"...Alright, Alice, I understand the situation."
"I'm sorry."
Her voice was barely a whisper, her head bowed as she couldn't bear to meet his gaze. Lagon, her captain, had already heard about the failure of letting Unknown slip away—something she knew she should have prevented.
However, to her surprise, Lagon didn't chastise her as she had feared. Instead, his tone remained calm, devoid of anger.
"It's alright, do better next time."
The burly man, a wolf beastman with a scar running down his rugged face, gave her a reassuring pat on the back and ruffled her hair in a way that felt almost fatherly. He was the commander of the exploration battalion and, in many ways, had become her adoptive father.
"Alice, you're still very young. You have a strong sense of responsibility, and that's something admirable. But because of it, you tend to overthink and carry the weight of everything on your shoulders."
He offered her a warm smile, trying to comfort her. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Things like this happen. You'll get it next time, I'm sure of it."
"Commander..."
Her voice cracked slightly, and she felt a lump form in her throat as she tried to find the right words.
"What's wrong? Do you have something you want to say?" Lagon asked, noticing her hesitation.
"N-no, it's nothing major," Alice stammered, quickly shaking her head. She didn't want to burden him with her thoughts, not now.
She stood up from the chair in the management room, feeling the weight of the conversation lift slightly. After receiving the reconnaissance report about the next piece of the sword, she knew there was no time to waste.
Her mission was clear: find and recover it. But before she set out, there was one more person she needed to speak to.
"Your name... is Meat, right?"
Alice's voice was gentle yet deliberate as she addressed the man sitting slumped against a crate in the dimly lit storage room. She had come to meet the sole surviving member of the first scouting team.
Ever since the disastrous incident, Meat had fallen into despair, reduced to handling only logistical tasks for the battalion. His once bright eyes were now dull, reflecting his inner turmoil.
Hearing her voice, he barely looked up. "Vice-captain?"
"Alice Anneliese," she introduced herself with a respectful bow, her short golden hair bobbing gracefully as she lowered her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
She smiled softly—a kind, angelic expression meant to reassure him.
"I'm just a useless ogre," Meat muttered bitterly, looking away. "You don't have to be so polite."
"I respect everyone who has sacrificed themselves to protect this country," Alice replied firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "I believe this is the proper way to act."
Meat glanced at her briefly before his gaze shifted downward once again. "...If you say so."
Alice extended her hand toward him, a gesture of goodwill. For a moment, it seemed as though Meat might respond. But instead of taking her hand, he shifted back, a faint look of discomfort crossing his face.
"Could you... stay a little farther away from me?" he mumbled.
Alice froze, withdrawing her hand awkwardly. "...Um, sorry."
An uneasy silence settled between them before Meat sighed heavily. "Alright, so why are you here today? Surely you didn't come just to check on a lowly soldier like me, did you?"
"...Actually," Alice began, her tone becoming more serious, "I wanted to ask you about what happened before we arrived—and about that man in black armor."
The air in the room changed instantly. Meat's shoulders tensed, and his expression darkened.
"…"
"...."
Alice waited patiently, understanding that this wasn't easy for him. But the silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating.
Finally, Meat broke the stillness with a strained voice. "Sorry, but I don't know anything about him—not even his name."
His tone was flat, almost lifeless, carrying the weight of someone who had long since resigned himself to the pain. It was clear that he wasn't just withholding information; the memory itself seemed to suffocate him, an oppressive shroud that clung tightly to his spirit.
Alice watched him carefully, her sapphire eyes flickering with concern and urgency. She couldn't afford to wait for him to recover, not when so much was at stake.
"But... didn't he spare you? Surely, there must be a reason, right?" Her voice was steady but tinged with an edge of desperation, a plea for clarity amidst the fog of uncertainty.
Meat tensed, his shoulders trembling slightly as her words struck a nerve.
"…"
"I... begged," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The words fell from his lips like stones sinking into a deep abyss. "I begged for my life in front of the man who killed my two friends."
Alice's breath caught in her throat, her heart tightening as she listened.
"...I don't deserve to live," he continued, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. "They wouldn't have died if we hadn't gone through with that mission. If we had just..."
His words trailed off as his trembling hands rose to claw at his own face, his nails digging into his skin as if trying to tear away the guilt that had consumed him.
"And I should have died back then, too."
His voice grew chaotic, an unsteady mix of anguish and self-loathing that filled the room. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed uncontrollably, his body shaking with the force of his emotions.
"I'm sorry, Boar, Steel. I'm so sorry..."
Alice stood there, a silent witness to his breakdown. She clenched her fists at her sides, feeling the weight of her own helplessness pressing down on her. She had come seeking answers, but instead, she was confronted with the raw devastation of a man crushed by the consequences of their shared struggle.
Deep inside, she regretted not being able to change anything. She didn't think Lagon's decision to assassinate Unknown was wrong. He was a dangerous adversary, a genuine threat to their safety. But she couldn't help but wonder if things might have turned out differently had they chosen a different path—one that didn't make him their enemy.
Just as she began to step away, intending to give Meat the space he so clearly needed, his voice cut through the heavy silence.
"Wait..."
Alice froze mid-step, turning back toward him. His hands dropped to his sides, trembling but no longer clawing at his face. His tear-streaked eyes held a fragile resolve, as though he had finally found the courage to speak.
"…I'm sorry you had to see me in such a pathetic state," Meat said, his voice shaking as he wiped his tear-streaked face with trembling hands.
Alice softened her gaze, her expression gentle but firm. "I can understand; don't worry about it," she replied, her tone reassuring.
