The heavy snowfall pressed down on the plain. Across the endless expanse there was no suitable terrain to hide from the snow, so the group simply sat huddled around the fire, blankly watching the falling flakes and the sparks leaping upward.
Yet neither their bodies nor the firewood became wet.
Psh-sh-shht —
That was because every snowflake that touched the thunder barrier raised by Tarsha evaporated without cease. Amid the steam and the silence, Tarsha was the first to speak.
— Senior... what are you planning to do now?
Cheonmae did not answer. She stood motionless, only staring into the snowstorm with narrowed eyes. A tense calculation was running through her mind.
The moment news came that something had happened to Gunther, she had thrown away pride and decorum and immediately sent out a magic crow.
Though Cheonmae prided herself on her strength more than anyone else, in a situation where all of Valloren had fallen into enemy hands, the stubborn desire to handle everything alone was an impermissible luxury. A messenger flying twenty-four hours a day without sleep or rest should by now have safely reached Border City.
“...Moon Wolf will come.”
Grand Crow would personally give the order. Gunther’s value was that high. Most likely, she would arrive aboard the Black Cloud, bringing the five strongest available personnel units with her.
“But even in the best case, that will take two days...”
At the moment they were stationed near Barkel’s outer wall, waiting for Ryan and Levain. If those fools showed up at the estate without knowing anything, even the sacred relics they had fought so hard to obtain would be taken from them.
There was only one conclusion. Cheonmae looked at the junior squad members waiting for her answer.
— Theoretically, it would be a hundred times more correct to wait for reinforcements and act together to rescue Gunther.
They were few in number, and to raise the odds of victory they needed to gather as many people as possible. Fortunately, because of the ongoing blizzard, the enemy was also tied hand and foot. The situation allowed them to wait. But for some reason... her heart was unsettled.
Do they really have no countermeasures, knowing a Night Raven escaped? Aren’t we giving the enemy extra time to regroup? And above all—it is said that the more time passes, the harder it becomes to remove the brainwashing. Cheonmae drew in a breath and continued:
— However, sitting here doing nothing is not our style.
The faces of the squad members lit by the campfire visibly brightened. Cheonmae swept her gaze over them and chose one.
— You and I are going on reconnaissance. The rest of you wait here for the others.
She finished the sentence while drawing the bowstring.
— We need to see what state that damned junior is in... and it’ll put your minds at ease too.
***
The battlefield was heating up. Through the snowstorm, the clash of metal and furious shouts could be heard clearly. Gunther stood atop the crest of the outer wall and looked down.
A great many people had gathered there. Among them were armored knights and regular soldiers, but there were also many who lacked proper equipment. Militiamen who had come running on frostbitten feet, people carrying weapons converted from farm tools, or those who had simply grabbed the first thing at hand.
For people who had come to assault Barkel’s outer wall—a supposedly impregnable fortress—they did not even have proper siege weapons. Though in weather like this, those would have been impossible to operate anyway.
That was when Gunther realized it quickly. They had not come here to storm the outer wall. They had simply... rushed here.
“Why.”
The reason was obvious.
Using their barely saved lives as fuel, they had come to save their lord, save their comrades... and protect us, their saviors.
Good people. Gunther wanted to turn away from the sight, but his mana-enhanced vision was cruelly clear. Familiar faces emerged one after another through the veil of snow.
The old knight he had freed from the Cult of Repose’s brainwashing with Sanity during the journey. The face that had smiled joyfully and bowed, saying he would be able to return to his family. The young soldier who had scratched the back of his head in embarrassment and said he missed his fiancée. There were also those who had fought beside him in the estate two days ago and somehow managed to flee beyond the borders of the territory.
Chivalry. The land of chivalry. A place where people do not turn away from those in trouble, where helping those crying for salvation in the middle of a crisis is considered a mission.
Piiiiiiiii—
The clogged sensation returned to his ears again, as if water had gotten into them. A shrill ringing followed. And immediately after, the voice he had heard only recently echoed in his head once more.
“Shall we trust it completely? I’m curious how Gunther really fights.”
A sickening notification sound rang out.
Tiling!
[Buff: “Sweet Repose”]
-Your response to pain becomes abnormally low.
-Self-preservation instinct is deactivated.
-An effect reducing incoming damage is applied.
