The next morning, at the forward base.
This place, which had undergone reconstruction and continuous battles over the last three months, still bore the aftermath of the most recent battle.
Parts of the outer walls had collapsed, eroded by tree roots.
The tree monsters that had pressed up to the very edge of the forward base had stopped moving in that state and took root on the spot, returning to ordinary trees.
I sweated coldly as I looked at the trees densely filling the southern field of the forward base.
"...We'll have to cut them down, won't we?"
The head of the carpenters' guild, who had come with me for the reconstruction of the forward base, nodded.
"The wood won't be cost-effective, but it seems we must do it."
"Are they completely unusable?"
"They're all rotten or burnt trees. There were even hauntings at one time. It seems difficult to use them as timber."
Indeed, it would be somewhat unsettling to make anything out of trees that were alive and trying to kill people just yesterday.
"Cut down enough to clear the view and let them fall. Let's form a natural barricade."
"I will do so, Your Highness."
Workers and technicians brought from the city began the repairs of the forward base.
Clang- Clang- Watching the hammering sounds at the wall, I turned around to see an old man with a white beard, hands clasped behind his back.
The owner of the Ivory Tower. The current Grand Sorcerer, serving as the chief magician of the World Guardian Front. It was Dearmudin.
"The front line is precarious, Prince Ash."
Stroking his beard, Dearmudin spoke. I gave a bitter smile.
"Your contribution was significant yesterday, Lord Dearmudin."
"Contribution? Just did what I always do. It's only natural my skills are better than those fleshlings fumbling about."
This grandfather, who grumbled about joining the World Guardian Front at first, has been very active since participating in the front line.
Kind of like an old-timer who can't just watch the newbies mess up?
'No, you shouldn't govern like that' 'No, you shouldn't cast magic like that' 'No, you shouldn't live your life like that' – while pouring out grumpy advice everywhere, he also took the lead in battle, blasting away with magic.
Although he doesn't gain much popularity with his constant nagging and whining... I'm starting to get a sense of his character.
"We'll have to fight battles like this dozens of times more, won't we?"
It seems I'm the target of Dearmudin's latest rant. I listened quietly.
"I assure you. At this rate, this front will collapse."
"..."
"Other fronts might fend off a major offensive once in a few years, but here, we're repelling them every few days. Supplies may be coming from all over the world, so that's fine, but how do you intend to handle the accumulating fatigue on the people?"
Dearmudin was right.
Fatigue.
The monster waves of the third year, coming at twice the average frequency of previous invasions, were steadily accumulating fatigue on our side.
Furthermore, the intervals will only get shorter. For a while, we'll face defensive battles every two weeks, and in the latter half of the third year, monster waves will come every ten days.
Ideally, we would arrange a rotation to send people into battle in shifts, but that's not possible right now.
The level of defense cannot be maintained without elite heroes and veterans.
Even if we rotate the regular soldiers, the very elite must continually enter battle.
And they are worn down.
"The Sky Knight Mikhail Vermillion's misjudgment, narrowly leading to failure and the annihilation of his knights, was not a coincidence."
Dearmudin didn't stop his sharp criticism.
"Everything is inevitable. All things in the universe have a cause and effect."
"..."
"For the past three months, the Sky Knights were overworked, steadily stepping towards their doom. And at the critical moment, they made a fatal judgment error."
I looked intently at Dearmudin.
"So, you're saying that the annihilation of the Sky Knights... is my fault for using them too harshly?"
"Are you going to deny it?"
My gaze clashed with that of the Ivory Tower's owner in midair.
Our gazes fiercely collided, but eventually, I sighed and averted my eyes.
"...You're right, Lord Dearmudin."
I am the supreme commander of this front. The responsibility for all deaths lies with me.
Moreover, Dearmudin's macroscopic view of the war from a structural perspective also makes sense.
Up close, it might seem that the Sky Knights' needless annihilation was due to Mikhail's mistake and recklessness.
But from a distance, it can be interpreted that the entire front's operational situation was pushed to its limit, and the fatigue and strain accumulated, making the annihilation of the Sky Knights just one of the results this situation brought about.
'And, it might just be the beginning.'
Due to accumulated fatigue, other heroes might also start making mistakes they wouldn't normally make, and those small butterfly flaps could become the fuse leading to the front's downfall.
This is what Dearmudin pointed out.
The structural crisis facing the monster front.
"Everyone is being consumed. And Prince Ash, that consumption includes you as well."
"...You're saying I'm being consumed?"
"Isn't it the case? It's clear to see you sinking deeper into worry with each increase in the death toll."
I clenched my mouth shut. Dearmudin pointed his finger at me.
"If you continue to fight this way, you'll fall before reaching the finish line of the long race, just like Mikhail and the Sky Knights did."
"...Me."
I asked cautiously.
"What should I do? Can you lend me your wisdom?"
"You already know what advice I can give, don't you?"
Dearmudin shrugged.
"Sacrifice lives."
"...!"
"Reduce the frequency of elite deployments to lessen fatigue, and fill the remaining gaps with expendable lives. Even if the exchange rate of troops plummets and the number of graves beneath the soil increases, the front can be maintained."
An elite among elites, a magician.
The small state composed solely of magicians, the Ivory Tower.
Its ruler, Dearmudin, was suggesting this. To preserve the strength of the elites by sacrificing the lives of the non-elites.
