Content Warning: This chapter contains graphic violence and body horror.
The sun was already nearing its highest point in the sky.
The last shadows of morning had vanished from the plains.
And the war continued.
Blood covered the earth.
Broken shields lay scattered among the bodies.
The air carried the smell of iron and death.
Cries echoed from one end of the field to the other.
"Hold the formation!"
"Shields forward!"
"Do not open gaps!"
The southern front burned beneath the weight of battle.
The clash of steel echoed without end.
Men fell.
Others took their places before the bodies even touched the ground.
The Northern lines endured.
But every meter was paid for in blood.
In the distance, León advanced through the men.
His blade appeared.
Disappeared.
Wherever he passed, the enemy advance slowed.
Even so, the pressure never ceased.
It was like trying to hold back a tide with bare hands.
Hours had passed since the fighting began.
And every minute seemed to demand more blood than the last.
Far beyond the reach of the lines.
Sèsinmè watched.
Mounted atop a white horse.
Motionless.
Her eyes swept across the battlefield as though searching for something invisible to everyone else.
The wind slowly moved her hair.
No emotion crossed her face.
No concern.
No urgency.
Only observation.
The sound of approaching hooves rose behind her.
Sèsinmè did not turn.
She remained watching the field.
A few moments later, another horse stopped beside her.
"Lady Sèsinmè."
The voice was firm.
Controlled.
"It has already been hours since the fighting began."
A brief pause.
"We have lost nearly two thousand men trying to contain their advance."
The eyes of the newcomer remained on the field.
"If it were not for Master León..."
She watched another row collapse in the distance.
"I believe our lines would already have been destroyed."
The wind crossed through the ranks behind them.
For a few seconds, only the sounds of war answered.
Sèsinmè spoke.
Calm.
Serene.
"Tell me, Ryou."
At last her eyes left the field.
Turning toward the young knight beside her.
Ryou remained motionless.
Her slender body carried the lightness of someone built for speed.
Not brute strength.
Her black hair, short and straight, ended near her neck.
Moving softly beneath the wind.
Her dark eyes remained fixed on the battlefield.
Cold.
Difficult to read.
Her pale skin contrasted against the ivory-white armor of the Order of the White Dragons.
Unlike the heavy armor worn by many knights.
Hers had been adapted for maximum mobility.
The breastplate fit close against her body without restricting movement.
Small pauldrons protected her shoulders.
Light gauntlets covered her hands.
Segmented protections reinforced waist, hips, and legs.
Resting across her back were two Landsknecht Katzbalgers.
Wide blades.
Robust.
Made for killing at close range.
The wind gently moved the white cloak marked with the symbol of the White Dragon.
No emotion appeared on her face.
No unease.
As though the thousands of men dying before her were merely another inevitable part of war.
Only then did Sèsinmè speak:
"What do you see?"
Ryou's eyes swept across the lines.
"Men dying."
A brief pause.
"And ours are dying faster than theirs."
"What leads me to question why we are still keeping men in reserve."
Her eyes shifted toward Sèsinmè.
"While our soldiers die."
"And our formations collapse one after another."
A small smile appeared on Sèsinmè's lips.
Not a smile of satisfaction.
"Curious."
Her eyes returned to the field.
"You looked at thousands of men..."
"And still saw only those who are dying."
The wind slowly moved her hair.
"I look at the same field."
"And all I can see are those who have not yet arrived."
Ryou remained silent.
Her eyes returned to the battlefield.
A distant note crossed the plains.
Low.
Melancholic.
Almost imperceptible beneath the sounds of war.
Sèsinmè slightly raised her gaze.
Then slowly dismounted from the horse.
Her boots touched the scarred earth.
Her fingers touched the neck of the white horse.
"Go."
The mount turned and began moving away from the field.
The wind slowly moved her hair.
"Ryou."
Sèsinmè's silver-gray eyes met those of the young knight.
"How many men do you believe stand on this field?"
