Okua was dead.
With the ruler gone, the orcs lost all order and were hunted down by the Allied Army like wild beasts.
The soldiers, exhausted from a long campaign, showed no mercy. Each fallen orc was confirmed dead by a spear through the head.
The Allied Army separated the corpses of humans and orcs.
The orc corpses were thrown into pits and burned.
A thick, acrid smoke lingered for a long time.
The corpses of the Allied Army were entrusted to high-ranking priests of the Holy Kingdom.
"We shall never forget their sacrifice."
The priest wrapped each body in a white shroud and laid them down neatly.
There were so many dead that the land turned white.
White cloths fluttered in the grassland wind.
The entire army stood in formation.
Yuri stood at the head of the Briol forces, overseeing the funeral.
"The eyes of God do not distinguish between high and low. Their faith and bravery have been witnessed by the Lord, and they shall be wrapped in His warm hands and led to paradise."
Listening to the priest's sermon, Yuri looked up at the sky.
The promise of paradise for the faithful and punishment for the deceitful didn't resonate with him.
Was he not someone who should have fallen into hell, now standing here?
His mourning was simply to carry more weight on his shoulders so that their deaths would not be in vain.
"Let us all observe a moment of silence."
At the priest's words, the entire Allied Army bowed their heads.
The sound of a warhorn echoed.
The horn that had once announced battle now resounded mournfully, as if to comfort the spirits of the dead.
The priest invoked holy magic.
"May the sacred flame take their bodies."
The shrouded corpses were engulfed in white flames.
There was no thick smoke, no drifting black ash.
Like flowers blooming and fading silently, their bodies dissolved quietly under the priest's blessing.
Thus, the funeral ended.
Yuri turned around.
Though the war had only just ended, the troops had dressed as properly as they could to pay their respects. Some had reddened eyes.
Yuri took out a piece of paper from his coat.
"Kesman."
The name of the first to die.
"Stefan."
Succumbed to his wounds in the end.
"Pain. Altos. Gate…"
As the names of the fallen from the Briol forces were recited, everyone straightened their backs.
Yuri had recorded the names of all who had fallen in battle.
"Imar, Kusendai, James…"
Yuri called out every name, not leaving out a single one.
The names of the dead made the living weep.
"Dyke."
At that, the expressions of Simon and Guinness, who stood right in front, darkened. As Guinness began to cry, Simon wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
Yuri placed a hand on Guinness's head and finished the roll call.
"That is all, our comrades who departed with honor."
He did not add empty words about seeing them again in paradise.
He did not believe in such things.
He only spoke from the heart.
"It was an honor to have fought beside you."
Then he folded the list and tucked it back into his coat.
Yuri turned to watch the white flames until they died out, until their remains returned completely to the earth.
Laurent and Jared stood beside him.
"We'll be seeing this a lot from now on."
"I'm prepared."
"There's no avoiding it."
Soon, the priest's holy magic finished completely incinerating the bodies of the fallen soldiers.
Only a handful of ashes remained where they had lain.
Suddenly, a breeze blew in.
White ash began to scatter.
It drifted through the air and passed over the raised flag of the Allied Army.
The flag was dusted in white.
Yuri quietly looked up at the scene.
***
The journey back was filled with a light atmosphere.
Though there had been sacrifices, they were the victors.
The Allied Army had achieved the greatest military feat in history, and those who had participated were to receive vast rewards and honor.
With the resumption of supply lines, Balshad sent a steady stream of food and alcohol.
Feasts were held every night.
"I've washed my hands of it now."
A soldier from Euzeth, once a gambling addict, declared. He was staggering drunk.
"I'll never waste money on gambling again. With the reward from the Allied Army, I'll buy land and live honestly as a farmer."
Yuri shook his head.
"A skilled gambler like you, working the land? Doesn't suit you."
"Please don't tempt me."
"A farmer, really? Can you truly be satisfied with that? How about betting your fate on one last card game, using that reward money? Imagine how much more it could grow."
"That's…"
"You risked your life to earn it—now gamble that life again. Make a bet worthy of the history books."
"Ah…"
"Your fate doesn't end with a plow in your hands."
Yuri was tempting a subordinate who had vowed to quit gambling—like some scummy adult teaching a naive student how to smoke.
"You're right, Your Highness."
The man shook his head, then suddenly snapped awake.
"A farmer, I was thinking all wrong. Haha, of course! I'm not the kind of gambler who ends like that. I need to play the real game now."
"You little…"
"With my skills and this money, I'll sweep through the house back in my hometown and build a—"
Yuri slapped him across the face.
"Gah!"
"I said all that to test your resolve, you piece of trash!"
The situation flipped.
"W-wait, Your Highness?"
"You cried every time you drank, saying your gambling debts were ruining your family, and you still haven't come to your senses?"
"Well, I…"
"You said it was just a joke during the Allied Army campaign. That when the war ended, you'd break your deck."
"I did say that…"
"Hey."
Yuri grabbed both of his cheeks.
He'd enjoyed playing cards with him and wanted to help him turn his life around.
In his past life as a wandering mercenary, he'd met countless lowlifes.
They hadn't started that way. Each had a story—most tied to gambling or drugs.
That's why he could tell instantly.
This was the typical prologue to a debt-ridden mercenary's tragic tale told while drunk.
This was the time to stop.
"If you go back like this, word will spread that you've got money. The gamblers you used to run with will tempt you again. You'll fall into their trap, be buried in debt, and watch your family sold off. You'll be tormented by guilt and debt, drink yourself stupid, and end up risking your life again on the front lines."
