Awakening the Great Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Beyond the Boundary Line

"You actually…… Accepted this proposal?"

Volga muttered with a look of disbelief. He shook his head from side to side, yet his eyes held a glimr of anticipation.

He hadn't expected to obtain what he'd so desperately wanted this quickly.

"Does it make sense? We're rcenaries. But they'll reimplant Neural Accelerators? Officially registered ones?"

"Not everything was accepted. Half will be Neural Accelerators that elite soldiers used, and they said they'd give the remaining half at the level of entry-grade knights."

"Calix, you crazy bastard! That's incredible as it is!"

He was right. The new Neural Accelerators would show an overwhelming difference not only in output improvent, but also in stability and efficiency.

However, each individual Antelope's reaction was entirely different.

"Heh, looks like we can even pretend to be knights now?"

The dwarf Basim smiled, corners of his mouth curling upward. But his eyes had sunk low.

"Whether everyone lives to make use of them, though—that I don't know."

Calix understood his position. True to a veteran rcenary, he hadn't forgotten that the mission's danger remained high.

Just then, his close companion Zahira stepped in to take over the conversation.

"That's what fate is. What can you do about it?"

"……Fate my ass. You want a new one too?"

"The Accelerator? Well, I could get it installed and if I don't like it, I can just have it removed, can't I?"

"Why not try removing your head first? Did you find that to your liking?"

"What if you end up falling for

because of it?"

"……."

"Basim, that was a joke."

"……Never bring up such a horrifying joke again. My stomach turned just now."

"Surely it's not that bad?"

The usual banter laced with teasing continued back and forth. In the midst of it, one of the new recruits could be seen repeatedly nodding his head alone. Since they'd originally been close to thirty but now fewer than ten remained, he was actually easier to spot. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, fingertips trembling.

Soon, his eyes t those of the priestess, Ella. Calix intuitively sensed that the two of them were thinking the sa thing.

The gift of Neural Accelerator reimplantation had been given, but no one could assert with certainty that it was an opportunity. It only becos a gift once you've survived to use it. And so, neither comfort nor persuasion could be offered.

Go together, fall behind, or find another path. Whichever it was, it was one's own choice.

Just then, the voice of Vice-captain Marik drifted into his ears.

"……I thought the Commander would stop things. It was too much of a proposal."

He unconsciously rubbed his chin, deepening the furrows on his brow. At a glance it seed as though he was reproaching Calix's conduct, but in truth it was closer to self-reproach. He had successfully carried out countless commissions until now, yet recently he was acutely feeling the inadequacy of his abilities.

"I should have stepped forward more assertively. It wasn't a burden a young mber should have had to bear. Looking back on it, that fact keeps weighing on my mind."

At this, Ella listened quietly, then slowly lifted her head.

Simply listening was aningful enough that there was no need to offer an answer. Yet she quietly opened her mouth. In her eyes dwelled a gentle warmth, like the shade of a tree.

"The burden on your shoulders must have been heavy."

"……."

"But it's a result we all created together."

Marik's brow furrowed slightly, but he did not stop speaking.

"I sent the letter to arrange the eting, and the Commander decided to head to the Elvra Holy Empire after speaking with the Vice-captain. Calix did his best throughout the negotiation. We all shared the responsibility. Because we trust one another. We are……."

"Antelopes."

He answered briefly, then drew in a breath. A clumsy smile traced the corner of his lips.

Calix said nothing. It was a neatly concluded exchange, and every word of it was right—yet sowhere deep in his chest, he felt a stifling heaviness.

The Antelopes were compelling precisely because you never knew which direction they'd leap in.

Clunk.

At that mont, the door to the implantation room opened.

* * *

Change always begins with the smallest of things.

Beyond the door, a low and gentle vibration seeped into the room. This was a place where magitech engineering, dicine, and faith intersected. It was the sound of specialized implantation equipnt operating.

Soon, those with eyes closed, and those who had been sitting still, all raised their heads in unison at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Swish.

A nun dressed in a white cloth entered the waiting room. In her hands she carried the implantation roster and a small candlestick. As though she had co to select soone, she slowly surveyed the room, examining each face one by one.

Then suddenly, her eyes t Gregor's.

In that instant, the nun's eyes wavered. She looked as though she had encountered sothing beyond her expectations. Gregor stepped forward himself. Chuckling, he thumped his chest.

"What's the matter? Don't tell

my na is written on that paper?"

The mont the other party's expression began to stiffen, the veteran rcenary's shoulders shrugged playfully.

"What a ridiculous idea. Tearing open the neural network tissue at my age. Would sprinkling water on dried jerky turn it back into a calf!"

"……."

"So just take good care of my companions. Perhaps among them there might be a cute little calf hiding sowhere. Of course, no such thing would happen!"

After a brief silence— a quiet smile spread belatedly across the nun's lips. The face concealed beneath the habit revealed a human expression, just for a mont.

