Yuri arrived at the Mage Guild’s fortress.
In the great hall where they had dined, a long table was set up, and commanders from each nation took their seats.
Yuri sat quietly.
Across the table, Sybilla and Jonathan exchanged glances with him. Yuri nodded slightly in return.
The seat of honor remained empty—Ragna had not yet arrived.
The atmosphere was heavy.
Since this was the first gathering of the commanders, it seemed they chose to assert their presence rather than exchange warm greetings.
Though they must have recognized each other by now, no one made any effort to acknowledge it.
Breaking the silence, Yuri turned to the person beside him.
“Where are you from?”
His voice was low but clear enough for everyone to hear.
The man, caught off guard, shifted his gaze.
“Pardon?”
“Which country do you represent?”
“Oh, I’m…”
He placed a hand over his chest.
“Wolf Gain of Liberta. Count Abra’s son.”
He was presumed to be the father of Sven Gain, who was notorious for his sharp tongue. Seeing father and son together, it was clear their family had staked their honor on this campaign against the orcs.
“And you are…?”
“Oh, I’m…”
Even across nations, royalty received special treatment. Yuri immediately dropped formalities.
“I’m Yuri Briol, third prince and commander of Briol’s forces.”
“I see. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“You’re Sven Gain’s father?”
“How do you know my son…?”
A shadow of worry crossed his face.
Judging by his concern, his son must have a habit of getting into trouble.
For everyone’s sake, Yuri offered a well-meaning lie.
“We just happened to cross paths. He’s accomplished a lot at a young age.”
“Hahaha…”
“He’s got great momentum. He’ll do big things in this allied army.”
“You flatter me.”
Praising his son eased the man’s expression, and a smile appeared.
As Yuri and Wolf exchanged words, the other commanders began to chat among themselves.
Gradually, the room filled with conversation.
The mood was completely different from before Yuri’s arrival.
Wolf asked, “Did you approach me on purpose? The atmosphere was frozen until you spoke.”
“We’re comrades risking our lives together. There’s no point in putting on airs.”
“You have a noble spirit.”
“Not really.”
Yuri leaned back in his chair.
“If we go into battle like this, we’ll all die.”
Wolf nodded emphatically.
“I agree. Everyone’s underestimating the orcs, but they’re not to be taken lightly.”
“Do you know much about the orcs?”
“Yes. I’ve faced them before. Back then…”
They exchanged opinions about the allied forces. Unlike his son, the father was easy to talk to.
Voices grew louder, and the room became increasingly noisy. So much so that no one noticed when the door opened and someone entered.
Only when he took the seat of honor did the chatter cease, and all eyes turned toward him.
His piercing blue eyes scanned the room.
So clear, it felt as if they could see right through you.
Yet his frame was large and imposing.
A crimson cloak, symbolizing the empire, draped over his broad shoulders, embroidered with a golden lion whose emblem distorted with the folds.
He was the emperor’s half-brother and the supreme commander of the allied forces.
Ragna Gustaf Granzien.
“The mood’s lively,” he said.
“That’s why I came in quietly.”
His gaze swept over the assembly.
The moment his eyes met Yuri’s, a chill seemed to pass through him.
“Do you need more time to talk?”
No one answered.
Ragna nodded to himself and leaned back.
“Then I’ll speak.”
At once, he released his energy.
An overwhelming aura radiated from him. The pressure that suppressed the room was the hallmark of the Empire’s Lion Heart Technique.
Those less skilled gasped.
“I am Ragna, supreme commander of the allied forces.”
He said this with a low laugh—an enigmatic sound.
“Well, it came to this.”
Then he stood.
It was like a mountain rising.
Though all the knights gathered here were well-built, Ragna towered above them.
“I’ll say this upfront: I hate cowards. Cooperation is pointless anyway, so fight bravely. Anyone who runs, I’ll cut down myself.”
Yuri met his gaze.
Their eyes locked.
Ragna scrutinized Yuri briefly before looking away.
“No matter your rank, it means nothing to me. You’re all just knights. You’ll be assigned roles fitting your skills, and your deeds will be rewarded.”
Ragna’s approach was, in a way, practical.
An army drawn from many nations doesn’t easily blend. It’s better to let them compete.
But that’s a privilege reserved for the strong.
