The Duke’s Eldest Son Escaped to the Military

TL: Pai_

While Crimson captured Iron's final battle in his eyes, Iron was squeezing out every ounce of his strength to surpass his limits.

He risked his life to surpass his limits, to prove that the sacrifice made for him wasn't in vain.

The clash of the colossal axe and the white sword created shockwaves, dividing the surrounding energy into two fierce currents. Yet, a decisive outcome remained elusive.

-Interesting. You keep growing?

Heurimre smiled, amused, as he watched Iron.

Though Iron, breaking through his barriers, was growing rapidly as if something blocked had been cleared, Heurimre was growing stronger at an equal pace.

Heurimre himself did not understand why this was happening, but the power that had been constrained was unraveling at a rapid speed.

Because of this, Heurimre could continue to maintain equal standing with Iron.

"Kugh!"

Iron grimaced as he received an even stronger strike from Heurimre.

However, determined not to yield, he firmly planted his feet and endured the blow.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Kuuung!

-Not bad.

Seeing Iron display such formidable strength right after barely overcoming a wall, Heurimre wore a satisfied smile.

"Why…?"

Iron’s expression was filled with incomprehension as he watched Heurimre’s smile.

The longer the battle with Heurimre dragged on, the more questions swirled in his mind.

It was undeniably a much stronger strike than before.

Even more powerful than when he fought the two Family Heads.

And here arose the question:

Why hadn’t Heurimre used such strength from the beginning?

Was he simply toying with them?

Did he still have power in reserve?

Yet, the more Iron fought Heurimre, the more convinced he became that this wasn’t the case.

‘He’s not the type to play around while risking a fatal wound….’

Iron glanced at the critical injury on Heurimre’s side, tilting his head in confusion.

There are warriors who enjoy battle so much that they revel in it even when their lives are hanging by a thread.

But Heurimre didn’t seem like that type at all.

As Heurimre grew stronger with each passing moment, Iron’s confusion deepened. Heurimre, too, was pondering the strange phenomenon occurring within his body.

"The constraints on my power are unraveling…"

Heurimre chuckled faintly as he observed the gradual lifting of the restraints on his strength.

As a being who had lived for countless years, he had already grasped the nature of this phenomenon.

'Because I’ve become a participant in this game called the Apocalypse, the constraints are gradually lifting. Though it feels like there’s more to it… I can’t discern the full picture at this moment.'

While making such speculations, Heurimre recalled the immense force that had restricted his power.

It had been designed by a higher entity than himself, or perhaps something akin to the 'Will of the Universe', to impose constraints at first but then gradually release them as the higher entities awakened.

If that were the case, then why?

As his thoughts reached this point, Heurimre muttered to himself unconsciously.

-For the sake of… entertainment?

Hearing Heurimre’s murmur, Iron stopped mid-swing and stared intently at him.

-Do you want to know?

“……”

-Figure it out for yourself.

At those words, Iron bit his lip tightly.

‘There are still far too many things I don’t understand.’

As this thought crossed his mind, Iron gripped his sword with even greater resolve.

Without a doubt, he had become incomparably stronger compared to his previous life. Humanity had built a far more formidable force than ever before to overcome destruction.

Yet, despite this, the war still felt insurmountable.

As if humanity’s growth had been precariously capped, forcing them to struggle within these limits.

Above all, the greatest issue was the uncertainty surrounding when this Apocalypse would finally end.

-Is this the limit you can display at this moment in time?

At Heurimre’s question, Iron did not respond with words. Instead, he pushed his divine power to its absolute limits.

All the divine power that could not be fused into the Aura Blade surged, enhancing Iron’s physical body. The remaining divine power concentrated on his back, forming massive wings of light.

Though it resembled the form Iron had displayed when he first appeared before Heurimre, the magnitude of the power now was on an entirely different level.

In response, Heurimre also unleashed the maximum power he could muster at 'this moment in time'.

A more clearly defined ice crown materialized.

The blue axe became sharper and more vivid.

Finally, ice armor encased his massive body.

In the majestic form he had once shown during the Mythical Age, Heurimre swung his axe down, only to be stopped by the blade of the human hero.

Kuuuung!

The moment the sword and the colossal axe clashed, part of the mountain range crumbled, and a massive vortex of energy formed.

-...Is it a draw?

“……”

At Heurimre’s words, Iron silently raised his sword again.

Though he showed fighting spirit as if he could do more, Heurimre gestured with his head pointing behind.

-Maintain a warrior's honor. We can fight again next time...

As Heurimre spoke and turned away, Iron questioned him.

"Why... are you trying to protect human honor?"

To Iron's question, Heurimre, still turned away, answered.

-In the past, there was one like you. Someone who longed for the light, chased after it, only to fall into despair and be broken. I thought you would follow the same path… but…

Heurimre glanced up at the sky as he spoke.

-But you overcame it. This is my reward for one who overcame despair. And it is also for the honor of that great being who created such a miracle.

With those words, the King of Giants began to walk away, and the frost giants gradually started retreating, one by one.

Perhaps because their trusted frost giants had decided to retreat, the monsters also stopped fighting and withdrew to their original positions.

"…Did we survive?"

Lioner, dazed, watched the retreating enemies.

The two Family Heads had steeled themselves for death, as had everyone else.

Yet, with the frost giants retreating, they now had a chance to reorganize.

Humanity had been given one more opportunity.

As everyone reflected on the grueling battle and began to think about the next fight, the 'hero' who had contributed the most to this victory approached the benefactor who had sacrificed himself to save him.

“……”

Iron stood silently, looking at Crimson, who wore a peaceful smile with his eyes closed.

