Chapter 18
"Corporal. Are you awake?"
Clearing the battlefield always took another full day.
Having spent the entire previous day disposing of corpses and shattered trenches with Glaepnir, Yaan opened his eyes, fatigue plain on his face.
The place where he sat up was the officers' quarters.
All the senior officers had left; only one remaining tent was now his alone.
"Yaan. Someone's calling you."
Hearing his name in a clear voice, Yaan turned to the side, puzzled.
She was seated neatly on a chair in front of the bed, hands folded.
It was Ren, who looked like a pure-white doll.
"...Why are you here?"
"Because you're here."
"I mean, why are you in my room when every other empty quarters is available?"
"Because you're here."
"...Whatever. Just gives me a headache."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Yaan rose.
On the small table beside the bed sat a rather tidy breakfast: proper bread and bacon, not cold combat rations, plus boiled eggs and coffee.
Such lavish treatment had been unimaginable in the Penal Corps.
"You didn't set this up, did you?"
"Would you like me to, starting tomorrow?"
"Don't. It creeps me out."
Saying so, Yaan called toward the entrance.
"I'm up. What is it?"
A voice from outside replied; Yaan answered, and the soldier waiting there responded.
"The Commander summons you. Please come to the office."
"Tell him I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Understood."
The soldier's bootsteps faded.
A summons from on high usually meant you ran even from your dreams, but no one complained, perhaps because of the exhaustion after battle.
Or maybe every officer who might complain was already a corpse.
Slurp-
Not touching the laid-out food, Yaan only sipped his coffee. Ren watched him quietly, then asked,
"Not eating?"
"We stuffed ourselves like crazy yesterday. You eat."
The Elf Kingdom's supply depot had held an absurd amount of provisions-enough to feed the surviving soldiers indefinitely.
Even though it was issued without limit, the piles showed no sign of shrinking, vividly demonstrating the difference between Imperial and Elf logistics.
"The goblins were all skin and bones, yet look how much food there is."
"Slaves don't get rations. This is for Orcs and Elves."
Ren tore off a piece of bread, stuffed it with mashed egg and bacon, and spoke while chewing.
"How do you know how they lived?"
"I lived among them-about two hundred years."
"...Just how old are you?"
"Secret."
She held out her hand; Yaan, still reluctant, passed her his cup.
Slurp-Ren drank his coffee.
"Tastes awful."
"You wouldn't say that if you drank what I usually drink."
"This is bad food. What you drank was garbage, or waste."
"Even if it's true, it still pisses me off."
Getting off the bed, Yaan touched his face, sensing something odd.
"...Is this the side effect Nill warned about?"
At that, Ren sprang up.
"Let me see."
She grabbed Yaan's hand and pulled him to the bed with surprising strength.
From where did such power come in that small body? She dragged the trained soldier as if it were nothing and began examining his face.
With Ren's face so close, Yaan awkwardly averted his eyes.
"Don't turn away. I can't see."
"What difference does seeing make..."
"Left eye. Close it."
Following her arbitrary order, Yaan closed one eye-and his expression changed.
His vision turned hazy, as if covered by a translucent film.
Nothing like this had happened when he boarded Glaepnir; what was going on?
"...Permanent loss of sight. Irreversible."
"For all the fuss you made before surgery, this side effect is minor. Wasn't it like this in the Frame?"
"No. While connected to the Frame, Glaepnir's parts replaced your organs."
"Then there's no problem."
Saying that, Yaan tried to get up.
But Ren's hand shot out and caught him.
"Operating at this level won't make it worse. But the higher your synchronization climbs, the more side effects you'll see."
"Such as?"
"Next the other eye, then an arm, then the entire lower body, then..."
"Enough. I get it."
Nothing comes free.
Blinking at his clouded right eye, Yaan recalled a phrase he had seen somewhere and rose.
Ren watched him for a moment.
This time she didn't stop him.
"We only moved that much in the last battle, so it's fine. That's enough."
