Elizaveta returned to the barracks and sat down. In front of her, there were piles of paperwork yet to be addressed. She slowly lifted a report, only to put it down again.
A long, deep breath followed. Her fists clenched tightly several times, then weakened and relaxed.
It was a tense moment. After having sent a goblin “envoy,” she waited without checking the report for yet another period.
When enough time had passed, she opened her mouth.
“Bring Dmitri.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Outside the military camp, she sensed a presence of an officer disappearing. Moments later, the officer returned with a loud clank.
“Your Majesty, Lieutenant Colonel Dmitri Cherkatov is entering.”
“Come in.”
As the door to the barracks opened, Dmitri, who wore a prosthetic leg, walked in and knelt.
“Your Majesty.”
“Dmitri, what is the situation?”
At Elizaveta’s words, Dmitri looked up. He glanced at her for a moment before speaking.
“The morale in the camp is not as high as before. Do not worry. Your speech was excellent.”
“If you want to consider yourself a fool, you may continue to do so.”
“I… I assure you that there will be no desertions among the officers.”
“And the soldiers?”
“The desertions of the rank-and-file soldiers are a constant, not a variable, Your Majesty.”
Dmitri lowered his head without making eye contact with Elizaveta. The sound of her tapping on the table stretched into silence.
Soon, she sighed and spoke.
“Then the numbers will increase. Is that the assessment from the Counterintelligence Command?”
“There are currently too few personnel in this command to monitor the entire camp. This is merely my personal judgment.”
“If the most capable agent in this country says that, I shall believe it.”
At Elizaveta’s words, Dmitri bowed his head without a word.
As she said, Elizaveta was not a fool. In fact, she was more intelligent than most rulers.
If she had no experience of war, it might be different, but she was an officer with service experience from the Great War. She was aware enough to know that a retreat operation, no matter how beautifully wrapped in words, was nothing more than a defeat.
In essence, it is more difficult for a legion to retreat than to advance.
When everyone is moving forward, a soldier’s vision is focused solely ahead. Soldiers often forget their fears in the thrill of hearing the breaths of comrades standing shoulder to shoulder.
However, when the retreat begins, the survival instincts of the soldiers awaken amidst the crumbling camp. The fear of death starts to paralyze rational thinking.
The current retreat extended from the Grand Gate to central Krasilov. They were abandoning every city along their route.
And the role of the 2nd Legion was to guard the Northern Grand Gate…
“All legions replenish their soldiers near their garrison.”
Just as the 1st Legion operated soldiers based on colonial territories, the 2nd Legion was composed of forces operating with a Northern territory in the rear.
In other words, the soldiers of this camp knew their hometown was burning, left abandoned in ruins without a single survivor.
In this situation, the only reason the legion had not collapsed was largely due to Elizaveta’s authority.
Under her command, they had intentionally avoided encounters with the enemy as much as possible, making it feel like an extensive training process against non-existent foes.
The underground alley had no sun or moon. With no sky, the only way to distinguish the dates was through a sense of time. Since the enemy’s forms were not visible, they barely felt any direct threat to their lives.
In such distorted senses, the soldiers forgot their fears. Vaguely, they could ignore the fact that their hometown was being swept away.
Not anymore.
Did they intend this?
Strands of hair flowed from Elizaveta’s lowered head as her eyes glinted in thought.
Was it a display that the real demons had burrowed into the heart of Krasilov? Was it a suggestion that they were freely roaming this land unarmed?
The officers would not desert. They knew that if they lost this war, they would have no future, and they were elite enough not to doubt Elizaveta’s leadership.
But expecting that each of the soldiers would carry the same level of will was foolish.
Their hometown had been devastated, and even cities that had not yet crumbled would soon vanish. Literally, they would ‘disappear’ physically.
This fact was easily known to all humans in this world. The last Great War had only been four years ago, and even then, the demons left no prisoners. No survivors remained in their occupied territories.
So among the soldiers, ‘some’ would surely be startled as if waking from a dream. The morale heightened by Elizaveta’s speech would settle down when night fell.
– The frontline has pressed back enough for unarmed goblins to reach this area…?
– If I can just escape, can I evacuate my family?
Just a single soldier. Even if he disappeared, there would be no way to chase him down, nor would there be time, and his absence would hardly affect the legion’s combat power.
But that ‘one’ soldier was the only strength for his family. It might be the last chance to save them…
And their king was currently commanding them, the entire legion, under such circumstances.
– Abandon your families. Let them become prey for the demons.
No matter how loyal and steadfast a Krasilov man might be, he could not possibly dismiss the idea of deserting in this situation. There would be a level of personnel deficit far surpassing the existing desertion rate.
In a situation where the camp had to retreat every fifteen hours, constantly moving and rerouting, it was complicated to the level that even the most well-trained officers had never experienced such a complex retrograde operation; would they truly have the spirit to prevent desertions?
Elizaveta sighed. From her seated position, she was observing the intentions of the Seven Dragon Lords through a single statement from a goblin.
Dmitri spoke with awe in his voice as he noted how quickly his sovereign reacted.
“If you command it, I will dispatch all available personnel to the periphery.”
“You mean to forfeit our intelligence-gathering capabilities on the surface.”
“We cannot perform both.”
Currently, the Counterintelligence Command was raising its domestic intelligence capabilities in line with the retreating 2nd Legion.
In the vast area connecting Northern and Central Krasilov, they were monitoring the reactions and survival of each territory, as well as the movement patterns and strategic objectives of the enemy forces in real-time.
To use these resources solely for controlling deserters would be a foolish decision. Elizaveta cracked a strained smile at the dilemma.
“What is the status of the artillery unit’s readiness at the Karbinskiy Plain?”
“The expected preparation period is three days, Your Majesty.”