Ryou looked toward the horizon.
"Tens of thousands."
Sèsinmè nodded.
"And how many of them will be remembered when this war ends?"
Ryou's silence answered.
"Remember this — paths are not built by crowds."
"They are built by those rare individuals capable of changing them."
Her eyes returned to the battle.
"Today, thousands will die."
"And even so, the fate of this field will be decided by only a few."
The distant note echoed again.
This time, a little closer.
"Choose carefully which paths you will follow from this moment onward, Ryou."
Without waiting for an answer.
Sèsinmè began to walk.
Step after step.
Toward the southern front.
The soldiers still fought.
Cries.
Steel.
Blood.
Then she accelerated.
The ground sank beneath the force.
Stones exploded backward.
Her body launched forward.
Like a spear being thrown.
The distance vanished.
The first soldiers did not even understand what they were seeing.
They only felt the pressure of the air change.
An abandoned spear stood embedded among corpses.
Sèsinmè passed by it.
Her hand descended.
Her fingers closed around the shaft.
Without slowing.
The weapon ripped free from the ground.
Spinning together with her body.
The first soldier tried to raise his shield.
Too late.
The end of the spear struck the edge of the protection.
Not to pierce it.
To rip it out of the way.
The impact hurled the man into his own companions.
Sèsinmè entered through the opening created.
The spearpoint thrust forward.
A throat was pierced.
The body was still falling when the shaft spun between her fingers.
Changing direction.
Changing reach.
Changing target.
A second soldier tried to intercept her.
The blade of his sword found only emptiness.
The spearpoint emerged beneath his arm.
Piercing through the joint of his armor.
The man collapsed.
Another charged from the right.
Sèsinmè did not evade.
She advanced.
Took the center of the trajectory.
The opposite end of the spear crushed the knight's face.
Bone shattered.
Teeth scattered through the air.
She kept advancing.
Arkhel's formation began to come apart.
Men retreated.
Tried to open space.
Tried to understand where she had come from.
Too late.
The spear carved another arc.
This time wider.
Faster.
Bodies were thrown backward.
Shields spun across the ground.
Arkhel's line opened up like torn fabric.
But the silver-gray eyes remained calm.
As though she were merely walking.
In the distance.
León opened space between the men with a single strike.
His blade brought down two soldiers.
The third retreated.
That was when he saw the white blur cutting through the line.
For an instant.
He did not recognize who it was.
Then the spear spun again.
And five men were thrown to the ground.
León's eyes narrowed.
"Lady Sèsinmè?"
Sèsinmè stopped beside him the next instant.
The impact of her arrival sent dust rising around them.
The spear rested in her hand.
Stained with blood.
"I thought you would remain with the reserve."
León's voice carried more surprise than reproach.
Sèsinmè watched the men ahead.
The screams.
The blood.
The chaos.
As though none of it truly mattered.
"Lord León."
The wind crossed the field.
The distant note echoed again.
Closer.
Clearer.
Her eyes turned toward the horizon.
"I fear the battle we have been fighting until now..."
A brief pause.
"is about to end."
León frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
Before he could receive an answer—
BOOOOOOOM!
A thunderous impact crossed the plains.
The ground vibrated beneath the soldiers' feet.
Shields trembled.
Horses neighed.
Even the fighting slowed for an instant.
León lifted his head.
"What was that?"
"It came from the western front."
Sèsinmè's answer was immediate.
Her eyes remained fixed elsewhere.
"Do not worry."
León followed her gaze.
Among Arkhel's soldiers.
One man had stopped fighting.
The sword slipped from his fingers.
Both hands clutched his own face.
His body trembled.
Violently.
León narrowed his eyes.
"What is wrong with him?"
Sèsinmè watched the man for a few seconds.
Like someone observing something inevitable.
"We are about to find out."
At that instant—
The man dropped to his knees.
His hands still clutching his own face.
Harder.
