Chapter 33

Crush magic. It was an abstract spell passed down through generations in the House Wintercrown, practically a trademark.

In her childhood, Aethlyn used that magic to pop apples or burst floating balloons. The further away the balloon was when it burst, the more fulfilled and delighted she felt.

With that exact same magic, she was now killing people. Killing Imperial infantry, killing artillerymen, killing mages.

Guilt was faint. The feeling of wanting to survive took precedence over everything else.

Wiping away the blood flowing from her nose with the back of her right hand, she followed Sergeant Vilev.

The two of them were headed for the Etal Pass. And they were going to survive.

Aethlyn and the wolf fought as if they were a single body. A perfect division of labor was established, with Aethlyn targeting the Imperial knights and the wolf targeting the wyvern. After bringing down an unknown number of enemies—she had lost count of how many creatures or people she had slain—they managed to push their way to the outer edge of the battlefield.

There were two paths leading to the Etal Pass. Either cross the northern plains of the battlefield, or take a detour through the coniferous forest visible in the distance.

Aethlyn and Gennadi knew where to go without having to speak to each other. Naturally, it was the latter. In this situation, an open plain was no different from a grave. It would be nothing less than inviting wyverns to “come eat me.”

Thus, the two limped toward the forest. Though it was certain that somewhere in her body had broken during the fierce battle, as long as she could escape on her own two legs, that was enough.

‘Don’t think. Thought is death.’

All the way to the forest, Aethlyn repeated the same phrase over and over like a prayer.

Her vision kept blurring, and her breathing grew increasingly ragged. The wolf, Sergeant Vilev, kept turning his head back as he walked ahead to check if she was following him properly. The sight of him felt strangely calming, like a rescue dog that had come to save a stranded hiker. As long as she kept following him, she felt like she might actually survive.

However, the relief was short-lived. Suddenly, the sergeant bypassed Aethlyn and violently spun around to hurl himself backward.

“…Vilev?”

Before long, a harsh metallic screech unlike anything ever heard in this world echoed in all directions. Aethlyn collapsed forward, clutching both ears.

‘I feel like my ears are bleeding!’

Barely pushing her battered body back up, she turned her head toward the source of the sound. And she nearly lost consciousness all over again.

Right before her eyes was a massive red wyvern.

‘Is that a dragon, not a wyvern?’

The wyvern was so huge that such a delusion briefly crossed her mind. It was comparable to a small windmill. A hysterical, unhinged laugh leaked from Aethlyn’s dry lips as she faced that overwhelming spectacle.

“Ha. Ha…”

In a dull, ash-gray battlefield, the red wyvern stood out starkly. The rider mounted upon it was also red from head to toe.

He was outfitted like a medieval knight. A sleek red helmet shaped like an eagle’s head, a red cape, and even red plate armor. On top of that, his right hand held a sword emitting a bizarre glow.

Aethlyn frowned and muttered to herself.

“The Red Knight?”

The Red Knight, one of the Empire’s Four Knights. His identity, having relatively recently replaced the previous one, had remained shrouded in veil until now. Yet here he was, this unidentified Red Knight, standing right in front of her. It was a reality she didn’t want to believe.

“Oh. Correct. Correct.”

Responding to Aethlyn’s murmur, the clear voice of a young man flowed out from beneath the red helmet. The Red Knight spoke in Estaian with a heavy Imperial accent.

“I am the Red Knight of the Empire.”

As if pride welled up just from mentioning that title, the knight lifted his chin high. At the same time, the wyvern he rode stepped forward close to Aethlyn.

A biting pressure that made it difficult to breathe washed over Aethlyn. As she staggered backward, a massive black shape suddenly cut between her and the wyvern.

It was the black wolf, Sergeant Vilev. Instead of rashly lunging at the wyvern, he kept his back to Aethlyn, taking a low posture to completely shield her.

“Good grief. To think there’s a mage who keeps a werewolf as a pet. Come to think of it, the mage brethren of Esta are truly fascinating.”

He clicked his tongue and shrugged one shoulder.

“I have no intention of insulting it. I watched it fight just now, and while it’s not quite a wyvern, it seems fairly useful. Doesn’t look half bad as a guard dog. Though I worry it might carry ticks.”

