We all watch in silence.
With expectant gazes and a solemn face, we stand before an open field where nurous gravestones and epithets lie.
This is a sacred place... a precious mont.
It is ti for the morial.
’All the fallen Freedom Fighters are honored in these periodic morial services. This is my first ti, but...’ I cast my gaze on Kalakuta and watch his silence.
He stands in front of everyone, before an altar which he intends to light up with flas.
Then, the incense will rise to the sky and fill the expanse. Like the fresh mountain breeze or the winds on a stormy night, the hope is for the pleasant aroma to waft through everything and appease the deceased.
"So many people have perished since our last morial..." Kalakuta begins the eulogy, and we all listen to him with stern faces.
Our respect is displayed at this mont.
We reflect on his words.
’Pretty much every nad character I found among the Freedom Fighters is dead except for Kalakuta...’
Garett and Kamal died in the Eastern Sects.
As for Jeophrey...
... He finally experienced a special accident in his workshop and perished as a result.
Although the Freedom Fighters have increased in scope, and our productivity is through the roof, it is impossible to forget the efforts and sacrifices of all the predecessors.
"I would like to remind all of us what they died for—Freedom. They all believed in that ideal and gave up their lives for it. That is why we must continue to do the sa. The journey is long and fraught with challenges, but we cannot give up or give in. It would be an insult to their resolve. Until we fulfill their dreams, which have now beco our dreams, we cannot stop moving forward!"
The more Kalakuta speaks, the more I believe those words are partly being said to himself.
I can see it in his eyes.
They grow weary by the day.
The deaths of his comrades continue to wear him down as the days pass—especially the nad ones.
They were the last of his earliest mbers and now they are all dead.
Most of the current Freedom Fighters belong to the newer generation, and even the older mbers have not spent more than five years with Kalakuta, who began this fight over a decade ago.
’But, Kalakuta...’ I sigh deeply, staring at him with a knowing gaze. ’If I have noticed these changes for this long, others should have also begun to as well.’
Although everyone shows Kalakuta reverence, and they display respect for their predecessors, they cannot truly understand how heavy their leader’s heart is.
The anguish he feels can only be felt by him.
’They were his closest friends. His first brothers. They made the movent possible. I understand how he feels. He must feel broken by their deaths... and he must also feel responsible.’ I sigh.
Yes, the Freedom Fighters are not afraid of death. They have already resolved to die for their cause and give their lives for Kalakuta if he asks that of them.
But there is a problem with this.
Kalakuta himself doesn’t bear the sa risk.
He is a juggernaught—nearly invincible in battle as a result of his special existence.
When he charges into war, no one fears that he will fall to spears or blades.
He always conquers the enemy.
He never fails.
’By consistently doing this and watching your own allies fall, the overwhelming emotion of grief and loss can.lead to survivor’s guilt. I am sure Kalakura doesn’t wish to die, at least not until he has fulfilled his goals, but living has beco a lot more difficult for him.’
All of these are rely my thoughts, ideas I keep to myself.
Sharing these thoughts with anyone would prove destructive, and telling Kalakuta about them will not be for the best.
I can only watch.
For now.
"As you all know, the latest death, Jeophrey, ca unexpectedly. He was... the last of the founding mbers of the Freedom Fighters. Many of you here know him to be eccentric, but he was also one of the most passionate mbers...."
Jeophrey the Fabricant... I learned quite a few things from him.
Although he didn’t like it at first, he began to tolerate my visits to his workshop. I watched as he forged and repaired Armants.
Thanks to his simplistic approach, I learned the practical aspects far easier than in my previous tries.
I believe I can forge an Armant now.
But that is besides the point.
Now that Joephrey is gone, Kalakuta is now alone in terms of those with close relationships to him.
Only I remain as his close friend.
********
The morial Service eventually ends, and I accompany so of the mbers to clean up the venue.
We’ll be returning to No Man’s Land soon.
Yes, the morial Service doesn’t take place in the wilderness. The site is actually close to the northern mountains.
It’s why the service isn’t done so frequently.
The idea is for the mbers to be buried and honored where the Freedom Fighters first established themselves as such. The open fields represent freedom and prosperity, a way to honor the dead and also give good fortune to the living.
I already learned of these things from Kalaluta, so their aning remains with .
