WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 142: The Crumbling Boundary (10)

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After leaving the village, Kyle's group headed for Marent earlier than planned. It was well past midnight, but now that the Imperial Army had shown itself, they could not stay in the village and rest comfortably.

A procession of horses and people moved across the snowfield, where moonlight was the only source of light. Countless footprints stretched behind them.

Everyone was dressed differently. Unlike Kyle's group, who wore proper clothes and cloaks, the villagers and refugees following behind them wore ragged clothing and had wrapped thin scraps of cloth around themselves to ward off the cold.

The Federation soldiers were not much better. With blood-darkened bandages around their limbs, they clung to their horses as they moved forward. There were not enough warhorses, so two people rode on each saddle.

As Kyle looked over the scene, he felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

Running away again.

Once from Hailen during the Northern War. Twice after meeting Elysia in the south of the continent and escaping a wyvern knight's pursuit. And now, after setting foot in the Federation, a third time as he tried to put distance between himself and the Imperial Army.

Looking back, Kyle had always been driven away since falling into this world. Even in the Empire, where he had first opened his eyes, he had barely endured for a year alone before becoming caught up in the nobles' political struggles and practically fleeing north.

Nothing had changed much since then.

Not after losing everything precious to him. Not even now, when he had sworn revenge.

In the end, he was still powerless, someone who could do nothing alone. No matter how strong he became, there was little one person could do against the Empire.

What if the capital of the Kingdom of Russel fell?

Could they even reach Rier without encountering a wyvern knight?

What was the Emperor thinking?

Wyverns were not invincible. Kyle knew that well, having fought them to exhaustion as a member of the Knights of Ash. He also knew that Cassius Mortein and his Wyvern, Ksalak, were monsters beyond ordinary standards.

If they could establish even a minimal defensive line.

Then...

"Huff... huff..."

"Hey, are you okay?"

"I can still manage. It's just a little cold..."

"Hold on a little longer. We can rest soon. It's still better than dealing with those Imperial bastards."

Kyle, riding at the head of the procession, looked back at the Federation soldiers following behind him. Wearing cloaks just thick enough to keep in some body heat, they struggled not to fall from their horses.

The refugees and villagers trailing behind them were in much the same state. They had not been able to prepare properly when they rushed to follow Kyle's group. Some had also been injured in the Imperial Army's sudden attack, just like the Federation soldiers.

They were already shivering from hunger and the winter cold. Moving through the snowfield at such a late hour meant they could not make good time.

"I think they're reaching their limit. Everyone is exhausted, and it's the middle of a winter night..."

Noel said it with concern as he kept glancing back. Elysia, riding beside Kyle, looked at the blond knight.

"Is it true that you know this area well?"

"To some extent."

"At this rate, it seems difficult to reach Marent by today..."

"We'll have to keep moving while resting when we can. After what happened, we cannot remain in that village."

Matis only furrowed his brow and could not offer a reassuring answer. Gren, who had quietly listened, lowered his head as though ashamed.

In a way, Gren's cavalry had given the Imperial cavalry a reason to attack by staying in the village.

"What are the chances that other cavalry units will pursue us this far?"

After considering their situation, Kyle asked Gren. Gren hesitated for a moment, then closed and opened his eyes as if gathering his thoughts.

"Fifty-fifty."

"......"

"They spread their encirclement wide to capture us, so they probably cannot quickly communicate among themselves. But one cavalry unit already made it here... That means it is only a matter of time before the other two find us."

"If we're unlucky, we'll be attacked before reaching Marent."

"...Yes. Their skill aside, they seemed experienced at pursuing people."

"That makes sense. They must have plenty of experience if they fought in the Northern War."

Kyle's voice sharpened without him realizing it. At the faint killing intent in his calm tone, Gren flinched.

"Sir Knight! Slow down...!"

"Urgh!"

An accident occurred at the rear of the procession just then.

Kyle's group at the front pulled on their reins and stopped their horses. Looking back, they saw refugees and villagers who had finally collapsed from exhaustion.

Among them was the young refugee girl who had been especially attached to Elysia.

They're reaching their limit.

Just as expected, the group had been slowed down.

