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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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It was a flawless victory. Both sides were caught off guard, but we reacted faster.
The rebels hadn’t expected us to bring in our stockpiled equipment and rearm the prisoners in just three hours.
But such a decisive victory came with a price.
“Gah! Healer! Pain relief magic, now!”
“Are you sure he’ll be alright?”
“Don’t move, soldier!”
The infirmary was in chaos. The knights had returned triumphant, but nearly fifty of them were wounded. Many had been injured in the hasty redeployment, falling from their horses or aggravating old wounds.
Fortunately, there were no fatalities.
“Please be patient! We’re treating the most critical injuries first!”
“There’s no rush, Saintess!”
“You’re the best!”
Iris moved through the infirmary, her healing magic mending broken bones and closing wounds. She was a one-woman army, restoring our fighting strength. It was as if we had repelled the enemy without losing a single soldier.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Could you cast some pain relief spells on the soldiers who are in agony?”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“Then would you mind stepping outside? You’re blocking the healers.”
“Uh… alright.”
Iris was always curt and businesslike when she was healing. Perhaps it was the pressure of dealing with life-or-death situations.
I retreated, watching her work. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she moved from patient to patient.
A thought struck me.
“Beautiful…”
She was breathtaking. The Saintess in her element.
I had only seen her at the Imperial University, and I had forgotten… She was a true Saintess, in every sense of the word.
She would be working through the night to treat all these people. And yet, she never lost her smile.
It was awe-inspiring.
I decided not to disturb her any further and left the infirmary.
Soldiers and knights lined the castle walls, keeping watch. We had just retaken the castle, we couldn’t afford to lose it to a surprise attack.
I had sent word to the merchants waiting in the Duchy of Monak. They would arrive in the morning with much-needed supplies.
We wouldn’t have to resort to plundering the Fourth Castle.
Looking out from the walls, I saw soldiers collecting the enemy dead.
They were retrieving their equipment and burying the bodies to prevent the spread of disease.
“C-Commander-in-Chief! Good evening, sir!”
“At ease, soldiers. Why do you all look so stiff?”
“N-nothing, sir…”
The atmosphere turned frigid as Pelaine approached. The soldiers were collecting beastmen corpses, piling them into a mass grave.
It was understandable that they felt uncomfortable in the presence of their beastman commander.
“These are the bastards who gave us so much trouble. Why not spit on them while you’re at it?”
“W-we couldn’t do that, sir!”
Please just leave, Pelaine.
The soldiers’ faces had drained of color. I was starting to feel sorry for them.
“The Saintess treats all the dead with respect, regardless of their affiliation! Surely, following her example is the right thing to do!”
“Ah… uh… you’re right. My apologies. Carry on.”
“Yes, Commander-in-Chief!”
Pelaine, easily swayed, retreated, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. I couldn’t bear to watch any longer and left the wall.
Despite the late hour, the city was still bustling. People gathered in the square, chatting. Others visited the cathedral. Children ran through the streets, filled with a newfound sense of freedom.
We can win this war.
Seeing this, I knew we had a chance.
My biggest fear had been that even if we recaptured all the castles, we would never win the hearts and minds of the people.
What if they clung to their identity as members of the Southern Republic, resisting to the bitter end? We would have to resort to brutal suppression, turning the South into a bloodbath.
But the people were willing to switch sides.
That was enough.
We could win this. No, we would win.
“Mr. Schlus Hainkel, the preparations for the state funeral are complete.”
“What? Already?”
A beastman guard approached me with the news.
The funeral for Darius.
It was supposed to be a state-funded event, but the beastmen had insisted on paying for it themselves, pooling their resources to honor their fallen hero.
I had expected it to take a few days, but they had managed it in just six hours?
I was skeptical.
Had they cut corners, neglecting their hero’s final rites?
“This way, sir.”
“…!”
I followed the guard to the cathedral, and I was stunned.
White flowers adorned the altar. They had gathered every flower in the Fourth Castle. A polished coffin, crafted in the Freya Empire style, rested before the altar.
They had done a remarkable job.
The cathedral was already filled with people, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
“Damn it…”
I wasn’t ready.
I had appointed Darius a knight posthumously. It was my duty to deliver the eulogy, to recount his achievements.
I had planned to take my time, to prepare a proper speech…
“Shall we begin now? We can postpone it until tomorrow night if you prefer.”
“No. The people are waiting. Announce that the funeral will begin in one hour.”
“Yes, sir.”
It seemed I would have to do a lot of talking today.
Past midnight, despite the darkness, people continued to stream into the cathedral. The interior was packed, and the crowd spilled out into the square.
It would be impossible for everyone to pay their respects individually. It would take days.
