Chapter 262 – The Battle for Frontier City Akela (10): The Recognition

Chapter 262

The Battle for Frontier City Akela (10): The Recognition

Date : Day 18 of Firstthaw 1024 Aethellgard Concord Year.

Hyoren slowly walked closer.

Each step felt heavier than the last. The noise of the gate, the crying, the moaning, the shouts for stretchers, all of it seemed to belong to another world.

Reon was still kneeling beside her father.

She had stopped screaming. Her voice had gone hoarse and broken, and now she was only muttering, over and over, in a small, cracked whisper that barely carried.

"My fault… it's my fault… it's my fault…"

Her hands were still clutching her father's sleeve. Her knuckles were white. Her round face was swollen and blotched red from crying, smeared with dirt and tears and someone else's blood.

Her party stood around her, unsure what to do.

Rina, their scout, stood a few steps back with her short bow still slung across her back. She was quiet, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes fixed on Reon without blinking. The young swordsman with two blades at his hips had turned his face up toward the sky. His jaw was clenched tight, and his throat kept working as he swallowed again and again, trying not to cry. The young mage girl clutched her small red-orb wand against her chest with one hand. Her other hand kept reaching toward Reon's shaking back, then stopping just short. Then reaching again. Then stopping. As if she were afraid that if she touched her, Reon would shatter.

As Hyoren came closer, he could see Ronald clearly.

The veteran lay on his back on the tarp. His face was almost peaceful. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted, his gray-streaked beard matted with dried blood. If not for the stillness of his chest and the waxy pallor of his skin, he might have been sleeping.

But the tarp beneath him told another story.

It was soaked through. Dark, sticky red had spread out from under his body in a wide pool, staining the canvas and seeping into the mud around its edges. His armor was slick with it.

From the front, the wounds were barely visible. One small, ragged hole in the left side of his chest, between the ribs. Two more in his abdomen, one on the left and one on the right. Dark, torn openings in his armor and the gambeson beneath, their edges crusted with dried blood.

But Hyoren could tell at a glance where they had come from.

They didn't start at the front.

They had come from behind. Something had been driven into his back, through his body and out the front. Three times. Blades or spears thrust with enough force to punch clean through a grown man.

He hadn't been attacked from the front. He had turned his back on his enemies and taken those blows with his own body.

As if he had thrown himself between someone and the weapons meant for them.

Hyoren's crimson-tinged vision shifted as his Magic Eyes : Diagnostic Sight activated on its own.

State: Dead. Cause of death: Hemorrhagic shock. Three puncture wounds: left lung; spleen and left kidney; liver. 

Hyoren read it. Then read it again.

The analytical part of his mind, the part that had studied medicine in another world, processed it automatically, coldly. A punctured lung, blood filling the chest cavity, each breath drowning him. The spleen and kidney, two of the most blood-rich organs in the body. The liver, massive and vascular, impossible to stop once it was opened.

Any one of those could have killed him…

His fists clenched.

All three… There was nothing anyone could have done… Not a high-grade healing potion... Not Healing Light… Not even Sherine…

He was only a few steps away when one of the three veterans standing over the body turned and noticed him.

Terry.

The lanky archer of Ironclad Guardian. The man who had ridden all night as a night rider, circling the goblin camp in the dark, and then ridden out again today as cavalry. His face was gray with exhaustion and grief. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His longbow hung forgotten from one hand.

"Hyoren…"

His voice was rough and quiet.

Hyoren clenched his jaw so hard it ached.

"What… happened?"

Terry exhaled a long, shaky breath. He looked down at Ronald, then back up.

"To tell the truth… Ronald was…"

Before he could finish, Reon shot to her feet.

She spun toward Hyoren, wild-eyed and trembling, her face twisted with anguish. Her voice burst out of her, cracking and shrill, hysterical.

"It's my fault! It's MY FAULT!!!"

She grabbed at her own hair with both hands.

"Papa's dead because of me, Hyoren! Because of ME!"