After clearing things up, everyone has so ti to walk around the fields, discuss among one another, eat, or spend their final monts here however they like.
I use my monts to observe all the Freedom Fighters and eavesdrop on their conversations.
That’s when I hear it—
—Disrespect.
"Did you see how Kalakuta was shaking on stage? Why was he acting like a baby?"
"So you noticed it too?"
"I did! When did he beco so soft?"
"Maybe it’s because his old friends died. But isn’t that what we all signed up for?"
"Isn’t it weird how he only got sad when it was the original mbers that died? I thought we were all equal in his eyes. Such a pretentious bastard."
"Yeah. He acts like we are all brothers, but he definitely has favorites."
"I see how he acts these days. He didn’t even respond to my greeting the other day."
"Really? too!"
"I thought it was just ! Why is he ignoring us even though we are busting our asses off and risking our lives for him?"
I sigh while listening to these things.
It was only a matter of ti before sentints like this began to arise from within the ranks of the Freedom Fighters.
Many will naturally grow dissatisfied with Kalakuta for his current state of mind.
They don’t understand the burden he carries.
The power he wields.
These people do not truly know him.
They respected and admired him, but this was only an idea they had in their heads. Once that idea was betrayed, these positive emotions began to sour.
It gave room for resentnt.
And now...
’They have co to despise him.’
"Is that guy even worthy of leading the Freedom Fighters? He is too disconnected from us. It’s not even like he helps out with construction. All he knows how to do is fight."
"Exactly what I’ve been saying. Once the war ends, won’t he end up being obsolete?"
"Yeah! Conflict will soon be a thing of the past. It’s those who know how to build, like us, that will be considered the most important."
"I think Kalakuta should retire once that ti cos. Our new leader should be soone with both military might and expertise in construction."
"You an the Knight, right? I’ve also had this idea for so ti now."
"I know he controls a lot of Magivores and he also has a good relationship with everyone, but don’t you think he is too new to lead us? Has it even been a year since he joined?"
"Precisely! I’m even his senior!"
"Why not consider the Tinkerer? He’s great at strategy and was Garett’s second -in-command at the ti..."
The group goes on in their discussion.
I remain hidden and listen.
But—
’Okay, that’s enough.’
Unable to endure their careless words any longer, I approach the group with a deep frown on my face.
"K-Knight... brother, how are—"
"I heard what you all said." I fold my arms while glaring at them.
Panic begins to spread on their faces.
Sha and worry surface.
Such cowards.
They displayed such confidence when speaking in their hidden corners, but now that things have been exposed, they retreat to their shells and beco ek.
"We only have one leader. He is Kalakuta. Do not ever mistake his generosity and compassion for weakness." I sigh deeply, shaking my head at the group. "If I ever hear you badmouth him again, I won’t let you off easily. Now scram!"
They imdiately scurry off, thanking and apologizing as they depart from my sight.
This is the problem with egalitarianism.
It causes unruly behavior like this to fester and eventually thrive.
Familiarity breeds contempt.
Love can easily be overturned into hatred.
Respect may turn scornful.
Loyalty eventually transforms into betrayal.
If concrete barriers and hierarchies are not established, people will make their own.
Case in point.
’This isn’t the first ti I have seen this happen among mbers. Our Freedom Fighters group has gotten too large, and most mbers are new. This problem will only continue to increase with the passage of ti.’
In fact, that isn’t all.
’I have had people approach who have subtly brought up the issue of taking charge. Of course, I feigned ignorance and let them know I support Kalakuta, but if it isn’t , it might as well be soone else...’ My gaze travels to the vast field, and I alternate glances between the gravestones of fallen mbers and the living Freedom Fighters who tread these grounds.
It has never been more obvious to .
The Freedom Fighters are slowly fracturing and won’t last for much longer.
’Our days are numbered, and Kalakuta can’t keep holding on forever...’ A sad smile forms on my face once I accept this.
It was indeed fun while it lasted.
I was enlightened.
’This was inevitable. But that doesn’t an the mission has to stop. In fact, this is a sign to finally conclude our fight as a group. Kalakuta must also be thinking the sa.’
We have taken down the Northern Empire, Central Plains, Eastern Sects, and Western Alliance.
All that’s left is the Southern Kingdom..
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