Minutes before the signal flare, Legend slid into the trench beside me. The air was thick with tension, but he looked... distracted.
"Magnus," he whispered, staring at the dirt wall. "Do you have a girl waiting for you back home?"
I paused, checking the straps on my gauntlets. "No. Love isn't exactly my area of expertise. Why?"
Legend let out a shaky breath. "I do. Well, not 'back home.' She's here. I fell for her the moment I arrived at the front."
"Who?"
"Prina," he confessed, his voice softening. "The white-haired healer. I know, I know... you probably think I'm soft. But she's different. Even in this hellhole, she's gentle. She heals everyone without complaint. I... I can't lose her."
He turned to me, desperation in his eyes. "I have a favor to ask. Your servant, Rina—she's a monster in combat. If you tell her to do something, she listens. Could you... could you ask her to keep an eye on Prina? Just to make sure she doesn't get killed?"
I looked at him. A soldier in love on a suicide mission. How tragic. But a debt from a skilled warrior like Legend could be useful later.
"Fine," I said calmly. "Consider it done."
Legend's face lit up with relief, but before he could thank me, the world exploded.
"CHAAAARGE!"
The order screamed through the lines.
"URAAAAAAAA!"
The roar of thousands of soldiers tore through the night. Just moments ago, the full moon had hung peacefully in the sky, the stars twinkling like silent observers. Now, that tranquility was shattered by the guttural screams of men rushing toward their deaths.
I forced myself to remain calm amidst the chaos. My heart hammered against my ribs—this weak body's natural reaction to fear.
Focus, I commanded myself. Mana Breathing Technique: First Form.
I inhaled deeply, filtering the chaotic energy of the battlefield, cycling it through my lungs to steady my pulse. The fear vanished, replaced by cold clarity.
Arrows and explosive bolts began to rain down.
Legend, who had been blushing about a girl seconds ago, transformed instantly. He vaulted over the trench wall, his eyes hardening into steel. The lovesick boy was gone; the killer had arrived. He moved with fluid precision, deflecting a bolt that would have taken his head off.
Impressive, I noted.
As we neared the enemy trenches, their infantry emerged—a wall of spears and hate.
"DIE, IMPERIAL DOGS!" they screamed.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The ground shook violently as our rear artillery opened fire. Magic cannons launched shells over our heads, slamming into the enemy's backlines. Dirt, fire, and limbs were thrown into the air. The shockwaves rattled my teeth, but this was our opening.
Three enemy spearmen lunged at us, their tips glowing with mana.
"Rina!" I barked. "Clear the path!"
"Understood."
Rina didn't just swing her weapon; she danced. She spun her massive Adamantine Halberd, the blade whistling a deadly tune.
CRACK!
It wasn't a fight; it was an execution. With a single, horizontal sweep, she shattered their spears and their armor alike. The three soldiers were launched sideways like broken dolls, clearing a massive gap in their formation.
"Push forward!" the Lieutenant screamed from somewhere on the right.
The 38th Battalion surged into the gap, turning right to flank the main force.
I stopped. My eyes scanned the battlefield. The main chaotic brawl was to the right, a meat grinder of bodies. But to the left... I saw a smaller group of enemies retreating into the dark forest. They weren't just running; they were carrying something.
"Magnus!" Gron yelled. "We have to stick with the unit!"
"No," I said, my voice cutting through the noise. "They're going right. We go left."
"What? Why?"
"Trust me." I turned to Rina. "Cover my back. We're hunting stragglers."
"As you wish, Master."
While the rest of the battalion marched into the bloodbath, Rina and I slipped into the shadows of the left flank. The real prize wasn't glory; it was whatever those soldiers were trying to hide.