"And what are you doing now?"

Beck's eyes slowly widened. He couldn't understand why One-Eye was stuffing that deed—the one he valued more than his own life—into Beck's jacket.

Wasn't that the most important thing he had? Wasn't that the home he'd lost for more than ten years?

"Helping me carry it."

One-Eye looked completely matter-of-fact.

"If I keep it on me and really croak here, then what—my vineyard's supposed to turn into wasteland? You take it. If something happens to me, then go help me pull some weeds, pick some fruit... whatever. Just don't let it go wild. Otherwise, when I get down there, my old man'll start cursing me out again.

"Though I haven't been yelled at by him in over ten years. Honestly, I kind of miss it."

"But why give it to me?"

Not just his lips—Beck felt like his whole body was trembling. But it wasn't from fear. It was because the sword at his waist and the deed against his chest both seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, pressing so hard on him he could barely breathe.

"Who else would I give it to? You killed three Kingdom bastards earlier, didn't you? That makes you an old hand now. Something this simple should be easy enough."

"But... but what if I lose it? Or... or what if I die too?" Beck asked.

"Then don't die. Fight to stay alive," One-Eye said calmly.

"I want to fight too... but what if we lose?"

Beck asked again, "Baron Derik said it too just now. Our mission this time is dangerous too—maybe not much safer than staying in the fortress. If we lose and can't come back... then what are we supposed to do?"

"We won't lose."

One-Eye was still just as calm, just as matter-of-fact. His single eye rested on Beck as if he were stating the most indisputable truth in the world.

"You won't lose. They won't lose. And we won't lose either."

"Why?"

All at once Beck grew angry and shouted,

"We've already been pushed this far—by those Kingdom soldiers who won't stay dead... so why are you... why are you so sure?"

"It's simple."

"What?"

"I said, it's simple."

One-Eye grinned again.

"Just look at us, and you'll have your answer."

"..."

Smoke and dark clouds were driven overhead by some great wind from who knew where. The firelight in the camp flickered, mingling with the growing daylight and wrapping One-Eye in a strange, inexpressible glow.

Behind him, the other wounded soldiers standing in that same half-light also began to move. Like One-Eye, they started entrusting their most important things to the elite soldiers about to ride out.

A letter. A photograph. A final sentence. Or an Imperial bank deposit slip.

The elites, already fully armored, did not refuse. They simply drew themselves up harder, making themselves look taller, straighter, as though only that way could they bear those tiny objects that weighed more than armor.

In the distance, the massive thunder of battle went on without pause. Beck knew the Kingdom was still attacking that wall of ice, and that before long they would break through it. Then those terrifying, troublesome, almost impossible-to-defeat "undying" troops would come sweeping back again.

But for some reason, Beck suddenly felt that the Kingdom's powerful "undying" army wasn't all that invincible after all. Yes, their rear attack had caught the Empire completely off guard. Yes, that monstrous inability to die was enough to terrify anyone. But... in that moment Beck understood that some things could not be utterly crushed by sneak attacks and twisted tricks alone.

Even if this fortress collapsed, that thing would still remain standing.

"All right, stop staring into space. It's getting late. Hurry up and go get ready."

Beck suddenly tasted salt in his mouth. Looking down, he saw One-Eye stuffing a strip of dried meat between his lips.

"That's the dried meat from before. I'm paying you back."

One-Eye waggled his brows and said in a smug, sleazy tone, "Now you owe me even more. Maybe even your life. So you'd better finish what I told you to do and keep my deed safe the whole way through. Got it?"

"..."

Beck felt his mouth go even saltier. This time he truly couldn't say a word. All he could do was chew and swallow, piece by piece, the dried meat One-Eye had secretly fished back out of Beck's jacket while Beck pretended not to notice. At last, heavily, he nodded.

"Yeah. I will!"

...

...

"Soldier! Soldier!"

Time seemed to lurch forward all at once. When Beck came back to himself, he was already wearing solid armor unlike anything he had ever worn before, mounted on a fine warhorse, standing within a perfectly ordered formation.

A cool voice snapped him awake. He turned his head, and his heart clenched.

Her long silver-white hair was tied back in a ponytail, swaying lightly like a strip of the Milky Way cut down from the sky. Her cold eyes were colder than a winter night, yet not sharp—more like a lake of thawing ice at the start of spring.

