155 - Holy Knight Liel
From atop the city walls, I looked at the enemy facing the capital of Zain.
The Zain forces deployed before the main gate numbered twenty thousand.
No mercenaries were participating. Furthermore, the number of siege engines was small. Above all, the enemy's morale was incredibly low.
"They feel reluctant to point their bows at their own homeland, huh,"
I muttered this as I watched the bewildered soldiers facing the army gathered at the capital of Zain on the fourth day.
It was the same for us. Though the recapture was successful, my allies had been hesitating to point their bows at their comrades until a few days ago.
Touching the orb, I reflected on the fact that I hadn't predicted this outcome.
(It's a good thing we avoided a full-scale battle. If we had clashed head-on, the rift between the capital and the provinces within Zain would have deepened. Moreover, many soldiers likely wouldn't have been emotionally satisfied even after entering the capital.)
I had seized control of the temple and brought the soldiers to our side.
Since it was established that the Saint was already gone, they joined us relatively easily. As expected, the Saint seems to hold great significance in this country.
As the morning sun rose, I thought while watching the opponent unable to move.
"Abandoned by the mercenary groups. And since they haven't even assembled the siege engines—"
A voice spoke from within the orb.
It was the Fourth Generation.
'It feels like they don't want to attack their homeland. They invade other countries, yet they act like this; it's laughable. Plus, the funds are on our side. Mercenaries are cold to employers who can't pay.'
The Seventh Generation added,
'The tide has turned. The capital has already fallen. The enemy does not have an accurate grasp of our numbers, and furthermore, the Saint explicitly declared them a rebel army.'
Aura-san had officially claimed the title of Saint and announced that we, the Holy Knights, were the regular army. Then, she declared those who followed the Holy Knights to be a rebel army.
This had an unexpected effect, and the enemy was shaken.
(Even if she's just a figurehead, a Saint is a Saint, huh.)
The Fifth Generation spoke.
'They probably don't think it could be taken with only about six hundred men. They likely think there are around three thousand? There were opposition factions within the country, after all.'
Paranoia. They might think there were traitors within the country.
(Which isn't exactly wrong.)
As I watched the immobile enemy, Clara, who was standing beside me, spoke.
"Liel-san, shall we continue this staring contest? It looks like the opponent is about to collapse on their own."
I shook my head.
"I have an idea before that."
I turned around, and there were the families of the soldiers. Clara looked at me with judging eyes.
"Liel-san, are you really going to do this?"
I nodded.
"I am. It's better this way, right? The fewer casualties, the better."
It was the Third Generation who thought of this dirty trick. But if this could create an opening, it would be worth it. We had five hundred soldiers with proper equipment—
Preparing for the charge.
"Now, shall we begin?"
—The sun rose, and the city gates of Zain became clearly visible.
Arman was looking at those gates, which seemed sturdier than usual. As he stepped out of his tent in armor, he felt irritated seeing the depressed state of those around him.
"To be misled by the nonsense of a fake Saint!"
The low morale of the soldiers was visibly apparent. Even when ordered, they wouldn't even attempt to assemble the siege engines.
Even when they did, there was no precision in their movements. The knights were also preoccupied with dealing with soldiers who were being treated as rebels.
Many of the soldiers gathered from the provinces were on the verge of fleeing, having been labeled as rebels by the former Saint, Selma. This was because Selma had pursued policies that looked toward the provinces rather than just the capital.
And then, there was the result of Remis being slain.
That had been a heavy blow.
There was no Saint to acknowledge them. As Arman looked on resentfully, he heard the voices of the capital's soldiers.
"I can't point a bow at them. I have a family."
"I have a sickly old lady... if the city burns, I won't be able to escape."
"What's the deal? They said it would be a piece of cake, but the knights aren't helping at all."
Arman began to panic. It wasn't just the provincial soldiers; the morale of the capital's soldiers had also plummeted terribly.
(Don't panic. We have twenty thousand. Excluding the rear guard, there are fifteen thousand. The other side has at most three to four thousand... otherwise, they wouldn't have bypassed us to go for the capital. We have siege engines. If I force them to work and invade—)
Just as he thought that, a voice called out from atop the city walls. It wasn't a soldier's voice.
Arman hurriedly looked up at the walls, and there were the residents.
"Marco, come home! It's not too late yet!"
"Do you intend to attack us! Hurry back and apologize!"
"Father! Please come back!"
The families of the capital's soldiers were atop the walls. Then, a man in full armor appeared and declared boldly.
"I am Crate, Vice-Commander of the Holy Knights! You soldiers who have joined the rebel army! I will not stop you if you wish to fight. But will you attack this city where the people you should protect reside! If you surrender now, your crime of joining the rebel army will not be questioned! Drop your weapons and surrender immediately! This applies to the soldiers from the provinces as well! If you refuse to disband and choose to fight, we shall be your opponents!"
Arman muttered.
"T-these people, have they no shame! To put unarmed people on the battlefield! Hey, prepare to attack immediately—"
Arman shouted, but one soldier was seen dropping his weapon.
