"D-Dietrich. You were alive?"
Joy rippled across Marquis Briggs's face. As if there were no need to think any further,
he ran toward his son. What father would not be overjoyed when the son he had thought dead returned
alive and unharmed like this?
The moment the defensive formation collapsed so futilely, he and the rest of the high command had been able
to escape safely through a magic circle prepared in advance. Several high-ranking mages had already prepared
an escape route for the commanders. They had taken no part in the battle whatsoever, instead remaining in the rear
and devoting themselves to calculating the gaps in the spatial distortion field cast by the dragon. As a result, only the high command
had been able to get out safely. But Dietrich, who had been located in the collapsed central army section, his life or death
unknown, could not be brought along. If they delayed any longer, there was no guarantee
even they would be able to escape, so Marquis Briggs had no choice but to abandon his son
with tears in his eyes. As he fled, leaving his son in the jaws of death, he had wept tears of blood.
And yet Dietrich had returned alive and perfectly unharmed like this....
"Come here, my son."
Marquis Briggs tried to pull his son into his arms. Though he had been mocked since childhood
for his weak nature, to him he was flesh and blood that could not be exchanged for anyone else. But just as he was about to embrace him,
Dietrich abruptly shoved him away.
"Why? Why?"
In the eyes of the marquis, who staggered back, Dietrich's face appeared, stiff and hard.
"Please wait a moment, Father. I have something I must do."
"What?"
Leaving his father frozen in confusion, Dietrich strode away. Damon had already
spotted Sergei and was walking in that direction. With a hardened expression,
Dietrich took his place close behind Damon.
Soon after, the guards poured into the conference hall in a rush. With such a commotion
breaking out, it would have been absurd for them not to mobilize. They hurriedly
blocked the way before the lined-up nobles. Needless to say,
they had also sealed off the retreat without a single gap. But without even sparing them a glance,
Damon growled at Sergei without preamble.
"It's been a while, Duke Sergei."
Sergei's eyes narrowed faintly.
"Who are you?"
"Looks like you don't remember. That's rather disappointing."
Damon raised a hand and wiped the dust from his face. A face twisted so badly by blisters here and there
that it was difficult to recognize was revealed. Sergei soon realized who the other man was.
His appearance had been so distinctive that it remained clear in his memory.
"You, you are?"
"Looks like you finally remember, Sergei."
Unable to stand watching Damon continue to sneer, the captain of the guard shouted angrily.
"You insolent wretch. What is this outrageous talk before His Excellency the Duke?"
A strange light settled in Damon's eyes as he turned his head.
"Well, well? You're still holding on to your position, Captain."
At those words, the guard captain flinched and scrutinized Damon's face. His eyes widened in shock.
"You, you are?"
"I really was lucky to be expelled because of you. If not, I would still be
sitting through tedious lectures with those stuffy students."
"Wh-what did you say?"
"Seeing that a fellow like you hasn't been dismissed and is still hanging on, Icarotte's future looks very bright indeed."
"You... you..."
Ignoring the guard captain, whose body trembled with fury, Damon turned his head
back toward Sergei.
"You slipped away like a rat. Leaving all eighty thousand of those poor soldiers
in the jaws of death, at that."
"............"
"Don't you think that's terribly unfair? I don't know for what purpose you drove eighty thousand lives
to their deaths, but have you ever once thought about how the soldiers dying there might have felt?"
Blood slowly began to rise in Damon's eyes.
"I saw it while getting out. The orcs were mercilessly cutting off the heads of the surviving soldiers.
I truly wanted to show you the looks on their faces."
Sergei's tightly shut mouth finally opened.
"Of course I have never thought about it. Because I am the commander, and I must give orders strictly
from the position of a commander. In war, victory is far more important than the lives of soldiers.
If sacrificing soldiers can lead a war to victory, I can issue the same order as many times as necessary."
"Oh! Is that so?"
Damon's fist clenched. Sergei's numb voice continued on.
"Their sacrifice was an unavoidable decision in order to buy time. Of course, I make it clear that
my heart also aches greatly over their noble sacrifice. Taking that into account, I will permit
your insolence up to this point. I pay respect to the fact that you have returned alive, and in exchange,
I will not hold you responsible for today's rudeness. Withdraw. Go and receive a new assignment."
At that businesslike tone, Damon's temper finally exploded.
"You really know how to make a man furious. Listen. I don't care for what purpose
you gave that order. But because of your decision, my comrades died to the last man.
I will hold you, the one who gave the order, responsible for that."
