Chapter 866: Forward, Backward

"What a marvelous sight..."

Standing atop the raised platform, Aurier looked out into the distance. The deep darkness was being gradually set alight, and the unbroken spread of firelight outlined a sea, making even the dawn seem pitifully small.

Across the earth below, the scene shifted without cease. Though he stood on nothing more than a crudely built temporary platform, Aurier felt as if slaughter and clashing steel had become a score, as if flame and smoke had formed the backdrop of a stage, and those dancers... those Kingdom soldiers who had all but lost reason, fear, and even death itself... were offering up a delicate and exquisite performance with everything they had.

That dance spoke of death, fearlessness, and victory. Even Aurier, who had grown up steeped in the arts, found himself deeply enthralled by it.

Art, after all, could only truly reveal itself in the maddest of tidal waves.

"As expected of you, Envoy. This is Ancient Magic, isn’t it? How powerful, how wondrous." Snapping himself away from that magnificent artistic tableau for the moment, Aurier offered his praise with complete sincerity.

Presumably, on the continent as it existed now, only the ancient demonfolk left behind from that era could still use something like Ancient Magic, which had long since vanished.

Demonfolk were not known for skill in magic, but the royal line among them secretly carried some kind of powerful Ancient Magic... that legend—or rather, his intelligence work—had proved quite accurate after all.

"Your Highness flatters me. As I said before, I merely offered Your Highness a little confidence. The one who truly made all this happen was still you."

The Witch of Repentance had already stepped back behind Aurier, smiling softly as she spoke.

"My magic can only serve as support."

"Haha, a powerful spell that can create an undead army, and you call that support? That’s humble to the point of absurdity."

As Aurier said this, his brows suddenly lifted.

"But a magic this powerful... it doesn’t have some kind of side effect, does it?"

"Is Your Highness worried about your own soldiers?"

"Hmph. Great undertakings are never constrained by trifles. If our strategic objective can be achieved, then those commoners will have died where they should. The nation will remember them."

Aurier clasped his hands behind his back. At this moment, what filled his breast was no longer the small victory of this single war, but the greater contest between the Kingdom and the Empire as a whole. And from that broader perspective, if tonight’s gains were to tilt the entire strategic situation in the Kingdom’s favor, then the results they achieved here still needed to be greater.

"Your magic seems to cover a terrifyingly wide range, Envoy. If it means using this many soldiers to perish together with the enemy... then I think the losses would be far too massive."

"Rest easy, Your Highness. This magic is not as terrible as you imagine. It is not some evil necromancy, nor is it a blessing from an Evil God. The nature of Ancient Magic is to pry at rules on a limited scale, and the rule it has pried open is only one—dance, nothing more."

The Witch of Repentance stepped forward, and that faint fragrant breeze enveloped Aurier once again, softening his heart—normally solid as stone—by just a little.

"Dance, dance, dance without end. Just like putting on the red dancing shoes from a fairy tale, so that even if bones break, even if organs rupture, even if death itself comes, the dance will not stop... that is all it does.

"But Your Highness, dancing itself does not harm a person. Do you understand?"

She drew closer and closer, until by the time she said Do you understand?, she was almost pressed against Aurier’s body.

Even through the broad black robe, Aurier could still feel that astonishing softness. He already had a beautiful wife and many lovers, yet faced with this much physical contact from the Witch of Repentance—contact that did not even truly count as overstepping—his heartbeat accelerated all over again.

What was wrong with him? Why was it that every time he came even slightly close to this envoy, he felt some strange, forbidden thrill?

It was practically like seducing a woman and finding out she was some blood relative... no, even more stimulating than that. Was it because they were of different races?

"Ahem... I see. I understand now."

Aurier coughed twice, sweeping away the inappropriate thoughts in his head.

"So what you mean is that those soldiers are just like soldiers going to war normally. This magic itself does not inflict any negative harm on them. What harms them is still the war and slaughter itself?"

"How clever. As expected of Your Highness."

"Then this Ancient Magic is even more terrifying than I imagined. To create an army comparable to a legion of living corpses without paying too high a price... in terms of cost-effectiveness, it far surpasses those Evil Gods and their so-called 'equivalent exchange,'" Aurier said with feeling.

