Bermuda

Rock debris rolled down below the split cliff, and smoke from friction hung thick in the air. Hugo exhaled a rough breath and used the greatsword stuck in the wall as a foothold to climb up in a single motion.

He tried to check on Leonardo, who should be hanging below, but the situation was grim: the water stream stretched thin over the protruding rock edge beneath the sword, swaying precariously.

Worried the water stream wrapped around the hilt might snap, Hugo carefully grasped it. Just then, a creaking sound came from above, and a huge shadow swallowed all light in the narrow ravine as it rushed down.

Raising his head to the suddenly darkened sky, Hugo saw that part of the ice barrier he had created to block falling rocks had been half-destroyed and was crashing toward him.

Steadying his breath, he fixed cold eyes on the massive chunk of ice and rock. As his frosty gaze touched its center, the ice surface spread rapidly with cracks, and fragments scattered like snowflakes with a sharp sound, as if glass were shattering.

Frowning slightly, Hugo turned his gaze away and again grasped the water stream wrapped around his hand, his expression weary. The drifting flakes melted quickly and fell as rain. He spread barriers in every direction to shield those below from falling debris and water.

But suddenly, a strange sense of wrongness brushed his fingertips.

Even considering the weight distributed on the protruding rock, what he felt now was far too light.

An ominous premonition surged. Hugo stepped down onto the rock edge below the greatsword and, keeping the water stream clear of the sharp stone, yanked it upward in one pull.

As he caught the body dragged along the end with both arms, his face darkened miserably.

Only one person had come up.

The unconscious 8th Platoon Leader alone was tied to the end of the stream.

Hugo’s expression froze. Holding her, he immediately looked down the cliff. In the dizzying abyss shrouded in darkness, only rocks tumbled past and faded—no human figure in sight.

“Ha—.” 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Sighing in confusion, a brutal aura rose on his face. His lips tightened, and blue veins swelled starkly along his jaw and neck.

When?

After staring down with a menacing gaze, Hugo shifted the 8th Platoon Leader so her head rested safely on his shoulder, then secured her in one arm.

Turning his eyes again to the endless cliff below, he pulled out the greatsword from the wall with his free hand. The chill radiating from him clashed with the heat rising from beneath, filling the air with thick fog. Lowering his stance, he prepared to leap into the darkness—when it happened.

“Commander!”

Hugo’s body froze mid-motion—not by his will, but another’s.

He turned to the side, feeling his arm gripped hard, and saw Liner Molten, commander of the 9th Battalion of the Southern Branch, and Charlotte Hastings, his deputy, holding onto him. They had followed at full speed, unaware of the Council Commander’s sudden disappearance.

The moment they stopped him, the cliff section split by his sword cracked vertically and tilted, collapsing toward the opposite wall.

Sensing the urgency, Liner and Charlotte looked up as members of the 1st Battalion appeared in the air, striking the collapsing rock and narrowly preventing a collision.

They had been retreating and searching for scattered comrades after the horde of Dermocas abruptly broke off their attack and fled. Then, sensing the Commander’s powerful mana nearby, they had rushed over at once.

Thanks to them, the collision was averted for the moment. But seeing the worsening situation, Liner gripped Hugo’s injured right arm and spoke firmly,

“You have to fall back.”

But Hugo, impatience plain in his eyes, looked down the cliff.

“There are still two people down there.”

“You already spent too much mana—from the plains a few hours ago to the ice wall above. If you go any further, even you could be in danger.”

Liner’s judgment was brutally rational. Hugo, hiding his frustration, forced his voice to stay calm.

“I’m fine. Let go of my arm.”

Though spoken gently, his words were as firm as stone. Liner’s brow furrowed, and he resolutely countered,

“I cannot.”

At that, Hugo’s gaze turned icy. He warned Liner sharply, his tone like frozen steel.

“That’s an order.”

At the suddenly frigid voice, Liner and Charlotte flinched. Then, shifting his eyes to Charlotte holding his other arm, Hugo passed the unconscious Platoon Leader into her care.

“I entrust Platoon Leader Russell to you.”

“...Pardon?”

Charlotte blinked, bewildered as she received the burden. Hugo used the moment to shake free and move to glide down again. But Liner instantly blocked his path.

Hugo frowned, annoyed, but Liner spoke on, undeterred.

“Commander, there’s no mana, no presence at all nearby except ours. Retreat for now—we can search again later.”