Yaan walked to a mirror in a corner of the tent.
After wiping his battle-grimed face and cutting his tangled hair with a razor, a fairly neat young man appeared in the reflection.
His grim, shadowed face remained unchanged.
"Hair on the floor-unsanitary."
"There's plenty of spare tents-move if it bothers you."
With that, Yaan left the tent and headed for the commanders' tent where Cain waited.
As Cain had said, a few horses bearing the Empire's flags were tethered nearby.
"Hm?"
Something caught his eye; Yaan tilted his head.
A carriage adorned with brilliant golden patterns.
White horses, clearly strangers to dirt roads, stamped uneasily.
"I heard someone from headquarters was coming-someone different?"
Murmuring, Yaan walked toward Cain's office.
"Corporal Yaan Verkut reporting."
"Mm. Enter."
No guard even stood at the entrance. Hearing Cain's voice from inside, Yaan stepped in.
"Ho. So this is the one you mentioned...?"
The low voice was not Cain's.
Cain, who should have been seated behind the desk, was standing opposite it; Yaan turned his gaze there in puzzlement.
Golden eyes and dark-red hair.
The man facing him radiated confidence and pride-far removed from Cain's own grim bearing-and smiled at Yaan.
"Corporal Yaan. Salute-this is..."
"No, let me introduce myself."
Cutting Cain off, the man rose from his seat.
A simple, light uniform and a coat draped over his shoulder.
The moment Yaan saw the seal on his shoulder he dropped to one knee before him.
The emblem of a two-headed eagle clutching a sword.
The crest that symbolized the imperial bloodline of the Empire.
"From today I take command of this front-thirteenth prince of the Vailsar Empire, Klaus van Vailsar."
'A prince? What is imperial blood doing on a frontier like this...?'
Flawless skin and clothes of the highest quality.
No matter how he looked, it was impossible to call it a battle commander's attire.
"It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I am Corporal Yaan Verkut."
"Mm. Rise, Corporal."
At his leave Yaan stood up.
Prince Klaus ran his gaze up and down, then brushed Yaan's shoulder and grinned.
"I heard you were in the Penal Corps, yet I see no brand?"
"...The Commander was kind enough to make an exception."
"If word spread that an ancient colossus chose a Penal soldier with no mana, the Populist faction would have a field day. Well done."
The Ancients.
According to the teachings of the Creator Church, spread across the world, the word referred to those who had created every living thing on this land.
To use their legacy meant, in other words, that your race was judged worthy to live on the world the Creator had made.
Humans, elves, and orcs who could handle colossi, and the wandering tribes who searched for the Creator's legacy, had earned that right.
Other races lacked either the intellect or the mana to operate colossi.
Goblins, kobolds, imps, halflings-and the countless other demi-human species that lived, or had once lived, in the wilds.
They were slaughtered, exterminated, traded, and domesticated by the more gifted races.
In this world, birthright and destiny were decided by the presence or absence of mana.
The Vailsar Empire Yaan served, indeed the whole world, turned upon this hierarchy.
"But that isn't the problem."
So saying, the prince stepped closer to Yaan.
"The Wall of Light that turned the Janskarian border into an impregnable fortress, the Holy Spear venerated as the Church's relic, the skyborne battleship Baldur floating above the elven kingdom of Alfraia... every one of them is an Ancient legacy built with technology far beyond our comprehension."
"...."
A history lecture from the prince-completely out of the blue.
Unable to guess what it was all about, Yaan simply listened in silence.
"And the colossus you pilot, unearthed this time-among Ancient legacies it is one of the exceedingly rare specimens preserved intact."
'Except for the part where it devours its pilot.'
That was what Yaan thought, but he kept it to himself.
"Can you guess why I dispatched Cain to this front, and why the elven forces received massive reinforcements at the same time?"
"We were told that a large colossus burial site had been discovered."
"Right. But there is another reason."
