Lance Charge on the Arkship, but Without a Mount

After parting with Centaurea, Claude turned and headed toward a particular area. He had promised Hart he would pick her up today, and he could not go back on his word, or she would definitely make a fuss. Whenever he thought of Hart, Claude felt strangely conflicted. Looking at that adorable girl, he simply could not connect her to his griffin. She was still as cute as ever, but many of the ways they had once played around together now seemed somewhat inappropriate—especially under Hellagur's watchful gaze.

For example, right now, Claude stared at Hart with a speechless expression while she eagerly gestured at him with her eyes. Of course he knew what Hart meant, but there was no way he could do something like that.

Silence spread through the room. When Hart saw that Claude still was not moving, she looked at him in confusion, her eyes asking a question.

"No, Hart, wait... I think we need to have a proper talk about how we get along now."

Claude racked his brains over his wording. To prevent a social death, he had to solve this problem.

"Look, Hart, you are now, how should I put this... a girl. You know, a girl."

Hart nodded, but she still did not understand what Claude meant.

"So... I can't ride on your back anymore."

Hart's face immediately fell, and tears began to gather in her eyes. Claude hurriedly continued explaining.

"And look, I'm wearing armor now. It's too heavy for you to carry me. Besides, you don't see men on the street riding on girls, so..."

Claude himself had no idea what he was saying, but he absolutely could not let that happen. If anyone saw him riding on a girl, then his life as a general would be over.

Faced with Hart, the person closest to him, he had no other option but to keep explaining. Yet Hart seemed not to have heard a word. The disappointment in her eyes was practically overflowing.

Claude prayed for inspiration to strike. He hoped some brilliant idea would suddenly emerge to solve the problem before him. He owed many of his victories to his instincts; while observing the battlefield and analyzing intelligence, he would often have a sudden flash of insight, find the enemy's fatal weakness, then lay out an exquisite plan and draw them completely into his trap.

Now he was waiting for that same flash of insight, but unfortunately, nothing came. Compared to his terrifying experience on the battlefield, Claude's knowledge of dealing with girls was woefully lacking. He could not think of any way to handle this.

Claude gritted his teeth and decided to tell Hart his troubles plainly. If she still could not accept it, he would think of something else.

He reached out and grasped Hart's shoulders, bending slightly so that his eyes were level with hers. With a solemn expression, he made her look seriously at him.

"Hart, to be honest, I'm the one who can't accept it. You may not understand, but if I rode on your back now, it would cause me a great deal of trouble. That sight is absolutely not something humans can accept. And if I rode you now, it wouldn't help either of us, so we can no longer work together as we used to."

As he said this, Claude suddenly felt a little sentimental. He rubbed Hart's head.

"We're both different now, Hart. We stopped being who we used to be a long time ago."

"So, listen to me, all right, Hart?"

Fate was always unpredictable. When you thought you had defeated it, it would often give you a surprise.

Claude turned his head to look at Hart clinging to his back and could not help but sigh. Still, it was only a minor sentiment. Overall, he was quite satisfied. He had successfully soothed Hart, and at least he would not suffer a social death. Though he still felt that the soldiers looking at him had rather strange expressions.

Hart's slender arms were tightly wrapped around Claude's neck, her face buried in his shoulder. He carried her all the way to the specially designated training ground.

This training ground belonged exclusively to him. The commotion he caused while training was simply too great, making it unsuitable for him to train with ordinary soldiers. So he had approved a site like this for himself. It had originally been a construction materials company, but it had gone bankrupt due to poor management, leaving the warehouse vacant.

Hart finally agreed to get off Claude's back only after they reached their destination. He felt that Hart's personality seemed to have undergone some strange changes. At the very least, she had definitely not been this clingy when she was a griffin... probably?

"All right, Hart. For the sake of our teamwork, I need to understand your current condition. After all, neither of us has such a powerful body anymore. If we want to work closely together on the battlefield, we need to know more about each other."

"So, Hart, attack me with everything you've got. Don't hold back."

Hart nodded without hesitation. She did not think she could hurt Claude at all. In this world, no one understood the meaning of the four words "Lord of the Legion" better than Hart.

She reached behind her and drew two short swords. Of course, in her eyes, they were her claws. When she had still been a griffin, human blades had been nothing more than fangs and claws to her—just sharper and stronger. Fundamentally, their purpose was the same.

