Chapter 198

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Chapter 198: A Familiar Battlefield

Central ‍‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‍Astria Kingdom, Eastern Border Region.

NovelFire reader preview #ce13bebbac5c (issued 2026-07-17).

The wind changed direction. The cold current blowing from the north drew up the wet, sweltering air of the south. A faint mist settled along every ridge of the hills.

The Mountain Rabbits were advancing toward the eastern defense line.

The sound of hooves alternately striking the earth rang out in a steady rhythm. The horses were full of vigor, and the grip on the reins was light. Though the road led to a battlefield, their expressions were as composed as farmers heading to their fields.

"Complaining about food—now that's truly the most important thing. Even in war, you eat well and sleep well so you have less regret when you die."

A short distance behind the lead, Volga muttered to the rider beside him while seated on horseback. Romance laughed in disbelief.

"You're still on that?"

"Which is exactly why."

Volga patted the leather pouch hanging at his hip.

"We arrive at the eastern front and the food is lousy? Then I'll smash my allies before I smash the enemy."

Hearing that, the dwarf Nuri Sarui let out a whistle.

"Typical Volga. If I'd only ever met someone like him, I'd have had a real bias against humans. Remarkably honest about his instincts."

"Stop talking nonsense and hold your reins properly. If you topple over there, it's your face that gets trampled under the hooves."

"Hahaha."

A brief exchange of bickering followed. Basim, watching silently, sniffled and cut in.

"Speaking of food."

He fidgeted continuously in the saddle, seemingly bothered by the rope—his only safety device.

"If your guts fall out, roll them up and bring them over. We're short on meat for dinner."

The surroundings went quiet for a moment, then laughter burst out.

"Whose would it be, Your Dwarf Majesty?"

When Kotchap asked, Basim squinted.

"Does meat come with a name tag? Doesn't matter whose. If it's from a Mountain Rabbit, they'd all be about the same. Rank and putrid."

One after another, nonsense tangled with more nonsense. For a while, this kind of exchange went on among the front row of the cavalry. Some had grown weary from the war in the north, and others had returned to their families—but they had chosen the mercenary company again. Those gathered here were the ones who had chosen the same path to the very end.

And so, even the most absurd jokes were accepted without dismissal.

Even the elves were no different.

"Regrettably, we elves don't eat the entrails of beasts. No matter how hungry, we wouldn't stoop to that."

"Oh, please. You'll eat it when you're hungry enough. The pretentious act—"

Just as Basim was about to scoff loudly, Airien slipped in a single remark.

"Yours is the act."

"……"

"……This woman—?"

Before Basim could flare up, laughter erupted from those around him. Hadiya was practically clutching her sides, and Volga threw his head back until his uvula showed. Zahira, Marik, and even the mage Yelayen couldn't hold back their laughter.

A clean hit.

The dwarf flushed, but since it was an undeniable fact, he had nothing to counter with. Not a soul anymore called them lowly.

Romance couldn't stop laughing at Airien's riposte either—but at that moment, his head turned forward. He'd heard a familiar voice.

"Cook Comrade, my friend—do you know what love is?"

It was Gregor. The old man with no memories was calmly speaking to Calix at his side.

"Love, you say?"

"Yes, love."

Gregor nodded. Dirt was caked deep in the creases of his face, but the gentleness in his expression was perfectly clear.

"Before the war, I think I loved someone too."

The veteran mercenaries grumbled,

"Here we go again" but Captain Royce listened quietly to the two of them.

"Who did you love? Do you remember their name?"

"Ah……"

Gregor, as expected, couldn't quite recall.

"Well, what good would it do to remember now?"

He shrugged and forced himself to settle.

"That woman must already be dead. But I'm still alive!"

A few let out a short laugh. Calix, on the other hand, gave a small smile and patted the old man gently.

"Very Mountain Rabbit of you. The one who survives is the one who wins."

"That's right."

Gregor muttered with a look of contentment.

"Still being alive means you haven't settled your debt yet."

After those words, a strange stillness passed briefly. Some took it as a joke; others went quiet for a moment. But even that gap didn't last long. They were people who knew how to keep company with death.

Just then, Royce raised his fist.

"……A dust cloud."

Calix moved forward and drew level with the captain's shoulder. Far in the distance, a faint plume of smoke was rising beyond the hill.

"Yes. Something has definitely happened at the defense line."

Immediately after, the Mountain Rabbits' pace quickened. But until the cavalry crested the hill, the jokes, whistles, and banter soaked in profanity did not cease.

That was their way.

* * *

The air beyond the hill was entirely different.

The wind still blew, but what it carried had changed. Instead of earth and grass, a terrible smell of char and rotting flesh stabbed at the nose. At the far end of the horizon was a forest, and before it stretched a wide plain.

It was the position held by Master Belmar.

"Hold the line! Don't lower the spears!"

The wooden palisade was barely holding. The hands gripping the spear shafts trembled, and armor straps snapped unnoticed. Soldiers who had been dozing off were mixed in among the rest—and yet, at minimum, the defense line had not collapsed.

The problem was that there was no one to relieve them.

