Chapter 177: Eve of Memories
The air along the riverbank was cold. Yet around the campfire, it was strangely warm.
Calix sat gathered by the fire. Before him were the knights of the Niboria Empire—disciples of Master Sevi Belgrado, and sons of prominent noble houses.
Their silver-adorned breastplates, polished scabbards, and prideful gazes were things he had never encountered among mercenaries.
At first, they had made no secret of their wariness and jealousy, but those looks had since shifted to the complete opposite.
"……Then it would be good to add variation to one's attacks as well. The Niborian sword style is inherently aggressive, after all."
A young knight spoke. His name was Bern—from a viscounty family in the central region, he had said. He stared intently at the man across the fire.
"I was told that the stage of Empty Heart means letting go."
Then, Calix replied.
"But I think that's wrong."
The flames flickered, and the knights leaned in to listen.
"Life is a constant cycle of emptying and filling. What we cut away is not our attachments or lingering regrets—it is the current that runs through the world. And even in the moment of cutting, those things are changing."
At those words, a quiet breath escaped from among the knights.
Bern let out a short, bemused laugh and responded.
"So that's why it's called Flowing Water. Rather than forcing yourself to hold onto what tries to slip away, you move forward by yielding to the current."
Calix gave a nod, and a brief murmur of admiration drifted through the air.
That fleeting exchange had narrowed the great distance between them.
Just then, an older knight stepped forward. He produced a flask and passed cups around. In the firelight, a clear liquid poured with a gentle trickle. It was a fine, clear spirit—hard to come by on the battlefield.
"My name is Godin. I have the honor of serving House Drowe, humble as that may be."
"Godin, it is a pleasure."
Calix accepted the cup and exchanged greetings.
"Every time I go to war, I find myself asking the same question."
Godin raised his cup and spoke.
"Is this battle truly for the Empire? But now my thoughts have changed. A battle for the continent—that grand cause is something I have never encountered in all my years. Above all, what we follow is not the Emperor……"
He paused briefly and met Calix's eyes. The image of a young man was reflected in his gaze.
"It is one who knows the sword."
At those words, the air of the encampment shifted in a strange way. A mercenary from Astria let out a playful whistle, and Volga grinned beside him.
"So does that mean the knights are becoming Mountain Rabbits now?"
Surprisingly, Bern smiled back and replied.
"Mountain Rabbits……That's not a bad name."
Calix added nothing further. Instead, he tilted the cup in his hand slightly. Within it, in place of blood and ash, there was warmth.
He took a slow sip, then quietly opened his mouth.
"Niboria or Mountain Rabbits—it doesn't matter. What matters is that we don't forget why we fight."
On the surface, it was something said for everyone, but in truth, it was a vow made to himself.
"We fight to drive back the darkness. Humans, dwarves, and elves alike. Our ways are different, but we have gathered to protect the same thing. So that humans can live as humans, dwarves can live as dwarves, and elves can live as elves."
A brief silence fell. Only the fire made a soft pop. Those simple words resonated more deeply than any battle cry.
The old knight bowed his head and said.
"……It has been nearly ten years since I last heard words like these."
That single sentence completely changed the atmosphere. The firelight grew brighter, and the sound of cups clinking rang out among the mercenaries, knights, and soldiers.
And Calix, in the midst of it all, felt that he had a little more strength to press forward. Those who followed him—people of different names, different ages—had gathered beneath a single light.
In that moment, the sound of hoofbeats came from a distance.
"Calix!"
It was Hadiya.
* * *
"Calix!"
Hadiya's voice rang through the encampment. She leaped from her horse and wiped the dust from her cheek. Her breathing was uneven, and exhaustion was written deep across her face.
"I found an anomaly on the other side of the ridge."
She exhaled sharply.
"The ground is sinking in patches, and hot water is shooting up from bare earth. It's not a natural phenomenon. It felt like something was exerting pressure from below."
The conversation around the campfire fell silent at once.
The flames swayed in the currents of air, flickering a dark crimson.
"Did Verhas make a move?"
"No. He's dug in on the plain and hasn't budged. But a wall of earth and stone is growing every night and pausing briefly during the day. It's almost as if……It's alive."
Hadiya continued and raised her eyes.
"Some of the scouts say they saw people offering sacrifices to the wall."
"Sacrifices?"
"Yes. Everything from human prisoners to corpses—whatever they can get their hands on, apparently. Those who approached near the wall……never came back. It was as though they were being sucked into the earth, into the wall."
When the report ended, a brief silence followed. As the flames died down, only the sound of breathing could be heard.
Calix stroked his chin with his fingertips.
'A wall of earth and stone that grows every night.'
That single sentence lingered in his mind for a long while. It resembled the black steles that had risen across Elvra, and yet something was different.
"If that wall is the enemy's tool……It won't be a simple barrier."
As Calix murmured quietly, Hadiya gave a nod of confirmation.
"Exactly. It wasn't artificial at all. It was writhing—almost as if it were alive."
Then, a gentle voice seeped in through the gathered company.
"It is the power of a Legion Commander."
Turning his head, the figure of Mage Yelayen came into view. He had been trading wordplay with Gregor, but now straightened up, pressing a hand to the small of his back.
