Chapter 36…
He opened his eyes.
He wanted to say that he saw an unfamiliar ceiling, but in truth, the first thing that entered Dante’s sight was Eina’s face.
Her face was drenched with tears, and it seemed she hadn’t left his side for even a moment.
“Master! You’re awake? Yes?”
Her fussing and shouting shook his head.
“…I’m fine.”
Instead of stopping her, Dante reached out and gently patted her head.
A headache like this was nothing.
Compared to the worry Eina must have felt waiting by his side until he regained consciousness, it was insignificant.
“Really? You’re not hurt anywhere?”
She didn’t dare touch him and fidgeted anxiously at his side.
Dante nodded and sat up.
The bed beneath him was far from comfortable.
“This isn’t Belladion.”
As soon as he realized that, he stared at Eina.
His eyes clearly asked: Why are you here instead of at Belladion Fortress?
Catching his gaze, she quickly looked away.
“Where am I?”
“This is Outpost 302.”
“I told you not to leave Belladion, didn’t I?”
“But…”
Eina hesitated, her face scrunching as if she were about to cry.
“When I heard you had collapsed, how could I just stay put? I know I disobeyed you, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just sit there.”
Her expression turned stubborn.
Dante sighed.
Just who had brought her here…?
He wanted to track them down and question them immediately, but there were more important matters first.
“We’ll talk about you later. For now, bring me Sir Milleon and Sir Elaine.”
“Ah, wait! They’ve both been waiting for you to wake up.”
Seizing the chance, Eina quickly darted out of the room.
“Haa…”
Did she even know how dangerous this place was?
For now, the attack had been fended off—but who knew how long that would last?
Outpost 302 could be wiped out any day, even today.
He had seen the arrival of the Magic Corps at the last moment, but that didn’t mean it was safe.
As Dante was thinking about how to send Eina back—
Knock knock.
A knock came at the door.
“Enter.”
At his permission, Eina returned, this time with Milleon and Elaine.
Judging by their haggard faces, they hadn’t slept much either.
“…How long was I unconscious?”
“Three days,” Milleon replied.
“You woke sooner than expected.”
“Lady Eina worried for you greatly.”
She wasn’t the only one who had stayed up nursing him.
The two knights hadn’t removed their armor nor slept since that brutal battlefield either.
Dante felt both gratitude and guilt, though he didn’t say it aloud.
There was no need for words anymore—they could read each other’s hearts.
“I want to know what happened after I passed out.”
“How much do you remember?”
“I killed Gorgos, then the Magic Corps appeared.”
Though in truth, his memories were hazy, like fragments of a dream.
But given that he was alive, it hadn’t been mere illusion.
“His Majesty the King of the Principality arrived with the Magic Corps. The first thing cast was La Solvante, a wide-range spell. Thanks to that, Acrassion managed to retreat safely.”
La Solvante.
That must have been the blazing sun he saw just before losing consciousness.
If such magic could be cast freely, the monster wave would have ended long ago.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t a spell that could be used lightly.
No doubt the Magic Corps would be unable to participate fully for a while.
“What about our casualties?”
“Twenty-one squads were annihilated, and ninety percent of Nightfall perished.”
“…Nightfall?”
They were one of the knight orders sent by the Empire.
Skilled, often working alongside Acrassion.
“Their commander?”
“Dead.”
Dante’s expression darkened.
He thought he had grown used to death, but the loss of allies still left a bitter taste.
“If only I’d been stronger…”
Maybe he could have prevented their deaths.
“That’s arrogance,” Milleon cut in.
“…What?”
His words struck Dante squarely in the chest.
“You did everything possible. You killed Gorgos and broke the monsters’ momentum. That alone saved thousands of lives.”
Unlike his usual calmness, Milleon’s tone was sharp.
“What more could you expect to do?”
It was enough.
“You cannot save everyone. To blame yourself for failing to do so is arrogance and overconfidence.”
