Bermuda

"Leaving already?"

Cordelia, who had just secured the gauntlets on both hands and was lifting the last remaining helmet toward her head, froze at the voice from behind and turned. Standing there was a light-brown-haired man in silver armor and a cloak bearing the emblem of the Parren Army.

He was the general of the Parren Army, the supreme commander of the forces taking part in the current subjugation of the Elder Millie Peninsula. Cordelia lowered the helmet for a moment, smiling.

"Shouldn’t I hurry and cut down at least one more?"

She had come here at the request of Bruno Amos, deputy commander of the Southern Branch, and was now in the Parren Army’s camp stationed on the western plains of the Elder Millie Peninsula.

After concluding a meeting about joint operations, she was preparing to immediately lead her knights back to the peninsula. At her spirited tone, the general gave a small, amused smile.

"You are remarkable, Lady Cordelia. Always strong, always fearless."

Her smile shifted to something more bittersweet.

"I can’t always be like that. But if I show weakness, my knights will grow uneasy. So I have to keep showing them strength."

The general’s expression turned thoughtful, as though weighing his words. After a pause, he spoke with gentle sincerity.

"Not being outwardly strong doesn’t mean you lack power. Sometimes, what seems soft or fragile can be stronger than the most solid thing."

When Cordelia tilted her head, not quite following, he raised a hand and pointed skyward.

The clouds that had poured rain for days still lay thick, yet here and there, the cover had thinned, letting pale shafts of sunlight spill down. Once her gaze followed, he said,

"That faint sunlight hidden behind the clouds can’t be touched, can’t be felt on your skin. It’s not even soft enough to be called soft, so it certainly isn’t strong."

"..."

"And yet, even the hardest ice—unyielding to a sharp blade—will inevitably melt into slush under that faint sunlight."

He finished, still watching her with that warm gaze. He looked faintly proud of his own words, but Cordelia only wore a faintly puzzled expression.

That’s just a matter of compatibility... No, no. If I start analyzing him, this could go on forever.

She knew well from experience that if she encouraged his figurative talk, it would only spiral. So she cut straight to the point.

"I see... You mean that it’s not only a strong, bold face that holds power. Even something soft, even fragile, can at times prove stronger."

"Exactly. As expected, Lady Cordelia understands perfectly."

At his satisfied smile, she gave him an awkward one.

"I’ve thought this for a while now, General, but... you say the most mysterious things."

"Haha, a Parren trait."

Of course, she knew not every Parren was like him, so she carefully kept her expression pleasant. His broad grin faded to a softer one, and his tone shifted just slightly toward the serious.

"Even if Lady Cordelia looked weary or unsteady, your valiant knights would still fight to the end to defend their lord and their land. In battle, such moments can spark a fierce resolve. So you needn’t always mask yourself behind strength. Your Grace is strong—no matter the face you show."

Cordelia blinked, holding his gaze. This time, her smile was genuine.

"Thank you, General. You truly are a reliable pillar for me."

The Parren general inclined his head gently.

She was just lifting her helmet again when a Parren soldier ran up at a near sprint.

"General, Lady Hareth—there’s a problem! Please, come quickly!"

At the urgency in his tone, Cordelia and the general exchanged a glance. With her close aides falling in beside them, they followed the soldier at once.

He led them to a stable on the outskirts of camp. A crowd of Parren soldiers and officers had already gathered. They saluted as the general and Cordelia approached, and she returned the gesture with a short nod.

The moment she looked inside, her eyes widened.

"What... happened here?"

This stable had held some of the Parren cavalry’s mounts and the spare horses of the Hareth Knights. Yet those horses, healthy and restless the night before, were gone.

Only bloodstains—likely theirs—remained, along with snapped reins and deep claw marks gouged into wood and stone.

"It seems monsters attacked at dawn," reported a Parren officer who had arrived earlier.

Cordelia’s brow furrowed.

