"Thank you for your understanding. Now, we can celebrate—celebrate the fact that you chose the right side."
Talula set down the transmitter and flashed the group of nobles a wicked smile.
"Duke Talula—uh, Ta..."
One noble rose, intending to stop Talula, yet he did not know what to say.
"A title is merely a codename, my friend. You need not be so restrained. If you have something to ask, just say it."
"You... uh, why? Why are you helping those Infected?"
After struggling for quite a while, the noble finally squeezed that question out at "Talula."
"An interesting question. If you could understand that, you would not be sitting here right now, risking your lives just to fight over a mouthful of rotten meat left behind after beasts had torn each other apart."
"Talula" smiled as she mocked him, then glanced at the battered black tablet Orson had made in her hand.
"Duke Baikal has begun the next step. Marquis Rostov, I'll leave the cleanup to you. I have other matters to attend to."
"I understand—Duke Talula."
The Head of the Rostov Family bowed to "Talula," while she left the meeting room without another pause.
"—You really didn't try anything clever."
After leaving the meeting room, Talula casually walked to a window. Her tone and bearing returned to those of the "leader of the Reunion Movement" in the northern frontier, rather than "Duke Talula."
Think of it as a pastime, my daughter. Next time, I would rather you not need my strength and be able to toy with those weaklings who lack all conviction in the palm of your hand.
The Undying Black Serpent's voice echoed through Talula's mind. The entire meeting just now had been guided and led by Koschei.
This had been the result of the negotiations Talula and Orson had previously held in the realm of consciousness—having Koschei persuade and unite the nobles who had originally intended to side with Duke Baikal's faction.
And Koschei's true reason for deciding to help the Infected was actually quite simple: Orson had forced him to.
That day's negotiations had once reached a deadlock. Koschei was, after all, a "concept" that had lived for nearly two thousand years. There was almost nothing that could serve as leverage capable of shaking him.
Until Orson manifested a complete collection of television footage starring "that mysterious man from the East, the terrifying being known as the Demon of Domination, code-named XZ," and forcibly made Koschei watch it.
Koschei immediately rolled a 6D6 SAN check.
Manifesting something in the realm of consciousness meant Orson had to experience it himself as well. What followed was therefore a pure contest of willpower.
Orson opened with XZ, then manifested videos like Jue Ji, Laughing Era, Insect Emperor 24-Hour Song Stream, Potion Brother, Do You Match? Real Record, Beast Enemy Zoo 2, Unstoppable Gandam, and more. He dragged Koschei into watching them together until he agreed to the deal.
In the end, Koschei, who had gouged out his own eyes, felt a moment of genuine respect for Orson for the first time. This boy's willpower could probably no longer be described as human.
After the final torment of men and women, Koschei agreed to help Orson and Talula deal with those nobles. The price was that Orson would never manifest that hellish stuff again.
Back to the present—
"Everyone has their own aspirations."
Talula replied to Koschei irritably as she looked at the black screen in her hand, its surface faintly rippling.
This was the surveillance network Orson had been setting up when he found W—the Frequency Reflection Array. Centered around the Rostov family, it could detect traces of activity within a certain range.
"Duke Baikal's elite troops in the city have begun moving. You said before that the Emperor's Blades are even among them?"
More accurately, the Emperor's Blades have plans of their own. They learned of the Reunion Movement in the northern frontier, so they likely believe the Undying Black Serpent has already failed. Next, those self-righteous executioners will probably try to kill you in the name of the late Emperor.
"You sound quite pleased. Are you waiting for my death, so you can take up residence in another soul again?"
Talula marked several suspicious movement patterns, then sarcastically questioned Koschei.
How could that be, my daughter? What I look forward to is not the sight of you dying to filthy, meaningless violence. I am awaiting the despair on your face when you realize that everything you have done was meaningless.
"Then do you think I can still despair now?"
For once, Koschei answered with silence.
