The roar of the battlefield echoes all around. Soldiers bleeding, soldiers wielding swords, soldiers holding arrows and staffs—no one is silent, all shouting with fervor.
“Move forward! One of the enemy Grand Marshals is still recovering! We have three Generals! This is our chance! Push forward! Risk your lives! Secure your survival!”
Even the officers at the rear, observing the battle situation, drew the weapons from their waists and charged into the front lines. The soldiers weren’t the only ones whose blood was boiling.
An officer who could have just given orders from the rear without reproach fearlessly rushed to the front. This sight further boosted the morale of the troops. Regardless of rank or race, everyone here was a remarkable hero united to protect the continent.
“Tch.”
Arthur held a small defensive sword and clicked his tongue as he watched the second lieutenant charge into the battlefield. While it’s true that there’s no more effective tactic than a commander taking the lead to rally the soldiers’ morale, Arthur, an efficiency-driven individual, didn’t entirely approve of the situation.
The flowers of blood blossom in the excessively heated battlefield. Red and green colors alternated as they pushed against each other’s formations.
The soldiers, engulfed in the heat of battle, gradually transformed into berserkers. Carefully planned formations began to crumble due to the heightened excitement and madness of individuals.
And if the commanders in the front lines are injured, who will give orders? Already short on manpower, this situation feels like a waste of brainpower when magic isn’t needed.
“Leave the command to me.”
Gridia quickly noticed the distortion in Arthur’s face as he observed the battle and spoke up swiftly.
Arthur didn’t bother to thank Gridia. He merely gave her a skeptical glance, to which Gridia responded by loudly commanding the troops.
“Right flank infantry! You’re too far from the main force! Maintain your composure! Injured soldiers, raise your left hand high, and I’ll heal you immediately! Elf archers, please focus more on providing additional bombardment rather than just sniping the front line! Thank you!”
A delicate voice descended onto the battlefield, driven mad by the chaos of war. Her voice carried an indescribable power. Was this what people typically referred to as ‘holy energy’? Soldiers on the verge of being consumed by the madness of battle regained their sense of calm for an instant and slowly resumed their formation, moving forward.
“For Estellara!”
One of the soldiers roared loudly in response to the Holy Maiden’s commands. Holy Maiden Gridia also shouted “For Estellara!” loudly in response to their roar.
“…Not bad, considering.”
“I’ve learned a few tricks over the shoulder of the best.”
Gridia seemed to breathe a slight sigh of relief, feeling that Arthur’s brain wouldn’t need to be overworked further.
“Stay steady! We have a Holy Maiden with us! Lady Astraea is here with us!”
The soldiers who heard Gridia’s voice maintained a disciplined formation that was hard to believe they had been possessed by the ecstasy and madness of battle moments before. They were now assessing not only their immediate enemies but also where their comrades stood and what was needed, with clear judgment.
“…I commend the sight of this. With eyes and hearts more sacred than ever, you cleanse the blood off us. Ah, you are undoubtedly Astraea’s messengers…”
All thanks to Gridia.
She closed her eyes and placed her hands together to recite a prayer.
If Bin had been watching, he might have thought of the phrase “Grace of Purification.” In the game, it was known as the ultimate technique for removing all status abnormalities.
It not only cured simple conditions like fear, silence, or dizziness but also severe injuries like poisoning, bleeding, and fractures.
A bright aura that rivaled the sun enveloped the Holy Maiden’s back. Poison that had penetrated through armor and broken bones began to heal in an instant.
There was some pain as the bones were pieced together, tearing muscles, and the process of detoxification making the blood boil, but the soldiers on this battlefield weren’t prone to whining over such levels of pain.
A technique of high difficulty, which would normally be hard to use even on a single target, was now being effortlessly applied by Gridia to everyone on the battlefield.
Her skills were worthy of her title as a Holy Maiden, but there was no one marveling at her prowess. They had seen it daily, after all.
“…You pieces of filth!“
BOOM!
A scream-like roar accompanies another massive explosion, descending on the battlefield.
A massive arrow-point raced towards Bin at supersonic speed. Again, the “Guardian’s Favor” activated.
A blue barrier instantly enveloped the young man’s body, followed shortly by a sonic boom that covered his frail frame. His ears were stuffed and his head dizzy.
The Grand Marshal Ariel, who used the giant arrows, must have mostly recovered his injuries.
“…An assassination at that speed is something I cannot react to and block! I apologize!”
Gridia shouted politely.
…Apparently maintaining her image as a Holy Maiden in front of all these people, Bin thought.
Thanks to Gridia’s help, the front line of battle was advancing more steadily. With quick healing, soldiers could take on aggressive tactics they normally wouldn’t dare, causing the allied forces to radiate three to four times their usual combat strength.
“Damn it…”
The Grand Marshal Raguel, with his gigantic wings, had soared high into the sky, observing the battlefield. Bin, though not flying like the monstrous creature, could see that the situation had quickly shifted against them.
Thanks to Bell and Gridia, who had intercepted all the enemy’s air and ground forces without any losses and boosted the soldiers’ combat power several times.
“Malteel, Michael! Will you just stand and watch?”
The Grand Marshal Raguel, soaring through the blue sky, shouted the names of the two Grand Marshals still unseen on the field.
“Tch.”
At that moment, Bin heard the sound of a tongue clicking, coming from a direction he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was a chilling, creepy sound, eerily familiar from a previous experience.
Red skin, pitch-black eyes. Though not as large as Raguel’s, still quite massive wings, and grotesquely long nails.
Grand Marshal Malteel appeared beyond a barren hill far off in the distance. His slow, calm steps were full of ease, but annoyance was evident on his face.
