Ch.172172. War Preparations

Before the wounds of the Academy attack, which claimed numerous victims, had fully healed, shocking news came to light. Horizon, known as the Great Sage and a professor at the Academy, was allegedly colluding with the Neo Resistance.

The source of this information was Gilbert Lyon Hart, who currently enjoys the highest reputation in the Empire.

It was reported that after failing to prevent repeated attacks on the Academy, he launched an investigation, attributing the breaches not to security system flaws but to the actions of a Neo Resistance insider who had infiltrated the Academy.

He ordered the search for the insider to be led by Leila, commander of the Golden Mane unit—a ranger division under his family and highly renowned throughout the Empire—and soon uncovered a startling truth.

The insider was none other than Horizon, who had been revered as the Great Sage for many years and held a professorship at Demeia.

While the entire Empire was shocked by this revelation, attention focused on Gilbert’s insight and on First Princess Seraphina, who had taken him under her wing.

This achievement, occurring amid the officially declared succession battle, was seen as bringing her one step closer to the long-vacant position of Imperial heir.

However, as the succession battle had only just begun, it was premature to draw conclusions. Despite visible differences between the successors, ultimately, only the one who completely eradicated the Neo Resistance could become the heir.

Thus, while the Imperial citizens eagerly anticipated which successor would root out Horizon and the Neo Resistance, they also fervently prayed that the next heir would be someone capable of continuing the Empire’s reign.

***

Gilbert, guided by Leila, recovered the bodies of Johnson and Roel.

Their remains could hardly be described as intact—Horizon must have been furious that his identity had been exposed and Leila had escaped.

It was a difficult task just to gather their bodies, which had been torn to pieces by explosion magic.

The fact that only their heads remained relatively intact revealed how violently they had been killed in the explosion.

Leila, despite her not fully recovered condition, personally collected their remains. Though other soldiers assisted, she worked the hardest.

Gilbert also helped Leila, wanting to honor the souls of the two who had died following his orders.

Despite their best efforts to gather all the fragments, restoring the bodies to a complete state proved impossible. Buzz-cut Johnson was missing his right leg, while shaggy-haired Roel’s arms could not be found.

Leila searched the area with near-obsessive determination, but the powerful magic that killed them had likely disintegrated those parts completely.

When she tried to continue searching, unable to accept this reality, Gilbert stopped her. Instead, he commissioned a master craftsman to create high-quality prosthetic limbs, which were placed in the coffins where their bodies lay.

“Commander Leila, did those two have families?”

“Johnson was alone, but Roel had a wife and a son, as I recall.”

“I see.”

Gilbert gazed at the tightly sealed coffin lids, experiencing a feeling both familiar yet impossible to get used to.

Johnson had been robbed of the chance to start a family, while Roel had departed to a place from which he could never return to his family. Gilbert, who had given the search order, felt this deeply in his heart.

It was an emotion Gilbert had tried hard to forget. Throughout the war, he had been forced to bid farewell to countless comrades and always attended their funerals.

Sometimes he served as chief mourner for colleagues without relatives, or helped the families of his fallen comrades.

As the war dragged on, he attended more and more funerals, but this never became something he could process as mere experience—it was something to which he could never grow accustomed.

The deaths of Johnson and Roel triggered those memories he had wanted to forget.

He knew many casualties had occurred in the previous Academy attack. While their deaths held no different value than those of Johnson and Roel, fundamentally, these two had died because of his orders.

If he hadn’t ordered them to investigate, Johnson might have married and had children, and Roel might have returned to his family to live a comfortable life.

And also…

This isn’t good.

Gilbert shook his head to dispel these spiraling thoughts. This was one of his bad habits.

Imagining the futures of comrades who died during missions and feeling guilty about it.

Whether Gilbert had a direct connection to them or not wasn’t important. He would imagine the futures of fallen comrades with “what ifs,” wondering if there had been ways to prevent their deaths.

And he would always attribute the cause of their deaths to himself, continuing a vicious cycle of guilt for having survived alone. It was a form of post-traumatic stress disorder—the actual diagnosis he had received from a psychiatrist.

“Have them transported to Bismarck for a grand funeral. Also, ensure Roel’s family receives adequate compensation. Tell them I will personally visit them later.”

“You’ll go in person?”

“This happened because of my orders. At the very least, I should see Roel’s family myself.”

Leila vaguely sensed Gilbert’s feelings and bowed her head. She was once again deeply impressed by how he took care of his fallen subordinates as their commander.

“Commander Leila.”

