What Do You Wish For With Murky Eyes: Record of Highserk War - Chapter 33

Walm felt discomfort in his mouth. Subsequently, his brain was intensely pounding as if it had been hit by a war hammer. His limbs couldn’t move freely, and his chest, exhaling breath, ached.

“Ahh… fuuuhhh”

Breathlessness and a sense of oppression enveloped Walm’s entire body. The strong smell of dense soil and decay reached his nose. When he tried to move his body, after a slight resistance, the darkness lifted.

Walm exhaled air from his lungs as if he had been eagerly waiting for it. Soil clumps and moisture were included in the breath. It took Walm some time to realize that he had been underground. Despite emerging from the ground, half of his field of view remained shrouded in darkness.

The remaining half reflected the night sky. The familiar smell of the battlefield, stronger than usual, lingered intensely. Moving only his right eye to survey the surroundings, Walm found a chaotic scene of discarded soldiers. He felt a dull pain as if his head were being squeezed with a vice, and a stabbing pain as if an ice pick were piercing his eyeball. Checking his eyes in the reflection of the pulled-out longsword blade, there were no prominent external injuries, but his black eyes had clouded and changed color.

The clouded eyes reflected nothing. Walm realized that the light had gone out from his left eye. Ah, burned by magic, Walm oddly found himself understanding. He had received a force of magic so dense and excessive that it was enough to bury him. Even one of his eyes became strange.

Walm checked the condition of his body. There might be fractures on his skull. Strangely, the lacerations had already coagulated, and regeneration had even begun. His left hand had all fingers pointing in random directions. Unbearable pain surged with every breath. There was no decent place left. After a moment of work, Walm looked up at the sky again. It was a full moon. The shape of the moon, supposed to be crescent, had changed.

“Hey, how many days have passed since then?”

Walm voiced his question. Around him, there was nothing but death. Several large holes, created by concentrated magical operations, had corpses thrown into them indiscriminately.

The corpses that couldn’t be fully buried and were exposed from the ground have begun to decompose. Rats and maggots covered the surface of the bodies, devouring them voraciously.

All of them belong to the Highserk Empire’s army. Walm speculated that the enemy army’s corpses were hastily buried. The smell of holy water was mixed in.

The massive amount of soil and sand thrown up by the explosion had hidden Walm underground, protecting him from pests and enemy soldiers.

“Ah, Reinus, Tibard, Danfan…”

Walm uttered several names. They were the three veterans of the Duwei Squad. While they weren’t particularly close, they had still navigated the front lines together for almost a year.

Far from being comrades, they were individuals loyal to desires rather than camaraderie, but there were times when their loyalty had ultimately saved lives.

In Walm’s mind, a bright red alert was screaming. Stop. Don’t search any further— Bright red hair, a crushed bow, Squad Leader Duwei’s broken axe.

“Uu- ghhh…”

A tightness gripped Walm’s empty stomach, and stomach acid surged up. The taste was terrible.

Unconsciously, he clasped his hands. What to do now? Walm, feeling drained, spent several minutes in thought without reaching a conclusion.

The moonlit flags were all from the Four Nations Alliance forces. Most of the bastions had fallen, and the one Walm had defended had become a massive graveyard.

If this were the frontline, it shouldn’t be this quiet. Walm growled, convinced that it must be a safe zone now that the Four Nations Alliance forces had completely eliminated resistance.

It became clear that the enemy’s main forces were stationed in the bastions where the Highserk Empire’s army had deployed.

How far had they fallen? Everything, or were only the walls left? What should he do? Continue pretending to be a corpse, wait for an opportunity, and escape? Or surrender?

As Walm lowered his gaze, he saw the vacant eye sockets of his comrades, stabbed repeatedly. There were also other corpses with their facial features destroyed. It wasn’t just one. Walm had heard from his brother that those who lost both eyes in life wouldn’t reach the underworld and would wander in the twilight darkness for the rest of their existence. Whether the eyes were gouged out before or after death was unclear. The bodies were bound with their hands behind them, indicating that they had been restrained before being killed. Was it the result of some soldiers running amok, or was it an organized action?

