Chapter 7: Conclusion

The giant leapt at Wyatt, sending a heavy yet quick slash his way. This was the “carriage-driver” slash, an attack so wide it went around and hit the target in the back. With all the power and momentum behind Gaius’s blow, by all rights it should have smashed through his opponent’s defenses and split the man in twain, but Wyatt immediately activated the Scarlet Plate to attain the power to block the slash. He twisted around and used his Sword Eater to defend. Wyatt’s perception and skill had to be extraordinary for him to react to and stop this incredible attack. The power of the Scarlet Plate, too, was frightening, to give him the strength to stop the full might of Gaius Beldarus’s attack with only one arm.

There was a crash as sparks and pieces of metal flew. Meanwhile, Gaius was already making his next move. He swung sideways at Wyatt’s head and Wyatt shifted immediately to a two-handed stance, blocking Gaius’s swing. Gaius broke from the bind and swung at his other side, but Wyatt blocked this as well. He flipped his faussar and tried to cut into Wyatt’s neck, but Wyatt flicked his Sword Eater and deflected the attack up.

All of this happened several times faster than it would take two regular swordsmen to perform the same moves. Another blow, and another. After all this, the two finally pulled apart and faced each other from a short distance away. The guildmaster had kicked Emon aside the moment he had activated the Scarlet Plate, and the dwarf was now lying near the Command Center, unmoving.

“Gnnh...” A beastly growl came from the Kobold King’s throat, a grunt of pain from the knight in the red armor.

“Black Rose of Igris...!” Wyatt howled in a low, dark voice full of hatred. His anger had boiled over into pure loathing.

“My current title is the Kobold King. Please stop calling me by that old nickname, Sir Wyatt.”

“‘King?!’ You claim to be a king...?! Just how...how far must your ridicule go?!”

“I ridicule no one,” Gaius said, blade still facing Wyatt, then he called out to his pupil. “Emon!”

“...Yer late...old man...”

“...You did well.” They were probably the words the boy most wanted to hear. Emon smiled, satisfied, and laid his head on the ground as he finally ran out of strength.

“...Thank you, Emon,” said Gaius. The words were quiet but heartfelt.

“Your Majesty!” Sashalia called out.

“I really put a burden on you, didn’t I, General?”

“No!” the loyal retainer exclaimed hurriedly, then continued in a more professional tone: “Your Majesty, I’m busy commanding our troops to clean up the rest of our foes, so may I ask you to deal with this?”

“Of course. Carry on, General.”

“Yes, sir! Okay everyone, one more push! Please make sure the wounded get treated, too!”

“Yes, ma’am!” The housewife alliance all answered in unison, their energy restored.

“‘Clean up’...?! Girl! Did you just say ‘the rest of your foes’?” Wyatt’s eyes practically popped out of his head with rage.

Sashalia smiled in response. “Yes. Your soldiers who were heading north through the forest have been reduced to less than a third of their original number. It’s really too bad, after you managed to get that many together again.”

The old kobold in Gaius’s rucksack popped his head out and joined in, waving his arms about. “And the group we faced by the river turned tail and ran after we cut down half of them! Hohoho!”

Things were exactly as they’d said. Heatley’s squad had run after losing their commander and half of their men. Ashcroft’s forces had come under attack by Rain Grass and the attack squad, Red Eye’s magic staff squad, and other kobold fighters all brought together and working skillfully to bring their numbers down steadily. The adventurers were almost routed. This was all, of course, due to Sashalia’s continued leadership of the kobolds.

Wyatt could only listen to their words in mute amazement, but he quickly collected himself. “...No, it’s not over yet. If I cut you down here, if I kill all of you...! I can keep moving forward!”

“All I’ll say is it’s futile.”

“It’s fine. This is no longer a matter of gains and losses.”

“Is that right? I suppose there’s nothing for it, then.”

They both took up their swords once again, measuring the distance between each other, slowly, slowly stepping closer. Then the clash resumed.

“Groooh!”

“Nwaaah!”