The Empress of the Empire wore fitted soft armor, a cloak billowing in the wind. She too rode an armored warhorse as she slowly approached from the flank of the formation.

"Soldier. What is your name?"

Authority and coldness seemed carved into her brows and eyes, enough to make anyone afraid to raise their head ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) and offend her. But her tone was gentle and calm, carrying a power that could stir men's hearts.

"Beck! My name is Beck!"

Beck straightened in the saddle.

"Beck. A good name."

Celicia nodded, then asked,

"Are you afraid, Beck?"

"Afraid?"

Beck repeated the word instinctively, as though asking the sovereign of the Empire—and also asking himself.

Afraid?

Of course he was afraid.

Just two hours ago, he had still been a coward running for his life with his head tucked down in front of the enemy.

Even now, his body was still trembling under the armor. Fear kept urging him to put down his sword, take off the armor, and turn around and run.

But... something hot against his chest was steadily driving that fear away, and telling him...

Afraid was the kind of thing recruits said. Now, he was a veteran.

He had personally hacked down three real Kingdom bastards already. How could he possibly say he was afraid?

"Reporting to Your Majesty, I am not afraid!"

Clenching the hilt at his waist, Beck shouted with every bit of strength he had.

"Is that so..."

Celicia could see the tremor in his body had not yet fully vanished, and yet she could also feel the resolve blazing in the eyes of this soldier who was no longer a boy. A look of approval appeared on her face.

"Good."

She said nothing more. With a flick of the reins, she rode forward until she reached the very front of the formation.

Where all could see her, golden light spread, and the authority of the sovereign descended, making her seem incomparably tall and solemn.

"Everyone!"

Celicia's gaze swept over them all.

"The Kingdom struck us with despicable tricks and underhanded magic, catching us off guard and driving us into this desperate position. I will not waste words describing the danger we are in now."

"What I will say is this: we are people of the Empire. We stand bathed in the Empire's glory, guarding the Empire's land. Neither trickery nor magic can truly defeat us."

"Yes, we are in adversity now, and one wrong step could doom us beyond recovery. But we have not lost yet. If defense cannot win this battle, then we will attack!"

"Do you understand? This is not a breakout. It is not a retreat. It is... an offensive that will decide the true victor!"

Celicia drew the ordinary longsword to which she had granted the name King, and its blazing majesty rose like the sun.

She did not continue with some lengthy speech to rouse their hearts, because in her view, that sort of thing did not need to be specially roused. All that was required was for her—for her, the sovereign of the Empire—to stand where everyone could see her, at the very front.

"Open the gates," she said.

"Open—the gates!"

With a deep, rumbling groan, the main gates at the front of the fortress slowly swung open. The Kingdom soldiers who had spent the entire night attacking without result had not yet adjusted to the glaring light when they saw, in stunned disbelief, the fortress gates thrown wide of their own accord.

But what met them was not victory.

It was a perfectly ordered, superbly equipped force of Imperial elite cavalry.

"Aurier secretly moved the Kingdom's elite troops to the rear of the fortress, and even used Ancient Magic on those soldiers. I admit it—this caused us enormous trouble, enough that we were forced into a decision as risky as this one.

"But that also means the enemy in front of the fortress is not as strong as we first imagined."

Celicia lifted her eyes. Reflected in her cool pupils were the black mass of Kingdom soldiers before the fortress.

Their numbers still far exceeded the thirty thousand elite troops Celicia had scraped together from the fortress with everything she had. They were vast enough to look like a tide that could drown her whole force with ease.

And yet she seemed to see at a glance just how fragile this army was.

No commanding general. No resolve. Perhaps not even any fixed objective at all. They were nothing more than bait Aurier had left here to tie down the fortress garrison.

How much fighting strength could a force like that really possess?

"So let me follow this bait and personally meet the fisherman behind it. I imagine he'll be very pleased."

The sword in Celicia's hand came down, and with it the sovereign's authority descended as well, instantly tearing open a gap in the battlefield like an iron spike driven into wood.

Celicia charged first into that gap, and only then did her commanding voice ring out behind her:

"All forces—on my order, punch straight through them!"