"Whoa, Your Highness…"
"We are Briol, aren't we?"
Yuri stared into his eyes and said,
"Keep your vow."
The soldier's eyes, clouded by alcohol, regained focus.
He nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Then he raised both his hands.
"Long live the Prince!"
After shouting a few more cheers, he collapsed.
Feeling drained, Yuri muttered,
"What am I even doing with a drunk guy…"
He shook his head and sat back down. All around him, drunken soldiers lay sprawled, completely knocked out.
Despite his young age, he rarely got drunk.
It seemed that even the intoxication was no match for the genes of his father, Fiore Briol.
"Prince, Prince…"
Another soldier nearby approached Yuri and clasped his hands.
Yuri furrowed his brow.
"I heard what you said earlier."
"What's with you now?"
"I was really touched. That you'd go that far for a mere low-ranking soldier… kuhuhuk…"
"Why are you crying?"
"I love you, Prince…"
"You bastard…"
Yuri hastily pushed him away.
The soldier kept confessing his love to Yuri until he passed out cold.
It was chaos.
Everywhere he looked, knights and soldiers were mingling together, drunkenly ranting and raving.
The once-disciplined Allied Army, which had maintained order like a sharpened blade, had turned into a group of third-rate ruffians the moment the war ended.
"Good grief…"
Yuri could only laugh.
What else could he do? This was the battlefield, after all.
They had fought for a long time with death looming overhead. If this was how they relieved their pent-up stress, then perhaps it was a good thing.
Yuri took a sip of the beer placed in front of him.
It was lukewarm and didn't taste great.
"Phew…"
As Yuri gazed up at the night sky of the grassland, a soldier from the Empire approached from afar.
"Prince."
"What is it?"
Though Yuri asked, he already had a good idea why the man had come.
"His Highness has summoned you."
"Understood."
Ever since the war had ended in victory, Yuri had been summoned by him every evening. Those who had caught Ragna's attention within the Allied Army were in the same boat.
"I can bring my teacher and Laurent with me, right?"
"Yes, that's correct!"
"I'll bring them, so don't worry."
"Thank you."
They were already familiar with each other, so communication went smoothly.
The soldier bowed and turned away. Most likely, he was heading to Bursen to fetch Jose and Jonathan.
Yuri approached Laurent, who was sitting some distance away. Everyone else had passed out, but Laurent sat upright and composed.
"Laurent."
"Yes, Prince."
Laurent stood up the moment he heard his name, even before Yuri finished speaking.
"Shall we go?"
"Huh?"
"His Highness must be waiting, right?"
"Yeah…"
"I've been preparing in advance so as not to cause you any trouble, Prince."
It seemed Laurent's condition had worsened a bit.
"You don't have to go that far…"
"I will bring Sir Moyong Chan."
"Alright…"
Laurent was pouring all his effort into supporting Yuri perfectly.
Yuri shook his head. At this rate, Laurent might start preparing his coffin in advance.
With Laurent and Moyong Chan in tow, Yuri headed to the Empire. A large table had already gathered several guests.
Ragna, seated at the head of the table, gestured with his hand.
"Come, Yuri! And Sir Moyong Chan, and Laurent!"
Thanks to Moyong Chan's remarkable feats, his words and actions had become a trend in the Allied Army. The title "great swordsman" had caught on too.
Upon hearing this, Ragna began addressing Moyong Chan as "great swordsman" as a show of respect.
"Thank you for the invitation."
"Hahaha, come, sit, sit!"
"Yes."
As Yuri looked around, he suddenly furrowed his brow.
Ernando was seated at one of the tables.
Around him were mages from various nations, and every time Ernando spoke, they all listened attentively and respectfully.
It seemed he had claimed the top spot among mages.
"Damn Ernando…"
Though Yuri acknowledged that he was a great mage, their relationship was too familiar—seeing Ernando being revered was extremely irritating.
Yuri took an empty seat.
Ragna was chatting with Moyong Chan.
"Sir Moyong Chan, did you sleep well?"
"It is good. The Empire's bed is nice."
"That's good to hear. I'm glad you liked it. Hahahaha!"
Ragna was attempting to win Moyong Chan over with a barrage of gifts.
Of course, Moyong Chan accepted the gifts, and when things seemed to turn against him, he pretended his continent-speak was poor and distanced himself.
Yuri began to doubt Moyong Chan's actual proficiency in the continental language.
"Now then, let's have another enjoyable gathering tonight,"
Ragna said, clapping his hands.
Lately, he had been in an extremely good mood.
Naturally so—he had been pushed into what was practically a trap, yet things had gone well, and he'd come out of it with unexpected glory.
"I called everyone here because I have something to say."
Soon, the seats were full.
The commanders of each nation were all present.
"The Empire plans to invite the heroes of this Allied Army."
At that, murmurs spread throughout the hall.
Yuri narrowed his eyes, looking at Ragna.
"First, the commanders of each unit—you who are here now—and anyone you'd like to accompany you. We'll accept everyone, regardless of number."
Jonathan raised his hand.
"Do we need to go to the Empire right away?"
"That won't be necessary. The war was long, so you'll want to visit your homelands. After the triumphal return is complete, we'll send out formal invitations."
"When will that be?"
"It won't take long. You all know what event the Empire is holding soon, right?"
The commanders looked at one another. Some nodded, others tilted their heads in confusion.
Yuri knew exactly what event Ragna was referring to.
"A swordsmanship tournament. We'll time the invitations to coincide with the event."
[T/L: Read more chapters on Ko-fi page "RevengerScans" : https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]