Chapter 74
To General Arthur,
The Demon King is apparently only pretending to move south this time; it doesn’t seem like he intends to make any real moves.
If we can eliminate four or five more high-ranking Marauders, we might gain some breathing room here.
I should be able to leave my post for about half an hour.
I’ll make time to come down to Valleland in two weeks.
We’ll meet then.
—
As Arthur read the letter, he could almost hear the light and carefree tone of its sender. The handwriting was so casual it was almost illegible, with many parts written so hastily that anyone unfamiliar with Sword Saint Rex’s letters would have struggled to decipher it.
Folding the short letter twice to compact it, Arthur flicked his finger, and the letter vanished instantly in flames, turning to ashes.
It was essential that the enemy not discover Rex would arrive in Valleland two weeks from now. While unlikely, this precaution was taken to prevent any leaks. The Grand Marshals would flee rather than confront Rex if they learned about his arrival.
No, they must not be allowed to escape.
All four Grand Marshals on the battlefield had to die—every single one of them.
It was the least he could do to honor the brave subordinates who had followed his orders and fallen in battle.
Arthur’s left arm throbbed faintly.
He swept the ashes onto the floor and stepped outside before quietly extinguishing the lamp. An unusually deep and heavy darkness enveloped the general’s tent much earlier than usual.
It had been so long since he’d slept soundly that he couldn’t even remember the last time.
—
“There’s a report of Add deserting.”
“Yes.”
Two days later, I finally delivered the news about Add’s desertion. There wasn’t a particular reason for waiting until morning; it wasn’t because of any grand strategy but more out of fear that Arthur might track down and kill Add.
Not that I cared whether he lived or died…
But reporting his desertion to Arthur would still weigh heavily on me. Arthur would undoubtedly deal with the deserter using military discipline—especially since the penalty for desertion during wartime was death.
…If Add were to die because of me exposing him, the guilt would stick with me.
And with my bed already uncomfortable enough, I didn’t need any more sleepless nights.
“Add deserted last night. When did you find out?”
“As soon as it happened.”
“Then why are you reporting it now?”
“Didn’t want to wake you while you were sleeping.”
For everyone, but especially for Mages, rest and sleep are just as vital as rigorous study and training. Two individuals undergoing the same training might differ greatly based on how well-rested they are—those who maintain clear and refreshed minds versus those who abuse their brains through daily sleepless nights.
Disturbing a Mage’s rest diminishes the quality of their magic. So unless it’s an emergency, you should never wake a sleeping Mage.
…At least, that was the excuse I gave Arthur when he glared at me.
“Apparently that’s what I was taught.”
Arthur’s gaze didn’t soften.
“Withholding knowledge of desertion is the same as aiding the deserter.”
…Was this guy suggesting he’d kill me?
I stayed silent and merely stared at him.
“Tch.”
Arthur pulled on his wine-colored robe with rough movements, brushing his sharp glare away. His robe bore stains of mud from prior battles, but there was no indication he planned to change into a fresh one.
“Come along. I’ll brief you on the plan I previously explained.”
Pulling his jet-black hair back carelessly, Arthur stepped out of the tent with Gridia and me in tow.
It was only about nine in the morning, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. Yesterday’s fleeting break in the clouds gave way once more to skies completely covered in darkness.
We passed through the officers’ camp and headed toward the Achilipthus Forest. The further we got from the battlefield, the lighter our shoulders felt. The mud wasn’t contaminated with poison or blood, and some flowers were even beginning to bloom among the clumps of mud.
Soon, we came across a hill crowned by an enormous living tree—neither rotting nor dead.
It felt distinctly different from the hill where Add had escaped the previous night.
“Could we take a break?”
I carefully asked as the hill loomed ahead.
“No.”
The answer was so decisive that asking why was out of the question.
“…”
With the urge to curse suppressed, I began climbing the hill at a steep incline. My breath became short and my vision blurred. The two people ahead glanced back at my sluggish pace and furrowed their brows as I struggled uphill.
“What’s taking so long?”
“Don’t… tell me what to do…”
Through my hoarse voice, I managed a reply.
This would’ve been the perfect moment to let loose if I didn’t know what kind of person Arthur was.
“…”
Arthur and Gridia, who had marched straight ahead, exchanged a glance as if to say “What’s happening?” before ascending the hill first.
