Chapter 133 : Request
Request
"Please."
Looking at the battalion commander's expression,
I found myself unable to say a single word.
"Now, Granfen... doesn't need me... any lon... khak!"
The old martial artist's face looked so relieved.
This was the last look of someone who had finally laid down a heavy burden.
'He made this choice because we won the war, damn it.'
The battalion commander wanted to sacrifice himself to save Hank.
But I had stopped him.
I had insisted that, for Granfen's victory, the battalion commander was needed, not Hank.
He had accepted that argument,
but now, with the war ending in victory, he was making this choice.
Splash. Squish!
As blood poured out, the battalion commander's complexion turned rapidly pale.
I instinctively reached out to stop the bleeding, but halted midway.
'It's meaningless.'
The battalion commander was going to die anyway.
At most, he had a few minutes left, or as little as several seconds.
Sure enough, the battalion commander's eyes rolled back, and I heard the rattling sound of his last breaths.
A trembling voice escaped my lips.
"If Hank doesn't regain consciousness, if he can't equip the OOPArts, then what's even the point of the OOPArts or anything!!"
Anger, emptiness, and frustration.
Amidst these tangled feelings, I heard the battalion commander's voice.
"Hank isn't weak like I am. He takes after his mother."
Hurriedly, I looked up at the battalion commander.
"I'm sure he'll wake up. Even if it's just for a moment. He might be a handful when he goes wild sometimes, but he's a tough kid."
The old man, barely clinging to consciousness, beamed brightly.
With a mouthful of blood.
So I tried to tell the old man the truths I knew before he died.
That it may not have been his fault Schutmann and White Fang rampaged.
"Battalion commander! Actually—!"
But I couldn't bring myself to finish.
Wasn't this old man someone who had barely managed to put down his burden?
A sudden thought struck me that I shouldn't make his final journey heavier.
"Please, protect Granfen."
I bit down and nodded.
"As I thought... that day... letting you... live was the right choi—."
With those words, the battalion commander closed his eyes,
and a shimmering light rose from the old man's body.
The battalion commander was dead.
I hugged the vanishing body,
but when I regained my senses, only the leather armor the old man had worn remained in my arms.
*
Strangely, no tears came.
Maybe I had become used to death and loss,
but instead, I was busy replaying my conversation with the battalion commander and his final words.
Deciding how to handle what I had witnessed and the situation I now faced was my top priority.
This was the biggest change in my environment right now.
'The battalion commander was dead.'
Up until now, he had always had my back,
and above all, had always led the unit with sound judgment.
Such an outstanding commander was gone.
Now, the burden of making decisions naturally fell on me, Lantz, and Legion.
'Whether Hank will survive... is still up in the air.'
I still didn't get why the battalion commander had to die for such a bastard,
and I was annoyed, knowing it meant more hardship for me.
Sure, blaming that guy wouldn't make anything better.
So I forced myself to calm down and started thinking at full speed.
Let's tackle the biggest question first.
'Why me?'
Why did he choose to reveal the truth about himself and Hank only to me
and make this decision in front of me?
It couldn't be because he distrusted Lantz and Legion.
Both of them, even by modern standards, were commanders with integrity and intelligence.
If that's the case...
"Ugh."
A groan slipped out of my mouth.
The battalion commander's final request to me was,
'He asked me to protect Granfen.'
Wasn't that basically naming me his successor?
All I ever wanted was to run an inn that also served soup rice in Granfen,
then someday start a franchise across the whole continent.
I had struggled to survive just to achieve that dream, so how did it come to this?
But the biggest problem now
was that I was the only one who knew the old man had designated me the next battalion commander.
Hmm. Would Lantz and Legion even accept this?
"... If it were Hank, maybe not, but those two might."
I glanced at the navy blue daisy bud in my hand,
the OOPArts 'Phantom Crest', and kept turning things over in my head.
'Right. First, I need to win over Lantz and Legion.'
Only by having support could I become a true leader.
First, I needed to come clean to them about what I had heard from the battalion commander.
If I told them that the battalion commander was actually the Sovereign's half-brother and got attacked by White Fang because he didn't keep the survival condition,
they'd have no choice but to understand this whole disaster.
'As for the part about me being an outsider from Earth, I'll play it by ear.'
People here already had enough hatred for outsiders to boil over.
It was too soon to reveal that dreadful truth.
Also, sorry to Hank but,
'It's better to give the Phantom Crest to Lantz.'
The battalion commander had held onto the slim chance and wanted to give the OOPArts to Hank,
but even if Hank miraculously survived, I still didn't want him to have it.
Never mind his combat ability—the guy had major defects in both personality and character as a commander.
Instead, making Lantz stronger would help both me and Granfen survive.
'Alright. Let's do that.'
With that decision made, I jumped out of the chair to go see the two commanders.
At that moment,
'Damn it.'
There was a faint ripple from Hank's mana hall.
I was so startled that I stopped in my tracks and just stared at Hank.
"!!"
The small ripple grew larger, steadily returning to normal.
He hadn't regained full consciousness yet,
but it looked like he was coming back.
