It was like a war horn signaling the beginning of a battle, or thunder foretelling a storm.

Or perhaps it was the yawn of something awakening after a long slumber, a roar of warning and declaration to the humans waiting beyond the cliffs.

Whether they had stood on the battlefield 15 years ago or not, at this moment, everyone froze in place. No one moved.

The clatter of a spear falling onto the wall echoed loudly. Both the monsters' assault and the human defense ceased, the clouds in the sky seemed to pause, and only the fading sunlight, casting its ever-changing red hue, marked the passage of time.

The commander gripped his sword tightly, staring beyond the wall. Just moments ago, the monsters had clung to the fortress, threatening to tear it down. Now, they had all vanished, as if they had never been there.

But no one pointed that out. Instead, they all stood in awe and fear, silenced by the presence beyond the horizon, the one whose single roar had overwhelmed the entire world.

"Be... Behemoth."

Someone finally spoke.

"That roar... Was that really Behemoth?"

"It’s here... It really came..."

The murmurs began to spread. Soldiers, knights, everyone on the wall was seized by an overwhelming fear, speaking of the invisible terror.

The commander snapped at the soldiers who had fallen into panic.

"Is this the time to be shaking in fear? The monsters are still trying to climb up from below, and you're just letting go of your spears?!"

He shouted even louder, kicking the spear that had fallen. It clattered down the steps, rolling below.

"How do you expect to defend the kingdom’s final stronghold like this? How will you protect the neck of this kingdom?!"

The commander was furiously gesturing beyond the wall as he yelled. But then his voice died as he turned to look at the scene beyond.

His outstretched finger trembled as he gazed into the distance.

"What the... What is this..."

He could hardly believe his eyes. The sea of monsters that had filled the wasteland was gone, as if it had been a mirage. The barren land beyond the wall was now empty, as if a tide had receded, leaving nothing but heaps of corpses in front of the fortress.

The commander’s fiery speech was cut short, and the atmosphere grew even colder. Paola shook her head at the sight.

"This is bad."

Maxime, who had been cautiously observing the area beyond the wall, turned his face toward Paola.

"Most of them have completely lost their fighting spirit. The only ones who seem to be holding onto their senses are those who experienced this 15 years ago. Someone needs to help them snap out of it..."

Paola frowned as she looked at Maxime.

"You seem to be handling it surprisingly well."

Maxime shrugged. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel fear, but he knew how to recover from it quickly.

"Can’t afford to be scared of something we haven’t even faced yet."

He had too many other things to fear—his curse, his family back in the estate, his fading sense of self, and his deteriorating body.

"It’s only right to fear it."

Paola gave Maxime a once-over.

"You don’t seem too terrified yourself, Sir."

Maxime watched as the soldiers and knights tried to pull themselves together. Even though the enemy was no longer there, it didn’t seem to matter to them.

"...Why don’t you step in, Sir?"

Paola sighed, clearly reluctant to agree with Maxime’s suggestion.

"Fear and hatred are closely intertwined, Maxime. I’m just barely hanging onto that line, and that’s why I’m holding up. If not, I’d be shaking on the ground like those soldiers, dropping my mace."

Paola spoke to Maxime quietly.

"That’s what Behemoth is. My deepest hatred tied up with my deepest fear. And my hatred for Behemoth has never once overcome my fear of it, Maxime."

Her hand trembled slightly.

"...Knowing what those soldiers are afraid of, I can’t say anything to them. I’m not the one who can rally them right now."

Paola’s tone was brutally honest. Maxime couldn’t argue with her.

The commander wasn’t giving any orders, and the soldiers and knights were standing in a pointless defensive stance. The few veterans who still had their wits about them were busy trying to snap the others out of their fear.

Just then, a figure approached where Maxime and Paola stood.

"Leave only the minimum number of people on the wall. The rest, get down."

It was the Margrave, his white hair tied back in a knot. Despite the fact that no one would have emerged from the battle unscathed, his armor was soaked in blood, a mess.

"Margrave...!"