Her knees buckled. She nearly collapsed again.

"How am I supposed to face Mama after this!? How!? She's waiting for him! She's carrying his baby! How am I supposed to tell her!? HOW!?"

Her voice broke into a choked sob.

The young mage finally stopped hesitating. She threw her arms around Reon and pulled her into a tight embrace. Reon collapsed against her, burying her face in the girl's shoulder, her whole body shaking with sobs that tore out of her in great, gasping heaves.

"There, there… Reon… there…"

The mage's own voice was shaking. Tears streamed down her face too.

Terry closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he finished quietly.

"Everything went well at first. We'd won. After Guild Master Fiona ordered the pursuit, Ronald told the rest of us to stay back and rest. All of us. Including Reon."

He glanced at the girl, still sobbing in her friend's arms.

"We were exhausted. Every one of us. We'd been riding since last night. We had wounds, but nothing serious. And Reon… she was still just a fledgling. Ronald didn't want her anywhere near the pursuit."

He looked out toward the plain, toward the distant figures still chasing the goblins east.

"But Reon insisted on joining the chase. She wanted to do more. She wanted to contribute…"

Richard spoke up then. The broad-shouldered spearman of the party had been standing silently with his arms crossed, staring at the ground. His voice was low and heavy.

"Ronald couldn't stop her. She'd already run off before he could grab her. So he went after her."

His arms tightened across his chest.

"The goblins had gone mad by then. The ones that weren't running were just attacking anything that moved. Reon was chasing one of them. She was so focused on it that she didn't see the others coming."

He swallowed.

"Three Goblin Warriors. They came at her from the side. Her blind spot. All three at once."

He shook his head slowly.

"Ronald saw it. But he was exhausted too. He'd been holding the line since dawn. He must have known he couldn't block all three with his shield in time."

His voice cracked slightly.

"So he threw his shield aside. And he shielded her with his own body instead."

Reon let out a raw, keening wail into her friend's shoulder.

"Slow and steady… Papa always told me slow and steady… Always… Why did I forget… Why did I forget what you taught me, Papa…?"

Her voice dissolved into a howl.

"UUUAAAAAHHHHH!"

Digo, the third member of Ironclad Guardian, had been standing with his back to them, staring at the city wall. Now he turned around slowly. His face was blank, emptied out.

"We got there as fast as we could. We killed the goblins."

His voice was flat. Hollow.

"But when we reached him, Ronald was already dying. He'd taken all three of their weapons right through his back. He was still holding her. Still covering her."

He looked down at Ronald's still face.

"We gave him healing potions. All we had. But the wounds were too deep. The potions couldn't close them fast enough. The blood just… kept coming."

He turned his eyes to the stained tarp. His lips trembled.

"He died in Reon's arms."

No one said anything after that.

Hyoren stood in silence, staring down at the man who had called him "lad." The man who had raised his fist to him at the briefing like a salute. Who had told them all, again and again, "Slow and steady." Who had ridden through the night and held the line all day and never once complained.

Who had died protecting his daughter.

Hyoren's hands were shaking.

Behind him, Jigor let out a long, low breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a murmur.

"Gravok’s earth and fire will welcome you, old friend…"

He pressed a fist to his chest and bowed his head.

"You were a wall to the very end."

Killa stood a few steps behind them, Jackey still slumped across her back. She had gone very pale. Her black eyes were wide and fixed on the bloody tarp, on the the three holes in Ronald’s armor, on the girl sobbing her heart out beside him.

Then she slowly turned her face up toward the sky. Her voice came out so quiet that only Hyoren, standing closest, could hear it.

"That could have been him…"

Her arms tightened around Jackey's legs. Her lower lip trembled. She pressed her cheek against Jackey's limp arm and squeezed her eyes shut.

***

For a while, no one moved.

They simply stood there around the tarp, unsure of what to do. Unsure of what could possibly be said. Around them, the noise of the gate went on. Stretchers carried past. Someone screaming for a healer. Someone else weeping. A horse whinnying somewhere beyond the wall. None of it seemed to reach them.

