The Shadow Of Defeat?

A week had passed since the subway began full-scale operations. Perhaps because the heavy advertising had worked, crowds had poured in from the very first day, eager to try it, and the stations had become quite congested.

Even now that the worst of the congestion had eased, people still swarmed in. Riding a train beneath the ground to get around—nothing could have been more novel, stimulating, and unfamiliar to people of this era.

People were even coming up from the provinces just to ride it, and it was expected that it would take quite some time before things truly settled down. In the midst of all that, a sudden piece of news reached the royal palace, and many ministers rushed into the conference hall.

Only after King Ian arrived could the meeting properly begin. The moment he sat down, Ian spoke toward Viscount Rubingston.

“I heard something unusual was detected at the front. Is what I briefly saw beforehand truly confirmed?”

“Yes, it is being confirmed as fact.”

“Is the Magnia Empire truly commanding monsters?”

That was why they had gathered: something that could only be called a “monster” had suddenly appeared on the battlefield. What mattered most was that it seemed to be moving under Magnia’s command.

“It would be best if you watched the footage first. Excuse me for a moment.”

At Rubingston’s signal, those stationed near the windows began drawing the curtains. One by one, every window was covered, and when the lamps were extinguished, the hall fell into darkness.

Then—whirrrr—

With a soft mechanical sound, the projector began to run. An image appeared across the wall, and battlefield footage started to play. It looked like any other front: machine-gun fire streaking across, shells bursting in flashes.

Then the scene changed, and something began to emerge.

Something ran across the battlefield.

It had a human shape, and it charged straight toward the Doicheun forces ahead.

The Doicheun soldiers hesitated at first, then opened up with interlocking fields of machine-gun fire. The charging figure toppled.

It seemed insane—charging openly through a battlefield with that much gunfire.

“Ah, the bullets…”

At someone’s hushed exclamation, it became clear: even after being hit, it still advanced forward for a time. Only after it was riddled like a beehive did it finally collapse. Its vitality was disturbingly tenacious.

And in truth, only a few hundred of them had appeared. Their results weren’t even that impressive. Yet the faces of several ministers had gone stiff.

They understood the battlefield value of what they had just seen.

The footage ended, and silence hung over the room. The lamps turned back on, the curtains were drawn aside, and the bright conference hall returned—only to be filled by Ian’s voice.

“Those weren’t human?”

“That is what it appears. They advanced without fear or hesitation—creatures that only moved forward.”

Ian involuntarily recalled the special agents and guardians used by the secret police—those he himself had created. Compared to the guardians, however, these were clearly inferior. If anything, a guardian would have broken through with far greater speed.

‘They’re similar to the special agents, though…’

Their near-absence of emotion made it feel that way. But unlike his agents, who looked fully human, these things had the outline of a human body while being unmistakably inhuman.

It made him suspect Magnia had produced some sort of biological weapon for specialized use.

Something about it felt unreal.

‘Then again… the things I’ve been doing aren’t exactly realistic either, but still—this is on another level.’

“Please look at these photographs. You’ll be able to see their features more clearly.”

As Rubingston spoke, photos were distributed. Compared to the footage, the still images were far clearer. It was black-and-white, so color couldn’t be confirmed, but the human-shaped body had a face with a single, enormous eye.

“According to eyewitness testimony, their entire bodies are white and muscular. And as you saw in the footage, it takes a great many bullets to silence them.”

“White Crystal?”

At Ian’s words, murmurs rippled through the hall. Everyone already knew that the White Crystal was a treasure recovered from ancient ruins. Hearing the King suggest a connection, the ministers looked at him with suspicion and doubt.

“We still need confirmation, but it is believed to be closely related.”

It was unlikely such beings had simply appeared out of nowhere. A deep link to the White Crystal was a reasonable assumption. The important point was that if things like that began appearing in greater numbers, the nature of the battlefield would change dramatically.

“If they came in the thousands, what do you think would happen?”

“Our assessment is that our trench lines would collapse almost immediately. In terms of utility, they may even be more effective than tanks.”

It wasn’t that tanks were bad. Tanks had thicker armor and overwhelming firepower compared to these creatures. But these things had the advantage of a human form—meaning more flexible operations were possible.

‘They wouldn’t fear sacrifice, and if you put steel plate armor on them, their resistance to bullets would rise even further. No—just giving them thick shields and pushing them forward could be even more effective.’

The fact Magnia hadn’t done that yet suggested this was still experimental—something they had only just begun deploying to observe results.

“If Magnia can mass-produce those, the battlefield’s flow will be completely rewritten.”

“Yes. If they can be produced at scale, they may even seize victory without sacrificing soldiers.”

“But it may not be something they can produce endlessly.”

“Yes. We cannot be certain yet. They have only appeared for the first time.”

“Since they’re likely to appear again, investigate more precisely. Their numbers will let us estimate how many they can mobilize, and what tactical roles they can fill.”

