Chapter 172: Silver Runes, Crimson Flames
The riverbank was already a quagmire.
The pre-dawn fog drifted heavy with the stench of blood. Beneath thick grey clouds, the clash of steel and battle cries tangled and spread. The fierce struggle along the Rodir River had been raging on and on.
"Shield wall! Hold the line!"
The shout of Erdman Falter, commander of the Silver Shield Legion, cut across the current.
But even holding was agony.
Every time Brawk's axe came crashing down, the earth shook to its core. Clods of mud burst and scattered, and the soldiers nearby screamed. Something heavy and viscous splattered across their faces, though there was no telling what it was.
Through it all, the nobles of the Niboria Empire each fulfilled their assigned roles where they stood. They rallied soldiers spread across the front line and cut down enemies alongside the knights.
And yet, between those moments, they stole glances toward the center of the battlefield.
‘When will they break?’
They all shared the same thought. The Mountain Rabbits had been able to step to the forefront solely on account of Calix's authority.
Though the mercenary company's name had spread widely among commoners, the individual abilities of its members had yet to be recognized. It was only natural that they kept the eventual outcome in mind.
Yet the Mountain Rabbits did not break easily.
Pfwak!
Zahira steadied her breathing and hurled her javelin. Light flared along the blade, but the shaft shattered into several pieces before it could even sink into the monster's breastplate.
The moment the dark energy seeped up to her forearm, searing pain came flooding in.
"Ah—!"
Her feet tangled in an instant, leaving an opening for a counterattack.
At that moment, Volga came rushing in front of her.
"Fall back!"
His shout was slower than Brawk's axe.
Kwang—!!
The riverbed cracked apart, and mud and rock scattered in every direction. Volga reflexively raised his weapon to block, but shards of Rite-Stone sliced through his skin, sending blood flying.
Immediately, a sinister energy pierced into his very bones. Even so, he gritted his teeth and held on. He did not drop to one knee, nor did he let out a single groan.
How was Volga managing to hold out?
It was likely thanks to the sacred power pouring down from behind him. Led by Ella, waves of holy light drove back the darkness.
"Ella!"
Whether she had pushed herself too hard, Ella's breathing turned ragged. Her fingertips trembled, and the blood vessels in her eyes burst. By the time Sier cried out, she had staggered and crumpled to the ground.
Yet even the Order's support alone could not account for everything.
"Zahira—!!"
Volga's voice rang out. Brawk swung his axe again, aiming for Zahira's waist. Still reeling from the earlier blow, she couldn't dodge in time.
Volga flung himself forward, forgetting the pain. The arc of the axe and the iron mace collided in midair. After the long battle, his muscles were spent, his concentration badly scattered.
Even so, he did not retreat.
‘What is it that you need faith for, to step onto the Falling Fire? What in the world does that even mean?’
The answer to that long-pondered question was given to him, right there before his eyes.
It did not require some grand revelation. It was not so very far away.
……The desire to protect someone.
The moment Volga settled on a conviction of his own, flames erupted from his blunt mace.
A crimson light burst from the weapon in his hand. Heat forged in blood, a fire born of will—a single wish given form.
Falling Fire was not a realm seized by a stroke of luck.
The experience accumulated crossing back and forth across vast battlefields, the effort built up by stealing glances at his comrades' swordsmanship, the physical enhancement agent acquired from the imperial armory of the Niboria Empire—it was the layered culmination of everything built up within his body.
Sparks spread along the surface of the mace, blooming in full abandon. An instant later, Brawk's arm—where the weapons had locked—was pushed back ever so slightly.
"So long as this body stands, not a single step shall pass!"
The soldiers nearby looked up with startled eyes. Zahira stared blankly at the sight of flames and darkness clashing together.
Marik, too, watched that scene. To his eyes, this battlefield was a hell soaked in blood—yet even within it, hope still remained.
Suddenly, the look in his eyes changed.
‘Holding the line alone is not enough. I have to drive Brawk back and turn the tide.’
Marik no longer clung to the state of the front line. Instead, he looked deep within himself.
He heard something stirring. As if someone were answering their resolve, the current of the Rodir River twisted with a shallow shudder.
***
The far rear of the allied forces' formation.
Master Sevi Belgrado watched the battlefield through deeply sunken eyes. Brawk's roar rolled across the riverbank.
"……So this is the limit."
Volga's performance had been dazzling, but after consecutive battles, he had finally met his bounds. A monster's endurance could not be compared to a human body.
Even so, Belgrado let out a word of pure admiration.
"Another bud has grown."
Volga's body was soaked in blood, yet he still had not let go of his mace.
Should he step in now and save him? Had it been Imran Akran, he might have done so—but Belgrado's way was different.
‘Only those who have returned from the jaws of death earn the right to grow stronger.’
Above all, it was not his place to intervene.
Just then, Brawk let out a sneer edged with contempt. His two eyes were fixed on Volga, collapsed beneath his feet.
One of the two had been settled.
[Can you humans truly change this earth?]
