The Living and the Dead

The undead army's assault changed subtly the moment Aura appeared.

The headless soldiers, who had previously charged in silence, suddenly seemed to have received clearer orders, and their attack grew more coordinated. Some continued fighting Himmel and Eisen, while others began circling around, trying to divide the battlefield and isolate Heiter and Ruby.

But what truly froze the atmosphere on the battlefield was Aura herself, descending from the sky.

Like a feather, she landed lightly on the fallen leaves, her black, form-fitting armor raising little dust. Her deep blue eyes surveyed the battlefield with interest before settling on Himmel—or, more precisely, on his fighting style, made especially strenuous by his efforts to avoid damaging the corpses.

"Oh?" Aura tilted her head, her short pink hair shifting slightly in the light filtering through the gaps in the trees. She looked like a child who had discovered a novel toy. "Hero, why aren't you fighting seriously?"

Her voice was clear and bright, carrying an ease utterly at odds with the brutal battle around her.

Himmel had just deftly deflected a soldier's rusty sword and knocked him down with the hilt of his own. Hearing her, he steadied himself on his sword, breathing a little faster. His armor was covered in grime and scratches, and his bangs were soaked with sweat. He did look somewhat worse for wear. But he stood straight and met Aura's gaze.

"Because attacking without restraint would hurt them," Himmel said, his voice a little hoarse with exhaustion but clear and firm. "I don't want to do that."

"Hurt them?" Aura's crimson eyes curved as though she had heard a ridiculous joke, though there was little amusement in them. "Are your companions in the undead army? Old friends? Family?"

"No." Himmel shook his head.

"Then why?" Aura spread her hands and gestured at the soldiers around them, charging silently with their limbs broken. Her tone held genuine puzzlement and a trace of almost imperceptible mockery. "It doesn't matter whether they're your companions, does it? Isn't that a concern that only applies to living humans? Can't you tell?"

She raised her voice slightly, as if making a display of it.

"Can't you tell? Every one of them has been dead for a long time."

Her words were like a cold stone dropped into water.

Ruby was using a weakened version of Wind Pressure to push back several approaching soldiers. Hearing this, she paused and looked at the walking corpses, her little face turning slightly pale. Heiter's recitation of his prayers faltered for a moment too. Eisen, meanwhile, gave a loud snort and swung his axe even harder, as if trying to cut through some invisible frustration along with them.

Himmel's hair seemed to stir slightly with his surging emotions, but the anger Aura expected did not appear on his face. Instead, a profound, almost compassionate expression slowly came over his young yet weathered face.

"So that's how it is," Himmel said softly. His voice was almost drowned out by the clash of weapons, yet strangely clear. "Demons... don't have a tradition of honoring the dead, do they?"

"Honoring the dead?" Aura repeated, frowning slightly.

She knew the term. She had heard it from dying or dead humans and seen descriptions of it in captured human books. "That pointless business of dressing the dead up nicely and burying them in the ground? What's the point of doing that? A corpse is a corpse. It's material, a tool. Humans really are a race that loves pointless work."

"It isn't pointless."

Slowly, but with absolute resolve, Himmel raised his sword again. Its blade reflected the broken daylight in the forest, as well as the blazing light in his eyes.

"We mourn the dead and remember that they once lived so that we can carry on their unfinished will, so that their sacrifices and their existence won't simply be erased. Human history, the spark of civilization—that's how they've been passed down, stumbling but stubbornly, through countless farewells to the dead and acts of remembrance."

His gaze swept over the soldiers in their various kinds of battered armor, who might have come from different eras and different lands. A heavy yet warm strength entered his voice.

"They may have been warriors who guarded the borders, heroes who protected their homelands, people who lived and fought for some belief, just as I do. Even if their heads are gone and their bodies are being used, the dignity they once had as 'people' shouldn't be trampled on like this. It doesn't matter whether they're alive or dead now, or whether I knew them. This is simply... the most basic respect the living owe the dead."

A wind passed through the forest, stirring a few dead leaves with a rustle, as if silently adding a footnote to his words.

Ruby looked up at Himmel's profile. At that moment, her hero big brother's upright figure seemed to be shrouded in a soft yet steadfast halo amid the mottled light filtering through the branches and leaves.

Her emerald eyes widened involuntarily, reflecting Himmel's figure clearly. Her little mouth fell slightly open as she forgot the threats around her. Her gaze sparkled with pure admiration and emotion, as though she had looked up at the night sky and seen its brightest star.

"Big Brother Himmel..." she murmured unconsciously.

On the other side of the battlefield, in a relatively "leisurely" area.

Frieren had just made five or six soldiers freeze and slowly collapse once again. Hearing him, she stopped preparing her next spell, obvious confusion appearing on her face.

"Respect the dead?" She tilted her head toward Lowell, who was nearby. Her pointed elven ear twitched almost imperceptibly.