Their swords struck and they both moved between offensive and defensive positions several times. If Gaius pushed forward, Wyatt activated the Scarlet Plate and pushed back. Each of Gaius’s blows would have had enough strength to rip Wyatt’s arm off, but Wyatt defended with all his might. Meanwhile, Wyatt’s swift slashes could probably cut through rock, but Gaius stopped them with his board-like cleaver. Sparks flew with each clash, the slowly chipping sword glowing as if it were bathed in flames. All this happened at speeds the human eye could barely follow.

“You monster! You damn monster! You have all this power and you waste it!”

“I could say the same to you. That’s something very interesting you’ve got there.”

“I wouldn’t have had to use this toy if not for you!”

Their battle raged like a storm, moving from the square containing the Command Center to the entire village. Their blades clashed over the still-burning wreckage of houses even as the flames burned their bodies. They could smell each other’s hair and skin burning, but still never took their eyes off one another. The clash of their swords only increased in intensity as they grabbed flaming pillars and tossed them aside and stepped over furniture wrapped in flames. At one moment, they pushed against each other’s blades, their faces almost close enough to touch, and at the next, they hid themselves behind houses, watching out for an opportunity to strike. Wyatt used the power of the Scarlet Plate to leap over a dwelling and launch a surprise attack at Gaius, only for Gaius to then thrust his faussar straight through a wall at his next opportunity to surprise Wyatt. All their accumulated experience was put into this exchange of blows, and as it went on, it led to new wound after new wound appearing on both their bodies.

The fighters did not restrict their combat to using their swords. They punched and kicked, and used every technique at their disposal to throw everything they had at each other. All the fatigue and wounds Gaius had accumulated began to weigh him down, while the searing pain and burden of using the Scarlet Plate were straining every part of Wyatt’s body and driving him to the brink of madness.

The king fought with wild abandon to protect his kingdom. The knight was seeing the world with a warrior’s clarity, all thoughts of political ambition evaporating from his mind as he fought to protect his dignity. As the battle raged on, each of them chipped away at the bodies and minds of his opponent.

...Even Wyatt’s sword, strengthened as it was by magic, was beginning to chip away after so many impacts with the other blade. They’d struck each other dozens, possibly even over a hundred times.

Their battle lasted quite a while, but in a way it also felt that it was over instantly. No matter the case, a conclusion was bound to be reached, and it came announced by the sound of a blade shattering.

The moment their swords met for the last time...the huge sheet of steel that made up the length of the faussar gripped in Gaius Beldarus’s hands shattered into pieces.

＊

The steel didn’t bend or break; it merely changed its form from a sword into fragments of metal, crumbling like a dry cookie.

“What..?!” Gaius was shocked for a moment, but quickly recovered and leapt backwards to put some distance between himself and his foe.

Wyatt watched him, narrowing his eyes with glee and smiling coldly. His face still dripped with sweat, however, a sign of the torment he was enduring. “It would have been a much shorter meal if your sword hadn’t been a great sheet of metal.” Wyatt boasted, showing off the pattern on his own sword’s blade.

“I see. It’s your weapon. The reason my faussar deteriorated so unnaturally in our last battle was because of that magic...no, that cursed sword.” Gaius replied. He took a classic “frontal stance” used in unarmed combat.

Even as they exchanged words, there was a palpable tension between the two warriors. Every one of their actions was part of an invisible power struggle between them.

“‘Sword Eater,’ it’s called. You must have heard the name before. Mine’s the original.”

The cursed Sword Eater was a weapon of no little fame, forged by a pair of brothers: one a legendary blacksmith who specialized in magic swords and the other a genius spellcaster. It was a masterpiece among all modern magic weaponry, so famous that all throughout the war, as well as before and after it, countless fakes and copies of the sword had been forged.

“I’ve heard of it. The fourth prince of a neighboring country, known as the Red Tiger, once had possession of it, but lost it when he perished in the Five Year War.”

“It’s true. He did lose it, and now I have it.” Wyatt showed the blade off with a sneer.

“I also heard that the previous Marquis of Northplain defeated the Red Tiger.”

“I was the one who really killed the prince.”

“I see.”

This was a common occurrence. It was more convenient for everyone for such deaths, and such kills, to not be attributed to rank-and-file soldiers.