We had to shorten the ceremony. It was a state funeral, but these were wartime conditions.
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“Mr. Schlus Hainkel…”
“Mr. Schlus…”
A hush fell over the crowd as a human man emerged from the square.
Schlus Hainkel.
The Emperor’s knight, who had appeared like a comet.
His arrival had revitalized the suppression force, allowing them to retake the Fourth Castle and challenge the rebels.
He hadn’t spoken of his accomplishments, but everyone knew. He was the true leader of the suppression force.
“I thank you all for coming to pay your respects, despite the late hour and the short notice.”
Silence fell over the cathedral and the square as Schlus stepped up to the altar. He scanned the crowd, his expression unreadable, before continuing.
“Some of you may find it offensive that I, a human, am here to speak of Darius’s achievements. If anyone feels they can better represent his legacy, please step forward and speak in my place.”
“….”
“Since no one has volunteered, I will continue. Darius was a beacon of hope for the beastmen revolution. He ignited a flame in the hearts of the oppressed beastmen slaves of the South, illuminating their path and guiding them out of darkness. His achievements are too numerous to list. It would be impossible to recount every act of heroism that lives on in your memories.”
The beastmen were stunned.
They had expected a perfunctory ceremony, a formality for a respected enemy. But Schlus was honoring Darius as a hero.
He was acknowledging his legacy without a hint of condescension.
“It is a tragedy that Darius’s dream remains unfulfilled. The so-called Southern Republic continues to conscript beastmen, sending them into battle ill-equipped and unprepared. We, the suppression force, vow to carry on Darius’s legacy, fighting for the complete liberation of the beastmen of the South.”
“…!”
It was a jarring statement.
The crowd was speechless, reeling from his words.
They had instinctively viewed the Empire as evil and the Southern Republic as righteous.
They had scoffed at the suppression force’s Emancipation Proclamation.
But now, they were confused.
Had Darius been driven to his death by Lorraine’s reckless orders? Was the suppression force, the one honoring Darius with a state funeral, truly the enemy?
“In recognition of Darius’s heroic deeds and his spirit of self-sacrifice, I hereby posthumously appoint him a knight of the Freya Empire. And I, Schlus Hainkel, will bestow upon him a new name.”
A new name?
Murmurs rippled through the cathedral.
“Darius von Rebel. May you rest in peace.”
Rebel.
A word that meant traitor or resister in the Imperial language.
Schlus bowed his head, and the crowd followed suit, observing a moment of silence.
They were paying their respects to the hero who had ended decades of slavery for the beastmen of the South.
“We will now proceed with the funeral procession.”
Four figures approached the coffin. Two humans and two beastmen. Together, they lifted the coffin and carried it down the aisle.
Outside, the square was filled with people holding lanterns. Each lantern emitted a faint, flickering light, barely brighter than a candle.
But together, they formed a sea of light, illuminating Darius’s final journey.
Just as he had lit the way for the beastmen, they were now lighting his path.
“Oops…!”
A child dropped their lantern. It floated upwards, rising above the crowd, carried by the wind.
Schlus released his own lantern.
Two lanterns ascended into the dark sky, like miniature hot air balloons.
One by one, the beastmen followed suit, releasing their lanterns into the night. As if in a trance, they watched the lights rise, unsure of the meaning behind their actions.
“Wow…”
The faint lights filled the sky, it was a breathtaking spectacle. Tears welled up in the eyes of the beastmen as they watched.
Under this radiant sky, Darius began his final journey to his resting place.
“Hmph. Quite the extravagant affair. Hic! A fancy coffin made of expensive wood and paint, hundreds of lanterns…”
“….”
A drunken human knight stumbled towards Schlus, sneering. Other knights moved to pull him away, but Schlus stopped them with a raised hand.
He looked down at the drunken knight, who glared back at him defiantly.
“A filthy beastman rebel gets a grander funeral than our own knights? Tsk…”
“What unit are you from, soldier?”
“Imperial Knights, 33rd Company! What are you going to do about it? Report me to the Vice-Commander? Go ahead—”
“The suppression force is united.”
“Huh?”
“We may come from different backgrounds, different units, but we fight as one. Am I wrong?”
“No, sir… But why are you—”
“Do you hold funerals with only one arm?”
“No, sir…”
“Many of our comrades are still lost, still asleep. When we have recovered them all, when the suppression force is whole again, then we will hold a proper state funeral. Do you still have any complaints?”
“N-no, sir. My apologies…”
The knight, suddenly sober, bowed his head.
Respect bloomed in his heart.
And he wasn’t the only one. The other knights, watching the exchange, felt the same way.
They were beginning to truly respect Schlus Hainkel, the unassuming university student.
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[Your Text Here]
A Light in the Darkness
