Ch.248Chapter 248: Arrival and Aftermath (2)

After disembarking from the airship and quickly entering Knight Haven while escorting Her Imperial Highness, the atmosphere was far from the coziness I had felt during my annual visits here in previous years.

One might question how I could find coziness in a fortress built on such frigid land.

But if it feels cozy, then it is cozy.

Even when facing the insane cold where volcanic ash-mixed blizzards freeze birds mid-flight, causing them to plummet.

If a place where comrades united by the mission and duty to protect the Empire together isn’t cozy, then what is?

While heading here after receiving the bad news, we had at least heard that the enemy’s attack had been repelled.

I expected to be greeted with at least minimal order maintained.

The black smoke visible from afar since boarding the airship proved my prediction wrong, reaching its peak as we arrived at the fortress.

Haha… this is awkward.

That was my impression upon seeing Knight Haven after a year.

Everything was awkward.

The black smoke from burning monster corpses, visible from inside the airship, was enough to gauge the situation.

As soon as we disembarked, this smoke—dominating not just our sight but also our sense of smell—served as a medium to estimate how chaotic this place must have been until yesterday.

Acrid smoke, so nauseating that ordinary people might vomit just from smelling it.

This dangerous smell, capable of making people temporarily lose their senses, was spreading mercilessly even in this southern gate area, far from the actual battlefield.

Even with strong winds, the stench from burning monster corpses after an ordinary battle wouldn’t spread this far—I never expected it to be this bad.

It was easy to understand why the expressions of the troops stationed throughout the southern gate were so gloomy.

Whether they were accustomed to the smell or not, how shocked must they be to face such a rare situation?

“…Not just the smell of gunpowder, but the scent of blood is also mixing in with the wind.”

Even Shizu, walking alongside me, though her expression remained unfurrowed, voiced her gloomy observation about the gunpowder and blood scents carried by the wind.

There’s no doubt that the spirits of everyone in the fortress, who had endured this smell all day, must be sinking.

Perhaps one consolation in this devastating situation is the solitary, dignified presence that somewhat lifts the fortress’s gloom?

Since entering the fortress, Imperial Princess Lucius has been making an impressive sight—maintaining her composure and walking proudly without the slightest change in expression despite the terrible stench.

[She may be seasoned in politics, but she shows no sign of discomfort in such a harsh place despite seeming unaccustomed to it. Impressive, truly impressive.]

Even Fafnir expressed brief admiration, so it wasn’t just my impression.

Of course, the princess’s dignified steps alone couldn’t immediately dispel the heavy atmosphere permeating the fortress.

The soldiers who usually conversed energetically, living with pride as the frontline defenders of the Empire…

The knights who served in fortress defense with even greater pride…

And even the civilians who demonstrated remarkable resilience here despite the cold…

All wore shadows on their faces unlike anything I could recall, even drawing from memories before my regression.

Though they hadn’t suffered major damage in yesterday’s battle, they seemed infected by the soldiers’ gloomy mood.

It would be strange if one person’s arrival could change all that.

If it were just these people, the situation might be salvageable, but what made it difficult was…

BOOM-!! BOOM-!!

No sooner had the princess passed through the southern gate than the fortress’s highest authority rushed forward and knelt dramatically.

THUD-!! THUD-!!

Now he was banging his forehead against the ground to express his distress. It would be absurd to expect others to chat cheerfully in such circumstances.

“Having failed in my duty and caused Your Highness to travel here, I, this old Nighthart, dare not raise my head!”

Lord Nighthart continued to bang his forehead against the ground while offering his remorseful apology.

BOOM-!! BOOM-!!

…That sound is truly thunderous.

I can only imagine the current state of the ground where Lord Nighthart is repeatedly striking with his forehead.

With his robust physique that wouldn’t shed a single drop of blood from his forehead despite this…

The ground must be covered with well-pulverized soil and sand by now.

Though the sight was somewhat absurd and amusing, I didn’t feel the slightest inclination to mock him.

[He feels deep responsibility for the current mess of this fortress, which hadn’t even been scratched during most magical beast invasions.]

‘It’s heartbreaking to see someone who did his best against an irresistible force punishing himself like this.’

As Fafnir pointed out, those who protect this fortress had suffered a major blow to the pride they always carry in their hearts, making this level of self-harm(?) seem relatively mild.

However, that’s just by my standards.

It’s clear that the fortress’s highest authority continuing to display such distress won’t help raise the morale of the soldiers and knights defending this place.

Someone should step in and stop him…

“Lord Nighthart, please raise your head.”

Ah, someone is already stepping forward.

The owner of that beautiful voice, which couldn’t conceal its solemnity despite its beauty, stopped Lord Nighthart from meaninglessly tormenting the ground with his forehead.

His head, which had been too busy striking the ground to rise, hesitated momentarily before slowly lifting.

Though traces of his forehead-banging were evident…

Lord Nighthart’s face, rising without any external injuries except for dirt, wore an expression of utter devastation.

“Your Highness…”

As soon as his head rose, a voice revealing his dejection to all listeners emerged from Lord Nighthart’s mouth, but…

“It pains me to see someone who has achieved such great merit blaming himself like this.”

Before he could continue, the princess’s words caused ripples in Lord Nighthart’s expression.

Well, it’s obvious that the princess wouldn’t rebuke Lord Nighthart in this situation.

But to go so far as to praise him for his great achievement…

I had expected her to merely offer encouragement while trying to salvage the sunken atmosphere, but my prediction was completely off.

[Considering the magical beasts that would have blackened this place, holding them off to this extent goes beyond a good defense—it’s truly a great achievement, so the princess is right.]

Fafnir is correct.

Just not surrendering the fortress to the enemy, regardless of the mess, constitutes an overflowing military achievement.

