What Do You Wish For With Murky Eyes: Record of Highserk War - Chapter 39

The Four Nations Alliance was losing much. Countless troops, prominent generals, and the resources that supported them. Hugo, the Foreign Minister burdened with Liberitoa’s diplomacy, gazed up at the burning camp with annoyance. The irritating blue flames spread, revealing the Highserk soldiers lurking in the darkness.

The burn on his head from an old injury ached. Hugo forced a smile. Liberitoa also suffered, but Craist took the brunt of the damage. Though unconfirmed, the losses among the knight order members were significant. Two of the Three Heroes were defeated, and one was captured.

“They are truly incompetent. To be burned to death by ghosts.”

Hugo, originally a civilian, had no need to be on the front lines. However, being on the front lines allowed him to see scenes that would otherwise remain unseen. Inside the tent, people moved about like a storm, and chairs and desks were scattered, resembling a house ransacked by burglars.

“Hugo-sama, we propose moving to the rear with the headquarters. The Four Nations Alliance is being sandwiched and collapsing. We won’t last long here. One of our battalions, which was attached to the front, has been annihilated.”

“It’s regrettable, but it can’t be helped.”

Precious assets, the people, were scattered without fulfilling their function. Hugo found this situation unforgivable. At the same time, the vulnerability of the Four Nations Alliance and the cunning of the Highserk Empire were beyond words. Even one of Hugo’s limited resources, his general, was burned to death by a surprise attack during a military council. This was done by a soldier using «Ignis Fatuus». Hugo learned that this soldier was a survivor of the devastated Liguria Battalion, who had hidden within the territory for over a week, even buried under corpses. Hugo admired the dedication displayed, even in death.

Hugo regretted the absence of symbols of martial prowess in Liberitoa, such as the Highserk’s Jáfe Cavalry or Craist’s Three Heroes, and the Rehauzen Knight Order. Nevertheless, Hugo acknowledged that Liberitoa’s soldiers were not weak. Their well-equipped and well-trained forces spoke for themselves. While leading soldiers from other countries, they were attempting to retreat from the fortress group.

“The Emrid platoon has successfully secured the retreat route.”

“In this situation, that’s excellent maneuvering.”

Hugo genuinely praised without flattery or sarcasm. Even without outstanding heroes, the soldiers were working desperately to compensate. Liberitoa was not a lost cause.

“They are units trained on the border with the Highserk Empire. They possess flexibility and tenacity.”

“We must ensure that their efforts do not go to waste.”

Surrounded by guards, Hugo left the fortress behind.

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Heavy eyelids opened, and Walm looked around. The room was nothing like his last memories, with no organs or charred limbs scattered around.

“Awake, huh?”

A soldier seated deeply in a chair called out to Walm.

“Sarajevo Fortress, or, where is this?”

“The battle? A day has passed since then. It’s a great victory for the Highserk Empire. Two battalions suffered further losses, but the enemy lost far more soldiers and resources. They’re now cautiously holding their positions, and both sides seem to have returned to square one.”

Including the defensive battle at the fortress, the enemy’s casualties exceeded 20,000. Although there were still around 30,000 soldiers, it was a diverse gathering, and with the fortress walls untouched, no one seemed eager to draw the short straw.

Besides the Anti Ferrius Army, in which Walm is originally part of, there were also troops left in Myard and the homeland. Even if they broke through the fortress, Walm couldn’t imagine that the Four Nations Alliance still had the strength to resist.

“Victory,” Walm uttered the sweet words.

“Oh, still can’t let our guard down. I’ll report that you’ve awakened. You had the most distinguished service in this battle. Can’t let you die, you know. Rest in the room, water and food are on the shelf. Help yourself.”

With those words, the soldier left the room. Left alone, Walm sat up from the bed. His body felt normal. If there was a problem, it was only with his eyes. He walked to the one window in the room and looked outside. Many soldiers were engaged in various tasks, but the heavy, frantic air before the battle was gone. The bloody struggle from yesterday had disappeared before Walm’s eyes like a lie.

“We won, but I’m the only one left.”

Due to frequently losing consciousness, he couldn’t fully grasp the reality. Walm reached out and poured water into a glass. His body, craving hydration, absorbed the water. His mood wasn’t bright. There was also a sense of fatigue. Still, Walm could only smile bitterly at his body, which was honest about its desires. He didn’t intend to be killed. Unable to die, unable to go mad, he clung to life.

He grabbed the red fruit that had been in the basket and turned it in his hand. Easy to hold, round, with a glossy vermilion color, the sweet fruit that fits in the hand is sought after by everyone. Suddenly opening his mouth, Walm bit into the fruit. Juices overflowed from the bitten surface, permeating his mouth. The hungry tongue and stomach found it stimulating, and after the rich sweetness, a sour taste spread.