Digo had turned away again. He stood with his back to the others, staring up at the city wall, at the battlements where the mages had stood all day. His shoulders were rigid. He didn't speak.

Terry's longbow still hung from his limp hand. Richard stood with his arms crossed, staring at the bloodied tarp, his jaw working silently.

The young mage was still kneeling beside Reon, her arms wrapped around her friend's shaking shoulders. She kept murmuring to her, soft, broken little words.

"It's not your fault, Reon… it's not… please… please stop crying…"

But nothing reached her.

Reon had sunk back down beside her father's body. She was rocking slowly back and forth, her fingers still clutching the bloodstained sleeve of his gambeson. Her voice had dropped to a raw, endless whisper.

"My fault… my fault… if I'd just listened… if I'd just stayed back… my fault… my fault…"

Over and over. Like a prayer. Like a curse.

The young swordsman had finally lowered his face from the sky. He stood staring at nothing, tears running silently down his cheeks.

And Rina. 

She had been standing quietly a few steps back, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself, watching Reon the whole time. She hadn't spoken. She hadn't cried. She had just stared, her face blank and pale, as if her mind was still somewhere far away, still trying to catch up with what had happened.

But slowly, something in her face began to change.

Her arms loosened. Her hands curled into fists. Her lips pressed into a thin, hard line. Her eyes, dull and unfocused a moment ago, began to sharpen.

She took a step forward.

Then another.

Her short bow knocked against her back with each step. The young mage glanced up at her, startled.

"Rina…?"

Rina didn't answer.

She stopped directly in front of Reon, knelt down, grabbed her by the collar and pulled her around to face her.

Then she slapped her.

SMACK!

The sound cracked through the air like a whip. Reon's head snapped to the side. The young mage gasped. Terry's head jerked up. Even Digo turned around.

For a moment, Reon just stayed like that, her face turned away, her cheek blazing red. Her muttering had stopped.

"Reon!"

Rina's voice was sharp and shaking.

"Stop wallowing in it!"

Reon slowly turned her head back. Her swollen eyes were wide, stunned.

Rina's fists tightened in Reon's collar. Her voice cracked.

"If Ronald could see you like this right now, he'd be furious with you! Do you hear me!? Furious!"

She grabbed Reon's face with both hands and forced her to look straight into her eyes.

"Look at me. Look at me, Reon!"

Reon's lips trembled. But she looked.

Rina drew a deep, shuddering breath. When she spoke again, her voice was lower. Steadier. But every word carried weight.

"What you need to do now is steel yourself. Accept it. Accept this bitter truth, no matter how much it hurts."

Her thumbs brushed the tears from Reon's cheeks, roughly, almost angrily.

"Carry your mistake in your heart. Carry it there forever, so you never, ever make the same mistake again."

Her voice wavered for a moment. She swallowed hard and pushed on.

"And focus on how you're going to protect your mother. And your little brother or sister."

Reon's breath hitched.

Rina's grip on her face tightened.

"Because the Reon I know would never let this break her."

Her voice rose again, fierce and certain.

"She's strong! She's our wall! She's slow and steady, just like the amazing Ronald trained her to be! She always takes the blows for everyone else, every single time!"

Tears had finally begun to well in Rina's own eyes now. They spilled over and ran down her cheeks. But she didn't let go.

"I know it hurts. I know. Believe me, I know."

Her voice dropped to almost a whisper.

"I lost both my parents to a monster attack too. Remember?"

Reon's eyes widened slightly.

Rina gave a small, wet laugh, barely more than a breath.

"I was sitting on the side of the road. Back when I had nothing. No one. I'd given up on everything."

Her thumbs stroked Reon's cheeks again, gentler this time.

"And you were the one who sat down next to me. You were the one who wouldn't leave me alone until I got up again. You were the one who pulled me out of it."

She pressed her forehead against Reon's.