Especially overcoming a desperate numerical disadvantage while minimizing casualties—it’s absolutely appropriate to call it a tremendous achievement.

It’s just that the survivors, remembering those who departed first, couldn’t bring themselves to acknowledge these achievements and instead displayed gloom, making it difficult to openly lift the mood.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with Princess Lucius’s praise, which accurately expressed an objective assessment of the situation.

In the current situation, unlike previous years, where we couldn’t be certain that the retreating magical realm forces would completely abandon this year’s invasion…

We couldn’t leave the fortress garrison’s morale depressed indefinitely.

What remained depended on the princess’s own capacity to lead these people.

[Nothing to worry about—would a human who can use True Words fail to elevate a crowd’s mood in a positive direction?]

I was half-skeptical of Fafnir’s nonchalant confidence that the situation would pass smoothly, but…

“The Empire will never forget our mourning for those who went ahead, and our gratitude for the efforts of all of you who remained until the end to defend this position.”

After calming the dejected Lord Nighthart…

The profound persuasiveness in the princess’s words, as she slowly began addressing the soldiers gathering one by one around her…

It took only an instant to realize that it was working to support Fafnir’s optimism.

While Nighthart Parsifal was banging his forehead against the ground to express his self-blame for failing to properly defend the fortress…

And Princess Lucius was dispelling his dejection with a single sentence while focusing on boosting the morale of the survivors remaining in the fortress…

In a dark space situated much further north than Knight Haven’s location…

SWISH-!!

The sound of a sharp object cutting through the wind and…

BOOM-!!

The simultaneous thunderous sound of something other than wind being cut by that sharp object and falling to the ground could be heard.

Though what could be discerned by sound alone was quite limited in this pitch-dark space that rejected even a single ray of light…

These sounds of wind-cutting and booming reverberated through the dark space with remarkable regularity.

Almost as if such sounds were natural in this place.

Considering that this was the northern region, deemed the most dangerous place in the central continent…

And specifically a location not far from the magical realm where not even a single ray of light properly entered, such sounds weren’t particularly strange, but…

Unfortunately, the sounds that usually filled this dark place were rarely the cutting and booming sounds heard now.

GROOOOAR-!!

Yes, this sound. This is the sound most commonly heard in this place.

The strange howling of magical beasts who claim to be the masters of this land.

But although it’s a familiar sound, the howling now reverberating through this space differs in several ways from what is usually heard.

The howling should have expressed the boundless killing intent that magical beasts are known for…

But after an initially strong roar…

Gr…groooo-!!

The subsequent howling contained not killing intent but only fear—the fear of a magical beast overwhelmed by something.

What could possibly make a magical beast—which normally emits only instinctual killing intent to eliminate opponents, far from feeling fear against any but the strongest adversaries—feel such fear?

To know that, light would need to enter this dark space to visually identify what was there, but…

Gr…GROOOOOAR!!!!!

The magical beast momentarily suppressed its fear and expressed its squeezed-out killing intent.

Thud…thudthud-!!

The footsteps that followed as it tried to eliminate the source of its fear…

WHOOSH-!!

The sound of wind-cutting that overwhelmed the footsteps and…

SPLATTER-!!

The sound of blood and flesh being cut by the wind-cutting blade, creating a fountain of blood, and then…

THUD-!!

The sound of the magical beast’s corpse, after shedding enough blood to die, rolling on the ground—even during all this, not a single fragment of light entered to reveal what was happening here.

The only thing that changed after this situation ended was…

“Haaah…”

In this frustrating situation filled with mechanical sounds, a lively sound that could be identified as coming from a person softly reverberated through the dark space.

It was a thin breath—remarkably slender for someone who had dismembered an enormous magical beast with a single sword strike—but…

WOONG-!!

As the breathing continued, a faint but gradually blooming ray of light pierced through the dark space from its source…

Making it clear that this slender breath could no longer be described as weak.

Breathing, and light that brightened with each breath.

Yes. A human who would normally be powerless against beings filled with irresistible malice…

Among the breathing techniques that refine mana absorbed from nature into fighting spirit to grant superhuman strength…

This was the phenomenon that occurs when Pricasa, the light breathing technique that only those from families with extremely rare talents can use, manifests.

Then who exactly is using the light fighting spirit in such a dark place while continuing this fierce battle?

That could be easily confirmed through the appearance revealed by the light that brightened as the Pricasa breathing technique stabilized.

The first thing that caught the eye was hair gleaming in reflection of the light.

Though splattered with monster blood from the fierce battle…

The beauty emanating from the neatly trimmed, moderately long hair was not easily diminished by mere monster blood.

And besides the hair, something else was gleaming—the face.

Though blood splatter covered various parts of the face, creating a gruesome impression…

“I am getting tired…”

Despite the words expressing fatigue after gathering fighting spirit through the breathing technique, the green eyes—sparkling in readiness to overcome any situation that might befall her—radiated beauty without a speck of impurity.

Silver hair and green eyes.

Silver hair was a trait that invariably manifested in those who inherited the blood of House Ranos, one of the Empire of Solarium’s most distinguished martial families, who fought countless battles with magical beasts here every year.

And the green eyes were the same color as those of a knight who, despite being a woman, was recognized for her outstanding skills and was set to become the head of her family in the near future.

At this point, there’s hardly any need to explicitly state the identity of the woman fighting valiantly in this dark place, but…

I’ll name her anyway.

Iriana, Iriana Ranos.

The vice-commander of the Imperial Knights, the military group that the Empire of Solarium boasts of…

A prominent figure likely to ascend to the position of commander, not vice-commander, in the near future…

And the talented knight already designated as the next head of the great martial House Ranos…

She was the protagonist wielding an invisible sword alone in the darkness, engaged in a life-and-death struggle with magical beasts.