At the base of Wall Maria, the Survey Corps rode in, caked in dust.
Wounds were visible to the naked eye—whether in the saddle or laid out in wagons, almost everyone was hurt.
Unlike a few weeks earlier, when they'd set out high-spirited and full of fight, that bravado now looked like a joke.
Titans were simply too terrifying.
Their detailed training had meant nothing.
The Titans' pressure—the fear that reached into a person's core—couldn't be erased by experience, couldn't be prepared for. And all that "experience" was just chopping at wooden targets dressed with pork. Targets that never moved. No challenge. Nothing like the real enemy—Titans.
Some couldn't understand why Titans weren't the dull brutes they'd imagined. Weren't Titans supposed to lack intellect?
That, precisely, was what made them terrifying.
Too many unknowns. Humanity's understanding of them was pitifully small.
The lightly wounded supported the gravely wounded; the gravely wounded clung to life and drove the wagons of the dead.
The carts jolted, corpses tumbling off now and then.
The driver shouted back for the badly injured soldier assigned to watch the bodies to check it out.
When they finally stopped to gather the fallen, the "watcher"—a grievously wounded man who had been sitting upright—slumped like a discarded sack and slid off the wagon.
"Hey!"
Someone yelled.
No response.
They lifted him. His skin was icy.
He'd already died—by choice.
Both legs had been bitten off, one arm shattered. Even if he recovered, he'd be a cripple with no place in society.
The bandages had staunched the blood, but he'd lost the will to live.
What was the point of living? What use was he?
The darkness in his heart pushed him into despair.
He'd driven a blade through his own heart and ended it.
Erwin led his battered remnant, dragging their steps in tired silence.
From horseback, he didn't look toward the Scorpio Corps, who had already reached Wall Maria.
"Commander, should we give them a wide berth?"
Mike urged his horse up alongside, asking quietly.
He was unscathed, but everyone around him—his entire squad—was covered in wounds, their fighting spirit gone.
"No need,"
Erwin said, voice low.
He'd failed; he would face that fact. He wouldn't run.
Mike grimaced, about to speak—then his nostrils twitched.
A strange smell.
"Titan stench."
Mike's face changed. He grabbed Erwin's reins to fix his attention.
"Commander! Titans on our tail!"
Numb from too many shocks, Erwin didn't doubt him. He gave the order at once.
"All units disperse! Find cover!"
His signaler, Rico, whipped out a flare gun and fired skyward.
Bang!!
Covering her ears, she sent a red trail hissing up, a gash of color across the sky.
"You've got to be kidding…"
"More Titans?!"
"I'm so tired…"
Tired or not, the will to live made them jerk their reins and drive for cover.
The warhorses were exhausted. They'd run almost nonstop the whole way, never allowed a rest.
Mind and body spent, still forced on by the riders on their backs.
One by one, horses refused their riders, bucked them off, and bolted.
"Hey! Come back!!"
Whistles shrilled, each sharper than the last. Not a single horse turned.
Then the Titans arrived.
Five of them, big and small, trudging along. The moment they saw humans moving, they veered toward them.
Slow as they were, the humans broke.
Formations shattered; armor and resolve both fell away as everyone scrambled to survive.
Erwin was the only fixed point. Many riders converged on him and charged in one direction.
Levi saw it, and drew the steel from his ODM scabbards—
Only to find every blade was snapped. One remained, but even that had lost its edge.
Too dull.
Even a nape strike would land like a clubbing blow.
Forget hurting a Titan; he'd be lucky not to get himself killed.
But now—
Someone had to stand up.
"Tch. Running is all you know?"
Levi looked with disgust at the fleeing soldiers. He respected the urge to live, but their lack of any will to sacrifice for the whole baffled him.
So this is what it comes down to—one touch and you crumble?
The Scorpio Corps' elite standards made the Survey Corps look unbearable to him.
The recruits were too weak. Without a handful of veterans holding the line, they'd have been wiped out already.
Shff.
With that, Levi stopped hesitating.
He chose to be the decoy. He spurred his horse straight against the flow to draw the five Titans off.
In the distance—
Atop Wall Maria—
Roger Eikam had just managed the climb. He bit into an apple, about to savor the Survey Corps' plight, when he spotted a lone rider cutting against the tide, charging the Titans.
He focused.
"Levi."
The apple stopped halfway to his mouth. His smile faded.
Because he saw what Levi held in his hand…
"A fire poker?"
He took one last bite, split the apple in half, and handed the untouched side to Tours Beak.
"Here. Don't waste it. I'm going to lend a hand."
"Oh. Okay."
Tours took a bite and nodded.
Roger stepped off the wall, bit into his palm, and—amid drifting drops of blood—unleashed a burst of blazing platinum light.
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