“Yes, Lord Gilbert.”

“After Johnson and Roel’s funeral, bring the Golden Mane here.”

“The entire unit?”

Leila asked with wide eyes. Just dispatching her as the commander and two squad leaders had already stretched Gilbert’s authority to its limits.

It had only been possible under the pretext of investigating the Academy attack; otherwise, a refusal would not have been unreasonable.

“Yes, I’ll speak to the Count directly.”

“Are you sure that’s all right?”

“It won’t be a problem.”

Gilbert showed no hesitation, despite knowing that bringing in the entire Golden Mane unit would be much more difficult than summoning just the commander and squad leaders.

He seemed unconcerned about the stance of House Hart, which strictly maintained neutrality and focused solely on border defense.

Leila had many questions but chose not to express them. Instead, she gave the Golden Mane unit’s salute—striking her chest once—and headed toward Johnson and Roel’s coffins.

She wanted to say her final goodbyes to them before departing for Bismarck.

“Until the end, you two disobeyed your commander’s orders and left first. What’s so good about going ahead, you bastards? Be prepared when I eventually join you. I’ll smack the back of your heads.”

Leila spoke to the departed pair as if nothing had changed, addressing them just as she always had.

No, it wasn’t that nothing had changed—she was exercising extreme emotional restraint. She continued her act of nonchalance so they could depart on their long journey unburdened.

But she failed to swallow the indignation rising from the depths of her heart. Tears fell from her eyes as her emotions poured out.

Leila clenched her fists until her hands turned white.

“Just wait a little. I’ll send that bastard to the afterlife as a gift for you.”

Her eyes held cold determination and killing intent. It was both a promise to them and a pledge to herself.

Meanwhile, Gilbert, watching Leila, realized her eyes looked familiar. He felt he had seen them somewhere before, giving him a sense of déjà vu.

As he furrowed his brow at this elusive memory, he finally recalled it. The look in her eyes resembled the vengeful gaze of the game version of Leila, who had only one eye left.

Gilbert guessed how her mindset had changed. Though her eyes were different from the game version, her spirit was now filled with the same vengeance and anger as the Leila from the game.

Even Gilbert couldn’t predict how this would affect future events.

***

“Such insolent, lowly creatures!”

Ugh! Damn it!

Van Dyke was prostrating himself before Horizon, who was smashing various objects several times a day, desperately hoping for his anger to subside.

This mad old man, who had hurriedly arrived at the Neo Resistance headquarters a few nights ago, had abandoned his previously gentle demeanor and become irritable and eccentric. He would suddenly fly into a rage like someone having a fit and start destroying everything in sight.

At first, his attendants tried to stop him, but the unhinged Horizon killed anyone who touched him with explosion magic. The servants panicked and tried to refuse serving him, but in a society based on social hierarchy, this was not permitted.

After several such incidents, a few Neo Resistance members, unable to stand by any longer, attempted to intervene.

They believed the Sage of the Continent would be reasonable and calmly requested a dialogue, thinking that someone with such accumulated knowledge would act rationally.

Of course, their assumption was mistaken. Horizon, who had been thoroughly humiliated by Johnson and Roel, acted anything but rationally. He killed the members who tried to stop him just as he had done before, earning their resentment.

Van Dyke had to directly deal with the members’ anxiety and discontent while remaining wary of Horizon’s unpredictable explosion magic.

“Van Dyke.”

“I’m here, Lord Horizon!”

“Gather all members immediately.”

Horizon, having abandoned his benevolent tone, gave the order with eyes flashing with rage. He could not tolerate that all his carefully planned schemes had collapsed due to a moment’s carelessness and two utterly insignificant rangers.

To the public, he was the benevolent Great Sage, but in reality, he was nothing of the sort. Horizon was a man thoroughly consumed by stinginess, pettiness, and narrow-mindedness.

He refused to acknowledge that his plans had failed because of just two people. Instead, he deceived himself into believing this was the opportune moment.

After all, Horizon knew someone who possessed two things he desired.

Ian Tigris Linebarrel.

He was the one who owned the two items the Great Sage Horizon wanted.

These were the Sword of the Lion King, passed down as a family heirloom, and the ultra-artificial spirit Fresia.

“Understood. Is there anything else you wish to say?”

Van Dyke asked, sweating nervously. After a moment of contemplation, Horizon nodded with a cruel smile.

“Yes. Prepare for war.”

Horizon drew out the conquering desire that had been dormant in his blood.

The time to end the long era was approaching.