“The enemy’s no easy meal—they’re crafty, cling like burrs, and they pick things up and use them on the spot. I’ll give it to them, they copy clean. If the Old Ancestor weren’t here, we’d have walked right into it,” Milia said with a smile.

Medith’s faint smile folded away. She looked up at the dying light like embers in a brazier, drew out a pocket watch cracked like ice, and pinned a plan in her heart.

...

“Hahaha—soldiers, warriors! Raise your steel, and let your voices climb the night! Tonight both sides won’t sleep. But we’re the ones riding the surge, and the Radiant Knights will be the ones howling.

“A petty band of mercs dares style itself a ‘knightly order’! They don’t know what that title carries, or how it crushes those unworthy.

“Ragged farm levies who don’t know the shape of justice—calling themselves knights!

“In three days, by the banner of right, we’ll seize and behead this arrogant crew to the last.

“For Emperor Paris! For Eunomia—!”

Clive slammed his iron fist to his brow like a hammer to an anvil. The men roared back, morale blazing. “Oooh—For Eunomia—!”

“Yaaah—!”

...

High in Dawnlight Castle, the oval table spread like a pale lake. Seats once taken by a handful now brimmed with bodies; the whole company’s captains and sub-captains had gathered. The old rule—no sub-captains in high council—no longer mattered.

“As you see, our situation is bleak—one slim life in ten. You saw what happened at dusk. Cracks from within have started to show.

“Our supply lines and retreat were cut like tendons. No one’s coming to help. A breakout’s a dream. With their numbers and steel, the moment our gate swings, we die like wheat under the scythe.

“Their commander’s sharp. He plays to strength, dodges weakness. He won’t even waste men on an assault. A few Bonecrusher Arrows each day, and look at us—shattered pottery on a shelf.

“He pays not a single life. Truth is, this lies on me. I never planned for an invasion from another crown...

“Medith—It’s not that I wanted her gone. She had to go. We have no other move. Even if she stayed and propped us up for a moment, how long could we hold?

“Marked by a kingdom, what road is left to run?

“I had to be the villain. I have to drag you into the fire. Only then can we keep Medith safe, keep the Radiant Knights from ruin.

“If Medith is drawn in, if Commander Felica is drawn in, this becomes a war of scorched earth, not a ‘dispute.’

“When I say I’ll be the villain, it cuts both ways—for Medith, and for us...

“So, I called you here not to draft a grand plan. Not to shove blame around.

“I’m sorry. My choice dragged you all in. I can’t repay it in this life. If there’s another, I’ll wade through boiling water for you without a second thought.” Gerald finished, and two bright tears slid like melted glass.

The room’s hearts knotted. Gerald’s self-reproach and rage fell like a mountain, and Gulo’s hands shook; his throat clogged. He was no longer the timid “new recruit” from that first day.

Since then he had fought, bled, and honed himself, chasing a single heroic back through smoke and wind.

Now that mountain stood before him again. He could tell her, I may not cross you, but I can climb your face.

He would never forget that night—Medith’s light steps like drifting snow, her graceful form, her voice like a skylark at dawn.

And the faint warm scent that lingered in his palm.

“I... share the blame. I won’t ask for forgiveness. Commander Gerald, your kindness is a mountain on my back. Everyone here, without exception, is my brother for this life. You carried me across the hardest road.

“Do it again, and I’d step the same path. I’d join the Dawnlight branch again!” Gulo’s voice burned. He drove his fist into the marble, and the stone split with a hairline crack.

“Captain Gulo, Commander Gerald, no more words. I joined the Radiant Knights for the same reason Gulo did at first. I was born to a farm. Then I saw a ranger-knight lance a Mountain Bandit clean through.

“That horse spun like a whirlwind. That figure cut the dust like an arrow. I knew my life had found its mark.

“My childhood dream was a knight’s oath. But in the kingdom, knights are rich or noble. For a low-born farmer like me, that gate might as well be the sky.

“Until—I joined this ‘cut-rate knight order’ made of a bunch of ‘fools.’” The man was about twenty-seven or eight, rugged with stubble like thorns, and he laughed with rough pride.

His words struck the room like flint. Fists rose, drifting toward the center.

“Justice will prevail—!”

The shout hit as one. Fists drew back like waves.

Norris let his fist fall. His handsome young face had shed its anger. In its place lay helplessness and a long sigh. “Why do we have to face this?

