By the time Maxime fully regained consciousness, he had been moved from the carriage to a tent.

Maxime’s mind was still muddled by the effects of the drug. He couldn’t use mana to flush the remaining drug from his body. It was only because the drug’s effect had worn off that he had awoken from his deep sleep.

“Why…”

Maxime collapsed onto the floor of the tent. His hands and arms, which he used to brace himself, trembled uncontrollably. His shoulders followed suit, and soon, his entire body was shaking.

“Damn it…!”

Maxime forced his uncooperative body to kneel. He managed to get one leg under him, but both his raised and lowered knees shook violently. He pressed his hand down on his raised knee, trying to summon the strength to stand, but he couldn’t bring himself fully upright. His body wobbled and, with a loud crash, he fell forward once again.

Thud!

The commotion inside the tent prompted someone to rush in, parting the entrance. Maxime, his chin planted on the floor, caught a glimpse of the world outside through the tent flap. The sky was overcast, stained a hazy red. Maxime dragged himself forward, reaching out with his hand as he struggled.

“I need… to get up…”

“Stop! You mustn’t move!”

A soldier, wearing battle-worn armor, rushed over to help Maxime up. Maxime’s arm fell limp as the soldier hoisted him halfway off the ground.

The soldier carried Maxime over to the makeshift cot inside the tent. After placing Maxime down, the soldier checked his condition and asked,

“When did you wake up?”

“Just now… But, where am I…”

Maxime’s words broke off mid-sentence. His breathing was labored, and his head spun, making him dizzy.

“This is the last unit to leave Myura. We’re heading to the capital.”

“What?”

Maxime coughed as he spoke. Each time his body jerked from the coughing, it felt like a sharp blade was stabbing into his lungs. He swallowed dryly and asked again, his voice hoarse.

“You left Myura? What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. We had to leave Myura before the battle started.”

“Battle? But why am I here?”

The young soldier seemed frightened by Maxime’s pressing questions and took a step back before explaining.

“T-The Knight Commander Teodora Benning said you were injured… and unable to participate in the battle, so she ordered us to transport you.”

Maxime stared at the soldier, gripping his arm in disbelief.

“You were unconscious for a long time… You didn’t look well. We weren’t sure what injuries you had, but it seemed like you were gravely ill or severely wounded.”

Maxime shook his head violently, trying to process the reality of the situation. However, the lingering effects of the drug still clouded his mind, making it difficult to think clearly. He grabbed his head in frustration.

“How long… How long has it been since we left Myura?”

The soldier glanced outside.

“It’s been about two days.”

Maxime felt as if a heavy weight had dropped onto his chest.

“Two days…”

Had the battle already begun? If it had, how far had it progressed? Maxime tried to stand up.

“Sir, you’ll hurt yourself…”

“Let me see.”

Maxime pushed the soldier aside and stood up, though his steps were unsteady. Limping, he parted the tent flap and stepped outside. The retreating unit had stopped at the edge of a field where the trees of a dense forest began. As Maxime stumbled forward, he made eye contact with someone who had turned their head at the sound of rustling.

“You’re awake.”

Count Agon was sitting casually on a rock, stirring the fire with a stick. He looked familiar, sitting by the fire with something boiling in a pot hung over it. Smoke curled up from the pot, suggesting that something was being cooked.

Maxime, his face twisted with frustration, slowly approached the count. His steps were labored and sluggish.

“You don’t look well. You should rest a bit longer.”

Count Agon spoke in a calm tone. Although the sun was still up, the high altitude meant that night could fall suddenly. Maxime knew he couldn’t afford to wait any longer. The battle with the monstrous horde was going to be a short, decisive one. At most, it would last four days before the outcome was decided.

“Can I borrow a horse?”

Maxime didn’t waste time on pleasantries, getting straight to the point. Count Agon didn’t acknowledge his request.

“Or perhaps you’d like to eat outside? It might be a bit bothersome with all the bugs, but there’s something special about a meal outdoors.”

Count Agon prodded the pot with his stick as he spoke. Maxime, seeing that the count was trying to change the subject, simply stared at him without answering. When Maxime remained silent, Count Agon sighed.

“I can lend you a horse.”

But his eyes, contrary to his words, were indifferent as he looked at Maxime.

“But what do you think you can do if you go back?”

It was a reasonable question. Even if Maxime returned, it was unlikely that he could significantly impact the outcome of the battle. He might take down a few more monsters, but the odds were high that he’d end up collapsing from exhaustion. If he used his aura, he might be able to contribute more, but the consequences afterward were something he didn’t want to think about.

“The battle might already be over.”

As Count Agon suggested, it was possible that the forces in Myura had already killed Behemoth. With Teodora’s sword and the support of the other knights, it might be possible. The reinforcements from the kingdom could have arrived in time to help.

On the other hand, it was also possible that Behemoth had crushed the kingdom’s reinforcements, along with the knights and soldiers, and was now marching toward the capital. That seemed like the more likely scenario.

Either way, Maxime had no rational reason to return.

“So, just stay with us. It’s not like I don’t want to go back, you know.”

