After forcing Kaimborete into submission, Daniel relentlessly questioned him about the human experiments Count Khaledra had conducted in Fenbark.
With no options left, Kaimborete answered Daniel’s questions obediently.
Daniel documented the testimony and recorded it, then ordered a soldier to deliver the materials to the General Staff Headquarters.
That evidence was essential to completely shatter the Republic’s will to intervene in the war.
Having finished his task, Daniel finally allowed himself to relax.
All that remained was to deal with the provisional division the Allied Nations had abandoned.
He expected the battle to be easily won, since the Empire’s Magitek Mobile Brigade would be joining them soon.
But war always had unpredictable variables lurking at one’s feet.
Four days later, at dawn—
“The Allied forces have been spotted! They’re advancing on Fenbark at full speed! Damn it! We have about thirty minutes until contact!”
With the messenger delivering the report, the operations command post was bustling from the early morning hours.
Upon hearing that the Allied advance had begun, the staff officers had all rushed to the command center.
Some were still not fully dressed, exchanging grim words with one another.
“What is going on? Weren’t they supposed to arrive tomorrow around noon at the earliest?”
“You’re not wrong. Even at forced march pace, they wouldn’t have reached here before tomorrow noon. Which means...”
“It appears they forced a river crossing and cut their sleep time to push forward. The enemy commander must be aiming for a short-term decisive battle.”
While the staff officers were murmuring over the sudden enemy assault, the doors to the command post swung open.
Daniel Steiner entered from beyond the doors, and the staff officers all bowed their heads.
Ignoring them, Daniel walked to the head of the operations table and furrowed his brow.
“I heard the enemy has begun their attack. Is that true?”
At Daniel’s question, Phelp, the intelligence officer, nodded.
“Yes, sir. It appears the enemy division is pushing forward at a very fast pace, likely aiming for a swift victory. They’ll make contact with our first line of defense in approximately thirty minutes.”
“...So the enemy commander isn’t a complete fool.”
He must have realized that the longer the battle dragged on, the worse it would get for him.
Though it was unexpected and somewhat jarring, Daniel spoke calmly.
“What about reinforcements? When will the Magitek Mobile Brigade under Brigadier General Heinrich arrive?”
“We’ve relayed the news to them, but they said it’ll take at least a full day for them to reach Fenbark. That means we’ll have to hold the line and delay the enemy as long as possible.”
“A full day, huh. Then we’ll just have to manage. Muster the reserves. The moment the first line collapses, they’ll form a containment line.”
Seeing the staff officers nod, Daniel exhaled quietly.
“I’ll head to the field to oversee operations directly. In the meantime, the staff will handle civil control and check the command network lines every ten minutes. Also, while I’m gone, all unit positions are to be reflected on the map in real time. Understood?”
Hearing their replies, Daniel left the command post with a radio operator, leaving only the words: I’m counting on you.
He stepped outside, heading toward the mansion gate—when he suddenly stopped.
A woman with light brown hair was leaning against the wall, humming softly to herself.
“...Lieutenant Frien?”
Hearing Daniel’s voice, Frien straightened her posture and turned to face him.
“Brigade Commander. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You were waiting? For me?”
“Yes~. I have an urgent favor to ask. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but...”
Frien gave an awkward smile.
“Things aren’t looking too great on the front right now, are they? So I came to offer my help.”
“You’ve already been a great help. There’s no need for you to personally—”
“Not that kind of help.”
Frien cut him off, hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
“I want to fight on the battlefield now. Not from the rear—but at the front, where I can really be of use to you, Brigadier General Steiner. I want to see the results of my efforts.”
“...Results of your efforts?”
“Oh, come on. Brigade Commander, don’t tell me you think I actually enjoy torturing people? Do I look like someone that heartless?”
To be honest, he had suspected she leaned a little in that direction.
When Daniel stayed silent, Frien puffed out her cheeks indignantly.
“You’re so mean. I’m a delicate woman, you know? When someone screams and hurls abuse right in my face, even I get hurt by it, you know? The reason I kept going with the interrogations was...”
Frien stepped closer to Daniel.
At a distance where their faces were nearly touching, she continued softly.
“...because I wanted to improve my skills and be of help to you, Brigade Commander.”
Her hand gently rose and touched his chest.
“Helping you is how I validate myself.”
Frien remembered it clearly.
The moment Daniel had told her that her dark magic was not a curse, but a blessing.
When everyone else called her a witch, or Satan’s child—only Daniel had not.
He probably doesn’t even realize how much comfort that one sentence gave me...
Frien gave a faint smile, withdrew her hand, and stepped back.
“So please let me fight on the battlefield. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”
With her saying all that, there was no way he could refuse.