[Buff: “Static Frenzy”]
-The body relaxes, and consciousness becomes fluid, as if sinking into deep water.
-Freed from the burden of decision-making, movements become even more concise.
-Combat efficiency increases, stamina consumption decreases.
[Buff: “Hierarch’s Order”]
-The complicated flow of thought is arranged into one.
Crunch-crunch-crunch!
Gunther’s body, dressed only in ordinary clothes, gradually became covered in charcoal-black steel armor. The moment the visor lowered and his field of vision narrowed, Gunther thought. His mind had not yet been consumed. Of that, he was certain. The status messages surfacing before him were merely control over the flesh. His thoughts still belonged to him.
So Gunther thought. As long as the flow of thought had not been severed, he knew that even in this horrifying situation he had to seek the best possible option. Because he was “Gunther.”
Piiiiiiiiii—
And, as always, realization came quickly. The very first thing he had to do now was “Justification.”
A regressor must protect his psyche above all else. Once regression begins, everything returns to its proper place, but the regressor’s mind does not go backward.
If the psyche collapses, it is over. So it had to be protected.
“Justification...”
These people standing before the wall and shouting beneath his feet were weak. In the end, they were forces that would fall under the Cult of Repose’s brainwashing and become enemies.
The Save Point had been set long ago anyway. Once he returned, it would be as though none of this had happened.
And above all, he had been prepared for this from the moment he fell under the brainwashing. If he endured this moment, he would once again be able to gather precious information from the heart of the enemy camp.
Piiiiiiii—
“I need to protect my sanity.” “When I return, this won’t exist.” “They are weak.” “They are future forces for the brainwashing anyway.”
Too noisy.
— ...It’s Sir Gan! Sir Gan!
The instant his consciousness blinked for a moment, Gunther realized he had jumped down from the outer wall.
...The reinforcements, recognizing the armor, rushed toward him in a crowd. They hurried to confirm the safety of the savior who had freed them from mental domination.
— Are you alright?
— We came for you. What’s the situation inside?!
— The Lord and the other knights...
Chivalry. That strange habit of looking at others before yourself while standing in the very center of danger. ...Why?
— Sir Gan!!
— S-something’s wrong. Keep your distance!
— ...What?
— I said step back immediately!
Piiiiiiii—
The surrounding sounds instantly receded, as if he had sunk into deep water. The blizzard, the shouting, the footsteps all became unclear. Only the sharp ringing in his ears remained distinct, and—
“I need to protect my sanity.” “When I return, this won’t exist.” “They are weak.” “They are future forces for the brainwashing anyway.”
Only the quiet whisper repeating over and over.
Click —
The sound of the sword hilt locking into his armored gauntlet was unnaturally clear.
.
.
.
— Block him! Block him!
— O-our attacks aren’t working! That flame, that flame!!!
— S-Sir Gan is heading toward the ranged unit! Everyone scatter!
— A-a-a-a-a!
Scarlet Flame erupted, and white steam burst upward with a roar. Remesia, watching the battlefield from the tower of the outer wall, narrowed her eyes and muttered:
— Oh... is that the Flame of Eternal Torment? Where did he get that?
How could one person have so many secrets? She was dying to cut him open and study him as soon as possible. Eyes shining, Remesia leaned halfway over the edge of the wall.
Unfortunately, the view was murky. The blizzard and the steam blended together, erasing every outline. Only chaotic screams came from below.
— Hmm, I can’t quite tell, but Gunther is clearly having the time of his life.
The corners of her lips slowly curled upward. Remesia was an expert in brainwashing.
She knew perfectly well how to shatter the barriers of a person like Gunther, someone who valued goodness. The more a person had pursued goodness throughout life, the more hopelessly they collapsed the moment they were forced to commit evil. Desperate “Justification” would follow, an attempt to excuse oneself, and that ugly justification would soon create a horrifying rupture with the ideal they had always pursued.
The struggle to preserve one’s sanity, to preserve the validity of the life one had lived, in truth destroyed the subject from within.
Smiling, Remesia turned her gaze to the side.
— So, how does it feel?
Rem. The embodiment of Remesia. She could not understand why the original had dragged her here and forced her to watch this spectacle. It had been the same at the estate.
From the moment she came into contact with Remesia in the underground chamber and shared “information and memories,” Remesia had begun acting extremely strangely toward her.
“Even the fact that she didn’t destroy me once I was no longer needed.”