“It might have been different if I were a noble... No, even if I’d been a knight like you already were at the time.” Was the curl of his lips there from self-deprecation? “It’s more than a simple spell forged into this sword to strengthen it. If that’s all there was, it’d be no different from any other magic sword. The name ‘Sword Eater’ comes from the powerful curse that was also incorporated into the blade. This sword slowly imparts that curse into other weapons every time they touch, and when another weapon has its fill of the curse, it shatters... ‘eaten.’” He gestured with his chin to the discarded hilt of the faussar, tossed uselessly to the ground. “Just like that cleaver.”

After his speech, he laughed again. “But I’ve never truly had to rely on Sword Eater’s power...truly waited, with bated breath, feeling like my entrails were being squeezed with every breath I took, for my opponent’s sword to break, until you! You, Gaius Beldarus!” Wyatt spat something that had been filling his mouth. Red fluid, speckled with bits of broken tooth, spattered on the ground.

“I’ve made use of so many things...endured and sacrificed so much in order to find my way here...to be standing here... You wouldn’t call me a cheat, would you, Beldarus?”

“I wouldn’t.”

It’s part of a warrior’s duty to seek, obtain, and utilize the weapons and methods required for victory. Concepts such as “fairness” or “cowardice” mean nothing in the pursuit of this.

“Your sins lie elsewhere. What I cannot forgive is that you sacrificed innocent lives for the sake of your conspiracy.”

“You dare speak of righteousness when you turned your back on the path of a warrior?!”

Wyatt stepped forward, armor glowing, and launched a vicious slash at his opponent’s windpipe. Gaius retreated, but too late. The blade cut through the leather protecting his hastily raised arm and bit into his flesh.

“Ugh?!”

“You’re not getting away!”

Next he aimed for the torso, the thighs, the arms again. Gaius did his best to dodge, but the cursed blade chased after him. Cuts opened up in his coat of plate, exposing the armor underneath. The leather armor covering his limbs was in an even sorrier state, covered with blood. However, the flames still burned bright in the Kobold King’s eyes.

After several more attacks, Wyatt went for a one-armed thrust and Gaius twisted to avoid it. The king thrust an arm through a nearby wall and pulled something out from the other side, sweeping it to the side with a whoosh. The attack surely would have broken bones if it had connected, but it just grazed Wyatt’s nose.

“Tssh?!”

The red-armored knight had jumped back to avoid a wooden post used in the construction of one of the pit dwellings. Gaius had helped to erect most of the dwellings in the village, but the earlier buildings had been hastily constructed by the kobolds alone, so some of the materials hadn’t been properly fastened together. The dwellings all shared the same layout, so it was easy enough for Gaius to imagine where the supports would be from the outside. He had simply ripped one out of the structure with his monstrous strength.

Realizing what the weapon his opponent now wielded was, Wyatt quickly changed his fighting stance. He was surprised, of course, but this didn’t change his superior position; that piece of lumber was no match for his Sword Eater.

That was not the extent of the Kobold King’s counterattack, however. Gaius hadn’t merely swung the lumber. After forcing Wyatt to retreat with the horizontal swing, he used the same motion of the swing as the windup to heave the beam directly at Wyatt, holding the wooden post directly from the bottom and using his arm as a spear-thrower to launch the post forward.

Whoosh! The lumber flew in a straight line instead of an arc, which was harder to defend against, and it had been launched with Gaius’s absurd strength. It was practically a point-blank shot from an ancient ballista. The post flew almost straight for Wyatt’s face, and the red-armored knight barely managed to avoid a fatal strike by snapping his head to one side. Instead, the missile tore into his cheek, ripping his left ear completely off as it sailed past him, scraping against his skull.

“Monster...!”

Without giving him a moment to catch his breath, Gaius was suddenly grappling Wyatt. He took hold of Wyatt’s right wrist and elbow with both hands, circling his arms around the smaller man to pin his arm. His aim, however, was obviously not to immobilize the arm, but to destroy it.

Wyatt wasted no time in activating the Scarlet Plate and ramming a strengthened headbutt into Gaius’s face. The Kobold King twisted his neck down just as quickly to take the blow on his forehead instead of to his nose.