Crimson, standing with both hands resting on the sword planted into the ground, had passed away in that position. His appearance was incredibly serene.

As if he had fulfilled everything he had to do, Crimson even wore a satisfied smile.

"…Commander."

The commanders of the Northeast, who had rushed over from afar, collapsed to their knees before Crimson.

Iron Wall Division Commander Valios Guard, Ranger Division Commander Davin Archer, Knight Order Commander Cassim Knights, Mountain Corps Commander Oz Tereivo, and Fog Corps Commander Fogg Coshway - all wept in sorrow over Crimson’s death.

Finally, Vanguard Corps Commander Caeden Wall arrived and, instead of tears, voiced his resentment toward Crimson.

"If you were getting old, you should’ve stayed back! Why did you step forward like this?!"

At Caeden Wall’s voice, filled with grief and reproach, the knights of the Northeast lowered their heads while shedding tears.

The entire Northeast mourned the death of the commander who had steadfastly held them together during countless crises.

And the same was true for the Mobile Field Army.

As many of its members were from the Northeast, they gathered around Crimson, standing tall even in death, and wept.

"…I’m sorry."

Iron apologized, bowing his head to those who were crying.

"He died trying to protect me…"

Iron couldn’t finish his sentence and swallowed his tears.

Then Ariel, too, asked for forgiveness.

"I'm sorry... for not being able to protect you."

Even though they had cut down numerous frost warriors and frost giants and stood against the frost giant warrior chief, in the end, they couldn’t prevent Crimson’s death.

But no one present could blame either of them.

After all, they too had failed to protect Crimson.

And above all, seeing Iron and Ariel's appearance, any words of blame would disappear before they could be spoken.

Ariel’s battered and broken state made it clear how much effort she had poured into holding back the frost warrior chief.

The same was true for Iron.

Though his wounds had healed, his tattered clothing told the story of a man who had fought with every ounce of his strength to ensure Crimson wouldn’t regret his sacrifice.

"How long do you intend to leave a hero like this?"

At Lioner’s words, everyone turned to look at him.

It was surprising to see the Lion Family Head, known for his reticence, stepping forward, but it spoke volumes about Crimson’s remarkable courage and achievements in this battle.

"Shouldn’t the hero finally be allowed to rest?"

Lioner gazed at Crimson as he spoke, and everyone followed his gaze to look at Crimson.

His shoulders were partially split open, his body covered in fatal wounds, and dried blood caked his figure.

One look at his battered form was enough to tell how much he had endured to protect Iron.

It was immediately apparent how much pain he must have borne to burn through his last remaining flame.

That made the grief even more overwhelming.

"I will… I will take him."

Jaiden Wicks, who was closest to Crimson, struggled to hold back his tears as he gently laid Crimson’s upright body down.

"I'll... help too."

Iron, the one for whom Crimson had burned his final flame, stepped forward to assist Jaiden Wicks.

Together, Iron and Jaiden Wicks spread a fine cloth and laid Crimson upon it.

The one who was closest to him in life and Iron, who made his last moments honorable, arranged his body and placed his sword in both hands.

"Escort the hero!"

As Lioner raised his sword and gave the command, the knights lined up in formation and created a path to the castle.

Knights from the Northern Army, Southern Army, and Eastern Army alike gathered, forming ranks and raising their swords in tribute.

Then Crimson was placed into a makeshift coffin and lifted up.

Jaiden Wicks, Iron, newly promoted Master Ariel, and Vanguard Corps Commander Caeden carried the coffin, walking along the path of swords created by the lined-up knights.

The commanders and the two Family Heads flanked the procession, guarding it.

It was to honor the glorious path of a war hero.

When Crimson’s body, following the path of swords, reached the castle, the bodies of those who had fallen in the battle against the frost giants were also brought in, one by one.

Once all the bodies had been brought into the castle, they were placed into pre-prepared coffins, and the lids were sealed.

"The war… is not yet over."

Karl spoke with difficulty, and everyone turned to him.

Though everyone wished to grieve and hold proper funerals for the hero and the fallen, the war was not yet finished.

Therefore, they had to hold simplified funerals and continue with the war.

They could hold grand funerals again after victory, but for now, this was necessary.

Understanding this, everyone wore heavy expressions as they looked at Crimson’s coffin.

"The Commander... left me a message."

Sky Renz, the next Master candidate, spoke carefully.

The commanders and officers turned to him with attention.

"If he were to die... he hoped we would follow the old customs of the Northeast."

At Sky Renz’ statement, a few commanders tilted their heads in confusion.

However, those who hailed from the Northeast understood immediately.

"Did he truly… wish for that?"

At Caeden Wall’s question, Sky Renz nodded heavily.

"He said it was just an old man's ramblings, but he also mentioned that this battle might be his last. If he ordered if he were to die, he requested that his funeral follow the old customs of the Northeast."

The old custom of the Northeast.

It was a tradition of leaving the coffin containing the body of the deceased on the battlefield until the war was over.

Those who wished remained, even in death, to see the battlefield eventually lead to victory.

The survivors, in turn, would fight with even more determination to ensure the bodies of those who died honorably wouldn't be disgraced, and the dead would be able to savor victory even after death.

This tradition was born from the Northeast's resolve, forged through countless grueling battles and a constant readiness for the worst, a tradition embodying their unyielding will to ensure their line would never be broken.

"…Let us honor his wishes."

At Jeden Wicks' words, everyone looked at him.

"I want to give him the victory of this war."

At the Northern Commander's words, everyone nodded heavily.

A custom that might be considered foolish.

But at this very moment, its impact was undeniable.

Because in everyone's eyes burned the determination that they absolutely could not be breached.