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Chapter 364
When You Let Go and Come
The comfort received from Olivia was effective.
Fundamentally, nothing was resolved, but there was no heavy emotion that couldn't be lifted as usual.
'Probably won't die from my Circle breaking.'
But would it help in battle?
That part weighed on his mind.
W̆ ë b nó v̀ е l̇_ Е̄ n um̈ӑ
The large monsters to face numbered over 10, and the medium monsters exceeded 10 times that.
They ran mock battles with few numbers and would have built their own strategies.
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In tomorrow's battle, one must not think medium monsters will fall like last time.
Magitech weapons will shine, but solving everything with just that was impossible.
Blocking the emerging variables was the mages' share.
Ferda was one of those mages.
Е.n̊ŭ m̀ӓ .і̆ d
How many enemies could he kill and block using magic while harboring a precarious Circle?
His chest felt stifling, pointlessly suffocating.
He couldn't stand being inside.
It felt like voices would creep up in the silence and gnaw at Ferda's mind.
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"Alright, for tomorrow! Let's wrap up today well!"
The merchant's characteristic lively voice boosted morale.
Е̄ n̆ um̈ȧ .іḋ
Cars bearing the Pascal Trading Company mark were unloading goods.
It was a lot for a day's rations, and luxurious items kept coming out one after another.
At the unidentified items, Ferda asked.
"Are you the Regent-nim?"
"That's right."
"The Company Head sent supplies to encourage the soldiers. He wishes for Hestia's complete victory and spent his own money to send supplies to the entire army."
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"Stefan Pascal..."
They were items not particularly requested.
Because the Pascal Trading Company belonged to the Empire, he didn't want to forcibly entangle them and put them in a difficult spot.
Yet the fact they helped meant they were willing to take the risk and join hands.
It was help given when most needed, so how could he not be glad?
"Nothing to say. Only words of thanks..."
Е n̊ ūm̄а
"Wouldn't that be enough?"
Right, it might be enough.
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Let's think about what comes after later.
Since he gained the driving force to hold out until tomorrow, he thought he could get through today safely too.
He just hoped this peaceful atmosphere would continue.
-You fucking bastard! Stop with the useless stubbornness and get out of my sight!
Е̄n̄ um.á
While walking along,
The voices of Valdrova Castle's knights rang out loudly.
With an important decisive battle ahead, thinking discord had erupted, he casually walked over there.
At the place used as a makeshift training ground, knights made fed-up faces and withdrew.
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The man who received the abuse lay sprawled in the center.
'Malcolm.'
Е̊n̆ů mа̇ . і́ d̄
Malcolm of Pitch Hill.
The man who became the second knight at Valdrova Castle.
In terms of rank, he was the second highest in this castle, but a man who had been eaten alive by his juniors.
'No wonder.'
He was an Imperial Court Knight, but an ironic sort far from being a knight.
In appearance, swordsmanship, every aspect, he couldn't be called knight-like.
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Many openly ignored him, and Ferda was aware of it too.
But no one dared step forward.
There's nothing more shameful than a superior directly meddling in a knight's affairs.
So this time too, he tried to pass by pretending not to know.
-What kind of knight are you? You half-witted thing!
-You illegitimate child who doesn't even know where you rolled in from!
Ê ñuṁa
Suddenly, Ferda's own past came to mind.
In the noble world, illegitimate children were occasionally, subtly common existences.
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To noble ladies, they were no different from other people's children, so they were hostile, but the siblings often built friendship from childhood and got along as friends.
In such a world, Ferda's brothers were far too hostile.
Did they know he wasn't just half-blooded but truly a cuckoo child?
'If I'd realized that meaning a bit sooner...'
Е̌ ṅ um̃а
He would've given up on trying to be acknowledged as a knight.
Ferda eventually put down the sword and awakened to magic.
That appearance overlapped with Malcolm.
Inwardly, he just wished he would put down the sword.
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But Malcolm was an even more stubborn fool than his past self.
He picked up the sword again.
Е̇ǹu m̂ā.і d̃
With his other hand, he desperately wiped away sniffled tears.
"Malcolm."
His name came from Ferda's mouth.
For some reason, his body turned toward him.
Malcolm flinched and turned his head.
"Uh, Regent Ferda-nim? I greet you..."
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With his clueless personality, he belatedly bowed his head and performed knightly courtesy.
"Your clothes got quite dirty."
"Ah, this is nothing."
He scratched his head and evaded.
He didn't bring up what kind of treatment he'd received.
"Practicing sword?"
Ѐ n̆.ú m ã
"Yes, at least if close combat happens, piercing with something sharp would be better..."
"Shotgun?"
