30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

16 – 5. Morning Star (6)

*

“Do you think sparing my life means I’ll betray you?!!”

This was Ivan’s voice, heard when he pressed one knee against the shoulder of Aipheleos, lifting his mutilated arm.

“Ha! Would you dare to torture me? Come, try it! I am Aipheleos, the Commander of the 6th Dragon Brigade, the White Tiger Aipheleos!”

This was the sound he made when he tore open the area around the wound and between the torn chest, as he poured healing potion.

Since he started pouring the healing potion, the voice of the once confident man began to waver.

“Hydrochloric acid…! This wretched… Ughhh…!! Curse… upon you… human scum…!”

The misunderstanding was left uncorrected. Yet, inwardly, he marveled. It was a wound that had completely torn apart one lung. Even just imagining the feeling of healing potions pouring over it made Ivan’s chest feel heavy with anticipation.

Fortunately, he had no memory of subjecting his body to healing potions with such severe injuries.

When he had suffered the most severe injuries, he had lost consciousness. It was said that he almost bathed in potions, and even if he hadn’t fainted, he would have lost consciousness at that moment.

“Ugh… ugh… it’s… useless….”

At this point, Ivan marveled. The fact that he was enduring the situation where the shattered lung was healing and the remnants of the healing potion were collecting inside the lung was remarkable in itself.

But soon, he chuckled.

“Remember me… I won’t forget you either. Even in the afterlife!”

-Slurp!

He grimaced, his eyes gleaming fiercely, biting his tongue. A horrible sound, a slurping noise, echoed. At that moment, Ivan collected the potion and exhaled deeply.

“The guy fighting on the scene. Still believing in such superstitions.”

“Huh…?”

“Biting your tongue won’t kill you. Humans are not made that fragile. The only way a person who cannot move can take their own life is through cardiac arrest.”

For some reason, the superstition that biting the tongue could lead to honorable suicide was widely spread throughout the world.

It’s amazing. Did anyone ever accidentally commit suicide while eating?

People like Ivan, who were professional agents, always had such doubts.

The more ‘brave’ warriors, knights, and generals on the battlefield, the more vulnerable they were to such superstitions. Perhaps because honor and heroism were their idea of ‘romance.’

Staring down at Iphelos with a pitiful look for a while, Ivan sighed deeply and checked the remaining residue of the healing potion.

This was the last bottle, and now there was only one-third left.

“It will only prolong the pain this way. I don’t want to torment you, Captain. This is a therapeutic act, and this potion is a healing potion.”

“Uh… ugh…!”

“Stop. The wound will only get worse.”

He opened his mouth wide, poured the remaining healing potion down, and then tightly held his mouth shut. It seemed like he was trying to spit it out somehow, but soon, the guy’s eyes softened.

The half-cut tongue soaked in the healing potion went down the esophagus, spreading throughout the body with a gulp.

Healing potions only treat trauma. Even if you drink it, it’s difficult to gain any special benefits. Unless there is a perforation in the stomach or esophagus.

Of course, if you’re suffering from esophagitis, along with the feeling of your entire esophagus burning, you might be thoroughly cured, but that’s beside the point.

“Uh… pfft….”

“Now you have the strength to speak.”

“Spider Petrovich….”

“Hmm…?”

Iphelos, whose eyes had opened, began to mutter absentmindedly.

He turned his gaze, fixing it on the thick beard that covered Ivan’s entire upper lip,

then quickly moved his gaze upward, studying the eyes and forehead.

“I heard you died… but this method… extreme… ugh… annihilation… detachment… that’s how it went…”

Was he someone who had been directly involved in activities on the battlefield during the war?

Ivan squinted his eyes.

“Why did you take matters into your own hands? It must not be good for your circumstances to throw someone like you away like a disposable item.”

If he was a major, he was just a low-ranking commander. In other words, he was nothing more than a common resource. Certainly not an important figure.

But that was a story from the time when the forces of the demons were still intact during the war.

Most of the Demon King and the Seven Dragon Generals were dead, and the remaining remnants were scattered and driven out of the world.

It had been several years since they all harbored their ambitions and engaged in individual battles based on the logic of power.