Remesia was acting strange. But it was impossible to resist the order of the original. Rem obediently laid out her honest feelings.
— I feel strange somehow. I think I feel bad.
Rem’s fingers twitched.
— I feel sorry for him.
— ...Oh, don’t make me laugh, seriously.
Remesia burst into laughter and looked back down at the battlefield. Then, amidst the chaotic noise, she picked out the clear cries of those calling upon chivalry and raised an eyebrow.
— Ha, and even at a time like this—chivalry.
— Do you... know what chivalry is?
At the unexpected question, Remesia’s eyes widened. For the double to ask the first question was completely out of the ordinary. With an expression mixed with mockery and curiosity, she turned toward Rem.
The sight of two girls standing face-to-face before a bloody battlefield, alike as twins, was rather striking. Remesia answered:
— No? Not really. I’m not interested. But I do know it’s no different from a kind of brainwashing.
Rem’s eyes trembled.
— What does that mean?
— Foolish girl. How did something this stupid come out of me?
Remesia replied with a smirk, as if she had been waiting for that exact question.
— The moment your head is about to be cut off, thinking of others first, valuing another’s life more than your own... do you really think that’s possible by a person’s own free will? That’s not instinct. Someone created it and implanted it.
Remesia’s gaze fell onto the battlefield. Contempt and cold analysis mixed within it.
— From childhood, it’s hammered into you dozens, hundreds, thousands of times that this is how you must act. It’s engraved into the body through training, behavior is regulated through praise and punishment, and the heart is bound by oaths and symbols.
A chuckle followed.
— If that isn’t called brainwashing, then what is? Honestly, it’s laughable—living your whole life under mental control and believing only my brainwashing is bad...
Rem unconsciously shook her head.
— That’s not what Gunther said. Gunther said chivalry means doing what you yourself believe is right.
In an instant, Remesia’s face froze. She knew what Rem was talking about. The memories of Gunther and Rem’s conversation in the tent were hers as well.
— ...Believing it’s right? What nonsense. It’s just beautifully packaged obedience to an implanted program without unnecessary thought.
— Just like us?
— ......
Remesia’s lips froze. Rem quietly continued:
— And Gunther?
There was neither challenge nor calculation in Rem’s expression. Only curiosity.
Rem had seen Gunther. A person who, without any orders, had tried to save others on his own and made difficult choices despite the pain.
— Did Gunther also act that way because someone ordered him to, or implanted a program?
In the silence that followed, Rem’s thin voice rang clearly in Remesia’s ears.
— T-that...
Unwilling to admit that a mere double had left her speechless, Remesia frantically searched for words to refute it and...
“Ah?”
Suddenly froze.
...Silence? Quiet? Why had it suddenly become so quiet?
Tap —
Remesia hurriedly rushed to the parapet. Rem followed after her. Only then did both of them see it.
At the center, where Scarlet Flame was raging.
Gunther, controlled by the brainwashing. Gunther, who had been mercilessly attacking the reinforcements. He had frozen one step away from someone who had fallen.
As if he had run into an invisible wall, his body had gone rigid, his shoulders trembling. Scarlet Flame churned around him, but even the fire itself wavered as though it had lost direction. His shaking hand dragged the blade of the sword against the ground, producing a metallic scrape.
— ...Ah?
The tips of Remesia’s fingers trembled. It was obvious Gunther could not remain in that state for long. In a few seconds, he would bring the greatsword crashing down on that soldier again. This hesitation was no more than a fleeting rebellion. The power of the brainwashing had not weakened in the slightest. But for Remesia, it was not this “result” that mattered.
— How is this even...
At the very height of a situation where someone who had followed goodness was forced into evil. Amid those monstrous emotions, he had chosen not “Justification,” but resistance. An inexplicable choice. In Remesia’s voice there was no longer curiosity, mockery, arrogance, or even anger. Only an unfamiliar feeling, an unexplainable anxiety, was circling within her. Rem carefully looked at Remesia like that.
— ...So, how does it feel?
.
.
.
Cheonmae watched with narrowed eyes, shifting her gaze between the top of the wall and the very center of the battlefield. A sigh rang out, carrying the weight of a decision made.
Creeeak—
The fully drawn bowstring of the greatbow trembled faintly.
[“Noonday Arrow” is preparing for a sniper shot]
