CHAPTER 465

PUSHING FORTH

Though Rio had made peace with these moments being his last, the fate seemingly had different plans for him; as the accumulation of corporeal shadows bunched together above him into an all-cleaving blade, beginning to catch up to his falling speed, he closed his eyes, letting the somewhat chilly wind graze his cheeks. It would, at least, be painless, he mused.

The sky shook all of a sudden, causing him to jolt his eyes open in wonder; the cleaving blade exploded into bits and pieces, the shattered shards collapsing around him like rain. Digging through it all was a small yet terribly powerful torrent of darkness-encased daggers which continued their flight upward, piercing through dozens of skulls, causing blood and gore to spray over through the sky as the Devil’s formation collapsed.

Turning around, Rio glanced at the ground; from the reaches of the forest, he saw shadows darting out, veils of blades shot out one after another, daggers flying as arrays of light, their physical shape indiscernible. The source of the daggers that saved him, however, didn’t belong to the group that immediately darted toward the battlefield, bounding in a rapid onslaught from the flanks, cutting through the Hell’s formation like a hot knife through butter.

The source was a pale-skinned man clad in a black cloak, black coat, and black pants and boots, standing leaned against the tree, casually glancing at him. He had a pair of yellowish eyes and was by all accounts the enviable, handsome sort that Rio never did get along with. Even if his pride took a hit because Yun saved him, he could hardly complain. Shafting his body around, he landed somewhat gracefully right next to him, rolling once to stabilize his footing before leaping up.

As always, Yun was expressionless, seemingly apathetic to everything. Rio always envied him, not merely because of his looks, but also the fact that he’d spent his formative years as a Shadow – one of the most revered positions in the Empire, and one which Rio failed to meet the requirements for.

“—thanks,” Rio mumbled. “How long did you wait?”

“… a few moments,” Yun said. “I wanted to see whether you could take care of it.”

“… you are… aah, you really are terrible.” Rio sighed, shaking his head and turning toward the battlefield. With the reinforcements, the positions rapidly switched; from the defensive, hold-your-ground standing, the Empire’s army pushed the Hell’s back, further and further. “You did arrive in the nick of time, though. I didn’t expect we’d be so outnumbered today.”

“Nobody did,” Yun said. “It’s outside the scope of predictions.”

“Will the rest be coming?” Rio asked.

“Xia should,” Yun replied. “Naima was re-routed north. Apparently, things aren’t perfect there either.”

“…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hide,” Yun said, as though reading Rio’s thoughts. “But, I’ll say it again – give it up. Find a homely girl once you retire.”

“… tsk, easy for you to say,” Rio grunted. “The rest of us have to take our chances, you know?”

“The pretense being that there’s a chance.”

“Hey!!”

“—I don’t get your obsession with her, to be honest,” Yun shrugged. “She’s a mindless brute. I don’t think I’ve seen her not ripping someone’s heart out even once.”

“… that’s what makes her so amazing,” Rio said, his tone turning somewhat dreamy. “Can you imagine how kinky she must be in bed? Huh?”

“… I’d really rather not.”

“… dammit man, is there a single woman out there you find attractive?” Rio protested, taking out a gourd of water and downing half its contents in one go. “Or is it really as the rumors say? That part of the becoming a Shadow is flipping over? So, you into dudes now?”

“…” Yun glanced at Rio with a strange look, one which seemed to wordlessly proclaim Rio the world’s prime moron. “No wonder you couldn’t take on all those Devils alone, what with your head full of that kind of crap.”

“Fuck, you’re one really hateful bastard.” Rio grumbled. “Fine, whatever. Let’s go. It seems to be coming to a close.”

The two walked off from the edge of the forest and back into the open field, passing by the support squads who were slowly beginning to set up tents. By the time two reached the front, the battle had ceased; the Devils withdrew, while they remained standing, not giving into the pursuit. Save for Yun’s men, the rest were tired, and Devils still numbered in good thousands altogether. It was simply too risky to chase to abrasively.

“General!!” someone suddenly cried out as Rio came to a front, the people who just sat shooting up to their feet. “He’s alive, everyone!! The General’s alive!!”

“Aii, General, you looked so cool right there!” the young men slowly cornered Rio, their eyes shining like stars as they looked at him. “You think you could teach us those tricks?”

“Yes, yes!! How did you do that whoosh-boom-bang and then flew super high and killed them?!”

“Ah! Look at that! No wound to be found on his body!”

“Wow! General Rio is really the best!”

“…” Rio could hear the faint crackle, the devious one, piercing his ears; his pride swelled, yet his eyes were borderline weeping. Why was it that only his men ever thought he was cool?! It was unjust! “Alright, alright everyone, settle down. Rest for now, we’ll push our camp further out once we recover and regroup. Take proper care of your fallen brothers, alright? Good job today.”

As they were already well-experienced in it, a temporary camp was set up quickly, with tents and campfires rising from the ground like mushrooms after rain. The hungry ate, the tired slept, the sad wept, and those who sought improvement reflected upon today's battle. It was scores more hectic than the usual skirmishes which tended to last less than an hour, ending up with far fewer casualties on both sides.