Prince Klaus's eyes gleamed.
Seeing Yaan still motionless, his smile deepened.
"I have heard about the colossus you pilot-remarkable performance."
"Thank you."
The praise was for Glaepnir, not for Yaan himself, but he answered as usual.
"Yet no matter how excellent, a colossus is still a colossus. It cannot reverse a war in an instant or wield absolute authority like other Creator relics. Dispatching the Empire's finest knight to the frontier for that alone? The numbers don't add up."
It was a fair point.
Even if Glaepnir entered the battlefield in its current state, a well-prepared colossus formation could bring it down without much trouble.
Using this entire front as bait just to send the Empire's strongest knight for a single Frame was not a decision made by common sense.
"But what if the other ruins nearby were different?"
With that prelude the prince continued.
"If a colossus site-where most components besides the frame would normally corrode-has remained this intact, then other sections may hold relics as tremendous as those the Ancients possessed. That is my judgment."
Glaepnir's excavation was merely a signal.
The real prize might be slumbering somewhere on this front, inside a vast Ancient ruin. At those words from Klaus, the familiar voice of a snow-white girl flickered across Yaan's mind.
'I'm the Key. A Key wandering in search of its master.'
'This child is the Test. It will judge whether you, as the holder of the Key, are a worthy human.'
No way.
Couldn't be.
Yet the more he tried to dismiss it, the more uneasy he felt; too many details refused to add up.
'I'll have to talk to Ren.'
While Yaan was lost in thought, Prince Klaus went on. He showed no sign of fatigue from his long journey; every inch of him brimmed with energy.
"As a member of the Imperial House I oversee every enterprise involving the excavation, exploration, and acquisition of Ancient technology. My appointment as commander of this front is likewise for that reason."
"Then the personnel remaining here..."
It was Cain who answered Yaan's question.
"His Highness's personal excavation team will arrive shortly. From this moment the rear garrison is reorganized as Prince Klaus's personal guard and will escort the team."
A unit under the direct command of the prince.
If the prince himself was to lead such a large-scale excavation, the support provided would dwarf anything seen before.
Moreover, thanks to the victory in the last battle, a major elven offensive was unlikely for some time.
A safer mission than ever before and superb resupply-truly the best news for those who had suffered on the front for so long.
"...."
Yet Yaan's expression on hearing the news was far from pleased.
Something felt off.
Even if news of victory reached the capital instantly via mana transmission, it would still take over a week to travel from the capital to this remote frontier.
Yet the prince had arrived only a day after the last battle ended, and the arrangements had flowed as smoothly as water, without even a single day's gap.
It felt staged rather than natural.
As though the entire front were being manipulated by someone.
'There's another motive.'
Reaching that conclusion, Yaan looked again at Prince Klaus's face.
The prince regarded him with a knowing smile, as if he could see right through him.
Lowest in the line though he might be, he was still a legitimate heir to the throne.
"Your Highness. I have come as summoned."
A voice from beyond the tent pulled Yaan from his thoughts.
At the prince's prompt, as if he had been waiting, the curtain screening the commanders' tent was swept aside and a tall man entered.
"Ah, you have another guest. Since you have an eye for good company, I shall come back later-"
"No, it's fine. We'll be working together soon enough."
"Very well then."
With those words the man pushed back the hood that had hidden his face.
The instant Yaan saw his face, his hand moved toward the pistol in his holster-only to freeze at Prince Klaus's voice.
"Don't draw, Corporal Yaan."
At first glance the face beneath the hood could have belonged to a man or a woman. But that was not why Yaan had reacted.
Locks of hair the color of fresh leaves, and ears tapering to fine points.
"An elf... no, a half-elf."
"Most people just take me for an elf; you have a sharp eye."
With a pleasant smile the elf stepped closer.
At the prince's order Yaan let go of his pistol.
The elf bowed politely and spoke.
"Pleased to meet you. I am Laeli, broker for the local tribes."