"So now it's my turn. Now I'm going to do it for you."

Reon's lips parted. A small, broken sound escaped her. But she didn't look away.

Rina pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes again.

"Remember our dream? The day we decided to become a party together?"

The young swordsman behind them had gone completely still. The young mage was crying openly now, but she was listening too.

Rina's voice grew stronger.

"We said we'd become strong. Strong enough that no one would have to die anymore. Strong enough to protect everyone. Remember?"

Reon's breathing slowed. Her hands, still clutching her father's sleeve, began to loosen.

Rina's grip tightened one final time.

"So live, Reon."

Her voice cracked, but it was firm.

"Live for your mother. Live for your little brother or sister. Carry on Ronald's will."

She took a deep breath.

"Remember his last words."

Reon's eyes widened.

Something shifted in her face. The wild, drowning grief froze for a moment, as if a single clear thought had cut through the storm.

His last words…

She remembered.

The weight of him in her arms as he collapsed. The warmth of his blood soaking through her clothes. His breath coming in shallow, wet gasps. And his eyes, already growing distant, fixed on her face. And his voice, so faint she had barely been able to hear it over the sounds of battle.

Her lips moved. Her voice came out in a whisper, as if she were hearing it all over again.

"'Reon… I'm leaving Martha… and the child… to you…'"

Her breath shuddered.

"'Please… protect them… And I love you… all of you…'"

The words hung in the air.

For a long moment, Reon didn't move at all.

Then, slowly, her hands let go of her father's sleeve.

Her trembling began to still. Her breathing, ragged and gasping a moment ago, slowed. Deepened. Steadied. Her eyes were still wet. Tears were still running down her cheeks. But beneath them, something was hardening.

Rina saw it. Slowly, she let go of Reon's face and sat back on her heels.

Reon turned back toward her father.

She crouched beside him again. But this time, she didn't cry. She didn't scream. She didn't beg him to wake up.

She looked down at his face for a long time. The face that had always been so calm. So steady. So patient with her, even when she rushed ahead. Even when she didn't listen.

She reached out and gently brushed a strand of gray-streaked hair from his forehead. Her fingers lingered against his skin. It was already cold.

Then she leaned down and pressed her forehead against his.

"Father…"

Her voice was soft. Quiet. But it no longer shook.

"I'll protect Mother. And my little brother or sister."

She closed her eyes.

"So please watch over me."

She stayed there a moment longer, her forehead resting against his.

Then she slowly sat up.

Her eyes moved to the two shields lying discarded in the mud nearby. The small round one she had carried all day. And the broad, heavy one beside it, dented and scarred from years upon years of protecting others.

She reached past her own shield.

And picked up his.

It was heavy. Far heavier than hers. It took both of her hands to lift it. Its face was battered with countless dents and scratches. Each one was a blow her father had taken so that someone else wouldn't have to. Fresh blood was smeared across its rim.

She held it against her chest and looked down at it.

"I'll become a wall."

Her fingers tightened around the grip.

"Just like you, Father."

She drew one long, slow breath.

"Slow and steady."

Then she stood.

She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. Slung her father's shield onto her arm. Planted her feet firmly in the bloodied mud.

And when she lifted her face, the broken, sobbing girl was gone.

In her place stood someone with eyes that were red and swollen, but steady. Unyielding. Filled with grim determination.

Exactly like her father's.

***

Hyoren looked at Reon for a long moment.

The girl who had been sobbing in the mud only moments ago now stood with her father's battered shield on her arm, her feet planted, her red-rimmed eyes steady. The shield was far too big for her. It covered her from chin to knee, and her arm trembled faintly under its weight.

But she didn't let it drop.

A soft smile slowly spread across Hyoren's face.

"Reon."

She turned toward him.

"Your father would be proud of you."

Reon's lips trembled. For a moment, it looked as though the tears might come back. But she pressed her lips together, swallowed hard and gave a single firm nod.

"…Thank you, Hyoren."

Hyoren stepped past her and crouched beside the tarp.

