Awakening the Great Bloodline

Chapter 105: Your Decision, My Choice

The chaos did not settle easily. That was no surprise. It was essential to clearly determine whether the unidentified group was friend or foe.

Above all, it was not only soldiers who had arrived — refugees had flooded in as well. No one asked where they had come from. They were people who did not know where they needed to go.

Countless footsteps had followed in the wake of stories the Western noble soldiers had let slip like boasts.

'You're heading north? Isn't that place crawling with Imperial scum?'

'Look at this ignorant fool. What era are you living in? The Mountain Rabbits have returned!'

'……!'

Those words alone were enough.

An era in which even the word ‘hope’ felt like a luxury. They had been pushed northwest, fleeing the disaster encroaching from the east.

But reality was merciless.

"Stand back from the palisade!"

"Do not approach!"

Neither Kalahim's cavalry nor Viale's soldiers welcomed them. Supplies were not critically lacking, but they were far from abundant. The elderly and children reached out their hands, yet no one could freely give to them.

It was then.

"Hey, come over here!"

"You've had quite a rough time of it."

"Where are you from? You came all the way here from the east? This one's got one hell of a stubborn will to live!"

The Mountain Rabbits' veteran members moved into action.

They guided the wanderers to the outer perimeter of the encampment. Strangely, they moved with practiced ease. Food was not sufficient, but there was no hesitation in the hands that distributed water and bandages.

There was commotion, but no chaos. Because they had been through it before, there was clear order even without preparation.

And through those gaps, information flowed.

There is no war where only soldiers move. Where people gather, merchants come, and with them, countless stories follow.

"Captain, it seems they really are from western Astria. It sounds like things over there are still intact."

"And the central region?"

"Apparently completely falling apart. They say the southern regions don't look good either. Apparently monsters struck the coastal villages like a tidal wave."

In the midst of receiving this new intelligence, commanding-level figures from the opposing side requested a meeting. Those who called themselves the Western Noble Alliance crossed over directly into the Alliance Forces' encampment.

Only then did the wariness of the Alliance Forces begin to ease.

***

The commanders of each force gathered beneath the tent. The hour when daylight had not yet fully broken. An oil lamp cast its soft glow.

Into that place entered the nobles who had just arrived from the west.

They were those who had been pushed to the outer edges of power. The longer the war with the Niboria Empire dragged on, the more they had remained crouched and still.

Yet for Calix, they were quite familiar faces.

"Royce, we meet again."

"Sir Estante, I trust you have been well."

The middle-aged knight exchanged a warm greeting with the leader of the Mountain Rabbits.

On his chest was emblazoned a silver warhorse and two crossed spears. It was Estante, the Knight Commander of House Hoover.

"Well was not the word for it. I simply survived — tenaciously."

"The Marquis is……"

"He remains at the main estate. He wishes to take to the battlefield this very moment, but circumstances do not permit it. His heir, Rafael, is in the same situation. And so I have come in his stead."

Despite it being a reunion after some time, one could easily sense they were close.

By contrast, the way he treated Calix was somewhat different.

No — it had changed far too greatly.

"Calix, have you been well?"

"Yes. It has been a while. Please speak comfortably with me."

The Knight Commander of House Hoover shook his head slowly.

"That I cannot do. Has not much changed since before?"

He smiled warmly.

"Ah, on a personal note, I do still feel a sense of regret. That I should have found some way to take you into my service back then."

At that, Royce — who had been standing nearby — furrowed his brow. He said nothing, but every meaning was contained in that subtle shift of expression.

One after another, smiles spread.

"Do not worry, Royce. It would hardly do to covet an old comrade's companion. It was merely a jest said in a spirit of fondness."

Yet this level of roguishness was nothing compared to Mozak. The Desert Frontier Count, the wily old viper, interjected into the conversation. For some reason, the old man appeared in the form of a young man.

"Calix. Oh, my friend Calix."

"……Lord Jursi."

Jursi Mozak.

The third son of Count Mozak still looked like someone without a care in the world. It seemed he had ultimately inherited his father's seat.

"I knew it would come to this. I'm not lying. Would I have grabbed onto your trouser leg for no reason?"

"Your father……"

"He went to sleep peacefully within the sandstorm. He left without regrets, even if not in peace. But what does that matter?"

In that instant, the gazes of the two young men met.

Calix knew he must not underestimate his counterpart. Beneath pale skin, sharp cheekbones, and dark lashes, brown eyes gleamed with quiet intensity.

