Chapter 170: Ti to Be Together
The Arde Plain had yet to hold the blue waves of early sumr. The 'Rodir' River crossing it flowed gracefully, then revealed its fierce nature in the middle reaches. The current shattered into dark blue and clawed at the rocks.
Beyond the point where the river curved, sheer cliffs stood like a folding screen. The Elga Gorge—that barrier dividing the central and southern regions—was more overwhelming in scale than any natural landscape they had encountered before.
Calix had left the encampnt and stood gazing at the banks of the Rodir River from a distance. The wind drifted cool across the surface of the water. Then, from behind, ca footsteps, hushed as though holding their breath.
He turned, and Airien was standing there. Her eyes were calm as river water, yet within them lay a deep resolve.
"Calix, do you rember the breathing technique I taught you?"
"Yes, it was the Breathing of the Leaves. I've been relying on it lately, too."
"That is, in truth…… Called the Breath of the Spirit. It is the secret art of the Silant Tribe. It helps govern the flow within, but its true power lies in resonating with nature."
Calix watched her in silence. The elven woman's eyes shimred gently. Airien continued with composure.
"The reason the Viale Alliance was able to hold back outside forces for so long was because the forests and rivers fought alongside us. It wasn't spears and shields alone that kept us standing."
Neither showed any sign of surprise.
He himself had felt the effects of the breathing technique through the rise of his Nature Attunent ability. What mattered more was how that power could be used.
"How far can it be wielded…… ? Can it produce a large enough effect to turn the tide of a battle?"
Airien slowly shook her head. The power of the spirits was sothing that could not be understood through human ans. One had to experience it to know.
"Reversing a river isn't sothing that can be done. But strengthening its force, or splitting the current and sending it outward—that is possible."
A brief but clear answer ca. Just then, Yelayen, who had been sitting beside them, stroked his long beard and quietly offered his thoughts.
"The elves and dwarves weren't relying solely on Minebris's barrier, you know. They have handled the breath of the forests and the earth since ancient tis. It is simply that, as the ages passed, that knowledge has been disappearing."
And at the end of it all, only one question remained.
"……Am I free to use it as I see fit? You said it was the tribe's secret art."
Airien steadied her breath once, then nodded. To keep it hidden as a secret art was already moot—she had already taught him the thod.
"Anything must be put to use for its aning to be found. You taught us that."
Still, Calix only accepted her intent. It was too sudden a matter to put into practical use right away.
That would certainly have been the case—if his companions hadn't been so insistent.
***
The mont Hadiya's scouts brought word of the enemy, a deep silence settled inside the provisional tent. The enemy's movents were ominous.
"……The vanguard alone descending from upriver numbers fifty thousand? You haven't mistaken the main force for the advance guard!"
At Marquis Ashapel's questioning words, Hadiya held her gaze without flinching and answered.
On the map, the lamplight cast long shadows.
"It is confird intelligence. The enemy's numbers are far greater than anticipated."
"……They intend to crush us with sheer overwhelming numbers. A frontal engagent won't be easy."
Just as Adrian said, General Verhas's aim was clear. Draw forces together ceaselessly, clash, and break the spirit of the alliance army. No matter how elite the soldiers, they could not fight massive consecutive battles without breaking.
The air inside the tent barely stirred, and the weight of each breath pressed down.
"There's no chance of winning if we hold a single front."
It was Captain Royce who broke that silence.
He pointed to the river cutting through the center of the map. Then, with his fingertip, he traced the branching paths stretching long along the mountain range.
"Given the scale of the enemy, they won't all descend along the river. They can also infiltrate behind the Elga Gorge. Leaving that path open would expose our flank completely. We must seal it off first."
Marquis Ashapel imdiately countered.
"Seal off the path? The Elga Gorge has hundreds of large and small routes. Blocking all of them—"
"That is not what I an. I'm saying we divide the forces."
