Chapter 111
In the Taran Kingdom’s camp.
A soldier on sentry duty suddenly jerked his head up, having dozed off without realizing it. Startled, the sleepiness clinging to his eyes vanished in an instant. He cautiously glanced around, wondering if anyone had noticed.
But the situation around him wasn’t much different. The soldier to his left and the one to his right were both nodding off, using their spears as props. They looked like chickens pecking at feed.
Relieved by the sight, the soldier let out a bold yawn—haaah. His mouth stretched to its limit before closing.
His dry, parched mouth felt stuffy, so he smacked his lips and gazed ahead with a listless expression. In the distance, the Phaelon Empire’s camp came into view. They were probably watching from over there as well.
But that was all. Since the first battle, not even a minor skirmish had occurred between the two nations. They had been in this standoff for five days now. A war without battles—it was bizarre.
Not that he wanted to clash with Phaelon. As a lowly foot soldier, he was grateful just to stay alive like this. If they could raise the white flag soon and withdraw from this battlefield, he’d ask for nothing more.
Another yawn escaped the soldier’s mouth. A lukewarm breath poured out. When his wide-open mouth finally closed, tears welled up at the corners of his eyes.
And so…
“Huh…?”
He thought he must have seen wrong because of his blurry vision. Otherwise…
The soldier rubbed his eyes vigorously with the back of his hand and stared straight ahead. His eyes, which should have quickly returned to boredom with a ‘Nah, I must’ve imagined it,’ instead grew wider and wider.
“Wh-what is that…!”
A wall of flames soaring to the sky was advancing toward the Phaelon Empire’s camp. It moved at a tremendous speed, as if riding a storm.
Was it a surprise attack from his own side? But that didn’t make sense. What kind of ambush in the world wouldn’t even inform the sentries?
As he thought this and reached out to wake the soldier next to him, a horn blared repeatedly from the Phaelon side. Heavy drumbeats—boom, boom—spread in all directions.
Even though it was a foreign signal, he could tell. That was the alarm for an ambush. An unexpected battle had begun. Sweat trickled down the soldier’s hand gripping his spear.
* * *
“Ambush!”
“All troops, prepare for battle!”
“Hurry!”
The night had passed, and dawn cast a pale blue light. Knights raced about on horseback, shouting orders, and the Phaelon Empire’s soldiers jolted awake in fright, one by one.
Soldiers who hadn’t even rubbed the sleep from their eyes anxiously scanned their comrades tangled together in sleep nearby. Soon realizing this was no dream, they hastily grabbed their armor.
In no time, the geared-up soldiers poured out of their tents in droves. Knights, acting on commanders’ orders, immediately relayed instructions to them.
Wide awake now—forget sleep—the soldiers began moving in perfect unison. Swallowing hard with tension, they gripped their weapons and prepared to face the enemy.
Yet what came was utter chaos.
If it had been an enormous army raiding the camp, they might have fought back somehow. If spears flew and swords swung, they would have thrust their own weapons forward and clung on for dear life.
But what invaded the Phaelon camp was a crimson inferno reminiscent of hell itself. An intruder that couldn’t be stabbed or slashed.
It dwarfed the fire that had broken out during the early march. It felt like a blazing sun approaching. The whole world seemed to be burning away.
Worse, the gusting wind fueled the flames’ advance. The massive, fortress-like wall of fire reached the front-line soldiers in an instant.
Overwhelmed, the soldiers were gripped by helplessness. If they couldn’t fight, they should at least flee to save their lives, but even that will had drained away completely. Their feet stuck to the ground as if glued, refusing to move.
From behind, knights shouted at them to retreat. But to the soldiers facing the writhing flames head-on—roaring fiercely—no sound reached their ears.
The horn signals blared multiple times, and massive sacks filled with sand and snow flew one after another toward the fire. Efforts to slow the blaze’s march. But it all felt like someone else’s problem.
The front-line soldiers stood there dazed, as if isolated on a deserted island, lost in thought.
So this is how I die.
Their eyes, filled with the fiercely raging flames, reflected only defeat.
It was then.
“!”
On the verge of being devoured by the soaring fire, the soldiers snapped back to their senses. Life returned to their eyes, which had been resigned to tragedy. The flames that had flickered right before their noses…
“No way…”
…were blocked by a coldly erected wall of ice.
“It’s going to collapse. Hurry and join the rear!”
A sharp urging voice reached the soldiers, who hadn’t even blinked. The figure issuing commands from horseback was Angela.
Without armor, her slender form fully exposed, she was pushing the soldiers’ backs more fiercely than any battlefield commander.
An inexplicable certainty filled the soldiers’ minds: this impossible miracle was her doing. So when they were even more stunned, a fierce voice slapped them like a blow to the cheek, urging them again.
“Everyone, snap out of it!”
It was a tremendous roar. As if each had been struck, the soldiers shuddered their shoulders and scrambled to evacuate to the rear.
In this unreal situation, some soldiers’ legs gave out, nearly crawling on all fours. It was a pitiful sight. But so what? If their will to survive had returned, even like this, it was a blessing.
“Angela! You need to fall back too.”
Kalian, who had followed her at some point, approached her side and said. His gaze flicked to the ice wall’s surface, now beading with droplets, before fixing on Angela. Meeting his direct stare, Angela nodded succinctly.
