Day Twenty: Decisive Battle at Antoran

"Salute Commodore Diakum Zastinus, hero of Krokuun, commander of the Hand of Argus, exemplar of the vindicators, and guardian of the Eredar!"

Amid stirring military music and the vindicators' impassioned proclamation, Dick, clad in ceremonial armor and wearing an expressionless face, led the Five Young Elites and the Twins up the steps into the Seat of the Triumvirate beneath an "archway" formed by upright halberds adorned with ribbons.

The surrounding spectators erupted into frenzied cheers, while enthusiastic young girls continuously scattered flower petals.

The crimson petals drifted through the wind, making Dick raise his head to look at the ribbon banners fluttering atop the Seat of the Triumvirate.

The scene gave him a powerful sense of déjà vu.

Honestly, it felt pretty inauspicious.

If he had a demonic sword in hand right now, old Velen, who would be receiving him shortly, would be in serious trouble.

Fortunately, Argus had no absurd legends of soul-devouring demonic swords, nor did it have a tradition of Filial Piety. As for this welcoming ceremony... well, it was merely a way to boost morale in this time of widespread panic.

Dick understood the role he was playing and the meaning of his existence. Mac'Aree was now packed with civilians from Various Places across Argus. Even with Velen personally holding the fort, security in the capital district had deteriorated badly. One only had to look at the severe dark circles under Assassin Court Commander Talgas's eyes to see it.

Even the Assassin Court had been mobilized to assist with the Security Court's routine work. That showed just how troublesome the situation in the capital district had become.

Of course, most of the civilians gathered around had never even heard Commodore Diakum's name. They only knew that this general had led the Krokuun to defeat vicious demons in some distant frontier and had supposedly even slain a powerful demon demigod.

At this precarious moment, that was already Good News enough to soothe people's hearts.

When sturdy Hand of Argus veterans carried Kazzak's savage head down the street on a special frame, civilians on both sides of the road cried out in alarm.

They had clearly been frightened by that enormous, hideous head.

But that was followed by waves of curses and angry shouts, as enraged people continuously hurled rotten eggs, spoiled vegetables, and other things at Kazzak's head.

They deserved that outlet.

Those dark emotions could not be allowed to build up in their hearts forever. Hadn't they spent three days transporting Kazzak's head thousands of miles to Mac'Aree for precisely this reason?

The thing would be placed in the square of Oronaar City, where it would continue to suffer abuse and destruction from civilians from all over the world.

But...

That was all.

It had now been thirteen days since Velen and Kil'jaeden received the Dark Titan's declaration of doom. Only half a month remained until the ultimate end in thirty days.

The civilians did not know this terrible news.

They merely believed that Argus was suffering an invasion, but they firmly believed that, under the leadership of the two Grand Executors and through the valiant struggle of heroes like Commodore Dick, the Eredar would surely win.

Unfortunately, Dick could not tell them the cruel truth.

Win?

No!

That had never been an option from the beginning.

If they saw Krokuun, now completely corrupted by fel energy, with their own eyes, they would understand that the demons had never given them even the slightest hope of victory.

"You all should go to the Temple of K'ure and receive the Holy Light's blessing."

After completing the long and tedious victory parade, Dick said to the Five Young Elites:

"Rest while you can. After a brief break, we'll depart for the Antoran Wastes. Commander Kil'jaeden is holding Antorus against the demon assault, but he needs reinforcements. A great number of civilians there are waiting to be evacuated."

"Evacuated to Mac'Aree again?"

Imira, as blunt as ever, exclaimed:

"Even the student dormitories at the Arcane Academy have been turned into refugee camps. Is there really any room left here for civilians to live? I'd say Mac'Aree has gathered at least several million outsiders by now."

"Be bolder, Senior."

Saloras sighed.

"I just got the exact figures from the Assassin Court. They conducted a count three days ago. The crowds gathered across Mac'Aree have already exceeded ten million! That is one-quarter of the total Eredar population. Once the final transports from the Antoran Wastes are complete, the population here will exceed thirteen million."

"There isn't enough time."

Oreses said sorrowfully:

"A great many civilians won't make it to Mac'Aree in time. Now all we can do is see whether those naaru are reliable. If they have enough ships, perhaps they can land outside Mac'Aree and pick up the civilians there before taking them away.