Ronald's face was calm. Peaceful, almost. As if he had simply lain down to rest after a long night's ride.

Hyoren looked at him for a while. He remembered the man raising his briefing to him like a salute. The rough, warm voice calling him "lad." The quiet confidence of a veteran who had guarded caravans along Akela's roads for over twenty years and had never once lost his nerve.

He placed his hand gently on Ronald's chest, just above the dented armor.

"You protected her to the very end, Ronald."

His voice was quiet.

"You held the line all day. You rode all night so the rest of us could rest. And when it mattered most, you were still standing in front of the people you loved."

He bowed his head.

"Thank you. For teaching me how to become a wall. For becoming a splendid mentor. For being someone I could look up to.”

He tapped the leaf-shaped Umbral Phalanx strapped on his left gauntlet.

“I will never forget your teaching.”

He paused. Then a faint, sad smile touched his lips.

"Rest now, Ronald. Slow and steady."

Behind him, Terry turned his face away. Richard squeezed his eyes shut. Digo pressed a fist hard against his own mouth.

Hyoren rose to his feet. He gave Reon and her party one last nod, then turned and walked toward Gate of Guts.

Jigor and Killa followed in silence.

***

They passed beneath the great Ironwood gate.

The shade of the gatehouse fell over them, cool and dim after the open plain. Inside the walls, the square behind the gate had been turned into a staging ground. Stretchers lay in rows along the walls. Priests in white robes moved between them, hands glowing faintly with Light Magic. Runners hurried past with armfuls of bandages and crates of potions. The air smelled of blood, herbs and smoke.

Hyoren stopped and turned to the other two.

"Jigor. Killa. Take Jackey to the medic tent. Ask for Archbishop Sherine. Tell her I sent you, and ask her to examine him personally."

Killa nodded at once, shifting Jackey's weight higher on her back.

"I will."

Jigor raised a bushy eyebrow.

"The Archbishop herself, eh? You sure she'll see us? She must be swamped."

Hyoren gave a small, tired smile.

"She'll see you. Tell her it's for Hyoren."

Jigor stared at him for a moment, then let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

"Gyahaha… The Hero of Akela has friends in high places, does he? Fine, fine. Off we go, lass."

He clapped Killa lightly on the shoulder, and the two of them started toward the medic tent, Killa walking carefully so as not to jostle the unconscious Cat-clan Beastkin on her back.

Hyoren watched them go. Then he turned toward the gatehouse stairs and began to climb.

***

The stairs felt endless.

His legs were heavy. His Aethell was nearly gone. Only Berserker was still keeping him upright, still burning through his muscles, still pouring steam off his skin. Every step echoed against the stone.

When he finally reached the top and stepped out onto the battlements, he found Baron Guts.

The wall commander stood near the parapet, issuing orders to a pair of runners. His black-red robe was stained with sweat and soot. His face was gray. He leaned heavily on his red-orb staff, and every so often he swayed slightly, as if a strong wind might knock him over.

But his voice was steady, and his orders were clear.

"Have the second medic tent set up near the eastern square. Pull the stretcher bearers who can still walk and rotate them. And get water up here. All the water you can find."

The runners saluted.

"Yes, Baron!"

Along the inner side of the battlements, the mages and archers who had fought all day lay where they had collapsed. Some were slumped against the stone, staring blankly at nothing. Some were curled on their sides, fast asleep, their staves and bows still clutched in their hands. A few sipped weakly from waterskins being passed down the line. Empty potion vials crunched underfoot.

And there, a short distance along the wall, Hyoren saw them.

Elise and Arianna lay side by side on the stone, their heads resting on folded cloaks. Elise's green mantle was still draped over Arianna, tucked carefully beneath her chin. Someone had laid a second cloak over Elise in turn. Moonveil Bow and Quadraflux Weaver had been placed neatly beside them.

Both of them were unconscious.

And kneeling between them, her small hands busy checking one, then the other, was Oria.

