🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 45
Crash!
“Hey, you bastard! Can’t you watch where you’re going?!”
“S-Sorry!”
“Bandages! Bring bandages!”
Inside the medical tent, chaos reigned. Medics ran back and forth, struggling with the wounded soldiers who groaned in pain.
Those with severe injuries had lost parts of their bodies, and in many cases, they were cauterized with hot irons to prevent further infection—often passing out from the unbearable pain.
“……Damn it, isn’t there anything here that actually works? When are the supplies coming?!”
An enraged medic jumped to his feet and shouted.
Treating soldiers with these temporary measures had already been going on for days.
Every day, more than a dozen comrades were dying, yet there was nothing they could do as medics.
But then—
“Marenk-nim!”
“Haa… Phileinal. If you’re about to give me another shitty report, hold it for now. I seriously feel like smashing your face in.”
“N-No, that’s not it. I just received word from the situation room—apparently, supplies will be arriving soon along with reinforcements.”
“…What did you say?”
It had already been over a month since even the sparse reinforcements had stopped.
This was the most intense battlefield, and surviving with ordinary supplies was utterly impossible.
Worse still, the division commander who had been in charge here until now was a pig-like bastard who used the northern battles to expand only his own power.
And yet—
“And… the division commander is being stripped of his position… and taken away by the Imperial Guard.”
“What?”
Marenk’s expression hardened.
In the northeastern region, the division commander was practically the apex predator.
No one could touch him, and this place was like his own kingdom.
And yet he was being removed from office?
“By who?”
“By the newly appointed corps commander. That… you know the Belkain division commander who used to manage the northwest.”
“He became a corps commander?”
“Yes. I heard he was promoted after earning great merit in the northwest… and that he has now taken office as the Northern Commander.”
The commander of the north had changed.
And Belkain, now commander, began by cutting out the most rotten parts first.
“…He removed the division commander from office.”
This was an extraordinarily drastic move.
The division commander who managed the northeast was a noble.
Though his title was low, touching a noble was no easy matter, which made it all the more shocking.
“They say he’s a madman… and he really does insane things without batting an eye.”
No one could predict how the north would change from here on.
‘Still, it can’t possibly be worse than now.’
If it got any worse, it would be no different from abandoning the north entirely.
“I understand. More importantly, are the medicinal herbs still not ready?”
“We’ve been sending soldiers nearby to gather them, but honestly, it’s hard to find any more herbs around our camp.”
“In the end… that means we’ll have to go farther north.”
There was a limit to self-sufficiency.
Unless they went near Lake Elbarfiel, which was occupied by the Kar tribe, supplying materials from here was nearly impossible.
Even so—
“They say support will arrive soon… Let’s hold out until then.”
“Yes!”
At his subordinate’s reply, Marenk returned to tending the wounded.
Supplies were important, but more than that—
‘The reinforcements coming this time… they’d better be at least somewhat competent.’
Unlike other northern fronts that only defended, the 4th defensive line was locked in a struggle over Lake Elbarfiel.
It had already been six months since the Kar tribe took control of the lake.
Because of incompetent leadership, they hadn’t reclaimed it; instead, soldiers kept dying from reckless attacks.
‘Please… please, let someone competent come.’
Still, the change in the corps commander who oversaw the entire north—and his first move being so drastic—gave some faint hope.
Thinking of how the north might change, Marenk simply continued doing his best at his duties.
Step. Step.
As he walked along the long column, faint mist gradually came into view.
‘So we’re nearing the 4th defensive line.’
A faint mist always formed around Lake Elbarfiel.
“We’ll arrive soon.”
The commander of the reinforcement company heading to the northeastern 4th defensive line murmured quietly.
And as he said, not long after, they arrived at the unit in charge of the northeastern 4th defensive line.
“…What is this place?”
“It’s… kind of gloomy, isn’t it?”
The soldiers who had arrived frowned at the strange atmosphere.
For most of them, it was the first time encountering such an environment.
But those who had experienced the northwestern 1st defensive line remained calm, as if used to it.
This place, too—
‘The atmosphere isn’t much different from the northwestern 1st defensive line.’
In a camp where despair hung heavy, soldiers simply carried out their duties listlessly.
There was no hope to be found—just a damp, oppressive mood.
Artheon let out a small breath and began adjusting to his new environment.
But then—
“Sergeant Artheon.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“You’ve been assigned to the 1st Company here. A guide will arrive shortly, so follow him to the 1st Company. Once you’re there, your official posting will be decided.”
“Heart of Steel! Yes, understood.”
Artheon saluted the mounted commander.
