Chapter 45

"They keep swarming out one after another like gnats..."

The giant of a man’s words trailed off. His gaze shifted toward Harold—or more accurately, it fixed on Harold’s attire.

The crimson military uniform was, without a doubt, that of the Sarian Imperial Army.

"You... are you a Sarian soldier? Why do you interfere with me?"

"Hah. If you truly believe I'm an ally in this situation, you're a laughingstock. Your brain is clearly far too small for that frame of yours."

Harold’s preemptive verbal attack exploded. That unwavering attitude of his, constant no matter the time or place, felt incredibly reliable in this moment.

The veins in the man’s temples throbbed as he was laughed at.

Harold didn't miss the opening created by that momentary lapse. He shoved the man back from their clash of blades and delivered a heavy kick straight to his gut, right through the armor.

The blow seemed to do little damage, but the man—who clearly hadn't expected a kick to come flying—retreated with a stagger.

"Are they dead?"

Harold asked Yuno without taking his eyes off his opponent. "They" presumably referred to her fallen comrades.

"I don't know for sure. But some are heavily wounded, so..."

It was a perilous situation where every second counted. Furthermore, they were surrounded on all sides by enemy soldiers; their survival was almost hopeless.

Whether Harold understood the gravity of their plight or not, his response was curt.

"I see."

Just two words.

Yet, contained within them was a quiet, unmistakable fury.

Harold threw the recovery items he had on hand toward Yuno’s feet. There were supplies to heal wounds and others to restore magic power—he had come prepared with both.

"You can use Healing magic, right? Use every last drop of it to fix them up. If they’re dead, knock them awake first, then heal them."

"You certainly ask for the impossible~"

Responding in her usual light tone, Yuno observed Harold’s condition.

He had sustained lacerations in various places, and parts of his crimson uniform had darkened where blood was seeping through. These were by no means light injuries. Despite that, he clearly had no intention of using the recovery items on himself.

It was a silent assertion that he could still fight. A tacit kindness that prioritized his comrades.

"I believe I told you: dying without my permission is forbidden. I don't recall granting it."

What a harsh boss he is, Yuno thought. There were likely few people in the world who could perform at a level that would satisfy Harold. After all, he was the incarnation of a Spartan—strict with others, but even stricter with himself.

Despite the dire circumstances, a wry smile escaped Yuno’s lips.

"Wake up those eyesores exposing their pathetic states and have them fall back immediately. If they keep rolling around underfoot, I’ll crush them."

"I would love to say 'at once'... but I'm afraid retreat is extremely difficult."

The enemy general led at least thirty soldiers. Trying to break through that encirclement while carrying multiple wounded people was simply not realistic.

Yuno’s judgment was sound.

However, that logic failed to account for the anomaly that was Harold.

"I don’t expect that much effort from you lot. I’ll sweep away those eyesore mob soldiers myself."

Harold declared it nonchalantly.

He intended to take on over thirty enemy soldiers alone. Not just Yuno, but everyone present doubted their own ears.

"Don’t get cocky, brat! If you think you can do it, then try!"

The man became enraged at what sounded like nothing but a grand tall tale. Although Harold’s face was masked, his voice and physique made it clear he was still just a boy.

The general refused to believe the subordinates he led could lose to a single child. It was a logical conclusion, a natural oversight, and a fitting bit of conceit.

But at the same time, it was a fatal display of arrogance.

"Yeah. I'll do just that."

With those final words, Harold vanished from Yuno’s sight. Immediately after, a series of dull metallic impacts echoed through the forest.

When Yuno turned toward the sound, several soldiers were already on the ground.

Harold was no longer there; instead, metallic crashes and short screams erupted from another direction.

Within just these past few months, he had become even faster.

The thick trees and poor visibility made it worse, but even accounting for that, Yuno’s eyes could not keep up with him. The soldiers who had surrounded them were collapsing one by one in the blink of an eye.

Watching the scene in awe, Yuno suddenly snapped back to reality.

Harold was putting his life on the line to buy them time. She had to fulfill her own duty.

Yuno desperately began treating her comrades—some were bleeding from sword wounds, others had skin blistered by fire. The two operatives who couldn't use magic assisted her, administering Ether and performing emergency first aid, trying to get the unit back on its feet.

The battle, which should have been overwhelmingly one-sided, was being turned on its head. The frustrated enemy general began to roar.

"What are you doing, struggling against a single brat?! Kill him already!"

"H-He's too fast! We can't catch—Ghah!"

One of the soldiers was cut off mid-sentence. The armor around his ribs was shattered to pieces, and he fell to the ground, twitching in unconscious convulsions.

It seemed that with enough training, one could destroy armor that magnificently even with a sword. He hadn't been cut, but the internal damage must have been catastrophic.

In an instant, the remaining enemy soldiers dropped to fewer than ten. The hopeless situation had been reversed in less than a minute.

To his allies, he was a hero banishing the darkness. To his enemies, he was surely a reaper or a demon.

As the tide of battle turned completely, the enemy general finally lost his patience and moved.

"I’ll turn you to ash! 'Flame Burst'!"

A gale of raging fire erupted. In its direct path were Harold and the general’s own soldiers.

Yuno thought she heard someone gasp in shock.

Whether they did or not was irrelevant. Every soldier caught in the path of the flames was swallowed by the inferno. It was unlikely any survived.

The enemy general had attacked Harold by sacrificing his own men.

"...You. What do you think you're doing?"

Harold, having evaded the surprise attack, landed some distance away and questioned the man.

Hearing his voice made a chill run down Yuno’s spine. It was as if her very marrow had turned to ice.

His tone was low, heavy, and eerily calm—devoid of all passion. To Yuno, it sounded like the terrifying stillness before a storm.

"Incompetent pawns are nothing but a bad move, no matter how you play them. I simply tried to bury them along with you. Is there a problem with killing those who couldn't even serve as decoys?"

"No. It’s rational. The decision to discard the incompetent is quite correct. Nothing is more difficult to handle than a slow-witted fool."

Harold praised the man’s inhumane methods. The general himself was the most surprised by this response.

However, contrary to his words, Harold’s eyes were looking down on the opponent who stood more than a head taller than him.

"I won't denounce you for it. For a vessel of your caliber, that is likely your limit. Curse your own incompetence."

Harold, who risked his life to save his dying comrades.

The general, who murdered his own men to kill a single enemy.

As leaders, the difference between them was absolute.

Harold’s sheer arrogance—treating the general as a complete inferior—finally pushed the man past his breaking point.

"It seems you're begging for death! In the name of Ritzelt, 'Mage' and Major General of the Imperial Army, I shall torture you to death as you wish!"

"Hah. A 'Mage' with a frame like that? It doesn't suit you. Is that pointless muscle just for decoration? You’d look more the part swinging a greatsword. Though I doubt you have the brains for any style of fighting."

Ritzelt’s fury was like a light breeze to Harold. He continued to shower the man with biting, caustic insults without a hint of fear.

The tension became a physical weight. After a heavy silence, the air finally ruptured as hostilities resumed.

Ritzelt had identified himself as a Major General. He was undoubtedly a powerful man befitting his rank, particularly in the art of magic.

Could Harold, already covered in wounds, actually win? Anxiety flickered in Yuno’s heart.

Had she known the conclusion this battle would bring, Yuno would have stopped Harold regardless of the cost.

But that was a wish that could not be granted.

Yuno could now do nothing but watch as the cruel chain of fate began to close around him.