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"Tried to fire one shot but the recoil was worse than expected... I'd probably drop it after one shot. This is preparation for that."
"I see."
Neither Ferda nor Malcolm could say anything.
Only talk about the uncomfortable situation from earlier kept creeping up.
Е̄ ǹ ü mа
"Aren't you afraid?"
"Not afraid. If a knight fears this, what would we do? Haha!"
He tried to brush it off with an awkward laugh, but Ferda couldn't.
"I'm not asking for your splendid knightly bearing. Malcolm. Speak honestly."
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"I..."
If it were the usual Malcolm, he'd have denied it to the end.
W еb n̆ŏ v̀ӗ l Еn̆ üm̈ а̌
But right now, even that stubbornness didn't seem to rise.
"Of course... I'm afraid."
His gaze dropped lower and lower to the floor.
"I felt it watching those monsters. If caught by them, I'll die."
Strength entered his hand gripping the sword.
"Still, other knights would take a few monsters as companions to the afterlife, but I don't even have that ability."
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Veins bulged and he trembled.
"Acknowledged as an Imperial Knight, yet I'm still just dead weight..."
Chicken-shit tears drop, drop.
"Still, since there's someone who acknowledges me, I thought I'd try hard for that person too... but even that's not working out."
Malcolm was a hard worker.
He failed every time, but one could never say he didn't try.
Е̊n̄ù m а . і̄d̄
Even though he often heard he was a disaster among technicians, one couldn't bring themselves to hate him.
Because Malcolm always did his best to understand their words.
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But that's his nature, what can you do?
Such a man didn't suit this battlefield.
"Malcolm."
"Yes."
Е̄n̆ uma
"Go back to your hometown."
"...Huh?"
Malcolm blinked.
"Exactly as said. Leave this land and return to your hometown. I'll give you a generous reward enough to live without envy in your hometown. With that money, spend your remaining life peacefully. This is the last order I can give."
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He makes a dumbfounded expression.
With deserters still hanging on ropes, an order to leave the battlefield drops.
Е n u m̌ а . і̃d̄
"Ah, y-yeah... right? Since I'm no help, it's better if I just disappear."
Malcolm smiles bitterly as if understanding.
But the more the smile deepens, the more moisture rises.
Betrayal in his heart pierced his chest.
"It's not because you're useless."
Ferda corrected the misunderstanding.
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"You've achieved a great deal. If you die here, it'd be me doing a terrible thing to you."
"What achievements did I make?"
He asks with a face that truly doesn't understand.
"Do you remember what you did in the fortress defense battle?"
"Yes, ran away like crazy..."
"You led monsters with your life on the line so everyone could be safe. How about the World Tree?"
Enum̄ а
"Then too, ran away like crazy..."
"What did you do in the process?"
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"Rescued... elves."
"Because those rescued elves helped in the defense, we got an opening. Even so, can you say you have no achievements?"
"Tha...t's right."
A face surprised that it connects like this.
E n u m̌а̂
But inwardly, he didn't seem convinced.
"You're a fool, but that doesn't mean you're useless. You're already one of Hestia's pillars. So I don't want to lose you on this battlefield."
He just hoped he'd accept it and withdraw.
Couldn't see his expression in his lowered head.
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"If you call me a pillar, why are you trying to pull the pillar out?"
>
E n̄ùm̃ а . і̇d
Like getting hit in the back of the head.
A sharp point that couldn't be believed to come from Malcolm.
"Regent-nim said my dying is a terrible thing. But for me, leaving everyone here behind is just as terrible. Hestia villagers, my comrades, they're all like family to me."
"Even those who threw abuse at you until just now?"
Malcolm flinches in surprise.
He didn't seem to think Ferda saw that.
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"That's... true, I was a nuisance. Asked them to watch my swordsmanship more. Kept making the same mistake, so they'd be annoyed."
He tried to brush it off calmly like it's nothing.
"Still, you have real family in Pitch Hill, don't you?"
"Haha... in Pitch Hill, there was no one to call family. Was an orphan from birth, grew up eating side-eye rice."
He said with an awkward laugh.
Hearing he ate side-eye rice, empathy only grew.
Wе̌_b n̈о̊ṽӗ l Е̊n̊ ǔ m а̄
"And above all..."
He thinks of something.
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Caught in that thought, a smile naturally spreads on his face.
"When I return to my hometown, I at least want to return as a knight. Made a promise."
"What promise?"
"In our village, there's a pretty girl named Jenny. By now she must've become a stunning beauty. She said this to me."
W̊ ẽ b̊ n̈o v̆ė l̂ Е̄ n̈ ǔ ṁ а
He spoke in an excited voice.
"'If you return as a famous knight, I'll accept your heart.'"