"Sleep, Koschei. I have a fierce battle waiting for me. You may watch quietly, or scoff at every single thing I do."
Talula, Talula, are you really planning to head into battle dressed like that?
"Are you still going to mock everything I have now as meaningless?"
I mean—you should change into a black lace-trimmed dress that better suits your temperament—
System Notice: Koschei has been muted by Administrator Talula.
"I really can't keep relying on Orson. That old snake seems to be getting more and more ridiculous too..."
Talula shook her flushed cheeks, then checked the longsword at her waist. Once she confirmed that her equipment was in order, she left the corridor.
Within the realm of consciousness, Koschei sat silently upon his throne. He stared without moving at a dusty corner of a distant bookshelf.
"More than two thousand years, huh? Time truly flies."
That place recorded the life of the first owner of the name Koschei.
Unification, Consolidation, Spread
Near the Reunion Movement's stronghold in the northern frontier, a group of people stood around several troop transports, pointing and discussing them.
"How exactly did Talula get her hands on something like this... The inheritance left behind by that fellow Koschei is truly terrifying."
FrostNova and the Abyssal Hunters looked at the two troop transports before them, each capable of carrying at least fifty people, with disbelief written all over their faces.
"According to the intelligence Talula sent over, the Enforcement Team has received orders permitting Infected people and civilians to enter the city. We won't have to sneak around like before during our next operation—I feel like I'm dreaming."
Big Bear of the Abyssal Hunters clicked his tongue in amazement. Since joining the resistance, he had encountered more strange things in this past year than in the rest of his life combined.
"Yeah. In the past, I would never have believed that the Infected could achieve this much—"
FrostNova looked toward the Reunion Movement's core members behind her. They were all wearing uniforms with red and yellow as their main colors, carrying standardized cold weapons and crossbows.
A year ago, these people had merely been a group of "worthless Infected" struggling to survive in the northern frontier. They had no organized fighting capability, no name of their own, and certainly no so-called base or supply lines.
But now, FrostNova suddenly realized that the Reunion Movement had developed a certain scale. They were no longer Infected who could only wander from place to place, barely surviving for food and warmth. They had truly become an organization that might be able to change something.
None of these changes could be separated from that boy who loved to talk, yet could not speak.
"Boss, Petrova and I will be joining the advance unit. Things should be fine on your end, right?"
Big Bear and Petrova climbed aboard a troop transport and looked at FrostNova with some concern.
"Although we sent notices to those villages, probably only a few villagers will join this operation... If that happens, your main force will be under enormous pressure."
The Reunion Movement's operation this time was mainly divided into two parts. Some elite Shield Guards, Abyssal Hunters, crossbowmen, and other troop types would take the transports and reach Chernobog as quickly as possible, providing Talula and the others with combat support.
Meanwhile, the majority of the Guerrilla Force and Infected fighters would march normally under FrostNova and Patriot's leadership—toward the Third Army Group.
"Don't worry. Our goal is not to clash head-on with the Army Group. Even with only these people, we have enough to complete the mission, right, Dad?"
FrostNova looked at Patriot beside her.
"Ursus's army... has decayed. We must give it our all, but there is no need... to fear those rusted... machines of war."
Patriot spoke in a halting voice.
"Dad, your throat, could it be..."
"A goji berry from the Goji Berry Tea just got stuck in my throat. What is it, Yelena?"
"...Nothing."
Health products truly were super-effective against the elderly. Even the Spear of Ursus and the Shield of the Infected could not stand against the terror of health supplements.
Still, it had to be admitted that those strange health products seemed to contain some unknown ingredients that could suppress Oripathy to a certain extent. It was absurd.
"See you later, Sister FrostNova." "We're ready to set off, FrostNova."
Ino and Sasha also boarded the troop transport. The two would respectively lead the casters and crossbowmen to Chernobog as reinforcements.
"Mm, be careful. This mission is harder than any before, but I believe in you."