Hyoren's chest tightened.

He crossed the battlements in a few long strides and dropped to one knee beside them.

Oria looked up. Her face was pale with exhaustion, and dark circles had settled beneath her eyes. Her Azure Wand hung from her wrist by its cord. But when she saw him, her eyes widened.

"Hoo… You're back."

Then her gaze traveled over him. The crimson streaks. The bulging muscles. The steam.

Her eyebrows drew together sharply.

"And you're still in that state? Good grief… Do you have any idea how much worse your backlash gets the longer you keep that thing running?"

Hyoren smiled wryly and scratched his cheek.

"I know, I know. I'll release it as soon as I'm somewhere I can collapse safely."

She sighed.

"You'd better."

She turned back to her two patients.

Hyoren looked down at Elise. Her face was pale and peaceful. Her silver hair spilled across the cloak beneath her head. Her breathing was slow and even.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek.

"Oria. What happened to them?"

Oria tapped her chin with one finger, the way she always did when she was organizing her thoughts.

"Elise first. Since hers is simpler."

She nodded at the silver-haired elf.

"She's fine. Completely fine. She just burned through every last drop of her Aethell. She fired Sacred Wind twice in a row, with those mithril arrows of hers, from all the way up here."

She shook her head slowly, almost in disbelief.

"Hit both Shamans from a kilometer and a half away. I watched her do it. My brain is delicate, Hyoren. I'm not sure it can handle seeing something like that twice."

Hyoren let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

So it really was her… From all the way up here…

Oria went on.

"She collapsed from Aethell exhaustion. Her body just needs time to recover. She'll wake up within a day at most."

Hyoren nodded slowly, his hand still resting near Elise's cheek.

"I see… Thank you, Oria."

Then his gaze moved to Arianna.

The crimson-haired mage looked far worse. Her face was deathly white. Dried blood was still crusted beneath her nose and at the corner of her mouth. Even unconscious, her brow was creased as if in pain.

Oria's expression darkened.

"Arianna is… different."

She hesitated, then lowered her voice.

"She shouldn't have been able to cast that third Earth Fissure. Not with the Aethell she had left. I know how much that spell costs. She was nowhere near enough. Not even close."

She looked up at Hyoren.

"But she did it anyway."

Hyoren's eyes narrowed.

"How?"

Oria was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, there was something almost reverent in her voice.

"When she reached the end of her Aethell, the spell stalled. It was stuck. I could see it. The array was complete, but it wouldn't release. She was just standing there, shaking, bleeding from her nose…"

She paused.

"And then she grabbed Noctynara's Lament. The orb was supposed to be inert. It's been inert since earlier today, after it refilled her. But it flashed. And then…"

She looked out over the battlements, toward the plain.

"Shadow poured out of it. It wrapped around her completely. Everyone thought she was being attacked. Her father almost lunged at it. But then the shadow took shape."

She turned back to Hyoren. Her eyes were wide.

"It was a figure. A woman. Blurry, like smoke. But anyone who's ever seen the statues in a church of Luminara would've recognized her face."

She swallowed.

"It was Goddess Noctynara. She embraced Arianna from behind. Like a mother holding her child."

Hyoren's breath caught.

Oria continued, her voice quieter now.

"After that, Arianna started casting again. But it looked like it was tearing her apart. She was screaming. She could barely stay on her feet. It was like watching someone being beaten from the inside."

She looked down at Arianna's pale, blood-streaked face.

"And then she cast it. And collapsed. Her father caught her."

Hyoren was silent.

His mind raced.

Noctynara appeared… just like Jackey suddenly gained that skill in the middle of the fight.

He thought of the impossible movement Jigor had described. Ground Shrink. A legendary skill, granted mostly to those blessed by Zalkier.

Jackey… and now Arianna... Both of them at their limit… Both of them desperate to protect someone…

Arianna must have received a Blessing too… And some kind of skill that let her cast without enough Aethell…

He looked at the dried blood beneath her nose. At the pained crease in her brow.