The veins in his neck bulged beneath the skin.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"
The scream tore across the battlefield.
Brutal.
Primitive.
Like the roar of something that should never exist.
Soldiers from both sides turned their heads.
The man lifted his face.
His eyes had vanished beneath a layer of ruptured vessels.
Blood poured from his mouth.
From his nostrils.
From his ears.
An Arkhel soldier spoke:
"What the hell...?"
The man lunged.
Against his own allies.
The Arkhel soldier did not even have time to react.
Teeth sank into his throat.
Blood exploded.
Cries echoed.
The man tore away a piece of flesh.
Chewing.
Like a starving animal.
Horror spread through the ranks.
"Hold him!"
"What happened to that bastard?!"
"Kill him!"
Three spears thrust forward at the same time.
One pierced his chest.
Another drove through his abdomen.
The third burst out through his back.
The man was lifted from the ground.
Blood streamed down the shafts.
For an instant.
It seemed over.
The silence lasted only a second.
Soon something cracked.
CRACK.
Then another.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
The soldiers froze.
The pierced body began to swell.
Muscles expanded beneath the skin.
Violently.
Like something trying to escape from inside him.
The spears began to bend.
Flesh tore apart.
Bones deformed.
Arms expanded.
Ribs projected outward.
The skin split open in dozens of places.
Blood and fragments of flesh scattered through the air.
"Fall back!"
"FALL BACK!"
No one managed to finish the order.
The body exploded.
Not into pieces.
But into growth.
Like a creature being forced out of a prison far too small.
The figure rose.
Taller.
Wider.
More monstrous.
Its shoulders became colossal.
Its arms thickened until they resembled the trunks of ancient trees.
Twisted bone spikes erupted from its back.
Its skin took on a grayish-white color.
Uneven.
Sickly.
Its head sank between monstrous shoulders.
The eyes.
Small.
Deeply buried.
Slowly opened.
And stared across the battlefield.
The jaw projected forward.
Revealing rows of broad teeth.
Broken.
Made for crushing bones.
The creature took a step.
BOOM.
The ground gave way.
Another.
BOOM.
The earth trembled again.
It lifted its head toward the sky.
And roared.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
This time.
The entire field heard it.
"No..."
León's eyes widened.
For the first time since the battle began, his voice failed.
"That is impossible."
Another roar echoed in the distance.
Then another.
And another.
Coming from different points across the plains.
León's face turned pale.
"The ogres..."
His eyes remained fixed on the creature.
"Just like the dragons."
A brief pause.
"They were supposed to be dead."
The wind crossed the field.
"All of those creatures should have vanished during the War of the Hundred."
"Erased from history."
The creature advanced.
A soldier raised his shield.
The monstrous arm came down.
The shield.
The man.
And the ground behind him.
Everything was crushed in the same blow.
Blood exploded across the field.
Another man tried to flee.
The colossal jaw closed around his waist.
CRUNCH.
Bones snapped.
Flesh vanished between the teeth.
And the creature kept devouring.
Hungry.
Sèsinmè watched the creature without the slightest sign of surprise.
As though she were merely confirming something she already knew.
"Lord León..."
Her eyes remained on the field.
Another roar echoed in the distance.
This time from another front.
Then another.
And another.
The ground began to vibrate beneath the feet of the men.
"From this moment onward..."
A brief pause.
"This war will no longer be decided by men."
León remained silent.
"Then do not waste your life trying to save those who can no longer be saved."
Her silver-gray eyes slowly shifted toward the horizon.
"All the paths I can see from here..."
The wind crossed the plains.
"End in blood."
Sèsinmè slowly spun the spear between her fingers.
The steel traced a perfect circle.
Her gaze remained fixed on the creature.
Calm.
Unshaken.
Soon, she began to walk.
Toward the monster.
Without hesitation.
Without hurry.
Around her, the war seemed to slowly descend into chaos.
But her eyes remained calm.