"I'm done with this! I'm getting out of here! I can't point a weapon at my own family! You lot can fight all you want!"
A man with short blonde hair walked away, conspicuously dropping his weapon. Seeing this, Arman thought—
(This guy, could this be a setup by Selma and the others—)
Then, another person. And then, one after another, soldiers began to drop their weapons and leave the main camp in the same manner.
"W-wait! Don't run! Desertion is a capital offense! You lot, don't runnnn!"
A great number began to flee, and the knights, unable to stop them, gathered around Arman.
"Commander! It's no use! It's already impossible to stop them!"
Watching the fleeing soldiers, blood flowed from Arman's clenched fist.
"To think... without even fighting... I would lose. These twenty years... do you know how I've endured..."
Shortly after Arman joined the Holy Knights, Selma became the Saint. Then, unlike before, she stopped the extreme practice of invading other countries.
Even while she worked on internal affairs, she did not provide them with a battlefield.
"You cowardly curs! Are the weapons you hold just for show!!?"
As he screamed toward the city gates, the gates slowly began to open. There, knights on horseback were preparing to charge—
The gates opened.
Astride my horse, I removed the orb from my neck and gripped it in my right hand.
Before me were the confused soldiers. Then, the knights noticed us and hurriedly grabbed their weapons and mounted their horses.
Taking a deep breath inside my helmet, voices came from both sides. To my left, Aria, wearing red armor, spoke to me.
Holding a spear and mounted on a horse, she looked every bit the knight.
"What, are you nervous now of all times?"
From the right, Miranda, in green armor, spoke to me. She had chosen a conspicuous color to draw attention to us.
"You get nervous at the strangest times. It was more dangerous when we stormed the temple."
The others were Crate-san and adventurers who were originally knights—
Behind them were fully armed soldiers. I had trained them to some extent over a few days, but all they could do was charge and retreat.
They couldn't form complex formations, and in this battlefield, such things were meaningless.
I raised my right arm horizontally to shoulder height and then brought it straight in front of me. As I gripped the orb, a blue light erupted, and a silver halberd appeared.
It was similar to the one the Sixth Generation had held, and it had the advantage of low mana consumption. Holding it tucked against my side, I gave the order to everyone.
"Target the Holy Knights! Do not spare a glance for the soldiers! One head—the enemy Knight Commander's. That's our victory! —Charge!!"
As I spurred my horse forward, the surrounding cavalry followed. Most of the enemy soldiers had scattered, allowing us to charge into the disorganized knights without resistance.
An opponent leveled a spear at me as I led the charge, and I slashed through both the spear and the man in one horizontal stroke with my halberd.
Aria also swung her spear from horseback, piercing the gathered knights.
Miranda caught a knight's spear thrust with the dagger in her right hand, then immediately released threads from her left hand, pulling the opponent off his horse.
The soldiers finished off the immobilized enemies.
Crate-san was also fighting enemies on horseback and pushing forward. Perhaps because of a difference in raw strength, his experience fighting as an adventurer was clearly paying off.
However, there were still difficulties with coordination.
(They're being too meticulous.)
As I glanced at Crate-san, a rider charged from my blind spot with a spear. I blocked it with the halberd held in one arm, then drew my saber with my left hand and thrust it into a gap in the opponent's armor.
Blood sprayed from the gap, and I let go of the saber without pulling it out. As the knight fell from his horse, the Fifth Generation's voice spoke.
'Well done. For a first time, at least. Look, there's your target, the big boss—the Knight Commander.'
As told, I shifted my gaze away from the fierce fighting around me and faced the Commander of the Holy Knights—Arman Benard, weapon in hand.
One of the Holy Knights was cut down and fell to the ground, motionless. Looking at the weapon, my eyes widened.
Coincidentally, we both held halberds.
The opponent raised his mask and shouted at me. Was it resentment, or anger? He looked at me with bloodshot eyes.
"Are you the leader of the rebel army! Be slain by my hand! I'll send that woman to join you shortly!"
I did not remove my helmet. It didn't have a function to open and close the mask. I had no intention of removing my helmet just to converse with the opponent.
Then, the Third Generation spoke.
'Liel, shall we announce ourselves? This is the end.'
I readied my halberd.
"I am the Holy Knight Commander... Liel Walt. You are the Holy Knight Commander, yes? I shall be your opponent."
"A-a child... you mock me to the very end!"
Hearing my voice, Arman's face turned even redder, likely thinking I was still young. He lowered his mask, and the eyes visible through the helmet glared at me as if to shoot me dead.
A duel between commanders on the battlefield. I hadn't expected such a situation to arise. After all, the enemy had no archers, nor soldiers protecting the perimeter.
As the knights of the Holy Knights were taken down one after another, Arman kicked his horse's flank, and I spurred my horse as well.
When our halberds clashed, sparks flew.
The Seventh Generation spoke.