"But how did no one notice? Where were the sentries on watch?"

In answer, /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ a nearby soldier held out a torn belt and shattered armor.

"These belonged to the sentries. Ripped apart, blood on them. Probably..."

The general’s face hardened.

"They were taken by monsters."

He glanced back into the stable, his tone grim.

"Since we’ve been stationed in the border zone, they’ve never dared this close to the main camp..."

Another officer stepped forward, showing a splintered horn trumpet and a crushed communication tube.

"The sentries’ signal gear. Destroyed—likely on purpose. They must have known these were used to raise the alarm. Wouldn’t that mean they’re highly intelligent?"

"But if they’re intelligent," Cordelia countered, "they’d also know an army is stationed here—and they wouldn’t risk the horses. The smarter they are, the more they target villages or rival monsters instead of provoking a full-scale clash. What about the horses in the stable nearer the main camp? Were they touched?"

"They’re unharmed. This was the farthest stable from camp—probably why they chose it."

One of her aides spoke up.

"Come to think of it, there was a similar case recently. Knights scouting near the 57th peak in the west left their camp briefly, and a monster took only their food and tethered horses. It happened so fast, they figured the creature must’ve been watching and struck the moment they left."

The general pondered this, then looked to Cordelia.

"Humans are prey to them too. If they’re avoiding us, it’s because they know they might lose."

A Parren officer nodded.

"Even so, avoiding battle just to steal food this close is unheard of."

"Indeed. Monsters only approach when the odds are in their favor. For this to happen now is as if..."

"They’re desperate enough to take risks," Cordelia finished.

The others nodded in agreement.

She narrowed her eyes. Desperate—for what? Could it be they sensed the Central Branch’s elite troops entering the peninsula? Or was there another cause entirely?

She couldn’t be sure, but the sudden spike in attacks felt tightly bound to the situation unfolding now. She decided she needed to return to her own territory quickly and speak with Bruno, deputy commander of the Southern Branch. At that moment—

Boom—!

A heavy, thunderous blast rolled across the western plains. The ground shuddered as though struck by an earthquake.

Everyone froze, eyes turning toward the jagged spine of peaks beyond the plains. Cordelia’s gaze shot there too, her crimson eyes narrowing, scanning the ridges.

"What was that just now...?" she murmured.

****

Delua, commander of the 6th Battalion on the border between the peninsula’s central and western sectors, also heard it. Her unit, resting after a skirmish, instantly rose and took up defensive positions.

"Commander, what was that?"

Marlene, her deputy, came running from where she had been tending the wounded. Delua, who had been poring over a map with company captains, broke off, felt the wind’s shift, then knelt and pressed a palm to the ground.

"Could it be... an earthquake?" Marlene asked, uneasy.

Delua didn’t answer. She was gauging the source, uncertain if the sound was volcanic in origin—this was, after all, an active volcanic zone.

After a long moment, she said with a conflicted look,

"The crust itself isn’t moving."

The tectonic plates are still...

She was still concentrating when a stone nearby began to tremble, rolling slightly. On the table, a pen slid an inch on its own.

The vibration swelled, and the ground began to truly quake. Delua sprang to her feet.

"Everyone, to higher ground!"

At once, the battalion seized their gear and scrambled up the cliffs. But Delua herself darted the other way—toward the rear. Marlene quickly followed.

Mid-sprint, Delua leapt—and from the ground, rocks surged upward, fusing into a massive golem that rose to the height of her jump. She landed atop its shoulder in a single bound.

Marlene soared after her, alighting beside her commander. From there, she could see beyond the ridgeline—and her eyes widened.

"Commander... is that...?"

From the mountain foothills surged a pitch-black mass, rushing like a living tide. Their numbers were staggering. Delua drew in a sharp breath.

Facing the cliff where her troops stood ready, she shouted,

"There are hundreds—no, thousands! All units of the 6th Battalion, prepare for battle!"