“Yes. We will continue more detailed surveillance.”

After Rubingston answered, Ian swept his gaze across the assembled ministers. Every one of them looked as though fear had taken root.

Ian forced a smile.

“Why are you all so stiff? Nothing is certain yet. Even if they have such biological weapons, it’s not as though they can threaten us directly.”

“Well… that is true.”

“It’s not like those things can cross the sea. What is there to worry about?”

“Hahaha. In the end, they still die to bullets all the same. So what is there to fear?”

They were trying hard to treat Magnia’s biological weapons as nothing special. Complacency was dangerous, but so was letting fear take over. Ian believed that a measured vigilance was enough.

The meeting ended—and before long, the feared development arrived. As if history were cycling back, biological weapons appeared again, now wearing armor.

They even carried shields, and reports came in that their charges were rapidly collapsing Doicheun lines.

Many nations watched Magnia with confusion and suspicion. How had they created such beings? At the same time, they couldn’t help but feel wary—fearful.

The key was that the emergence of these biological weapons had shifted the flow of the war. It wasn’t a one-sided steamroll—Doicheun forces were still powerful. If the creatures didn’t die easily, you simply poured more bullets into them.

And the biological weapons had clear weaknesses. Lacking reason, they were no different from beasts. They couldn’t distinguish ally from enemy, so they could only be driven straight forward. In that situation, even simple traps could catch them easily.

So once countermeasures stabilized, and methods to stop them were established, the pace of advance could be slowed.

But even so, compared to the past, battlefield advances inevitably accelerated.

Just as Emperor Jedic desired, faster advances became possible. Under these conditions, Doicheun was forced to pull troops away from the northern front to reinforce the increasingly difficult eastern theater.

That eased the pressure on the Noma Empire and reignited the spark of counterattack. As if venting years of resentment, Noma began throwing the forces they had amassed into the fight all at once.

A literal wave of manpower—fifteen million soldiers pushed forward.

Waaaaaah!

“Advance!”

“For His Imperial Majesty!”

“Kill the Doicheun soldiers!”

Across the white snowfield, Noma troops in white winter uniforms surged forward in swarms—so many it seemed they filled the entire horizon. Bullets and shells tore into them, yet they did not stop advancing.

Boom! Boom-boom! Boom! Boom-boom-boom! Boom!

Shells pounded the earth; everywhere, bodies with arms and legs blown away appeared—yet they kept coming. Some even drooled heavily as they continued forward. Looking closely, many of them were clearly not in their right minds.

That was because Noma’s troops had been made to inhale massive quantities of narcotics. With fear of death stripped away by drugs, the command drove them forward. Their sight was enough to chill even the Doicheun soldiers trying to stop them.

Enemies who kept advancing no matter how many you killed were terror itself. And with Doicheun already pulling forces away, their reduced strength could not hold the line as firmly.

Across the northern front, positions began to collapse.

Even if machine-gun barrels melted from continuous fire, the Noma troops climbed over piles of corpses and kept coming. Faced with that mad spectacle, defeat became impossible to ignore. After holding as long as they could, Doicheun forces were forced to retreat to a new rear line.

News of that retreat made even the Doicheun Emperor think of defeat. No matter how vast their resources, factories, and military power, four years of war had exhausted them.

War fatigue gnawed at them. Even internally, the sense that “this war must end” was beginning to spread. Under such conditions, talk of an armistice inevitably grew louder.

Yet the Emperor, out of pride, still shouted that surrender was impossible. And so Doicheun continued its defensive war, retreating step by step while forcing an immense war of attrition on every empire involved.

As the empires fought fiercely under this new flow of war, July finally arrived—meaning Princess Adrina’s birthday in the Polia Kingdom had come.

July 11 was Princess Adrina’s birthday. It was also the moment she would be recognized as an adult. Her birthday carried many meanings.

They had already promised marriage through their engagement ceremony, and now, having come of age, she could finally marry Ian, King of the Polia Kingdom.

The intent to hold the wedding had already been announced in advance. As a result, many people had already arrived in Polia. While the continent was filled with scenes of brutal war, inside the Polia Kingdom, a wedding was about to be held in peace.

Then July 20 arrived, and at last, the grand wedding began at the royal palace. Far more magnificent than the engagement ceremony before it, the wedding was held on a massive scale, attended by countless guests.

A king’s wedding was a major national event, and so vast crowds of citizens poured into the streets to celebrate. The number was said to reach one million.

Everyone celebrated the royal wedding. Since Ian had ascended the throne and still had no heir, there had always been an undercurrent of anxiety about the royal line. The engagement had eased that anxiety somewhat, but it had only been a temporary measure.

Now that the marriage was happening, many people brimmed with anticipation that an heir would soon be conceived.

And amid that expectation, Ian was in the midst of holding his wedding ceremony with Princess Adrina.