The moon hung high in the night sky, drenching the earth in its brilliant light as the group galloped at full tilt, eyes fixed forward. Every man was on horseback, riding as if his life depended on it—riding, riding, and riding.
Normally, the horses would have grown weary and slowed their pace after such a frantic dash, but they continued to push on now as if they were incapable of feeling fatigue. Even the beasts understood. The place they had occupied until moments ago was overflowing with death; they needed to get as far away from it as possible, as quickly as they could. Driven by the terror looming at their heels, they pressed forward even though their bodies surely demanded rest.
Blatta rode near the front, and the captain of the cavalry unit flanking him shouted over the wind.
"Lord Blatta! We have to rest soon or the horses will collapse! Fortunately, I believe there’s a small stream not far from here. Let’s head there for now!"
Blatta gave a silent nod and followed as the captain veered off the highway to lead the way. The members of the cavalry unit felt a prickle of unease at the silence of the usually boisterous Blatta, but they kept their focus on the destination. Sensing the tension in their riders beginning to thaw, the horses gradually slowed their pace.
After about twenty minutes, the sound of flowing water reached their ears. What they found was a river—or rather, a brook—scarcely two meters wide and barely reaching an adult's knees. Despite its size, for the men and horses who had spent every ounce of their energy in that flight, it was a sanctuary.
"Phew... We'll take a short break here. The horses have been at a full sprint this whole time; the fatigue must be massive. It would have been better if we had spare mounts, but it’s a miracle we survived at all. I shouldn't complain."
The other cavalrymen nodded in agreement. Every man present besides Blatta belonged to the cavalry unit directly under Schuls. Originally, the subjugation army had been composed almost entirely of the First Prince Faction, with the cavalry in front of Blatta serving as a minor exception. Now, that dynamic had been completely overturned; Blatta was the one in the minority.
He paid the shift in power no mind. He dismounted and led his horse to the water. The beast whinnied softly and dipped its muzzle into the stream, drinking thirstily. Blatta gently stroked its neck.
"Sorry for the rough ride. But I’m afraid I’ll have to ask for more later, so hang in there a little longer."
As if in response, the horse raised its head and snorted.
"Lord Blatta, take this. You’ve been moving since that midnight battle; try to recover some strength."
The captain of the cavalry unit handed him some dried fruit. They had been thoroughly cured in the sun, and a cloying sweetness flooded Blatta's mouth as he chewed. He wasn't particularly fond of sweets, and he grimaced slightly before scooping up some river water to wash the taste away.
Only then did he realize how parched his throat truly was. He scooped water to his lips again and again. He had remained inside the encampment until the very last moment while the firestorm ran rampant. The radiant heat from the cyclone had sent the temperature soaring; despite the autumn night, it had felt like standing under the blistering midsummer sun—perhaps even worse.
The shift from the cool night air to that inferno had been jarring. He had survived a situation where luck, not skill, decided who lived and who died. Combined with the grueling ride that followed, his body was more depleted than he had realized.
He drank until his stomach felt full and finally took a breath. Looking up, he saw the massive moon and an endless sea of stars. He stared at the constellations... and eventually remembered how Sobul used to gaze at the night sky, despite his otherwise pragmatically calm personality.
A sudden surge of hatred welled up from his gut. Sobul was his friend, his partner, the one man who truly understood him—sometimes even acting like a protective guardian. And that man had been shot down. The enemy had come to annihilate them; though Sobul had likely survived the initial fall from his horse, his ultimate fate wasn't hard to guess.
"Damn it... damn it... DAMN IT!"
Blatta slammed his fist into the ground, venting the emotions boiling inside him. The force was tremendous, leaving a crater several centimeters deep in the earth. Yet for all his strength, he hadn't been able to protect his one true friend.
In that moment, Blatta felt he finally understood Rhodos's feelings. He knew the hatred he felt was different in nature from the youth's, but as far as raw, negative emotion went, they were the same. He lay back in the grass, breathing in the scent of the earth and staring at the stars, whispering the name of the friend he didn't know was dead or alive.
"Sobul..."
"I understand your frustration, but returning to the Imperial Capital has to be our priority."
The captain of the cavalry unit was the one to speak up. The other riders were too intimidated by the murderous intent radiating from Blatta to even approach. Even the captain, though composed on the surface, had sweat seeping into his palms. The gap between Blatta—one of the top combatants in His Highness Cabajid's service—and a man merely in charge of a single direct squad of Schuls's cavalry was vast.