Not long after, a soldier approached him.
“Are you Sergeant Artheon?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Staff Sergeant Volgren. I’m here to guide you.”
Short green hair.
Eyes that looked fairly steady and firm.
Artheon nodded.
As Volgren turned and began walking, Artheon followed behind.
As they crossed through the camp, horrific sights could be seen here and there.
Volgren spoke.
“Just three days ago, there was a battle to retake Lake Elbarfiel.”
“It seems it failed.”
“…Yes. It was a crushing defeat. The number of dead soldiers alone exceeded 200. You could say nearly half our effective strength was lost… a truly devastating battle.”
Artheon nodded.
He knew no words could offer comfort.
But still—
‘…Did Belkain predict this situation?’
That was likely why, immediately after his inauguration as corps commander, he had decisively removed the northeastern commander.
He must have intended to change the dangerously unstable northeastern front.
While listening to various stories about the 4th defensive line, they arrived at the tent of the 1st Company commander.
Volgren spoke toward the inside of the tent.
“Sir, it’s Volgren. I’ve brought Sergeant Artheon.”
“Send him in.”
At the voice from within, Volgren nodded to Artheon.
Artheon entered, and a large man looked down at him.
“…So you’re Sergeant Artheon?”
“Heart of Steel! Sergeant Artheon reporting to Captain Hadel.”
He already knew the name from Volgren.
He gave a crisp salute, but Hadel frowned and looked him up and down.
He asked,
“How old are you?”
“I’ll turn sixteen after this month.”
“…This is insane.”
He had already read the letter, but seeing him in person was bewildering.
Turning sixteen next month meant—
‘He’s fifteen now…’
Was it really right to entrust a platoon to someone this young?
His thoughts were complicated.
Of course, he had heard the stories.
From private to sergeant in just a few months.
An unprecedented promotion.
In the army, age meant nothing—only ability mattered.
But still—
‘There’s such a thing as common sense…’
No matter what, this felt excessive.
Hadel stood up.
He was at least two heads taller, forcing Artheon to tilt his head upward.
Short blond hair.
Thick eyebrows and beneath them, deep-set dark blue eyes.
His gaze was cold, like a frozen lake, and his tightly closed lips showed no warmth.
Hadel looked down at Artheon, lost in thought.
‘This kid… really was the one who contributed most to reclaiming Helikel Gorge?’
Belkain had been promoted to lieutenant general and became the corps commander overseeing the north.
He had shown bold, competent leadership, bold enough to remove the useless northeastern division commander.
And yet—
‘…Damn it.’
Still, orders were orders.
Hadel irritably turned to the documents on the desk and signed them.
“Take this.”
Artheon looked at the document.
It was an appointment as the 3rd Platoon Leader of the 1st Company.
“The platoon you’ll be in charge of is the 3rd Platoon. We suffered many casualties in the recent battle, so you’ll need to start by replenishing your soldiers.”
His voice was still cold.
More than cold—it felt like he had no expectations at all.
As if he assumed Artheon would fail anyway.
But Artheon didn’t mind and replied calmly.
“Yes, understood.”
At Artheon’s expression and tone, Hadel’s eyebrow twitched.
Did he have some kind of confidence?
Hadel continued sharply.
“I’ll acknowledge you achieved some merit, but being sent here could mean your achievements were exaggerated.”
The northeastern 4th defensive line was the most intense and dangerous place in the entire north.
It didn’t make sense to send someone who had truly earned great merit to such a death trap.
So Hadel warned him.
“If you get arrogant, you might lose your life in the next battle. Be careful.”
“Yes, understood.”
Of course, such words were no threat to Artheon.
The northeastern 4th defensive line.
For now, it was the most dangerous place in the north, but—
‘…If, in the future, we push beyond the current defensive lines and advance further north…’
A true hellish battlefield would unfold.
And to Artheon, who had survived for years in such places while slaughtering the Kar tribe—
‘This is practically encouragement.’
Artheon suppressed a smile and stepped back.
“Heart of Steel! Sergeant Artheon. I will take my leave.”
He exited the company commander’s tent.
Volgren, who had been waiting outside, let out a small sigh.
“That was nerve-wracking. The captain’s been in a very bad mood since the crushing defeat.”
“It’s fine. I’ll take it as concern.”
“And the 3rd Platoon you’re going to is…”
“…?”
“Never mind. You’ll see when you get there.”
Volgren shook his head.
He thought it would be better to see it directly than to explain with words.
And when they arrived at the 3rd Platoon’s tent—
“…Ah?”
Artheon had to struggle to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching
