Chapter 11: Surviving the Calamity

The person holding me was Fred. His face was now covered in blood and grime, his originally fair skin smeared with patches of gray and red dirt. Although he looked exhausted and weak, his eyes radiated unstoppable relief and joy. His hands were trembling slightly, whether from the fear of the battlefield or the excitement of seeing me.

“I just ran out, and in the blink of an eye you were gone. I waited here for a long time. I saw a lot of people run out, but I just couldn’t wait for you. I thought you… you…” Fred suddenly choked up and couldn’t go on.

I saw Dakla slumped to one side, staring blankly ahead with lifeless eyes, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Rodrick was tightly clutching Gerard’s body, quietly sobbing. Riley, mentally broken down, was laughing foolishly, swaying aimlessly as he laughed, completely unaware that drool had soaked the front of his clothes. Roll, usually the most timid of all, was strangely calm at this moment. He kept wiping the short sword in his hand. The blade was already shining like new, but he still couldn’t stop wiping it. As he wiped, he said, “I killed you, I killed you, I killed you…”

Seeing this scene, I suddenly recalled everything that had just happened, as if struck by lightning—arrows piercing through heads, brains splattering mixed with blood, Rama’s pale, terrified expression at the moment of death, intestines spilling out of bodies… I suddenly felt nauseous, as if a hand was tearing at my stomach, trying to squeeze its contents bit by bit up through my esophagus.

“Ugh…” I shoved Fred away and vomited violently against the cliff wall. The smell of blood on my body stung my nose, making this sick feeling even harder to control. I wished I could vomit out my stomach—or just take it out, wash it clean, and put it back.

“Fred, how many came out?” Carlson, having caught his breath a little, asked as he glanced over the men who had escaped.

“Reporting, sir. Including me, there are twelve—” Fred glanced at me. “No, thirteen people escaped the canyon. All survived except Gerard. The others have already left.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“Because they need looking after…” Fred looked around at the soldiers who had been scared into collapse and answered. “And besides, my friend hasn’t come out yet.” He added. I, who was still vomiting, shuddered all over. I knew that “friend” meant me.

I looked at this handsome young soldier once more. He had saved my life from under the hooves of our own men. Even when he himself was in danger, he still worried about whether I was alive or dead. At the edge of the battlefield, he was still willing to risk his life waiting for news of me. Looking at his calm and determined expression, I knew that if I truly hadn’t come out, he really would have turned around and charged back into the canyon to look for me—even for my corpse. Even if what he had to face was a group of killing machines who specialized in bloody slaughter.

He was my friend.

I stopped vomiting and sat on the ground, gasping for air in big breaths. I couldn’t hold back the tears streaming down my face.

“Idiot!” Carlson roared. “If the Winston really had charged out, what could you have done alone? Could you have saved them? Could you have saved your friend? Remember this: your life is meant for running. When you run for your life, run as far as you can. Got it?!”

“Yes, sir!” Fred gave a standard military salute in response.

“Alright. From today on, you are my adjutant. When I’m not around, you exercise command authority.”

“What should we do next?” A gentle, unfamiliar voice sounded. Only then did I remember there was still that young Mage who had run with us the whole way. He had already tidied his tattered Mage robe, put on his hat, and stood beside us. It was only now that I had a chance to observe him closely.

This Mage was about the same age as me. The intense activity just now had left his complexion slightly pale. The edges of his robe were worn in many places and stained with blood and dirt, yet it still gave off a mysterious feeling. He was quite handsome, but his handsomeness was very different from Fred’s. He didn’t have Fred’s cold aloofness. He made people feel warm and peaceful, and his expression showed friendly warmth. Especially now—so different from the way he had been screaming in terror during the escape—he had gained an extra touch of refined elegance.

“My name is Poirot. I’m a hired army Mage. I think we should get out of here as soon as possible. Would it be alright if I stay with you all for now?” It was hard to imagine that his voice could be so pleasant. Earlier, when he was chanting the acceleration spell while running, his voice had sounded no better than a chicken with its throat cut.

The squad set out once again. The soldiers who had just left the brutal battlefield were all a bit neurotic. The slightest sound made everyone unable to stop themselves from screaming. It took Carlson a lot of effort to gather such a group together: he used a loud slap to wake up Dakla and Riley, who were on the edge of collapse; then he tried his best to tell Roll, who had killed a man for the first time in his life, in a gentle tone, what a correct and joyful thing he had done; finally, he carried Gerard’s body on his shoulder and said to Rodrick, “Don’t bring shame to your brother.” And so, we left the Dragon’s Spine Canyon and began our road of escape.

In that battle, the Seventh Legion of the Delanmaya Empire was ambushed in the Dragon’s Spine Canyon by the Winston Empire’s Western Route Army of the southern campaign. Out of more than ten thousand soldiers, fewer than four hundred survived. It could truly be called a complete annihilation. The Winston Army suffered fewer than a thousand casualties and won the first decisive battle of the entire war.

After the battle, corpses lay scattered everywhere across the Dragon’s Spine Canyon, and blood flowed so deep that even shields could float. Great flocks of crows circled in the canyon for three months without leaving, which is how it earned the fearsome name “Blood Canyon.” It was said that even many years later, when it rained, the water collected in the canyon was still faintly red and gave off a strong smell of blood.

At that time, we had no idea how lucky we were to be alive. We sat blankly around the fire, staring at the burning flames, silent.