PS: I wanted to try drawing Hart and the protagonist, but my clumsy hands just can't make it work. (;′⌒`)

The Rising Reunion Movement: The Calm Before the Storm (3)

In modern online games, dual swords were often given the trait of faster attack speed. But in reality, dual swords were absolutely not faster. They were no faster than wielding a longsword with both hands. Their only advantage was that they could attack two places at once. Moreover, because they demanded greater skill from their user and were more dangerous on the battlefield, people generally only used dual swords in duels, usually one long sword and one short sword.

In the hands of a properly trained master, an opponent who rashly wielded dual swords would often expose fatal openings. It was not that no one could truly use dual swords well; there were simply too few of them. Most importantly, using dual swords required the left hand to be just as dexterous as the right, with the same ability to control a weapon. Only through long years of practice could one become an expert dual-sword user.

Hart was undoubtedly an expert. The two short swords in her hands were so dangerous that even Claude had to focus completely, not daring to let his attention slip for an instant. Hart had likely been taught weapon techniques, but her attacks still felt incredibly familiar to Claude. Like a hawk diving from the sky, every strike carried tremendous force and astonishing speed. One careless move, and his chest would be pierced. She made no attempt to hide her intention whatsoever: she wanted to cut her opponent into eight pieces.

Claude mobilized every muscle in his body. The longsword in his hand carried astonishing momentum and power, throwing off showers of sparks as it met the incoming short swords. In the reflections flashing off the blades, a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. Hart gave him no chance to exploit his reach advantage, trying her best to stay close to his body, because the girl knew full well that this distance favored her.

But this state of affairs would not last, because Claude had already found her opening. The girl was a little too impatient. The moment he exposed even the slightest weakness, she eagerly rushed in. Claude knew very well that she was getting carried away again, having long forgotten that she no longer possessed her former powerful body. She wanted to take his attack head-on, then trade injury for injury.

He slightly turned his blade, angling its edge diagonally downward, and waited for Hart to charge in. Sure enough, having become familiar with his attack patterns, Hart responded correctly, hurriedly trying to deflect the strike with both short swords. But the attack had been a feint from the beginning, meant to conceal Claude's true intent.

In the blink of an eye, Claude suddenly slammed into Hart, charging straight into her embrace. Before Hart could react, the crossguard of his longsword hooked the inside of her knee. Then, with a slight sweep of his leg, Hart felt herself fly into the air. Claude had directly hurled her overhead.

But Hart reacted immediately. She threw away her short swords and reached out to grab Claude's hair, landing astride his shoulders as she tried to take him down with her momentum. Her movements were so light and swift that Claude was nearly pulled over before he could even use the proper force. At the crucial moment, however, he braced himself against the ground with one hand.

At that moment, he had only one thought.

I really shouldn't have kept my hair this long. But if I had my helmet on, I wouldn't have this problem. Is this really punishment for taking off my helmet?

He rolled hard across the ground, freeing his hair from Hart's grip. Hart seized the opportunity at once, pouncing on him and straddling him, intending to restrain him and declare victory. Faced with his old partner, Claude's competitive spirit was completely stirred up. Naturally, he would not let Hart have her way. Half playing and half serious, the two began grappling on the ground.

Twenty minutes later, Claude pinned Hart to the ground with a smug smile. Hart was like a slippery loach, always finding a way to escape just when he was about to subdue her, as though it were some inborn instinct.

Having satisfied that small bit of competitiveness in himself, Claude contentedly released Hart and prepared to get up. To his surprise, he found that Hart was still clutching his shoulders.

"All right, Hart, let go of me. It's over."

But Hart did not release him. Instead, she climbed directly onto him and stared fixedly at him. Then Claude discovered in horror that the distance between them was getting smaller and smaller. It was certainly not Claude who had leaned closer, which meant there was only one explanation...

Hart seemed to be acting strangely because of certain hazy, half-understood feelings.

Claude was not panicking yet. With his wealth of experience, he was sure he could find a way to solve this problem—as long as no one came to interrupt them right now.

But first, he needed to restrain Hart. She was about to kiss him.

With a slap, Claude covered Hart's mouth. Hart also seemed to snap back to her senses, stopping when she was still five centimeters from Claude's face.

Good. The situation was looking excellent. As long as he could push her away perfectly, nothing unexpected would happen. Claude thought this to himself and slowly exerted force with his arms. But Hart did not seem willing to leave Claude's body. She stubbornly clutched his clothes, making the task far from smooth.

Just as Claude was about to keep trying, the sound of the warehouse doors opening suddenly came from behind him. He sprang up as though his finger had been bitten, while Hart remained tightly attached to him.

"I didn't know you had that kind of hobby."

