Lieutenant General Cedric was having the happiest time of his life, aside from marrying his wife and being promoted to the rank of General. It was strange to call watching the enemy burn to death the “happiest moment” of one’s life, but for Cedric, after years of nothing but defeat on the Northern Front, it felt fitting.
“Who could’ve thought the Imperials were stupid enough to drink during a war?” Cedric laughed heartily, like a grandfather telling a story.
His surroundings told a different tale, however. He was drenched in blood from head to toe, and bodies lay sprawled around him, massive holes torn through their chests.
“My lord,” Devon said calmly. “It is time to retreat.”
“Oh,” Cedric sighed. “Just when things were getting exciting.”
Still, he turned back. After all, he had promised Devon to retreat once the Field Spells began targeting the enemy’s withdrawal points. Breaking that promise would only earn him another lecture later.
“Why is my lord on the battlefield? Worse, on the front line?” Cedric could already hear it.
“We need to kill the Moon Bringer!” A voice shouted behind them. One of the bodies twitched, then slowly stood up. “Kill him!”
The bodies belonged to knights of Household Ember. They were drunk, making them easy prey for Cedric’s stress relief, but they were still knights. They used mana to reinforce their bodies, turning their skin hard as iron and weapons unnaturally sharp.
Normally, it would take a monster to slaughter a group of knights, even in their drunken state. Unfortunately for them, the monster was right there.
Cedric swung his spear.
A moment later, the knight collapsed, another massive hole torn through him.
“C-charge!”
The remaining Imperial soldiers rushed forward, desperate to bring down the infamous Moon Bringer.
Cedric continued retreating, Devon close at his side. Royal Soldiers, the 9th Corps, swarmed around them in a protective ring while others moved in to finish off the remaining Imperials. The sound of weapons clashing with each other echoed across the battlefield as the two sides fought.
Cedric sighed as he was unsatisfied, but made his way to the main command post. Several officers in battle dress ordered the assault: 500 soldiers raiding supplies while the other 2,000 mopped up the remaining resistance.
"We've secured their artifacts!"
"Food and water supplies are burned!"
"The Imperial Wind Birds have been freed or killed!"
Good news flooded the command center as officers rushed about. Meanwhile, the mage group had arrived: twenty 4th Order mages and two hundred 3rd Order mages, freshly deployed.
"This will do for our Field Spell." Cedric stroked his chin and nodded.
After all, a Field Spell required either one 4th Order mage or four 3rd Order mages working together. With these numbers, they could unleash 70 simultaneous Field Spells, each one packing more destructive force than any catapult.
“Begin the bombardment at the front of the Imperial camp,” Cedric ordered.
Devon stepped closer and lowered his voice. “My lord, forgive the interruption, but Warrant Officer Aria and a hundred soldiers are still engaged in combat in the front. I recommend sending Wind Birds first before firing.”
“Hmm.” Cedric stroked his shaved white beard, thinking. “Are you certain any Wind Birds would even make it through without being shot down?”
Wind Birds were practically useless on active battlefields. They were frightened easily, and both Imperial and Royal soldiers were trained to shoot them down on sight as a priority.
It didn’t help that the difference was obvious. Shiena Kingdom’s Wind Birds were green while the Emavia Empire’s were yellow. On a battlefield, anything that flew was a target. And of course, there was a mutual agreement that using the enemy Wind Birds were forbidden.
“But we’ll have to try,” Devon said simply, signaling an officer to send out a Wind Bird.
Cedric shrugged and pulled out his silver pocket watch, a birthday gift from his grandchild. The hour hand showed it was exactly three in the morning.
"I'll start firing after ten minutes," Cedric said, settling onto a broken bed looted from the Imperial camp. "Then we fire."
Devon nodded as they waited. Reports flooded in that the Imperials had begun retreating. Cedric watched his pocket watch in silence. When the minute hand hit two, he spoke.
"Start firing."
The mages nodded as they all raised their staff in hand.