"Because I am not an Evil God. I am Your Highness’s ally."

The Witch of Repentance brushed a hand lightly over Aurier’s cheek. Beneath her hood, her eyes flashed with a sharp gleam Aurier could not see.

"The Evil Gods speak of 'equivalent exchange,' but in truth they covet your soul. We are different. We are on the same boat as Your Highness. Our interests are aligned, our direction is the same, and between us there is no need for suspicion or wariness. That is why our help is the most sincere."

"Is that so..."

Aurier thought of the current state of the demonfolk, and privately concluded that conditions in the Abyss truly were not good. The demonfolk had likely coveted the Empire’s lands for who knew how long. With such a splendid opportunity before them, they would certainly bring out everything they had in reserve.

"Then it seems our shared wish will soon be fulfilled."

Smiling, Aurier patted the Witch of Repentance’s soft hand—so much like that of a human girl—and raised his hand to look even farther out.

Beneath the fortress’s solid walls, the Empire’s soldiers were making one futile stand after another, but under the assault of this army empowered by Ancient Magic, they were still falling back step by step in the end.

And one must not forget that at the very front of the fortress, half of the Kingdom’s army was still pressing the attack. Which meant that if there were the slightest gap in the Empire’s defenses on either side, what awaited them would be the collapse of the whole.

And the outcome after such a collapse...

"Annihilation."

That word surfaced in Aurier’s mind, and the thought of it alone filled him with excitement.

"Still, something’s strange. Why is the imperial banner of the Empress still flying above the wall? Surely by this point, that woman should already be thinking of withdrawing."

Seeing that gold, majestic standard still fluttering above the far wall, Aurier felt a trace of surprise. By his estimate, once that woman had realized Notasia Fortress could absolutely no longer be defended, she should have withdrawn at once.

After all, as Emperor of the Empire, her safety mattered a thousand times more than this fortress. Even if she herself were naïve enough to refuse to leave, her ministers should have forced her to.

"Could it be she already ran, and only left her banner here to steady morale?"

Aurier made what he felt was a fairly reliable guess, but his habitual caution still led him to take a telescope from one of his attendants.

"Hm?"

Within the round tube of the telescope, Aurier saw with perfect clarity the silver-white figure standing on the wall. She had not even used magic to conceal herself, but stood there openly beneath the banner, in the most conspicuous place imaginable.

As if sensing that she was being watched, the Empress of the Empire suddenly turned and cast an ice-cold gaze in this direction.

"She really didn’t leave?"

That look sent a chill through him, and Aurier hurriedly lowered the telescope. Yet the questions in his mind only tangled together more and more like a ball of thread, impossible to unravel.

"At a time like this, and she still hasn’t left? Is she not afraid that once the fortress falls, she’ll never get away at all? Or does she still have some way to break the situation? No, no, no. Even if Muen Campbell arrived leading a hundred thousand troops, it would still take at least three days. She cannot hold out until that moment.

"If none of those guesses are right, then could it be..."

Faintly, Aurier felt as though he had grasped the end of the thread. His eyes grew brighter and brighter.

"Could it be she doesn’t want to stay—but simply can’t leave?"

Thinking it through carefully, Notasia Fortress was effectively under airtight siege at present. If that woman wanted to escape, she had only two paths.

One was to force her way out by her own strength. But there were so many powerful figures on his side watching, and to guard against accidents, he had brought most of those powerhouses to the rear. Even with the Empire’s authority amplifying her, that path offered her very little hope of success.

The other... was to use a secret tunnel prepared in advance.

Generally speaking, whether among the Kingdom’s nobility or the Empire’s, it was common practice to construct hidden escape passages in one’s fortress or castle.

But given the arrogance and conceit of those imperial fools, there was a very high chance that that woman, as Emperor of the Empire... had never prepared a retreat route in advance.

Perhaps in her eyes, Notasia Fortress was impregnable. There was simply no possibility it could be breached, much less encircled. She had never needed something like a secret tunnel as a fallback.

So now...

"This isn’t just about 'annihilation' anymore..."

Aurier grew more and more excited. Even his breathing suddenly turned heavier.

"There’s even a chance that..."

They might capture the Emperor of the Empire!

Since the rise of the Empire, since the Kingdom had been suppressed step by step and its territories eaten away piece by piece... not a single person had achieved such a feat in all those hundreds of years.