Aethlyn snapped back sharply.

“It’s not a pet. It’s my subordinate. Sergeant Vilev.”

Ha! A cheerful laugh spilled from the Red Knight’s helmet.

“…What is your name?”

“Gennadi Vilev.”

“No, not that thing’s name. Your name.”

“…Aethlyn Wintercrown.”

‘What on earth is he planning?’

The Red Knight’s behavior of asking for her name instead of killing her was bizarre. But to figure out his intent, Aethlyn’s condition was far too poor.

As the adrenaline of combat began to fade, sharp pains began to probe every nook and cranny of her body. Her right leg hurt the most.

She suspected she might have been grazed by a stray bullet in the heat of the frantic battle.

‘Is this really the end?’

Meanwhile, upon hearing Aethlyn’s name, the Red Knight seemed to fall into thought for a moment. He rolled her name over the tip of his tongue again and again, as if it were some kind of hard candy.

“Aethlyn. Aethlyn. Aethlyn Wintercrown… My word! The granddaughter of Arcan, Aethlyn Wintercrown?”

“……”

Arcan Wintercrown. At the sudden, unexpected mention of her grandfather’s name, Aethlyn was momentarily taken aback.

“Let me ask you again. Is your grandfather Arcan Wintercrown?”

Come to think of it, it wasn’t strange for the Red Knight to know her grandfather. Arcan Wintercrown had been an outstanding member of the Magic Army. There was no telling how many Imperial mages he had struck down.

‘We’re doomed.’

With a sense of resignation, Aethlyn said:

“…Yes. He is my grandfather.”

“……”

Before long, the strength drained completely from Aethlyn’s legs. Plop. Aethlyn collapsed forward from a kneeling position, supporting her weight with both palms flat on the ground. No matter how much she tried to stand, her right leg refused to obey.

Along with that, Sergeant Vilev’s body sank even lower to the ground, as if to completely block Aethlyn from the Red Knight’s line of sight.

The Red Knight seemed to pay no mind whatsoever to Aethlyn and Gennadi. He rambled on, intoxicated by his own emotions.

“My word. What an incredible coincidence. No, this isn’t a coincidence. It’s destiny!”

Her mind was growing hazy.

“To capture Arcan Wintercrown’s kin alive and drag her beneath the Triumphal Arch! There could be no clearer declaration of victory than this!”

Just as the man was delivering this long-winded speech, Aethlyn, barely clinging to the fraying threads of her fading consciousness, whispered ever so softly to Sergeant Vilev standing guard before her.

“Now is the chance. Sergeant. Run.”

Even though he surely heard her, the wolf didn’t even twitch an ear. Aethlyn spoke again, this time putting more force into it.

“Run into the forest. That’s an order.”

The sergeant still remained completely immobile. Annoyance surged up from within Aethlyn.

‘Hah. Of all times, why are you being so stubborn right now?’

She had said she would do anything to survive. This wasn’t a sacrifice or anything of the sort. Aethlyn was a lost cause anyway.

‘Whoever can survive should live.’

This time, she spoke in a soothing tone.

“I think I still have enough in me for one more bind spell. While I draw that person’s attention, get into the forest behind us right now. If it’s the sergeant, you can make it to the Etal Pass in no time. I…”

I can’t. I can’t even feel my right leg anymore. Aethlyn forcibly choked back the words rising to the very edge of her throat and finished her sentence.

“I’ll follow right after you, Sergeant. Anyway, run ahead first.”

Yet despite Aethlyn’s tearful persuasion, the wolf didn’t budge an inch. As he held his ground stubbornly, Aethlyn sharply scolded him.

“…I’m telling you to leave right now instead of acting like this. Even if I get taken prisoner, you will definitely die!”

Common sense dictated the Imperial Army would never keep a Wildman alive. Sergeant Vilev surely knew that as well, so her blood boiled wondering why he was being so stubborn.

“Please, Sergeant Vilev, run…”

“Excuse me?”

The knight, who had been rambling on excitedly for a while, sharply cut Aethlyn off.

“I am speaking, you know.”