Chapter 11: The Real War
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Compared to his teammates, Ash seemed the calmest.
Though the war and hatred here didn't belong to him, he was merely a passerby. But now, no matter how reluctant he was, he had been pulled into this war.
In the past, he had experienced small skirmishes in forests and villages, places where the strong preyed on the weak. That experience left him better prepared than the others around him, who had also been caught up in this conflict.
Perhaps it was because of his calmness that he had been made the captain of the four-person team in the carriage.
"Haa… Or maybe I should find a way to get out of this damn place?" He muttered quietly, hiding the rest of his thoughts as he slightly lifted the curtain of the carriage.
Outside, vast snow-covered plains stretched endlessly before his eyes. Distant forests dotted the horizon like emeralds against the white blanket of snow, contrasting with the softly glowing sky.
During the boring march, time seemed to pass slowly, but the beautiful scenery outside the window still managed to capture Ash's attention.
The air was crisp and filled with the fresh scent of ice and snow, though the rhythmic pounding of horses' hooves through the snow broke the tranquility of the scene.
After some time, a small town emerged at the edge of the snowfield, its streets quiet and desolate. As the army approached, old houses and recruitment notices lined the streets, filling Ash's view and quickly making him lose interest.
"It's daytime now. We should reach the front line soon after dinner," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes.
In the southern countries, snow was uncommon, but this place sat on a plateau, covered in ice and snow year-round. The two nations were fighting for control of this snowy region.
...
Not far from the town, the scene shifted dramatically. In sharp contrast to the previous beauty, the armies lined up on both sides of the battlefield, prepared for conflict.
However, the front line of the opposing army appeared disorganized, though the reason became obvious soon enough.
A group of children, no older than ten on average, stood at the front, boys and girls alike. Their eyes were lifeless, and they held long swords in their hands. Clearly, they were being used as cannon fodder and spiritual meat shields.
"Don't their parents object to this? Aren't they afraid of causing riots? Or are they all orphans?" Ash muttered to himself.
The middle-aged woman in his team, who had been sitting across from him earlier, had a complicated expression when she heard his words. "They don't have parents. These are war orphans…"
"Really? So, we're the lucky ones?"
"…Almost. We still have some strength left, but who knows what will happen. Captain, if I die, could you take care of my child? I don't want my child to…"
"Hold on, we've only known each other for a month, and you're already saying this?"
"...But right now, Captain, you seem the calmest, so..."
"Am I the only one who can ask for your help?" Ash nodded silently but sighed. "Even if I survive this war, I won't stay here, so I can't accept your request."
"...You're really going too far. At least you could've agreed, if only to comfort me."
"I don't like lying. You'll have to find a way to survive on your own."
After that, he paid no more attention to the middle-aged woman, whose face had fallen with sadness. Instead, he focused on preparing for the impending battle, holding his breath as he readied himself.
Soon after, the sound of war drums echoed across the wilderness, and the army began to move in an orderly formation, launching volleys of arrows at the enemy's cannon fodder.
The wizards followed behind, waving their wands and brewing powerful spells.
In the midst of this tense atmosphere, Ash blended into the group, symbolically fulfilling his role by hurling fireballs into the dense enemy lines.
He had hoped to simply go through the motions, fishing in troubled waters, while looking for an opportunity to escape. But the situation was more serious than he had imagined.
Just as the two armies clashed, a cavalry unit suddenly emerged from the flank, like a sharp sword cutting through the supporting troops. They charged forward, swords gleaming through the dust, heading straight for the magicians.
Magicians of this era were generally slow in casting spells, and they particularly lacked ways to counter surprise attacks. This was why they had been issued sabers from the beginning.
In an instant, screams rang out around Ash, and the nightmare of battle unfolded before him.
The world turned red with blood as his former companions fell one by one. Yet in the midst of this chaos, Ash's mastery of gravity magic allowed him to stand out.
However, by the time the battle that lasted several hours came to an end, most of his teammates had perished. The only one left alive beside him was the middle-aged woman, who had clung to life with all her strength. She still knelt on the ground, barely breathing...
"...You're really amazing. Can belief really increase someone's chance of survival?" Ash muttered, looking at the woman whose throat had been slashed by a knight's sword, blood pouring from the wound as she tried desperately to stop it.
When he saw a priest running over to administer emergency treatment, Ash couldn't help but feel surprised she was still alive.
As the priest tended to the woman, Ash walked around, surveying the battlefield. Corpses littered the ground, and Ash realized they were the only two left from their entire team. Yet this was considered fortunate—out of more than 30 in their squadron, fewer than 10 remained.
He stood there in a daze, staring blankly at his hands, which were once again stained with blood.
Shifting his gaze from his blood-covered hands, he looked up.
Wherever the wind and snow reached, bodies lay buried beneath the sudden heavy snowfall.
The snow and blood created a chillingly beautiful yet brutal scene.
"Is this... a real war?"
Ash murmured to himself, unsure whether he was thankful to be alive or overwhelmed by the horrific sight before him.
But regardless, in the face of this war... such thoughts seemed utterly insignificant.