Storms and lightning were pouring down on the battlefield.
The main cause of this was Elsy.
She had already emptied several bottles of magical potions, pouring all her strength into the attack.
Ian, who had been caught off guard by the corpse giant's strike, was in critical condition, evident to anyone watching.
Those who had rushed to save him were naturally in a state of urgency.
Of course, this included Seria, who had been watching in shock from afar.
Without even thinking, she reflexively issued a command.
"Sir Alex, let's enter the battlefield immediately!"
Her voice was smooth, a stark contrast to her formerly timid demeanor.
But there was no response from the knights of the Yurdena family, who should have complied with Seria's order.
Instead, the knights only looked at Seria with blank expressions.
Seria's brow furrowed, already in a state of discomfort.
Finally, the old knight Alex spoke up, representing the retainers.
"…Are you serious?"
Serious?
Seria, choked up by the question, couldn't help but shout in response.
"Of course it's not a lie! Right now, over there, Senior Ian is—"
"My lady."
But Alex's voice in response was calm.
Neither heavy nor light.
So Seria couldn't help but give him a puzzled look.
There was no sign of the usual defiance expected from a rebellious retainer on Alex's face.
Nor was there the stance of a soldier silently carrying out orders from a superior.
He merely asked her again.
"…Do you know the names of the soldiers?"
Seria bit her lip.
Time was of the essence—what on earth was he talking about?
However, Seria had yet to gain full recognition from the retainers.
In the North, they only follow those deemed worthy.
So even if Alex dared to engage in this cryptic exchange with her, no one tried to stop him. They merely watched with interest.
If this had been a battle for the fate of the Yurdena family, it might have been different, but to the Yurdena soldiers, this place was simply foreign territory.
They had the luxury of time.
The only one without that luxury was Seria.
Though she was boiling with anger, she had to continue speaking as calmly as possible.
"If there is anything lacking, I will make time to hear your advice later. But right now, Senior Ian's life is in jeopardy…"
"Sam has only a younger sister."
With that comment, Seria's words came to an abrupt halt.
The name "Sam" was a common one. Among the thousands of soldiers, there were bound to be several with that name.
But Alex didn't specify which one he was referring to.
It was as if "Sam," with this particular story, was the only one he knew of.
"And that little sister is lame. Sam has done everything he could for her since he was young… He became a family soldier because it offered a stable income."
Seria's blue eyes carefully observed Alex's expression.
But no matter how closely she looked, Alex showed no signs of lying.
At the very least, it was clear that he understood this "Sam" quite well.
And that wasn't all he had to say.
"Have you spoken to Hanson? He left an elderly mother and a pregnant wife back home. He worries who will take care of them if he dies."
"Aina is an unusual one. She's a hunter from the coniferous forest who lost her younger brother to an elf and joined for revenge. She says, if she doesn't do it, who else would avenge him?"
"Rex is the eldest of eight siblings. No matter how much he earns, it's never enough, so he enlisted. If he's gone, a few of them might even starve."
Each calm explanation left Seria increasingly flustered.
Seria had heard about the Northern tradition.
Northerners cherished their comrades.
It was an old custom for a newly appointed commander to memorize the names of the soldiers.
But this was the first time she'd encountered a knight who knew such detailed stories.
Most likely, Alex was an exceptionally unique commander.
The unfortunate fact was that it was Alex testing Seria now.
Whether or not she gained his approval would determine the weight of her command.
"These soldiers here are as irreplaceable to someone as much as Lord Ian is to you. A commander of the North must understand that weight."
The warriors of the North were known for their willingness to charge forward without sparing their lives.
This was thanks to the Northern culture of loyalty.
And that loyalty was never one-sided.
As much as soldiers trusted and depended on their commander, a commander only chose battlefields worthy of their soldiers' sacrifices.
This was not a test that a visibly anxious Seria could easily pass.
But it didn't matter.
Yurdena was a house of lions, and trials always came when you wanted to avoid them the most.
Seria understood this well enough.
Biting her lip, Seria thought.
So what?
Whether it was Sam, Hanson, or Aina, what did it matter how many of those people died?
Right there, Senior Ian was fighting!
Compared to Senior Ian, Seria felt even her own life was insignificant.
In the first place, Alex's words were unlikely to sway her.
She only wondered,
What would Senior Ian do in a moment like this?
The answer came to her almost immediately.
And in the next moment—
With a loud bang, Alex was thrown into the air.
Alex, who had been mounted on his horse, hadn't even had time to react.
He hadn't anticipated the attack when Seria's pommel struck him square in the chest.
Alex's body tumbled across the ground from the unexpected blow.
The impact seemed far greater than anticipated, and Alex, bewildered, coughed in surprise.
Above him, a chilling aura loomed.
"…Sir Alex, I am also a Northerner."
Her voice was colder than any blade.
In Seria's blue eyes, any trace of shadow had vanished.
"I am here on the command of my sister, the rightful heir of Yurdena, and her orders include supporting Senior Ian in times of crisis."
The dazed knights fixed their gazes on Seria.
The soldiers, who had been watching as if it were an amusing spectacle, did the same.
Every eye was wide with astonishment.
"Sir Alex, do you want to live? Or, is there anyone among the soldiers you named who wishes to live? If so, flee immediately."
A silence fell over them.
Northerners valued honor above all.
Running away like a coward was the ultimate shame.
"If not, do you want victory?"
