality one, different from the cheap soldier's cigarettes he usually smoked.

"That's a good one. I'll join you. The drink is cheap, but bear with me. I picked it up from a ship I was on."

Jose pointed to the remnants of a burned ship floating nearby. Worm nodded in understanding. It just so happened that there was a bottle of alcohol on the ship he was on, and it just so happened that the ship caught fire. There was no evidence left, and no lingering guilt.

"You're as efficient as ever."

Gathering two half-broken glasses from the rubble, they had a makeshift drinking session, typical of the Haiselk soldiers. There was no toast or signal for a celebratory drink. They simply drank as they pleased, without any gloom. They drank and conversed as if it were a daily routine, discussing trivial matters, complaints, and hardships, their rapport undiminished by the passage of time.

The conversation, which continued like breathing, was not eternal. It suddenly paused. They both seemed to understand. Jose broke the silence.

"…Dewey, the captain, well, he crossed a line. You know, the point of no return."

Worm understood what his old friend was getting at. The confusion and fear of his own goodness crumbling. Worm had not overcome it with a strong will. He had just happened to stop at the threshold.

"Captain—no, Major Dewey is…"

Struggling to find the right words, the imperial knight was interrupted by Jose, who continued.

"You saw his skin, right? It's from the dead squad members. Noll, Barito, Villart, and many others. It might have been part of the treatment, but to me, it became a curse. Imagine this: you wake up in the morning, go to wash your face, and see the skin of a dead subordinate in the water."

The words were cut off, as if to let Worm imagine. Traumatic and intense memories do not disappear with a little hope or healing. They only fade over time.

"No matter how many years pass, you won't be able to rest. The memories will only become more fixed and stronger."

"Yeah, that's right. Dewey is still the same. He's been living in the war. And once he crossed the line, it was like an avalanche. He kept adding sinners, rule-breakers, and unruly people to his subordinates."

Worm understood the true identity of the menacing imperial soldiers he had fought alongside at Cape Raga. A special unit of sinners and rule-breakers, a kind of penal battalion. Dewey was at the top of this group of people given a last chance.

"An ordinary unit would have collapsed, but they're ridiculously strong. They don't care about the means. And, despite everything, they take good care of their subordinates. People who would just be used up found a way out with Dewey. After the major rampage and the underground conflict with Liberato, they caused quite a stir. Sometimes they even blamed it on monsters. The disguise was perfect. There were several people who enjoyed playing with corpses. For them, it was like playing in the sand, just a difference between sand and flesh."

Jose grabbed a handful of rubble and laughed humorlessly, demonstrating a game.

"Thus, a squad of people with both innate and acquired loose heads and avengers gathered. A gang of outcasts from the already savage imperial people. Well, I'm saying all this, but I've gotten used to it. It's nostalgic, isn't it? The Riglia battalion. The squad, and Captain Kosul, who was rough but efficient. It was all war, but it was a comfortable place to be."

After a long speech, Jose took a drink and asked.

"Hey, Worm. Can you still fight? Will you fight?"

The forced smile was gone.

"What's with that question?"

"I've always thought you weren't cut out to be a soldier. No, you're better at killing than I am. You're one of the best in the imperial army. But, you know, you're too serious. Can you keep it up? Once you cross the line, you can't go back. Like the captain."

All the long preamble was worry and advice. Worm couldn't help but let out a small sigh.

"Heh, you're not so serious yourself."

"Damn, don't laugh and mock me."

Jose twisted his mouth, looking somewhat embarrassed. There was no forced smile.

"Sorry. But, I don't want to cross that line either. I don't have the confidence to go back. But, you know, I can't just stand by and do nothing when I know people and places I know are suffering."

"Hah, you're a hopeless idealist."

"Not really. I just don't want to be crushed by regret and guilt for doing nothing, for not being able to do anything. Did you know, in the island nations, I was drunk all year. I drank a lifetime's worth of alcohol."

"That's great. Was it good?"

Worm, who received a look of envy from his old friend, shook his head in denial.

"Not at all. I just poured it down my throat."

"What a waste. Next time, I hope you can drink a lifetime's worth with your memory intact."

"Yeah, that would be nice."

Worm didn't fully understand Jose's intentions. But he wasn't unaware of why he was told this story. He was being indirectly encouraged to flee, to escape from the war. If he hadn't been encouraged by the young girl, it might have been an option.

But Worm didn't run. Jose, finding it tasteless, didn't press the matter further. They purely celebrated the reunion with their old friend, conversed, and drank together. It was also a memorial for the squad members they had buried deep in their memories. They mourned the dead in the battlefield surrounded by corpses, despite the contradictions.

Early the next morning, an urgent message came from the capital through the communication magic device. The news of the Liberato Commercial Federation's major invasion of the imperial territory. While some faces twisted, no one was surprised.