When I arrived at the frontlines, the first thing that struck me was the suffocating tension.
The oppressive silence of the borderlands couldn’t compare to the taut air that wrapped around my entire body.
It felt as if even the air itself pierced my skin like a cold dagger.
Even the sound of the wind brushing past my ears felt sharp.
Everything here was different from the borderlands.
Both the Demon King’s forces and the Kingdom’s soldiers were nothing like the green recruits I’d seen at the border.
Their eyes held a razor-sharp determination, a gleam born only from crossing countless life-and-death thresholds, a sheen like a blade worn down from endless use.
Here, human life felt like nothing more than a trembling blade of grass.
It would soon fall, scatter in the wind, and ultimately vanish like something ephemeral.
“Charge.”
As the softly spoken command dispersed into the wind, a heavy roar shook the battlefield.
The knights roared like wild beasts as they charged toward the demons.
The dull clanging of metal as armor collided, the sharp clash of blades,
the screams of the demons, the earth-shaking sound of hooves…
Everything mixed together, and the battlefield instantly became a whirlpool of chaos.
Within the chaos, a glimmer of hope emerged.
The eyes of the Kingdom’s soldiers changed the moment they spotted the rose-patterned banner I carried.
A glimmer of awe began to replace the despair in their gazes.
“His Grace, Duke Peridot, has arrived!”
The soldiers’ cries filled the battlefield like light streaming through the cracks in a crumbling wall.
The knights I had gathered were chosen solely for their skills, not a single one among them was ordinary.
They wielded their weapons and danced across the battlefield, moving as freely as the wind and as sharply as a shiver down the spine.
Five, ten, twenty demons fell in an instant.
The knights’ remarkable prowess visibly shifted the tide of the battle.
The battlefield, once steeped in despair, began to radiate the aura of victory.
And finally, the sound of a horn signaling triumph echoed across the battlefield.
The demons scattered, retreating like the ebbing tide.
The cheers of the Kingdom’s soldiers pierced the sky, a blend of joy and relief in their voices.
As the intense heat of battle gradually subsided, the battlefield slowly began to reclaim its calm.
I started walking toward the command tent.
To advance toward the Demon King’s castle, I needed a clearer grasp of the situation in this region.
As I headed toward the tent, the soldiers saluted me in unison.
It was something I could never have imagined during the days when I was called a bastard.
Inside the tent, I saw a familiar face.
The Hero was there.
Beside him stood a female mage clad in a blue robe.
When the Hero saw me, his eyes widened before a soft smile spread across his face.
But behind that smile lay a shadow of some sort, a complex mixture of gratitude and worry.
“Your Grace, thank you for coming.”
I slowly studied the Hero.
I could feel the journey he had endured in an instant.
His armor bore countless marks of battle, and the faint traces of exhaustion from prolonged fighting were evident.
Though still sharp and strong, his blade seemed worn in some way.
“No, we need to sever the Demon King’s head as soon as possible.”
At my firm words, the Hero’s eyes widened, and his gaze trembled with surprise.
He stared at me for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, then cautiously opened his mouth.
“Your Grace… you’ve changed a lot.”
His voice was filled with astonishment and confusion.
I could understand.
If it were the old me, I wouldn’t have even considered the thought of fighting the Demon King.
I shifted my gaze to the mage standing beside the Hero.
On her finger was a silver ring with the same design as the Hero’s.
The subtle atmosphere between the two of them, and the warm looks they exchanged,
made it clear what their relationship was, even without asking.
“…Congratulations on your engagement.”
When I offered a formal congratulation, the Hero blushed awkwardly and gave a sheepish smile.
The female mage standing next to him shyly smiled and bowed her head slightly.
Watching them, a strange feeling suddenly swept through my chest.
A ring.
A symbol of love and a promise of eternity—an item any ordinary couple might exchange.
Yet, for her, I felt something else would suit her far better than a ring.
I slowly raised my hand and brushed the back of my neck.
Under my fingertips was the soft texture of a leather collar.
How beautiful would it be if a red collar adorned her pale, alabaster-like neck?
The mere thought of it brought a faint smile to my lips.
After indulging in my thoughts briefly, I reminded myself that there wasn’t much time left
and returned to reality, bidding the Hero farewell.
As I approached the entrance to the command tent, the familiar scene unfolded as expected.
Knights adorned with rose-patterned banners were holding a drinking party.
