act7mini

Battle?

Sister, we never 'battle.'

As more and more Rusthammer warriors show themselves, the Ursus soldiers are stunned, not daring to make a move. When they begin to speak, all the twenty-four can do is stand there silently.

They—the so-called 'countries' and 'civilizations'—display, from the root, their evil. Their colossal nomadic cities, their ugly steel creations, their metal fetters and cells cast from malice, are the sinister proof of their sin.

They have stolen everything. They have plundered this world's minerals, seized its water and land, and taken it all for their own.

They claim that only faith in 'civilization' can bring salvation, that everything not bound by their shackles has been stamped by a barbarous seal. They fear the truth, and we will return the truth to the land.

They use force to make you afraid, they use civilization to make you feeble, they give you no choice but to rely on their baselessly invented 'order,' no choice but to trap yourself in the cage.

And so they enslave you who by all rights ought to be free, and so they swallow you!

This world ought to belong to everyone. Everyone should, like you and I and anyone else, take a place in these wastelands with their own two hands! The wasteland will eliminate the weak, but when traced to the source, just who was it that made the people of the world weak?

You must become their nightmares, become their calamity, become the force that destroys them.

Who can shackle and manacle a hurricane, an earthquake? And who can imprison a thunderclap, a lightning bolt within a cage?!

We never battle! We destroy!

We pulverize the cage, we destroy the fetters, we plunder back that which was stolen, and those willing to abandon weakness may all become Rusthammer brothers and sisters.

—Destroy! Destroy! Destroy! Destroy! Destroy!—

The chaotic yet resounding metal pounding echoes through the whole gorge.

They shout, strike the earth with the handles of their weapons, the collision of metal and rock as if thunder rolling through the dark.

—Destroy! Destroy! Destroy! Destroy! Destroy!—

Have no fear! They're just a bunch of lunatics!

Get into formation! P... Prepare for battle!

They tremble. They fear us. We destroy. We hunt.

Cast away the fetters of civilization. We will never be weak again.

Catastrophes sweep the wastelands...

Rusthammers smash the world!

This place will no longer shelter you.

Begone, dear warrior. Turn about and flee. Your pitiful destiny is already set in stone. You have no place in this world any longer.

Indeed, your existence has no meaning for us anymore.

......Thus, the warrior fled. She, who never once trembled in fear under the thundering of the enemy's drums, who never faltered against the roars of her cruel opponents, turned and ran.

Akroti, a region in Minos bordering Sargon, comprised of many villages

Days of unending rain would sicken even the most tenacious of young warriors.

Not to mention this pitiable fellow, sunken to the darkest depths of despair.

What sort of experiences would have forced her to leave her home at such a young age?

What happened to her, such that her heart would ache in sadness whenever she looks back at her homeland?

She wishes no one to know.

Go on, flee. Head to that unknown land.

Yet——

What's the situation?

Just stopped moving. She's been struggling there for two hours already, moved about ten meters since we found her.

If she really was a competent spy, she'd be playing dead to conserve her energy instead of drawing our attention like this.

It could also all be an act, to play on the Minoans' sympathy and lower their guard.

Yes, the Minoans would have trouble ignoring such a weight on the conscience. What do you think of this foreign warrior, and what she's done?

Hmph, just a trick.

She's definitely acting. You know it's Sargon's fault, their tricks and lies, that these villages took so long to...

That's a different conversation. I want you to take a closer look at her. Set aside your suspicions and look at her, see her innocence.

I appreciate your concern for the villagers' safety.....

(Sneer)

Whether it comes from a good place or not. You need only tell me, warriors of Sarkaz, how fares the outsider now?

In short, she's at death's door.

Looks like she was crossing over from Sargon, judging by her weapon and equipment. Now, she just looks like a fish out of water, struggling helplessly on Minoan soil.

Is she alone?

So far, she is... Though that might change later.

Hmm, if that's the case...

Hey, Priestess, 'Pallas'.

What is it?

It's not my job to say what's what, but since the Minoans hired me and appointed you to take command, I'll just remind you—

You're not a normal nurse, but neither are you a naive priestess who knows nothing but sympathy and forgiveness.