If he was a major back then, now he was an esteemed “active officer.” A type whose military strength and command ability had been verified.

“Now… cough! It’s no longer the same.”

“What?”

“Did you think we would stubbornly pursue only failed operations? Alliance… your negligence… ugh… nauseating… me…”

When they attacked Esidris, the demons had hired mercenaries while concealing their identity.

Perhaps there were followers remaining within the alliance who assisted. And it ended in a spectacular failure.

Afterward, they realized that the operation had collapsed even before it started. It had already been compromised before the operation was executed.

-You can’t just trust the followers. There’s a spy among us.

Since they were considered leaked in the information warfare, they had to send someone trustworthy. It had to succeed.

While it might not matter for others, only one person. They had to kill her as if she were the daughter of a warrior.

But at the same time, they had to consider the possibility of failure. Sending an important figure and failing would be an irreparable blow.

So, Aiphelos is the key.

‘With a competent commander like him, even a moderately risky operation can succeed. And if it fails, the damage won’t be too great. Just the right level of commander.’

Ivan looked down at Aiphelos with a bitter gaze. This guy understood his evaluation clearly.

Even if the operation succeeds, he can’t come back alive to erase any traces.

Even in a peace era long after the war ended, there was no way to carry out terrorism near Frechenkaya without leaving a trace.

From the outset, considering death and entering with that in mind, Ivan felt a strong sense of camaraderie.

He let out a deep sigh.

“Now, there shouldn’t be another terror. You failed.”

“…”

“It’s just soliloquy. No need for an answer.”

Ivan sat beside him, gazing at the sky. From the side, Iphelos’s rough breathing could be heard.

“When you fail and get abandoned, they’ll simply say it was a terror caused by ‘a few radical elements.’ Your superiors will explain it that way to the Union as well.”

“…”

“Because of your existence, the Union’s suspicion has probably skyrocketed. Naturally, you won’t foolishly plan the next terror.”

“…”

“What do you wish for?”

“What… What should I do?”

“You have three choices.”

To remain captive and be dragged to Freichanka.

Then, you’ll receive a warm welcome at the headquarters of the Krasilov Investigation Command. You’ll be held accountable for attempting to assassinate a national figure.

After that, the Investigation Command will fabricate a story, labeling this guy as the ‘Crown Prince Spy,’ and launch a political offensive.

Of course, severe torture and magical imprisonment will follow.

Or, to break free and return to your homeland.

The Investigation Command will tail him.

Even if this guy manages to escape quickly, there’s no way he’ll return safely to his stronghold near Freichanka.

Therefore, even if he manages to survive, he’ll face suspicion.

‘A betrayer who clung to the enemy to survive.’

He was likely to become a pawn among the demons, or be interrogated and executed by the demons.

But, finally.

“Do you understand your situation?”

“Kill me.”

“You’ve been rejected by your own kind. You can’t go back or move forward. The only place left is the afterlife.”

Ivan clenched the axe and raised it. Slowly, he gripped the guy’s horns.

Iphelos closed his eyes tightly and murmured quietly.

“Even if you wander through the valley of death,

Do not be afraid. I will shelter you.”

A prayer of the Demon King. Heard too many times.

During the time when the Demon King was alive, the last words of all demons were generally the same.

They died depicting the demon king. Fanatically.

Therefore, Ivan also knew the following passage.

“I am the crucifix of the darkest night.

I am the lighthouse in the stormy sea.

I am your cradle and your fortress.”

Do not be afraid. I am your refuge.

Ivan whispered, holding the horn of Aelos.

“Are your parents still alive?”

“…What?”

“If not, I run an orphanage.”

“What on earth are you talking about now…”

“Caring for war orphans with nowhere to go. Regardless of nationality or race.”

Four years ago, when the demon king died and Ivan decided to retire, the order from the superiors was as follows.

– Kill Chil Yong-jang and come back.

It meant to go and die. It was an order given to all members of the Annihilation Unit.

The Annihilation Unit, which had eight strike teams, had only one surviving strike team after that order.

When he returned successful, Elizabeth stamped his retirement application, crying. Live as if dead. Be inconspicuous.