'As expected of a Knight Commander, his weapon is a fine piece of craftsmanship. Liel, clash with him to your heart's content.'
Arman, who was larger than me, brought his halberd down with great force. As I blocked it, my horse buckled slightly under the pressure.
Then, as he swung it back up, he unleashed a flurry of attacks in every direction. Blocking and parrying, I watched my opponent amidst the flying sparks.
"What's wrong, brat! Is this the end for you! Just this! For twenty years! The feelings of having no choice but to endure for twenty years, to be faced by the likes of you!!"
Blocking and repelling the opponent's attacks, I gradually began to deflect Arman's strikes, breaking his posture on horseback.
Whenever he tried to create distance, I pressed forward, giving him no opening.
The surroundings had grown quiet, perhaps because they were watching our fight.
I could understand how much he had polished his techniques. But the reason he wielded them was wretched.
"Did you want to steal it that badly? Did you long for war that much? For what purpose!"
At my words, Arman replied,
"That is what it means to be a knight! Is it not the same for nobles! Fight, steal, and gain honor! What is the difference! A brat like you who knows nothing of war should shut up! A brat who knows nothing should not act so high and mighty!"
Arman probably didn't mean it this way, but I felt as if the Sixth Generation was being insulted. I grit my teeth.
Then, a voice came from the halberd. No, it came from the blue glowing orb in the axe head.
'You're not wrong. We certainly are the lowest scum.'
'Indeed. One wrong step and we are no different from bandits. Just scum.'
'But you see, even scum have a code. Don't lump us in with people who do nothing but run wild like you!'
'Hmph, neither knights nor bandits. You are scum who believe themselves to be right. I would be troubled if you equated us.'
The Fifth Generation's tone felt harsher than usual.
(Is he angry... thinking of the Sixth Generation...?)
I strongly swept aside a downward strike. Watching the opponent lose his balance and gasp for air,
"It's true that nobles are scum! There are plenty of terrible ones!"
As I went on the offensive, Arman was forced into a defensive position. Large sparks flew, and Arman's eyes widened.
"Even so!"
As I raised the halberd and brought it down, Arman was blown backward along with his horse.
"We aren't just beings who steal like you! There are honorable people too!"
As I swung the halberd diagonally upward, Arman's halberd was knocked up, leaving his torso wide open.
I felt as if I could see the figure of the Sixth Generation. The Sixth Generation fought to expand his territory, but there were many events that led to that.
Like Arman, he invaded other territories. But there was a reason for it.
(You're not the same! The Sixth Generation... is not the same as you!)
The Fifth Generation endured, and the Sixth Generation went on the offensive. It was to protect. Because he judged that if he were invaded forever, he could not protect his own land—
"Don't equate us!"
Changing my grip, I swung horizontally.
Arman's armor was sliced open, and a massive amount of blood sprayed out. Still gripping his halberd on horseback, Arman collapsed against the horse's neck.
He turned his face toward me and glared.
"B-brat... rot in hell."
As I remained silent, a voice spoke from the orb. It was the Third Generation.
'Liel, try using [Mind]. Show him. Show him that we aren't the only ones falling into hell.'
I pointed my left hand at Arman.
"Rest assured. I am prepared for that. But do you think you will be forgiven?"
The skill—Mind—a skill that interferes with the psyche.
A skill to shake and disturb the opponent's heart. But depending on the time, place, and how the opponent is guided—
"Can't you hear them? The voices of the innocent people killed for your honor? Can't you see them? The arms clinging to you, dragging you down into hell?"
Then, Arman's face turned pale.
As if remembering something, he began shouting a name.
"Zauro! N-no! That was an accident! It was an accident! A-aaah!! Don't touch me, don't touch me!"
While blood sprayed from his torso, Arman threw away his halberd and tried to shake something off.
The surrounding enemies and allies watched this scene.
"It couldn't be helped! That couldn't be helped! It was an order! I'm not at fault! Stop it! Don't drag me downnnn!! No! I don't want hellll!!"
Screaming, with a face stained in terror, Arman fell to the ground and breathed his last. Then, the survivors of the Holy Knights threw away their weapons.
"N-no! I'm different!"
"Forgive me! I was only following orders!"
"N-no! I don't want to go to hell! I don't want toooo!!"
The enemy knights in a state of panic began to surrender, and our war was coming to an end. From here on, a different kind of war awaited.
Aura-san, who became the Saint.
Selma-san and Gastone-san, who would assist her.
And the war of Rolfis. Each person's battle, and the subsequent cleanup—
I raised my halberd and let out a victory cry.
"Victory is ours!"
While the surrounding soldiers let out roars, the enemy knights sat on the ground. Crying, and clutching their heads.
The surrounding knights and soldiers looked at me. In their eyes were respect, awe—various emotions were contained.
Then, Aria, on her horse, approached—
"You, are you actually a Holy Knight or something? I-I mean, you've been a bit strange for a while, but could you actually be the real deal?"
—She had removed her helmet and asked that with a straight face.
(...What is this girl talking about?)