Clunk! There was a sound like two boulders colliding as the men impacted, then pulled apart from each other. If there had been more distance between the two of them, their heads could have picked up more momentum and their skulls might have shattered; Wyatt’s would have definitely been the first to break. Still, that suicidal attack had just barely allowed him to escape.

“Gruooh...” The shout was the howling of a great beast.

The Kobold King still tried to grab at his foe, but the guildmaster managed to regain some distance from him and get back into a proper fighting stance, his sword flashing defensively.

“You’re so powerful, even unarmed...! It’s incredible! Incredible, Beldarus!” Wyatt’s voice shook as he let slip his true admiration for his enemy. “...But that’s why I won’t give you another chance!”

Gaius tried to make his next move, but Wyatt quickly defended with a slash. He would never let the man get away to pick up a weapon he might have hidden nearby. Wyatt concentrated power from the Scarlet Plate into all the necessary ways to hinder Gaius, to force him back, to crush him down. Each slash, each step reduced Gaius, whittled him down. Wyatt cut at him, not even giving him the chance to turn tail and run. Even as Wyatt could feel his own bones splitting, his joints wrenching, his flesh tearing, he kept his target pinned, driving him slowly out of the village to prevent any chance of the man launching a counterattack.

Once they were beyond the fence enclosing the village, there were no more residences. There was nothing to grab, nothing to block him with. Nothing to use as a shield. Gaius was being steadily beaten down more and more, as the fight grew decidedly one-sided.

“Glrbh!” The burden on his internal organs must have just become too much to bear. The knight in the red armor suddenly spat a bloody froth and staggered. Gaius didn’t miss the opportunity he was given and grabbed Wyatt.

...But his one chance to recover was denied just before he could accomplish it. Wyatt recovered from his momentary daze and activated the patterns on his armor once more. There was a horrible wet snap! as Wyatt’s knee connected with Gaius’s gut, and his massive body left the ground, flying back towards the village.

“Gfoh!”

“Gw...Aaaah!”

A groan and a scream both went up. Wyatt collapsed to his knees. Gaius was only in the air for a second before—crack!—he crashed into a still-burning structure.

＊

...This was the first structure the adventurers had set fire to. It was a small shed where burial tools were kept. Gaius had been pushed back so far from the village outskirts that he’d been driven all the way to the kobolds’ burial ground.

The impact completely destroyed the shed and Gaius rolled along the ground past it, scattering pieces of wood as he went, until he finally crashed into some stakes sticking out of the ground, snapping them as he came to a stop.

“Oof, ouch... Hey, meathead! You all right?! Pull yourself together!” The elder’s voice came from Gaius’s rucksack, but when the latter tried to spit the dirt out of his mouth to respond, bloody mud came out instead. “Answer me, you dolt!”

“...I’m...fine...”

“You’re obviously not, you numbskull! You’re really going to die if you keep this up, you know! Just run for now! Get out of there!”

Gaius didn’t answer him. He merely lay on the ground, unable to even summon the strength to sit up. He felt heavy. His bones, his organs, every part of him was screaming in protest. ...Still, running was not an option. If he ran, there would be no one left to stop Wyatt. That would mean everyone’s death. So...

So...

“Hey... You’re not thinking of letting yourself die to stop him, are you?!”

Once again, Gaius didn’t respond. He merely stared at the ground in silence.

“Stop! Don’t!”

“I can still...pull it off now.”

“No, you can’t! You can’t, Gaius!”

If he took a hit from Wyatt’s blade, he could get close enough to snap his neck. Or crush his exposed face. Really, all he had to do was immobilize the other man. He knew he could do that if he allowed himself to get hit. If he gave up his life.

“I’ll finish this...I’ll make sure of it.”

“Don’t, you idiot! Does your idiocy know no bounds?!”

“I get that...a lot.”

Gaius gathered all his strength and made to sit up, when...

...You really are a stupid male, aren’t you?

...he heard a familiar voice. Or maybe it was just a hallucination brought on by his pain and distress. But when he saw it, Gaius definitely heard her voice.

A thin blade, glittering in all the colors of the rainbow as the light of the flames hit it. The line of steel stood straight up in the dirt as if pointing to heaven, a single magic orb shining on its hilt.