And if he accomplished this, not only would the Kingdom’s humiliation of the past century be washed away completely, but when the time came for him to inherit that throne, no one would dare question him ever again!

He would become the greatest... king in the entire history of the Kingdom!

Boom!

As if to match the feverish fantasy in his heart, a tremendous roar split the night sky, and even the ground trembled faintly.

Aurier came back to himself and discovered that another towering wall of ice had risen straight out of the earth, blocking the Kingdom army’s advance.

"So she’s using authority by force again?"

Far from angering him, the obstructed assault only made him even more excited. That wall of ice would do no more than delay the Kingdom’s army for a short while. It was utterly useless—but it proved that woman had truly begun to panic.

"Go ahead, use it. Use it. With both your routes sealed off, the more you exhaust your own strength doing such meaningless things, the easier it will be for me to capture you alive. You’re far too beautiful for me to want to kill you."

Thinking back to that breathtaking glimpse of her exquisite profile just now, and then imagining that lofty Empress of the Empire kneeling before him not long from now, Aurier felt every drop of blood in his body boiling, screaming.

Even that demonfolk female envoy at his side who had been subtly teasing him... no longer seemed all that enticing.

...

...

"Are you certain you want to choose this road? Just like the Kingdom’s surprise attack, this is a third path that would never appear in any conventional prediction. But its chances of success are simply too slim—so slim it can scarcely be called a path at all... and it’s dangerous."

Anna still stood leaning in the darkness, silently watching Count Tern depart.

"Isn’t a road something you walk into being?"

Having finished explaining her plan, Celicia still looked as cold as ever, her eyes like frozen rivers. Only the fingers tapping ceaselessly against the edge of the wall revealed that she had still not stopped calculating something.

"In truth, I also have Aurier to thank for giving me a road to take. That is why I made this choice."

"I see..."

A look of understanding appeared on Anna’s face, and she covered her mouth with a laugh.

"As expected of Your Majesty. How reckless."

"That sort of recklessness, I learned from that man. You of all people should understand that."

"So you got infected with yellow-haired germs too?"

"I only hope I can catch some of his luck at surviving."

At last Celicia stopped the calculations that could never possibly yield an exact answer, and bent forward to look down at the mass of soldiers below the wall.

"As their leader, to be so cruel to them... I hope they will not hate me for it."

"Are you praying to the Goddess?"

"No."

The Emperor of the Empire answered with solemn gravity:

"I am praying to myself."

...

...

"That’s... the Empress’s ice wall!"

Beck’s eyes widened as he watched the wall of ice suddenly rise before him and cut off the enemy’s advance. At the same time, all ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) strength seemed to drain from his body, and he collapsed limply to the ground.

That endless charge and slaughter, longer than anything he had ever endured in his life, had already left him utterly exhausted. If not for the single breath of will keeping him going, he might have dropped halfway through long ago.

"Holy shit, Her Majesty used authority again—long live the Empress! Long live the Empress!"

Beside him, however, One-Eye still looked remarkably full of energy, even though he had cut down far more Kingdom soldiers than Beck had.

"How are you built like an ox..."

Beck muttered as he pushed himself up, about to say something more—only to see One-Eye suddenly collapse as well, cold sweat streaming from his forehead, clearly in severe pain.

"One-Eye!"

Beck scrambled over on hands and knees.

"You okay?!"

"I’m... I’m fine."

One-Eye shook his head and forced out an ugly smile.

"It’s just the wound in my leg... got a little worse..."

"The wound..."

Beck lowered his eyes and saw that the hastily bandaged arrow wound on One-Eye’s calf had started bleeding heavily again, nearly soaking the entire bandage through red. It was only because One-Eye’s willpower was so astonishing that he had managed to keep killing enemies at all. Otherwise, forget fighting—he probably would not even have been able to walk.

"Don’t move. I’ll carry you back. The horn for rotation just sounded, so it looks like the situation has stabilized for now. I’ll take you to a doctor."

Beck crouched and hoisted One-Eye onto his back in one motion. This burly-looking old soldier was not actually very heavy, and after having rested just a little, Beck found he could run quite fast.

"You little brat... you actually didn’t get hurt. Lucky bastard."