The air inside the tent trembled faintly. Eyes mixed with doubt and anticipation. Calix was about to voice an objection, but the dwarf Basim stepped forward first.
"Indeed, it wouldn't be fair if every chance went to Calix alone. We dwarves will take the mountain range!"
He let out a hearty laugh, striking the tabletop with his thick palm.
"We must also think of the soldiers' morale."
Marik added in a low voice.
"Large-scale battles break people's spirit. If they fight with a clear objective at a manageable scale, it will be of great help in future battlefields as well."
His eyes held resolve—composed, yet firm.
Adrian posed a question, and a short answer ca in return.
"You an to divide forces and construct a defensive line suited to the terrain."
"That is correct."
It was as though they had rehearsed their words in advance. And it was Airien who placed the final mark.
"There won't be a need to win from every direction. Those wretched things will try to cross the gorge, ford the river, and co after us. If we hold and push them back, then retreat at the right mont……"
"That would be when the big-eared ones step forward."
"……Yes, we elves will stir the river."
Mage Yelayen showed a satisfied smile, while the others within the alliance forces—all except the Mountain Rabbits—wore expressions of open disbelief.
The dwarves collapsing the gorge again was rely a matter of ti and conditions, but controlling the river—
The eyes inside the tent lingered on Airien for a long mont. Calix's gaze also rested briefly on her face. Directly after, he turned and looked at the Mountain Rabbits one by one.
Eyes burning with yearning. Wanting to prove themselves, yet not entangled in desire.
"……Can it be done?"
The mont the words left his mouth, he realized he had asked the wrong question. Gregor answered with reproach.
"What 'can be done'? If you trust us and hand it over, we'll do it!"
His words were right.
Calix soon lowered his head and looked at the rivers and mountain ridges on the map. His gaze moved to the winding Rodir River, then the great mountain path, and then again to the wide plain.
When he raised his head again, no trace of hesitation remained.
"Very well. Let's split those enemies apart."
Amid small cheers, low and resolute commands followed.
"Captain, I need you to take responsibility for the mountain passes. I'll assign Basim and the dwarves to you—seal those paths completely. I'll attach additional knights as well."
The mont Calix's orders fell, not one person added unnecessary words. Each answered in their own way.
Royce tapped his scabbard with one hand, and Basim grinned with his teeth showing.
"Vice-captain Marik, you must stand guard at the riverbank with Zahira and Adrian. I'll assign Order personnel there as the priority as well. Build the defensive line and ensure there is no sudden collapse. You need to hold until the forces dispatched to the mountain range can retreat."
Marik gave a quiet nod, and Sier and Ella exchanged glances.
"And Hadiya, Airien. The two of you will co with . We need to survey the river before the battle begins."
Hadiya folded her arms and smiled, and Airien drew in a short breath and released it. In that mont, the lamp hanging outside the tent swayed in the wind.
A brief trembling—as though heralding the coming night and the battlefield.
Now, all that remained was to act.
***
A night in which no one could sleep.
On the sandy ground beyond the reach of firelight, Volga stood alone. His iron club carved thick arcs through the moonlight.
The movents of his ankles and wrists flowed smoothly together. Then at so mont, force erupted straight outward as though exploding. The air tore and let out a scream.
Yet all that blood from that arc were a handful of sparks.
"……Still a long way to go."
He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. In his mind, the swordsmanship of Captain Royce—witnessed during the gorge battle—rose back to life. The fla of a swordsman who had reached the threshold of an Upper-Rank Swordsman. Alongside it, he recalled the way Basim wielded his twin axes.
Both were worth attempting to imitate.
On the contrary, Calix's—at so point, he had beco impossible to follow.
"Idiot, the gap's grown too wide."
He could not simply laugh it off as a good thing.
Volga had already seen the expression on Helmut Barben's face. A power that even a Top-Rank Knight could not conceal envy toward, while at the sa ti being compelled to respect. His friend had reached that level.