But she quickly returned to her original self. A face that betrayed not a single emotion. Beneath her gaze, the implantation roster flickered in the candlelight.

"The first is……. Volga."

It was a weighty resonance. A voice that seed to be orchestrating soone's life. The man in question rose without a word. With no reaction of any kind, he simply stood up.

Only silence filled the room.

"Go safely."

Only Gregor murmured softly. He patted the faintly trembling back with his palm and sent him on his way.

Trudge, trudge.

Volga disappeared without looking back. Without a mont's hesitation, he stepped into the implantation room. Calix watched his retreating figure and couldn't take his eyes off it for a mont.

The days of being at the rcy of fate were over. Volga would brand it into his own flesh. All of it——his fear, his resolve, and even his will to survive.

Click.

Soon, the door to the implantation room closed completely.

"See there, cook friend. Wasn't I right? They took the finest calf first."

"……."

Gregor's caustic joke was deliberately left unacknowledged.

* * *

All preparations were complete three weeks later. Those who had received Neural Accelerator reimplantations had fully recovered within a week, but there remained things still to be received——including the official mission commission.

Above all, a separation of personnel was required. Those lacking in physical strength could be brought along, but those lacking in experience could not.

"I've arranged with the Order for cooperation. There'll be no forced conscription, nor will you be deployed to the front lines. They've said they'll provide work even outside rcenary duties, so wait until we return."

"……You're telling only us to remain in the Elvra Holy Empire? Isn't that the sa as saying you're abandoning us!"

The new recruits pushed back strongly, but Royce showed not even a flicker of change in expression. Like the matter of distributing the Neural Accelerators by grade, this too had been decided long before.

"You may make a different choice. I won't say a word even if you leave. But if you remain and wait, the commission fee distribution ratio will be divided the sa as if you had carried out the mission."

"……The commission fee?"

"That's right. Not a bad proposal."

So were tempted by the captain's arrangents, but a few bowed their heads with fists clenched tight. They didn't want to admit it, but they were experiencing firsthand that their abilities fell short.

Either way, with this the personnel for the western expedition were confird, and the Antelopes soon received the mission commission stamped with the Pope's seal.

"Hadiya."

"Map analysis is almost complete. If the information the Elvra Holy Empire's side scouted is accurate, we won't be detected for quite so ti."

"Have the escape routes been decided as well?"

"Yes. I've laid them out according to each progression route. The Niboria Imperial Army's deploynt……."

Once even the detailed routes were worked out, preparations were entirely complete. With that, the Antelopes advanced toward the western border without delay.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Amid the cold winds blowing from the north, the sound of hoofbeats rang out in place of carriage wheels. True to their agreent, they had received mid-to-high grade warhorses.

Though the horses were not fitted with iron barding, their bodies were wrapped in leather to improve basic defensive capability. In particular, what stood out most prominently were the low-grade Mana Stones embedded within.

"……Strange. They move on their own?"

"I know. It's my first ti riding a horse……. It'll be difficult to use in combat, but it'll be a great help for movent."

"I wish we'd had a little more ti. I just can't get used to this."

"We'll have to adapt on the way."

Just then, as the terrain shifted from flat land to a hillside path, part of the formation broke up. But the horses balanced themselves and continued their pace. Up until they readjusted their posture and returned to the group——they had moved of their own accord in response to their riders' intentions.

Soone let out a stifled gasp of admiration.

"Hah……!"

"Just look at the hind leg muscles and you'll know. Creatures like these can climb straight up a boulder."

Hearing that, one of the veteran rcenaries quietly leaned their body to one side. Sure enough, the beast's long neck followed in an instant.

What followed was a long sigh.

"So this is what knights have been riding into battle all this ti. No wonder hundreds can charge at them and still fail to kill them."

"Indeed. The cowardly bastards."

"Heh heh, next ti they should at least call out a warning. Tell them to co down to the ground and fight!"

anwhile, the dwarf Basim was gripping the horse's mane and grumbling continuously.

"You beast! I told you to turn sideways, not go forward on your own! What a dimwit!"

For him, horseback riding was an activity fundantally ill-suited to his biology. Getting on in the first place was a trial, and in particular, his Mountain Alliance Neural Accelerator wasn't syncing properly.

Volga replied in a bright voice, as though feeling sorry for him.

"That's exactly why you should've gotten a Neural Accelerator reimplantation. Unlike my teacher, I feel like I'm riding on clouds. It's completely different from anything I've used before. The response speed, the syncing with the horse—everything."

Naturally, his teacher answered with a fierce snort.

Royce, Marik, Gregor, Zahira, Calix, and others—the key mbers of the rcenary group had a separate reason for not having undergone reimplantation.

"You fool. You want

to cut myself open and receive sothing with even lower output than what I have now? You go and enjoy it to your heart's content. Mine runs perfectly fine, all vibrant and healthy. Let's see if you're saying the sa thing on the battlefield."