“I don’t blame you, Commander, or anyone here. Not even Medith and the others. I’ve made my peace.

“But isn’t it all a little too neat? Too tidy?

“Why? Why us? Why must we carry this?”

The question gripped every throat like a cold hand. It was the doubt buried deepest. It was the crack every creed fears.

Start thinking it, and your faith overturns like a cart in a flood. It’s the line between a person and a ghost.

Even Medith won’t pick at that thread on the field. She’s seen too much. She’s met more ‘why us’ than most.

“‘Why’ is the weak roaring at the strong’s sky. To the strong, it’s only a beaten dog’s bark. It only feeds their pride.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Blame me. I’m too weak. I couldn’t shield you. This world is tooth and claw. It’s that cold and that cruel...” Gerald’s voice was a low wind.

“Go rest. Fill your lungs. We still have a tomorrow.”

“Yes. We definitely have a tomorrow.”

Hearts answered as one.

“Do we... really have a tomorrow?

“My tomorrow... I’m not alone. I still have them. I can’t die. I can’t die...” No one saw it—when one captain turned away, the set of his jaw hardened, as if he’d tossed something priceless behind him...

...

Firelight leaped like foxes. Harrison smiled and drew a brand-new pocket watch from his breast. The tick-tock carved time in silver, and it pleased him. The nobles who lifted Paris to the throne were well rewarded.

This was one such prize. A thing too modern for this age. To the continent, a rare gem. Nobles chased them like stags, ready to empty vaults for one, just to leave a bauble that made descendants gasp at their name.

“Thanatos... what are they busy with? With that kind of strength...” Harrison frowned. Anyone could see it—the Western Kingdom’s Thanatos outpaced this world’s steel and fire by ages.

Yet since the Year of Chaos, they never dipped a hand in the chessboard of power. It was as if what happened here did not touch them. As if they were a shadow from another plane, and the continent was the room the shadow fell across. They showed silhouettes, but never stepped through the wall.

“Come to think of it, I’ve heard His Majesty murmur of ‘the board,’ ‘my fate,’ ‘this is the only way.’ Is that tied to the Western mists?” The more Harrison probed, the colder his skin prickled.

It felt like parting fog on a cliff. As the mist thinned, a colossal outline reared up. Just sketching its shape in his mind made his heart lurch.

“Duke Harrison, Dawnlight can’t hold.” A deep, magnetic voice tugged him back. Harrison shook his head, wiped the cold sweat from his brow, and looked at Clive in surprise.

Clive bowed and offered a simple letter, already unsealed.

“When Hell’s gate yawns at midnight, the rear gate will open. I’ll clear the way. Please show mercy and spare my life.

“I’ll loose a flaming arrow as the sign. My red-stained body will be hard to miss in this night.”

The words were few, but their weight made Harrison’s joy flare. He laughed loud. “So, they’re not one iron plate after all!

“So high and noble in their speeches. So stiff-necked in their posture. Had me thinking they were a real knightly order!”

Clive let out a cold snort, dripping scorn. “Hmph. In the end they’re still mercs risking life for coin. Self-deluded. Crown themselves ‘Radiant Knights’ and believe it.

“Look—your ‘knight’ is ready to stick a knife in his own brother’s back.”

Backstabbers are vermin to both sides. The stabbed speaks for itself. And the side they run to?

Who knows when they’ll slip a blade into you?

In our ranks, such men are tools. Use them, then cut them down. No debate.

Still, he was only trading favors. Most likely a coward who wants to barter his comrades’ lives for a breath more of his own. Clive despised that too. A soldier has honor in death, not shame in life. But men like that aren’t even soldiers.

“Hah—” Harrison breathed out, long and calm. He didn’t think this was an enemy smokescreen. And if it was, so what?

“Order the army to stand ready. When the signal burns, we sprint for the rear gate. Looks like we won’t be waiting days.”

He stretched his limbs, pleasure easing his face.

Clive took the order and walked off light. First campaign, and already a clean kill. Skill or not, the tempering was real. After this, Emperor Paris would remember him well. The road ahead glittered.

...

“By my count, it’s about time. By three at the latest, a piece of Dawnlight will crack,” Medith told them. Spirits rose like banners; they’d clearly had their rest.

“Why? Isn’t their defense tight?” Sais asked without thinking.

Milia answered at once. “From the inside. No matter how tough the hide, it can’t stand when the bones rot.”