Ch.649Finale

Using the barrier of fire as a screen, I crouched down and frantically searched the ground for something to cover my body.

Even if I couldn’t cover my entire body, I needed to at least hide my Stigmata, chest, and lower parts. If I showed myself like this to others, I’d be seen not as the daughter of Landenburg, but as daughter material.

Perhaps that disgrace would be preserved like Rotholandus, passed down for generations to come.

How could I possibly face that?

Just imagining it sent chills down my spine.

That’s why I was desperately searching for something to wear.

The rocky hill area I had emerged from was a complete mess of heat and blood, and I couldn’t find any intact clothing anywhere.

Surcoats and cloaks were all torn and burned to ashes, and most of the armor was half-melted, distorted, and twisted. Worse still, every piece had bits of flesh and entrails stuck to them like barnacles on a dock.

After searching through the sea of blood for dozens of seconds, I finally found a piece of armor that still maintained its shape.

A chain mail for infantry that would cover about half of my thighs. Judging by the style, which wasn’t Ka’har armor, it seemed that not only enemies had been caught in the Field of Mortality.

“……”

I closed my eyes and offered a brief prayer for the salvaged armor.

Though it wasn’t my doing, Hersella had fallen silent again, perhaps back asleep, so I was the only one who could apologize for these deaths.

It was an unexpected accident. The Tale of Heros instantly kills all living beings in its area regardless of friend or foe, but who would have thought those far above would be considered within range?

In a way, I bear some responsibility too. If I hadn’t set Hersella free, the Field of Mortality wouldn’t have engulfed these people.

Seeing the Ka’har armor pieces scattered around, the owner of this armor would likely have been cut down by the Ka’har anyway, even without the Field of Mortality… but I still needed to apologize. It was the right thing to do.

Even if they were destined to die regardless of Hersella’s actions, that doesn’t absolve what Hersella did.

—-

After my brief mourning, I shook the chain mail to remove most of the blood and flesh stuck to each link, then draped it over myself like a cloth.

Looking at the twisted and broken chains, I could tell that if an ordinary person wore this, their skin would be pinched and scraped raw.

But that wasn’t a problem for me. Rather, the issue was that my skin was visible through the gaps in the chains.

It was literally nothing more than a temporary measure.

Anyway, wearing what amounted to a short-sleeved chain mail dress, I headed toward the rear position. It took some time since I couldn’t run at full speed with my damaged leg.

“Huh? What just…”

Soldiers I passed by rubbed their eyes as if they’d seen an apparition. Well, they probably had never seen a human who could cover ten meters in a single bound while using a sword as a cane.

—-

“Priest Schweitzer, over here!”

“Remove the armor first! Metal fragments have dug into the flesh!”

“Oh Saulite…!”

The rear position I arrived at was filled with priests pouring healing miracles onto the wounded who had been evacuated.

Except for using recovery potions and healing arts instead of morphine injections, it was a familiar sight. Field hospitals are similar everywhere, I suppose.

“Lord Median?!”

One of the busy priests spotted me and rushed over with a startled expression, looking as if she might jump. She was a young woman in the nun’s habit of the Church of Saulite.

“A-are you alright?”

“I’m fine except for my leg. Though my armor is completely burned away.”

“But, the blood…!”

The priestess pointed at my upper body with a trembling hand.

Come to think of it, I was covered in so much blood that it would shock anyone who saw me. Most of it was Ka’har blood, though.

“It’s not my blood. More importantly, I need healing magic and clothes to wear. Anything will do, just something I can put on quickly.”

“Ah, yes! Please wait a moment!”

After hearing my answer, the priestess hurriedly ran off somewhere and returned with a healing priest from the Church of Saulite who had treated me before. She was carrying a quilted garment, pants, a clean chain mail, and boots from who knows where.

“It’s been a while.”

“Indeed. First time since my sparring with Nigel.”

They handed me the clothes and created a temporary screen with a bedsheet while pouring healing miracles onto my wounds. Meanwhile, I quickly removed the twisted chain mail and changed into the new clothes.

Since I had my back to them while changing, I managed to hide my Stigmata.

“Lena isn’t here?”

“Sister Lena is taking care of the severely wounded. Would you like me to call her?”

“No, that’s fine.”

I shook my head as I tightened the belt of the armor and stuffed Durandal and the red blade into the temporary scabbard.

