What Do You Wish For With Murky Eyes: Record of Highserk War - Chapter 15

Having used magic to its limits, Walm’s body was overcome with extreme fatigue. Running such a long distance had made his legs as heavy as stone. The allied forces were scattered in the chaos of the fire, and there was no one around.

“All that’s left is you… Commander.”

If he asked and got an answer, it would save him some trouble. Although he expected no response, surprisingly, there was one.

“Yes, that’s right. You mere foot soldier acting high and mighty. I am Winston Ferrius, the commander of the Ferrius Kingdom’s Myard Expeditionary Force.”

There was the possibility of a body double. After all, Walm didn’t know the face of his opponent. However, within that temperament and short tone, he felt an inherent elegance and dignity.

“Surrender.”

There was no need to kill needlessly. If he could capture the enemy commander and a royal family member as a prisoner, it would work in favor of intergovernmental negotiations.

“I have my limbs intact, my sword, and my pride. My soldiers are still fighting. There is no reason for surrender!”

Winston drew his sword forcefully from its scabbard, and approaches Walm with his stance in an upper position.

The man’s movements were better than expected. Walm had to reconsider his assumption that the royal family’s commander was just for show.

Blocking a high strike with the halberd, Walm thrusts, but Winston deflects it while circling around to Walm’s left.

Both magic and skills were already unusable. Walm hoped for support from the surrounding soldiers, but the flames and interference from the soldiers attempting to rescue Winston hindered him. He was running low on magical power, even for strengthening his body.

He focused solely on how to kill the formidable enemy in front of him. Sword and halberd crossed multiple times as they aimed for fatal wounds.

Winston’s sword injured Walm’s arm, and Walm’s halberd grazed Winston’s neck.

While blood trickles slightly from his neck, it was far from a fatal wound. In the midst of their sword lock, they repelled each other, creating space and distance.

Walm grabbed the bottom of the halberd’s handle and thrust from a distance greater than before. The unexpected strike from the increased distance caused Winston’s posture to falter.

After retracting the halberd, Walm threw it towards Winston’s head. Winston calmly knocked it away with his sword, but Walm, who had stepped forward, concealed his sword draw at his left shoulder, pulled out the longsword, and swung it down.

Winston’s movements stopped, and he collapsed to his knees. His neck was almost severed, and blood overflowed uncontrollably.

“Ugh… even if I’m defeated, Ferri… us, still hasn’t… lost.”

Winston, uttering his words with difficulty, crumpled to the ground and breathed his last beneath Walm’s gaze.

“I’ve killed the enemy commandeeerrrr!!”

Walm took a deep breath and raised his voice. The victorious cry quickly spread across the battlefield.

While the Highserk soldiers became more spirited, the Ferrius soldiers who had been staunchly resisting began to scatter down the hill.

The Highserk soldiers weren’t lenient enough to let them escape. As Walm, reaching his limit, gasped for breath, the neighing of horses reached his side. A group of cavalry appeared.

From the group clad in heavy armor, one man stepped forward towards Walm.

“You’re the one who finished off Winston?”

Anyone in the Highserk army would know his name; it was Commander Jáfe of the Jáfe Cavalry Unit.

“That’s right.”

It was a confirmation of his achievements. Jáfe, who had been peering at the corpse, nodded slowly at Walm.

“So, you’ve taken down Winston Ferrius himself. Well done. This is a major victory. What’s the name of your unit?”

Thinking the corpse would be confirmed a body double, Walm’s reaction was delayed.

“…I’m Walm from the Kozul Platoon, Duwei Squad.”

“I see, Walm. I thought I’d be the one to take Winston’s head, but you did splendidly. The Light Infantry Battalion will regroup on the hill and make the final push. You can rest until then.”

Fatigue had already reached its limit. If the opponent wasn’t a general, Walm would have sprawled on the ground, limbs splayed out.

“Also, for your military achievements, you’ll receive a reward from Commander Berger. So don’t die until then.”

Having finished speaking, Commander Jáfe mounted his horse, led the battalion, and descended from the hill.

The enemy soldiers who couldn’t escape were engulfed by the mass of the battalion, and their bodies lay exposed on the ground.

From the top of the hill, every movement was visible. Like a single creature, they ran through the battlefield, continuously attacking the rear and flanks of the enemy unit that had been facing off against the Highserk infantry battalion in the plain.

Walm swallowed hard, likening it to a wolf attacking a flock of sheep. The impact was fearsome, but just the presence of cavalry passing through required the enemy to respond. Formations rapidly crumbled, and units caught in pincer attacks were annihilated.

This chain reaction spread throughout the battlefield. To Walm’s eyes, the defeat of the Ferrius and Myard Allied Forces was evident.

“Walm, are you okay?”

Jose, dirtied with dust and splattered blood, expressed concern for Walm.

“Somehow, I guess. I feel terribly exhausted.”

“Being exhausted means you’re still alive.”

“Are the others okay?”