“…Is that so?”
The words of his young teacher.
Dante took in every word, carving them into his heart.
He’s not wrong.
He had told himself not to grow impatient, yet he had fallen into that very mindset.
Too much death, too many sacrifices—yet even after decades as a mercenary and facing death himself, the pain never dulled.
But he could not let it consume him.
As Milleon said—
That is arrogance.
Dante closed his eyes and drew a slow breath.
Though rebuked, he felt strangely lighter.
“Thank you.”
Opening his eyes, he offered Milleon his gratitude.
“I only spoke what I felt.”
“And I’m grateful for it.”
A smile spread across Dante’s face as the burden weighing on his shoulders eased.
Eina, who had been holding her breath in worry, let out a sigh of relief.
“So the battle is over, then?”
“Yes. After you felled Gorgos, the Magic Corps’ intervention shattered their forces.”
The routed monsters fled in panic.
“Few will have survived. His Majesty himself led the knight orders to finish off the remnants.”
“His Majesty?”
“He saw you collapse with his own eyes. I’ve never seen such a terrifying expression on him.”
Even the usually quiet Elaine added to the explanation.
“Hmm.”
Embarrassed, Dante cleared his throat and shifted the subject.
“Which knight orders accompanied him?”
“Windgale and Palantium.”
Windgale was obvious—they were Isabella’s direct order, famed as the fastest in the Principality.
But Palantium as well?
They were formidable.
Every knight in that order, including their commander Aizen, had awakened their Traits.
If they’ve been deployed, the remnants will surely be annihilated.
Unless hordes of Behemoths appeared, they would face no danger.
Still, Dante couldn’t relax completely.
This large-scale invasion wasn’t the end—it was the beginning.
Stronger waves would come, ones even Isabella’s strength might not withstand.
To stop that, I must recover first.
His body had no strength.
To fix that—
“I need to get up.”
“You must rest longer,” Milleon protested as Dante tried to leave the bed.
“Your mana is completely drained. Though some has returned, you must stay calm.”
“I’m fine.”
Dante shook his head.
It was true his mana was absurdly low—mana exhaustion, practically.
But he couldn’t just stay in bed.
It wasn’t mere stubbornness.
Simply—
“Moving will help me recover faster.”
Had he been injured, he would have followed Milleon’s advice and rested. But this was only fatigue.
In such cases, he knew a far faster way to recover.
A martial art he had learned in Littergut and refined himself.
With it, he could shake off this exhaustion within a day.
The two knights and the maid could not dissuade him.
“Just don’t overdo it,” Eina begged.
“You’d do better worrying about something else,” Dante replied firmly.
Eina’s face fell, realizing the punishment awaiting her for sneaking here without permission.
Seeing her expression, Dante put on a stern look and walked out.
Heavy.
Every step felt unbearably heavy.
The weight of the dead… truly is heavy.
Hundreds, thousands of lives had bled into this soil.
With each step, Dante felt the responsibility grow.
One step, then another.
As if carrying a massive burden.
Though Milleon’s words had shaken him free from arrogance, countless weights still clung to his ankles.
Still, I walk.
A firm resolve burned within him.
Though crushing, though suffocating—he did not stop.
Out of the room, through the corridors, until he reached the training grounds.
The cold dawn air brushed his cheeks.
The empty arena was silent.
His muscles screamed in agony, yet Dante stepped to the center and assumed a stance.
His limbs wouldn’t move as he wished.
His mana was depleted, his body far from normal.
But he didn’t stop.
Sweat dripped heavily to the ground.
With every repetition, he felt his mana return, if only slightly.
One hour, then two, then three.
The morning sun rose, its light shining on Dante.
At the same time, countless eyes gathered.
Knights and soldiers roused from sleep.
Their eyes all fixed on Dante’s ceaseless movements.
No—perhaps they weren’t looking at him, but at something more.
At hope.
Hope that he would end this war, and bring peace to the Principality.