If there aren't enough...

I'm afraid not even the people in Mac'Aree can be safely sent into the starry sea.

And that only includes the elderly, women, and children. The two Grand Executors have already made up their minds. All warriors and militiamen will board in the final wave. That means...

Sigh..."

"Stop sighing. This isn't one person's disaster, nor is it a crisis one person can reverse. Don't place every burden upon yourselves. It isn't a responsibility you should bear. Go get some rest."

Dick waved a hand and said:

"Don't spread this information around. If you have time, go back to the Arcane Academy and visit your former teachers and classmates. There's a good chance it will be difficult to meet again in the future."

"Hm?"

Fareeya asked in surprise:

"You mean the naaru won't send us to the same world?"

"They'd better not."

Saloras answered in her place.

The Twin, who had recently served as Dick's aide, understood these matters inside and out. She said softly:

"To avoid being wiped out in one blow by the demons and to leave enough seeds for Eredar civilization, the naaru will probably scatter our people across different worlds, forming separate Star Sea Clans.

The naaru have traveled the starry sea for countless years. They know where safety lies within it.

But Commodore Dick is right. If we are unlucky, we may never see each other again during our long lives. So hurry and fulfill whatever promises you still have with your kin. If you don't do it now, you may never have the chance."

That answer sent the Five Young Elites into silence.

Unlike Dick, who was all alone, they all still had families. After hearing this news, they had no heart to remain here. They bid Dick farewell and hurried away.

"The Technology Court will forge a new weapon for you as soon as possible."

Saloras stepped forward and said to Dick:

"They'll use Kazzak's horns as the raw material, but they'll be difficult to turn into the heavy weapons vindicators need."

"Make a staff."

Dick thought for a moment before saying:

"As a priest, I also need a staff capable of channeling the Holy Light. It's standard equipment for the profession."

"Oh, then Primordial Sorcerer Augure's skull can actually be put to use as well."

Oreses suggested:

"Have the priests of the Naaru Temple Lightforge it. That skull will become a powerful Holy Light artifact. It would be far better for you to use it than for those vermin Arcane Mages. Those bastards who have disgraced us sisters...

More than half of the recent desertion cases in Mac'Aree, where people have 'joined the demons,' involved Arcane Mages.

What a disgrace to the ancient arcane tradition!"

"If the Primordial Sorcerer were here, he would definitely cut off every one of their heads and turn them into artifacts... no, into chamber pots!"

Saloras cursed viciously as well, but Dick shook his head and said:

"That's normal. Arcane Mages are intelligent people, and because they are intelligent, they understand the situation before them more clearly. Everyone has selfish desires. We can condemn them morally, but... forget it. You two can use that skull.

It was an Arcane Mage's relic to begin with. Turning it into a Holy Light artifact would damage its power. Archimonde's Skull, which was previously kept by the Relic Court, can also be made into suitable combat artifacts.

One for each of you sisters."

"Ah? For us?"

A flash of greed passed through Saloras's eyes, but she soon shook her head and said quietly:

"Our ranks and reputations are too low. Those stingy bastards in the Relic Court won't give them to us."

"Go demand them in the name of the Hand of Argus's chief Arcane Mages! Demand them in the name of Krokuun war heroes! Demand them based on your merit as the nemesis of the Doom Lord!"

Dick said forcefully:

"Argus is about to perish! What are they keeping those treasures for? To leave them for the demons to enjoy? If they won't give them to you, take them! I'll handle whatever happens. Go."

"Wow, we were waiting for you to say that!"

Rubbing her hands together, Saloras proudly rushed toward the Relic Court with her sister.

The sisters had indeed coveted Archimonde's Skull for a long time. Now, with Skull of Augure available for them to divide between themselves, there could be nothing better.

However, Oreses was more cautious. After walking a few steps, she returned and secretly stuffed an ancient-looking, dusty Eredar rune backpack into Commodore Dick's hand. She whispered:

"We found this spatial container while gathering the Primordial Sorcerer's remains. It should be Lord Augure's personal treasure. Um... we kept it for ourselves. Now we're handing it over to you in accordance with military orders."