...It was the magic sword, Stingfeather, and Gaius Beldarus was resting on the grave of White Fog, his dear friend.

＊

I wonder if this is how it feels to be an insect. Wyatt almost felt as though his bones and muscle were no longer holding up his body, and it was only the thin red plate covering him that supported him. That was how badly his insides were twisted, torn, shattered, and crumbling.

After this battle was over, if his wounds healed, he’d probably never be able to move like he used to...he may never even walk again. But what does that matter? I don’t care. I don’t care! How can I?!

Muttering to himself almost like he was trying to cast a curse, Wyatt took one step forward, then another. Agony gnawed at him with each movement, his heart pounded like a maelstrom, and the elation he felt at defeating his sworn enemy was bringing him back to his original state of mind. He no longer cared whether he won or lost this war. His own destruction was far from his mind. Rather than Wyatt the knight, who always used logic to seek out every advantage, he was turning back into Wyatt the warrior, a man fighting for his own pride. Because of this, he was feeling a great amount of emotion now.

Wyatt had given up everything that he’d built for himself until now, everything that he’d obtained, and all of his future for the sake of this confrontation, and because of all that, he’d managed to surpass Gaius Beldarus. That fact filled his heart with a blissful warmth.

Though his senses were fading with every step he took, Wyatt continued putting one foot in front of the other until he finally had Gaius at his mercy before him. The Kobold King knelt on the ground, hunched over with his back exposed, like a criminal awaiting execution via decapitation.

Wyatt said nothing to him. He had neither the strength nor the patience anymore to move his tongue. Still, he was careful to stay out of range of his opponent’s arms as he silently raised Sword Eater. It was less a calculated act at this point than it was the response of the reflexes ingrained in his body. Right as he was about to step forward...

“Please, lend me this, Fog!” Gaius stood, twisting his body and thrusting his arm out in a stabbing motion.

Wyatt was ready for a counterattack like this. Even if his foe now held a weapon in his hand, his thoughts immediately accelerated, ordering his deteriorating arm to defend.

“Sting!” howled Gaius.

The highly sophisticated magic blade extended, aimed straight at Wyatt’s face. Wyatt had never seen this kind of magic sword before, and could not have expected Gaius could possess one, so he had no way of anticipating this. However, the red-armored knight’s reflexes were enough to best even this. He responded to the threat instantaneously, blocking the tip of the blade with his Sword Eater. The point of the sword was quicker than an arrow, sharper than a spear, fine like the point of an awl.

Gaius Beldarus thrust out the beautiful, brittle blade with all of his monstrous strength, but Sword Eater intercepted it before it could reach Wyatt, and Gaius’s weapon fell to pieces just as the previous one had.

It was a speed bordering on godlike. The quality of Wyatt’s swordplay was the highest it had ever been in his entire life.

...However, that was enough. That one moment was enough time.

When the red-armored knight moved his sword out from in front of his eyes, his enemy was already right in front of them. When his warped sense of time returned to reality, a massive hand was grasping the gauntlet around his sword hilt. Gaius grabbed the blade of Sword Eater in his gauntleted left hand and pushed the blade into the base of Wyatt’s neck.

Thuck. Their eyes met. Snap. Something tore.

Wyatt’s hands dropped from Sword Eater’s hilt as his fingers weakened in time with his heartbeat. It took less than a few seconds for Gaius to plunge the blade into Wyatt’s flesh. Wyatt could feel the sensation of the sword tugging at him as it moved, but there was no pain.

It shattered his collarbone, pushing through the red armor to dig deep into his chest. Gaius then twisted the blade, snapping half of it off within Wyatt. The cursed blade had either reached its limit in this battle, or perhaps it had been activated so much today that its curse had finally been turned around on itself. Maybe it was simply following its master into death.

“Don’t be ashamed. It was three against one.” The king remarked as the warrior fell to his knees.

“...Yeah, right... You cut down...dozens of men today...” The words came out haltingly, and with blood. Wyatt gave a short huff of laughter, then continued, “But...at the end...my sword...” He sunk to the ground, squeezing out the words. He couldn’t move anymore. His consciousness was fading with every beat of his heart. Wyatt could feel the life pouring out of him. ...surpassed yours. The words didn’t make it out of his mouth. He no longer had the strength to move it. Yes... As a swordsman, I... His thoughts and memory started to cloud as his vision slowly darkened.