"I see."
"So to see Jenny again, I must be knight-like. Make a big splash in this defense battle, return to my hometown... bringing Jenny back is my goal!"
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Ferda could see through that woman Jenny's intention.
A lie thrown to shake off a man clinging annoyingly.
Еṅ u_m̀ а
How could Malcolm, a country bumpkin above all, become a knight?
'But he did it.'
A man whose every gesture is rustic, terrible at swordsmanship and tactics.
Yet his indomitable spirit was highly valued.
'No, even more amazing than me.'
What Ferda couldn't achieve, he ultimately did.
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At this moment, Ferda just wished Malcolm would see it through to the end.
"Then don't forcibly grip the sword."
Ferda said so.
"If I don't grip the sword, what should I do?"
"Do what you're good at."
"What I'm good at... bait again?"
Ӗ n̈um а̇
"Knights cut one enemy and save ten behind. Then you jump into that battlefield and save them directly. When others cut ten, you save a hundred. Then wouldn't that be a knightly achievement?"
Rather than swordsmanship he couldn't master even taught a hundred times, jumping in directly.
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Malcolm's expression changed at Ferda's logic.
Seemed convinced by those words.
"Then how many should I save?"
"Knights will take out about thirty..."
Еn̆ů m̀ӑ.і̊ ď
"Then I need to save 300... right."
300. 300...
Malcolm, repeating it, felt the heavy burden in his heart disappearing.
He placed a hand on his chest and forcibly held back rising tears.
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"Malcolm of Pitch Hill. *Gasp*! I will never disappoint Regent Ferda-nim."
Ferda distanced himself from Malcolm like that.
Е́ n u̇m̃ ӑ
He thought back on his own words.
300 people probably impossible, right?
Even saving 100, he thought he'd be fulfilling his duty enough.
Ferda welcomed that last day like that.
* * *
A long, long week passed.
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Before dawn even broke, the leadership climbed the Command Tower and busily moved to check the command system's status.
The one selected as Communications Officer was Isabella.
She reported to Mori, the Supreme Commander.
"Command system normal. Representatives from each region are standing by in the defense zones."
"Understood. Then I'll check communications. Number 4."
-Southern Alliance, communications normal.
Ё n̄ û m a
"Number 3."
-Western Expeditionary Force, communications normal.
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"Number 2."
-Alte Knight Order, communications normal.
"Number 1."
-Far East Alliance, communications normal.
Е ǹ ǔm̊ ȧ
"All units stand by for orders. 4 hours until battle start. Everyone wait at your positions."
Communication status check complete.
Mori cut communications and checked tactical equipment status.
"How's the Dwarven army's weapon condition?"
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"All prepared in top condition. They even did breaking-in work day and night, so they boast no defects."
"Are the dummy bombs okay too?"
Ё_n ů_mа
"100 prepared. They'll find optimal paths to be eaten first by medium monsters and explode inside."
"Do you think that'll happen?"
"That gloomy witch is unpleasant, but she's skilled. Recently she was discouraged because one doll disappeared..."
Eve.
She seems to have safely escaped here and gone somewhere.
Where could she have gone with that body made of mana stones?
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Once, she was a personality that was himself, so her safety was worried about.
'Worrying now won't do any good.'
Mori suppressed personal feelings and focused on the present.
As a Sage freed from slavery, she would protect this place.
"Understood."
"Since I've done everything this perfectly, please call me Older Sister—."
Ẇeb́ ňоv̊ѐ l En̂ûḿ ȧ
"I'll pass."
Mori narrowed her eyes and glared at Isabella.
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Felt like a nail was driven into her chest.
'Why does she hate me this much?'
Isabella couldn't understand.
Though she occasionally hugged her and slept when drunk.
Èñum а̄ . і̆ ḋ
Fondled her as she pleased.
Even launched endless affection offensives!
She thought there was no element to be hated.
"Now what's left..."
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Checked everything per the list, but felt empty.
Mori raised her eyes and looked around.
W̄ е b̂ n̈ оv̄èl̊ Е n̆ ǔ m̊ a
One person missing.
The most important figure in this war.
"Where is Regent Ferda-nim?"
* * *
At that time, Ferda was at the entrance of Lonely Mountain.
He paused briefly and looked up at it.
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A familiar place, yet unfamiliar sensation.
That sensation evoked past memories.
'Back then too, it was this unfamiliar.'
Hostile Ruri.
The dry, warm cave she led him into.
Here, he spoke with Valdrova through Ruri, and later even proceeded to engagement.
Ěn u ṁ а̊ .ї ď
Matters that will now become mere memories.
Ferda carried those memories and went inside.
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Now is the time to lay them down and return.
