Chapter 120
Chapter 120. Comrades and Resolve
Barbara washed down the barely edible sausage with ale, renewing her gratitude for her sturdy guts and the parents who had raised her strong.
(“Looks like this winter is going to be tough.”)
She peered outside at the flickering lights of the soldiers’ campfires, letting her thoughts flow within her.
At the front-line fortress, there was no sign of the expected pursuit from the Demon Lord’s army; all remaining forces, excluding the heroes, had successfully retreated.
It could be called a miracle that not even one seriously injured soldier was left behind.
However—there was an undeniable feeling of being let go on purpose.
As she gripped her mug tightly, Barbara felt it wasn’t a gesture of mercy but rather a mocking of their resolve, and it stung with humiliation.
Things were not all good, either. Despite receiving treatment, the wounded soldiers could not return to the frontlines immediately, and their burden weighed heavily on the beleaguered Defteros Kingdom.
Once a prosperous agricultural nation, much of their grain-producing regions had been ravaged by the Demon Lord’s army, severely worsening the food situation.
Transport from the supportive eastern regions had also stalled—likely due to spies or collaborators from the darkness. Consequently, whispers among the townsfolk suggested there would be countless starvation deaths this winter.
Yet, Barbara believed she would not be among them.
As valuable soldiers, they would likely receive the little food that remained, whether they liked it or not.
She had survived and was still eating to stay alive.
As she thought of the scattered heroes and the wise wolf Dogajin, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was profoundly out of place and pitiable.
“…What’s wrong, you look serious,”
Hessel, sitting across from her and sipping his ale, asked somewhat jokingly.
“…I was just thinking about how the good ones seem to die first,” she replied.
“True enough.”
Hessel nodded gravely.
“Looks like the bad ones, like you and me, have survived.”
“Do you consider yourself a bad one?”
She kicked his shin playfully from under the table.
“Ha! Just an unlucky one!”
He said that without pretending to be hurt and turned his eyes elsewhere.
“………”
The two of them sat silently for a moment, gazing out at the night sky.
“…How’s Charlotte doing?”
Hessel asked abruptly.
“She’s done for. It’d be best to send her to the rear quickly before the fighting opens,” Barbara said, shaking her head weakly as she leaned back in her chair.
“But even if we say that, she wouldn’t budge an inch.”
“………Probably not.”
Sighing in understanding, Hessel agreed.
Charlotte—the priestess Charlotte. She had been a raving mess when the heroes returned, and by the time they retreated from the fortress, she was like a soulless doll.
However, a few days later, she began to busily tend to the wounded, using every spare moment she could find.
It seemed she believed that healing as many soldiers as possible and rearranging their fighting forces would be the greatest revenge against the Demon Lord’s army.
Normally, priests who assist in healing are treated like gods of mercy on the battlefield, but even the strongest soldiers trembled in fear of Charlotte’s bloodshot eyes and overwhelming spirit.
“I won’t stop healing until my magic and life run out… That’s what she said. Once her magic runs out, I believe she’ll march in with her staff to fight,” Hessel said, his expression serious.
That look in her eyes—it seemed as if she were prepared for just that.
Ultimately, only the heroes were able to be honored properly in a last-ditch effort. Barbara knew that Charlotte kept an urn of the hero’s ashes safely in her room.
“The Holy Church’s folks are all like that, huh…”
Hessel said, tipping back his mug with a distant look in his eyes.
“We’re similar, but we’re all carrying our own burdens.”
Barbara forced down her own feelings with another gulp of ale. It tasted especially bitter today.
“…Hey, Barbara. Do you know about the assault operation?”
“From seven years ago? I know about it.”
Though it was never officially announced—rumor has it that the Holy Church and the elite of various races, with the cooperation of the White Dragon, charged into the Demon Lord’s castle.
It was literally a desperate mission. However, the reason this heroic act was not made public was simply that, as evidenced by the ongoing war, it ended in failure.
At least if they had wounded the Demon Lord, it might’ve been announced triumphantly as a great feat…
But in reality, shortly after the operation, the Demon Lord himself came to the frontline to demonstrate his continued presence and wreaked havoc.
Now the very existence of the assault operation had become an open secret—
“A friend of mine participated in that. After it was all over, I received a letter via the Holy Church.”
“Really? What a coincidence. I got one too.”
“Wait, you got one as well? Well, I suppose we both have notable connections, so it makes sense.”
Hessel chuckled. Barbara and Hessel were both sword saints with their own titles. It wasn’t surprising they would know someone who participated in such a major operation.
“It was like a light-hearted letter as if they were off on a little trip. ‘I’m going, see ya,’ it said.”
