Chapter 117: Who Should Say Sorry

Though we were extremely unwilling, we still accepted Eckdin’s invitation and went with him to tell Evlinna the news of the High Priest’s death.

“I’m sorry, I… I hope you can… I don’t know how to tell her this news…” When this middle-aged man, twice my age, begged us pitifully before us, no matter how much his and his clansmen’s actions on the battlefield had annoyed us, we forgave him. After all, the person standing before us was not a tribal Chieftain, someone who should bear some responsibility for the failure of a battle, but a helpless elder, the family of our friend.

I believed that on the way there, everyone had repeated in their hearts what they were going to say to Evlinna hundreds of times. But when this lovely girl saw us, walking toward us lightly with a tender smile like the morning breeze and fine dew, calling our names and greeting us, we couldn’t say a single word.

“Uncle Eckdin, you’ve all come back safely? How was the battle? Oh, I’m so silly. With you here, and Mr. Guderian and your brave warriors, no one could be stronger than you. Where’s my grandfather? Why don’t I see him? Is he in the back…”

I had no good feelings toward the High Priest — that stubborn and bigoted old man. It could be said that his death was entirely his own doing. In fact, he should be held responsible for all the people who died needlessly. May all the immortal Deities forgive me. At the moment of his death, I even felt a little joy, feeling that this man’s death brought only good, not harm, to the entire Lumburi Tribe. While he was alive, his fanaticism surrounded his people like a city wall, cutting off their path toward progress.

But now, I didn’t dislike that dead man at all. No matter who he was, no matter what he had done, after all, he was Evlinna’s grandfather, her only family. I couldn’t hold resentment against him in front of his granddaughter. No one with even a trace of feeling could possibly do that.

“Ev, your grandfather, he…” Eckdin gathered all his courage but still couldn’t finish the sentence. He looked at us anxiously, hoping we could help him. Even when facing dozens of fully armed, brutal enemies, this warrior had never shown the slightest fear. But now he simply didn’t dare to face the girl who was smiling at him. Looking at his face, which had turned purple-red, I guessed he would rather have died on the battlefield.

We quickly exchanged glances with our companions, and a look of difficulty passed through everyone’s eyes. No one knew how to tell this cruel news to the girl before us. We were all executioners with blood-stained hands, long used to seeing death. But this time, the news of death suddenly became too heavy, making it impossible for us to open our mouths.

“Your grandfather is dead!” A voice suddenly rang out. It was cold, merciless, stiff, and harsh. There was no decoration, no comfort. It was merely stating an objective fact in the simplest declarative sentence. If there was one person who could still speak in such a tone at a time like this, it could only be Roll.

Roll stepped forward, looked expressionlessly into Evlinna’s stunned eyes, and told her the cruel fact again: “Your grandfather is dead!”

The indigenous girl couldn’t accept the news. She looked at us pleadingly, hoping that words different from this would come out of our mouths. But we disappointed her: every time her gaze swept over someone, that person lowered their head in shame, not daring to meet her desperate eyes. Except for Roll, no one had enough courage to face her directly. I really couldn’t imagine how Roll managed to do it. His words relieved our embarrassment, and I also knew that at this moment, anything said would hurt just as much as those words. But I still hated him for no reason, as if he were the one who had brought this ill-omened news into the world.

“Uncle Eckdin, tell me, where has my grandfather gone?” Suddenly, Evlinna grabbed Eckdin’s wrist and dragged him frantically toward the back of us. As she dragged him, she shouted: “Take me to him! You take me to him!”

“Your grandfather is dead!” Roll walked up to her again and shouted in a raised voice.

“I can’t hear you! I don’t believe it!” Evlinna cried and screamed like a madwoman. I had never seen a person change so quickly. The rosy-cheeked, playful, shy girl from just now had left this body, replaced by a desperate, frantic woman. She shook her head desperately, messing up her beautiful, soft brown hair, biting her lips tightly, her face covered with an unnatural deep red color caused by violent agitation.