“So, it means we should buy three more days and minimize desertion losses.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
Elizaveta tapped on the table before standing up.
“Convene all forces except for the artillery unit. Prepare for a maneuver.”
“…Pardon? Your Majesty? I—!”
“If non-combat losses grow larger, we cannot maintain the legion. Do you think the artillery unit will not desert? Just before the legion crumbles, this is our strongest force.”
“Your Majesty!! In this terrain, we absolutely cannot—.”
“The artillery unit will gather at Karbinskiy per the existing strategy and prepare for fire support. We will have to fight from this position for the three days.”
“Your Majesty… please reconsider. It’s not about the odds; I cannot guarantee even Your Majesty’s safety.”
Dmitri’s strong opposition to her words was unprecedented. Such incidents had never occurred even during her time leading the Cleanup Unit.
A soldier who had never protested even when tasked with suicide missions under superior orders was now rejecting the king’s commands.
This was not a concern for his own safety but for the king’s protection. Elizaveta smiled at the loyal man’s words and replied.
“This is the arrogance of a king.”
“Lay down your lives. In return, I shall offer up mine. To stand there and command you to die, this is a king’s arrogance.”
These were words recognized as the last epitaph left by Tsar Ivan. Every Krasilov soldier knew it.
Dmitri bowed his head in silence to her words.
“Lord, protect our king.”
“No. Lord, protect this country.”
The two drew a cross and turned their backs, leaving the barracks.
*
“Yes, yes, my lord!”
[You did well.]
As the sounds of hiss echoed, the goblins hurriedly vacated. Soon after, the commanders gathered and bowed deeply to their ruler, saying.
[Now the human king will no longer be able to flee.]
The most threatening moment for them is when their artillery is concentrated on a single point in a large plain. To this end, they are currently throwing their cities away as bait while retreating.
Quickly, they were escaping through the underground, weaving their way like rats through the maze-like caverns. It would be a distant thing to strike them down using the slow demons in this land.
To stop their retreat and force a maneuver, merely consuming the Northern cities isn’t enough. The humans… yes, they called it a war of public opinion, didn’t they?
Unlike their offspring, humans do not fully worship their leaders. They do not have faith. Their loyalty is always as flickering as a flame in the wind, a consumable thing that eventually burns out.
[Great Demon King, watch closely. The operation you have so cautiously prepared is worthless before true strength.]
Strike Drovian, strike Krasilov, and confuse them while forming a two-front line?
Was it not already proof of his humanity to dare suggest such a strategy to the Seven Dragon Lords?
If he truly wished to invade humanity, operations would be meaningless. Taking a single step would have meant conquest; it would have resulted in the demons’ end right then.
Now he would ignore the Demon King’s orders. The complicated strategizing was pointless. If he personally led the legion, all of his forces would gather under one will, no matter where they flowed in this land.
[Foolish human. Blind and ignorant king.]
His eyes met the human on the platform. The king with an eye patch was gazing down at him with a faint smile.
[It is not our name that frightens you. Fear itself is our essence.]
“Go ahead.”
The blind king laughed and nodded.
“I’ll enjoy watching.”
[Promises must be kept.]
“If you can truly break Krasilov, then yes. I shall grant you everything that belongs to Tanashimor.”
A loud crack was heard as Nekinon clenched his teeth.
That was something no mortal should be able to speak so easily. He gazed up at the Demon King for some time before turning his back, producing a hiss sound.
For the simplest solution available to a lost god to reclaim the Sacred, for the sake of destruction and slaughter.
“Yet, Nekinon. The moment you start using fear, your essence is no longer fear. How trivial it has become.”
*
In the distance, the Grand Gate was visible. Below it, a few demons were still gathered, bustling about as they deployed their forces.
Torches were set up around the Grand Gate. Military flags and poles not belonging to humans were densely planted along the high walls of the gate.
Military flags made from human skin and bone-poles were fluttering in the breeze.
Clank.
Behind Ivan, the halted forces raised their weapons in unison. The Grand Duke, who had been walking ahead, turned around. Simultaneously, the eyes of those who wanted to tear and devour the things right before them shifted to the Grand Duke.
A chilling killing intent was swirling like a storm, but the Grand Duke swept his gaze over his remaining defeated soldiers before he turned back.
There was no grand determination or glorious speech to be heard.
The Grand Duke drew the sword tied to his waist. It was an ancient longsword bestowed upon the Bolonovin house. The dark blade, having consumed the blood and oil of countless humans and demons, rose toward the sky.
He did not give the order to advance. With his remaining hand, he pressed down on the visor of his helmet and shouted briefly.
“Krasilov 1st Legion—!!”
Only—! Death—!!!
Since the time it was merely a small northern country.
From a time when it was simply called the ‘Royal Army’ without the organization of a legion.
Once again, until they crumbled two nations and held the entire northern region in their hands.
And yet again, over two decades since the Great War erupted. Numerous nations had perished, and the front lines had pressed right up to their borders, marking them for the next sacrifice.
Now the country’s first and strongest legion—the last defeated soldiers were rushing forward with weapons in hand.
There were no cavalry or armor. With no supplies, the firearms were the first to deteriorate and be thrown away. With no blacksmiths, most of the supplies they held were broken and discarded; the weapons they carried were merely axes and spears.
These were the tools carried by pioneers from the northern demon territories.
The last legacy of countless people who perished in the first offensive was now in their hands. Not to save their country or race, but for the sake of revenge.
Only death. Only death would be their last duty.
And that duty would be named vengeance.
Ivan gasped among the rushing soldiers, looking back at his companions.
His companions were also gripping their weapons tightly, glaring ominously ahead. Seeing this, Ivan nodded and shouted again.
“Only death!!”
On that day, the 1st Legion passed through the Grand Gate.