True to the tongue of shadows, his voice was low and murky.
[It is futile struggle. Kriya has abandoned you as well.]
Brawk pressed the end of his axe down onto Volga's shoulder. Only then did a quiet groan escape. Flesh was crushed, blood and mud mingling together.
But the other one remained.
Marik raised his shield and struck the side of the enemy's weapon. He stepped between the monster and Volga, buying time until Zahira could reach them.
Kwang—Krrshrrrrch!!
Even with shield and sword locked together to block, he could not fully redirect all the force behind the axe blade. His ankles sank deep into the mud, but he twisted his arm and barely deflected it.
From the impact, his fingertips trembled finely. Volga was not the only one who was exhausted.
[Still you resist.]
Brawk sneered once more at the sight of him.
Marik tightened the strap on his shield and turned his head without a word. Behind him stood Volga, drenched in blood. His mace was dented and gouged in countless places, yet the light in his eyes had not gone out. He was shaking off Zahira's attempt to support him, trying to return to the battlefield.
Had he been able to rise properly, Marik would have fought shoulder to shoulder with him.
But now it had become entirely Marik's burden.
"This is the ground where I stand and hold, and those under my protection—though they may tremble with fear—shall not fall. If you truly wish to pass this way……"
The gazes of monster and man cross. Brawk's eyes held the shadows of darkness and destruction, while Marik's held—
"……Then walk over me."
Unwavering conviction seeped through.
In that moment, Ella's prayer quietly reached his ears. Rather than praising Kriya, she recited human courage, mutual trust, and hope for tomorrow. Her voice was small, yet somehow it seeped far and wide across the battlefield.
And Marik felt with certainty that those words were meant for him.
In an instant, a burning sensation spread across his wrist.
Silver runes blazed clearly across his skin. Spreading from his shoulder up to his nape. They blazed like fire, yet were not purely white. It was the moment Ella's sacred power and his own will converged into a single point.
Within Brawk's helmet, the crimson pupils widened.
[That power is……a remnant of Kriya?] "No."
Marik answered immediately.
"We are nothing but humans. We can become either darkness or light."
He straightened his back and set his stance for the second battle. On the shield thrust forward, silver runes had already transferred themselves. As though the metal itself had come alive, geometric lines intertwined and formed a rune of harmony.
The monster let out a roar laden with fury.
[A worthless wretch imitating a god!]
Brawk lowered his upper body like a beast and charged. The first blow was as heavy as ever. The axe struck the shield, and the metal split, scattering fragments.
But this time, no crack followed. Silver waves erupted outward like an explosion, instantly hurling back the enemy's massive weapon.
Almost without realizing it, the creature stepped back one pace, then two.
[What on earth is this……]
Marik looked down at the flames wreathing his blade's edge. They had taken the shape of Falling Fire, yet they were different from before. Not something received from Ella, but the divinity flowing from within his own body had melted into the flames.
And so, he spoke.
"This is my remorse."
[……?]
"It is the wrongs of a past I cannot undo, a wretched repentance…… and the desperate struggle of one who has no choice but to atone."
It was clearly not divine grace. It was simply that everything Marik had been carrying within him all this time had accumulated layer by layer, and emerged in the shape of a single form.
‘Is mankind good?’
Marik shook his head. He knew that he did not know the answer.
"Your turn, monster."
And in return, he asked.
"Are you evil?"
***
At that same moment, the mountain road on the opposite side of the riverbank.
Basim crouched low in the crevice of a rock above the ravine, hurrying through his final checks. A fierce cloud of dust was rising from the riverbank, but on this side as well—while no battle had yet broken out—a tension hung heavy in the air of a deciding confrontation.
He led the dwarves around to inspect the trap mechanisms. Boulders positioned with delicate precision near the cliff's edge were packed across the area, set to tumble at the slightest touch.
"Solid. Just need to give the signal."
When he muttered those words, the dwarves following behind him nodded with expressions full of pride. But the furrow on Basim's face refused to ease.
He looked down into the ravine below.
The grey sky up here was so sharp and clear. But below, the fog lay dense, making it difficult to even make out the contours of the rocks.
Cutting through that fog, the enemy's advance guard had entered inside. Blood-stained armor, an ominous aura, and the sound of breathing like that of a beast. Even without seeing them, he knew by experience.
"Down there…… Is our captain, huh……"
The mountain range was like a complex maze. There were dozens of branching paths within the ravine alone. If the enemy could not be properly lured, even the traps they had worked so hard to prepare would be utterly meaningless.
It was precisely for that reason that Royce had personally stepped forward.
"Basim, it's the signal!"
Just then, the agreed-upon signal rang out from the far end of the ravine. A fire arrow shot up into the sky, and the distinctive flute call of the Mountain Rabbits rang out.
Exactly twice.
Pee—eeek!!
No…… It was three times.
In an instant, the faces of the dwarves hardened. Something had gone wrong with the luring operation.
Basim instinctively scanned the gaps of the ravine. Black dust was surging, pushing aside the place where fog should have been, roiling forward.