Why did it always seem like an emergency hit right when I was about to do something else?
'I can't just ignore this now, damn.'
I still hated this bastard Hank,
but the battalion commander's last wish weighed on my mind, so I called his name.
"Hank! Are you awake?!"
Slap, slap.
As I slapped his cheek, some of my stress melted away,
and Hank's mana hall reacted even more violently.
He seemed to be regaining consciousness.
"Damn. The way he clings to life is downright filthy."
Hank's tightly shut eyelids quivered.
Deciding to go call for a supplier who knew healing techniques, I was just about to get up—
Snap!
Someone grabbed my wrist.
I slowly turned my head to see who it was.
"......."
Sharp, slitted, green eyes gleamed at me.
It was a grip so strong that it was hard to believe this was someone pronounced dead,
and though Hank couldn't move his head, just his eyes darted around, he took in his surroundings, and—
"Khak, khak!"
With a cough, he spewed a mouthful of blood and drew short, harsh breaths.
"Huff, huff."
Hank asked me something, though I feigned nonchalance out of inward surprise.
"Schut...mann?"
From his look, he was curious how long he had been out and how the battle had ended.
Not sure whether the quartermaster had been a quack or if Hank had survived by sheer miracle,
it didn't take me long to realize the truth of the situation.
'A deathbed rally.'
He'd regained his energy just before dying—a brief, final spark.
I could tell, having seen so much death before.
Sure enough, Hank's breathing weakened, and his gaze began to dim.
"Fa... or, the battalion commander...?"
He changed his question.
Apparently, seeing me unscathed, he assumed Schutmann had been taken care of.
"Where is the battalion commander—khak!!"
Unfortunately, Hank's voice lacked strength.
Someone dying can't be expected to make a racket.
But,
'Damn.'
It hit me louder than any shout.
And honestly,
I felt, against my will, jealous of him and the battalion commander.
'A father who chose death for his son, and a son who still calls for his father with his last breath.'
Without realizing it, a bitter smile crept onto my face.
But Hank seemed to take it differently,
and a solitary tear slipped from his now lifeless eyes.
"... Haha."
It was then.
From that vacant gaze and hollow laugh,
the battalion commander's face briefly overlapped his.
― Please.
Turns out, I was a real softie.
Rationally, I should have ignored Hank and gone to Lantz and Legion,
but my emotions wouldn't let me.
"... Alright. Let's see how far you can go."
With those words, I pulled the blanket off him,
placed the navy blue daisy, phantom Crest, on Hank's abdomen, and said,
"You know you're dying right now, so shut up and do as I say."
Hank flinched and opened his mouth, but
soon kept it shut.
"If you close your eyes now, Company Commander Hank, there is no tomorrow for you. Pour out every last drop of your mana and connect with this flower."
Recognizing my intent, Hank's eyebrows drew together,
but I continued, even firmer.
"If you can't do it, your father truly died a pointless death. So focus and make this work."
My voice grew louder without me realizing it,
and in response, Hank squeezed mana from his mana hall.
Creeping, creeping.
Mana crawled out from Hank's mana hall, traveled across his body, and touched the OOPArts.
As if reacting, the OOPArts floated into the air.
"Gnnnnn."
Blood trickled from Hank's bitten lower lip.
His face radiated utter desperation beyond just earnestness.
For a moment, he and I overlapped.
When I, too, had sworn to do anything to survive.
'Damn.'
I never imagined a day would come where I'd empathize with Hank and actually root for him.
But unfortunately, he still couldn't equip the OOPArts.
As the flower floated, the gap between it and his body widened, weakening the connection.
I shouted at Hank.
"Focus!!"
But the OOPArts just quivered in the air,
refusing to be absorbed.
There just wasn't enough mana.
With the Fragment of the Firmament in my eye, I could see it exactly.
'As expected, it's impossible in a body on the brink of death.'
Regretfully, I was about to give up when suddenly this idea struck me:
'Could I supply him with the missing mana?'
In Belkhazium, things like this happened.
For a level 5 large-scale spell, sometimes three circle 4 mages were needed.
They'd each supply mana at the same time to cast a single spell.
Of course, that was just a game mechanic and a numbers thing.
So I had no idea if my theory would work in reality,
but my body was already placing a hand on Hank's shoulder by instinct.
"Whatever—it's do or die now."
Hank, focused as he was, made no response to my touch, just kept moaning.
Suddenly finding myself ridiculous, I added,
"Don't go getting possessed or anything."
Cracking a lame joke, I began channeling mana into Hank's body.
'!!'
I felt a huge amount of mana drain from my body.
Not that Hank was sucking it out—
it was just my lack of control and the burden of trying something new.
Sweat burst out of me.
'So inefficient.'
Still, thanks to the Fragment of the Firmament, my mana recovered fast, so I could hold out for a bit.
Sure enough,
'It's working.'
The OOPArts floated nicely before beginning to connect with Hank.
Soon, the flower smoothly merged into his body,
and Hank chanted what could have been his last words.
"Phantom Crest."