The Margrave’s face was pale, and the blood splattered across it gave him the look of a barbarian warlord. But despite his fierce appearance, his voice trembled with faint fear. When the soldiers and knights didn’t immediately respond to his command, the Margrave shouted again, pushing them into action.

"Hurry up!"

Finally, the commander followed the Margrave’s order, giving his instructions.

"Leave only the essential personnel on the wall! Everyone else, get down! Move quickly!"

The veterans moved first, picking up discarded spears and using their ends to nudge the younger soldiers into action. They planned to hold the wall themselves after sending the others down.

"Get moving, you idiots."

"You think you can defend the wall when you’re pissing yourselves at the sound of a monster’s howl?"

The younger soldiers, cursing under their breath, reluctantly moved away from their posts. The Margrave sighed deeply and walked over to Paola. She couldn’t help but show her concern as she addressed him.

"...It looks like the situation is under control."

"For now, maybe. But after Behemoth’s roar, all those monsters just vanished. Damn it. What’s coming next?"

Paola looked out at the now-empty wasteland beyond the wall.

"How are things at the other sections?"

"We managed to hold off the attacks. But the morale is in the dirt, thanks to that damn Behemoth."

Though the Margrave spoke as if it didn’t bother him, his entire body was tense and stiff.

"We need to regroup. I don’t know why they suddenly retreated, but while we have this opening, we need to prepare ourselves for Behemoth."

Not that any amount of preparation would actually help us face it.

The Margrave added bitterly.

"Do you have a plan?"

"First, we need to assess the wounded and the dead. Then we need to burn those heaps of corpses piled up over there. To those damned monsters, that pile is both a food supply and a makeshift siege tower."

The Margrave glanced between Paola and Maxime, asking,

"Do either of you have any other suggestions? I’m open to them."

Naturally, Maxime was included in the offer. Perhaps it was because of his actions at the cliff earlier. Maxime met the Margrave’s anxious gaze, and a question suddenly came to mind.

"Margrave,"

The Margrave turned his head slightly toward Maxime.

"Is there something you’d like to suggest?"

"May I ask a question first?"

The Margrave nodded, signaling for him to go ahead. Maxime stared at the blood-soaked fortress wall before speaking.

"...If this wall falls, if the monsters break through—"

The Margrave’s expression briefly flickered, but Maxime ignored it and continued.

"—do we have a plan for what happens after?"

The Margrave looked at Maxime coldly. His eyes, those of a knight drenched in monster blood, were sharp. But this time, Maxime didn’t avert his gaze or back down. He met the Margrave’s stare, his own eyes calm and impassive.

"That’s a bold question, Maxime."

"This isn’t the time for pride, Margrave."

Maxime’s words were true. The Margrave exchanged glances with him for a long moment before sighing.

"...You’re right. We don’t have the luxury of worrying about things like 'the kingdom’s lifeline' or any of that nonsense right now."

If we cling to our pride, the kingdom’s lifeline might literally be cut.

"Yes... If this wall falls..."

The Margrave’s expression darkened. The fall of the wall was an unthinkable event. Even in the fiercest assaults, with monsters breaching the wall or giants hammering at it, the wall had always stood firm. Fifteen years ago, when the monster horde swept across the wasteland, this wall had never fallen.

But now, if the attacks grew fiercer than ever before, if this wall were to fall...

The Margrave stared at the cracked stone of the wall.

"...If this place falls, the second line of defense will automatically be in the Myra region. That’s where the refugees from the no-man’s land have already been taken."

The Margrave frowned as he glanced toward the road leading to the city. Down that path, like a supply road through a forest, lay the border city. It was a city that had once been filled with people but was now abandoned, the city that this wall had defended and the one that had stood as the wall’s support. It was half of the Margrave’s known world, and it was where he would someday die.

"...That city, the borderland, has magical formations installed all over it, placed there by the kingdom’s greatest mages after the war 15 years ago. They’re powerful enough to collapse the very ground beneath them."

The Margrave spoke with a bitter edge to his voice.

