Chapter 86

The trees, stripped of their branches and leaves, stood like skeletons. The vibrant green that once dotted the landscape had now been consumed, leaving only gray. The slope that spread out along the cut-through showed no signs of life. The plants had withered, and even the monsters had long since fled. Ironically, only the humans, who had become rational beasts, continued to pile up corpses.

“Don’t let your guard down, keep piling up the earth.”

“Where are the enemy mages!?”

The winding approach paths, dug to chest depth, deflected projectiles. At the firing points, earth-filled burlap bags were stacked, capable of withstanding even direct hits from weak attack spells.

“Did the replacement not hear about the trouble? Perhaps it would have been better not to kill them.”

The enemy positions were once burned with a *Will-o'-the-wisp*, but the complex terrain prevented the fire from spreading. The characteristics of the blue flames were well-known, and the damage could not be extended beyond the targeted small groups. Such countermeasures had been in place before. The Liberato Commercial Federation Army, despite suffering repeated losses during the retreat from the Riven Mines, had developed countermeasures and steadily advanced.

However, it was impossible to ignore the mounting pressure. Venting was urgent, and Worm targeted the intersection of the approach paths. A warning cry from the enemy soldiers, who had detected the attack spell, was followed by the explosion of a fireball, which sent shock and heat eroding the earth.

“Instant death, or using corpses as shields?”

There were no death throes in the dancing blue flames, only a slight scattering of red-black soil. If he had managed to kill one or two, it would be a good result. Worm, who had been mingling with the soldiers to confirm the results, spotted an enemy soldier emerging from the ground and issued a warning.

“They’re coming!!”

At Orzeka’s attack point, those who were not paying attention to their surroundings were being eliminated. The short cry elicited a quick response. The water projectiles formed blew away the breastworks on the edge of the earthworks. Cold soil rained down from above. The soldiers who had thrown themselves to the ground and fallen, shook their heads like dogs to clear the mud and roared in anger.

“Damn, they’re shooting like rats!!”

“What about our *Earth Bullets*? They’re only hitting us.”

“It’s a mana drain, they’ve retreated to the rear.”

The soldiers, hoping for a counterattack, turned their gaze to the Imperial Knights.

“It’s no use. They’ve already moved.”

The soldiers, unable to exact revenge, lowered their heads in defeat. The enemy was not foolish. To avoid the loss of valuable mages, they fled like hares after an attack. It was a hit-and-run tactic. Indeed, Worm was in no position to criticize them, as he too roamed the battlefield, firing without pause.

“The blood won’t stop, even with pressure on the wound.”

“Was it an ice spear? Stuff the wound with cloth. Pressing from above won’t stop it.”

“Get him out of here quickly. This isn’t a hospital.”

“The stones are running out!!”

“Bring stones from the flat ground. It’s too late after they run out.”

Worm grimaced at the unknown liquid clinging to his boots. He disliked the field mobility that made his heart race, but he disliked even more the defensive battles that aimed to bleed each other out.

“Lower the corpses and replace them. Don’t open any gaps.”

“Stuff burlap bags into the collapsed breastworks. There’s no time to fix them properly.”

“Return fire!! Someone take out the shooters on the mound.”

“Hit, hit—ah, ugh, aah!!?”

“Idiot, you’re sticking your head out too much.”

The archer, who had been jumping in excitement at the arrow’s hit, suddenly writhed after receiving an arrow in the shoulder. The tactics had clearly changed. A unified will could be felt from the opposing group. While retaining the predecessor’s strategy, the new offensive was more intense. The stalemate, which had avoided attrition, had shifted to one that inflicted attrition while accepting losses. The relentless attacks, day and night, were based on a planned rotation. It was a technique made possible by ample manpower.

“Commander, it’s time to rotate the troops.”

The only silver lining was that they had also received reinforcements. The soldier who ran along the top of the earthworks, crouched, was one of the reinforcements sent from the outpost. Already, a third of Deborah’s training company had become combat ineffective, and two new squads had been dispatched from the outpost. The forward position, which was supposed to buy time, was holding out longer than expected. It was no wonder they wanted to add more reinforcements.

“Already that time?”

Reflecting on it, he had taken his position last night. The moon had set, the sun had passed its zenith, and the day was tilting. Only then did Worm realize the fatigue that clung to him.

“Yes, you’ve been fighting for half a day already.”

“Understood. I’ll stay until the replacement arrives.”

Descending the inner slope of the cut-through, the rotation of the troops proceeded quietly. Worm, having seen off the last soldier supported by the commander Moise, left the earthworks. Passing through the flat ground, which was bustling with emergency treatment and supply deliveries, he noticed a familiar figure as he approached the bailey.

“Hey, Worm. Are you off work?”

It was Yogim, waving casually. He had probably finished a short rest and was returning to the front lines.

“The enemy is persistent, and they won’t let me go easily.”

“Endless overtime is exhausting.”

Their weary appearances and forced cheerful tones only added to the air of false cheer. It was as if they were having a conversation like office workers after work, despite the different place and world. Worm exhaled, releasing the tension that had been building up.

“Huh, ha, ha.”

“Oh, I’m glad you found it amusing. How’s the front line?”

“It’s completely changed. If the reinforcements hadn’t come, we would have retreated to the main keep by now.”

“The new enemy commander, for better or worse, sees the soldiers as numbers. They’re not given the time to think unnecessarily while ensuring necessary rest.”

“Neither alive nor dead, huh?”

“Quite a grim phrase. Is that a teaching of the Haiselk people?”

Yogim, with a serious face, made a statement that the Imperial Knight protested.

“What do you think we are?”

“Oops, my mistake. I’d love to chat over a meal, but waiting for Deborah is terrifying.”

“Family time is important. I’ll enjoy the thin porridge on my own.”

Watching Yogim run off, Worm continued through the bailey. His destination was the cooking area next to the barracks. The large pot boiling with steam was a cruel temptation to his empty stomach. In a battlefield with no real freedom, it was one of the few pleasures he could indulge in.

“Hey, can’t you give us a little more?”

The new recruit, who had been fighting until just a moment ago, was whining. The cook dismissed the plea.

“Just making the bowls bigger won’t increase the amount.”

The clay-like flatbread was thrust at him, and the new recruit left with a sigh. The subsequent soldiers waited anxiously with fierce expressions. Standing in line politely was a sad habit from a past life. The Imperial Knight’s turn came without difficulty. The white, cloudy porridge was poured into the bowl. With the notorious flatbread in his other hand, Worm wandered to find a place to eat and found it.

“Here it is, lying around.”

It was a wine barrel that had been full of wine until recently. The memory of a soldier peering into the empty barrel with lingering affection was still fresh. It had likely been moved to the bailey both for reuse and to cut off the obsession.

Worm sat on the barrel. The faint scent of wine seemed to mask the stench of death. He tore the flatbread with all his strength and dipped it into the bowl. He detected something small mixed in the porridge. Rolling it on his tongue, he realized what it was.

“...Fish? Ha, this is fish powder.”

The powdered ingredient mixed in the porridge was ground fish. Incidents over the distribution of food, such as stabbings, were not uncommon, though not funny. The result of ensuring fairness was this state. He quietly ate, using the bread to scoop up the last bit of porridge. Throwing the bread crumbs into his mouth, Worm finished his meal.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he looked around. Some soldiers sprawled out, others curled up, but all fell asleep as if they had fainted after finishing their meals. The Imperial Knight, feeling full, was no exception. The desire for sleep followed the satisfaction of hunger. Leaning against the barrel, Worm wrapped himself in his coat and slowly drifted off to sleep, using the familiar screams and cries as a grotesque lullaby.