Awakening the Great Bloodline

Chapter 120 — Straight Line

Calix surveys the plain below. Countless suits of steel armor glint in the sunlight. As hoofbeats churn up clouds of dust, banners bearing the emblems of Kalahim and Viale ripple like waves.

"The time has come."

He turns at the deep voice, catching Royce's profile beside him.

"The full force has finally assembled. I suppose it's time to depart."

"……Yes."

The main body of the Alliance Forces, numbering twenty thousand, closes the distance swiftly. Two men stand at its vanguard. The surrounding soldiers murmured, drawing hushed breaths.

"That man…… the one and only Yoman."

"That's right. The great chief who unified Kalahim."

"The Desert King!"

Indeed, the middle-aged man possessed a force that drew every eye toward him. An overwhelming physique, an exotic leather armor, adorned above with fittings of gold and jade. Dark skin bearing tattoos — yet it was his piercing gaze that left the deeper impression.

The man standing beside him, by contrast, was a familiar face. Luen Silius, chieftain of Viale, approached astride his horse without a saddle.

But admiration was for the soldiers to indulge. The captain of the Mountain Rabbits was expected to see the larger picture.

"Calix, the vanguard is effectively dissolved from this point. Barakh will return to the great chief, and Serylion Belrnar will do the same. What remains directly under us amounts to exactly one thousand cavalry."

"Yes, I had the same thought."

"Hmm, of course we also have the fifteen thousand mercenaries…… But that's actually a problem in itself."

Calix meets his gaze. Within those deeply sunken eyes, there was no rebuke, no urging — only a calm, patient waiting.

‘What comes next?’

By not asking, he asked.

After a moment of silence, the young man offered a careful answer.

"Mercenaries are difficult to control. They are not people who move on principle alone. We'll need to approach them differently from the Mountain Rabbits. Supply lines will also be an issue. If we remain within the Alliance Forces, we'll need to rely on Viale and Kalahim's support. That would give us some voice, but there will be clear limits."

"And yet moving independently carries great risk as well. Nobles don't cling to their domains for nothing. Beyond food procurement, we need a place to replenish military supplies. That is very nearly everything in war."

Royce was right.

It was part of why Calix couldn't simply rejoice at the mercenaries joining them. He had been granted authority to lead an organization of fifteen thousand — but taking responsibility for them was another matter entirely.

At that moment, the dwarf Basim added his own words.

"Heed the captain's advice. A warrior can fight on an empty stomach for a day or two, but without proper weapons, victory is impossible. Numbers aren't everything. If there's no particular answer, it might be better to send some back."

"I'll keep that in mind."

And yet the need for those 'numbers' was equally real. Because the destination of the Mountain Rabbits had been decided.

Calix turns his head northward, toward the mountain range. Royce, Vice-captain Marik, and Basim alike — none of them added another word.

They had always chosen the harder road. And at its end, they had claimed outcomes unlike anyone else. This time would be no different.

***

The dynamics of power apply to all living beings — elves and dwarves, and humans alike. Though each differed in race, only those with the proper standing had gathered here.

The Great Chief of Kalahim brought twelve thousand elite soldiers; Viale added eight thousand infantry; and the western nobles of Astria squeezed what human resources remained to fill six thousand more.

And holding one of those pillars were Calix and the Mountain Rabbits.

"Welcome. At last, the heroes of the continent have gathered in one place."

The meeting opened with brief words of greeting.

What followed, however, was very different from what the Mountain Rabbits had anticipated. Rather than contesting dominance over the Alliance Forces, they addressed only the essential matters.

Supply chains, troop deployment, basic agreements on the chain of command, and so forth. They devoted themselves to acknowledging each other's differences and devising the most efficient arrangements.

"I'm told Viale and Kalahim's supply routes have been secured. I hear the northwestern region of Astria has stabilized, and the existing resistance forces have signaled their willingness to cooperate."

"What do you intend to do about the interests in the southern territories?"

"Shouldn't those go to whoever earns the greatest merit in battle?"

