30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue
chapter-106

“Stop.”

“Grrrraah…!!”

Eignak swiftly drew his sword. Every time he tightened his grip, the artifact fiercely warned him. Move another inch, and he dies. He will definitely die.

Even now, beyond that, death lurks somewhere deep in the forest.

No, the word ‘even now’ seems somewhat awkward. When he recalls, since entering this forest, he has never been out of sight of his gaze for even a moment.

Now he could understand. Kidnapping him and other leaders, slowly reducing his group, and now playing such a puppet game.

Through the future shown by the artifact and the insight gradually enhanced through the magic injected into his body, the clear truth was whispering.

“My brothers and I, how dare you! How dare you exploit us like scarecrows!”

Anger swallowed fear. Eignak fiercely swung his sword and nodded.

He threw away the human youth held in his grip and closed his eyes for a moment. The smell of blood permeated thickly among his scorched brothers. The scent of his brothers, whom he had led to slaughter limb by limb, was faint.

To submit to fear and prolong life, he sold his brothers for limbs, crawling miserably on the ground. He did it willingly. For every demon, the meaning of power was proof of its existence, meaning that life was the right of the strong.

If he survives, there will be another chance. That was the ideology of the losers and demons living in this era.

But now, holding the artifact known as the demon king’s eye. At this moment when inexplicable black magic is being injected into his veins.

He had returned as the commander of the [2nd Dragon Corps 103rd Infantry Battalion 23rd Strike Corps]. Now, and cowardly.

Eignak took a deep breath. As his heart thumped, anger pushed fear away.

Anyway, there is no way to live. Even if he kills these kids, that ‘death’ won’t let him live. Now that insight has come, he clearly knows his position.

Then, at least.

“Aaaargg—!!”

Eignak roared loudly. With eyes blazing red, he stared down at the small figure holding a sword in front of him.

A slender body, delicate arms, and oddly neat attire that didn’t suit this place. Despite being covered in dirt, the sparkling, shiny hair and clean face.

He wouldn’t end the life of such a human noble child as a scarecrow. Eignak gritted his teeth and raised his staff.

“Lord Tumor!! I dedicate my penance to struggle!!”

Eignak shouted and leaped towards the child.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The ground shook. Perhaps from the tension or the pounding heartbeats.

Isabelle glanced at the bitter corners of her mouth and held the sword straight. Like an enraged bull, the orc was charging.

It felt like a siege wall rushing forward. Considering the difference in height and physique, there was a gap. But in terms of momentum, the guy was close to perfection.

The leader. The strong one who crushed Oscar in just a few seconds.

Scared?

Naturally.

Isabelle slowly raised her mana. Fear is natural. Although it’s not the first time she’s faced demons in battle. Even during the attack on the university express train, she faced opponents of that caliber.

However, struggle. Fighting. Combat. It’s always frightening.

But even so, would she give up even in that moment?

“No way!!”

In the slowly passing time, amid the rough footsteps shaking the ground, amid the pounding heartbeats that still pounded her chest.

Isabelle felt the fallen Oscar, Ecdysis behind her, and the exhausted Elpheira.

“Raise your sword.”

Recalling the oath of that day.

“Stand in the position of the weak and look with the eyes of the weak.”

“It’s not your strength, but for your righteousness, raise the sword.”

“We wield the sword not for our courage, strength, or superiority.”

“Because it’s simply right!!”

Isabelle shouted out. Because of righteousness, for what should rightly be protected.

For her friends behind her. And for her ‘uncle’ who might have died somewhere in this forest by now.

For all of them, everyone within her reach, if possible. To do her best to save them.

No one’s death will precede hers. If someone has to fall, it will be after she finally breathes her last.

No one here today will die before me.

Finally, Isabelle’s time began to warp and distort.

Time is fragmented. Senses are distorted.

– Tick.

It feels like the sound of the hour hand aligning. It’s an illusion between endless neural connections due to the overload of mana.

The air is heavy. The blade is heavier. The arms that were once infused with energy are still difficult to wield. It’s not easy. The sword she has wielded her entire life feels unfamiliar.

But, she swings.

Aaaargh—!!

The staff and the sword collided. Sparks flew, and amidst them, the orc’s massive face lurched dangerously close. Its protruding fangs glinted menacingly.

Life clashes. Those with stronger wills shall prevail in this place.

So, hopefully, even if she finally falls today, Isabelle can take just one more breath than the opponent.

So, she doesn’t stop. Despite being outmatched in strength, physique, and perhaps even skill. Nevertheless, she lifts the sword, swings, slashes, and sweeps it up.

– Clang!

– Aarggh!!

Even in the moment when Isabelle’s eyes are blurred by sweat and blood, she sharpens her gaze solely on the enemy’s heart.

*

Gulp—!!

Oscar opened his eyes in agony. The intense noise of the battle axe echoed in the distance.

How long has it been since he sustained this level of injury?

The dwarf attack during his first field training. Ah, when his leg broke from the fall back then. It hasn’t been that long after all.

Oscar forced a smile, pulling up his stiff cheek by force.

His left hand… was broken. His sword was too heavy to wield with just his right arm. Once he returns to Frechenkaya, he plans to enchant a one-handed weapon. So that even if his arm is broken, he can still swing it.

So, for now, he pretends to practice and firmly grips the hilt with his right hand.

Aaaarghh—!!

Oscar struggled to open his swollen and distorted eyes. Isabelle was fighting not far away.

She swung her sword with tremendous speed. But everything was blocked. The orc’s attacks were heavy and slow, but with each blow, Isabelle’s slender body easily gave way.