“Everyone’s alive. Barito and Noor look like they’re about to drop dead any moment though. As for Squad Leader Duwei, no need to say.”

No one believed that Squad Leader Duwei had fallen in battle. Even if he were impaled from head to toe, Walm was convinced he would come charging at them.

As Walm tried to sit down due to fatigue, a voice stopped him. The familiarly deep and coarse voice belonged to Squad Leader Duwei.

“Don’t go to sleep. You’ll be unable to stand up right away. Drink water slowly. In five minutes, the follow up assault begins. When it’s over, we’ll be relieved of duty.”

Yes, the battle continued. Walm took a sip of water from the canteen hanging from his waist. The thirst in his throat instantly eased, and absorbed into his stomach.

Walm turned his gaze to the side. The remains of Winston Ferrius, whom he had slain, were wrapped in the remnants of the enemy’s tent and guarded.

Although Walm somehow survived the toughest part, there were still challenges ahead. On the hill several kilometers away, where Myard had set up its position, intense fighting continued.

—————

“Ferrius forces are in complete disarray!! Three battalions have already been annihilated. The remaining battalion is also in retreat.”

“We’ve received reports of the death of Winston Ferrius…”

“Alliando and Gary units have collapsed, and, oh, the hill is completely surrounded.”

The news of the death of Winston Ferrius, the overall commander of the Ferrius side, was enough to plunge the Myard forces into the depths of despair.

The remaining Youth Myard made desperate efforts to regroup, but what ruined it all was the Jáfe Cavalry Battalion, pride of the Highserk. They relentlessly struck the rear and flanks of the units that were in a standoff with the Highserk infantry battalion, exploiting the moment when their formation collapsed, and finished them off with a coordinated force of infantry.

Youth attempted organized retreats using messengers and magical devices, but it turned out that individually and among the non-commissioned officers, the fleeing Ferrius soldiers suffered fewer casualties than the Myard forces.

Already, over 6,000 Ferrius soldiers had perished, and the Myard forces had lost more than 5,000. The only ones left were 3,000 infantry who barely escaped to the hill, along with the infantry unit on the left flank that had initially collapsed. Looking back, Youth believed that they had been intentionally trapped on the hill.

When Youth thought about what he had endured for five years, kowtowing to the neighboring country, he felt like all the strength in his body was draining away, but he endured it, thinking about the people of the territory and his only remaining daughter.

To prevent the complete collapse of the country from the Highserk, Youth implemented a scorched earth strategy in the former Kanoa. Important facilities were razed, and all portable food was transported to Myard. The remaining grains were all set ablaze.

Although he had tried to accept as many former Kanoa citizens as possible, Youth learned from city spies that those who remained in the areas annexed by the Highserk hated them like demons. Despite being resented and hated, Youth had accepted Ferrius’ proposal with mixed feelings, all for the sake of his homeland. But now, he wasn’t sure if it was the right choice.

“The Adoa unit that tried to break through the encirclement has been repelled.”

Even the last hope, a plan to break through the encirclement, had failed. Youth’s options were already limited.

He conveyed through magical devices installed in the city that defeat was inevitable. Those who could escape had probably started fleeing to neighboring countries.

“There’s nowhere to run. At this rate…”

“The exhausted commander mumbled, his head hanging. Normally, there would be a reprimand for giving up, but the situation was already completely decided.

“…It’s over.”

The encirclement continued to tighten, and fierce attacks came from all directions. Unable to afford any more futile deaths among his troops, Youth made a decision.

“Surrender—”

His words were drowned out by angry shouts. The invaders in the main camp were Highserk soldiers, but their banner indicated they were from the city of Sarria.

“Sarria City’s troops!!”

Former compatriots, with bloodshot eyes, spotted Youth and shouted,

“There he is! The traitor Myard!”

“Kill him! He’s the one who burned down our farms with our families!”

“Death to the betrayer!”

He was aware that he was hated. After the scorched-earth tactics, some soldiers went rogue, engaging in looting and violence, which Youth heard about. Those who deviated from orders were duly punished.

It was only natural. Youth could fully imagine that the hatred from the residents of Sarria, who had suffered significant losses due to the scorched-earth tactics, had not diminished but intensified over the five years.

Despite the efforts of his immediate subordinates, there wasn’t enough strength to stop the madness of the Sarria soldiers. Youth kept his sword sheathed, waiting for the approaching former citizens.

“Lord Myard!”

Youth didn’t know what the right choice was, but he was certain that he was following the same path as Winston.

“I’m sorry.”

Without time to think about whom or what he was apologizing to, countless blades pierced Youth.

The last thing that came to his mind was his daughter left in the city. The fact that the one who had discarded so many people as necessary sacrifices thought of his family in the end was a selfish realization fading away in Youth’s consciousness.

Youth Myard, impaled by thirteen spears and swords, was lifted and displayed on the hill.

With the complete loss of the command structure of the Ferrius-Myard army, the final sunset of Myard became definitive.