“Take me to him, I want to see my grandfather! Uncle Eckdin, tell me, tell me, what he said isn’t true, isn’t true… Take me…” She shook Eckdin’s thick arm, looked at his face with misery, her breathing short and disordered. Kelsey and Eliot couldn’t bear to watch any longer and ran away from there in tears. Millia clutched Fred’s arm tightly, not knowing how to comfort this lonely, bitter girl.

“Little Ev, listen to me, listen to me…” Finally, Eckdin pulled Evlinna into his arms, held her small face in his big, rough hands, and said, “I know you don’t want to believe it. None of us want to believe it. But what Mr. Roll said is true. Your grandfather is dead, killed by the Cretans…”

“I don’t believe it…” Evlinna covered her ears, screamed, and ran away from him, darting quickly into her own tent. Soon, the sound of her sad sobbing came from inside. No one went to comfort her. It wasn’t that we were unwilling; it was just that no one really knew how to comfort this girl who had just lost her last family member.

“Roll, you bastard, how can you be so cruel! How could you treat her like this! How could you do this to a girl…” At this moment, Dakla couldn’t hold it in anymore and shouted loudly. He grabbed Roll by the collar and punched him to the ground. In an instant, blood streamed from the corner of Roll’s mouth. He struggled to his feet and stood there still, neither fighting back nor speaking. Dakla wanted to go up and beat him more, but we held him back tightly. He struggled for a long time, finally gave up, and left angrily.

“Mr. Roll…” Seeing Dakla’s back disappear into the woods, Eckdin walked up and said softly to Roll, “Thank you. If it weren’t for you… I really don’t know…”

Roll seemed not to hear what he was saying. His gaze never left Evlinna’s tent. There, the sound of crying hadn’t weakened at all.

“I’m sorry…” After a moment, Roll finally spoke: “I didn’t want… to hurt her… This… is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Mr. Roll, it’s not your fault. No matter what we said, we couldn’t lessen Ev’s grief. She’s not a child anymore. She can bear all of this. She’s stronger than we imagine. I believe that. You did what I should have done. I’m grateful to you…” Eckdin comforted Roll, his face full of self-blame and guilt.

“…Actually, the one who should really apologize is me. I am a warrior of the Lumburi Tribe. I have the duty to protect the High Priest. We should have been able to stop them, but… but I…”

Suddenly, he let out a painful low roar: “What kind of warrior am I? What kind of Chieftain am I? I couldn’t even stop those bastards, I couldn’t even protect the High Priest! I can’t even protect my own people! I’m the one who should apologize…” He swung both fists and struck the tree trunk in front of him heavily again and again, dry bark flying in all directions with each blow.

If we hadn’t stopped Eckdin in time, this tormented, regretful man might have smashed his own hands to pieces. Indeed, as the most outstanding warrior of the Lumburi Tribe, and also the leader of the second largest tribe, he should bear some responsibility for the High Priest’s death. But he truly had done everything he could. He didn’t need to blame himself at all, but his sense of responsibility wouldn’t let him forgive himself.

“You idiot!” Watching Millia bandage his injured hands, I couldn’t help but slap him hard across the face: “You still know you’re a Chieftain? You still know you should protect your people? Then you shouldn’t be doing something this stupid. The enemies are still searching for us on this land. They could find your tribe and slaughter your people at any moment. Instead of wasting time hurting yourself, go think about how to fulfill your duty and avenge the High Priest and your dead brothers!”

My slap seemed to have some effect. Eckdin crouched on the ground, silent, his eyes gradually regaining clarity and his expression turning solemn. He slowly stood up, said goodbye to us with a heavy heart, and walked toward his people. By this time, the news of the High Priest’s death and our defeat had spread to every corner of the Giant Bull Tribe’s camp. All the frightened and confused Giant Bull people looked at their leader with hope. With each step he took, Eckdin’s back, which had been slightly hunched from regret, gradually straightened.

Watching his tall figure growing distant, I felt that our indigenous friend would handle all of this well, without needing our help at all — except for Evlinna.

When we returned to the camp, it was already deep in the night.