The clinking of glasses, loud cheers, and laughter mingled together, momentarily helping them forget the exhaustion of the night after the battle.
Some were already stumbling, their faces flushed red from the drink.
“Ah, you’re here, Captain!”
One of the knights called out casually upon spotting me.
The other knights all turned their heads to look at me.
I didn’t place much importance on formal titles or etiquette.
They didn’t see me as an object of loyalty, either.
We simply exchanged what we each desired—
money, alcohol, spoils of war, and endless battles.
That was all they wanted.
“Enjoy your drinking, but don’t overdo it. We’ll be departing again tomorrow.”
With a light warning, I headed toward my tent.
As the rowdiness of the drinking party faded into the distance, silence once again enveloped me.
When I stepped inside the tent, darkness and stillness greeted me.
Without hesitation, I lay down on the bed.
It was a night where faint moonlight streamed onto the tent.
“Wake up, Peridot.”
Lilian’s voice roused me in the morning.
I barely lifted my heavy eyelids.
My body still felt weighed down, and my mind was foggy.
Though I hadn’t dreamed through the night, I somehow felt even more exhausted because of it.
Stretching lightly, I reached for the teacup on the table.
The warmth spread through my palm.
I took a sip of the tea.
As expected, I tasted nothing.
It was no different from plain water—an insipid, flavorless liquid.
But the warmth faintly reminded me of distant, cherished memories.
“I put ten spoonfuls of sugar in there, and you still can’t taste anything?”
Lilian’s blue eyes gazed at me, her tone dry and emotionless.
“No. It seems my sense of taste has dulled even further recently,”
I replied calmly.
At some point, my sense of taste had begun to fade, and now it felt like I’d lost it entirely.
Hoping to revive even a fragment of the sweet taste of Flora’s tea, I had asked Lilian to pile on the sugar.
But it was pointless.
Once something is broken, no amount of effort can restore it.
That truth sank in once more, sharp and bitter.
Slowly, I got up and prepared to step outside.
I draped a cloak over my shoulders, strapped a dagger to my waist, and gripped my familiar staff in my hand.
As I stepped out of the tent, brilliant sunlight poured down.
The knights were already packed and waiting for me.
The sound of heavy armor clanking, the neighing of horses, and the bustle of voices surrounded me.
I silently observed them for a moment, then gave a short command.
“Let’s move.”
There was no need for excess words.
Leaning on my staff, I pointed toward the forest and began walking slowly.
The knights followed behind me in silence, the sound of heavy armor reverberating through the forest.
Our destination was the Kingdom’s outpost closest to the Demon King’s castle.
There, we planned to regroup and prepare for the final march toward the Demon King.
The forest path appeared peaceful at first glance.
The sunlight filtered gently through the leaves, warm and comforting.
The birdsong seemed soothing, and the wind swayed the branches softly, spreading a serene energy.
But all of it only weighed heavier on my heart.
Over the past month, I had learned just how fragile such tranquility could be.
Everyone instinctively knew that this forest path could be stained crimson with blood at any moment.
One of the knights spoke up.
“Feels peaceful. Ever since I started following you, it’s always been life-or-death battlefields.”
His tone was relaxed.
Under the drowsy sunlight, his voice carried a sense of relief, as though the tension had finally eased.
For that brief moment, he seemed free from the terrors of war.
But the knight beside him suddenly raised his hand and smacked the back of his head with a loud thud.
“Hey! What the hell are you saying?!”
The knight who had spoken let out a surprised grunt, rubbing the back of his head with one hand as he turned around,
a sour expression on his face.
The one who struck him glared with a hardened expression.
“Don’t say stuff like that—it’s bad luck. Don’t you know?”
His tense voice carried traces of anger and suppressed fear, as if he were desperately trying to ward off an ominous premonition.
“Yeah, I know… I just said it ‘cause it’s so quiet, that’s all,”
the first knight replied sheepishly, laughing awkwardly.
But his smile was slightly strained, a hint of unease hiding beneath his playful tone.
I ignored their conversation, silently walking along the forest path.
The sunlight breaking through the leaves was still beautiful, and the soft dirt underfoot felt peaceful.
Yet the strange tension lingering in the air refused to dissipate.
A tranquil forest path, yet simmering unease beneath the surface.
Knights are briefly distracted by ominous jokes and petty squabbles.
And us, steadily advancing toward the Demon King’s castle.
It was a morning where everything felt subtly out of place.