The orcs are by no means weaker than the allied forces. That’s why the last campaign failed.
Yuri clenched and unclenched his fist.
“Any questions?”
Ragna asked.
In the heavy silence, Yuri spoke up.
“Yes.”
Ragna looked at him, and the other commanders followed his gaze.
“What’s your question?”
His voice was rough, but Yuri didn’t flinch.
He knew Ragna’s nature. If anything, he was like the uncle of an ex-girlfriend.
Ekaterina had told him a lot.
Ragna liked those who were confident.
Best were those skilled and composed; next best were those who, even without skill, held their heads high.
He preferred confidence over skillless submission.
“How does the Empire assess the orcs’ strength?”
Yuri asked.
Ragna smirked.
“Kid, who are you?”
“I’m Yuri Briol, commander of the Briol army.”
“Briol.”
Ragna tilted his head, then seemed to remember something and stroked his chin.
“So you’re the one Georg mentioned. How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“A greenhorn commander with barely a hint of down on his chin.”
A few chuckled quietly.
Ragna glared at them.
“But that kid’s better than the others.”
“…”
“Better than those who couldn’t even open their mouths.”
The ones he called out fell silent and bowed their heads.
Ragna stood.
“Common sense. You need to know your enemy before battle. Or have you all already learned more than the Empire? Got better intel?”
He walked behind his chair and placed both hands on Yuri’s shoulders, solid as an ancient tree’s roots.
“I’ll keep it brief. A brute named Okua has appeared. He’s subjugated the three largest orc tribes and is swallowing the rest quickly. Their power threatens the entire continent. We’re not guaranteed to win.”
The hall fell silent.
But the quiet wasn’t from fear of the orcs—it was fear of Ragna himself.
No one entertained the thought of losing to the orcs.
Yuri closed his eyes.
This was why Ragna had to come.
To change the future, he had to do it himself.
“I’ll send a detailed report later. Kid, is that enough explanation?”
“Yes.”
Yuri nodded.
Though Ragna gripped his shoulders firmly, Yuri showed no sign of pain—instead, he smiled.
Yuri worked hard to earn Ragna’s trust, hoping to gain enough influence to make suggestions.
Ragna spoke again.
“We leave the day after tomorrow.”
A sudden announcement.
“The orcs have camped not far from Valshad. We could just turn back, but I don’t want to.”
Ragna didn’t shy away from battle.
“Our first fight as the allied army. The vanguard…”
Yuri felt the weight on his shoulders grow heavier.
“You’ll lead it, Yuri Briol.”
All eyes fixed on him.
Their gazes betrayed their true thoughts—these were men eager to prove themselves by killing orcs. Everyone wanted to be at the front.
Yuri wasn’t thrilled by Ragna’s offer.
The vanguard always suffers heavy casualties. Depending on his decision, more lives would rest on his shoulders.
“Yes.”
But Yuri answered.
“I will gladly take the vanguard.”
There was no such thing as a happy future for all.
He had come here to fight a war.
His allies would die, and the enemy even more.
The moon hung again in the sky.
Yuri stared into the dying campfire, lost in thought. A red silhouette danced over his dark eyes.
He remained silent, deep in contemplation, making it difficult for anyone to break the quiet.
“Your Highness.”
Someone broke the silence.
“You seem troubled.”
Loran approached and sat beside him, tossing a log into the fire as he spoke.
“Is it because of the meeting earlier today?”
“Not really…”
Yuri shook his head.
“Just waiting.”
“For what…?”
At that moment, a soldier approached.
Sensing his presence, Yuri looked up and brightened.
“Your Highness, here it is.”
“Why did it take so long?”
“Preparations were delayed…”
“Well done.”
Yuri took the food tray.
“Not eating?”
“I have to eat too.”
“Ask him to get one for you. And get one for Loran as well.”
“Yes, sir.”
The soldier ran off to fetch the meals.
“Were you so serious because of the food?”
“I was just waiting.”
“Me too…”
They sat side by side and began to eat. Since the exception for knights’ meals was removed, even the knights had adapted to the standard rations.
“There are so many stars tonight.”
“It’s the open plains.”
“Seems like our unit’s food has a good reputation.”
“Looks that way.”
Yuri and Laurent turned their heads at the same time. They sensed someone approaching.
“Oh?”