"Mm, I agree. Let us hand it over to the Mountain Rabbits."

In that instant, Calix felt a surge of disbelief. Everything was flowing so smoothly that it set his nerves on edge.

Captain Royce, by contrast, gave a quiet nod of acceptance. Either way, the Mountain Rabbits' supply problem had been resolved naturally.

The worries of mere moments ago felt almost hollow now. But thinking it through calmly, the decision made perfect sense.

The lords of the alliance had gathered in one place. Because they held absolute authority, there was no reason whatsoever to engage in a contest of dominance.

"That settles the basics, then. Perhaps we may take a moment to become better acquainted."

More than that — Great Chief Yoman openly displayed his goodwill.

"Calix, I have heard your name countless times. It seems you charmed Barakh thoroughly. He's not a man who melts easily…… If this meeting hadn't been arranged, I'd have been enduring his chatter to this very moment."

The desert elders burst into laughter in unison. The elves and dwarves did not react, but the stiff atmosphere eased somewhat.

He continued shortly after.

"Kagracha, the Eagle That Devours Shadows. So many mercenaries rallied around your name alone. 'Zarim' also wished to meet you."

"You flatter me. But Zarim, you said……"

"Karp Zarim, the Sword of the Dunes. The master of Kalahim. Regrettably, he could not come with us. He has yet to consolidate his enlightenment. He asked for a few months — you should be able to meet him after that."

The corner of Calix's eye twitches slightly.

'Can a master refuse even the great chief's orders?'

His counterpart read the question at once and answered with a smile.

"A master is not, by nature, one who is swayed by another's will. If the legion commander had grown that strong, he declared that he himself also needed tempering, and shut himself away. I've been with him since childhood, as close as brothers…… hmm, perhaps that was the problem?"

"Ha ha ha! One and only Yoman, that does seem to have been the problem! You're only brothers if you quarrel every other day!"

"Zahiz, thanks to you I've gained some enlightenment myself, it seems."

Before long, Great Chief Yoman commands the room.

He spoke of a remarkable encounter with the wandering mage, Kailo Felderwin, and praised the contributions of the Viale vanguard, including Serylion Belrnar.

He also addressed each of the tribal heirs who had joined the Mountain Rabbits in turn, encouraging their bravery, and singled out Volga as an example when he remarked that the age called for young heroes. For all anyone knew, had the man himself been present at the meeting, he would have been overjoyed beyond words.

Through all of this, Calix came to understand how Yoman had risen to the seat of great chief. Human charisma flowed from him in every direction.

Yet in the end, his gaze returned to where it always did.

"So then, Calix — what comes next?"

He looks directly at the young man who had summoned the rulers of nations, and asks. Dozens of eyes immediately followed, pressing against his face.

Immediately after, Yoman lowered the mood with his resonant voice, as if playing an instrument.

"Despite the miraculous victory in the center, the crisis remains. According to the mage's account, eight legion commanders remain, six of them confirmed. Two are in the southern Gardia Kingdom, one in the northern Niboria Empire, three in the Elvra Holy Empire. As for the other two — we don't even know where or how they're moving. Meanwhile, the manpower available to the Alliance Forces is limited."

"……That is correct."

"Then what would you suggest? I would like to hear your thoughts."

Silence lingered for a time.

Calix quietly parted his lips.

"The Alliance Forces must march east."

"Quite right. It would be foolish to simply defend Star Haven. We must either fall back, or press forward. And you've chosen the latter? Naturally, you'll have your reasons."

"Yes."

He reached across the table toward the map and continued. His fingertip landed on a name — a rather familiar one.

"On Astria's eastern border lies the Storm Forest. That is the territory we must reclaim. If we establish a new defensive line there, it will anchor the entire front."

"From there, we'd have the means to push upward — and downward as well."

"Precisely. Once the defensive line holds, Master Belrnar will shield us against the enemy's advance. We don't know when the next assault will come, but if we fall back in stages while defending, we can buy at least a minimum of time."

