30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue - Chapter 149

WeTried Translations x Flame Comics

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

Chapter 149: Waiting for Winter (3)

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* * *

Eight days. Nineteen hours. And twenty-three minutes.

That was how long it had taken to break one Grand Count’s army, launching ambush after ambush, then withdrawing again to keep casualties on both sides to a minimum.

It had not been easy. The injuries Ivan suffered were no small matter either. A knight’s charge was like artillery fire. By the time you saw it and reacted, it was already too late.

“I can’t believe we’re both human.”

Ivan rode at the front, half-asleep. Every muscle in his body tore and healed over and over, screaming in pain, while his overworked ligaments had swollen red and were nearly at their breaking point.

If he lost consciousness, he might sleep for days. He had to stay awake somehow. It wasn’t time to sleep yet.

“Is he even alive?”

“Shh. Be quiet. He’s asleep.”

How had he fought again? In the first ambush, Ivan had swiftly cut down the cavalry commander. Then he struck the confused command structure, immediately turned his horse, and fled with the knights.

Once the pursuers caught up, he slipped into the forest and picked them off one by one. Half the barons’ knights had died there.

The soldiers...

The soldiers had survived in greater numbers. That was fortunate. They held weapons now, so they were soldiers, but put plows or pitchforks in those hands and they would be farmers.

That was the problem with civil war. A loss of troops directly became a loss of industrial labor.

If both sides were wiped out together, it meant a catastrophic decline in the population the land could support. Even if they were enemies, as many regular troops as possible had to be kept alive and sent home.

It was Tilles’s only faint hope of survival.

The rebel leaders had to be cut out precisely and carefully, like a craftsman’s delicate work.

“Even if we reach Saint Matilene, we’ll have only around sixty cavalrymen. Fewer, once we account for stragglers.”

“I know.”

“Do you think we have a chance? They say Count Grandmartel’s army exceeds thirty thousand.”

“Didn’t that man say it? If we want to give up, we should lay down our weapons and live as farmers.”

Ivan felt a strange contradiction.

To save as many people as possible. To save this country. Under such lofty pretenses, he was leading soldiers to their deaths.

How absurd it was to sacrifice one person’s life to save another. Yet back then, it had been an ordinary thing.

Too many good people had died. War always took the good first.

He, too, had been one of those who walked toward certain death at another person’s command. Most of the time, that was what he did.

At the former king’s command, he had charged at the Seven Dragon Generals. The former king and all his seniors had died in that battle.

Whenever the Hero wanted it, Ivan opened a path. Many Annihilation Unit agents had lost their lives in the process.

When the princess tearfully begged him, he headed for the Seven Dragon Generals’ royal residence. After that day, the Annihilation Unit no longer existed.

He had heard too many orders telling people to lay down their lives for the greater good. Yet now he was the one saying those words. What a ridiculous, pathetic thing. He had no right to do so.

Stirring people up and driving them toward certain death was a hero’s burden.

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

“What are you saying now? I’m counting on you. If we survive to the end, what does a barony matter? We’ll become heroes of the realm!”

“Hahaha! My son will become a count!”

Only heroes could bear that burden. Only those who could treat other people’s lives as expendable for the greater good and endure it. Those who believed in their own justice and pressed forward even in despair.

Ivan could never do that. He lacked both the right and the ability to be called such a thing. He was the sort of agent who could accept cowardice for a small gain. He was a selfish man.

-And we’re outsiders.

Ivan nodded at Kim Seonwoo’s words. That was the greatest problem.

They were outsiders from a distant world.

They had no right to tell the people of this world to risk their lives.

-Let’s turn back even now. Let’s live quietly in Krasilov. We can just look after the Heroes of this generation until they grow up. Ivan, we don’t have to risk our lives.

He nodded at that as well. There was no need to.

His goal had always been the same. To return home. To escape this damned premodern world and return to a safe place where laws and social systems carefully protected each individual.

He didn’t want to give his heart to this world anymore. Everyone he had cared for had died before his eyes.

So he didn’t want to do this anymore. Ivan agreed with that. But...

But.

The one who picked up a sword in response to those words was Ivan. The one who understood Kim Seonwoo’s wounds and scars, endured them, and still rose to move forward was Ivan.

Kim Seonwoo had lost all desire to keep living.

Ivan agreed with Kim Seonwoo. Kim Seonwoo was also him, so his every thought was ultimately no different from Ivan’s own.

But Ivan did not agree.

To live. To survive. To move forward.

The one who had to give his all every moment for that was Ivan himself.

‘Shut up.’

He would never be able to live like the countless great heroes he had encountered.

Still, having seen them once, couldn’t he at least imitate them?

If he kept trying, again and again, might the imitation he painstakingly built one day reach the original?