Count Agon’s voice softened slightly as he spoke of leading the soldiers to safety while knowing they had left others behind to die.

“The eldest daughter of the Benning family also asked me to take good care of you until you recover. She seems to care for you deeply. For her sake, it would be better if you stayed.”

Count Agon was right, and Maxime couldn’t argue with him.

“I…”

“Just sit down and eat something. If you’re tired, you can rest more. We’ll be moving again early tomorrow, so it’s best to get some rest.”

Maxime clenched his jaw.

“I have to go back.”

Count Agon raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re a stubborn one.”

He carefully lifted the pot, now boiling, from the fire and set it on the ground.

“Alright, let’s assume you need to go back. Why should I give up one of our valuable horses to you? Convince me.”

Maxime couldn’t say it was because he wanted to stay by the side of someone he cared about.

“How important is the presence of a knight who can use aura in battle? Surely you understand that.”

Maxime’s words made Count Agon frown.

“Looking at your current state, I’m not sure how much help you’d be.”

“There’s no time.”

Maxime’s impatience was evident. His golden eyes glinted coldly as he stared at the count, filled with determination and a hint of desperation.

Count Agon shook his head, realizing that Maxime would go as far as stealing a horse if it wasn’t given to him. There was no stopping him. If Count Agon didn’t lend him one, Maxime would likely take it by force. No one in their party could stop him once he’d made up his mind.

Count Agon sighed.

“I can’t just let you walk into certain death. How can I turn a blind eye and send you off?”

“I don’t have much time left anyway.”

Maxime coughed again, his voice hoarse. Count Agon looked at him with concern, but when he saw the urgency in Maxime’s eyes, he understood what he meant. A hint of pity colored his tone.

“…That’s probably why Teodora wanted to send you away in the first place. I can’t let you go, nameless knight. I won’t give you a horse.”

Maxime nodded. Though his body and mind were still unsteady, the drug’s effects were wearing off, and he was slowly regaining control over himself.

“Then, I have no choice.”

Maxime’s sudden change in demeanor put Count Agon on guard rather than at ease.

“If you won’t lend me a horse, I’ll just have to take one.”

Count Agon, realizing the futility of stopping him, raised both hands in surrender.

“You really are determined to go, aren’t you?”

Maxime’s stance remained firm. Count Agon stood face-to-face with him.

“And what if I bring my soldiers to stop you?”

“…”

At Count Agon’s signal, soldiers surrounded Maxime. Among them were several familiar faces—soldiers who had been injured in the uninhabited zone and were now recovering. Some were missing limbs, their bodies wrapped in bandages. Maxime even recognized a few who he had saved on the battlefield.

“Sir Maxime, I understand how you feel, but we can’t let you go.”

One of the soldiers stepped forward and spoke.

“You think you can stop me?”

Maxime sneered.

“I heard you were injured too badly to fight…”

Maxime let out a bitter laugh.

“I can fight. My arms and legs are still working.”

“You always were a joker, Sir Maxime.”

After a brief hesitation, one of the soldiers spoke up.

“Neither Deputy Commander Christine nor Knight Commander Teodora would want this.”

That was true. But losing them without even being there to try to help—that would be a regret worse than earning their hatred. Maxime, looking up at the sky with a hollow, bitter voice, said,

“If I lose them all, I’ll regret not being there until the day I die.”

A long silence fell over the group.

The veteran soldier leading the group locked eyes with Maxime for a long moment before speaking.

“…Go.”

He was the most senior soldier among them. The others looked at him as if questioning his decision. Count Agon stood by, listening but not interfering.

“I can’t stop the man who saved my life.”

The soldier stepped aside. Maxime locked eyes with him as he passed.

“…To be honest, we’re letting you go because we know we couldn’t stop you if we tried.”

Another soldier spoke as he, too, stepped aside. The group of soldiers began to murmur among themselves, but in the end, they all moved to allow Maxime to pass.

“There’s one horse left. It was brought here for you, Sir Maxime, in case you woke up.”

As Maxime grabbed the reins, the soldier added,

“So go, and come back safely.”

Maxime nodded gravely and mounted the horse. The animal neighed but didn’t resist as Maxime nudged it forward. The moment he loosened the reins and spurred it with his heels, the horse shot forward.

The wind whipped at Maxime as he rode, his eyes fixed ahead.

Into the swirling storm that awaited him, Maxime rode like a madman.

 

 

The first day.

The knights, after a hard-fought battle, managed to repel the initial onslaught of the monsters. Although there had been significant casualties, the loss was deemed acceptable for what was expected to be a short, decisive conflict.

Teodora fought at the front lines.

Whenever her platinum aura blazed, the monsters were swept away. She charged into the most dangerous areas without hesitation, wherever the strongest monsters were. It was thanks to her and the other knights wielding aura by her side that the hastily advanced front line could hold.

Christine and the other mages continuously unleashed spells. Thousands of monsters were killed by their magic.

The number of monsters pressing against the front line noticeably dwindled.

And then, the morning of the next day,

Behemoth finally showed itself, and within the first few moments of its attack, one-third of the remaining forces were wiped out.

The reinforcements from the capital had still not arrived.