"Don't do this again in the future."

Dick said it neither harshly nor gently as he accepted the empty-looking bag and hung it from his body.

The sight made the Twins reveal strange smiles. Then, Hand in Hand, they used a Teleportation Spell to leave. Only after watching the two troublemakers depart did Dick place his hand on the antique satchel at his waist, and the item description quickly appeared:

[

Bag Name: Echo of the Primordial Sorcerer · Augure's Heirloom Chest

Bag Quality: Unranked Arcane Curio

Bag Traits: Bottomless Bag · Time Stasis Within · Expanded Internal Space

Bag Effects:

This bag contains a 25 x 25 x 25 (m) three-dimensional space, strictly divided according to Eredar storage traditions. Different types of items will be placed in separate areas. After soul-binding is completed, they may be retrieved or stored through the user's will.

Notice!

When used as a weapon chest, this item can hold no more than twelve weapons.

Notice!

When used as a food chest, this item can preserve food's freshness and flavor for thirty days. Please avoid storing cooked food for more than thirty days.

Notice!

When used as a materials chest, this item can minimize energy loss from magical materials. However, do not place highly aggressive materials into the bag.

Notice!

This item can be used as a "temporary cage," but unless you have an irreconcilable blood feud with someone, please do not casually stuff living people into the bag.

Notice!

This item was personally sewn by Primordial Sorcerer Augure and enchanted with Greater Elemental Permanence. It can resist ordinary magical attacks and interference. However, do not use this bag as a shield. It cannot guarantee your safety under all circumstances.

Item Description:

[Actually, if there aren't enough naaru ships, you could try stuffing those weeping, weak-willed civilians into this bag. If you stack them on top of each other, you can fit a lot of people! If it's just children, you can fit at least twice as many!

As for the risk of trampling and suffocation...

Tch, Sargeras is coming in person. Don't be so demanding. What I mean is, at the very least, they can leave behind whole corpses, right?

So, think about it.]

"Uh... you really are as inhuman as ever! Bastard."

Dick cursed.

Yet as he made his way to the executive hall to meet Velen, Dick could not help but begin considering that utterly unscrupulous idea.

The inside of Augure's chest had a volume of twenty-five cubic meters. Honestly, without taking comfort into account, it could hold at least dozens, perhaps even a hundred people at maximum capacity in a single trip. Of course, by "maximum," he meant a situation where people would not be crushed to death...

Forget it, forget it. He would not think about it.

That idea was truly too immoral!

What sort of bastard had come up with it? A single sentence had bewitched him into considering a matter a vindicator should never be thinking about.

This kind of "mental pollution" was terrifying. It was practically as though the other party had raped his brain with a single sentence.

"Diakum, my brave brother in faith, come here quickly!"

The moment Dick entered the executive hall, he heard Velen calling him.

He strode forward, only to see that the Grand Executor seemed to have aged several hundred years in half a month. His exhaustion and utter weariness were visible to the naked eye.

That was entirely understandable.

Under the current circumstances, the pressure Velen bore was surely over a hundred times greater than Dick's.

To put it simply, Dick only needed to think about how to beat demons on the front lines, while old Velen had far more to consider.

"The vindicators in the Mac'Aree region have completed their training. Though most are recruits, the warriors' morale is high. I am appointing you commander of this army. Lead them to the Antoran Wastes and assist Commander Kil'jaeden in fighting the demons."

Velen said to Dick:

"I know you are tired, and I have also heard from Hutton about the tragic situation on the Krokuun battlefield, but..."

"I understand, Grand Executor. You need not say more."

Dick said softly:

"These are difficult times. We should all work together to overcome them. I will lead the vindicators out on schedule. But there is one problem. The current number of Argus Hearts is nowhere near enough to meet the needs of every army, so we can only award them to the bravest warriors.

The changes in the Krokuun war have proven the World Soul's great power. I believe Lord Kil'jaeden will also have the confidence to hold out until the final day.

But...

Is there still no news from the naaru?"

"There is."

This was not a topic Velen should have discussed with a war commodore like Dick. However, since Velen had already regarded Dick as the Eredar's seventh "chosen of the Holy Light," he made an exception and answered:

"His Excellency K'ure has told me that one hundred and seventy-two naaru have answered our call. They can bring at least one hundred and fifty naaru starships.