The moment Malteel appeared, the ground, which had been rigid, began to tremble again. What exactly the marauders were hiding so heavily in this wretched ground was unknown, but they frequently brought forth something to disorient the allied forces.
Huge… insect-like mutants. The most noticeable among them was a creature resembling a giant centipede, which caused Bin to involuntarily retch when he noticed that it had attached someone’s arm as a substitute leg.
“…Truly, things have twisted this far.”
Not far from Malteel, Michael finally revealed his face on the battlefield.
“It was always expected that three Generals would simultaneously appear on the front line. If the battle continues this way, those enemies will eventually starve to death anyway. It was necessary for them to make such an audacious move once.”
Malteel spoke calmly and rationally. It seemed they anticipated that the Continental Alliance might one day muster their spirits and counterattack.
“Wouldn’t it be better to let the soldiers retreat instead of engaging in such a front-on confrontation with their desperate struggle?”
Michael seemed displeased with Malteel’s decision. Encouraging the enemy’s desperate fight wasn’t a preferred tactic for the marauders.
“If we withdraw the soldiers, the pressure we’ve built up so far will loosen. If the pressure loosens, Bin might have the chance to escape. We cannot retreat at any cost in this battle, even if we use all our Grand Marshals.”
“…The most rational judgment seems to be joining in their desperation. Tactical depth is indeed profound.”
Michael, after deep contemplation upon hearing Malteel’s words, gave a slight nod and murmured.
“If our ultimate goal was to conquer this land, I too would have withdrawn the soldiers in this situation. But our ultimate goal is not exactly that, is it.”
Malteel slowly turned his head with a sarcastic smile.
At the end of that disconcerting smile stood Bin.
The young man felt as if a sharp blade had grazed his neck.
Instinctively, his hand went to his thin neck to check if anything was wrong. Rex, who was guarding by his side, also seemed to sense the same and let out a low sigh, adjusting his stance.
“…All four Grand Marshals confirmed by sight.”
As soon as Gridia identified the silhouette beyond the slope as Michael, she reported it to Bell.
“Confirmed.”
Bell raised his palm high and quietly mumbled a few incantations. Soon, a small black dot coalesced on his hand and shot up into the sky.
This small black dot soared into the cloudless blue sky without pause.
WHOOSH!
A massive wave of heat and intense air pressure overwhelmed the area.
The blue sky was instantly painted crimson in a single flash.
Lifting his head, Bin looked for the source of this tremendous heat and light.
He saw a massive meteor made entirely of flames.
‘Over the past two weeks, Bell has mostly been responsible for suppressing the Grand Marshals on the battlefield. The mana left within him probably amounts to only about one-tenth of what he usually has.’
And even that was more than enough.
Bell Arteur was unmistakably the strongest mage on the continent.
His ability to contain mana must surely be incomparably vast. Even if he only had one-tenth his usual mana, it would far surpass that of any ordinary mage.
That was why Bell Arteur was a General.
The enormous flames were proof of this felt through Bin’s skin.
“…Michael.”
“I know.”
Looking up at the enormous fiery meteor that covered the sky, Michael and Malteel exchanged a brief conversation.
Michael’s finger then pointed to the crimson meteor falling towards them,
and the earth began to tremble.
Blobs of flesh buried in the hardened mud rose into the air at Michael’s command. Mutated forms, dripping with green blood, scattered bodies, red and blue blood—
all the corpses present on the battlefield rose like a towering wave and collided with the falling crimson meteor.
The sky turned a deep red, pouring down a rain of blood and fire.
*
The northern frontline.
A man dressed in pristine white robes stood quietly on the high and thick wall, gazing at the southern sky while the dry wind swept by.
His auburn hair, leather coat, white robes, and the slender sword on his hip clearly identified him.
The short auburn hair danced lightly in the wind, with deep eyes reflecting the scarlet hue.
As if waiting for this moment, the man pulled out a throwing dagger from inside his coat and held it in his hand.
“Commander?”
A soldier guarding nearby called out to the man who suddenly drew a dagger from inside his coat.
“Why the dagger suddenly…”
BOOM!
The sound of tearing wind and shaking walls accompanied the man’s blade extending from his leather-coated hand.
A sound typically heard during the explosion of a powder magazine followed. The snow piled on the trees was scattered to the ground by the enormous impact, and the sleeves of the leather coat were dyed red from the friction with the air.
The dagger extended beyond what the other soldiers guarding alongside could see, far over the horizon buried under the snow.
At the end of the dagger’s reach stood a high-ranking marauder tasked with “Sword Saint Surveillance,” though no one on the walls was aware of it.
“Section leader! Make sure every soldier on the wall descends below, none left behind.”
“Commander, you mean even the sentries?”
“I need a running start.”
“…Sir?”
The soldiers on the frost-covered wall looked confused.
“Other generals will explain the details.”
Though it was a baffling order, the section leader, hearing the added sentence, quickly ran to communicate the man’s directive.
Soldiers immediately climbed down the walls using ladders or steps. Doubts about the man’s words might’ve lingered, but no one dared to disobey his command.
He slowly walked to the end of the now empty wall.
The auburn hair danced in the wind.
Like sprinters preparing for a race, he raised his hands to the ground, lifting his heels.
“…Huff.”
A deep breath.
In the next moment, the ground he had been standing on shattered into pieces. The wall swayed as if struck directly by a giant catapult, and frost-covered bricks flew high into the sky.
He darted straight ahead across the empty wall as if it were an athletic track, surpassing the speed of sound. The intense sonic boom filled the surroundings.
THUMP!
Reaching the end of the wall, the man powerfully kicked off the ground again.
With an enormous shockwave, his body shot forward, moving at a speed incomparable to cannonballs or bullets.
The end of the wall could not withstand the recoil, crumbling down.
He soared skyward into the frosty air.