Despite the overwhelming difference in physique and strength, what was decisive was visible to his eyes just a step away.

That orc must have a very keen ‘instinct’.

He didn’t think the skill was impressive. There was no indication of that even when he clashed swords. It’s just ‘instinct’. Perhaps he has an ability like ‘combat foresight’.

He had seen him ‘read’ and respond to his moves before he even made the attack several times. Even now, and just a moment ago.

Oscar grumbled. How on earth do you beat something like that?

If he can’t match him in strength or mana. And if even his skill doesn’t work, then how on earth do you win?

Still.

“I have to save her.”

Oscar smiled as he raised his sword. He limped towards the battlefield. He gathered a handful of mana, and stepped into the space where the blade flashed at a speed invisible to the eye.

He is the son of Jill Ber, the eldest son of the Lord of Tylesse, and a knight of Tylesse. And there is only one duty that a knight must fulfill.

Always be righteous.

A knight is not simply called so because they are physically strong. Those who simply ride horses are not called knights.

A knight is a symbol. It is a symbol that proves that even in the darkest moments, humans can do good. Even if not all humans are good all the time, and even if they know that there are more villains than good people in the world.

Even if it’s a foolish act, even if it’s a dull action, even if there’s no gain or honor.

Humans must prove that they can do good, and that they can dedicate themselves fully to goodness.

Be righteous at every moment. That’s what Tylesse teaches.

So, raise your sword.

Running away under the protection of a peer girl, his right arm was perfectly fine.

Even if it’s just a handful, there’s still mana left in my body.

I can still fight.

“I have to protect her.”

Time passes slowly. The blade rises slowly. In the dark hour of this death, where the only light is moonlight and campfires.

A new star rises.

*

Ecdysis couldn’t dodge Elpheira’s blast. She was too close to evade it.

In a half-dazed state, she watched her two friends rushing towards the giant orc.

Ah, the Knights College.

That’s what she thought. They were the ones who learned how to fight. Unlike her. She was just a little weak, never having taken a knight’s class.

Just a music major. The daughter of a hero party who fled to play music.

When that thought came to her, she suddenly looked at her body.

Still standing.

Despite trembling all over from the shock, she was still standing on two feet.

As if about to collapse to her knees any moment, her muscles trembling and screaming, she still stood.

She heard her father’s voice in her numb ears.

– Kneeling means having the strength to bend your knees.

– Drovian’s warriors walk forward as long as their knees move.

“But what if I really feel like I’m going to die?”

– Look at the sky, Essi. Can you see the stars?

“Yes, Father.”

– The stars are the tips of your ancestors’ swords that appear by tearing through the darkness. Drovian’s warriors always move forward, not only in the moment of death but also after death. If there’s a fight, forward. If you can still move forward, forward. If you still have the mind to think, forward.

– Forward.

– Death cannot stop Drovian’s warriors. We don’t avoid death. Because we believe that someday, we can kill death too. Like your ancestors did.

– Forward.

“Forward.”

Ecdysis picked up the axe dropped by the orc with both hands.

At this moment, a music major isn’t needed. It’s the moment when Drovian’s warriors are needed.

Because there’s still movement, there’s still thought, and there are still enemies to face.

Forward.

*

“These bastards, these humans…!! That one and that one!!”

Elpheira muttered as she pressed her nose, which was bleeding from excessive spell use. She was running out of mana to maintain her barrier spell.

Towards where her comrades were fighting. Scratching her skin on the bushes and bushes, desperately.

“Don’t die yet!!”

Elpheira ran through the crimson-tinted vision. How much mana was left? Certainly, not even a drop! Don’t these human bastards know the tactical retreat? You have to survive first!

Anyway, they’re like short-thinking tribes. Like faithful beasts that, once they set their sights on something, cling to their prey until they die.

They may have short thoughts, be fragile, smelly, and even cause allergies.

But there’s one more thing humans and dogs have in common. They must be protected from the standpoint of those superior. That’s the duty of the elves.

Yes, protecting vulnerable races is the burden of civilized beings. It’s inevitable. Truly.

Elpheira chuckled and reached out her hand. If there’s no mana, she indiscriminately absorbs the latent mana. It may be a magic that can be used inefficiently, but still.

– Whoosh!!

Tears of blood flowed from the intense recoil. The nosebleed started again. Her fingertips trembled sweetly. But still.

“I am Graykencos.”

Even if mana is depleted, as the daughter of Beolglin, she must still be able to craft magic.

Her honor and pride are everything to her. Without giving up, she reaches out her arm, aims at the orc’s head.

Closes one eye to aim.

Turns mana to align.

Click. Hearing the sound of gears turning, it’s good, good. The tempo and tuning are perfect. After all, I’m a genius.

I have to save these humans.

Firing.

*

“Commander, I’ll fire… I’ll fire now.”

“Wait.”

Ivan quietly reached out and pulled the lieutenant’s rifle barrel down.

“Our role is just to observe.”

“But that’s… too intense for the students!”

“For the students, yes.”

Ivan answered, his gaze fixed on the battlefield.

“But it’s necessary for the fledgling warriors who have just begun to step forward.”

Follow me.

Ivan nodded and leaped down from the tree. He wanted to witness today’s battle, which might become the first sentence of a long epic, a little closer.

His role had always been one step behind, during wartime and now. He wouldn’t receive the spotlight shining among those main actors.

Still, Ivan ran like he did back then.

He didn’t exactly like warriors. Maximilian was a lunatic, after all.

But he admired them.

Even now, as he looked at the new warriors being born.