Most of them are small starships like the Genedar, which carried His Excellency K'ure and His Excellency Lura. According to the Technology Court's calculations, if they abandon all armaments, carry only essential supplies, and expand their internal space to the limit, such starships can carry eighty to one hundred thousand people.

The transport capacity of these ships alone is enough to evacuate all civilians in the Mac'Aree region.

And there is even better news. Several days ago, Lady Xe'ra, the legendary Mother of Light, sent me a message through prophetic resonance.

Lady Xe'ra has dispatched her largest starship, Tempest Keep, along with four smaller starships, to Argus. She told me that fleet can transport at least three million people at once.

That means our people on the continent across the Eredath Sea need not despair either."

"But that still isn't enough."

Dick sighed.

"Even filled to capacity, they can only carry away half our people. That means we must abandon the other half..."

Velen fell silent.

With visible grief and resolve, he said in a low voice:

"You are military personnel, so I can tell you the contents of the letter Commander Kil'jaeden sent last night. My brother has made up his mind. He will not leave Argus aboard a starship! He will remain here with the bravest soldiers!

On one hand, to buy time for the civilians' evacuation. On the other, he stubbornly believes that someone must bear responsibility for Argus's disaster.

He said that, with the end approaching, as a Grand Executor, he must offer his life for everything he has protected and fulfill his oath. More than seventeen generals have already signed this farewell letter.

They and their warriors will hold the positions they have chosen for our world and our people until the final moment.

Dick...

"The people we need to send away are not as numerous as you think."

"Sir..."

Dick looked at Velen's resolute face. He knew that the Grand Executor had already made his decision.

Velen would never abandon Kil'jaeden and flee alone. History had already changed from the official record due to Dick's intervention. If Velen followed through on his resolve, it would mean that the two Grand Executors would ultimately be buried together in Argus's apocalypse.

"But do you truly believe your fate will end on Argus? You are a prophet!"

Dick said in a low voice,

"A prophet cannot defy the arrangements of fate. I believe you have witnessed the future countless times..."

"You want me to abandon my own brother? You want me to become a lonely coward?"

Velen's rare anger flared. Amid the radiance of the triangular Holy Crest behind him, he turned to Dick and rebuked him:

"Are you trying to mislead me?"

"Not at all."

Dick sighed.

"But if someone is willing to die for the world, then someone else must live on to bear an even heavier duty. Grand Executor, you and Commander Kil'jaeden have both beheld the World Soul. You know very well what duty every Eredar who leaves Argus carries upon their shoulders.

Without your leadership, can we truly endure in the dark stars until the day we return to Argus?

In the face of the current situation, death is merely the weakest escape.

You know your duty. You know what you must do. Please do not become a coward bent on dying! Rather than dying alongside your brother in your homeland, why not think of how to save him and lead him away with you?

If you are truly determined to defy fate..."

The Commodore took a deep breath and said to Velen:

"I am willing to become the sword in your hand when the moment of choice arrives, the sword that strikes at ruthless fate! It would be my honor. On the final day, I will guard the Atama Crystal in your stead and hold the last line of defense for our people's lives!

All you need to do is fulfill what you should and must do.

Fate wants us dead. Fate wants us to suffer. Fate wants us to wail. It wants us to become puppets representing pain upon its stage, so that heartless bastard can laugh aloud.

But when a prophet sees fate, he should resist it rather than submit to it. We must never let it have its way, must we?"

"Ah, so you have the potential to become a prophet as well, Diakum."

Velen sighed.

"Was it the World Soul that showed you those things?"

"Yes. Argus does not wish to see its children wandering among the stars in tears. It wants us to leave with hope and return clad in glory! The Holy Light does not wish to see the Eredar suffer the tragedy of extinction either."

Dick clenched his fists.

"I have defied fate before, and fate slapped me hard across the face. But I have no intention of stopping my challenge of it—or my beating of it—until I truly gain the upper hand.

You are the greatest prophet.

That means that when you resolve to defy it, the punch you can throw at fate will surely exceed that bitch's imagination.