“Ha! Mine was the same kind of casual letter. ‘I’m going to punch the Demon Lord in the face to end this damn war…’”
While Barbara wore a nostalgic, yet somewhat melancholy expression, Hessel abruptly stopped pouring himself another ale.
“…I don’t mean to assume,”
he said, adjusting himself in his chair.
“Is that person’s name ‘Alexander’?”
Now it was Barbara’s turn to have a face like a pigeon that had just been hit by a rock.
“…‘The Indomitable Sacred Flame’?”
“Wait, is that the same guy?”
Barbara and Hessel exchanged surprised glances and burst into laughter.
Who would’ve thought such a coincidence existed? Despite fairly knowing Hessel, to finally discover this now felt absurdly funny and a bit sad.
Laughter dissolved into the somber air around them.
“He was a comrade.”
Hessel took a bite of a wilting apple.
“I fought shoulder to shoulder with him on the northern front for a while. After that, due to redeployment and other circumstances, we lost contact for some time. What a diligent guy, to write a letter when he thought it was his last.”
“Yeah. He helped me a lot during the war back in my hometown. I was just a young girl back then.”
“A young girl? You? I’m having a hard time picturing that.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Barbara kicked Hessel’s shin with a bit more force.
“…He really was a diligent and meddlesome man.”
She averted her eyes from Hessel, who grimaced in pain, and rested her chin on her hand on the table.
“His farewell was overwhelmingly casual and lighthearted. Yet he still enclosed gold coins, saying, ‘I don’t have any use for these anyway…’”
“Huh? I didn’t get anything like that.”
“Eh?”
Barbara and Hessel looked at each other again.
“The letter just said, ‘I’m going to charge the Demon Lord’s castle, punch the Demon Lord, and end the war. See ya!’…”
“…Am I the only one who got that? No wonder it included something like, ‘Here’s an early wedding gift; find a good partner!’ Ah, that man!”
Barbara started filling her mug with ale again, looking quite disgruntled.
“…”
However, Hessel wore a strangely serious expression, neither laughing nor crying.
“Hey, Barbara.”
“…What is it?”
she asked, raising her brow.
“Why don’t you take Charlotte and head to the rear?”
At that question, Barbara’s eyes widened sharply.
“…You mean to run away now?”
“It’s not about running away. But…”
Looking into the reflection of himself in the ale, Hessel continued.
“The next battle is going to be intense. You might not survive.”
His strong gaze locked onto Barbara.
“…I don’t want a good woman like you to die for nothing.”
“…”
Once again, she kicked Hessel’s shin.
“Don’t underestimate me.”
Setting her mug on the table, Barbara spoke quietly.
“I’m here to fight. I am—I am a Sword Saint, and as a member of the pro-Relphsi United Kingdom’s Da-Rosa Barony, I have a duty to risk my life for my country and former subjects!”
Her eyes blazed fiercely.
“Even if I’m a knight of a fallen country, even if I’m a woman—I have decided to dedicate my sword and life for my homeland and humanity! I will not allow anyone to mock my resolve!”
Hessel gasped. The woman sitting before him wasn’t an admired big sister, nor a renowned female warrior—but a noble from a fallen nation.
He was captivated by her battered face and beautifully fierce expression—
But he snapped back to reality when he saw the growing severity in Barbara’s eyes.
“…I apologize. I sincerely regret upsetting you.”
Hessel bowed deeply.
“However, I have no intention of mocking your resolve. I understand the depth of your commitment. …With that said, with that said…”
Hessel’s eyes glinted imploringly.
“…I still don’t want you to die…”
“…”
Quiet as a whisper, Barbara lowered her gaze.
“…I’m sorry for yelling.”
She let out a small sigh.
“But I’m afraid I won’t back down. And I have no intention of dying, not one bit.”
In her eyes lay a firm strength and will. It wasn’t out of desperation.
“…I heard that reinforcements from the Holy Church are coming. They should arrive within a month at the earliest.”
“! Is that true?”
“Also… I can’t shake the feeling that I need to serve the Demon Lord’s prince a taste of revenge. You need to pull yourself together! There’s a world of difference between diving into this with the intent to survive and starting out with a defeated mindset!”
With Barbara’s motivating words, Hessel found he could only chuckle bitterly.
“…You’re right! I’ve been really out of it lately!”
He admitted, straightening up.
“Ha ha! That kind of thing will just get you laughed at. By everyone!”
They exchanged smiles, unable to contain it.
Without either prompting the other, they raised their mugs.
“For everyone who scattered until now.”
“For our esteemed, common comrades.”
They clinked their mugs together.
““—Let’s fight together.””
