Chapter 09
Childhood, Prelude to Summer (8)
The summer-covered forest was parched and dry.
As if dying, the once-lush greenery, robbed of all moisture, gradually withered and shriveled.
It was only natural—summer took everything from this land.
“I told you to just bring oil and fire—why’d you bring a steam gun?”
Kaisen, walking in front, asked.
The two student soldiers following behind replied, their voices trembling with fear and their lips dry as if from terror.
“Well… i-if Uruk show up, we have to fight them, right?”
“Fight? You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“I-I’m not shaking!”
Humanity used steam guns—SteamGuns, the culmination of steam technology developed by the Ain people.
The advantages of the steam gun were clear: it drastically reduced the power gap in battle and miraculously shortened training time for new recruits.
But it came with a drawback.
“If things go wrong, just run. But how are you going to run carrying something that heavy?”
The problem was the steam engine: a miniature engine strapped to the user’s back.
Multiple hoses extended from the engine and connected to gas tanks on both sides of the hips.
The gun would draw power from those tanks to fire bullets.
“We can take care of ourselves!”
Around then, Kaisen stopped.
The boy soldiers flinched and placed their hands on the gun barrels strapped to their belts.
Kaisen spoke.
“Pour oil here. Then set it on fire.”
Grumbling, the boys poured oil onto the trees and lit their torches.
Early summer made the world dry—perfect for fire to catch.
Flames hissed as they followed the oil and began to ravenously lick across the forest in every direction.
The stench of burning rose thick into the air.
“Now run. Within ten seconds. Ditch the guns.”
“…?”
“No, five seconds, maybe? Hurry!”
And with that, it began—
The dance of death.
“Huh?”
A flash of something pale shimmered—
And the head of the boy holding the torch split cleanly in two, his brains and skull fragments flying through the air.
Darkness surged out.
Another boy soldier, stumbling backward in shock at the scene, was struck with a mace. His torso crumpled, leaving only a shattered spine before he collapsed into the shadows.
“Damn it, I told you to run!”
Kaisen, half a beat late, clenched his jaw and gripped his sword hilt.
‘The scent of blood and gunpowder is all mixed up…’
As the torches rolled on the ground, forest shadows danced chaotically.
Amid those shadows, grotesque giants crept in.
“Kun Ta Ni shiRaooooOOOO!”
A voice filled with joy.
Kaisen stared expressionlessly at the scene. Only his eyes gleamed coldly.
“What’s so fun about this?”
These things, every last one of them—
Grinning like mad dogs with those hideous faces.
He drew the long blade from his back. Flames, like a mountain-consuming fire, flickered along the sword’s edge.
Kaisen spoke:
“Oshide (Come at me).”
Almost simultaneously—
An Uruk warrior charged in, swinging a mace,
and Kaisen launched himself skyward.
Whirrrrr───!
Dodging the sweeping mace from below,
he spun twice in the air and slashed like a spinning top.
────Thud.
The moment Kaisen landed—
A thin red line traced across the Uruk’s head and torso.
A beat later, a fountain of blood erupted, splitting the body clean in half.
Fwoooooosh─────!
One down.
Kaisen flicked his blade toward the ground.
The blood flung from the sword painted the earth in red.
“Don’t act cocky. Come at me all at once!”
Speaking fluently in their tongue, Kaisen called out—
And from the darkness beyond the torchlight, more giants emerged.
The fire grew fiercer, powerful enough to swallow the mountain.
The Uruk’s flanking unit, too distracted by Kaisen, missed their chance to put it out.
“That Kaisen guy.”
Even from afar, the wildfire was clearly visible.
Perched on a ridge where the stars gleamed ominously, Wolf smiled.
“He pulled it off in less than half a day, not even a full one.”
Scoffing, Camilla stood, strapping the divine-grade sword Aradamantelle to her waist.
Mercenary captain Eltoram bellowed at the battalion.
“Get your lazy asses up, you bastards! It’s party time!”
At that moment, Kaisen lowered his stance, aligning his sword and scabbard.
First Form of the Crossblade Style: Circle (圓).
The basic form, and the foundation for all transitions—
An extreme defensive stance.
“GGGGGGSHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKK!”
A war axe came crashing down.
Kaisen thrust his crossed blades into its path—
Thus began the form of the Crossblade Style.
CLAAAAANG───!
Steel clashed with steel.
In the brief rebound, a tiny opening revealed itself.
Suppressing the bone-crushing pain in his wrist,
he swiftly sheathed the blade—then:
Fourth Form of the Crossblade Style: Release (發).
Draw and strike.
Slash the weakness, then retreat.
As Kaisen stepped back, the Uruk warrior collapsed at his feet, coughing up blood.
Go on. Laugh.
See if it’s still funny.
He stomped on the warrior’s head and sliced deep into its neck.
The Uruk screamed, clutching its bleeding throat.
The other warriors paused, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
“Waaaaarrr…?”
“Anu on Shikeraber…?”
Two warriors dead in a single exchange.
At the hands of a human brat.
The stunned Uruk hesitated.
Kaisen beckoned with a flick of his finger.
“What are you waiting for? Come at me!”
As Kaisen’s bloody battle raged on,
the Uruk were suddenly ambushed by a counterattack from the militia.
Exploiting the confusion—
The Peiquarrior Battalion charged in from the flank and tore through the Uruk lines.
“Line 1, aim—fire!”
“Line 2, ready—fire!”