Kyle felt a trace of pity for the villagers and refugees looking at him with desperate eyes. At the same time, he despised himself for finding them repulsive.

"What time is it?"

Matis clicked his tongue softly and asked Noel, his squire. White breath rose from between his lips.

"It is nearly three in the morning."

"......"

"No matter how I look at it, this is the limit. We need to rest."

"Damn it. It looks like we'll need another day to reach Marent."

"Kyle..."

Noel, Matis, and Elysia all turned to Kyle at once. The people following them also looked at Kyle.

I'm still powerless.

Kyle did not answer. He only looked up at the blackened sky.

A bright full moon hung in the winter night sky. After staring at it for a moment, Kyle slowly opened his mouth.

* * *

In the dead of night, the procession rested briefly before once again making its heavy way toward Marent. They allowed themselves no time beyond the bare minimum of rest.

That was as far as Kyle was willing to compromise.

Kyle's group still led the procession, but things were no longer the same. Perhaps because they pitied the villagers and refugees, the injured cavalrymen took turns guarding the rear. If anyone collapsed from exhaustion, they let them ride in an empty seat at the front.

Elysia did the same.

It was useless sympathy in a way, but Kyle did not bother stopping them. If people collapsed from exhaustion, the procession would slow down. More importantly, having the cavalry guard the rear was helpful enough.

If the Imperial cavalry appeared again, they would have to respond immediately.

After consulting Matis, Noel, and Gren, who knew the Federation's terrain well, Kyle chose the shortest route while making sure to erase their trail. He used magic to overturn the snow marked by their footprints.

At times, he deliberately left footprints and changed direction slightly to confuse anyone following them.

Perhaps because of that, they were not attacked for the next day and into the following one.

By afternoon, the procession finally spotted its destination.

"M-Marent...!"

"We made it..."

"Mom, are we going to rest now?"

"Yes. Let's get plenty of rest today. We've walked a lot."

The villagers at the rear of the procession murmured in bright voices.

In the distance stood the imposing walls of a city. It could not compare to Renavik, the Federation's capital, or the capitals of other kingdoms, but Marent was the largest city in this region.

"This is bad..."

"I expected it, but the situation here does not look good either."

Matis and Noel, on the other hand, looked grim.

There were far too many people gathered near the city gate. They were too far away to see clearly, but it was obvious that they were refugees moving to the rear because of the Imperial Army's advance.

That only proved how serious the situation was.

"I think this is where we part ways."

Kyle's group guided their horses to the back of the long line of refugees before the gate. Before leaving, Elysia dismounted and looked down at the young girl who approached her.

"Big sister... Are you leaving?"

"Yes. This is as far as we go together."

The girl looked as though she might burst into tears. Her mother, flustered, tried to stop her, but Elysia raised a hand to stop her.

"Take care of yourself. Stay healthy."

"...Okay."

"We will see each other again someday. Fate sometimes finds us in unexpected ways."

"Do you really think so?"

"As long as we are alive, anything is possible."

While Elysia said goodbye to the girl, Matis had a brief conversation with the village chief.

After parting with the others, the five of them led the injured cavalrymen and walked confidently alongside the refugees waiting in line.

"Federation soldiers?"

"The man in front looks like a knight, but they look terrible."

"Wait, isn't that a Chevalier?"

"What? Did the Council act directly?"

The long line blocking the city gate split apart as though by agreement. The soldiers, who had been sweating as they inspected refugees, widened their eyes when they saw Matis at the front.

"C-Chevalier?"

"Hey, you idiot! Watch your mouth!"

"My apologies, but may I ask your identity, Sir Knight? It is procedure..."

The captain of the guard asked cautiously, watching Matis's reaction.

The emblem on Matis's breastplate and dark navy cloak was clear enough for anyone to recognize at a glance. Yet the rigid guard captain did not look away from Matis despite appearing intimidated.

"I am Matis Breil of the Chevaliers."

Matis glanced at the cavalrymen behind him and looked into the city.

"What brings a Council Knight here...?"

"I request an audience with Marquis Levran, lord of Marent."

Matis dismounted and made the request politely.

"May we enter?"

* * *

Several vassals, including Marquis Levran, lord of the city, had gathered in a fairly large meeting hall. Late afternoon sunlight fell diagonally through the room.