You're the commander of the Minoans, mentor to the budding warriors, the so-called 'Goddess' worshipped by all these Minoan villages.

If you take her in, everyone must treat her with the same amount of respect and devotion that they give to you. After all, you were the one who found her.

Yet this little warrior is, without the slightest hint of doubt, of Sargon——

Until there is peace with Sargon, she remains an enemy to Minoans, one they have to stay wary of.

Warrior, your words carry your intentions well, and reveal the breadth of your knowledge. I listen out of respect and duty.

But as you know, there exists a divide between your judgment and mine. It is a saddening reality, but it is one we must face.

I am indeed considering taking her in, and treating her wounds at the least.

Hers is a young life, one hanging by a thread. And I believe she means us no harm.

As for whether thousands of Sargon's soldiers lurk behind her shadow, that is for you to determine.

In the absence of danger, we may not fall upon the ongoing war as an excuse to abandon another's life.

(How pointless.)

Some may think this a pointless act. That is why I let the others return to their duties, while you remain here, watching over her.

Sarkaz, oh poor Sarkaz. Your callous demeanor is known far and wide, and you rely on it for survival. In other words, many among you take pride in your indifference.

One must heel to one's proficiencies. I give my orders based on this principle.

You need only ensure your mission is completed. As for other matters... they will be resolved, one way or the other.

Since you refuse to change your mind even after listening to me, wouldn't it be the same if someone else was looking after her?

You've been working as a mercenary here for three months now. I'm sure you're aware of the situation.

If it were left to the Minoans, this would be over in ten minutes, much less two hours. Their guilt would gnaw at those pure hearts of theirs, bidding them to lend a hand, regardless of the danger...

In such a scenario, how badly shaken would those sincere hearts of theirs be, if that betrayal really came to fruition?

Hah. In the end, even you admit that those villagers are way too soft-hearted, to value the life of a potential enemy.

I understand you, Sarkaz. Some of the villagers have accepted you, and the elders view you as one of our own. You have their goodwill to thank for that.

However, your needs do not lay there. Between love, or at least this love that exists between we of different races, and the payment of money that you receive, you do not believe that it is worthless.

There's nothing to discuss about that.

You live life your own way, and I have never questioned that.

But I think that Sarkaz demeanor I mentioned——perhaps you were like that, once. When we first met, you harbored a kindness not altogether pure, and a heart not completely vile.

Yet, that has changed. Your interactions with the Minoan soldiers and the villagers have spurred your thoughts. You have become an intelligent warrior brandishing your weapon of your own free will.

Your vigilance is warranted. It's just that I believe Sargon has no reason to attack right now, and neither is there a need to use such crude 'bait.'

Rather than formulating a trap to prey on others' kindness, the Sargon's troops would be far more willing to march in brashly, declaring their cruel intentions to plunder and slaughter for all to hear.

Right, right. Let's just go with what you said.

For now, let us turn our eyes to this young warrior who's wandered over from Sargon.

Just as you said, though I wish to save her...

Just as you warned, it would be far from prudent to simply bring her back to the villages.

She has no visibly open wounds, and it does not seem to be any complex disease that would require surgery.

I will attempt to treat her wounds. The consequences of this will be mine to bear.

You mean you want me to put up a tent here, so you can treat her wounds? In this place not even two kilometers from the border? Even the garrison is farther away!

Well, there's not much difference with the garrison anyway...

Don't forget your place. You're the villagers' beacon of hope, the one who will free them from the threat of Sargon.

They love you, and call you the 'Goddess of Victory', yet here you are taking such risks...

Watch your words, soldier.

...Tch.

A young woman whose guilt is yet unproven, who has waited for over two hours, struggling to keep herself awake, all for the sake of survival.

She has already passed your test——As the keenest and most vigilant Sarkaz, you are unable to bring out solid evidence of her duplicity.

And so, my heart is already filled with guilt. I cannot bear to leave her any longer.

I don't object, if you really insist on it. But... it's hard to say if that girl will even talk to you like this after she wakes up.

Just be prepared for an attack once she wakes up.