“Line 3, aim—fire!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each volley dropped more Uruk.
Even the supernatural giants who charged forward despite being shot—
fell before long.
“It’s the battle chieftain!”
“Commander!”
Facing the massive chieftain,
was the false hero—Camilla.
“I am Camilla Alter Aradamantelle.”
The divine sword answered its wielder’s call.
With a fierce roar, it unleashed a scarlet blade aura.
Aradamantelle—
The divine sword that dyed the bloodied world red with its own fiery hue.
“I’ll kill you.”
But it wasn’t even a fight.
The Republic soldiers could see the collision between the chieftain and the Peiquarrior.
And then—
With a flash of crimson lightning from Aradamantelle’s blade,
the chieftain was split in half, blood spraying in all directions.
“T-that’s the lead Peiquarrior…!”
The militia who witnessed it were struck with awe and rallied.
The Uruk, demoralized, began to fall back.
“Wipe them all out—leave not a single one alive.”
Standing atop the chieftain’s corpse,
Camilla shook the blood from her blade with burning eyes.
Amid the repulsive stench of alien blood, the massacre began.
Gunfire rang out endlessly,
while the forest’s smoke mixed with the stench of burning bodies.
It was the era of war.
Dark Age, Year 1696.
The Inferno Line front was at its fiercest.
And in that hell, Kaisen moved from battlefield to battlefield.
He was just seventeen years old.
“Casualty report?”
The battle ended in a major victory.
As Camilla sheathed Aradamantelle, she asked.
Eltoram replied:
“Thirty-three dead, fifty-seven wounded.”
“And?”
“We’ve killed over four thousand Uruk.”
The soldiers were still sweeping the area, killing off wounded or fleeing Uruk.
Not one was spared.
“Quite a lot for a detachment. And I’m guessing we fired at least 4,000 rounds too.”
They’d have to restock supplies.
But more importantly—
Four thousand Uruk inside the Inferno Line? How did they even get in here?
‘This is ominously bad. I need to report this to that old bastard quickly.’
Around then, militia captain Jack approached.
“Th-thank you. I don’t know how to repay you…”
He bowed, then paused in awe.
The Peiquarrior before him was stunningly beautiful.
Camilla spoke.
“There was a brat here earlier, rude little guy?”
“A brat? Oh, yes.”
“Where is he?”
“Said he was lighting a beacon, hasn’t come back. But… is that kid really with the Peiquarrior Battalion?”
That kid?
The one who snapped at that was veteran soldier Jin.
“Kind of ungrateful tone for someone we just saved, don’t you think?”
“Huh…?”
“You’re alive thanks to Kaisen. Damn Republic fools…”
Johan Wolf Frost stepped in to calm the mood.
“Let it go, Jin. Sorry—everyone’s on edge after battle.”
Around then, Eltoram sniffed the air and grinned.
Following the direction he pointed,
Camilla found Kaisen covering a burial pit with soil.
Using an Uruk axe as a shovel, the boy didn’t show his face.
“What’re you doing?”
“The ones who helped start the fire. They were killed in the ambush.”
“You knew them?”
“No. But if I were as strong as you, I could’ve protected them.”
Camilla walked over and stacked a few pebbles atop the mound like a grave marker.
“Summer hasn’t even properly started. If you get emotional over every little thing, you’ll dry out and die before it’s over.”
She patted his back.
Unlike her usual beatings,
this one was oddly gentle—almost like praise.
“So don’t cry.”
That was the last of it.
The final moment they could afford any lighthearted words.
The day the Inferno Line—the southernmost boundary of humanity—was breached, is burned into memory.
A griffin rider gasping for breath as he delivered the urgent news…
Yes, it was then.
Before that, Kaisen’s unit, Camilla’s battalion, had been stationed in Aquitania for resupply.
“Look, it’s the White Bone Battalion.”
“They say they win every battle.”
“I’ve fought with them before. They’re just a bunch of monsters.”
Aquitania.
A military city that had flourished since ancient times, originally a small central-western city of the Old Republic.
It connected the midland capital Aurelinople with the southwestern port Aristapho, via the Bellisor River.
It also lay on the Inferno Line’s supply rail, serving as a key hub for the Republic.
“Jin, you’re in charge of verifying the supplies.”
Despite the war, Aquitania looked vibrant.
The roads were paved with stone, refugees worked in factories and received fair rations.
Walking beneath the shadow of a great clock tower, Camilla gave orders.
“If anyone hands out cheap bullets or guns, bring them to me. I’ll knock their teeth out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why would you call me ‘ma’am,’ idiot?”
“I meant commander, milady!”
Jin dodged her punches as he defended himself.
Camilla continued:
“Wolf, check if the church is paying its dues properly.”
“Got it.”
“Eltoram, keep an eye on him so he doesn’t spend the whole day screwing around. We might have to move out soon.”
“Yup.”
“I’ll go report to that perverted old Marshal.”
As citizens stepped aside with respectful silence,
someone suddenly blocked the battalion’s path.
“……?”
Everyone was puzzled—
but as soon as they saw the person’s appearance, they understood.
“It’s been a while, Camilla.”
She, too, had white hair.
And golden eyes.
The long sword at her waist—its scabbard intricately engraved—was the divine-grade sword Tasalpho.
As it radiated a cool blue aura,
Camilla’s Aradamantelle resonated with a crimson glow.
“You’re still alive, huh, Sharon.”