“Will they… come after us again? Are we safe here?” Roll broke the silence. His words also exposed the unease deep in our hearts.

“They just won a big victory. They won’t chase down fleeing soldiers in the middle of the night.” Carlson said from where he lay on the side. At this moment, no one felt dissatisfied with his laziness. After all, this man, known for fleeing and nicknamed “The Back,” had saved our lives.

“Right, they won’t come after us. And even if a few more days passed, they still wouldn’t chase us. They have a bigger goal.” Fred finally broke the silence. It looked like he had figured something out.

“Have you ever thought about it? Why did the Winston appear there? And since they set up the ambush so early, why didn’t they use a better way to attack us? If they had used fire instead of ordinary bows and arrows, they could have wiped us out completely without losing even a single soldier. Why didn’t they do that?”

A chill ran through my heart. Fred was right. If they had buried flammable oil in the ground in advance, a single tiny spark would have burned us all to ashes. It really was an extremely vicious, clever plan. Luckily, they hadn’t done it.

“Because we weren’t important. What they wanted was Titello City. It was like that from the very beginning.”

“Splitting their forces was just for show. As soon as the Winston main force left the Dragon’s Spine Canyon, they climbed up Dragon’s Spine Mountain and set up their ambush early. And all the reports we received about attacks in the western interior were probably from small decoy units. They only attacked weak villages, never stayed anywhere, and moved like ghosts. One purpose was to confuse us, and the other was to exhaust the troops back home, so they couldn’t reinforce Titello City on all fronts. They knew from the very beginning that we would want to surround and wipe out the Western Route Army, and that we would definitely send a force to reinforce Titello as quickly as possible. What they were waiting for was that not-so-strong reinforcement force—which was us.”

“Think more carefully. The whole way here, we passed at least six dangerous spots that were suitable for an ambush. Why did they pick this one, the closest to Titello? Because they wanted us to stay in contact with the castle until the very last moment. They absolutely could not let the defenders inside the city know that we had already been wiped out, even though it meant risking being attacked from both sides by us and the defenders. Similarly, they couldn’t use fire, because flames and smoke would also alarm the castle, which was less than half a day’s journey away, and give the defenders time to prepare.”

“So, they attacked us in a way that cost them more, and left an escape route on the road we came from. If I’m not guessing wrong, the other end of the canyon definitely had heavy ambushes. They absolutely couldn’t allow anyone to reach Titello before them.”

“Why?” Dakla asked, scratching his head. Fred’s explanation was way too profound for him.

“This is the most crucial point. They’re going to disguise themselves as a reinforcement army and enter the castle. Our uniforms are the key to unlocking Titello City.”

“So that means Titello is in danger now?” Rodrick’s military family upbringing had filled him with the sense of responsibility of a soldier. “We should notify them as soon as possible…”

“It’s already too late. Titello has probably fallen by now.” Fred sighed and said in a low voice.

“I don’t believe it. I’m going to go see for myself. What if the defenders didn’t fall for it? We’d still have time to ask for help…” Rodrick’s voice grew softer and softer, until finally he couldn’t hold back his sobs. “More than ten thousand people… died so horribly… and they died for nothing… Gerard, Rama… We can’t just do nothing.”

No one said anything. Even as new recruits, we understood very well that Fred was right—Titello had definitely fallen already. But so many of our living comrades had died horribly right beside us, and there was nothing we could do. This helpless grief made the truth hard to face.

“You’re right,” Carlson said after a long while. “Someone should go scout for information.”

“Fine, I’ll go right now.” Rodrick stood up and was about to leave.

“Anyone but you,” Carlson said loudly. “Your brother just died. If you charge over there like this, there’s no guarantee you won’t rush into death on impulse. I need a scout who can come back, not an idiot who goes to get himself killed.”

He looked at us, a group of young new recruits still full of childish naivety, and smiled wearily. “It should be me.”

“No, sir. It should be me.” Fred stood up. “If you leave and something happens, who can lead us out? Who is familiar with the terrain around here? Who has wilderness survival experience? I’m your adjutant. It’s my duty to scout for information and come back to report. Besides, I also want to confirm my speculations.”

Carlson looked at Fred. The muscles on his face twitched slightly. Finally, he patted his shoulder. “Go.”

Looking at Fred’s tall, thin figure and at Carlson’s expression, a wave of heat suddenly rushed through my heart. “I’ll go too, sir,” I said. “If more people go, and something unexpected happens, we can make sure the message gets through.”

Fred looked at me, seeming to want to say something, but in the end he said nothing.

“Mage sir,” Carlson tacitly approved my proposal and called over Poirot, who was shrinking to one side. “You’re a mercenary, the only one besides me with combat experience. I hope you can help these two soldiers go scout for information.”

“Ah, I… I really wish I could help you, but in today’s battle I used up too much of my magic. Right now I can’t help with anything…” The young Mage’s face went red and then pale as he answered nervously.

“Is that so? Then I don’t see why I need to bring along someone who can’t help with anything while running for our lives. And besides, for the sake of secrecy…” Carlson puffed out his beard, bulged his eyes, and put on a frightening expression, deliberately toying with the short sword in his hand.

“Ahem, well… I still wish to do my best to help them. After all, this concerns the responsibility and honor of a mercenary.” Poirot’s face suddenly turned completely pale, and he hastily changed his words.

“Then I’ll trouble you with it…”