It was Marie-Rose, the owner of Balshard and the mage of this generation.
She was walking alongside Jonathan from Bursen.
“Is that your meal?”
Marie-Rose’s eyes widened as she looked down at Yuri and Laurent’s trays.
Though the food was prepared with care for ordinary soldiers, it looked meager to a noble’s eyes.
“Yeah.”
“You eat with the regular soldiers?”
“Well…”
“Is it the same for Bursen?”
“We eat separately.”
“Then why does everyone in Briole eat the same food?”
For a noble—especially one of the king’s bloodline—to eat the same meals as common soldiers was unusual.
“Why so many questions?”
“You’re a mage, after all.”
Marie-Rose straightened her back and took a slow turn around the barracks. Then she pointed at Yuri’s quarters, where the Briole royal family’s banner hung.
“You live here?”
“Well…”
Without hesitation, Marie-Rose strode over and pulled back the curtain at the entrance. Inside, the tent revealed a bleak, barren scene.
“What’s this?”
“Just looking around.”
Marie-Rose leaned in, peering inside.
Yuri nudged Laurent’s back.
“Get her out of there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Laurent jumped up and approached.
Before he could stop her, Marie-Rose closed the tent again, folded her arms behind her back, and shrugged.
“Tour’s over.”
“The commander’s tent is off-limits.”
“So what? We’re on the same side.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do you think I’d side with the orcs?”
“Maybe.”
“She’s got a sharp eye.”
Marie-Rose leaned forward, looking down at Yuri.
“Did you know? A person’s room reflects their inner self.”
“Then your room must be a mess.”
“Exactly the opposite. It’s sparkling with jewels. But the prince’s room is bleak, and his meals are sloppy. I hear you even stand at the front lines in battle?”
“Did you do some digging?”
“Just rumors.”
Marie-Rose smiled slyly.
“Why live like that?”
Depending on how you took it, the comment could be rude.
Quick-witted Jonathan stepped in as a mediator.
“I-I’m curious too. Why live so frugally? You’re truly a model to us all. An example to follow. Ha ha ha…”
“No one says anything if the prince eats well. There’s no need to eat the same as the soldiers.”
Yuri frowned.
Marie-Rose kept chattering, making it hard to eat.
“They say you shouldn’t be disturbed while eating…”
“I’m not a dog.”
Marie-Rose sat down opposite Yuri.
Just then, a soldier brought over a tray. Jonathan accepted it, but Marie-Rose shook her head.
Sitting across the campfire, Marie-Rose stared intently at Yuri.
“I’m just curious. If you answer me, I’ll help you the day after tomorrow.”
“How?”
“With magic. Here, I’m better than that Hernando guy. I’m a mage, you know?”
Yuri paused mid-bite.
“Sigh…”
He looked at Marie-Rose with clear annoyance.
“Are you really that curious?”
“Yes.”
“It’s nothing special.”
“That’s fine.”
“It might be a disappointing answer, but I’ll help you with everything I’ve got.”
“I’ll keep to the principle of good faith.”
“Alright.”
Yuri said.
“I’ll be dead the day after tomorrow.”
Everyone looked at him in surprise.
Yuri gestured toward the soldiers’ barracks beyond the campfire.
“Someone’s going to die the day after tomorrow. We’re the vanguard attacking the enemy. I decided this, so more will die and get hurt.”
Yuri stood up.
Though he had returned by some twist of fate, he hadn’t lived long enough to fully understand life and death. If anything, that made it all the more mysterious.
“I’m not going to get sentimental. But I won’t deny the truth either.”
Laughter drifted from the soldiers’ tents beyond. Life goes on, even before battle.
Yuri looked up at the sky.
The stars shone in a perfect line.
If there was someone who sent him back to the past, what could they possibly want from him?
“I’m just doing what little duty I have.”
It was an unexpected confession.
Marie-Rose tilted her head.
Jonathan wore a blank expression.
Who would have guessed that the third prince of Briole, who always seemed to do as he pleased, was thinking like this?
Laurent closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath. Then he stood.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes?”
“The day after tomorrow, I’ll stand by your side.”
“I’m fast. You sure you can keep up?”
“Of course.”
Laurent placed his hand over his heart.
The flickering campfire reflected in his eyes.
“I, Laurent Flandre, will stay by your side until the very end.”