Chapter 22: A Battle That Will Decide Everything (5)

“They’re here?” Komer opened his eyes and took a deep breath, remaining motionless in his chair.
Mahagumi’s face turned slightly pale, a rare occurrence for this half-orc hybrid. He was well aware of his own fate—once Komer was defeated, he too would be reduced to his original form. No mortal had any goodwill toward him. Apart from Komer, he knew his fate depended entirely on him; without Komer, he was nothing.
“They’re here. They didn’t hide anything. They set out directly from Marco. By now, they’ve probably passed the orc-controlled area and entered our territory.” Mahagumi tried hard to appear calm and composed in front of his master, but he found it impossible. The immense pressure of gain and loss nearly overwhelmed him. He knew his master was facing the same pressure, but Komer’s calm demeanor gave him some confidence.
“Hmm, they’re quite fast. Perfect. I was worried they’d dawdle, making it hard to explain things to the Salabians and Jellyfolk. It seems just right—a perfect battle.” Komer said leisurely, “Mahagumi, are you afraid?”
“Afraid?” Mahagumi was stunned. Was he afraid?
It seemed he hadn’t felt fear even when struggling to survive in Leon’s mines, where companions died silently from mine collapses or succumbed to exhaustion. Back then, he seemed to know nothing about fear. But now? Now he seemed to feel it—a fear not of death, but of losing everything he had.
If he really lost his life, there would be no regrets. But to be stripped of everything he had and forced back to his original life conditions… Mahagumi thought he might go mad. He couldn’t lose all this. If he had to be deprived of it, it would be better to be deprived of his life instead.
Komer noticed Mahagumi seemed distracted, likely because his question had touched upon a hidden secret in Mahagumi’s heart. It had been a long time since he had spoken with this half-orc hybrid, who could be considered his most trusted confidant. This seemingly rough-looking man actually had a sensitivity no less profound than that of any mortal.

“My lord, orcs have never known fear. Losing one’s life is no big deal, as long as it’s worth it. You have given Mahagumi so much, and he is very satisfied. If the Light Church truly wants to take away everything that belongs to us orcs, I believe that even if we fight to the last man, we will never compromise. I also believe the same holds true for the barbarians,” Mahagumi said word by word. “This is not mere talk; it is the voice of us orcs and barbarians.”

Komer was surprised to hear such words from Mahagumi, as if he were swearing loyalty to him on behalf of the orcs and barbarians. Yet Mahagumi seemed to not realize that this battle was not a true war but rather a duel between knights. Only a limited number of people were qualified to fight, yet the outcome would determine the fate of entire Nicomedia.

“Mahagumi, there’s no need to be so serious and tense. I admit I’m not entirely confident about this battle. But there’s a saying: until it’s truly over, all predictions and realities are false. We just need to look at the result.” Komer smiled. “This is not a battle of faith, but a battle of power. If they want to take away everything that belongs to us, we have no choice. I never advocate war, unless it’s for peace. And this battle will establish peace for Nicomedia.”

Mahagumi stood up, bowed deeply, then calmly raised his gaze toward Komer. “My lord, Mahagumi will not say any flattery. Everything I, my companions, and all the barbarians possess now is a gift from you. We can’t help in this battle, and we feel guilty. But we orcs and barbarians will pray for you. The god of war, Mars, will stand by your side and bless you. We look forward to your victorious return.”

An indescribable sense of pride and satisfaction filled Komer’s heart. These were true subjects. He hadn’t given them much, and even deep down he still held various prejudices. Yet it was these orcs and barbarians, whom he often saw as tools, who had remained loyal to him without wavering. With such subjects, even if he died in battle, what was there to regret?

More than thirty knights marched in a line along the road stretching across the wilderness. Among the uniformly gray-robed knights, a few monks in varied colors stood out sharply. It seemed everyone deliberately kept silence; not a sound was heard throughout the journey.

Noyora glanced at the tall knight walking beside her. His body, straight as a pine tree, remained unchanged even after hours on horseback. Even Noyora had to admire the demeanor that this man unconsciously displayed.
“Lord Noyora, have we already entered Homer’s territory?” The middle-aged knight’s gaze was calm, yet the invisible pressure it exerted made even Noyora, who had never feared anyone, feel a sense of pressure.
“Mm. We’ll cut through here, pass through the Bosen Plain, then cross the Greenland Forest and the Nise River to enter Leon, which belongs to the Greater Caucasus. It’s a paradise for half-orcs. Beyond Leon lies the Caucasus itself.” In Caesar’s presence, Noyora could only slightly restrain her usual arrogance, though her inherent pride remained evident.
“It seems our opponent is quite confident. There hasn’t been a single obstacle along the way.”
“Perhaps it’s not confidence, but rather an understanding of his own strength. In such a situation, he won’t try to fight a battle he can’t win.” Noyora smirked as well.
“Then does Lord Noyora think he’ll be waiting for us in the Caucasus?” the middle-aged knight asked in return.
“Of course. Komer isn’t the kind to give up easily. Though I’m at odds with him, I still have to admit he’s a formidable opponent. He can’t back down. For him, it’s a matter of Nicomedia’s fate. If he avoids battle, everything he’s fought for over the years will slip away from him. Even the dark forces behind him won’t tolerate that. He has no choice but to fight!”
Noyora’s gaze toward the south turned fervent. No one could avoid this battle—neither Komer, nor Caesar, nor herself!