"Prepare to fire on my mark!" Colonel Cameron, leader of the Mage Division, shouted as he started to chant. A massive magical circle materialized, and the air thrummed with mana.
Around him, the 4th Order mages raised their staff and began chanting Field Spells. The 3rd Order mages followed, each group of four chanting in perfect unison. Soon, 70 magical circles appeared all around, aiming at the retreating point.
"FIRE!" Cameron roared.
70 Field Spells launched toward the retreating Imperials.
Fireballs rained down, followed by lightning bolts, ice spears, massive boulders, and countless other elemental attacks. Screams erupted from the Imperial ranks.
"Anyway," Cedric said casually. "Did we kill Major General Ayas?"
Though it hadn't been mentioned to Aria, Cedric and the other officers had agreed that Major General Ayas wouldn't be killed. Instead, they would let him escape. After all, he was foolish enough to cause this entire mess, and they hoped he would blunder again.
Their real targets were the promising officers sent by the Empire's real military. To eliminate them, Cedric had dispatched 20 specially trained soldiers armed with artifacts.
"There were reports that Major General Ayas was killed," Devon said, "but our intelligence indicates he'd already fled."
"Of course." Cedric chuckled as the Field Spells finally ceased, the mages drained of mana.
Soon after, the 3,000 soldiers who had taken part in the night raid were recalled to Fort Kespare. There, they learned that a unit led by Warrant Officer Aria had been caught in the bombardment.
Cedric swiftly ordered promotions and bonuses, cutting off any unrest before it could spread.
Later, this battle would be remembered as Operation Iron Thrust, the night raid carried out by the 9th Corps.
Major General Ayas’ army lost more than 8,000 men and many more injured. Every siege machine was destroyed. The remaining supplies were either seized or burned, and many of the Emavia Empire’s promising officers perished that night.
The greatest contribution came from Warrant Officer Aria, who drew a large portion of the enemy to the front, allowing Lieutenant General Cedric to strike from the rear.
This was the story of the girl who would later be called the Silver Angel, the Fifth Hero of the Shiena Kingdom, and the one who would bring down the supposedly undefeatable Empire.
[(0)]
I woke up in an unfamiliar room, staring at the ceiling. What was it with me and unfamiliar ceilings? First a cell in some underground chamber, then a training room, then the sky, and now this.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“You’re awake.”
I flinched, my fist already flying out. This time, though, I managed to stop myself just in time, freezing beside the comfortable bed I had been lying in. I really didn’t want to punch someone right after waking up.
Turning my head, I saw a man with a cold expression staring down at me. Colonel Devon with his eyes unamused as ever. He didn’t change last time I saw him except for a small bandage covering his left eyebrow.
“I see your regeneration has already done its work,” Devon said. “I will let your earlier behavior slide, considering the role you played in the attack.”
“Um… thank you?” I replied, choosing my words carefully.
“Sir.” Devon eyebrows twitched as he said those words.
“Thank you, sir.”
Devon nodded once and stood up from the stool beside the bed. He placed several things in my hands: documents, a basket of fruit, and a leather pouch that jingled when it moved.
“First,” Devon said, handing me a medal along with a new uniform. “Congratulations. You are confirmed to have slain approximately 700 enemies and injured another 1500.”
I froze. I… killed that many? The memories of the previous night surfaced. While it was barely memorable, I still remembered the battle faintly. It had been… brutal. A faint prick of guilt surfaced, though it barely lingered.
“You have been promoted to First Lieutenant for your bravery,” Devon continued. “While the promotion is unusually rapid, it was deemed appropriate. You led your unit deep into the enemy camp, inflicted heavy losses, and protected your subordinates under extreme conditions. Lieutenant General Cedric, now promoted to General following the operation, regrets that he was unable to attend.”
“Next.” Devon handed me a basket of fruit. “This is a personal gift from Instructor Demo.”
I remembered this basket well. It was the usual reward for me whenever I did a good job. There were two ripe red apples, a peach, a cluster of purple grapes, a slice of banana, and a handful of berries.