It was a night that wouldn’t let anyone sleep. The inexplicable defeat we had suffered the day before yesterday kept haunting me. The stove, filled with dry firewood, burned noisily, making crackling sounds that irritated me. On this early spring night, the overly vigorous fire only stirred up people’s worries but couldn’t light our way forward.

Feeling restless, I put on my coat and walked out the door, hoping to find some comfort in the clean moonlight and peaceful darkness. On the south side of the camp, the Silver Star River flowed quietly. A small clearing was hidden in the bushes by the bank. That was where I wanted to go.

“Thump!” A soft sound came from in front of me, and then I heard the sound of branches breaking. Curious, I poked half my head out of the dense bushes, wanting to see who, like me, had chosen this place to relieve their worries on this ordinary yet troubled night.

“Fred!” The sight before me made me cry out in surprise. Fred, our young leader, was standing in front of a thick deciduous tree, slashing at it with all his strength. What he held in his hand was not his beloved black war blade, but an ordinary standard-issue short sword. He was covered in sweat, panting heavily, futilely striking the thick tree trunk again and again with the short sword. His movements had no skill at all. Rather than exercise, it looked more like venting to me.

My voice startled him. He quickly twisted his body and pointed the short sword in my direction. In the moonlight, I saw that the short sword couldn’t withstand such abuse — its blade was full of nicks and notches.

“Fred, what are you doing?” I walked out of the bushes and asked in surprise.

Seeing it was me, Fred quickly turned around and moved his right arm back and forth in front of his face, as if wiping away tears.

“N…Nothing. I just couldn’t sleep…” He answered somewhat hastily with his back to me, and there was a hint of concealment in his words.

“If I believed that, I wouldn’t be Jeff Gid. Fred, you have something on your mind. Don’t think I can’t tell.” I was somewhat annoyed by his answer. Years of being together made me realize that my friend definitely had something weighing on his heart. Although I might not be able to help him, I still hoped he would honestly tell me and share his worries with me. In the past, he always did so.

“I…” Our leader seemed to want to explain something, but the words stopped at his lips and were swallowed back.

“Forget it, if you don’t want to tell me. But your energy should be used for more meaningful things…” Originally, I wanted to force Fred to tell me something in a harsher tone. Although he was my King, I felt I had the right to do so. But seeing his reluctant, innocent look, I gave up that decision. Fred had always been bearing burdens we couldn’t imagine. If keeping a few secrets made him feel safer, then let those be his own secrets.

I walked over, gently took the sword from his hand, and draped my coat over his thin shirt.

“You should go rest, Fred,” I said. “There are more important matters tomorrow that need your decisions.”

“I can’t decide anything, Jeff. I can’t make any more decisions…” Suddenly, Fred sat down on the ground wearily and said discouraging words like a child.

“What are you talking about?” His behavior shocked me. Apart from after Carlson was killed in battle, I had never seen my friend so desperate. Maybe that defeat made him feel too much pressure, but that defeat also caused the Cretans huge losses and didn’t pose a fundamental threat to us. Even when we were framed by Miraze and trapped in desperate situations, Fred had never been in such a low state as now. I didn’t know what exactly had turned my friend into this.

“I’m not worthy to be a King, my friend. I should bear full responsibility for that battle’s failure. No one should apologize except me. I caused the death of Evlinna’s grandfather. I made tens of thousands of indigenous warriors die for nothing. This is all my fault…” Fred’s voice was low, but I could hear the pain of his inner struggle.

“It’s not your fault, Fred. You have no responsibility at all,” I said loudly. “The High Priest’s death… we… we could do nothing. We all saw it. No one could have saved them…”

“Really?” Fred slightly raised his head and gave me a bitter smile. The silvery moonlight fell on his face, making it look pale and bleak.

“Have you ever thought that maybe someone could have saved him?”

“That’s impossible. The situation was chaotic at the time. The Cretans charged ahead of us. No one could have stopped them, unless someone could have foreseen their intentions…” Saying this, I suddenly realized something. My heart skipped a beat, and I looked at my friend with some fear.

“Yes, Jeff, you’re right. Unless someone could have foreseen their intentions…” Fred lowered his head deeply and answered in a small voice. His mouth was like an empty cave, and the sound he made was hollow, making it hard to listen to.

