Rian's gaze turned toward them.
'Were they what Monclay prepared to turn the tables?'
Sion was one of the Knights of the Pentagram who guarded the Azrion Kingdom.
Unlike the other knights who formed knight orders to guard the borders, he was known to operate alone for the public order and peace of the interior.
It was said that he occasionally supported the knight orders in the borderlands as well, so it seemed the knight Sion was currently participating in the battle at the Twin Gorge.
More than that, it appeared he really had taken in disciples.
He was so free-spirited that he bore the illustrious titles of the Wandering Light and the Knight of Freedom, and rumors were rife that he did not even keep a knight order because of it.
"Hey! Black-haired guy over there. Didn't you hear me? I asked where Sir Monclay is."
The man who had shouted a moment ago rode right up to Rian and dismounted.
Whether he was Sion's disciple or whatever else, Rian did not care at all for the man's tone, which sounded like he was scolding a child.
'Hmm. Is he a poorly tamed wild dog?'
With dull blond hair, thick facial features, glaring eyes, and red pupils, his face made one suspect a hot-tempered nature.
Apart from that, armor made of iron plates layered over a chainmail base wrapped around his stocky build.
And with a blue cloak hanging down to his waist over his back, he certainly looked as though he were modeling himself after a knight order.
Seeing how an emblem symbolizing light was embroidered in gold thread upon his cloak, it also seemed to prove that he was a disciple of the knight Sion.
Step—.
An intimidating pressure could be felt even in his approaching steps.
Even so, why would Rian cower and back down?
"Platoon Leader Rian Kade of the 1st Platoon, 3rd Company. Don't you think stating your exact affiliation should come first?"
"Haaah—?"
At Rian's remark, the man scowled and placed a hand on the pommel of the sword at his hip, as if ready to draw his blade at any second.
Rian did the exact same.
As the surrounding air grew icy cold in an instant, mutual murderous intent settled between them.
Tension swelled until it felt ready to explode at the slightest touch.
No one looked inclined to step in and mediate.
The stablehand had already fled far away, leading the horse he had been about to hand over to Rian.
FLASH!
In the end, the feet of the man closing the distance moved first.
Rian took in the man's movement as he lunged in a straight line.
'He's fast.'
Drawn the instant he kicked off the ground, the man's blade was already dropping down from above Rian's head.
It was an unavoidable speed—fast enough to rival that of Gerard, who had pierced his heart before.
No, perhaps it was even faster than that.
In the past, his head would naturally have gone flying before he could even react, but not now.
Shing—.
A drawn sword was already held in Rian's hand as well, its tip aimed straight at the man's heart.
If they followed through just like that, even if Rian's head went flying, the man's heart would obviously be skewered too.
CLANG—! CLANG!!
However, that did not happen.
'Hmm?!'
Someone else's blades knocked away the steel aiming for each other's lives.
"Dominic. That is enough."
She had shown no sign of stepping in until a moment ago, yet before he knew it, she was right there.
No, more than that, where had such strength and speed come from?
Her armor was the same as that of the man called Dominic, and the cloak hanging down to her waist was the same as well.
Yet compared to her small frame, the strength with which she had deflected their attacks felt abnormal, and the cool beauty beneath her dark blue bobbed hair clearly revealed that she was a woman.
"Tch."
At her intervention, Dominic sheathed his sword without a word of complaint. From that alone, Rian could guess that the woman with the dark blue bobbed hair was the one leading them.
The woman's gaze turned toward Rian.
A silent pressure telling him to lower his sword could be felt, though he had been about to return his blade to its scabbard anyway.
Shing—.
Only then did the woman also return the swords held in both of her hands to the scabbards fastened to her sword belt.
"Please forgive Dominic's rudeness. As disciples of the knight Sir Sion, we are not bound to the military and have no formal affiliation, which led to this discourtesy."
"......"
Seeing her speak to this extent, he had no choice but to accept that they really were the little-known disciples of Sion.
"I am Leah, leading them under the orders of Sir Sion."
The woman with the dark blue bobbed hair named Leah gave Rian a brief military salute by placing her right fist over her heart and bowing her head.
When her gaze turned toward Dominic, who was standing there with a sour expression, he too gave a reluctant military salute.
"Forgive my rudeness. You showed fighting spirit, so I merely reacted to it."
"......"
He did not look like he had any real intention of asking for forgiveness. His attitude basically said that he naturally had the temperament of a wild dog, so Rian should just understand it on his own.
Instead, the others stepped in to apologize on Dominic's behalf.
"I am called Berkir. Please forgive Dominic's rudeness."
A man with a build rivaling a bear's and flowing silver hair asked for forgiveness, his hands clad in gauntlets fitted with blunt chunks of iron.
"Dominic is a wild dog we carry around with us. He's a guy who needs a lot of forgiveness. My name is Phine."
Rather than apologizing, the woman named Phine, whose long green hair cascaded down, offered a greeting that seemed to tease Dominic.
Matching her slender build, she appeared to use a thin-bladed rapier as her weapon.
At a glance she looked like one of the elf folk, yet the ears occasionally peeking through her hair seemed to prove she was human.
"Um, well... I'm Taerin. Personally, I think Dominic was in the wrong, so it'd only be right for Sir Kade to do as he pleases with him. Well, that's how I see it."
A freckled woman with a light brown bob seemed to tease Dominic with a remark even more aggressive than Phine's.
Dominic shot glares and growled at Phine and Taerin as they teased him, but that was all.
He even turned his head away to ignore them.
'Looks like they're pretty close.'
That was how it looked to Rian's eyes. Was that why? Somehow, it seemed that all of them had anticipated Dominic drawing his blade.
Since Rian himself had felt a competitive urge boiling up inside him to cross swords with them from the moment he met these disciples of Sion, would they be any different?