None of it had been altered by human hands or artificial means. Instead, the fruit had been influenced by mana, making it sweeter, juicier, and just a little larger than normal.
A small note was tucked inside with a simple “Good job” written on it. Typical.
“Instructor Demo must think highly of you,” Devon said flatly, raising an eyebrow just slightly. “He did not send fruit when I was injured.”
“Um…” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
Still, it felt strange hearing Devon talk about Instructor Demo at all. Their names were similar enough that I would have wondered about it, but the two couldn’t have been more different.
Instructor Demo was busy, bearded, and, most importantly, dirty. He picked his nose, his ears, and even his filthy beard. Sometimes flies would crawl out of it, only for him to swat them down the moment they escaped. He also ate whatever happened to end up in his hands.
Devon, on the other hand, was strict, clean, and rigidly disciplined.
A man who followed rules simply because they existed. He wasn’t the type to suddenly sleep on the floor because he liked it.
“Are you two brothers?” I joked, then immediately remembered myself. “Sir.”
“Yes,” Devon said simply. My jaw dropped until it hit the bed.
“Instructor Demo is my younger brother,” he continued. “By four years.”
My jaw somehow dropped even further. Devon looked young enough to still be in his early twenties(Even though I have no idea how old he was). Instructor Demo, meanwhile, looked like an old grandmother, minus the white hair and beard.
And yet, he was the younger one. I decided to stop thinking about it before my understanding of the world collapsed entirely.
“Finally,” Devon continued. His eyes were noticeably colder now. “You have been rewarded with ten gold coins for… our mistake involving the Field Spells.”
I had no real sense of this world’s currency, but anything involving gold sounded like a lot.
“Thank you, sir,” I replied, offering a sloppy mock salute.
“At ease,” Devon said, nodding once. “And… thank you.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by “thank you”, but he moved on before I could dwell on it.
“And,” Devon added as he stood and headed for the door, “this will be your room from now on.”
I squealed in joy before I could stop myself. The room was huge, bigger than my room back on Earth. A large bed, a table that could seat four, a mirror, a wardrobe, a bookshelf, artifact-powered lighting, and even a bathroom equipped with its own artifacts.
It was more than enough to live comfortably considering it was a fort built for war and technology wasn’t developed well.
“Also,” Devon said from the doorway, “since your condition cannot yet be made public, you will remain here for exactly two weeks while your injuries recover. Meals will be delivered.”
“Wait—what?!” I shouted in despair
The idea was ridiculous. I had managed to hide my regeneration from the last battle only because I hadn’t been seriously injured. That wouldn’t last. In future battles, limbs would be severed, wherever I liked it or not. They would regenerate and everyone would see that I wasn’t human.
“Not everyone is ready,” Devon said, his gaze sharp as if he was reading my thoughts. “People need time to understand.”
Then he closed the door. Just like that, I was confined to the room for the next two weeks.
[(0)]
Colonel Devon exited the room and headed straight for General Cedric's office. The work ahead was already frustrating enough, both Cedric and Instructor Demo had personally asked him to look after Warrant Officer Aria. No, First Lieutenant Aria now.
When Devon arrived, he found the old man humming to himself while working through paperwork. A rare sight, as Cedric hated singing.
"Oh, Devon," Cedric said, waving cheerfully. "How is our little Aria?"
"She's fine." Devon paused, studying him carefully. "I see you have been... cheerful."
"Of course!" Cedric stood suddenly and began tap dancing, slowly, given his age. "We've driven back those Imperials, and Marshal Vespare has managed to send reinforcements."
Marshal Vespera Sinhope commanded the entire military as well as being general of the 1st Corps. She had been fighting on the Eastern Front alongside the 2nd Corps, constantly petitioning the king for reinforcements.
The king had refused every time, insisting they needed more troops in the east and that "Cedric could handle it."
But the recent victory changed everything. Vespare had renewed her pressure on the king, and for reasons Devon didn't fully understand, it had worked. Now over 30,000 soldiers were slowly making their way to Fort Kespare.