But nothing comes for free… There has to be a price… Just like Berserker…

He focused on her.

Magic Eyes : Diagnostic Sight flickered to life.

State: Overexertion from skill use.

Hyoren exhaled slowly.

The same as Jackey.

He sat back on his heels.

"Her life isn't in danger. But she's paying for whatever she did. Just like Jackey. She'll probably be unconscious for a while."

Oria nodded grimly.

"I thought as much. Hoo…”

She shrugged.

“ I've given her a high-grade potion already. It helped her body. But whatever this is, it isn't something a potion can fix."

Then voices rose along the battlements.

A little way down the wall, a group of mages and archers who had recovered enough to sit up were talking among themselves. Their voices were growing louder and more excited.

"Did you see it? Did you all see it? Goddess Noctynara appeared! Right here, on the wall! That's never happened before! Never!"

A young archer shook his head in disbelief.

"But… isn't the Goddess of Darkness evil? I mean, the Voided Covenant worships her, right?"

The mage beside him smacked him on the back of the head.

"Idiot! That's a misconception!"

The archer rubbed his head.

"Ow! Really?"

A young priestess in white robes, who had been coming from the medic tent and moving along the wall tending to the exhausted, paused and turned toward them. She smiled gently.

"It's true. Many people believe that, but we of Luminara's Church know the truth. Goddess Noctynara is Goddess Luminara's twin. She is a Pillar of the Aethell, just like the others. The heretics twisted her name. Not her."

The mage beside the young archer nodded and looked toward the spot where Arianna lay, his face reverent.

"And you all saw her yourselves, didn't you? The way she embraced Lady Arianna. How could a face that radiated that much kindness ever be evil?"

The young archer fell quiet. Then he slowly nodded.

"…Well. That's true. She didn't look evil at all. She looked… gentle."

"Right!?"

More voices joined in along the wall.

"I'll never forget it as long as I live!"

"Goddess Noctynara answered Lady Arianna's prayer!"

"She saved Akela too! Her and Lady Arianna!"

"Praise the Goddess of Darkness!"

Hyoren listened, and a quiet warmth spread through his chest.

He remembered meeting her in the White Void. Cold. Logical. Distant. But beneath it, kind and compassionate. Nothing like the monster history had made her out to be.

The misconception about her won't disappear overnight. Not after centuries.

He looked over at the excited faces along the wall.

But a seed has been planted today. Right here, in Akela.

He smiled.

Then he rose to his feet and turned toward Baron Guts.

The Baron had finished with his runners and was watching the cluster of mages with a strange expression. His eyes kept drifting back to his unconscious daughter.

Hyoren approached and stopped in front of him.

"Baron Guts."

Baron Guts turned. For a moment, he simply looked at Hyoren. His crimson-streaked skin. His steam. His exhaustion.

Then something in the Baron's tired face softened.

"Hyoren. Well done. Truly."

He drew a long breath.

"You kept your promise. You killed the Chieftain."

Hyoren shook his head.

"It wasn't just me. Arianna. Elise. Jackey. Everyone."

Baron Guts nodded.

"I know."

The Baron’s gaze drifted back toward his daughter. Then past her, over the outer parapet, down to the foot of the gate. To a tarp in the mud, and a girl standing beside it with a shield far too big for her.

“And I saw Ronald too…”

His grip tightened on his staff.

I’ll bear this sin.

He was quiet for a moment. Then he straightened, leaning on his staff.

"Phase five won't last long... Fiona and Yugold will chase down the ones heading east toward the King's Highway. But I've ordered them not to push too far. Everyone is spent. We'll hunt down the rest in the coming days, once we've rested."

Hyoren nodded.

"That's wise."

Baron Guts looked at him squarely.

"And you need to rest too. You and your party. You've done more than enough today. More than anyone could have asked of you."

He paused. His voice dropped.

"And Hyoren…"

His jaw tightened. For a moment, the Baron's composure slipped. Hyoren saw not the commander of Akela's defense, but simply a tired father.

