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Bandike trembled at the distant sound of explosions. The touch of death seemed to linger at the edge of his jaw.

The scale of the Punitive Force he observed from afar was overwhelming. Especially the one who had just sliced off the leg of the Colossal Mech he should have been piloting—it was terrifying enough to haunt his dreams. Instinctively, he knew that the failure of the Demia Empire Academy revolution was because of that guy in the Colossal Mech.

Gilbert Lion Heart, was it? The memory of the Count of Lithuania, whom he had seen when he was forcibly conscripted long ago, resurfaced.

The offspring of a monster is indeed a monster.

With such a monster standing tall, it was no wonder the revolution had failed.

The reason he, the Chairman of the Resistance, was here was simple. He had switched the Colossal Mech to autonomous mode and fled before facing the Punitive Force. Just before the sortie, he had given a long, emotional speech, but it was all just a smokescreen.

The tears he shed were part of a show to buy time to escape. Foolishly, the Resistance members who trusted him were moved by his speech and fought the Punitive Force like moths to a flame, not a single one fleeing.

But he had no intention of being caught and beheaded here. Fighting head-on in such a place was nothing but a meaningless death.

A grand ambition to change the world?

For someone who had barely survived the battlefield and wandered from one shabby theater to another, such lofty dreams were out of reach. Worrying about making ends meet was already a luxury.

The Resistance itself had started by accident. That day, after finishing a theater performance and collecting his daily wage, he had gone to a bar. For someone barely scraping by, a day’s work and a drink were the only joys in life.

The problem was that meeting a certain man at the bar had blown things out of proportion. There was a man who had lost his family to the tyranny of a corrupt noble. He was drowning in alcohol, consumed by anger at the world and despair at his own helplessness.

Bandike, with his theatrical charm and acting skills, buttered the man up. He planned to humor him and get some free drinks.

But the man, inspired by Bandike’s words, started spouting insane ideas about changing the world. At first, Bandike dismissed it as drunken rambling, but soon everyone in the bar began to agree.

Coincidentally, everyone there had grievances against the nobility.

Some had lost family, others had their entire fortunes confiscated, and some had their lovers taken away. Each had their own tragic story.

Recalling that time, Bandike felt that everyone was caught up in a strange fervor. They seemed ready to leap into hell itself if it meant achieving their goals.

Feeling a sudden fear, Bandike tried to flee the bar. He thought that staying any longer might get him arrested for treason and executed.

But it was already too late. The people had already elevated Bandike, who had started the conversation, to their leader, and thus the Resistance was born.

As the Chairman of the Resistance, he spun tales he had picked up from his theater days. One of his plays had been an adaptation of the story of the Republic of Lespublika, which had established a republic far away. The script he had memorized then came in handy.

Moreover, the discovery of Bannerlet filled in the gaps. It was perfect for evading the Empire’s surveillance, and finding the Colossal Mech hidden there gave them the military strength they needed. It almost felt like heaven was on their side.

Perhaps that was why. Why a third-rate theater troupe member, who had barely learned to pilot a Colossal Mech using the power of ancient ruins, had the audacity to act as the true Chairman of the Resistance.

But dreams always end. As they began their activities, full of ambition, their problems started to surface everywhere. They had no funds, no information.

All they had was the Colossal Mech found in the ruins.

Some Resistance members had mercenary backgrounds, but they were no match for the Empire’s formally trained knights.

That was why Bandike woke from his long dream. The drunkard who had boldly suggested forming the Resistance had died, and when the Empire drew its sword, it was like a cold splash of water brought him back to his senses.

But the Empire, having formed the Punitive Force, had already found their hideout in Bannerlet. He realized then that they had come too far to turn back.

Bandike desperately racked his brain for a way to escape. Fortunately, he had found a cloak with concealment properties while exploring the ruins. It was an ancient artifact that could evade detection magic, and he planned to use it to escape.

Using his acting skills, he incited the people. He planned to slip away quietly while they fought the Punitive Force to the death. Thankfully, it seemed heaven hadn’t abandoned him yet, as he managed to escape just before the battle began, leading to the present moment.