Meat hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his next words. Then he finally spoke, his voice heavy with the weight of his regrets.
"We shouldn't have made him our enemy. He's… not an evil person, but he can be merciless when necessary." His tone was laced with a mix of sorrow and admiration, a strange dichotomy that painted a clearer picture of the man they had faced.
Alice furrowed her brows, absorbing his words. "So, if you meet him again," Meat continued, his voice steadier now, "don't make him feel threatened. I'm sure he'll talk if we show some restraint."
She nodded slowly, a flicker of hope kindling in her heart. "…Thank you," she said softly, appreciating the rare moment of insight he had shared despite his pain.
"…" Meat fell silent again, retreating into the quiet solace of his thoughts. Alice lingered for a moment longer before turning away, leaving him to his grief and reflections. As she stepped out of the room, his words echoed in her mind, adding yet another layer of complexity to her mission.
"…Compromise, huh?"
Alice murmured the words to herself as she sat on the edge of her bed, her hand resting heavily on her forehead. She let out a deep sigh, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her like a storm cloud. Her preparations for the next mission were complete, and she had every intention of getting some rest before the battle.
Yet, no matter how hard she tried, sleep refused to come.
Her mind churned with conflicting emotions and unanswered questions.
The King wants to use the Eclipse Sword to stabilize the ley lines and restore the flow of magic, bringing life back to the land.
But to achieve that, he's willing to sacrifice ten million people.
The Darknight Order must have learned about this monstrous plan. That's why they sent him—to stop it.
Alice's sapphire eyes flickered with uncertainty as she stared at the floor. I can't blame him for not wanting to hand over the sword.
"…Ahh~~ This is so exhausting," she groaned, collapsing backward onto her bed. The soft mattress seemed to embrace her weary form, but it did little to soothe the storm inside her. She buried her face into the pillow, willing herself to block out the thoughts that wouldn't leave her alone.
I can't sleep.
The prospect of the upcoming battle loomed over her like a shadow. This time, the enemy wasn't a man shrouded in mystery. It was a Hydra—a legendary elite monster.
It's not human. It can't be reasoned with. And if I make even one mistake…
The thought of her own death flashed through her mind, and with it came the bitter realization that her teammates could meet the same fate.
She clenched her fists tightly against the pillow. In her previous battle with Unknown, she had been spared. For reasons she couldn't fully understand, he had chosen not to strike the killing blow. But the truth lingered at the edges of her mind—if he had been fully prepared, if he had truly wanted to fight to the end, she would not be here now.
"…No," she whispered, shaking her head as if to banish the dark thoughts. "I can't think about bad things like that."
She sat up, forcing a small smile onto her face as if trying to convince herself.
"Everything will surely turn out fine," she said softly, though the words felt hollow in the silence of the room.
"Alice, hey, what are you mumbling about?"
Sylvie's voice, soft but warm, cut through Alice's swirling thoughts. The door creaked open, and Sylvie stepped inside, her footsteps light. She had known Alice long enough to sense when something was off, even without being told.
Alice blinked, startled for a moment, before quickly brushing aside the weight of her emotions with a forced smile. "It's just typical teenage stuff, Sylvie, nothing to worry about."
Sylvie raised an eyebrow at the response, but didn't press further. Instead, she walked over to Alice, gently running her fingers through the silky strands of Alice's golden hair. The familiar touch calmed Alice in a way she hadn't expected. Sylvie's presence had always been a source of comfort, a grounding force in the chaos that often surrounded them.
She settled down next to Alice, sitting on the edge of the bed, and for a moment, the world outside the room seemed to fade away. In this space, they weren't vice-captain and corps manager; they were simply two friends—two women who had shared countless memories together.
"Do you remember?" Sylvie's voice softened, and a small smile tugged at her lips. "When we were little, I used to hold you to sleep whenever you were worried."
Alice's heart skipped a beat, a nostalgic warmth spreading through her chest. She couldn't help but laugh, though it was a slightly embarrassed sound. "Umu, I'm all grown up now, this is so embarrassing."
Sylvie chuckled softly, her affectionate smile lighting up the dimly lit room. "What's there to be embarrassed about?" she teased, her voice tinged with warmth. She released Alice from her embrace and lay back on the bed, stretching out lazily and staring up at the ceiling as if they didn't have the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Alice hesitated before replying, her voice light but distant. "Nothing. I just don't want a hug right now." She smiled brightly, her usual confident expression firmly in place, but it was a facade. Beneath that practiced ease, Alice was carefully concealing the turmoil brewing in her heart.
She couldn't let Sylvie, or anyone else, know what she was truly thinking. Those thoughts—doubts about their mission, about the ideals they were fighting for—were too far removed from the unwavering resolve expected of a leader like her.
Sylvie, oblivious to the conflict behind Alice's mask, hummed softly, content to simply share the quiet space with her friend.
But Alice's mind was restless.
'I wonder if our way is right,' she thought, her gaze drifting to the ceiling. Her sorrowful eyes betrayed the smile she wore, reflecting the questions she dared not voice aloud.
The King's plan, the sacrifices it demanded, the justifications they all clung to—it weighed heavily on her. The uncertainty gnawed at her, whispering doubts into her thoughts like a shadow she couldn't shake.
Alice curled her fingers into the fabric of her blanket, her grip tightening as if to steady herself. For now, she would keep these feelings locked away. She had no choice. As the vice-captain, as someone others relied on, she couldn't afford to falter—not when her team's belief in their mission depended on her unwavering resolve.
Yet, in the stillness of the room, as Sylvie quietly lay beside her, the sorrow in Alice's heart remained, a silent ache that no words or gestures could ease.