"But you won't do that. You're fighting precisely to avoid that."
The old king's eyebrows twitched.
"You're a commander full of contradictions, Prince Ash. It's true that many are loyal to you because of those contradictions."
"..."
"Having decided to walk a difficult path, it's only natural that trials will continually come your way, isn't it?"
Dearmudin clicked his tongue.
"But remember, a leader who finds a good compromise between ideals and reality is called a wise ruler by the world."
"...And if I can't find one?"
"One of two things. Either a foolish tyrant or, well."
Or- leaving the sentence hanging, Dearmudin gave me a meaningful look before abruptly turning and walking away. He then disappeared into the distance.
I grumbled to myself.
"...Always such a difficult old man."
But, difficult as he may be, there wasn't a single wrong word in what he said.
If things continue as they are, the front will not hold and will collapse.
It was the same in the game. Unlike the first and second years, the third year saw many more battles, with the fatigue of heroes and soldiers almost always at its limit.
In the game, enduring the stat debuffs that come with being fatigued was manageable with sheer willpower and force.
But in this reality, that's not possible. Fatigue doesn't just reduce numbers; it breaks people's spirits.
Suddenly, the management of professional sports players, particularly in professional baseball, came to mind.
In league-based professional baseball games, losing is a strategic choice.
You give up on certain games and accumulate wins in ones you're sure you can win.
And then, in critical moments, you deploy your best - the reliable starting pitcher and the surefire closer.
Because players are human.
Even the best player will end up worn out and ruined if they play every game. It's ideal to deploy them where they can win.
'The problem is, defending against monsters isn't like playing a baseball game...'
If the monster front collapses, it's game over.
Even a single defeat means world annihilation. Every single battle has to be an all-out fight for survival.
In such a scenario, there's no room to save starters, relievers, closers, bullpen... the elite members.
So we've been throwing everything we have into the fight, somehow holding on, but...
The third year has been relentless. A change was needed.
But how?
'It's tough.'
Rubbing my throbbing forehead, I muttered to myself.
'It hurts, and it's tough...'
***
Temple.
Standing in front of Mikhail's hospital room, I took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
Creak-
Inside the open room, Mikhail was curled up, motionless.
Leaning against the wall at the corner of the bed, he had his face buried between his knees. Quietly.
"...Mikhail."
Approaching, I pulled a chair and sat down in front of him.
"I heard you haven't even taken a sip of water. You can't go on like this."
"..."
"You're refusing treatment, too? If this continues, your wounds could worsen, leading to more severe illnesses. You need to receive treatment before that happens."
"..."
"Mikhail."
To the unmoving Mikhail, I reluctantly uttered the next words.
"You have to think about your comrades who fell trying to save you. If you fall now..."
Snap!
Before I could finish, Mikhail's face, shadowed in darkness, flashed with crimson anger, and the young knight's fist grasped my collar.
With a haggard face dried with tear stains, Mikhail shouted.
"Don't speak so lightly!"
"..."
"Don't say it so lightly! All my lifelong comrades died right before my eyes, because of me...! How can I possibly...!"
"I'm not speaking lightly. I've lost plenty right in front of me, too."
Gently chiding the trembling Mikhail, who was shouting in a strained voice.
"But there are people you still have to lead."
"...!"
The subjects. The soldiers. And even the reserve griffins.
The remaining forces of the Vermillion Kingdom and the Sky Knights are still here in Crossroad, hoping only for the crown prince's recovery.
Not to mention, his homeland in the far northwest is also waiting for his safe return.
The shock of defeat is indescribably huge, but... giving up on eating and even refusing treatment is not something a crown prince should do.
Thinking of the people he still had to be responsible for seemed to calm him down a bit, and Mikhail slowly released his grip on my collar.
With his head bowed low, Mikhail murmured in a defeated tone.
"I've lost my comrades, the griffins, my weapons, everything. Am I... no longer able to fight?"
"The Sky Knights, and the Vermillion Kingdom, have contributed enough to the World Guardian Front. Everyone here on this front knows that."
"So, what, you're saying I can go back now?"
"...Yes."
The Vermillion Kingdom has lost not only its main force, the Sky Knights, but the crown prince has been injured as well. How could anyone ask for more participation in this situation?
However, upon hearing my words, the haggard Mikhail's lips curled up in a bitter smile.
"Don't joke, I can't go back like this."
"Mikhail."
"Having lost all my precious comrades... How can I return to my homeland with only this tragic failure in tow?"
The veins in Mikhail's pale hands bulged as he clenched the bed tightly.
"Don't make me laugh, stop it. I, we, have to prove it. We must prove that I, that we, the Sky Knights, are the highest flying knights in the world..."
"..."
Bowing his head, Mikhail continued to mutter to himself.
The mental shock must be immense. He lost all his comrades right before his eyes.
I patted Mikhail's shoulder one last time before standing up.
"For the sake of those left to you, you need to receive treatment and eat well. Understand?"
"..."
"I'll come again, Mikhail. Rest easy. Don't think about anything..."
After urging him, I left Mikhail's hospital room.
Even as I stepped out of the room, in the darkness of the unlit hospital room, curled up on the bed, Mikhail continued to mutter.
"I can't accept this... I won't accept it... I'll prove it... that I, that we..."
With his eyes flickering a restless crimson, glaring into the void.
"...can save the world."
--TL Notes--
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