‘Run away quickly. Run away and…!’

He vowed to escape and live like a dead mouse.

Bandike entered the dense forest of Bannerlet, trying to ignore the explosions behind him.

The area was rugged and densely wooded. With the concealment cloak, he judged it wasn’t impossible to escape undetected.

“Heh heh. Where are you going?”

“…!”

Bandike almost screamed at the sudden voice, covering his mouth with both hands. He was so focused on escaping quietly that the shock was even greater.

A silhouette of a person appeared in the deep shadows ahead.

“Not going to answer? That’s fine. But perhaps you should reconsider going forward. The Punitive Force is camped ahead, waiting to catch you.”

Bandike hesitated at the man’s confident tone, as if he already knew everything, despite the concealment magic.

Should he trust the man in the shadows? Or was he just testing him?

Various thoughts raced through his mind.

“No need to overthink it. I have a proposal that might not be bad for you. Even if you escape safely, how do you plan to live? The Empire’s eyes are everywhere.”

“W-who are you?”

Finally deciding, Bandike asked in a trembling voice.

“Me? No need to know that. Just know that you’re lucky.”

“Ah, I see. What should I do?”

“Good attitude. Quite perceptive. So, what should you do? I’ll tell you in due time. For now, come this way. It’s best to get out of here first.”

Bandike cautiously approached the man in the shadows.

Soon, the man and Bandike disappeared from Bannerlet. Not long after, Angelina’s Search Party arrived but found no trace of anyone.

***

Gilbert noticed something strange while subduing the struggling Colossal Mech. The Resistance Chairman’s Colossal Mech was moving in a specific pattern.

As far as he knew, such movements were typical of a generic Artificial Spirit in autonomous mode. With a sinking feeling, he tore open the cockpit entrance.

“Damn it.”

As he suspected, the cockpit was empty. To think he had fled. This was something Gilbert hadn’t anticipated.

This Resistance suppression operation was the main story of Tactical Combat. Brecht, the leader of the Resistance, was a man who had lost his family to the evil noble Malard and had drowned his sorrows in alcohol.

Living a life of daily drinking, he had formed the Resistance fueled by a desire for revenge against the noble who killed his family and the Empire that supported such nobles. On the surface, it was about establishing a republic where commoners wouldn’t be oppressed, but in reality, it was a tool for Brecht’s vengeance.

But a Resistance with no foundation had no chance of succeeding. In the midst of this, they made the fatal mistake of attacking the Demia Empire Academy, giving Seraphina a reason to intervene. As a result, they were crushed by the Punitive Force, meeting a tragic end.

The main story revolved around suppressing the Resistance Brecht had created, but now the leader himself wasn’t even in the Colossal Mech.

From Gilbert’s memory, Brecht was a man consumed by vengeance, not the type to flee even if it meant death. In countless playthroughs, Gilbert had killed or captured Brecht many times, but never had he chosen to flee.

Gilbert cursed in frustration, but the situation remained unchanged. He could only guess that this was another butterfly effect of the game becoming reality.

[Knight. We’ve searched the area but found no unregistered persons within detection range.]

“He must have already escaped. What a headache.”

The fact that the vengeful man had fled so coldly left a bitter aftertaste. A coldly insane opponent was always difficult to deal with.

[Is this… Did he really escape?]

Seraphina’s communication came through as she approached after clearing the surrounding Resistance. Her brows were slightly furrowed on the screen, clearly displeased at having missed the leader.

“My apologies. I should have noticed sooner.”

[Enough. I know you performed your duties admirably. No need for such words.]

“Thank you.”

[Still, it might be good to search the area just in case.]

“I’ll relay that to Sergeant Ian, Sergeant Angelina, and Sergeant Belfonair.”

[Very well. For now, handle the remaining troops.]

“Understood.”

After ending the communication, Seraphina moved her Colossal Mech to deal with the remaining Resistance members still fighting to the death. Gilbert, quietly watching, relayed Seraphina’s orders to the three sergeants and followed her.

His mind was a mess, but the battle wasn’t over yet, so he tried to clear his thoughts.

 

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