Chapter 55

"Rookie, what lap are you on now?"

"T-twenty... twenty-first lap...."

"All right. Then stop there and shoot your rifle all day."

"Aye!"

A week had passed since the transport carrying Yaan and the company had set sail. Irene was already half-dead, but the Penal Corps members showed no mercy in their training.

"Don't scatter your aim points; take whatever stance feels best. Just keep your breathing under control."

"Aye!"

She had already thrown up twice from seasickness. Her eyes were unfocused, and each time she tried to pass out the squad laid into her with merciless blows.

Smack!

"G-guh!?"

"Stay awake, rookie. In real combat that bullet would've hit the spot I just punched."

"Five rounds while shifting stances. Start over from the beginning!"

"Again-!"

Sailors crossing the deck watched Irene's training with looks of utter weariness.

Her limbs trembled from exhaustion, and her focus was almost gone, yet the drills continued.

Any other unit would have found the scene unimaginably brutal.

"She's already emptied one magazine and they're still making her fire...."

Thanks to the relentless training that had begun the moment they left port, Irene's days were spent drilling while the sun was up and collapsing like the dead when it set.

"Abuse disguised as training. As systematic as it is effective-and just as hard on the body."

"She chose it herself. Better to endure this and live than to rot as the lowest rat on the deck."

It wasn't just the danger of the mission.

The Penal Corps guaranteed no more than the barest living space.

Aboard cramped navy vessels, that lack was even harsher.

Violence between squadmates, plagues, and countless other perils.

Unlike the Penal Corps on the Kerdan front, they would be consumed slowly but surely in the ship's deepest holds.

"At least our company keeps non-combat losses to a minimum."

Every battlefield he was sent to was the very front line.

Specifically, the Kerdan front-a muddy morass where goblins that devoured men never stopped pressing forward.

A training regimen born from the know-how and survival tactics of those who had lived through that hell, recorded and refined.

"That's enough! Any more and you'll just shorten the kid's life!"

"Aye!"

"Training's over! Orders from the deputy commander!"

Dandel was compiling it day by day-recording every result his own body learned through trial, error, and combat.

"She's passed out. Breathing's stable."

"Have the doctor check her just in case. How's her progress?"

Unconscious, Irene was carried off to the bunks by the female members.

The squadmates who had overseen her training began offering Dandel their thoughts.

"Her shooting's definitely improving. Her stamina's coming back at a scary rate too."

"For raw strength-looks like she's tapping mana. When she ran the same course as us she started using it without realizing."

"Survival instinct? For her, that's actually efficient."

Until they rendezvoused with the delegation, the off-duty members spent their days training Irene under Dandel's direction and refining the methods.

Irene, receiving focused attention from fifty combat-hardened soldiers.

A sight impossible in any unit except the Greyhounds.

"At this rate she won't be passing out by the time we reach port."

"The fact she's enduring that training at all is a miracle."

"Still a long way to go."

Having said that to the company, Yaan was once again reviewing the imperial order.

"What are you thinking?"

At Ren's quiet question from beside him, Yaan glanced over and then shook the order back and forth with a troubled look.

"The timing of this order. It feels almost too perfect."

"In what way?"

"Five Belkuth knights were at the anchorage. Just as I was about to finish them off, this order arrived-like it was stopping me."

He had thought it might be mere paranoia.

But recalling the Emperor who had seen through his scheme the day they met, Yaan could not dismiss it so easily.

Aside from Cain and Klaus, the Emperor was the only one who knew his grudge.

"The opposite."

"The opposite?"

Yaan looked at Ren, puzzled by her single remark. Seated on the bunk and sipping coffee, Ren spoke without any change in expression.

"Belkuth's aim is either to recruit or to eliminate-two extremes."

"Now that recruitment has failed, the odds are high they'll try to remove me."

Having killed Randel himself, Belkuth would be wary of Yaan no matter the justification.

"The Emperor's order didn't stop your revenge. Quite the opposite."

"...It protected me from Belkuth, you mean?"

Nod.

At Ren's silent confirmation, Yaan clicked his tongue.

Hearing an unwelcome truth firsthand was never pleasant.

"So from the start I was within the Emperor's palm."

What would have happened had the Emperor not sent Klaus and the others?

Alone on the transport, could he have warded off Belkuth's reach?

Had he been killed, could Cain have used it as leverage against Belkuth?

The death of a mere Penal Corps soldier?

"Tch."

Considering his position at the anchorage, Yaan had no choice but to accept it.

No matter how brilliant his record, he was still just an individual.

He was still far from able to confront the vast Belkuth organization head-on.

"Belkuth hasn't completely given up recruiting you. That's the only reason you're still alive after killing Randel."

Only because Belkuth had not yet decided to kill him could Yaan board this ship as a knight.

Checking the roster of Belkuth knights present on every front, Yaan could only grimace at that fact.