Sorry. I should not have used such crude words before you."

Dick took a step back.

"I have just finished making preparations, Grand Executor. When we return from the Antoran Wastes, please make your decision as well!"

With that, he bowed, turned, and departed.

In the executive hall, old Velen returned to his seat. He caressed the Naaru staff in his hand, which carried the light melody of the Holy Light, then glanced at the empty seat beside him.

He asked himself what action he should take when that coming moment of choice arrived.

Perhaps...

Dick's suggestion was worth considering as well.

Several days later, at the foremost front of the Antoran Wastes, Dick wasted almost no time after arriving by aircraft. He led a group of elite Vindicators toward the command post where Commander Kil'jaeden was stationed.

The most fertile plains in all of Argus had now become its most brutal battlefield. Even with warriors wielding Argus Hearts fighting every day, the warfare and death that had taken place here over the past fifteen days still exceeded the Eredar's imagination and their historical records.

Just yesterday alone, the number of fallen across the entire front had surpassed three thousand.

For the Eredar, who reproduced with difficulty, such casualties were already horrifying.

"Dick!"

Just as Dick handed the last batch of Argus Hearts to Commander Kil'jaeden's quartermaster, he heard a familiar call. Turning around, he saw Malderan, covered in blood, leaping down from a thunder elephant.

Judging by his appearance, he had just led a raiding rescue operation. Behind Malderan, exhausted priests were treating unconscious rangers and spellcasters.

"What brought you here?"

Malderan tossed his warhammer to his adjutant, then stepped forward with a smile and embraced his brother. Dick did not care about the awful stench clinging to the man, who had clearly not washed for at least ten days.

"Of course, it's because you're all too exhausted. I brought people to replace you, so now you and your warriors can sleep well for a few days."

"Ha, still so fond of joking?"

Malderan shook his head, patted Dick on the shoulder, and said:

"I heard about Krokuun. Your achievements make me feel both proud and uneasy. Compared to you, I am far too inferior."

"Is that so? Then why did I hear on my way here that a certain reckless Vindicator, wielding an Argus Heart during a rearguard battle, killed eleven fel lords and three Eredun Doomguards all by himself?

"I heard that when they found you, the demons dead beneath your feet were already piled into a mountain. Those cowardly felhounds did not even dare approach you after you had been completely exhausted."

Dick smiled. As he accepted the staff made from Kazzak's demonic horn from Fareeya beside him, he followed Malderan toward the weary wounded.

"You proved that you deserve your achievements, Malderan. You have also been blessed by the World Soul. Before I left Mac'Aree, I went to see your children. They said they were proud of you."

"Hmph. As expected of a Vindicator who voluntarily became a priest. You really know how to talk."

The prolonged battles had made Malderan less solemn than before. Looking at the Argus Heart in his hand, still marked with scratches, he sighed.

"But I still cannot save everyone. All we can do is keep fighting, keep fighting, until the final glory arrives."

"Hold on, and there will always be hope."

Dick raised the casting focus that looked more like a spear than a staff. He continuously cast skilled healing and restoration spells upon the wounded around him.

At that moment, he truly resembled a kind priest in armor. But Malderan knew that when battle became urgent, this "old commander" of his could also transform into an invincible slayer beneath the Holy Light.

Mm, going to war alongside someone like this really was reassuring.

"Whooo..."

A deep horn sounded suddenly, interrupting Malderan and Dick's reunion. The two turned and saw that Commander Kil'jaeden's Battle Standard had already left the command post.

Malderan's expression changed dramatically. He said to Dick:

"The demons have launched an attack. Hurry! Bring your people and follow me. We need to defend the flank and hold out until the main battlefield wins. Sorry, I had planned to treat you to some local specialties."

"Isn't the Antoran Wastes' greatest local specialty right now the endless supply of demon whelps?"

Dick lifted the staff he had named "Kazzak's Grudge" with a motion like brandishing a battle spear, then laughed loudly.

"Thank you for your generous hospitality. I have come from far away and am hungry and thirsty now, so I will not stand on ceremony for the coming feast of war. Mm, the day of hearty feasting has arrived! Best of all, I have a fine stomach bestowed by the Holy Light!"