"If this fortress falls, that city will meet its end along with the monsters. It will become a grave for thousands of beasts. Though I don’t know if it’ll take Behemoth with it."

The Margrave tapped the hilt of his sword lightly.

"But no matter what, the forces in the no-man’s land will not allow Behemoth to reach the second line of defense, even if it means destroying the city."

The Margrave’s eyes sharpened, and the fear that had gripped him earlier seemed to fade away. Paola raised her eyebrows, impressed by his determination.

"...This place, or at least the borderlands, will be my grave."

The Margrave smiled grimly, saying that if the wall fell and the city was destroyed, his mission would have failed.

"You shouldn’t say such things. A commander shouldn’t be speaking about being ready to die."

Paola added coldly.

"If the commander is ready to die, how can those who follow him fight with their lives on the line?"

The Margrave chuckled at Paola’s remark.

"Those are just words, Paola. Don’t take them so seriously."

The Margrave shrugged and gave the order to stand down.

"You two should go down as well. Help with the corpse disposal. It’ll take all day to get through that mess."

If you want to sleep early, you'd better hurry up and help with the cleanup, the Margrave joked. The no-man’s land, once lit by a red sunset, was now bathed in a deep purple twilight.

"I’m going to die."

Maxime groaned as he returned to the camp. It seemed like he was the first to return. The lone lamp in the camp burned faintly, and there was no one else inside.

Gathering and burning what must have been hundreds of monster corpses was no easy task. In fact, it had been harder than the battle itself. Some of the mages had made the task easier, but that didn’t mean the knights and soldiers hadn’t suffered.

"Damn it."

Maxime collapsed onto the floor, groaning as the dull ache of muscle soreness crept through his body. His body wasn’t cooperating. Even today’s battle, which had consisted of cutting down a few monsters and running along the wall, had left him utterly exhausted.

"I shouldn’t have used mana back then."

The feeling of cutting down the werewolf as it leapt toward the soldiers was still vivid. In his haste, he had wrapped himself in mana and leaped into action. As a result, his insides felt wrecked, and his muscles screamed in pain. He tossed his cloak aside and folded it up as best as he could, but the cold of the no-man’s land’s summer night seeped through the ground, into his bones.

What memories had he lost today?

It felt like there were holes forming in his mind. He had realized this while talking with Christine during his leave. The curse wasn’t just eating away at his body, but at his mind as well.

And the worst part of it was that he didn’t even know what memories he had lost. He had no way of knowing what was disappearing, what he once knew but no longer remembered.

It was a dirty, frightening feeling. It was like waking up to find that a toe was missing, but believing that the toe had never been there in the first place.

Now it was a toe, but one day it could be his ankle, his calf, his thigh, his arm, his eye, his heart. For all he knew, the heart of his memories could already be gone.

Maxime’s mind swirled with these thoughts. Feeling restless, he left the tent. The area around the soldiers’ camp was gradually filling with knights and soldiers returning from their tasks.

"Hey, Maxime?"

A familiar voice called out to him. It was Roberto.

"Where are you going?"

"Just... taking a walk."

Maxime frowned at the stiffness in his own voice, something even he hadn’t expected. Roberto didn’t seem to notice, responding in his usual tone.

"Alright, but be back by lights out. Even though we don’t have to stand watch, we still need to sleep."

Maxime chuckled softly and walked away from Roberto. Roberto watched him with narrowed eyes until Maxime disappeared from sight.

This feels familiar, somehow.

Maxime thought to himself as he walked down the path with a lantern in hand. The barren wasteland, devoid of trees or grass, allowed the light to stretch far ahead of him. A stone rolled underfoot. This felt like something he had experienced before. Walking like this, with someone approaching from the distance.

Maxime unconsciously raised his lantern higher and came to a stop.

Ahead, someone was walking toward him. The silhouette was strangely familiar. The other person also lifted their lantern and stopped in place.

"Maxime?"

Theodora.

Maxime couldn’t meet her eyes, shadowed as they were by the deep darkness.