FrostNova nodded to the two boys. Unlike when Talula had first picked them up, when they had been green and weak, they had grown tremendously. Even the white-haired Liberi boy who had once been shy and constantly hidden behind Sasha had become capable of standing on his own.
"Sister FrostNova, I'll connect your feelings to mine and deliver them to Teacher Orson too!"
Ino flashed a shy smile overflowing with girlish charm, making Snow Rabbit's ears go boing.
"Sasha—you should keep Ino in line!"
"...Huh?" Sasha looked utterly confused.
At this rate, that white-haired boy would probably be working as a waiter at some big bird spinning place tomorrow...!
FrostNova rubbed her forehead. Her rivals already included Talula and Alina, and now she had to compete with a pretty boy for a man too? What kind of world was this?
After seeing off the Chernobog advance unit with complicated feelings, there remained a number of fighters at the stronghold who would march with her.
"..."
FrostNova glanced at the clock. The scheduled assembly time was twenty minutes away, but not a single person from the villages covered by the Reunion Movement's trade network had arrived yet.
"Dad, how many people do you think will join this operation in the end?"
FrostNova looked at the empty snowy plains in the distance and asked Patriot.
"Do not hold too much hope. Neither you nor I know what sort of impact Talula's policies can have upon this land."
"Mm..."
FrostNova sighed. The seeds the Reunion Movement had planted over the past year would bloom and bear fruit today.
With fifteen minutes left until the scheduled assembly time, several dozen Infected arrived at the gathering point in scattered groups, but they were fighters who already belonged to the Reunion Movement.
With ten minutes left until the scheduled assembly time, some residents who had originally lived in the northern frontier gradually began appearing in scattered groups.
With five minutes left until the scheduled assembly time—
"..."
FrostNova blinked, unable to believe the sight before her.
A crowd stretching almost beyond the eye's reach had gathered at the assembly point, while more and more people continued arriving.
"This is the meeting point, right, miss?"
"...Yes. Um, are you sure you want to take part in this operation?"
A middle-aged man asked FrostNova, and she returned the question in disbelief.
"Ah, don't mention it! Who wants to clash head-on with an Army Group? That's basically marching off to die!"
"But you..."
"But we don't want our next generation to keep living in this godforsaken place either! Those bastards in Chernobog get to live so comfortably. Now that we finally have an opportunity like this, we have to fight for it ourselves!"
The man patted the hunting crossbow on his back and gave FrostNova a thumbs-up.
"—Mm, you're right."
FrostNova nodded, still somewhat dazed.
She had once thought that her and Talula's efforts would never bear fruit. She had also thought that the Infected and exiled civilians would never have the chance to return to the warm land of their childhood, where crops could be grown. She had even thought that the Infected would be sold out and betrayed by these northern frontier residents.
But she had not expected that the spark would truly spread—and that today, upon the ice-covered northern frontier, it would gather together.
Those who wanted to return to Chernobog, those who wanted to change their fates, those who wanted to change the future for the next generation, those who wanted the Infected to live with their heads held high—
Although these people had received only the most basic military training, although all of them together could not compare to even one regiment of the Army Group... they had truly answered this call to action. This once-in-a-lifetime roar belonged to the Infected... no, to the "Forgotten."
"Dad, I..."
"Hold your head high, Yelena. Save your tears for after the war."
Patriot gently patted FrostNova's shoulder, and she bit her lip before nodding.
"By coming here, you have shown that you understand the fate awaiting you—that is, hell made manifest, the nightmare known as the battlefield."
Patriot looked at the gathered sparks and spoke in a low yet commanding voice.
"In war, soldiers are not remembered. No matter how many lives we offer up, we are nothing more than numbers in politicians' mouths."
"No matter how this operation ends, none of us will leave a mark upon history. Everything will be buried and washed away beneath Ursus's blizzards."
"But—history will change because of us, warriors."
Before you continue