"Buying time…… Means this isn't simply about holding back these wicked things?"

The core of it was grasped without a detailed explanation.

'Winning every battle isn't everything. That approach means winning the engagement but losing the war.'

Calix sees broadly, and at scale. Viale and Kalahim, along with the western nobles of Astria, had all joined — but this was still not enough.

"Yes. The alliance must grow larger."

"……You intend to bring the Niboria Empire into it. Into the alliance?"

For the first time, Great Chief Yoman's eyes sharpened.

A southern campaign was not impossible — but neither was it strictly necessary.

Calix knew that well.

'It's a ruthless decision, but there's no help for it. Securing the defensive line comes first.'

He answered in a calm, measured voice, his expression unchanged.

"That matter I will leave to the Alliance Forces' judgment. If the safety of the center is secured, moving within reasonable limits should be acceptable."

"Leaving it to the Alliance Forces' judgment…… Sounds to me like you intend to move separately. Am I correct?"

"You are. We will march east together, then proceed to a different destination."

What followed, he showed through action. The finger that had been pointing at the continent's center shifted upward — then drew downward in a single stroke.

A breathless silence enveloped the tent.

Something vast was being revealed.

"Winning on both sides simultaneously — above and below Astria — would be greed. Then we must determine which side matters more, and by how much."

"……Ha!"

Great Chief Yoman lets out an exclamation — one beat behind, yet ahead of every other person in the room. He shakes his head slowly, yet a smile plays at his lips.

He had read the path the Mountain Rabbits intended to take.

"You want to bring the Niboria Empire in? Into the alliance? You're mad. Utterly out of your mind."

"But it is necessary."

"Not merely necessary. If it can be done, it could overturn the entire course of the war in a single stroke. And yet that isn't where it ends, is it."

"……"

"You mean to push all the way to the Elvra Holy Empire in the continent's northeast, don't you? To stand against the forces of darkness — you wish to reclaim the Holy Order's clergy."

Calix feels a strange sensation. The sight of his counterpart reading his thoughts, agreeing, laughing, and marveling was a joy entirely unfamiliar to him.

Of course, there were those who opposed it.

"Kagracha, the plan is brilliant, but…… Do you think the Niborians will cooperate so willingly?"

"I share that concern. I've heard that Emperor Caracal's madness grows worse with every passing day."

"Rather than that, would it not be better to concentrate our strength in the south?"

The desert elders, the dwarves and elves, and even the western nobles of Astria stepped forward to dissuade him. Partly because the mission seemed impossible from the outset — but fundamentally, because they did not want the Mountain Rabbits to break away.

They had experienced Calix's abilities firsthand. They had witnessed consecutive victories, minimal casualties, the miracle of raising a city from the brink of ruin.

There was no shortage of reasons to hold on to him.

"Enough."

And in the end, only the lord who commands the sands could put a stop to it.

"How dare you impose a choice upon one who leads an army. The decision is his."

"But—"

"Whatever you have seen, so has he."

In the deep silence that followed,

Yoman turns aside, his gaze meeting Royce's. Then he looked to Marik, standing behind him, his face covered in burn scars.

Not a flicker.

They already know the road they will walk, and they are bound together by a faith deeper than death.

'Barakh…… I placed an unreasonable demand on you.'

How could one contain the great sea in a human vessel?

He acknowledges that truth — and yet cannot suppress his regret. Like the desert itself, the rain that held infinite promise slips through his fingers.

He was never a man Kalahim could hold.

"Calix."

And yet he recovers his composure in an instant, calling the young man's name with quiet warmth.

"Stars always cast their light for those who are lost. When you rang out across the sandstorm, you had already become the symbol of a new age. So no matter where you march—"

"……"

"Do not fall. Do not regret, do not look back, do not dwell on what was right or wrong. That is the one and only request of this Yoman."

The young man did not grasp every meaning contained within those words — yet he nodded silently. The great chief was satisfied with that brief reply.

Inside the tent, those with exceptional martial power were plentiful — but only two possessed the standing to rule over ten thousand.