"We must abandon the city now!"

"What? Abandon the city?"

"Then do you have another way? The Imperial Army has already pushed through nearly half the Kingdom of Russel's territory. The front is pushed back every day, while cities and fortresses keep falling. What else can we do here?"

"And you call yourself a formally sworn knight? A knight must know how to draw a sword even when death awaits!"

"That is not honor. It is a dog's death! We need to retreat to the rear and rebuild the front now!"

"How far back? Will you still spout that nonsense after the kingdom's capital falls?"

Shouts erupted throughout the room.

An old knight, his face red, roared at the top of his lungs. Young knights lamented with frustrated expressions. Vassals and mages anxiously looked between them.

"Enough!"

Bang!

Marquis Levran, seated at the head of the table, finally slammed his hand down.

The noisy meeting hall fell silent.

"Ha..."

Marquis Levran rubbed his weary eyes after letting out a sigh.

"What about the Council? Has there been any news?"

"No. This invasion came too quickly, so no orders have been issued yet."

"It will take several more weeks to summon Chevaliers from across the land. Some of the Council Knights stationed at the front may have already been killed by the Celestial Knights. If their cities have fallen, the result is obvious."

Marquis Levran spoke as though facing reality head-on.

A gloomy silence weighed heavily on the meeting hall. Everyone was thinking the same thing.

The Kingdom of Russel was finished.

Located at the center of the Federation and the middle of the continent, it had thrived on trade because it bordered both the Elandor Empire and the Crescent Theocracy. It was far wealthier than the Federation's other four kingdoms and could have expanded its military forces during peacetime.

Yet the merchant-minded nobles of the Kingdom of Russel had always opposed it.

The Northern War has nothing to do with us.

Was it not the Kingdom of Russel that had most fiercely opposed sending troops, even until Hailen stood on the verge of destruction?

Relations between the Empire and Russel are not bad. The border closure will soon be lifted.

This is all only temporary.

That pathetic faith had vanished overnight when the Celestial Knights filled the skies of the Federation.

Fortresses along the front fell helplessly. Refugees who had lost their homes poured in from every region.

Even that had reached its limit.

Marent itself had been overflowing with refugees for several days. They had opened the east gate to send many of them to the rear, but more people wanted to remain within the walls of a large city, even if it meant enduring discomfort, rather than stay outside where death might come at any time.

Valone, famous as the land of knights, and the Kingdom of Rustin, which had also grown through trade, would not have been driven back so miserably by the Celestial Knights.

Where had it all gone wrong?

As Marquis Levran mourned the past with regret-filled eyes, urgent footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the meeting hall.

Soon after, the large doors flew open.

"My lord!"

The captain of the guard at the city gate entered.

The faces of those seated at the table slowly twisted.

It was not because the captain had entered the meeting hall without knocking. It was the unease of knowing something serious must have happened for the captain to rush in so urgently.

The fear that Wyverns might pass over their heads at any time.

The helpless realization that abandoning the city might be their only option.

"What is it?"

The marquis at the head of the table asked on behalf of everyone in the hall.

"There are visitors outside."

"Visitors?"

"Yes. Cavalrymen from Krosen Fortress, along with knights who joined them along the way..."

The soldier could not finish.

A group entered through the open doors. There were five of them, each with a different appearance.

A blond knight wearing a dark navy cloak. A young man in a brown coat, slightly shorter than him. A man with bloodied bandages wrapped around his limbs.

Finally, there was a man in a black cloak and a woman who appeared to be a mage, dressed in a pure white robe with her hood pulled up.

"Chevaliers...?"

Someone murmured it.

The meeting hall became noisy again at the unexpected arrival. At that moment, the man in the black cloak stepped forward.

All eyes in the hall suddenly turned to him.

Ignoring them, the man in black slowly looked around as though studying prey. Marquis Levran felt his mouth go dry.

More than the familiar blond knight, it was those emotionless black eyes that caught his attention.

"We came here seeking the lord of Marent."

The silent man in the black cloak finally spoke.

A moment later, the marquis's gaze met Kyle's in the air.

"Are you Marquis Levran?"

Footnotes:

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