“All the more reason to find them now. If they can’t use mana, that means the situation is dire!”

His raised voice echoed through the ravine.

His brutal eyes and voice carried raw anger.

Liner, startled—never having seen the Council Commander like this—held his breath. But even so, he saw in Hugo’s fury his own reflection from earlier, when he had raged over the deaths of his men.

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand. In truth, he understood better than anyone. But just as the rational Commander had once ordered him to rest instead of giving in to emotion, now someone had to remind Hugo that what he sought was not the choice of a commander.

Hugo exhaled through clenched teeth, struggling ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) for composure, and tried to pass. But Liner, resolved, blocked him again. Though knowing it was presumptuous, he seized Hugo’s shoulders and shouted, face contorted,

“Commander!”

The roar of collapsing cliffs and shattering ice filled the ravine, but Liner’s voice cut through, fierce enough to shake Hugo’s mind.

“You must judge rationally. If you risk yourself to save them, all of us here could fall with you!”

When Liner arrived, those Hugo sought were already gone from sight. To dive after them now, under a collapsing cliff, was uncharacteristic recklessness. Worse, injured and exhausted as he was, it was sheer folly.

Hugo flinched at the words that his fall could doom them all. Seeing it, Liner pressed on, his tone calmer now, appealing to Hugo’s sense of duty.

“I lost two subordinates only hours ago. I know the sorrow of failing to protect them better than anyone. But we both have too many left to protect, too many responsibilities to bear, to lose ourselves to that sorrow.”

“...”

“If you fall, Commander, our Council falls into chaos. For our sake, I beg you—make the wiser choice.”

Liner’s amber eyes burned fiercely.

“You must come with us.”

His low voice rang with unshakable clarity.

Meeting those eyes, Hugo—whose thoughts had been fixed on the two who had fallen—suddenly felt his mind torn open.

The flood of thoughts widened his vision, opened his ears. Yet his body refused to move.

“The mountain will collapse soon!”

“You have to escape!”

The shouts of the 1st Battalion struggling in the distance reached faintly. Every part of the situation barred his path. Surrounded by voices declaring he was in the most urgent danger, Hugo wavered, unable to decide.

Yet, bitterly, he realized he bore responsibility for every one of them.

Liner, blocking him with unyielding resolve, saw Hugo’s wavering face and motioned for him to look aside.

Hugo followed his gaze and saw Charlotte Hastings with the unconscious 8th Platoon Leader in her arms.

The platoon leader’s forehead was torn and bleeding, likely from the earlier blast.

Hugo’s eyes shook. He had held her just moments before, yet had been so consumed he hadn’t noticed the wound. With a pained hand, he wiped her brow. The blood stopped, and the wound sealed in an instant.

But the scar remained.

Then the cliffs on both sides began to collapse as though closing the sky. Walls of stone collided, sinking everything at terrifying speed. The crash of debris and explosions against barriers in the air turned the place into a battlefield.

Staring at the ruin around him, Hugo lowered the hand that had healed her. Further torment was meaningless.

He turned to Liner, who still held his shoulders.

Hugo marveled that the battalion commander, who had only recently buried his men with his own eyes, could remain so steady.

To the one who blocked his way and spoke hard truths, Hugo said with deep respect,

“Thank you for reminding me, Battalion Commander Molten.”

Hearing his calm voice, Liner studied him.

The turmoil had subsided. His blue eyes were steady again, their frozen clarity restored. Liner let out a breath of relief. He released Hugo’s shoulders with a light salute.

Hugo watched that hand, closed his eyes tightly, then opened them to meet Liner’s gaze.

“But... they might be waiting for me.”

At the strange words, Liner reflexively asked,

“...What?”

After a brief silence, Hugo gave a faint, regretful smile.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Before Liner could react, Hugo slipped past him and plunged into the darkness.

He dropped fast, too fast to stop. Those watching could only stare, mute.

Like a dam bursting, earth and sand roared out through the split cliff.

The rocks collapsed, dust surged, and the vast mountain sank, dragging every peak in the area down with it.

In the reddened, exposed soil, only monster corpses remained tangled here and there. Not a single trace of those who had fallen into the abyss was found.

Charlotte, the 8th Platoon Leader, and the nearby troops escaped the collapsing ravine safely.

Among them, Hugo and Liner were not there.