There was a trace of dissatisfaction in the young woman's cool voice. Yelena stood with her arms folded, leaning against the warehouse doors as she looked at the two of them. Claude finally managed to peel Hart off himself with some effort, though there was no embarrassment on his face.

"Yelena, what is it? It's rare for you to come here."

Claude restrained Hart with one hand and spoke as though nothing had happened.

That was right. As long as he pretended nothing had happened, there was a good chance the other party would not keep talking about it—especially Yelena. Knowing the young woman's personality well, Claude came up with this despicable plan.

Sure enough, once business was mentioned, Yelena's expression immediately returned to normal. She rummaged in her clothes and took out a document.

"Talulah and the others are preparing to hold a celebration. There are many things that need arranging, and we need you to join the discussion on the specifics."

"All right, let's go together. We really should celebrate properly. Our nerves have been stretched too tight."

The Rising Reunion Movement: The Calm Before the Storm (4)

A celebration—a lively, grand celebration—would be very useful in their current situation. Their people had been tense for far too long, especially those villages on the snowfields. They had lived under the shadow of the Ursus military for years. Even if they had grown accustomed to enduring hardship, no one liked that feeling. They needed to announce to all civilians that the Reunion Movement had entered a new era, an era of rapid development.

They also needed a celebration to announce their existence to all of Terra. To prove that they were not a terrorist organization, but a true regime. Previously, they had lacked the resources to do such things, but now they had Chernobog, this enormous industrial city. They had more than enough manpower and material resources to accomplish it.

Unfortunately, none of their leaders had experience organizing this kind of event. Claude had only ever attended grand celebrations; he had never been one of their organizers. Even Talulah lacked experience in this area. More importantly, they needed to spread their message and bring hope to all the Infected across Terra, so they also needed journalists to report on it.

Notices recruiting relevant professionals had long since been posted by soldiers throughout the streets and alleys, but there had been no response so far. They had to find a solution now.

"I just remembered, I need to go take a look at the military headquarters."

Boccas slapped his palm as though suddenly enlightened, then hurriedly tried to pick up his great halberd and shield so he could leave this place that made him uncomfortable all over. Yelena reached out and grabbed his robe, stopping her father as he tried to flee.

"You can't hide from it. This is an inevitable stage in our organization's development. We have to resolve it perfectly."

Claude was tapping away at a terminal beside them, apparently searching for something. Centaurea stood next to him, occasionally pointing things out. Hart and Ceobe were sharing a loaf of bread nearby, becoming friends almost in the blink of an eye. Talulah wore a troubled expression as she wrote and drew in her notebook, then dissatisfiedly tore out pages from time to time. Alina looked at her friends with a wry smile, completely unable to help with this either. Yelena quietly ate candy and watched the show, while Boccas scratched his head in embarrassment.

As for the other leaders, such as Faust, Ino, Ludmila, and Ethan, they understood even less. Being here made them feel like they were only making up the numbers.

"How about asking someone highly educated for help? For example, that Doctor Kal'tsit from Rhodes Island. I could tell at a glance that she's a very experienced person. She should know how to handle this sort of thing."

Claude suddenly shut the terminal screen and stood up. Sitting here and thinking was no solution. Most of the people here were barely literate, while everything he knew was related to war and was useless now. Rhodes Island was different. Their combined academic standards could not compare to that place. At least as far as he knew, Mister Blood, who had published several heavyweight international papers, was Doctor Warfarin, that unreliable physician from Rhodes Island.

"Lord Kal'tsit? That is indeed a feasible solution. She is a very wise person."

Patriot shook his tattered cloak and stood up. He declared that they should leave everything to the intelligent Lord Kal'tsit so that he would not have to use his brain, then quickly left. The others had no better ideas, so they could only agree that after Claude spoke with Kal'tsit, he would send the results of their discussion to their terminals, and they would continue discussing it that afternoon.

"All right, I'll make an appointment with Doctor Kal'tsit. She's always busy, so I don't know whether she'll have time... Come to think of it, Rhodes Island seems not to have left yet."

Claude spoke as though he had only suddenly remembered it.

"Because there are so many Infected here, they plan to stay longer and establish a permanent medical station. I've already instructed the relevant personnel to cooperate with them fully."

Talulah immediately explained.

"By the way, I remember sending you the detailed report. You didn't read it?" Talulah continued, a curious expression appearing on her face. She had handed Claude the overall report for this period yesterday.

Claude looked somewhat troubled. He rubbed at his eye sockets, stood up, and looked toward Hart, who was already playing around with Ceobe. The two young women chased each other about, causing complete chaos. Though both had become lovely young women, they looked as adorable as children.