"Aren't they already dead? Having their corpses used is unpleasant, but why waste extra effort and mana on it? It's too inefficient." Her thinking remained direct and pragmatic, reflecting a certain "practical" perspective born of an elf's long life.

Lowell had casually tripped several soldiers approaching from the side with a few precise threads of mana. Hearing her, he sighed softly. He walked over to Frieren and raised a hand, naturally brushing aside a strand of white hair that had been disheveled by her earlier movements. The gesture was as familiar as if he had done it thousands of times.

"Listen to him, Frieren." Lowell's voice was quiet, carrying its usual gentleness and a touch of resignation, but Frieren heard him clearly. "His way of thinking is a little naive, even... excessively idealistic, you could say. In this world, being merciful to your enemies is often cruel to yourself."

He paused and looked over the silent soldiers who kept pouring in. A faint trace of complicated emotion passed deep in his eyes, one Frieren might have understood.

"But if you have enough strength to back up that naivety and bear the additional risks it might bring... then perhaps there's nothing wrong with staying naive like that. At least it keeps the battle from becoming an utterly unrestrained slaughter. Besides..."

His voice grew lower, until almost only Frieren could hear him.

"Most of these people were probably heroes who fought the demons until their final moments. Having their bodies driven like this after death is indeed... unpleasant."

Frieren watched Himmel, still trying amid the encirclement to avoid the vital points of the corpses and use gentler methods to lay them to "rest." She watched his persistence, so at odds with the elven principle of putting efficiency first.

She looked at Lowell again. The emotion in his eyes was not entirely beyond her understanding: a mixture of approval, resignation, and perhaps a trace of... nostalgia?

She blinked her emerald-green eyes, seemingly calculating and weighing something in her mind. A few seconds later, she seemed to reach a conclusion.

"Efficiency will decrease," Frieren said in a matter-of-fact tone, but she had already changed the way mana flowed through her staff. "But since you say so, we'll do it that way."

Because she could not use overly powerful magic, she had to cast spells more frequently, but the bodies of the fallen soldiers were left relatively intact.

Seeing this, the corners of Lowell's mouth curved almost imperceptibly.

But at that moment, almost all the real pressure fell on Himmel, Heiter, Eisen, and Ruby.

Although Frieren and Lowell supported them by controlling the soldiers from the sidelines, they faced hundreds upon thousands of undead who knew neither fatigue nor pain, many of whom had been masters of martial combat in life. Fighting with their hands "tied" like this made the task exponentially harder.

Himmel's sword remained precise, but every block, deflection, and takedown cost him several times the mental and physical effort of killing. His breathing grew heavier, and sweat kept running down his temples.

Eisen swung his battle axe like the wind, but he had to restrain his mountain-splitting, rock-shattering strength to just enough to disable his opponents without excessively damaging their bodies. It was an immense test of his control. The dwarf warrior's arm muscles were already bulging, his veins standing out.

Heiter frequently cast holy light healing spells on Himmel and Eisen, while also swinging his fists to repel soldiers who came close. Sweat appeared on his forehead too. Clearly, although he could strengthen himself with mana, he was not adept at hand-to-hand combat.

Ruby's magic became an important means of controlling the battlefield and providing ranged support. She constantly calculated how to cast her spells with the least mana and the greatest effect, her little face turning slightly pale from the drain on both her mana and her energy.

The battle had become an exceptionally grueling struggle. The four were like rocks amid raging waves: solid, but under immense pressure at every moment, their defensive line pushed to the brink several times.

High above, Aura watched at her leisure. Her gaze rested mainly on Eisen—the dwarf warrior's destructive power was the most obvious of the four, and he inflicted the greatest "losses" on the undead army.

"That should be enough." Her red lips parted in a cold, confident smile.

She elegantly raised her right hand, palm upward. Strange mana began to gather and take shape in her hand, not as offensive energy, but as a small, delicate set of scales. Both pans were empty, but it seemed as though something heavy lay on one side.

The scales—The Scales of Obedience.

It was the magic Aura had spent her life refining to its utmost. Its central rule was simple and cruel: the caster's mana and the target's were placed on opposite sides of the scales, and the one with less mana would obey the one with more unconditionally. With Aura's vast mana reserves, unmatched among demons, it was a spell that almost guaranteed victory.

She locked onto Eisen, who was roaring as he cleaved through three soldiers. The spectral scales trembled slightly, and an invisible bond of mana was about to reach out and connect to him.

At that critical moment—

A faint, almost imperceptible sound sliced through the air and arrived from the flank of the battlefield in an instant, far faster than an ordinary magic projectile!

"Sht!"

A faint sound.

The scales in Aura's palm jolted and fell to the ground. At the wrist of her raised right hand, a small hole appeared soundlessly in her black sleeve. A hair-thin line of blood surfaced, followed by a deeper wound, as though cut by an invisible blade. It was not serious, but it precisely interrupted the construction of her spell and brought a sharp sting.