'He has come because he needs something.'

He, too, was a child of the viper.

Even the affable greeting was calculated. This became evident without exception as the formal council proceedings began. As the de facto representative, Count Mozak opened his mouth.

"First, allow me to offer congratulations on your victory. Though we missed the opportunity to lend our hand, it was a triumph of truly great significance. Not only for us, but there were clear responses from Latia and Gardia as well."

The side with the greater need speaks, and the side holding the initiative listens.

He continued, his gaze sweeping across the commanders of Kalahim and Viale.

"Latia has completed preparations to transport troops via its inland ports, and Angel Gueria, the Master of Gardia, has also made his move, they say. Naturally, we too cannot turn our backs on that responsibility. We will add three thousand troops to the Alliance Forces and take responsibility for the supply lines on the Astria front."

Calix thought to himself.

‘A typical noble's manner of speaking.’

Smooth and pleasant to the ear, yet the uncomfortable truths were carefully concealed. The elven commander, Serylion Belrnar, drove sharply into that very point.

"Where did Master Angel Gueria head?"

"……To the southern front."

"He is one of the nine swords held by humanity. They are not ones to move easily. It seems Gardia's homeland has fallen into danger. Am I correct?"

"……That is correct."

The harsh truth came to light.

Even the mercenary kingdom of Gardia, located in the southeastern reaches of the Astria Kingdom, had fallen into crisis.

"But now that a Master has moved—"

"The Niboria Empire has two Masters."

At just the right moment, Barakh, the Kalahim commander, delivered those words in a heavy voice.

"And yet they continue to be pushed back day after day. Apparently they suffered a crushing defeat at the Marbius River not long ago. Everyone keeps it hushed, but I have heard that Master Sevi Belgrado sustained a grave injury."

"How could you possibly know that……"

"Does it matter how I know? The Niboria Empire cannot even hold its own homeland's defensive line — what matters is whether the Kingdom of Gardia can survive."

And so it was.

The Elvra Holy Empire stood on the verge of what was effectively its destruction, and the Niboria Empire had not managed to secure even a single victory. Having fought the Imperial forces directly, they could feel that sense of crisis against their very skin.

This was no longer the problem of any single nation.

The entire continent was crumbling.

And the royals of each nation had begun, belatedly, to set aside their political calculations. They were now moving by instinct alone — for justification, responsibility, and survival.

In a sense, this was good news for the Mountain Rabbits.

Yet the reason Royce and Calix furrowed their brows was precisely because an enormous crisis had drawn right up to their doorstep.

For a time, silence drifted through the air. Only the flame beneath the tent stirred. Not a single word was exchanged, yet every person gathered there shared the same thought.

That they had not yet faced the true enemy.

They all knew it — by instinct.

***

The council chamber was submerged in a silence cold as ice.

'Who will be the first to speak?'

The nobles leaned back in their chairs and quietly studied each other's faces. Count Mozak, Estante as the proxy for House Hoover, and the representatives of several other houses sat without a word.

They had gathered with differing desires, yet they were not foolish.

'If the central region is breached, my domain is next.'

'For now, it is right to honestly ask for help and to respond in kind.'

The Western nobles never opened their mouths to the very end. There was no posturing, no petty jockeying for position. They knew that after driving back the wicked things, everyone would scatter to find their own way — but for now, they understood they shared the same fate aboard the same vessel.

And so the answer had to come, without fail, from the Alliance Forces.

"A messenger from Astria!"

Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out outside.

The cries of sentinels, the sound of hoofbeats, a brief exchange of words — and then silence. Moments later, the tent flap was pulled aside and a man appeared, coated in blood-red dust.

Anyone could see he had ridden a long road, crossing through the very line between life and death. In his hands, he held a letter bearing the seal of the Astria Kingdom.

"Star Haven is in peril. Please……. Please, help us!"

The messenger reflexively moved toward Barakh, the Kalahim commander. In that single action, the hierarchy was instantly established.

The letter passed through several hands and finally came to rest before one young man.

Calix.

Tak.

He broke the wax seal and examined the contents within. On the exterior, the royal crest was engraved — yet the sender was someone else.

"To the Alliance Forces.The capital is surrounded. Request assistance as swiftly as possible.Astria's Duke, Roderick Saitz."

The message was no more than three lines.

Not a trace of emotion or desperation was contained anywhere within it.