"Simply following behind won't do. To stand alongside him, I'd need at least……"
The brief monologue scattered.
Volga corrected his stance again and drove his weapon through the stillness of the night. He believed that soday, that effort would be repaid.
Vice-captain Marik passed by his side and withdrew his gaze. He understood well enough what frustration Volga's feelings represented—for they were the Mountain Rabbits' feelings entire.
By now, Calix had beco soone who looked more fitting standing among knights. Once, the Mountain Rabbits had sheltered him, but now it was the opposite.
'Have they earned the right to stand alongside him?'
Marik reflexively shook his head. Thinking back, there was nothing he could point to recently and say he had been of help to Calix.
He had followed where he was led, held his post—but had not pulled his own weight. That might be acceptable for a subordinate, but as a comrade, it was a failure.
That was likely why the Mountain Rabbits had co to their silent agreent. Even amid this dreadfully dangerous battlefield, they had to prove their reason for being.
Just then, he noticed two young children quarreling. Clearly refugees by their appearance. The two were fighting over nothing more than a piece of bread.
Marik watched the scene for a mont, then walked over in silence and split it in two, handing each child a piece. The children looked displeased, but could not bring themselves to protest and bowed their heads.
'These hands could be used to save the man in black, or to threaten soone. And I chose the forr.'
His gaze fell to his own two hands.
Usually they gripped a sword hilt, but now they had broken hard bread and distributed it.
'Am I ready to prove that once again?'
Marik quietly raised his head.
In the distance, Ella, having finished her prayers among the clerics, offered a gentle greeting. Their eyes t, but no further words passed. Yet they each understood—that they had resolved, wordlessly, to stand in their own places.
The dwarves, by contrast, were uproarious from the mont they began preparing. Nuri Sarui argued that they should erect barriers. So claid checking the state of the gorge should co first, and rough debate broke out.
Basim watched them in silence, then stamped the ground and raised his voice.
"Enough! It's not dirt and stone that divides the battlefield. What matters is what we're going to do!"
The young dwarves faltered and looked at him. Nuri Sarui protested with an aggrieved expression. The Mountain Rabbits did not know it, but this was a breach of dwarven conversational etiquette.
"No, Basim. You should be taking my side."
"Why should I?"
"Am I not Nuri Sarui, nephew of Ulrick Snob!"
Those of noble lineage were accorded respect. The distinguished deeds of one's ancestors were the glory of their descendants. But that lasted only a mont before the atmosphere grew awkward.
Because there was nothing to put before the na Basim.
"……Do you perhaps have a forr na you once used?"
"And what would you do with it?"
"Ah, well……"
He spoke with no trace of a smile.
"I am an exile. Those things have already been erased."
At those words, neither Nuri Sarui nor the other dwarves raised any further objection. But from that day on, the sa question flowed again and again from within Basim.
'What kind of dwarf do I wish to be rembered as? Why have I never spoken of that until now?'
Sothing he had never once looked back on took deep root in a corner of his heart. The slopes of the night spread a heavy resonance outward.
At that sa hour, Royce sat alone before a campfire, sharpening his blade. He had honed it so cleanly that his face was reflected in the surface.
He paused his hand for a mont and looked into his own eyes as they appeared on the edge of the blade.
'Don't push yourself……'
Belgrado's low voice echoed in his mind. But a short, humorless laugh broke through at once. He muttered, as if in scorn.
"If I was going to stop here, I would never have started."
The Mountain Rabbits are everything to him. The look in Royce's eyes held the heat of the fla intact. Still firm, without a single tremor.
The night deepened in that way.
The river breeze drifted between the firelight, and the starlight broke gently across the surface of the water. Within each person's own reflection, their resolve beca one current and crossed the winding Rodir River.
‘Have they earned the right to stand together?’
This ti, it was the Mountain Rabbits' turn to prove it.
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