Daniel let out a low breath.
“Fine. I’ll authorize it. But the moment it becomes too dangerous, you fall back. Understood?”
Upon hearing Daniel’s permission, Frien nodded.
As if to say: Don’t worry.
One hour later – First Defensive Line
3rd Company, Infantry Battalion
A sandbag wall burst apart, swallowing the machine gun nest whole.
Radio operator Ramho, who had been moving past the machine gunner, was caught in the blast and slammed to the ground with a wet thud.
Gunfire and shouting rang out around him, but he couldn’t hear it properly.
Whether his eardrums had burst or not, all he could make out was a strange droning and a high-pitched ringing that repeated over and over again.
He tried to curse, but his words didn’t come out right.
His mouth felt dry and gritty—probably full of sand.
Spitting out phlegm or spit or whatever was clogging his throat, Ramho raised his head.
Through the thick smoke, he could see a silhouette.
As he approached, he saw it was a comrade—bleeding from a torn-open abdomen.
The man was gasping for breath, probably hit by shrapnel from a high-explosive round, and the sight was pitiful.
“Hey! Can you hear me!?”
He grabbed the man’s shoulders and shook him, but the soldier was lost in panic, only gasping for air.
Judging there was no hope, Ramho abandoned him and moved on.
His intent was to reach a safer spot and make a radio call to headquarters.
Normally, radio contact should be made immediately after enemy contact—but when it came to sheer survival instinct, rules of the corps didn’t mean much.
“They’re coming! Those bastards are coming!”
“Hold the line no matter what! There are only three tanks on this front!”
“Anti-tank gun! Get the goddamn AT gun over here, you fuckers!”
As the ringing in his ears began to subside, the gunfire and yelling became clearer again.
The enemy had advanced much faster than expected, and everyone was panicking, flailing in chaos.
Ramho swore under his breath and forced his legs to move faster.
He didn’t know how many enemy troops had attempted a breakthrough in this sector, but at this rate, they could be wiped out entirely.
As he ran, trying to fall back somehow, a sharp whizzing sound tore past him.
Before he could even turn his head, a high-explosive round detonated.
A wall of fire and air blasted out violently.
Thrown to the side by the shockwave, Ramho’s ears were ringing again.
His helmet had been blown off, and in the daze and chaos, he fumbled across the ground.
Desperately searching for his helmet, he felt something thick and sticky trickle from his lips.
Only then did he realize something was wrong with his body. Looking down, he saw shrapnel embedded in his side.
Around him, other soldiers were writhing on the ground, screaming as they too suffered from shrapnel wounds.
Ramho, sobbing without realizing it, pulled the radio from his back and grabbed the transmitter.
He couldn’t flee in this state—so at the very least, he decided to complete his duty.
Checking the frequency, Ramho pressed the transmission button.
“This is 3rd Company, First Defensive Line to Brigade Headquarters. Come in, Brigade HQ...”
Static hissed through the line before HQ responded.
—This is Brigade HQ. What’s the situation?
What do you mean, what’s the situation, you bastard... Ramho swore in his head before forcing his mouth to move.
“Currently in contact with the enemy at First Defensive Line. Three enemy tanks confirmed on 3rd Company’s sector. Defensive positions sustaining damage. Multiple casualties. Requesting support...”
From somewhere—he didn’t know where—black magic began seeping into the wound in his side.
As he tried to understand what was happening, a gentle singing voice reached his ears.
Ramho turned toward the sound and saw a woman walking slowly among the fallen soldiers.
With her eyes closed and hands folded, she was singing a hymn.
To Ramho, she looked sacred.
Behind her, black magic formed a halo-like glow.
Still dazed by the surreal sight, Ramho suddenly noticed that the pain in his side was lessening.
Startled, he looked down—and saw the black magic sealing his wound shut.
As the wound healed rapidly, the shrapnel was pushed out and fell to the ground.
Ramho stared in disbelief, then looked back at the woman.
Wherever she passed, black magic bloomed like flowers, healing the fallen soldiers.
At first, one or two began to stand up—but the number quickly grew exponentially.
Eventually, nearly forty soldiers had recovered ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) and were getting to their feet. Ramho stood there, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open.
A miracle sent from the heavens for the Imperial Army.
If not, there was no way to explain what he was seeing.
As Ramho, still mesmerized, stared at the woman singing on the battlefield, the radio crackled again.
—3rd Company? What’s your casualty count? Do you need support? 3rd Company, respond?
Still staring at the woman, Ramho picked up the transmitter.
“No casualties. Here, we...”
Frozen with disbelief, he swallowed hard.
Then finally, awestruck, he found the word that could explain it all.
Certainty settled into Ramho’s eyes.
“A Saint has descended here.”