It was the moment when the two turned their horses simultaneously. Part of the ice barrier couldn’t withstand the onslaught of flames and shattered.
Shards of broken ice plunged threateningly into the ground like spears. The two maneuvered their horses this way and that to avoid them.
In the midst of it, one sharply honed ice fragment inevitably pierced straight through the hind leg of the horse Angela was riding.
The horse, galloping at full speed, collapsed. Angela, gripping the reins, was on the verge of being thrown off.
Gritting her teeth at the thought that she couldn’t avoid it, she braced herself. Even if the pain felt like death, she just had to endure it for a moment, and she’d heal. In that instant, with her eyes squeezed shut.
“Angela!”
A tremendous force snatched her arm. When she lifted her tightly closed eyelids, she found herself in a solid embrace.
“Hold on tight.”
Kalian, holding her with one hand while gripping the reins with the other, said. Angela, as if obeying an irresistible command, spread her arms and clung tightly to his waist.
Then, releasing his grip on Angela, Kalian removed his own helmet and placed it upside down over her head.
“Kalian!”
Angela’s eyes flew open in shock as she cried out. The assault of ice shards hadn’t ended. Just now, another section of the ice wall had exploded like a blast. If he were struck by those dagger-like flying fragments, Kalian would topple just like the horse that had carried her.
“What are you doing! This is for you to wear! I…!”
Angela struggled with one hand to remove the helmet Kalian had placed on her, voicing her discontent. But Kalian, as if he couldn’t hear, simply readjusted his hold on the reins.
“Kalian!”
She even shouted sharply right by his ear, but it was no use.
“If you keep squirming, we’ll both fall off.”
He controlled Angela with words that left no room for defiance. She had no choice but to cling to Kalian and pray for a safe escape from this place.
* * *
“That was unnecessary.”
Dismounting, Angela removed the helmet and thrust it firmly into Kalian’s arms. Fortunately, they had made it to the rear without incident, but what if a sharp ice shard had flown toward Kalian’s head? The mere thought sent a chill down her spine.
Come to think of it, the problem started with him stubbornly rescuing her from nearly falling off her horse. One wrong move, and they could have tumbled together. Angela might have been fine, but Kalian would have been left with no unbroken bones.
Angela hated how Kalian kept overexerting himself because of her. She could survive no matter what, so his excessive protection was unwarranted. The one who needed safeguarding wasn’t her, but rather Kalian.
“It’s dangerous. What if you’d gotten hurt?”
Angela scolded him sternly. Her voice halted Vigo’s approach toward Kalian and made Ian, who was heading toward Angela, unable to intervene.
Kalian glanced down at the helmet now in his hands, as if memorizing its engraved design, and spoke without taking his eyes off it.
“There’s nothing that puts me in more danger than seeing Angela get hurt right in front of me. That’s why I gave it to you.”
Only after placing a perfect period at the end of his sentence did Kalian look at Angela. In his pitch-black eyes pooled unspoken dissatisfaction. As if asking why she didn’t understand.
Just as Angela worried about Kalian, he worried about her in the same way. Her body that healed naturally meant nothing to him.
“So don’t give up so easily—protect yourself somehow and avoid getting hurt.”
How many times had she thought that it was okay to get injured because she’d heal anyway? Angela realized, as she tried to count the hazy number, that she had grown accustomed to a body she once feared.
Even so, in reality, it was better for her to get hurt than for Kalian to. She was about to urge him to refrain from dangerous actions for her sake.
Please, she would add, and Kalian would bend his stubbornness. Angela took a step toward him.
But her forward stride was halted by a strong force. Someone had roughly grabbed her wrist and spun her around.
“What have you done?”
The face now inches away belonged to Count Matterson. He demanded an explanation, snorting indignantly. At the same time, a sharp blade tip was aimed at Count Matterson’s throat.
The count’s distorted gaze followed the menacing sword. Passing the straight edge, through the hilt, and a bit further, the sword’s owner soon revealed himself. It was Kalian Florence.
“Ha…”
A scoff burst from Count Matterson’s lips. He might be the empire’s guardian, but he was still a count of commoner origin. Fundamentally different from ordinary nobles.
And yet, this man was pointing a sword at him, the head of the storied Matterson family? It was absurd. Just as Count Matterson was about to raise his voice in outrage.
“Touching a lady’s body without permission—I’ll forgive that rudeness given it’s wartime.”
Instead, it was Count Matterson who was rebuked in a chilling tone. Angela shook her wrist forcefully to shake off his hand. Then, as if brushing away something filthy, she dusted off the sleeve where his hand had touched.
“Kalian, it’s fine. I wasn’t that startled, so sheathe your sword.”
As if that weren’t enough, she completely branded Count Matterson as a scoundrel, acting as though Count Florence’s action in pointing the sword at him was entirely justified.
“Come on, okay?”
Soon, as Kalian swiftly withdrew the sword he had aimed, Angela smiled triumphantly, arching her eyebrows as if to say well done.
Count Matterson, dumbfounded, stared at Angela with his mouth agape. Her infamous reputation wasn’t for nothing. She was as cunning as a fox.
Thus, Count Matterson had to swallow the insult inflicted by Count Florence whole. If he made an issue of it, those soft lips that had soothed Florence would accuse him of harassing a woman.
Count Matterson barely suppressed the curses threatening to erupt.