"I've been busy with Hart's matters these past few days. There must be quite a pile on my desk by now. Although I've handled the important things already, I guess I'll have to work overtime after this..."

"Who is this girl, anyway? You seem very concerned about her. Is she an old acquaintance?"

Yelena had somehow come to stand beside them. She asked this question while giving Claude a meaningful glance.

"Ahem! She is indeed an old acquaintance."

"Are you close?"

"Very close. Before every battle, half my life was entrusted to her hands."

Hearing the sentiment in Claude's voice, Yelena could not help rolling her eyes.

"I really wonder how many more things you're hiding from us."

"Sorry. There are some things I still can't tell you."

"I'm not blaming you. I was only saying it casually. Since you trust this girl, we will trust her too. After all, you are our general."

Their voices gradually faded away, and the meeting room was once again filled with silence. Only dust motes in the sunset drifted through the air without pattern, yet they could not conceal the warmth lingering here.

Kana was a garment factory worker. Today, she continued with her work—hemming clothes. Their lives were much better now. The garment factory received production assignments and management directly from the Chernobog Military Committee, and that bone-sucking bastard who had exploited them was gone.

The workers had far more rest time, yet their wages had increased considerably. In addition to their base pay, the Military Committee implemented a system where greater work brought greater rewards. Workers who made outstanding contributions received extra bonuses, so everyone was highly motivated. The factory's production efficiency was actually much higher than before.

In her hands was a thick winter military uniform, an order issued by the army. The uniform had thick, warm padding, tough and wear-resistant fabric, and soft lining. Its fur collar could effectively block the frigid winter winds of Ursus. Thanks to ample funding, its quality had reached an astonishing level—even better than the uniforms equipped by the elite forces of the Ursus Empire.

What puzzled Kana was that this batch of orders had suddenly become urgent over the last two days. She had heard it was needed immediately, so production had to be accelerated. More workers had been reassigned to this factory, and they worked three shifts around the clock without pause.

Is there going to be another war?

A considerable worry rose in her heart. She even failed to control the pressure of her hands, causing the stitching to stray. She worked to correct it, but the worry in her heart only grew stronger.

The Rising Reunion Movement: Farewell

"Have you really decided?"

Młynar adjusted the cuffs of his suit. He was dressed rather too lightly for this weather, but his manner remained composed, and he paid no attention to the fine falling snow. He did not look at his niece at all, yet Margaret knew that he was speaking to her. She also knew exactly what her uncle wanted to ask.

"Yes, Uncle. I've decided."

"You must understand what you will face. Everything you see now is by no means a universal phenomenon. Many of its factors can only be called miracles. It would be unwise to misjudge the difficulty of things because of this."

Młynar still did not look at his niece, speaking to himself as though there were an invisible person standing before him.

"I understand, Uncle. I understand all of it."

Margaret tightened the scarf around her neck. She did not look at her uncle either. In a sense, their personalities were very similar, so many things did not need to be spoken for the other to understand.

Today was the day they would set off for Kazimierz. They did not have much luggage. Since Shining needed to look after Liz, she remained at Rhodes Island. Because of the assistance they had provided the Reunion Movement, they had received an armored off-road vehicle. Its performance was formidable, enough to drive all the way from here back to Kazimierz.

Everything was ready. For food, they had prepared highly chewable dried meat and dehydrated vegetables, all purchased from the city's food factories. They were good quality and inexpensive. They also needed plenty of drinking water. In regions frequently struck by Catastrophes, water sources in the wilderness could not be drunk carelessly, because no one knew how many Originium particles they contained. One careless mistake could lead to infection. By the same reasoning, the snow in the nearby fields could not casually be melted for water either.

But they had not left yet, because one person had not arrived.

Claude arrived quickly. Though the piled-up documents had kept him busy until three in the morning, he still got up early today to see Młynar and Margaret off to Kazimierz. In his plans, Kazimierz occupied an important position. It possessed the most developed economy on all of Terra, and his friend also aspired to change Kazimierz's rotten, dark state of affairs.

"Then I won't waste words. Goodbye, Margaret and Mister Młynar. Send me a letter once you arrive. Oh, right, don't forget to give Maria my regards. That child should be a grown woman by now. I remember she told me her dream was to become an outstanding craftsman. She must be close to achieving it by now."

"Certainly. And don't forget to come to Kazimierz. I expect everyone misses you very much... I need your help very much too."

"Goodbye, Mister Claude. You are a man of conviction. I believe you will surely achieve your goal in the end."