Episode 2: Northern Front (1)
Enlisting was easier than I expected. Maybe it was thanks to the Duke of Nordelheim pulling strings—nobody looked too closely into my background or records.
The so-called Duke who said he’d “help” me just tossed me to the frontlines.
Was this the help he meant? Fuck.
The place I was assigned to: the Edberg Trench Line, One of the most monster-infested areas in the entire North.
But at least there was one silver lining: This was also where they officially taught Aura Technique.
“Hold your breath. Then draw it back in. As if you’re gripping your heart, lungs, and spinal cord all at once.”
“Is this even humanly possible?”
“It is. So just shut up and do it. Or you’ll die.”
Training in Aura Technique was pure hell. It was an insane cycle of meditation and extreme cardio.
Muscles tore, ligaments snapped, but there was no stopping.
Apparently, the first step was sensing the energy flowing within your body. I had no idea what the hell that meant.
But when they told me to do it, I did it. I literally trained until I was half-dead.
Not the pain of bones breaking—but bones grinding from within.
Veins boiling, eyes burning like they were on fire.
Still, it worked.
Maybe the blood of Balthazar wasn’t just for show—I had talent.
Within a month, I finished the basic level of Aura Technique.
I only made it through thinking, “Do it or die.”
“You’re probably the only rookie to graduate in a month.”
“Thank you.”
“You might be the most talented in the history of this training ground.”
“You flatter me.”
***
I was deployed right after training.
The battlefield I got sent to? It stank of death.
When you haven’t washed in months, drenched in monster blood and sweat—that’s the smell.
Took less than two weeks to realize I stank just like them.
All this because I ran my mouth once? Goddamn it.
“Hey, rookie! Don’t fall behind!”
That was our squad leader.
Armor torn to shreds, missing three teeth, constantly spouting profanity—
And still three times stronger than me.
“You fucking idiot! You’re not running?! That alley’s the perfect place to get killed!”
“I am running, goddammit!”
I swallowed my irritation and ran. This was the northern front. If you wanted to die, all you had to do was stand still.
The first month, I barely managed to kill even a single monster.
They were on a whole different level from what I’d fought before.
Two-thirds of the rookies I trained with died within two weeks.
They died in all kinds of ways: Heads crushed, limbs torn off, hearts ripped out.
I lost count of how many times I vomited at the sight of their mangled bodies.
Determined not to end up like them, I fought tooth and nail to survive.
The more intense battles I fought, the stronger my Aura became.
After three months, I could break through monster hordes alongside the assault squad.
By five months, I could hold my own against high-tier beasts long enough to buy time.
“I’ll hold it off!”
“Are you trying to die?! Shut up and run!”
“No. I’m killing that bastard!”
“Ugh, damn it…!”
A year later, I drove my blade into the critical weak point of a high-tier beast, Razhel, and took it down single-handedly. A rookie, just one year on the front, slaying a high-tier beast. Most called it a fluke; some said I got lucky.
“Bet the rookie just ran around and barely survived.”
“Lucky bastard.”
But clear results couldn’t be ignored forever.
***
A medal ceremony was held. Soldiers who’d survived the northern front gathered, Most had half-ruined faces or missing limbs. Yet, they all stood tall in crisp uniforms. Then my name was called.
“Ian, 13th Infantry Battalion.”
The northern front’s commander-in-chief, Baldir Nordelheim, pinned a medal to my chest.
The Northern Ironblood Medal, a gold-embellished honor given only to those who’d slain a high-tier beast.
“Well done. Can you keep fighting?”
“I obey your command.”
He glanced at my face, then turned away. Most of the gazes in the room were more skeptical than awestruck. Despite the medal, the applause was sparse. The surviving soldiers started seeing me not as a comrade, but as something foreign.
‘Is this honor or a curse?’
The thought crossed my mind briefly, but I pushed it aside. Surviving alone was enough.
“Is that the soldier who took down Razhel? Looks more like a gigolo than a soldier.”
“That’s the rookie named Ian. Graduated the training camp in a month and has been on the front for a year.”
“Dig into his background. He might be a southern spy.”
“We already investigated. This Ian, it turns out…”
***
“You’re the soldier rumored to have survived the Razhel subjugation?”
The voice was soft, almost drowned out by the soldiers’ laughter, but it carried an overwhelming presence. The pressure was so intense that some soldiers instinctively reached for their weapons. The knight, clad in full plate armor that revealed not a sliver of skin, spoke with a voice that hinted at their gender.
The knight removed their helmet, and silvery-white hair cascaded down like flowing water. Icy eyes locked onto me. A cold beauty stood before me.
Irena Krauze.
One of the empire’s three Aura users.
Commander of the First Imperial Knight Division.
A living legend of the northern front.
And—
“You’re skinnier than I expected. You’re not starving, are you?”
—The one responsible for the impending collapse of the northern front.
“You’d get bitten and die if you didn’t eat in a place like this. So, you’re the one holding up the front?”
“I am.”
Irena nodded and asked abruptly,
“How far have you progressed with Aura?”
“I’ve gotten it to flow near my heart.”
“So, you haven’t achieved full-body circulation yet. Well, whatever.”
She paused, then smirked. “Did you come all the way here to die?”
“No. I came to survive.”
“Interesting, as expected. Alright, you’re joining the unit I created.”
“…Unit?”
***
Just like that, I was roped into a newly formed special task force, separate from the regular knights or army. The official purpose was to “diversify tactics on the northern front,” but in reality, it was just a combat unit Irena Krauze had assembled from exceptional soldiers.
There were no rules, and the composition was bizarre: three elite soldiers, two assassins, one mysterious wanderer, and me.
“You’re the new guy? What’s your name?”
“Ian. No family name.”
“Heard you’re some crazy bastard dying to get yourself killed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The woman in charge of the task force, Crim, asked cautiously,
“They say you rushed into battle with monsters because your fiancée dumped you. Is that true?”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
“What? It’s not true?”
“Not at all.”
Joining the task force didn’t exactly open doors to glory. The days were even more hellish than in the regular army. While the knights fought high-tier monsters, our task force had to block their rear. We were called a “special task force,” but we were basically cannon fodder.
“Stop those bastards from getting past!”
“If even one slips through, the subjugation fails!”
“Ian, you idiot! One’s breaking through over there!”
We dove into the heart of monster hordes, fought like mad, returned to train, and then dove back in. One by one, the veterans in our unit died, their places filled by new recruits. Through it all, I grew stronger. After three more years, I could spar with regular knights—who were all monsters adorned with Northern Ironblood Medals, some even with platinum ones—and win one out of five bouts. Only knights of that caliber could stand toe-to-toe with Great Demonic Beasts.
“Ian, that last move was pretty good!”
“For someone who didn’t even attend the Academy, you’re already this skilled.”
“Thanks, but I’ve still got a long way to go.”
I said this while glancing at Irena Krauze. She was training, her sword wreathed in Aura. Her right arm seemed stiff, as she wielded her blade with her left hand instead—signs of the affliction were already showing. To prevent the collapse of the northern front, I had to surpass her.
“What, you’re aiming to beat Commander Irena?”
“Haha! No way, no way. The commander’s a monster who graduated top of the Academy.”
“You don’t know until you try.”
“Alright, alright. Can’t stop a young guy’s fire. I’m rooting for you.”
It’s not about having to do it—it’s about doing it.
With that resolve, I gripped my sword again, determined to survive this damn dark fantasy world.