The infantry of the Astria Kingdom had been holding out for days without proper rest. The initial joy of fighting alongside the different races of the Viale Alliance had not lasted long. The backs of their hands were layered with dried scabs instead of calluses, and even the knights were exhaling in labored gasps like the sick.

"They're swarming again!!"

A young commander screamed until his throat tore. His scabbard was nowhere to be found, and the blood on his blade had dried and blackened.

"Hold to the wall! A gap has been torn through the northern palisade!"

The words didn't reach the soldiers' ears properly. The drumming swallowed the commander's shouts. They'd heard similar cries yesterday, and the day before. Almost no one remembered when they had first started fighting—or when they had last rested.

The enemy's assault did not stop.

A shriek erupted from the front. It was not human. The Corrupted—with skin cracked black and arms twisted out of shape—surged in like a flood.

At that moment, the trees of the forest swayed in a strange way. It wasn't the wind. A black mass pushed out between the trees. Its torso was the size of 4 men combined, and its spine rose in grotesque protrusions. It had no eyes, but pale, loose chunks of flesh dangled all across its body.

Then a deep shadow fell across the palisade.

"The wall…… Is being torn apart!"

Bang!!

The beast slammed headlong into the palisade. The wooden posts were ripped out one after another and came crashing down.

"Is Master Belmar not coming……"

A knight's words, laced with despair, said everything about the situation. It wasn't merely a gap—an entire section of wall had collapsed in one piece. The soldiers stepped back, pale with fear.

If not for him, it likely would have crumbled right then.

Shwiiing!

Amidst the howls of the monsters, a silver arrow shot through like a streak. It pierced through the jaw of a Corrupted that had turned to look behind, spraying a dark red liquid. The one who had loosed that arrow held a bowstave that looked as though it had been woven from vines.

It was Luen Silius.

Elder of the Viale Alliance, and Airien's father.

"Do not fear."

Luen drew his silver longsword and moved to the front. The words he spoke to the elven warriors were, in truth, encouragement addressed to himself. As he scattered silver flashes of light, the warriors of his tribe followed behind.

The power of the spirits rose beneath his feet.

The wind swirled, and his blade swept across the beast's forearm. The great beast's first step momentarily halted. With consecutive attacks, its second step slowed.

But the third step—he could not stop.

With a thunderous boom, the palisade nearby was blown apart. Soil and chunks of flesh showered down on the soldiers' heads. Luen's knees buckled briefly.

He too was exhausted.

Drawing a sharp breath, he forced the scattering spiritual energy to hold. Luen waved off the hands reaching to support him and gave a brief gesture.

‘Go. Fight.’

The elven warriors gritted their teeth and raised their swords.

But already, the beasts were pouring through the palisade. With every step the great beast took, the ground shook heavily. There was nowhere left to fall back to.

"We must retreat now……"

It was precisely at the moment the Astrian commander was about to give the order.

A different tremor rose from beneath the earth.

Drdrdrdr.

It was an entirely different, regular rhythm from the footsteps of the Corrupted. A steady beat, unlike even the shockwaves of the great beast.

Beyond the horizon, from the northern hills, a long trail of dust arose. At first, it looked like smoke, but within it came the sound of metal clashing. Shields and armor and weapons rang out like instruments.

"……Cavalry? Could that be a Latia knighthood?"

Someone murmured under their breath.

"Latia is an island. They couldn't possibly send reinforcements this far."

"No!"

A soldier's eyes flew wide open as he cried out with a cracked throat.

"That crest! That's—!"

Through the dust, a single banner shot into the sky.

A lone beast leaping against the backdrop of a mountain peak. A figure bounding beneath the moonlight.

"The Mountain Rabbits!!"

A thousand riders crossed the hill and cut across the plain.

Calix was at the lead.

* * *

Calix pulled hard on the reins.

Amid the scent of metal and earth, the shape of the battlefield came through with vivid clarity. It wasn't blood or flesh he saw—it was a single flow.

The beast's cry spread like a distorted echo. Beyond the plain, thousands of the Corrupted came surging in a tangled mass. But Calix did not count their numbers.

The Corrupted's movements were simple. There were many of them, but they were not interlocked. Not a wave filling the plain, but fragments that had lost their direction.

‘The enemy isn't controlling the battlefield.’

Calix lowered his body and raised his sword. Even the massive beast visible in the distance was not the core. It was simply the largest fragment.

‘Numbers are meaningless. What must be broken……is the flow.’

Calix's blade set its direction.

That alone was enough. Hooves swept the earth with ferocity. The Mountain Rabbits following behind matched his pace and accelerated. They too were those who understood the battlefield.

Not the kind who fled or chased—but the kind who carved a path.

Before long, Calix's heart began discharging an immense tide of mana.

"We break through."

At those words alone, the Mountain Rabbits cut across the plain in unison. The beast's hideous outer frame blocked their view—but they advanced without a single moment of hesitation.

As iron and wind collided, the air around them seemed to tear apart in fine shreds.

The instant before impact.

Not a drop of blood had yet been spilled—and yet the battlefield already lay beneath the footsteps of one man.

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