It took them less than five minutes to climb to the top due to their straight path, but it took me a full twenty minutes. That is, twenty minutes minus a ten-minute rest halfway through.
“Phew… Damn…”
At the top of the hill stood a small hut made of wood, looking as if it had just been finished, with not a single crack in sight. I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
With no one waiting outside, it was clear Arthur and Gridia were inside.
“You came.”
A bright lamp illuminated the interior of the hut. Its light cast a shadow across Arthur’s face as he greeted me with a sigh.
The wall featured a large map of Valleland, detailing the terrain with various shapes drawn on it using a quill pen, labeled with terms like “High-ranking Marauder,” “Archer Variant Group,” and “Grand Marshal Encampment.”
“You’re late.”
Inside the tiny hut were Arthur, Gridia, Rex, Lir, and Alter.
“Here.”
Lir handed me a cup of cold water, which she had likely prepared for me before I even arrived.
I barely had time to appreciate her thoughtful gesture before bringing the cup to my mouth.
I didn’t exactly feel revived… My arms and legs were still aching, but at least I no longer felt like I might die.
“Sit. We’re running out of time.”
Lir gently pulled at my arm drinking the water, guiding me to a chair. Alter nodded in acknowledgment and Rex stood up to salute.
I saluted briefly with my free hand and followed Lir’s direction toward a seat.
“There, sit here.”
She even emphasized with her finger that I should sit to her left.
It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t want to sit next to someone she didn’t know well.
Given her personality, this wasn’t strange at all, especially since her right side was occupied by Alter.
I took the seat she indicated.
“Everything discussed here is classified. No one is allowed to repeat what happens in this hut after leaving.”
As soon as everyone was seated, Arthur adjusted the lamplight to focus on himself and the map.
Despite my reluctance to admit it, Arthur, illuminated directly by the lamp, was quite handsome. His deep-set eyes and neatly combed back black hair retained their elegance despite days without a proper wash.
…I had shared a tent with this man for several days, yet never scrutinized his face this closely.
“Agree and nod if you understand.”
Though his heavy dark circles and slightly raspy voice didn’t inspire confidence, we couldn’t help but somberly nod our heads in agreement.
Who would dare oppose Arthur’s serious warning by saying, “I’ll go around telling everyone anyway”?
…In fact, regardless of who was seated here, no sane person would shake their head in such a tense atmosphere.
“Great. I’ll explain our upcoming ‘Harvest’ operation two weeks from now.”
Arthur picked up the quill pen lying on the desk and drew four triangles on the far-right side of the map.
“The enemy has four Grand Marshals: Maltiel, Raguel, Ariel, and Michael.”
This time, he moved the quill to the far-left side of the map, drawing two circles.
“And our army has two forces capable of fighting the Grand Marshals one-on-one: me and Gridia.”
Alter, an 8th Tier Mage and former master of the Magic Tower, was present, but it was clear he wasn’t at the level to face a Grand Marshal on equal footing.
“We’re severely short of General-class forces. Our army keeps losing soldiers while these Marauders are using our fallen comrades to increase the ranks of their variants.”
As he had said, the situation was overwhelmingly unfavorable, and defeat was almost certain.
“If we force our way into the enemy lines and try to fight, our lack of General-class forces seals our loss. But prolonging the fight won’t change anything, since our soldiers will continue decreasing while the enemy will only increase.”
“Shouldn’t we have one more General-level force?”
Gridia raised her hand curiously, her eyes turning toward me for some reason.
“…Me?”
Are you suggesting that I’m on par with that guy standing over there? Capable of fighting a Grand Marshal one-on-one?
Lady Holy Maiden, it sounds like you’ve finally lost your mind after all these years of war.
“Bin is excluded. His current power may not be too far behind compared to ours, but his potential far surpasses ours. If he gets injured battling a Grand Marshal, it would be a great loss for the continent.”
…What is the basis for their judgment of me as General-class?
I haven’t even finished reading 80 pages of ‘The Fundamentals of Intermediate Magic’ yet. ‘A Study of Light Magic: Its History and Understanding’ is barely on its second chapter.
“Heh…”
I couldn’t reveal my true lack of skill at this point, so I laughed nervously to myself. This was ridiculous.