...Come to think of it, why did I take up the sword?

“Were you a good boy, Wyatt? Here, I picked this up for you in the capital. It’s another of those picture books you like.”

“‘Iron Knight Iwanoshin and the Crystal Princess’?! Wow, Dad! Thanks! None of my friends have this one yet!”

“Hahaha. Well, good. You really love these books, huh?”

“Of course I do! I mean, Iwanoshin’s super cool, Dad!”

Ah...that’s right. Something hot filled his throat, but he couldn’t even choke on it anymore. Wyatt muttered to himself in his darkening mind, as if just remembering something he’d forgotten. I wanted to be Iwanoshin.

＊

After having escaped from Wyatt’s control while the knight was battling to the death, Cyril ran through the forest as fast as he could. He was smiling, though the corners of his mouth twitched sporadically.

“Finally! Finally! I’m finally free!” He would escape this battlefield as fast as he could and leave the Marquisate of Northplain behind altogether. He would finally be able to take back the freedom that had been stolen from him for all this time! The cuffs on his wrist were heavy, but this didn’t bother him. Cyril ran through the trees, basking in the sensation of the freedom it had taken him so long to recover.

However...

Shunk. Cyril’s foot sank into the ground. He immediately threw himself backwards, twisting his ankle in the process. He let out a sigh of relief when he looked down at his legs.

“Th-That was close...” A pit trap hidden by the kobolds yawned open at his feet. He cautiously peered over the edge to see a fanged maw of countless sharpened stakes. If Cyril had fallen in, he would have been completely immobilized.

“Oww!” When he backed away from the pit, trembling, he finally noticed the pain in his twisted ankle. “Ouch... Coulda been much worse, though. I should consider myself lucky...” A twisted ankle was nothing compared to getting stuck in one of those vicious traps. Cyril took a couple of deep breaths, thanking his good fortune.

“How stupid would I be if I got this far and then fell into one of these traps? I’ve got to keep my cool and be careful. I’ll be all right. I’m lucky. I’m really lucky.”

Theron was dead. Hubert was dead, too. Wyatt would likely soon follow them. All of Cyril’s problems had disappeared one after another without him even having to dirty his own hands. “What could this be if not my good luck?”

Cyril had spoken that question out loud to no one in particular, but his eyes met someone else’s. That someone had been dozing in this part of the forest, likely tuckered out from getting so much intense exercise earlier in the day. The two stared at each other for so long that it began to feel awkward, as neither one had expected this meeting.

...After a little while, Cyril let out a strangled scream, and the six-legged sleeping beauty gave a grunt of surprise of her own.

“No, no, this can’t be!” Tears and snot ran down Cyril’s face as he set off at an awkward hopping run, trying to lessen the strain on his pained foot.

The furred lady just watched him go, blinking...until she realized she’d gone through all that work earlier without preparing dinner for herself. The lady stretched to wake herself up and ambled lazily after the former hunter.

＊

Gaius returned to the square to be met with cheers from the kobolds. All the injured kobolds who had retreated back to the village, the housewife alliance at the Command Center, and the elderly, women, and children who had been hiding in the forest greeted him with much jubilation.

“It’s the king!”

“Mr. Gaius!”

“Your Majesty!”

“Gaiuuus!”

Gaius was swept up in a torrent of fur.

“I’m back, everyone.” The king sat down so that he could extend his hands to his people and a second rush of fur leapt at his chest. It was Fluff and Amber Blossom.

“Uncle!”

“Uncle Gaiuuus!”

“Hahaha. Were you good, you two?”

“You came back like you said you would!”

“Of course I did. I promised, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but you promise me souvenirs when you go shopping, and you forget sometimes, right?”

“Hmm. I guess you’re right about that.”

“Fluff!” Blossom poked disapprovingly at her cousin.

“Hahaha.” Gaius pet the two children, showing them that he wasn’t bothered.