"…My lady."
Still coughing, Alex struggled to his feet.
In the process, he gripped Seria's blade tightly with his gauntleted hand.
Seria could have severed his fingers if she summoned her aura, but thankfully, that didn't happen.
"This is clearly a battle where victory is unlikely."
"So what?"
That was all she said.
Staring intently at Alex, Seria's single response caused him to pound his chest and slowly lift his head.
He wore a fierce smile.
Chuckling, laughter spilled from his lips.
"A splendid battlefield for gaining honor… Well done, my lady. Yurdena should be like that. Strength over logic, honor over compassion!"
With that, Alex drew his sword.
The other knights followed suit, and the soldiers stomped in response.
The sharp clash of blades and the rumbling echoed, nearly dizzying.
"…I'll show you the skills of the one once called 'the Madman of Yurdena.'"
Hearing the old knight's burning voice, Seria let out a sigh of relief.
Northerners, after all…
Still, she was glad to be able to support Senior Ian.
Unaware that she, more than anyone, was embodying the spirit of the North.
Nearly a thousand soldiers surged into the battlefield like a tidal wave.
The heaps of flesh and corpses targeting Ian began to spray blood as they were slaughtered.
The pieces of the battle were falling into place, one by one.
This happened just before Ian regained consciousness.
---
Storms and lightning raged on.
The heaps of flesh and corpses advancing toward Ian had long since been incinerated. Since the Yurdena family soldiers had arrived, no further reinforcements had appeared.
The balance of power overwhelmingly favored Ian.
If it weren't for that "corpse giant."
The corpse giant seemed briefly bewildered by the sudden onslaught of lightning.
But only for a moment. Soon, the monster, having finished regenerating its head, was glaring at Ian.
Ian was still unconscious.
Elsy continued to drink potions and cast spells like a madwoman.
With each casting, her blood vessels pulsed violently.
Her veins felt as though they were drying up, and the blood vessels in her eyes had long since burst.
It hurt.
Blood vessels all over the arm channeling magic tore, leaving bruises. Each bruise brought with it an excruciating pain for Elsy.
Several times, she couldn't stifle her groans, causing her chanting to break.
Had she ever felt such pain before?
Elsy, her mind growing hazy, wondered.
Back when she fought alone against a hunting hound?
That had hurt too, but only briefly. This was the first time she willingly subjected herself to such pain.
Her whole body ached, her lungs were wracked with tightness.
Her eyes had long dried up, and with each strike of lightning, a stabbing pain shot through them.
Tears streamed down her face.
She wanted to collapse right there, to run away while sobbing.
But Elsy held on.
For the first time, she had left her family to choose her own destiny.
So, she felt she had to see it through.
Even if that end was a miserable death.
But the corpse giant, as if mocking Elsy, raised its fist high.
If it brought that fist down, Ian would be dead without a doubt.
So Elsy laughed.
"…Judgment of Light!"
With a thunderous roar, the battlefield was shaken.
Normally, lightning should strike first and then the thunder follows, but that roar was only a prelude to the next spell.
As bolts of residual lightning crackled, the corpse giant's head tilted upward.
An electric charge was gathering above its head.
And in the next moment—
With a tearing sound that split the air, a spear of lightning struck down.
Its power was incomparable to any of the large-scale spells she had cast before.
The corpse giant convulsed, its body trembling with spasms.
But even that was not enough to truly harm it.
All Elsy had hoped for was to draw the corpse giant's attention, even if just for a moment.
Slowly, the giant's gaze began to turn towards Elsy.
Elsy no longer had the strength to move.
Lying on the ground, she let out a wheezing laugh.
"...You monstrous bastard… can't you at least look my way?"
With trembling arms, she pushed herself up from the ground.
To make herself just a little more noticeable.
"Hey, you cowardly bastard! Who are you going to pick on first if you leave Lady Elsy alone? I'll take you on…!"
So, please, spare my master.
Elsy pleaded, gasping.
Her blue eyes were already fading.
But her wish never reached the ears of the evil god's servant.
The monster stared at Elsy for a moment, then dismissed her, seemingly uninterested.
It appeared to view Ian, who had at least managed a meaningful blow, as the more threatening opponent.
Elsy's eyes widened in shock.
"Hey, hey… hey, what are you doing?! I'm right here! There's a person here, you damn bastard!"
The corpse giant raised its fist once more.
Just as it was about to bring its massive bulk crashing down on Ian—
Suddenly, a complex geometric pattern began to form in the sky.
It was unmistakably the sign of an immensely powerful grand spell.
Before the corpse giant could react, chains of light shot down from each vertex of the magical formation drawn in the air.
It was lightning.
A symbolic attribute of the Lynella family, akin to a magical signature.
The chains wrapped around the corpse giant like a binding rope. No matter how much it struggled, the chains of light did not budge.
"Uwoooooo—!"
The roar of fury reverberated across the battlefield.
Elsy, who had watched this from beginning to end, was left in shock.
That magic circle—she had seen it somewhere before.
It was not a miracle that a lone mage could perform.
Only a properly trained corps of mages could achieve such a grand spell.
The sound of a potion bottle rolling on the ground snapped Elsy out of her daze.
A small vial rolled to a stop beside her.
Engraved on it was an emblem of two crossed laurels.
Elsy's eyes slowly turned to look behind her.
Standing there was a familiar figure.
"…Drink it."
It was Reynold.
---