30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

13 – 5. Morning Star (3)

*

Knight Dian August endured the agonizing pain of the loathsome confession with a will as strong as steel.

Isabel remembered it that way.

What mattered wasn’t the time when Sir August cursed at her, screaming obscenities, or the incident where Ivan, a man, grabbed his arm and tried to leak the records of the knight’s accounting ledger.

Of course, Isabel, who found it difficult to witness such scenes, immediately struck Sir August’s face.

After listening to a sermon on how dangerous it is to mess with the person whose head was spewing blood from Ivan, Sir August was finally able to speak.

“Mom?”

“Yes.”

After examining the well-healed wound, Ivan gave a clear diagnosis.

“Shock-induced regression. Isabel, it’s your fault for hitting him. Reflect on it.”

“Do you think Sir August won’t recover? Can he return to how he was before?”

“Don’t worry. It’s a common symptom, and with time, he’ll regain his senses.”

After glancing outside for a moment, Ivan spoke.

“But screaming too much drew attention. The ones lurking on the mountain will start coming down soon, so we need to be prepared.”

“And Sir August?”

“I’ll carry him.”

Ivan gazed at Isabelle, who was also looking at him.

After a moment of silence, Isabelle, finally understanding Ivan’s gesture, asked, bewildered, “Me?”

“Yes.”

“And you?”

“We have to fight.”

“I can fight too!”

Ivan looked down at Isabelle and shook his head. She certainly had exceptional abilities, almost unmatched among her peers, but her mindset didn’t match.

Her complexion paled at such events, and her hand holding the knife trembled incessantly.

“Seems so.”

“His words and actions contradict each other…?”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head.”

Ivan chuckled and turned away. Isabelle, left alone in the room, sighed heavily and lifted Dian onto her back.

It was heavy.

It wasn’t weakened to the extent of being unable to bear the weight of an adult man. The dumbbells she used during training were heavier than Dian.

But the weight of this injured and weakened man pressed down on her shoulders.

As she struggled to hoist Dian up and walked out, Ivan, standing with his back to the moon, suddenly turned to look at her.

“You do have some talent.”

“That’s really insulting. Sir, do you happen to know me? When did you see me to speak about ‘our’ words?”

“Seems your temperament resembles your mother’s.”

“Oh, making a man draw his sword. So, which side of the family is that, the maternal or the paternal gene?!”

“Well, I’ve forgotten both of their faces by now.”

“What…! That’s…! Absurd…! Oh…”

Though her features and skin seemed strangely youthful, she tightly shut her eyes, looking at the thick, unkempt beard that covered Ivan’s entire jaw.

It had barely been four years since the war ended.

And that war had lasted for almost twenty years.

Naturally, for people of that age, losing parents during the war wasn’t unusual….

She felt strangely unjust. No, if one didn’t have parents, was it all right? Bringing up parents was quite impolite! Wasn’t that the case in Crasillope? Wasn’t that just a form of greeting? (Such inquiries about one’s parents were considered a courteous greeting in Droan but not in Crasillope.)

After grumbling for a while, she finally understood Ivan’s words and was taken aback.

“Do you know my father?”

“Hmm.”

Ivan smiled subtly at the little one’s expression, where emotions changed rapidly.

Well, who could truly ‘understand’ Maximilian?

He shrugged and spoke.

“Gather the survivors. Make a fire and tear the train seats to use as blankets. The winter night on this land will be harsher than you think.”

“If we make a fire, won’t it attract attacks?”

“That’s not something you need to worry about.”

“You’re going alone? Without knowing who the enemy is?”

“That’s also not something you need to worry about.”

Meeting Maximilian’s daughter for the first time, Ivan felt a somewhat unexpected emotion.

Appearance and talent resemble her father, but her personality is completely different.

Maximilian used to boast about his ‘hometown sweetheart,’ describing her as affectionate and considerate, especially during winter nights. It seems she takes after her mother.

Love is dangerous like this, preventing people from facing flaws and weaknesses. Ivan chuckled and left the place.

*

In the tactical doctrine Ivan learned, there was a saying.

Assume the worst and act with the best.

It was so obvious that Ivan used to scoff at it back then.

That was until he reconsidered the sentence through practical experience.

The truth of that sentence was like this.

Assume the worst. In other words, the enemy always attempts to attack in the most difficult way possible.

Act with the best. This means if your opponent is the worst possible for you, you must become such a presence for that opponent.

Therefore, imitate the opponent’s tactics. The worst attack you can think of will become the best assault you can deliver to the enemy.

So, what Ivan had to do now was clear.

First, assume the most dreadful situation.

‘Being ambushed during survival escape would be the worst. It will get worse if we engage in a delaying action.’

Intermittent attacks in the dark night worsen fatigue. While Ivan might endure, it’s a lethal attack for the wounded and the little one.

So, assuming the worst, the opponent must anticipate Ivan and his party escaping. Logically, when a train is derailed due to someone’s attack, they should leave the scene and request support.