Nevertheless, his loyalty to Schuls drove him to get Blatta back to the capital. He knew that if they returned alone, Cabajid would manipulate the information. He would likely claim they had conspired with the rebel army to let them into the camp, and they would have no evidence to prove otherwise. Without such a narrative, it would be impossible for anyone to believe that a force of six thousand—including the combatants and the supply unit—had been utterly decimated.
It likely wasn't total annihilation, the captain thought. There must be others who survived besides us, and some might have been taken prisoner. But regardless... this man is essential to our testimony.
The captain had braced himself for a struggle, but Blatta's response was unexpected.
"I know... I know. He entrusted this to me. I have the duty... no, I have the right to tell His Highness Cabajid that Crimson has joined the rebels."
A sickening, grinding sound filled the air as Blatta clenched his teeth. The captain, seeing him look like a volcano on the verge of eruption, instinctively took a few steps back.
"At any rate, we'll let the horses rest. We'll depart in an hour. After that, we won't run them to the breaking point; we'll move with more leeway."
"Fine. I understand."
They had fled for hours to shake off the rebel army's pursuit, but also to outrun the symbol of despair that was the firestorm and the man, Crimson, who had birthed it. They had pushed the horses to the brink, and the only reason they hadn't collapsed was the exceptional quality of the mounts directly under Schuls's command.
The captain would have preferred to let them rest until morning, but the disaster of the subjugation army's destruction was too urgent. He needed to report to his lord as soon as possible.
"Then please, Lord Blatta, get some rest. We'll handle the watch."
Blatta didn't bother to answer as the captain walked away; he merely gave a dismissive glance. He knew it was better to follow the other man's lead for now. His heart screamed for him to rush to the Imperial Capital immediately, but he knew it was impossible. He had no choice but to rest until the hour was up.
"Alright, is everyone ready?"
Paelnix gave a silent nod to Rei's question. Their preparations for withdrawal were complete. Sobul had been taken prisoner, bound securely to prevent any clever tricks, and placed inside a carriage Rei had commandeered from the subjugation army. A member of the mobile unit sat upon the coach box, while several others were stationed inside the vehicle to keep watch over the captive.
The carriage was pulled by horses taken from the mobile unit's own riders. Everyone agreed that while Sobul's physical threat was minimal, his intellect was dangerous; they couldn't afford to give him any openings. The rest of the mobile unit were mounted on their horses. Horsemanship was a requirement for the unit, given the priority on mobility, and as elites, they were all skilled riders.
Rei, of course, was mounted on the Gryphon Seto.
"We're heading back to base. Stay alert and try not to be spotted. I'd prefer to wait until daybreak, but there’s no telling if local nobles, knight orders, adventurers, or mercenary bands saw that fire—or rather, the flame tornado. They might send scouting units to investigate. Most won't move in the middle of the night, but they'll definitely be out in force by morning."
The soldiers nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. It was because they grasped the risks that they were ready to move just a few hours after the battle's end without a single word of complaint.
Then again, no one in the mobile unit—Paelnix included—was likely to complain to Rei. He had demonstrated such terrifying strength that day. More than anything, the sight of the firestorm had left a permanent mark on their minds. To see such a symbol of death and still have something to say against the man who summoned it would require a special kind of fool.
While the mobile unit had participated in the battle, their role had been sniping fleeing enemies at the protective fence entrances with bows and arrows. They were tired, certainly, but they hadn't engaged in the grueling exhaustion of close-quarters swordplay. Because of that, they were able to mobilize quickly.
"It should be safe enough at this hour, but I'll scout from above to make sure we don't run into any other factions, just like we did on the way here."
The members of the mobile unit let out collective sighs of relief. The night was still thick with shadows, and while the moon helped, their visibility was severely limited. Having Rei and Seto use their night vision to watch from the sky made the night march far less daunting.
While Rei and Seto couldn't see every single thing, even if monsters like Goblins tried to approach under the cover of darkness, they wouldn't be able to catch up to the horses and carriages. By the time they were spotted and could mount an attack, the unit would already be long gone.
The mobile unit had suffered zero casualties, while the subjugation army of six thousand had been left in ruin. Carrying the weight of this unparalleled major victory, Rei and the others began their return to the rebel army's position.