"Please. Take care of Arianna for me. I can't leave my post yet. Not until this is finished."

Hyoren met his eyes and nodded firmly.

"I will. I promise."

Baron Guts let out a long, slow breath. Some of the stiffness went out of his shoulders.

"Thank you."

Hyoren reached up to his ear and carefully removed the communication magic tool. The small earbud and its tiny orb sat in his palm, faintly warm. He held it out.

"I won't be needing this anymore. Thank you for letting me use it."

Baron Guts took it and closed his fingers around it.

"It served you well, Field Commander."

He paused. Then the corner of his mouth lifted, ever so slightly.

"Or should I say… Hero of Akela?"

Before Hyoren could answer, a voice resounded in his mind.

"Requirements met. Sufficient recognition from the ruler of the territory, the defending army, and a heroic feat."

Hyoren froze.

A brief pause followed.

"Hero of Akela City - Title Acquired."

Hyoren groaned inwardly.

Not again…

This was his second hero title. And he had never wanted to become a hero in the first place. He'd been trying to avoid exactly this kind of thing since the day he arrived in this world.

Then he felt its effect settle over him.

Just like his first hero title, it wasn't a dramatic surge of power. There was no sudden rush of strength, no burst of speed, no flood of Aethell.

Instead, it was something far harder to notice. A faint influence, woven quietly into his presence. A slight push that made people more inclined to trust him. More willing to believe his words. More likely to see him in a favorable light when they first met him. It was so subtle that most people would never even realize it was there.

But it could compound as he earned more titles. And unlike his title as Hero of Riverville Town, this one, subtle as it was, felt clearly stronger.

Baron Guts tilted his head, watching him.

"Why have you gone stiff like that, Hyoren?"

Hyoren didn't answer right away.

The Baron's eyes narrowed. Then they slowly widened as something clicked.

"Don't tell me…"

A grin spread across his tired face.

"You actually received the title for real!? Hahaha!"

Hyoren raised both hands quickly.

"No, no, it's not like that. It's just…"

But the mages and archers along the wall had overheard. Heads turned. Someone sat bolt upright.

"The Field Commander got a title!?"

"Hero of Akela! It's real!"

"I told you! He's the Hero of Akela!"

"HERO! HERO! HERO!"

The exhausted defenders who could barely lift their staves a moment ago were suddenly cheering again, pumping their fists in the air.

Hyoren looked at them. Then at the grinning Baron. Then he let out a long, defeated sigh and nodded.

"…Yes. I received the title."

He scratched his cheek and looked away.

"But honestly, I don't think I deserve it."

The grin vanished from Baron Guts' face.

He planted his red-orb staff firmly against the stone and looked Hyoren straight in the eyes. His expression was suddenly serious, completely and utterly serious.

"Hyoren. If you don't deserve that title, then no one in the history of this barony ever has."

Hyoren blinked.

The Baron's voice was quiet, but each word carried weight.

"You stood at the center of that line all day. You devised the plan that saved this city. You carved a path to the Chieftain and cut it down with your own hands. Every soul behind these walls is alive because of what you did today."

He placed a heavy hand on Hyoren's shoulder.

"So don't you dare say you don't deserve it. Accept it. And accept it with your head held high."

For a moment, Hyoren didn't know what to say.

Then, slowly, he straightened his back. He looked out over the battlements, at the cheering mages and archers, at the plain beyond the wall, at the city still standing behind him.

Second time now…

He let out a breath.

I suppose I'm almost used to it by now…

A wry smile tugged at his lips.

Almost…

He turned back to the Baron and bowed his head slightly.

"…Thank you, Baron Guts. I'll accept it. Proudly."

Baron Guts' serious expression cracked. And for the first time all day, he laughed properly. It was tired and rough, but genuine.

"Good! That's the spirit, Hero of Akela!"

Hyoren scowled.

"…Please don't call me that."

Baron Guts laughed again.

"Too late!"