“That person was me!”

“When the Cretans’ breakout was half done, I guessed their intention. If I had gathered the army to intercept them head-on at that time, or given an early order to Red Flame in the battle, it wouldn’t have been impossible to stop them and save the lives of the High Priest and all the tribal priests. But, you saw it, I didn’t do that then.”

“Since that night before last, I’ve been constantly persuading myself. I told myself that I was only guessing at the time, with no real evidence, so whatever decision I made shouldn’t be blamed on me. I told myself that our army was nearly exhausted and couldn’t bear the losses of a head-on clash with the enemy. And I also knew that even if I had issued orders and reacted immediately, I might still have fallen behind the Cretans and been unable to save the situation…”

I recalled the situation on the battlefield at that time. When General A·Stein personally sent the High Priest back to God Lumburi’s side, there was still a considerable distance between us and him. Fred was right. Even if we had reacted at the fastest speed, the hope of saving the High Priest would still have been very slim. Even the High Priest himself would have had no reason to blame Fred’s decision.

“But these are all excuses!” Fred’s emotions suddenly became agitated. He clenched his fists tightly and stared straight at my face.

“These are all excuses, I know. I can deceive others, but I can’t deceive myself. The High Priest was too ignorant, too stubborn. With him around, we could never do what we wanted on this land, let alone have the chance to take control of this territory, raise an army, and restore our homeland. During the battle, what I was thinking about was not protecting my comrades and companions, but how to seize power…”

“That’s right, I wanted him to die. That was my most honest thought at the time!”

Fred looked at me sadly, as if expecting my criticism, and also as if begging for my forgiveness. His words shocked me greatly and made me almost unable to think. Indeed, I felt that my friend had made a mistake in this matter, but I couldn’t blame him. His conscience had punished him, and it was much heavier than what he deserved.

“I didn’t expect you to tell me all this, Fred,” I sighed and answered. “The fact that you were willing to tell me this is enough to show how noble you are.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You did everything you could. What you thought about isn’t excuses, it’s facts. I’m a soldier. I know how to judge a battlefield situation. Your decision wasn’t wrong. If it were me, or any one of us, I believe, they would have done the same.”

I sat down beside him, put my left hand on his shoulder, and hugged him tightly, just like we used to do during rest time when we were still new recruits.

“Having such a thought is not a sin, my friend. You can’t punish yourself endlessly for things you never actually did. You are our King, the leader of all of us. You must think about these things. That’s one of your responsibilities. On the contrary, if you didn’t think about them, that would be desecrating your duty. Moreover, you only thought about it. You never actually did anything to hurt anyone. I swear, even if you had given the order immediately, we still couldn’t have gotten ahead of the Cretans.” While I was trying my best to comfort him, Fred never raised his head. I didn’t know if my comfort had any effect. I only knew that as I said these words, Fred’s originally tense and trembling shoulders gradually relaxed.

“You can’t go on like this. We need you to command. Evlinna has lost her grandfather. She needs your protection. All the Lumburi people need their King. Only you can help everyone. You must pull yourself together.”

“Do me a favor,” I said softly beside him, “…forgive yourself.”

“Forgive… myself…?” Finally, my friend raised his head and cast a grateful glance at me. His right hand also gently rested on my shoulder, passing warm strength through his palm. The soft evening breeze blew through the hair on his forehead, scattering it loosely, like Elves dancing in the wind. The stars and moonlight in the sky were reflected in his bright eyes, making them look even clearer than the surface of the Silver Star River.

I knew Fred couldn’t free himself from his deep self-blame so quickly, but he looked much better now than before. He gradually broke free from his anxious regret and once again became the remarkable person I knew.

This was truly a day of apologies. Too much regret, too much self-blame, and too much sorrow hung over me and the people around me. It seemed that everyone was tormented by that defeat which should never have happened. But after all, all of this had passed. As for the scars already left on our bodies, besides enduring them, all we could do was forget.

Tomorrow was about to come. I hoped that all the apologies would turn into the will to fight by then, making us stronger when facing the enemy.