She seemed to be busy earning Good Karma by treating patients more severely wounded than me, and I didn’t want to interrupt that. Calling her would only make her worry.

“I’ve finished the emergency treatment.”

“Thank you. Indeed, the Church of Saulite is the best when it comes to healing miracles.”

By the time I had completely changed my clothes, their treatment was also finished. Though it was only a temporary measure.

“However, I’ve only aligned the crushed bones; they haven’t completely fused together. If you move recklessly, the bones I’ve set will split again. Understood?”

“Yes, I understand.”

So I’ll need another round of healing after the fight. As long as the battle continues, I can’t avoid moving recklessly.

I nodded casually and dashed back toward the battlefield.

“No, I said don’t run—”

The priestess’s incredulous voice quickly faded into the distance. With every movement of my leg, I could feel the sensation of bone being scraped away, but it was still bearable.

Anyway, as long as I could move properly until I reached my destination and ended the fight, that was all that mattered.

My destination was clear.

“As long as I stand, none of you will pass!”

Roaring at the top of his lungs, not giving an inch to Landenburg’s sword, and even pushing back—a warrior in black armor.

Giran Glar, the champion of the Black Banner Army.

His head was my objective. Having lost Orhan, I needed to at least take him down to break even.

—-

The battlefield I returned to was still in utter chaos, though the direction had completely reversed.

The steppe people who had climbed the wall and engaged in melee were retreating like an ebbing tide as soon as the retreat order was given, and the Imperial forces were trying to hold them back.

Or rather, they were attempting to hold them back. Unfortunately, the Imperial army couldn’t even grab the ankles of the retreating Ka’har.

Not because they were incompetent, but because the Ka’har’s retreat speed was too fast. It almost seemed like they had practiced nothing but this their entire lives.

They say warriors don’t retreat before the enemy, but from what I could see, that saying itself might be misinformation spread by those guys. I’d never seen anyone retreat so efficiently.

I couldn’t help but admire how they slightly bounced the shields on their backs to deflect the rain of arrows aimed at the backs of their heads.

Of course, not all forces had retreated beyond reach yet. To protect the rear of the retreating forces, several warriors including the Champion were still engaged in combat with the Imperial knights.

Their Champion, Glar, was among them.

I whipped my aching leg and lunged toward Glar. He was rampaging like a beast near the ruins of the wall, with his left leg half-burned.

“KAAAAK!”

Heinrich, seemingly out of strength, was kneeling on one knee and trembling, while Heiden was buried in a pile of corpses, twitching.

“I can’t… move anymore…!”

Even Nigel seemed to have reached his limit, barely standing by supporting himself with his spear, which meant that effectively only Joshua was holding Glar back.

“Nigel, are you hurt?”

I pressed down on Nigel’s shoulder to stop him from trying to straighten his back as I spoke to him.

“Huh, who-. Ah, Lord Haschal!”

Perhaps too exhausted to even notice my approach, Nigel flinched in surprise and looked up at me.

“Are you safe, sir?”

“I’m fine. So you should rest a bit. Leave Glar to me.”

I patted Nigel’s shoulder lightly before stepping forward, drawing Durandal from my waist.

“Wait, Lord Haschal. You mustn’t swing your sword at him. All cutting and thrusting attacks are reflected back.”

Nigel urgently tried to stop me.

“Close-range reflection? Or physical reflection? Is that why Joshua is only defending?”

I get it now. No wonder Joshua was only defending while the battle priests were handling all the attacks.

I had wondered why they were fighting so inefficiently, but it seems Joshua couldn’t attack at all due to Glar’s Tale of Heros.

Seeing his vulnerability to wide-area miracles, it must be either a defensive technique that reflects physical damage or a technique that returns attacks targeting him.

…Well, either way, it wasn’t particularly challenging.

I slid Durandal, which I had half-drawn, back into its scabbard and approached Glar, lightly flexing my wrists.

“So I can’t cut him with a sword. In that case, I’ll just burn him.”

The seal engraved on my right wrist glowed with heat.

“Haschal…! You, ungrateful, disloyal traitor…!”

Perhaps sensing my killing intent, Glar turned his head toward me while swinging his curved sword at Joshua, growling with hostility as if facing a lifelong enemy.

What are you going to do about it?

Did you think I would cower just because you glared at me?

I smirked and extended my arm toward him.