Having finished speaking, Damon moved forward. Madness gradually began to appear in Sergei's eyes as well.
"If you do not withdraw here, I will have no choice but to charge you with a crime. This is your last chance."
"Heh heh heh! Until I beat your face into a pulp and console the vengeful spirits of eighty thousand soldiers,
I will not withdraw no matter what."
"I feel the same."
A youthful voice rang out beside Damon. Sergei turned his head and gave a bitter smile.
"I wondered who it was, and it turns out to be the sparring master of House Briggs. It's remarkable enough that you came back alive,
but your courage is even more commendable."
Dietrich's face flushed red.
"D-do not mock me."
"Of course, that cannot be called courage, but recklessness. I will commend you later for the merit of returning alive,
so withdraw for now. You are not of a status to act together with that man."
But Dietrich pretended not to hear and was drawing his sword. Since it had drunk deeply of orc blood,
it did not emit any particular sharp gleam, but there was dignity
in Dietrich's stance as he held the sword.
"Even if this is disobedience to orders and the crime of insulting a superior, I do not care.
I still cannot forget the eyes of the dying soldiers."
Sergei let out a long sigh and signaled to the guards arrayed around them.
"It cannot be helped. Guards, seize the intruders. If they resist, you may kill them, so subdue them
as swiftly as possible."
"Understood."
The guards drew their swords and began approaching the two. In particular, a glittering killing intent
even swirled in the guard captain's eyes. He had already finished composing a death list in secret.
'I should take this chance to kill that insolent bastard. Though I suppose I have no choice but to spare
the eldest son of House Briggs. His father won't remain still otherwise...'
He selected four guards separately and assigned them to Dietrich. He chose only those
with outstanding swordsmanship.
"You take Dietrich. His swordsmanship is no ordinary thing, so you must never let your guard down."
"Yes, sir."
The guards began to press in on the intruders as they had been trained. Because Damon had kept
walking forward, some distance had opened between him and Dietrich, and the guard captain thought that
truly fortunate. If a fierce melee broke out, Dietrich's body might accidentally
be wounded. Once the guards completely cut off the space between the two, the captain gave the order to attack.
"Attack all at once."
As soon as the order fell, the guards surged toward the intruders, flashing spears and swords.
"Th-this..."
Marquis Briggs stood blankly, his face stricken. He had never imagined that
Dietrich, who was usually obedient and gentle, would commit such a reckless act. Of course, the guards
would not kill him out of regard for his face, but even so, his worry was as high as a mountain. The way he fretted,
unable to stay still for fear his son might be hurt, fairly exuded paternal love. Sergei would surely
question him later, but Marquis Briggs did not care about that at all.
"This is serious. The boy has fought many practice matches, but he has no experience at all
in fighting one against many. What am I to do?"
In the meantime, the fight began. As expected, Dietrich was gradually being pushed back
by the guards' skilled chain attacks. Against guards of that caliber, even Dietrich, who had received his instruction,
could not rashly guarantee victory. Even if he were fighting them one on one.
But it was a situation Marquis Briggs could not possibly intervene in. In any case,
the one who had committed the offense was Dietrich, so Marquis Briggs could only hope
for Duke Sergei's lenient judgment. As his chest tightened with anxiety, screams suddenly
burst out simultaneously from behind him.
"Uwaaaak!"
"Keugh!"
The nobles' heads snapped toward the direction of the sound as if they had been slapped.
Most of the nobles had been staring only at Dietrich. Their eyes were soon dyed
with shock.
"Good heavens..."
"How can that be..."
There, a scene unfolded that was utterly impossible to believe.
As soon as the order fell, the guards rushed at Damon. The way they struck out mercilessly
with spears and swords showed they had no intention at all of leaving him alive. But Damon
had foreseen this much in advance. Of course, his preparations were perfect.
"Eat this!"
Damon cast Haste with the mana he had gathered to the limit. It was at the very instant
the guards' spears and swords were about to mercilessly tear into his body. His body began to move
at a terrifying speed, leaving only afterimages behind. Because of that, the spears and swords that came down
struck nothing but empty air.
"Huh!"
"Wh-what the hell?"
When the intruder suddenly disappeared from right before their eyes, the guards panicked. There were even
guards who lost their balance and tumbled to the floor as they were. Damon's body appeared
right behind them.
"You bastards, have a taste of this."
Four streaks of light flashed from Damon's right hand. They drove precisely toward
the guards' bodies. More precisely, toward the vital points not covered by armor.