It was reasonable to assume they had deliberately let Dominic go ahead and test him.
Therefore, their bantering amongst themselves right in front of him under the guise of apologizing did not particularly bother him.
He simply wanted to spar with every one of them and gauge their skills.
Even so, this was hardly the time to ask for a spar.
"Since you are looking for the Battalion Commander, I was just about to head that way myself. Let us go together."
Rian returned their greetings with a military salute of his own.
Meeting rudeness with rudeness, and courtesy with courtesy as he dealt with Sion's disciples, Rian rode his horse toward the Dandelion Plains.
'Still, did Monclay really think he could stop the Imperial Army—who even hired a mage—with just the five of them?'
There was no way of knowing.
***
Flare—.
Beneath a sky where darkness had settled, torches flickering like dots from the direction of the Greenwave Forest bobbed and surged toward the Dandelion Plains.
Viewed from above, the bands of light would have formed two distinct lines.
The smaller line of light had just entered the Dandelion Plains, while the long, stretched-out line of light was crossing the middle slopes of the forest.
Both forces had fought a fierce, desperate battle, chasing, clashing, and chasing once again, but right now the steps of the Imperial Army—fleeing with the single-minded determination to survive—were a little faster.
"If you want to croak, rest right here!! Any scum who wants to live needs to cross the plains quickly and get over the border!!"
At their commander's ferocious shouting, the half-delirious soldiers forced their barely functioning legs to move quickly and pressed onward.
Of course, Williams, who had been in overall command of them, had already slipped out of the forest ahead of everyone under the pretext of requesting reinforcements.
"Bullshit!! Fucking hell!!"
"Every man looks out for his own life, fucking hell!! If you want to die, say the word! I'll kill you myself!!"
"Damn it! They said this was a winning fight, so what the hell is this?!"
"Forget the land, that's out the window! Let's just make it back alive! Damn it all!!"
The Imperial soldiers spat out subjectless curses of blame.
"......"
Gerard silently followed behind them. He could have pulled ahead, but he could not do so when it looked like the remaining soldiers would give up on retreating and surrender to the Kingdom Army if he left them behind.
Soldiers were directly tied to national power.
Even if they had lost thousands and only hundreds remained, they were soldiers of the Empire, and Gerard believed they must remain soldiers of the Empire until the day their lives came to an end.
So long as they kept moving like this, there was no need to worry about being caught.
Since the enemy was no longer closing the distance in their pursuit either, they must be just as utterly exhausted.
However, should he really return like this?
It had been an all-but-won battle.
There had been nothing stopping them from pushing back the Kingdom Army, whose combat power was vastly inferior to the soldiers they had slaughtered on the plains and whose morale had hit rock bottom.
Yet for something like this to happen.
'I cannot accept this.'
Out of guilt over the defeat, Gerard felt like cutting off his own head right then and there.
Even apart from that, there would be no escaping the fact that the cause of their defeat lay with his unit's failure to protect the mage.
No matter how much this had happened because of a traitor within the unit, the responsibility ultimately rested with him as its commander.
'Will I be sentenced to dismemberment, having my limbs torn apart until I die? An order holding me accountable and telling me to commit suicide would be far better.'
Gerard foresaw his own death. No matter how much favor he received from the Supreme Commander, was he not of lowly birth with no backing to smooth over his responsibility?
Even if he reported that the traitors were from noble families, would things go the way he intended?
'Those base nobles will band together and pin all the blame on me.'
Because of that, he must not return empty-handed like this. At the very least, he had to take the enemy commander's head and present it to balance the scales.
Having organized his thoughts, Gerard resolved to fill the hole of his blunder with the enemy commander's head.
Even if he had to die in the end, he believed that doing so would repay the grace of Marquis Bueno Arjen, who had raised him to this position.
"Neither more nor less, I am selecting twenty unit members prepared to throw away their lives and fight. I will not force anyone."
At Gerard's sudden proposal, the hundred or so remaining unit members stopped in their tracks.
"What do you intend to do?"
To the unit member's question, Gerard answered with blazing eyes.
"I must present the Azrion commander's head to the Marquis. Only then will at least your lives be spared."
Some among the unit members considered coming up with such an idea during a retreat to be nothing more than pipe-dream idealism.
Trying to kill the enemy commander right now was tantamount to jumping straight into a fire.
So after hearing Gerard's answer, a unit member cautiously voiced his opinion.
"If we raid the families of those traitorous bastards and confiscate their wealth...."
However, Gerard had already closed his ears.
"That is a separate matter from this."
"......"
Grasping Gerard's determination, the unit member asked no further. However, not everyone was prepared to follow Gerard.
"Bringing the remaining troops back safely is also our duty. As you said, handle that on your own, while the rest of us focus on the retreat. Let us go."
Because skill was authority within the Shadow Unit raised by the Marquis, when one of the top fighters in the unit spoke up, the other members could not simply ignore his words.
Above all, even if they managed to take the enemy commander's head, would they be able to make it back to their territory alive?
It might be possible for Gerard, since he was the strongest fighter in the unit, but the others judged it impossible for themselves.
In any case, the blame for this disaster would fall on a blunder caused by traitors, and all responsibility would have to be shouldered by Gerard, who held overall command of the unit.
Most of the unit members judged that the fallout would not reach them.
Rustle, rustle—!!
Therefore, the majority followed behind their retreating allies.
Including Gerard himself, only ten men in total followed him.
All of them were of commoner or orphan birth, and belonged to the upper ranks of the unit in swordsmanship skill.
"I promise you upon my honor. Even when we return to our homeland, I will see to it that at least your lives are spared."
With that vow, Gerard swiftly detoured through the Greenwave Forest to get behind the pursuing Azrion soldiers.