The mage's fingertips then traced a small illusion in the air. Within an earthy haze, a rippling pattern spread.
"A growing wall. This is not a simple earthquake or an expansion of magical power, my friend. It is something that feeds on memories."
"Memories, did you say?"
Calix asked.
"The class of magic Verhas employs reconstructs 'the traces of time'. Blood and earth, bones, forgotten souls. Some are resilient, others fragile. It gathers all of these and forges them into the memories of the land. That wall swallows the living and resurrects the forms of the dead."
Yelayen paused to steady his breath, then lowered his fingertips.
"……When the wall is complete, the world within it will be out of step with the one we know. It will not be battle—it will become a reenactment of memories."
Adrian naturally picked up where he left off.
"This time, time is on Verhas's side. If we leave it be, he'll finish the wall, and the troop numbers we've worked so hard to thin will swell again. The Corrupted hatcheries are scattered all over the place."
Even after hearing his assessment, Calix's expression did not change. He turned to Volga and gave a brief order.
"Effective immediately, all night movement is prohibited. Move only the elite forces to the northern ridge. Make sure supply lines remain uninterrupted."
It was a short, resolute command.
Finally, Royce stepped forward.
"So what do you plan to do now?"
"Before the wall is complete, we have to sever his memories."
Calix looked up at the towering gorge. Beyond it, a wall carved with darkness was waiting for him.
* * *
Immediately after Hadiya's report, the allied forces command called an urgent meeting. Calix looked down at the map spread across the table.
The scouting routes marked with red dots were incomplete. Half of them were clearly mapped, but beyond a certain perimeter, nothing was known.
Marik murmured quietly.
"Bows and throwing spears are useless against neural accelerators, but they've shown decent stopping power against The Corrupted. Since supplies have come in from northern Niboria, we'll be able to make more active use of them in the next battle."
At his words, Royce gave a nod.
"If we rain arrows down on them, we can slow their advance. The hunters will have to do their part."
"The terrain is the problem."
Following where Calix pointed, the gazes of the nobles converged. He traced a line along the plain with his fingertip.
"If the earth moves of its own accord, mounted units become useless. It's something we already experienced in the battle against Kohtan. Therefore, we must put heavy infantry at the front and push forward with support from the Order."
Suddenly, Volga asked.
"Can't we just……bring down that wall? What if we hit it with hammers or build siege weapons and knock it over?"
Yelayen and Adrian both shook their heads at the same time.
"That is no ordinary earth. It would likely absorb even the divine power of Kriya. The moment someone invokes the name of a god, Verhas's wall will attempt to mimic even that."
"What about activating the sacred sites in central Elvra to counter it? If we awaken the divine power—"
Pope Sier Lagrin offered an alternative, but Calix waved his hand and let out a breath.
'The Beacon of Souls showed no response. There is no assurance that the sacred sites will operate as we intend, nor any certainty that their power will prevail.'
Whether by chance or fate, at that very moment the flame of an oil lamp flickered faintly.
"Since the enemy's intent is clear, we must not play into their hands."
"What do you mean……?"
"We break through."
At Calix's words, the war council fell into silence.
He continued.
"Divine power must be used as a shield, not a sword. Rather than trying to tear down the wall, hold firm beneath it. Before his domain is complete, we will blanket the earth with our own footsteps."
After a brief silence, Master Sevi Belgrado gave a nod.
"I will follow the order. Looks like it will be a busy day again starting tomorrow."
Volga let out a laugh.
"A breakthrough—just hearing it makes my blood pump."
"It won't end with your blood pumping."
Calix immediately replied.
"He designed the battlefield, and we are the ones fighting inside it."
At those words, everyone's expression grew grave. The clerics of the Order called out the name of Kriya in low voices. The one difference from before, however, was that they had unconsciously turned their eyes toward a single man.
Vice-captain Marik quietly closed his eyes under the gazes pouring over him. The mark on the back of his hand emitted a faint glow.
'One who does not believe' bore the proof of faith.
Words he had spoken with his own mouth, yet not a single person had taken them seriously. They regarded his very existence as a revelation.
Someone whispered.
"The breath of a god rests upon your blade."
Naturally, Marik's answer was already decided.
"Not the breath of a god—merely the scent of someone who survived."
Ella had heard that exchange as well. She murmured quietly from her corner of the room.
"And yet, it is precisely such people that Kriya chooses."
"……Ella."
Marik could not bring himself to accept the fact that he had been chosen, but regardless, the new hope that had come was very close at hand.
* * *
Deep in the night, soldiers cleaned their weapons and armor, preparing for the next day. Smoke rising from fires throughout the encampment scattered among the stars.
Calix looked up at the sky without a word.
Beyond his field of vision, a dark presence rose like a curtain. As if to say: come if you dare. Just as he quietly touched the hilt of his scabbard, Gregor stepped up beside him and tossed out a remark.
"They say this battle will decide the fate of the north?"
"……Yes. But it won't be the last battle."
The old man and the young man gazed at the stars together. Beneath a hushed silence, they shared the same feeling. And soon—the Mountain Rabbit who had lost his memories set out for a battlefield blanketed in memories.
The departure was at the break of dawn.