"Why don't you celebrate with the others?" Cedric's expression turned mournful. "I can't because there is too much paperwork."
"No thank you, my lord." Devon's tone was cold. "It is bad enough that nearly every officer and soldier is drinking themselves. They should be preparing for the next attack."
The celebration itself was understandable but the money wasn’t. Alcohol had become expensive since trade had been cut off, but morale still needed the boost. Even so, nearly everyone in the fort was drinking day and night. It was starting to interfere with their plans.
"No need to worry." Cedric lit a cigarette with his lighter artifact. "The Imperials have been retreating to Fort Estonal from what I can tell. We have time."
"If it is your wish, my lord." Devon could only sigh as he stared out the window.
[(0)]
“Is this true?”
General Khile, Supreme Commander of the Eleventh and Twelfth Legions of the Emavia Empire, asked, his eyes narrowing.
Khile had once commanded the Twelfth Legion alone. After the commander of the Eleventh was lost in battle, he had been promoted, and was now solely responsible for the invasion of the Shiena Kingdom.
That dual command was the main reason the invasion was slow. Managing a single legion was difficult enough. Commanding two at once was nearly impossible.
But there were larger problems.
The Northern Line had collapsed, and Major General Ayas was… indisposed. He had locked himself in his quarters and refused all contact. Rumors were heard that he was trembling in bed, clutching a stuffed bear.
The worst, however, was the loss of manpower. Many of the Empire’s promising young officers had been dispatched from the military academy to gain experience. However, instead of gaining experience, they had experienced death.
“I’m afraid it’s true,” Colonel Elten, Khile’s aide, replied gravely. “And Duke Ember has refused to send aid.”
Khile closed his eyes briefly. Now he had to stabilize the Northern Line, at all costs. If the 9th Corps joined the main front, the situation would spiral beyond control.
And if General Cedric, the Moon Bringer, entered the battle… That had to be prevented.
“What forces can we redeploy immediately?” Khile asked.
“…Very few, sir,” Elten admitted.
Reinforcements should have come from the Empire itself. But the First through Seventh Legions were tied down elsewhere, while the Eighth, Ninth, and Tenth remained on defense. Which meant the burden fell on him.
“Was there any word from His Majesty?” Khile asked.
A report had already been dispatched via Lightning Bird, faster than Wind Birds, though far more difficult to train, informing the Emperor of Major General Ayas’ defeat.
“His Majesty has been generous and will send us the 5th Knight Brigade, the Storm Crusaders,” Elten said, a hint of pride in his voice. “They’re famous for charging into battle like a raging storm. No matter how strong the enemy is, they’re blown away like paper.”
Khile was slightly surprised. Knight Brigade usually stayed behind to protect the Empire rather than take part in invasions, despite being among its elite forces. They were rarely seen on the battlefield.
That alone spoke volumes of their strength. At least there was good news. With the Storm Crusaders arriving, they could finally redirect troops to the Northern Line and crush the 9th Corps.
Khile considered sending the Second and Third Divisions, saving the Storm Crusaders for the Eastern Line instead. A single knight brigade, usually numbering three to five thousand, could rival the strength of an entire Legion, or more.
Even with the 9th Corps holding the advantage in the north, 50,000 soldiers would be more than enough.
“Send the Second and Third Divisions of the Eleventh Legion. Major General Remnell will take command,” Khile ordered. “Crush the 9th Corps completely, then advance on the front line from their position.”
“Yes, sir.”
Elten bowed and left at once to relay the orders.
Left alone, Khile turned his gaze to the battle map spread across the table.
‘Why would the Moon Bringer take such a risk?’
He had already heard that Cedric was old and couldn’t fight like he used too. If Khile had been in his place, he would have fortified Fort Kespare instead of launching a sneak attack. Someone, or something made Cedric’s mind.
He would have his answer soon enough.
Khile moved a piece toward Fort Ernmore, the stronghold currently held by the Shiena Kingdom’s 5th Corps, then calmly swept their markers aside, replacing them with his own.