He was not surprised.

After Calix read it aloud and raised his head, the messenger prostrated himself on the floor once more. A voice hoarse as though his throat were on fire rang out.

"Please……. Help us. Even at this very moment, countless cities are vanishing like smoke!"

The Alliance Forces' commanders exchanged looks of complex meaning. The one who had brought the letter appeared desperate, but within its very ink, arrogance and stubbornness spread like a stain.

Yet in truth, the reason they were reading each other's expressions was not because of that.

'Do we help, or do we turn away?'

The answer to this ultimate question had to be sought.

At this, the Alliance Forces' side was the first to act. Barakh of Kalahim and Serylion Belrnar of Viale silently cast their gazes.

The Western nobles reacted in turn, and the eyes of the assembled representatives fixed upon one person.

Everyone was looking at Calix.

'……The initiative of the Alliance has shifted over completely!'

'To think his influence had reached this degree.'

'My……'

Calix himself looked back at his captain's face, but Royce only met his gaze and shook his head. For now, it was enough simply to lift the young Mountain Rabbit up.

Calix quietly closed his eyes.

In the end, he was the only one who could make the decision.

Just then, Jursi Mozak let out a familiar cold laugh.

"To think the old serpent still clings to his pride. I myself believe there is no absolute need to help. The front lines are wide, and there are many places that need the Alliance Forces. Above anything else, did Sir Calix not suffer a grave humiliation because of Duke Saitz?"

He had not inserted himself to obstruct. He had offered the Mountain Rabbits a pretext for refusal. Royce caught on to this as well and willingly accepted it.

"There was such a time."

The reply was brief, yet within it, complex emotions seeped through. In kind, the days of the past swept through Calix's inner world.

Duke Saitz had driven a wedge between Count Mozak and Marquis Hoover, had distributed contaminated body enhancement agents, and had sacrificed countless lives.

But—

'That no longer matters.'

They were no longer the Mountain Rabbits of the past. Those who had once been desperate simply to escape now stood in a position to look down upon others.

'We are pushing forward to hold back the forces of evil. I must not forget that.'

And so it was.

No grudge, no matter how deep, lost its color before the tragedy of all.

'One who moves by hatred is, in the end, consumed by that very hatred.'

Calix slowly opened the eyes he had closed.

There was no need to remain bound to Duke Saitz. He would not become his adversary. Instead, he would regard him as nothing more than a stone in the road. In his younger days, he had stumbled over it — but now, he only needed to pass it by.

And so, casting emotion aside, he answered with reason.

"We march to Star Haven, the capital of Astria."

At the resolute declaration, a magnificent smile settled at the corners of Royce's lips.

It was the right answer.

Yet beyond that, not a single person opened their mouth. Each person's resolve and anxiety quietly overlapped within the silence.

***

The council concluded by midday. Calix stepped out of the tent after discussing the detailed march plan. Airien, Volga, Basim, and others were waiting.

It was around that time.

Sssssssss.

All of a sudden, from the far edge of the eastern sky, a profound energy surged upward. Calix was the first to sense the anomaly. Beyond the horizon, a pitch-black hue was erupting explosively upward. It swiftly covered the sun and spread darkness in all directions.

As day and night reversed in an instant, every person without exception turned to look in the same direction.

"What in the……"

The entire encampment froze in a single moment. Some gripped the flagpole and held on; others pressed themselves flat against the ground and could only swallow their breath.

In the midst of this, the Mountain Rabbits' veteran members bit their lips and endured in silence. The scale was different, but it was unmistakably the same as the 'anomalous phenomenon' they had experienced before.

Then, a beam of pure white light appeared, cutting through the dark clouds. At its center, a colossal bird woven from magical energy spread its wings wide.

Within the encampment, only the sound of swallowed saliva and expressions rigid with tension could be seen. Yet Calix instead felt a strangely familiar sensation.

His core was quietly displaying an inexplicable sense of recognition.

Fwarararak.

Soon, each individual feather radiated a soft glow and pushed back the darkness.

And shortly after—

A low voice resounded through the air.

[Fear not. Tomorrow has not yet been closed.]

The very next moment, an enormous mass of concentrated magical energy descended into the very center of the encampment.

Royce instinctively drew his sword, but Airien urgently seized his wrist. With a somehow dazed expression, she murmured.

"……The Wandering One, Kailo Felderwin."

The mage had arrived.