Could he at least stand at the feet of the heroes he had admired in those days?

“It’s raining!!”

“Ah, damn it. Wonderful. Shields! Bring the shields!”

“I’ll take the reins. Good heavens, after fighting like a demon, he really is human after all. He doesn’t even react when someone takes his reins.”

“Rest a little longer. I may not be able to stop arrows, but I can protect you from the rain.”

“Haha, even royalty rarely receives this kind of aristocratic service. You should consider it an honor.”

He heard it all.

Ivan answered vaguely, then closed his eyes again. It was hard to tell whether he had truly answered or whether it had all been a hallucination.

Amid his burning nerves, Kim Seonwoo’s voice could no longer be heard.

* * *

-Bwoooooo!!

“Unbelievable.”

At dawn, the sound of a horn rang out. The soldiers clutching spears along the battlements had apparently stayed awake all night, dark circles beneath their eyes.

The sight below the high walls of the inner city was horrifying. In the distance, troops filled the plains of Saint Matilene as they marched forward.

More than thirty thousand combat troops meant that, including supply and support personnel, the total could safely be estimated at three times that number. By a simple, conservative calculation, there were nearly one hundred thousand hostile troops on those plains.

Even a thousand people counted as a crowd. They could fill a plaza with room to spare. Ten thousand could fill an entire arena. A hundred thousand blackened the plains.

“Should we rethink the plan? How are we supposed to assassinate someone in that?”

“There is no other way.”

Oscar gripped his sword and let out a breath. Tension, pressure, burden, and survival instinct all sounded their warnings. Somewhere among them, he had to kill a count and make it back.

If he failed, Tilles was finished.

Even if he succeeded, there was almost no chance of returning alive.

The soldiers were terrified. Even the Capital Defense Force, said to be Tilles’s finest regular unit, could not hide it.

-Bwoooooo!!

A curtain of people and a wall of banners drew closer.

“Come in. Come in...”

Eugene muttered as he tightened his grip on his sword. They had left one gate open along the enemy’s route of advance while sealing every other gate shut.

Naturally, they would begin their entry there. There was no reason to exhaust their soldiers by deploying siege towers.

‘Please come in.’

Count Grandmartel was the perfect example of an arrogant, narcissistic tyrant. He had plundered and burned every estate that opposed his will.

On the decisive battlefield where he would seize the throne, with an overwhelming force more than ten times their number, would someone like that truly remain in the rear?

The odds were even, but Eugene desperately hoped he would not.

“He’s in! He’s in!!”

Elphihara, who had been using Farsight beside him, screamed.

They had him.

Eugene pulled down his helmet visor and spoke quickly.

“Miss Elphihara. The blessing.”

Elphihara formed a hand seal, and violet mana twisted through her fingers. It immediately shot into Eugene’s head like lightning.

Overwhelming courage stirred in his chest.

It worked.

Eugene nodded and drew his sword.

“The Lord is with me, so I shall fear nothing.”

“It’s just a Courage Imbuement spell...”

“Kill the blasphemers.”

Reciting scripture, Eugene descended from the battlements. The others followed at his side. Within his detection range, no one could match Eugene as a scout.

“Oscar, are you sure you don’t want to say something? Something proud and dignified as the Defender Duke!”

“Let’s drop the formalities.”

“Pardon?”

“If we return alive. We’re friends, after all.”

Oscar smiled and pulled down his helmet visor. Isabelle and Aesidis burst out laughing as they drew their weapons.

“Lower the drawbridge!!”

“Yes...? What?”

At Oscar’s shout, the guard looked bewildered. Tens of thousands of soldiers were approaching. Yet their commander was ordering the gates opened?

“Hold out for half a day! From this moment on, I am going to execute Count Grandmartel!”

“That is suicide!!”

“Standing here is not much different! I am ordering you all to stand here and die!”

The soldiers’ faces hardened at Oscar’s words. He raised his sword and shouted.

“So at least as the one telling you to die, I am saying that I will go forward and fight until I die myself! Lower the drawbridge! Hold out for half a day, and if we do not return, surrender!”

“...Open the gates!”

“Open the gates!!”

The gates opened.

They led through Palais de Royale, the heart of the great knights, which had never once fallen of its own accord even during the last war.

Passing through them, Oscar struck his pounding chest roughly.

It was not time to be afraid yet. He wasn’t dead yet.

Let’s remember what Mr. Ivan taught me. If mana was controlled with precision, even one’s heartbeat could be regulated.

-Bwoooooo!!

The horn sounded. Oscar clenched his teeth and seized his horse’s reins.

Then, with a bang, his shoulder guard jolted hard. He staggered from the impact and looked to the side, where Isabelle was smiling.

“Straighten your back and stand proud!”

“Pardon?”