Now consider the countermeasure.

Nonchalantly dragging out time, leaving the opponent’s goals visibly exposed. To appear powerless.

As a result, the personnel scattered for tracking must be retrieved. It’s time to change tactics from pursuit to encirclement.

This world is not a strategic simulation game. Unfortunately, it’s more like an academy drama.

The soldiers don’t immediately ‘output’ actions just because you ‘input’ commands.

That means a delay in time occurring when retrieving the tracking team. From that moment, gaining an advantage in tactical layers and starting.

And from the position of attack, the encirclement usually comes with a psychological advantage. They’ll see themselves as a mouse in poison, ready to be caught at any moment. Therefore, the opponent will choose the attack timing more carefully.

At the point of retrieving the tracking team, to ensure the target doesn’t escape. With the intention of delivering an unavoidable blow at the optimal timing.

This is the next best option. The ‘worst attack’ the opponent could think of.

So, they mimic. Making the enemy’s best become their worst. Preparing for a surprise, refining the attack carefully, and unfolding the encirclement.

“Sigh….”

In the deep shadows of the thick forest, holding a cold gun tightly.

Ivan quietly breathed in and let out a short exhale.

Crouching under the trees, slowly raising his hand, careful to draw a straight line with his shoulder and fingertips. Suppressing hand tremors as much as possible by following the rhythm of his body.

Click.

Slowly, pulling the trigger with the momentum of three breaths, ensuring the aim doesn’t shake from the index finger inside the trigger guard.

Soon.

– Bang! –

Pistol sniper technique. A shooting method designed for eradication unit agents who need to conceal rifles in urban areas to launch long-range attacks with pistols.

A silhouette about the size of a thumbnail collapsed under the moonlight.

No need to rush a reload. Hit on the first shot. Soon, an uneasy atmosphere spread through the forest. The enemy had also realized from the gunshot.

The ambush had begun.

Moreover, they would soon realize.

The eradication unit’s ambush had begun.

In the dark night and deep forest, with familiar terrain and suitable weapons in hand.

The eradication unit’s ambush meant individuals could encircle a group.

*

– Bang! –

When gunfire echoed in the distant forest, Isabelle concealed her trembling hands, preparing for the enemy’s assault.

It was clearly the sound announcing the beginning of a fight. Birds startled in their slumber, flying away in panic.

The people gathered around her, shivering in front of the bonfire, gazing at her.

“Are we all going to die now…?”

“So scary… It’s so scary… Mom… Mama…”

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The sounds of survivors, each with at least fractures, echoed around her as they limped and staggered.

Amidst confusion, burden, and guilt, Isabelle reluctantly lowered her head. They were victims entangled because of her. The fact that there were only a dozen survivors from the large train weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Then, a low voice came from behind her.

“The reason we call a hero a hero is not because he is the strongest, but because he is the bravest.”

“Sir August? Are you in your right mind?”

August, who had been leaning on her back, spoke with a somewhat absent voice.

“So, we should not become heroes. We should not even try. We must recognize our own weakness.”

“Sir August…?”

“We must stand in the position of the weak, look at people like us with the eyes of the weak. The reason we wield a sword is not because we are brave, not because we are strong, not because we are superior to others.”

August’s voice still lacked ease.

But strangely, it was clear and precise, as if trying to carve each letter into her heart.

“The reason we wield a sword is because it is right. Because it is just. For the sake of the justice we must uphold. Therefore, wielding a sword is no different from donating to the poor every day and occasionally supporting the injured. It is only natural. It is just.”

“Sir August…”

“So, raise your sword. Do not try to become a hero. You, Knight of Thales. Stand here with humility, not bravery.”

Now she could understand what Dian was talking about.

This was a very old and traditional knightly training process.

Not the authority bestowed by the lord on his knight.

It was the final lesson from the order of knights to their successors.

Dian August was a figure from a traditional order of knights, and even now, having lost his ease, he continued to recite the most memorable words in his heart.

“Raise your sword for justice. Doing good is always a small and proper thing. Raise your sword not for your strength but for your justice. Now, your name is a knight.”

Dian did not speak again after those words. He only exhaled weakened breaths.

Isabelle knew about Dian’s history. This man had served as a seasoned mid-level knight since the war with the Demon Army.

Now, she could understand why a sentence he might have heard just once a decade ago remained so clear and undistorted in his heart. She felt that she, too, would never forget this moment for the rest of her life.

She stood up from her seat and finally raised her head to survey the surroundings.

Many people were looking at her. Suffering from cold, fear, pain, and hunger.

Those who had been driven by her.

Guilt still pressed on her shoulders, but now, nonetheless, she could feel…

“I will do so.”

Slowly lowering the Diana, Isabelle stood upright before them.

The black sword gripped in her hand felt heavier than before, but the trembling hand from moments ago now calmly embraced the hilt, holding it firmly.

In her eyes, a new star was rising.

*