Sorry for not preventing the order. Thankful just for being alive.

Even when the names of all those who had left were forgotten, the honor of all those who had left would be eternal.

So.

“If you only want to survive, you can abandon yourself and live as if forgotten, as if dead.”

“I’m not qualified for that.”

“Everyone is qualified for that. Loyalty and faith do not represent your life.”

If you wish, I will break your horn. It will be the last chain binding your body.

But if you want, I’ll lower the axe a bit more.

It’s the last choice to live like a human or leave like one.

At Ivan’s words, Aelos closed his eyes.

Exhaling a deep sigh.

Inhaling briefly again.

“I want to live.”

“Good thinking.”

-Thunk!

Another name was added to the roster of residents at the Saint Basilica Orphanage.

Orphan, in their 50s, of demon origin.

*

After the failed assassination of Essidus, the threat from the demons increased significantly.

The difficulty of Isabelle’s tutorial was, in other words, Ivan’s own fault for failing in his actions.

And that meant.

‘The tutorial doesn’t progress simultaneously.’

It wasn’t a game where events were handled at the same time for each character created, but rather, there was a time difference in the events experienced by each starting character.

Ivan stroked his chin lost in thought.

Demons weren’t simply moving like predetermined AIs.

Like everyone else in this world, no one here was just an NPC.

Even events progressing based on clichés could ultimately face fluid outcomes depending on variables.

So, what could one expect? What should one do?

Ivan turned his gaze to Isabelle.

She was watching the survivors with sad eyes.

‘Save these guys and let them graduate.’

It’s an academy-themed world. It has to be that way. Even if there are no players, characters, or NPCs. At least that one thing shouldn’t change.

It’s not too late for overthinking after that.

“Uncle.”

“Hmm?”

“If I hadn’t boarded this train today, would the families of those people… the ones on this train, would they have survived?”

The dead weren’t NPCs sacrificed in a cutscene.

Probably, that’s how it would have been.

Ivan answered, looking at the dimly lit night sky.

“Do you know how many people the hero killed?”

“…What?”

“At least an estimated thirty thousand a year, including indirect casualties. The number of people who died, pushed into a losing battlefield to attract the attention of the Demon Army to support the hero’s operation.”

The hero’s party is fundamentally an assassination group. To kill the Seven Dragons and the Demon King.

So, the idea was to give them a distraction in a different direction to catch them off guard.

As a fundamental strategy in the art of war, there were times when defeat was deliberately enforced on another front to support the infiltration of the hero party.

“Everyone present at that moment knew that fact. The heroes, me, even the soldiers at the forefront.”

“…”

“But even then, the hero smiled.”

Otherwise, if one were to imagine their failure, lament their shortcomings.

If one were to be crushed by their burden.

If all the lives lost for their sake were in vain.

So, the hero chose to smile. Even in times when hope was as scarce as finding a star in the split sky.

Because he had to be a beacon of hope for everyone.

For when he crumbled, the united kingdom would fall.

“Look.”

Ivan raised his hand, pointing towards the sky.

In the east, the sun was rising, painting the sky in shades of blue.

In the west, the moon had already hidden its face. But even there, in the far distance.

Even in the brightest times, the star shone.

Just like it did in the darkest night.

“Ah…”

“That star, the burden your father carried in those days, is now the one you inherit. Being a hero doesn’t mean being the strongest.”

“The bravest…”

“Yes. We called those who never kneeled to any burden and never lost their smile in any moment heroes. So, now, you must become their hero.”

Looking at the survivors gathered in sorrow, Ivan gently pressed her head.

“Maximilian’s daughter, Isabelle. Lift your head and stand tall. The sorrowful receive sympathy, but admiration follows those who always smile. Embrace hope, rise, and live, remembering gratitude before guilt for someone’s sacrifice. Live, proving to everyone that their sacrifice was not in vain.”

Like the star. Always shining brightly even beside the largest moon.

Clearly radiating even by the rising sun.

As a symbol of hope, like that.

Isabelle stared blankly at Ivan, then suddenly snapped back to reality.

“Do you happen to have any thoughts about shaving that beard?”

“None.”

Ivan replied with disgust.

Ep5. Morning Star.