Rio sighed as he watched one pyre after another being lit up, smoke dousing the high sky. A single memento was saved from the each fallen, their names recorded, so that it could be returned to their families if they had any, or put into the Hall of the Fallen alongside the countless other relics of the dead. There was hardly enough time for the proper ceremonies, and pyres were preferred over burials as the lands around were still heavily contested, and it was never a certainty they won't return to battle over the mass grave, digging all the corpses back up.

Minutes ticked by rather slowly as Rio sat, going over the battle in his mind; he could have done better, yet he also outdid himself. Reflection was worth it, he realized, as the difference between sparing with his subordinates and actually fighting the Hell's Army was beyond massive. Though his aspirations weren't massive, he still thought he could do slightly better than 'just' being a General – after all, he was still fairly young, having just turned thirty this summer, and he could make it far if he persisted. He still fondly remembered the day he came to the Empyrion as a small, no-name refugee. He'd come far from the scrappy recruit who could barely condense enough Qi to formulate a single icicle.

The booming earth beneath shook him awake as his lips curled up into an involuntary smile. He could recognize the tremors of the Hell Horses anywhere, a special breed used almost exclusively by Xia's group. He left his tent quickly, turning his eyes east where he saw thousands of crimson-maned beasts blazing through the forest, leaving behind them a trail of smoke.

They reached the camp in less than a minute, coming to a halt as the army dismounted; it was a rather breathtaking sight, as all bore the same armor – silver-clad with red capes fluttering behind them. A fairly young woman, seeming in her early thirties, approached Rio while the rest of the army slowly began setting up their own tents.

She had long, artificially-dyed crimson hair and a pair of black eyes that shimmered with excitement. Clad in similar armor as the rest, the difference being a golden feather strapped to her left-side chest, the cape behind her fluttered, her boots cranking out as they clashed against the earth beneath. A massive greatsword lay strapped to her back, seeming too heavy to be dragged around, yet it seemed to have no impact on her whatsoever.

“—sorry I’m late,” she said, glancing around and spotting the fading pyres. “We got held up on the bridge.”

“No worries,” Rio replied, grinning sheepishly. “We’ve come out victorious, as always.”

“There seem to be more dead this time around,” she said, frowning. “What happened?”

“… their numbers,” Rio said, sighing, his grin vanishing, replaced by a somber expression. “At least three-four times the usual.”

“Have you reported it?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder supportively. “Homebase always finds an answer. What now? We pushing?”

“Hm,” Rio nodded. “After we recuperate a bit, we’ll press onward. If we can push the Army over the Gorge, it will signal the first step in liberating the entire continent from the threat.”

“… we’ve come a long way,” she said, sighing lowly. “I’m sorry for your losses today. You’ve done well.”

“… thanks,” he nodded. “You should also go and rest. We’ve long days ahead of us.”

“Hm…” Xia nodded lightly, glancing at the smoke of the pyres once more with strange eyes before turning around and disappearing toward her army.

Rio stared at her fading back with a gaze of adoration, barely holding himself back from leaping over and hugging her. Perennially-composed, calm under all circumstances, always the first to rush into the battle… it was no secret that she shaped her entire style after the Revered Empyrean, going as far as to request an exact replica of the Empyrean's famed sword – the Slayer – only to fall into a deep depression that lasted for months when she realized it didn't fit her as well as she believed it would.

She wasn't a unique case, however; a lot of Generals, and even some Commanders, were inspired by the legendary figures of the Empire. Yun, for instance, became so infatuated by Lady L's style of fighting, that he stayed as a Shadow for an extra three years just to study it as closely as possible. Namia, as well, became almost a spitting image of the Sorceress Val; the seemingly inconspicuous-looking woman of grace who was as terrifying when she wanted to be as the worst of nature itself.

Though hardly mythical figures as they can be frequently seen in Inmistus, they were still the sort that lived countless layers above the rest. From the beginning of the War, the Empyrean, for instance, participated only in the Battle of the Isles, the legendary fight where he endured the combined onslaught of Descent and Holy Grounds for tens of minutes all on his own, killing hundreds of thousands. Rumors say that corpses from that day still float the waters around the Isles, forever restless.

“—she’s really kind, isn’t she?” an unfamiliar voice mumbled from the side.

“She really is…” Rio nodded subconsciously, figuring it was one of his men; glancing sideways, however, he froze in shock.

“If you say a word,” the man grinned strangely, glancing at him. “I’ll leave and never speak to you again, no matter what.”

“—” Rio zipped his lips immediately, barely managing to contain a roar in his lungs. Right there, in front of him, stood a figure he would recognize in any circumstance; after all, a massive portrait of him hung in Rio’s bedroom back home, one he would look at for inspiration and courage whenever he felt himself faltering. Despite that, however, and all his boundless aspirations, he never once thought he would actually have the honor of talking with him directly. The ever-mythical, ever-present Empyrean, the Emperor of the Western World, stood right there in front of him, clad in casual clothes, grinning like a child.