Fluff panted and shook his head to escape, then jumped down from Gaius’s knees and climbed back up again, pressing his head against the back of Gaius’s hand to demand more. Did he want to be petted or didn’t he? Maybe he was just too excited to know what he wanted.

“Hey, you big lug, when are you gonna let me down?” A hand reached out from behind him and smacked him on the top of the head. It was the elder.

“Oh, old-timer. Sorry about that.” Gaius reached around and took off the rucksack, brushing some of the kobolds out of the way to place it on the ground.

“Not a considerate bone in your body, is there?”

“Hey, Grandpa, don’t be so rude to the king!” Hopping Rabbit scolded the elder after he climbed out of the bag.

The old kobold scoffed. “Ahh! It was cramped and dark and smelly and I kept bouncing and falling and biting my tongue and hitting my head and being swung all about! That was the worst ride of my life!”

“Grandpa!” Hopping Rabbit’s fur was practically standing on end.

“I really caused you a lot of trouble, Elder. I appreciate everything you did for me today.” Gaius bowed his head.

The elder scoffed again. “...So, work on making it more bearable for the next time I have to ride inside.” He turned around and waved his hand dismissively, rubbing his hip as he hobbled away.

The Kobold King gave another deep bow to the old man’s back.

“Sir Gaius.” Sashalia appeared next, leaning on her cane, as the king continued to be mobbed by his people. “Welcome back. I knew you would make it.”

Gaius nodded.

“I took the liberty of preemptively informing our captives of the guildmaster’s death and releasing them one by one near the river. As expected, they got into contact with the forces on the other side, and now all of our enemies are retreating.”

Night was approaching, but it still seemed a little hasty of them to retreat without confirming the death of their commander. It was evidence of just how low the enemy’s morale had fallen.

“Red Eye and Rain Grass are currently commanding our forces to retrieve the wounded and capture those enemies who have surrendered. Darke should be returning soon.”

Gaius smiled at the girl, whose eyes still sparkled even with how exhausted she must be feeling. “Thank you, Miss Sashalia. We only won because of you.”

“Th-Th-Th-That’s not true! I don’t deserve such praise! I just did everything I could!” Sashalia waved her arms in front of her and her face turned bright red. She’d dropped her cane without thinking, so the housewives rushed over to hold her up.

“The king is right, Sashalia!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“The kids were all safe because of you!”

“Take pride in yourself!”

One of the housewives gave Sashalia a pat on the butt and the fledgling general reddened even more. She looked like she’d start steaming if you poured water on her.

Gaius gave her one of his peculiar smiles and put his hands around her waist. “Hup.” He sat her on his shoulder and stood up.

“Gyaaaaa! Too hiiigh!” The half-elf screamed, clinging to Gaius’s grey head.

Gaius held her in place with one hand and laughed, looking out over the crowd around them. “C’mon, everyone!”

A chorus of kobold voices came in response.

“Long live the general!”

“You did it, little lady!”

“Three cheers for Miss General!”

“Ooh, let’s give her a cooler name!”

“Yeah! We’ll all think of one!”

“Stooop iiit! You’re embarrassing meee!”

That got everyone going. Then came a new voice:

“Mmm, a splendid idea. Something really evocative, like ‘The Red Reaper’ or the ‘Flame Demon General.’” The speaker was the pale-faced, smirking Darke, who had been sent back from the front lines early due to her injury. A splint was tied to her right arm, which she’d hurt in her battle with Wyatt. A sling tied around her neck held the arm up against her chest.

“So you’re back...you idiot.”

“Heheheh.”

Gaius mussed up Darke’s black hair with a massive hand. She stood there for a moment with an expression she’d never normally wear on her face before looking up. “I’ve returned, Lady Denan.”

“Welcome back, Darke.” The general on Gaius’s shoulder replied, and the two shared a smile.

“Well, the truth of the matter is, you defeated a huge army with a small force, Lady Denan. That’s an important achievement when you consider the future of the Kingdom, so we might need to spread the word some.”

“Ugh.” The military commander could only make an uncomfortable face when presented with such a sound argument.

“Well, I’ll tell our captives all about you, and I’ll make up a few things to go with it. Worry not, Lady Denan!”

“Nooooo!” Sashalia clutched her head atop Gaius’s shoulder.

