SOTBW - 75

Maximón stared at her with a dreadful expression, but the darkness around them hid the grimace on his face. He wanted to get Najane off the battlefield immediately. This place was a hell that would slowly drain her life away.

But the even more horrifying truth was that he was the one who had brought her here.

Maximón was certain that unless he quickly thought of another way, he would lose Najane. That could not happen. He didn’t want to lose her like this. If there was no other solution, he would cut her tendons so she could never fight again. If it meant keeping her by his side for as long as possible, he would not hesitate to do it.

“This is Recheo’s domain. You don’t need to fight.”

He spoke calmly, forcing the words out.

But Najane shook her head, as though disagreeing.

“I was the only knight at the rear.”

“Still, don’t get involved.”

“But…”

“Please!”

Maximón’s voice rose. Dozens of eyes shifted toward them before scattering. Startled, Najane instinctively gripped her sacred sword and took a step back from him. She slowly retreated, inching closer to Belshua.

Maximón, however, moved closer to Najane. He grabbed her shoulder and desperately said,

“Please, don’t leave your position, Najane. This is an order. Let Recheo handle things here.”

His green eyes pushed her for an answer. Najane lowered her gaze, nodding slowly. Obeying him was the best choice.

This was a battlefield. She was a knight of Romsoa, so it was right to follow Maximón’s orders. Only then did Maximón release his grip on her.

“Commander, you should return now.”

Belshua, clearing away the corpses, spoke quietly. Maximón gazed at Najane for a moment before reluctantly picking up his sword. Najane watched them both head toward the frontlines before lowering her eyes.

The field was littered with the bodies of the undead. While Najane and Maximón had been talking, Belshua had been clearing them out. It was then that Najane realized where she was standing and hurried back to her original position.

She had captured a Serith for the first time... It wasn’t because she wanted praise, but in a way, she wanted to show Maximón that she, too, could fight at the frontlines, just like the other knights. She wanted him to see that she could now handle a Serith.

But honestly, it was just luck this time. She had won against a Serith that was nearly dead.

Najane spent a long, cold night in the rear, guarding her position. At times, she wondered if there was any point in being a knight, but upon reflection, what mattered to her wasn’t fighting Serith but securing a solid position to find Luna.

Yes, if she were to get hurt trying to help others...

She felt guilty, as though she was doing something cowardly. But she forced herself to shake off the thought as she hacked through the thick body of an undead.

________________________________________

The next morning, the Romsoa knights entrusted the mercenaries with cleaning up the field and left. Jacob remained behind with a few knights, counting the number of fallen soldiers. The knights, discussing the hardships of the battle, headed back to their quarters.

Najane walked slowly behind them, her hands still tingling as she clenched and unclenched her stiff palms. Daniel, walking leisurely beside her, spoke with concern.

“Why, does something hurt? Your palms look scraped.”

Daniel glanced at her palms, which had grown rough with calluses. There were no visible wounds. Najane rubbed her aching hands and calmly lied.

“I think it’s just from the cold. My hands got a bit frozen.”

“Let me see. Oh my, your fingertips are turning blue! You fought like this? Did you fight without gloves?”

“I wear gloves, but they’re a bit big, so they’re uncomfortable. Whenever I have a moment, I take them off and tighten them, but…”

“Wow, you even had the time to take your gloves off? Sounds like the rear is perfect for leisurely fighting, huh?”

Before Najane could finish speaking, a knight interrupted. Her face flushed at the comment. She regretted speaking up. Seeing her embarrassment, Daniel scowled and slapped the knight’s hand away with his own.

“Don’t be sarcastic, Ashton. Najane fought two Serith in the rear yesterday.”

At that, Ashton pouted.

“I’m not being sarcastic, I’m just envious. I didn’t have time to wipe my nose, even though it was frozen and dangling from my nostrils.”

Najane gave a bitter smile at Ashton’s grumbling. In truth, Ashton’s situation was the norm. Everyone else fought without a moment to breathe, constantly fearing when they might be attacked by the undead. But Najane didn’t find it that difficult.

If she used her sword energy too much, she would be drained and pass out, but thanks to the mercenaries contracted with the knights, the days when she had to fight to the point of exhaustion were decreasing. At first, she used her sword energy constantly, as if swinging a whip, but now doing so was even a hindrance to the soldiers.

Honestly, her stamina was running low, but it was just manageable. Najane was capable enough to hunt boars, so dealing with chickens didn’t leave her utterly exhausted. That’s why she couldn’t argue when Ashton criticized her. She felt quite embarrassed by it.

Daniel, sensing the complicated emotions on Najane’s face, quickly pushed Ashton forward as if to hurry him along. It was a signal for Ashton to go ahead, but Ashton stubbornly kept pace with Najane.

“So when are you going to the frontlines?”

Ashton’s innocent question made Najane smile awkwardly.

“…I’m not sure, I’m not really….”