"I’m smart. Who charges forward without thinking like you do?"

"Hey, that’s bullshit. As far as arithmetic under a hundred goes, One-Eye’s never lost to anybody. Want to test me?"

"Shut up. Arithmetic learned at a gambling table proves absolutely nothing."

Gritting his teeth, Beck hurried along with One-Eye and soon rejoined the main body of troops also retreating at the sound of the horn.

Following the banners, Beck made his way back to his unit’s camp. After looking around once, he failed to find any medics, and only saw Baron Derik, the officer in command of them, ordering everyone to assemble.

"Go to formation first. I’m fine."

One-Eye slapped Beck lightly.

"Really?"

"The hell, my leg’s hurt, not my chest or my head. I’m not that easy to kill yet!"

One-Eye bared his teeth.

"But if you miss assembly time, that bastard Derik can yell you to death with that big mouth of his."

"Oh... right."

The moment he thought of Baron Derik’s lion roar, Beck shuddered and hurried over to the assembly point.

After setting One-Eye down, Beck craned his neck and looked ahead—and his eyes suddenly lit up.

Because in front of the formation, supplies were being carried out crate after crate and piled in an open space like a small mountain, including huge amounts of food.

Normally, Beck collected supplies from the quartermaster in fixed amounts at fixed times. When had he ever seen this much bread and dried meat at once?

They had just come through a major battle, and the smell immediately stirred his appetite.

Gulp...

"Pathetic."

"Heh heh..."

One-Eye nudged Beck lightly with an elbow. Beck did not get annoyed. He just gave a stupid little laugh.

"Everybody’s here, right."

Not long afterward, Baron Derik came to the front of the formation and stood on slightly higher ground, sweeping his eyes across the ranks, now reduced by at least a third.

He said nothing extra. In a voice much calmer and gentler than usual, he pointed at the mountain of supplies behind him and said:

"Two choices."

"First: come collect one day’s worth of bread, dried meat, and water. Also the best portable weapons—magical repeating crossbows, alchemical bombs, magitech soft armor... remember this well. Do not take too much. It must be easy to move with."

"Second: after those who choose the first option have collected theirs, everything left over may be taken freely by the rest of you. Take as much as you want."

"No limit on what’s left over?"

"That’s right."

Derik raised his eyes toward the young man who had lifted a hand to ask and nodded.

"No limit at all."

"That generous, huh? Then who’d pick the first one..."

Beck did the math in an instant. The supplies laid out before them were enough for the whole unit to last more than half a month. Those who chose the first option could only take one day’s worth, while those who chose the second could take everything remaining...

Which one was the better deal was obvious at a glance.

"Right?"

Beck also jabbed his elbow back at One-Eye behind him.

"..."

"One-Eye? What, are you stunned by all this dried meat too? Weren’t you supposed to be worldly? Why do you look like some country bumpkin?"

Getting no answer, Beck instinctively turned around—and casually mocked One-Eye again as he did.

But what he saw was not a face pretending to be angry over Beck’s teasing...

It was a face with every muscle drawn taut, completely grave.

One-Eye stared fixedly at those supplies, as if he had already understood something. Some intensely complicated emotion began spreading through his one remaining eye.

"Go," One-Eye suddenly said.

"Huh?"

"Go collect supplies. One day’s worth."

"Why?"

"No reason why. Just go!"

One-Eye shoved Beck so hard he staggered, while he himself did not move at all.

"The hell is wrong with you now..."

Beck grumbled in annoyance, but out of trust in One-Eye, he still did as he was told and went forward to collect the very disadvantageous one-day ration.

"Hm?"

But halfway there, Beck’s steps suddenly faltered.

He was clever. He had gone to a church school once. He could read and write. More importantly, by stealing lessons, he had picked up a respectable bit of swordsmanship.

And it was precisely because of that cleverness and sharp observation that halfway forward, Beck suddenly realized...

The ones going to collect the one-day ration were all strong, healthy, elite soldiers reeking of blood, but carrying no injuries severe enough to affect their mobility.

And the ones left behind...

Beck turned around and saw that One-Eye, with his injured leg, somehow seemed several inches shorter now, standing without the slightest incongruity among a crowd of battered wounded soldiers, looking at him calmly.