“Actually, I think the people outside the forest will probably give you a nickname on their own. It might even be something as embarrassing as ‘the Black Rose of Igris’! Keheheh.” That hurt the Kobold King more than anything he’d been through in the entire battle.

“...Say, Darke. I’ve been thinking.”

“Hwha? What about?”

“Will you stop calling me ‘Lady Denan’ already?”

“Hunh. You prefer ‘Flame Demon General’?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Sashalia shouted and lost her balance. She hurriedly clutched at Gaius’s head, prompting the king to yell “Not the hair!” Righting herself with the noble sacrifice of a few strands, she sighed and said, subdued, “...Just use my name, why don’t you?”

“Whaaat? But ‘Sashalia’ is long and hard to say.”

“Whoa, you really don’t pull your punches, do you?” She sighed again, then after hesitating for a moment: “...Fine, then... ‘Sasha.’”

“What?”

“...It’s what my close friends used to call me when I was a kid.”

“Hunh... So you had friends besides me, Lady Denan.”

“O-Of course I did! Like any normal person! As a kid!” Sashalia was still clinging to Gaius’s head with one arm and waving the other one around in protest, but she quickly caught on to the implication in Darke’s words. “...You’re such an idiot.” She looked away from Darke to hide the embarrassed look on her face.

“If you want me to call you by a kid’s name, then you can be ‘Sally’ from now on.”

“That’s not what I said!”

“...Yeah, over there, keep going.” Dwaemon arrived just then, interrupting the dispute between the two. Bandages covered him from head to toe as he was carried over on a stretcher. Fluff had gone to his big brother’s side at some point and was wagging his tail furiously next to him.

“’Ey, yer back, old man. Good to see ye too, Sis!” Emon greeted them, moving only his hand to give them a wave.

“Back at you,” replied Darke. “And hey, you’re looking a lot manlier than I remember, kiddo.”

“Aww c’mon, don’t tease me, Sis.”

“...I wasn’t teasing.”

“Wha?! Really?! Ye think the ladies’ll be all over me?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Well then, what’s the point...?” Emon grumbled.

Darke laughed and gave him a flick on the forehead. “Don’t push yourself, Emon. Just rest.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man. I’m fine. I’ll be right as rain with a good night’s sleep.” Barely any time had passed since he’d sustained his injuries, but he was completely lucid now.

“Frankly, I’m surprised you’re alive with injuries like those, but they won’t heal if you don’t take it easy.”

“Huh? Yer takin’ the vitality of a dwarf lightly. Don’t ye remember what I told ye before? Ye can cut a dwarf’s ’ead off and it’ll stick back on if ye put it back fast enough.”

“Err... And how fast is ‘fast enough,’ exactly?” Sashalia asked, sounding mildly disgusted.

“’Round three days, I hear.”

“What the heck...? Even cockroaches give up faster than that.”

“Hey, that was uncalled fer!”

The square erupted with laughter, kobolds slapping their knees, putting their arms around each other’s shoulders, and wiping the tears in their eyes. It was like they could all finally breathe again after holding their breath through the fear and worry all this time.

...Thus, the defense of the Kobold Kingdom came to an end.

On the adventurers’ side, out of the three hundred thirty-one fighters they started with, one hundred fifty-eight died, went missing, surrendered, or fled, and many were injured. Including the guildmaster Wyatt, three of the five knights on the expedition died in battle. Many of the adventurers who survived retired or quit because of their injuries, and the Ryburgh Adventurers’ Guild rapidly lost its ability to function as such.

Meanwhile, on the Kingdom’s side, they suffered thirteen losses, which was about a third of their original fighting strength of forty-six, and some fifteen fighters were injured. From the shameless standpoint of pure tactics, these were incredible military gains for minimal losses, but that fact comforted neither the commanders nor the commanded.

Their losses had been great. What they sacrificed would never return to them. Nothing could make up for the tragedy of their deaths. Some found themselves unable to celebrate their victory.

Still... They’d joined forces, and forged a future for themselves. Their friends standing next to them now and their children had all survived. The kobolds embraced and gave thanks for that fact through their tears.

All those who had returned to the stars...this is what they had fought for.