***

Boom-!

Central continent. Wasteland.

Between Alfraia and Vailsar, the elite legions clashed blade to blade-there was no place here for infantry.

-Thirty-second armored company annihilated! All units withdraw! Await support from the main-!

The knight's frantic voice spilled from the loudspeaker of the Empire's standard Page colossus.

-Where do you think you're running?

A low, keening wail.

At the beast-like, blood-curdling voice the knight gasped, and the world before his eyes turned black.

Boom-!

"H-hiiick?!"

In an instant a massive colossus loomed before him.

A frame twice the size of the Empire's Page seized the knight's colossus with one hand.

-Wh-where did this thing come from!? It's a monster!?

-Monster?

At the shriek-like cry the giant colossus tilted its head.

Its grotesque, living appearance nearly made the knight lose his mind.

-Indeed... To your eyes I must look a monster.

-P-please, spare me! I'll tell you everything I know, just let me live...!

Just as that desperate plea began-

Crunch!

The lance mounted on the giant colossus's arm pierced straight through the knight's frame.

The lance primarily used by Alfraia's Colossus Four.

It was a massive lance taller than the colossus itself, but when this Frame lifted it, it looked as small as a one-handed sword.

Crunch! Crunch-!

Even after crushing the cockpit flat, the giant colossus continued to pound the colossus with its head, as if its rage was still unspent.

Its entire body dyed red as if covered in blood, it buried its face in the collapsed colossus's abdomen like a beast devouring its prey's entrails, shrieking madly.

- Me! Me! Do I look like a monster to you!? That's right! I am a monster! A monster who lost everything because of you bastards!

The colossus twisted its head like a madman.

Behind it, dozens of colossi that had struggled and vanished like the knight moments ago were heaped up like a mountain.

"I still haven't forgotten. That sight!"

The elf clenched his teeth in the cockpit and muttered so. Gone was the arrogance he'd shown before, gone even the haughtiness of his first battle-his eyes now blazed with vengeance for one man alone.

"Yaan... Verkut...!"

The monster of Vailsar who'd killed his comrade and shown overwhelming terror.

The humans' behavior, acting as if they didn't know him, made him sick to his stomach.

- Come out! I'm here! The knight you let live has returned as a monster like you-!

The red colossus shouted through the loudspeaker. Behind it, three signal flares fired from the Elf Kingdom's camp were shining.

"Haha! Finally!"

Signal flares meant for him, who'd stepped onto the battlefield alone.

Their meaning was clear.

'Target detected.'

Kerdan front. Alfraia frontline fortress.

The orc guarding the warp gate's main gate bowed deeply to the hooded man approaching slowly.

"Sir Knight! Welcome back!"

"Commander, Karrel will be inside, won't he?"

"H-he's been waiting for you, Sir Knight!"

"Understood. Open it."

When the knight whose face was hidden by the hood spoke thus, the orc nodded and opened the gate.

Snow had already begun to pile up at the Kerdan front in the northern continent.

"A snowfield. Perfect for burying that monster."

The elf murmured so and eventually made his way toward the frontline base.

The frontline base he'd returned to after several months had a relaxed atmosphere, like the front had entered a lull.

He didn't like it, but the hooded man gave no sign of it as he walked toward the commander's office.

"Delranel!"

Karrel, commander of the Kerdan frontline base, brightened at seeing a friend he'd not met in months.

"I heard you were summoned by the Saint King. They say you've been achieving incredible results...!"

Karrel's words trailed off mid-sentence. It was right after seeing Delranel's face when he removed his hood.

"D-Delranel. What is this...?"

His entire face was covered in blood vessels.

His skin had turned black, the whites of his eyes red, giving him the appearance of a demon.

"When is the Frame bestowed by the Saint King expected to arrive?"

A flat, emotionless voice reached his ears.

Not the arrogance of their first meeting, nor the resolute voice after losing comrades, nor the terrified voice when fleeing the monster-just a mechanical, lifeless voice.

Hearing it, Karrel couldn't believe the elf before him was Delranel.

"D-Delranel..."

"Answer the question. Karrel."

Karrel swallowed dryly at the shocking change, then answered the question in a trembling voice.

"It-it left the front, so it should arrive in a week. I've ordered the orcs to prepare maintenance."

"Then where is the enemy's location?"

After nodding once, the question followed immediately.

"It hasn't been confirmed yet. But if we wait at the relay point, we'll definitely encounter him."

"That's what we must do."

Karrel's words, full of certainty. On his desk lay a photo of a man waiting at the port.

"If the informant lied, I'll find him and tear him apart."

Having spoken thus, Delranel nodded in satisfaction at the photo, then pulled his hood back up.

"Finally, I'll meet him again."

Saying so, Delranel stepped out of the office.

The face hidden beneath the hood wore a twisted grin of pure hatred.

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