Soldiers often experienced emotional outbursts. Walm, who had dealt with prisoners of war, knew from experience that prisoners were entities that required meals, surveillance, a place, and both time and money.

The Highserk Empire’s army officially refrained from brutalizing prisoners to manage the emotions in occupied territories and ensure a labor force. However, Walm had witnessed prisoners being killed due to shortages of supplies for captives and soldiers taking out their frustrations. In the third bastion countless casualties occurred among the Four Nations Alliance forces. Walm could imagine that the lack of a unified command structure led to inconsistent treatment of prisoners, ultimately resulting in their mass execution. Yet Walm couldn’t understand the necessity of crushing the eyes of the corpses.

“It’s war. Not a pretty story, but…”

Was there a need to despise and violate the enemy to that extent? The words “rational war” flashed in Walm’s mind, and he bared his teeth, bursting into laughter.

“Haha, ugh, hiiii, iiiii!”

Despite all the killing and being killed, Walm scorned himself for continuing to believe in decency and rational thought.

In reality, he didn’t know how many days had passed. Nevertheless, images of squad members who had been joking with him just a few hours ago lingered in Walm’s mind.

“Ah, that’s right. Death can come at any moment. It was the same before, wasn’t it? Besides, it’s war. This is war. It’s kill or be killed.”

Trying to put the situation into words, Walm’s emotions interfered.

At such a time, Walm sensed light approaching in the dimness.

“Hey, something’s standing there.”

“Another undead? Highserk soldiers are a pain even when dead.”

“The ones around here had their eyes and limbs crushed. They can’t move properly. Let’s just crush its head already.”

Casual conversation among nonchalant Ferrius soldiers reached Walm’s ears. The thought of surrendering and pleading for mercy crossed Walm’s mind, but he saw the lifeless body of a fallen comrade, bound and with crushed limbs, and hesitated.

“Surrender? Ƒucƙ that, no ᶂucƙing way. They’re the type to come in here and torture us.”

Even if he pleaded, getting killed quickly would be the best he could hope for.

“Take a chance at hiding under maggots and corpses, to escape? Well, not a bad idea.”

If he ignored the fact that he was surrounded by tens of thousands of soldiers in enemy territory, it wasn’t a bad plan.

Duty, responsibility, revenge.

A tribute to the squad, loyalty to the homeland, hatred towards the enemy.

‘What do you wish for with those clouded eyes?’

“…?”

“Hey, isn’t it muttering something?”

“Just groaning.”

“Dirty as it is, his eyes aren’t crushed. Maybe we missed dealing with him.”

“If we surround and beat him, it’ll be the same.”

Words circulate in his head. Suddenly, an idea strikes Walm. «Ignis Fatuus», also known as ‘Ceremonial Bonfire to the Underworld’, is often associated with grand send-offs. If he were to create an elaborate ceremonial fire, his fallen comrades might not lose their way.

Walm declares to his comrades, their eye sockets empty and exposed.

“Even if you can’t see, you should be able to sense my «Ignis Fatuus». I’ll make a bonfire, a grand one.”

While Walm utters words dedicated to his fallen comrades, the Ferrius soldiers finally realize that Walm is alive.

“He’s not undead. He’s alive.”

“The battle was five days ago. A coward who survived covered in corpses.”

“Five days in a place like this…?”

Something hits Walm’s motionless feet. He lifts it up and mutters happily.

“You’re so considerate. Come along, we’re going to light a grand bonfire.”

The mask nods with a clattering sound. Walm slowly puts on the mask, exhaling white breath. Whether it’s the stimulus from his breath or the anticipation of the impending bonfire, the mask trembles as if reaching its climax.