“You’d better get out of the rear support position before it’s too late. Otherwise, others will start gossiping about you.”

“Ashton! Stop it!”

In the end, Daniel raised his voice. Ashton glared at Daniel with a look of disbelief before moving ahead. Najane, gazing at the group of knights walking ahead, cautiously asked Daniel.

“Do the other knights have experience fighting on the frontlines?”

Najane’s question carried a hint of anxiety.

Daniel cursed Ashton in his mind and reluctantly answered.

“Jacob, Belshua, and I always fight alongside the Commander, so we’re always at the frontlines. The others rotate between the frontlines, the center, the rear, and the walls.”

“…So, I’ve been spending an unusually long time in the rear.”

Najane muttered sadly, and Daniel waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t mind what Ashton said. Most of the Romsoa knights are former soldiers, so they have plenty of battlefield experience. But you’re not like them. You’ve only just started, how could you go full speed?”

“Were you a soldier too?”

“I’m not. Despite how I look, I’m nobility.”

“…You?”

“Wait, what’s that look you’re giving me?”

Daniel was about to say he was from Luamars but quickly shut his mouth. He didn’t really want to brag about it. Fortunately, Najane laughed at Daniel’s playful reaction. Seeing her expression ease, Daniel felt relieved as well.

“What about Belshua?”

Najane asked again. Daniel squinted and tilted his head.

“Belshua? Well, I think he joined as a soldier. I can’t really remember.”

Just then, a voice answered from behind them.

“I was recommended by the Holy Church, so I’ve been a knight from the start.”

It was Belshua who responded. Daniel, startled, let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his chest.

“Ah, you scared me! Make some noise when you’re around! How long have you been there?”

Najane slowed her pace and turned to look at Belshua.

“The Holy Church recommends knights too?”

“If you pay a lot of bribes.”

Najane was taken aback by the unexpected answer. Daniel whispered quietly into her ear.

“His father is a super successful merchant in the royal city. That’s why Belshua handles all the Romsoa accounts.”

“Ah... so even the Holy Church accepts bribes?”

Najane expressed her astonishment genuinely. Of course, the claim that Belshua was the son of a merchant was a lie fabricated by the Holy Church.

Daniel interlaced his fingers and placed them on the back of his head, turning to Belshua with a question.

“What about the Commander?”

“Still in the field.”

“Seems like he’s busy today.”

“I think he’s talking with the Phylonos Mercenaries.”

The three of them, weary, walked toward the building where the Romsoa Knight Order was stationed. However, the knights walking ahead suddenly stopped in their tracks. Daniel, puzzled, raised his heel.

From the front gate of the Knight’s headquarters, they could hear some noise. While they couldn’t make out the details of the conversation, it sounded like someone was causing a disturbance.

Daniel’s expression slightly twisted. There were few people bold enough to cause trouble in Romsoa, led by Maximón. If anyone were daring enough, it would probably be someone like Lucas. But occasionally, such people did show up at Romsoa. They would wail, shout, and curse in front of the gates.

Belshua let out a sigh, as if he knew what was going on. Najane, curious about what was happening, moved past the knights and walked forward. Several guards were roughly pushing a disheveled woman away. She had clearly been in a scuffle, her appearance bruised and battered.

Najane looked on in shock at the woman, who was crying out in distress. She couldn’t understand why the guards were acting so violently. As Najane stepped forward to intervene, Daniel blocked her path.

“Don’t go, Najane. You won’t be able to reason with her. Right now, she just wants to grab anyone and cry or yell.”

“Do you know her?”

“Not likely. She’s probably the family of a soldier who died in the field.”

Najane’s expression faltered at those words. The guards, noticing the returning knights, waved their hands to quickly move the woman away. The guards dug their nails into the dirt as they desperately dragged her along the ground. Bloodstains were left in her wake as she was dragged along the road.

The knights, seemingly accustomed to such scenes, passed through the front gate without a care. Daniel and Belshua were no different.

But Najane couldn’t bring herself to leave. The woman, while being beaten with a baton, clung to one of the guards’ pant legs and screamed in desperation. The sound felt as though it shackled Najane’s legs with chains.

“Please, at least let me find my son’s body. Please, I beg you. He’s only fourteen. I just want to send him off with woollen socks. I’m begging you, please, please...”

Fourteen years old. So young. But the boy soldiers dragged into the war by Nox were usually around that age. Soldiers who returned to the field with their humanity and adult virtues stripped away expected the boy soldiers to pull their weight, but those children were far too young and inexperienced for such burdens.

So many young soldiers had died, becoming living shields in the field, that there were no more spaces left in the mass grave. Najane had witnessed such scenes countless times in the field. Fortunately, thanks to the mercenaries, the number of young soldiers sent to the front lines had decreased, and the period for their training had been extended. But it seemed that the woman’s son had been sacrificed before that could happen.