"What?" Aura's deep blue eyes narrowed abruptly, and she whipped her head toward the source of the attack.

At the edge of the forest, Frieren had put away her slightly confused expression at some point. Her emerald-green eyes looked calmly in Aura's direction, while a barely perceptible trace of residual mana slowly dissipated from the tip of her staff. There was no triumph or provocation in her gaze, only the indifference of someone who had "done what needed doing."

The instant the unexpected attack distracted Aura—

The battle below suddenly changed!

Himmel, who had been suppressed and struggling to hold on, suddenly had a light as sharp as a sword flare in his eyes.

Some power he had been holding back seemed to have found an outlet at that moment, or perhaps his companions' persistence, the dignity of the dead, and the coldness of the demon commander before him had together lit a fire in his heart.

"Aura..."

It was not a deafening roar, but a low exhalation of words that seemed capable of piercing the soul.

"What do you take life... for?!"

Himmel's figure suddenly blurred.

The next moment, he seemed to become a streak of blue lightning, darting between several soldiers at an incredible speed and angle, his sword point aimed straight at Aura in midair! This was no longer the swordsmanship with which he had held back before. Visibly compressed, blazing battle aura gathered on the blade, scorching the air until it warped slightly.

"Damn." Aura's pupils contracted. She hurriedly tried to summon mana to defend herself or dodge, but the pain in her wrist and the disturbance to her mana from Frieren's attack slowed her by a negligible instant.

But that instant was enough.

"Pch!"

It was not the muffled sound of a blade cutting flesh, but more like the tearing of something tough being forcibly pierced.

The sword in Himmel's hand, wreathed in brilliant battle aura that seemed capable of purifying all evil, plunged deep and without flourish into Aura's torso between her chest and abdomen!

The instant the sword point entered her body, the intensely concentrated battle aura did not erupt immediately. Instead, as if alive, it surged wildly along the blade and into Aura, then churned, shook, and burst violently!

"Ugh—" Aura finally let out a short, muffled groan, pain on her beautiful face. Her black clothing and armor were torn and shredded by invisible sword aura from the point of impact outward, and she flew backward like a kite with its string cut.

"Lady Aura." Lugner, who had been standing silently on a branch behind her, watching the battle and slacking off, changed expression slightly. He flashed forward, appeared behind Aura, and caught her. At the same time, he lightly bit his own arm, and a thick shield of blood covered in eerie magic patterns instantly unfurled from the wound, blocking Himmel's path as he pursued.

That sword strike seemed to have exhausted the power Himmel had just unleashed. He landed pale-faced, braced himself on his sword, and panted slightly, but his sharp gaze remained fixed on the demons as they withdrew after the blow.

"Cough..." With Lugner's support, Aura barely managed to steady herself. She looked down at the gruesome wound between her chest and abdomen, ravaged by the violent sword aura, with mana constantly pouring out of it. The intense pain and disruption of her mana made it nearly impossible for her to keep flying. What welled up in her heart even more was incredulous fury and... a trace of cold wariness.

Those humans she had not taken very seriously... had actually wounded her. And with that elf's interference, she had been wounded by that "naive" hero!

"Lady Aura, your wound needs immediate treatment, and your mana needs to be stabilized." Lugner's voice remained calm, but he was speaking noticeably faster. "Without your precise control, the undead army will be far less effective. This is no time to act on emotion. We should retreat."

He spoke the final words with absolute resolve.

Aura fell silent for a moment. Her deep blue eyes swept over each of their faces, killing intent flashing through them. The harsh reality made her quickly reach a decision.

But the sword aura still rampaging through her torso, the dull ache of the wound on her wrist disrupting the flow of her mana, and Lugner's calm assessment all reminded her of that harsh reality.

"You... just wait." She did not hesitate. Leaning on Lugner, she raised a dark-purple halo of mana around herself, and her figure rapidly blurred as she retreated deeper into the forest.

Without Aura's continuous, precise instructions, the undead army below still attacked instinctively based on her last order, but their movements became noticeably slower and stiffer. Their assault was no longer as organized, and the threat they posed greatly diminished.

The pressure on Himmel and the other three eased, and all of them could not help breathing a sigh of relief.

But just as Aura and Lugner's figures were about to disappear completely into the forest shadows—

At the edge of the battlefield, in the shadow behind a large tree, a petite figure with pink twin tails was also trying to withdraw without a sound. There was no emotion in Linié's pink eyes; she merely wanted to follow Aura and Lugner in retreat. Her figure darted out as lightly as a cat, about to slip into the shadows.

But a figure appeared beside her and, at the very last instant, precisely and gently pinched the collar at the back of her neck.

"Huh."

Linié's forward momentum came to an abrupt halt. She blinked in some confusion.

"Retreat failed, special forces soldier. The little tail stays behind." Lowell's gentle voice sounded beside her ear.