"Yes, I understand."

"……And no warhorse like this can even compare to the ones from the Mountain Alliance! Rockboars are the best!"

"Yes, yes. I heard you."

While Basim seethed with unvented frustration, Volga suddenly leaned his upper body forward, then used the rebound to lift his entire body up. The warhorse likewise responded by rearing up on its front legs. A reaction faster than conscious thought. No longer did the mind's speed run ahead of the body.

"……Heh heh, now my head chases after my body. Calix, you saw that too, right?"

"Yeah."

Calix answered with a pleased smile. The veteran rcenaries' gazes were drawn to Volga's out-of-nowhere movent, but no one said a word. They all knew it was part of the process of adapting.

And indeed, the colors visible in his field of view reflected this.

There was no more grey—every single Antelope was tinged with green. And not all the sa shade of green at that. With high stability supporting them, it blazed deeply. The operating duration of their Neural Accelerators would have increased dramatically as well.

He himself had changed nothing, yet he felt thoroughly satisfied.

'……No, two things have certainly changed.'

Calix gripped the sword hilt at his waist. He too had received a weapon. A knight-grade sword from the Elvra Holy Empire—said to be able to withstand at least three or four battles even at the Falling Fire level.

At the sa ti, he moved his hand to tap the beast's neck gently. The horse's mane brushed between his fingers, sliding through as smooth as silk thread.

His warhorse……. Was sohow strange.

The first ti he saw it, it had been lying limply in the corner of the stable. On worn-out hay. A beast with exhausted eyes that seed to be waiting only for its dying day. Its breathing had been sluggish—yet the mont his gaze fell upon it, it rose up with clear eyes.

[Nature Attunent 9% — Faint reaction detected]

Perhaps it was because of the newly awakened ability. So even as the stablehand waved his hands frantically trying to stop him, he trusted that montary pull and brought the horse along.

And now, the creature was behaving differently from the other warhorses. The movent of its front legs as it stepped forward, the rhythm of its breathing——it had been reading Calix's breath ahead of ti and following along.

Calix had issued no commands. No expectations, no coercion, no intent. Yet rely holding the reins, the beast judged and moved of its own accord. When to step forward, how wide its stride should be, when to halt, when to leap—the horse decided and moved all of this itself.

As though the two had been in sync long before ever eting.

"……Everything's fine, but you're too thin. Need to fatten you up a bit."

Snort.

The warhorse answered quietly, yet with a clear and vivid presence.

* * *

Three days later. Southwestern Elvra Holy Empire, Border Checkpoint.

Inside the checkpoint, the soldier stationed in the spire pressed the tip of his spear against the floor and tilted his head.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

The ground was trembling. An abrupt wind blew once, and soon after, dull hoofbeats echoed out in an irregular rhythm. The sound was low and long. Not one, but many. Though for sothing that counted as a number, it was remarkably orderly.

He found himself staring off into the distance beyond, then gulped down a breath.

Silhouettes erged through the dust. Blurry, yet clearly recognizable. Warhorses were walking in a line.

"……These are definitely not rchants."

As the distance closed, it beca certain. The horses were wearing barding. Light leather armor suited for both defense and movent, and the figures mounted atop them. The armor they wore followed the typical form of the Elvra Holy Empire. Uniform across every single one of them——a sight only found in a knightly order.

However, what was most striking above all else was the sheen that lingered across the armor.

There were no worn-away sections. No dents, nor areas where the color had faded. A cleanliness as though freshly pulled from a forge. They had received continuous upkeep.

The soldier unconsciously stood his spear upright.

Co to think of it, even the movents of the horses seed special. Though they would have been trained as warhorses, there was not the slightest disorder even as the group moved. Like a school of fish advancing in one direction, like birds flying in formation, like a river flowing downstream——they writhed and drew closer toward the checkpoint.

"Oh no……. I have to say sothing!"

Only then did he realize he needed to send a signal to his comrades.

"Hey! Soone's approaching the checkpoint!"

"Enemies?"

"No, no! They're definitely from the Order!"

"……Damn it, why are you only saying this now!"

Two soldiers hurried out to the front of the checkpoint. The hands gripping their spears were slick with sweat, and one side of their armor straps was fastened crookedly.

"……Stay still. If you run your mouth carelessly, we'll be in serious trouble."

The senior soldier, who served as the eldest among them, warned as much. He swallowed a dry lump in his throat and waited until the horses ca to a complete stop. Around the ti the dust settled, his eyes t those of the lead rider.

'These are definitely knights dispatched from the Order.'

No helt. No cloak. No decorations, no insignia either. Yet their eyes alone were those of soone who had walked a path of life and death. The habit of asuring an opponent's capability, gauging distance and angle, leaping one step ahead—embedded into the body.

'A secret mission!'

Whatever the truth may have been, that's what the senior soldier concluded.

"……Identity, verification requested, please."

Because of this, the hand he extended forward trembled. He used honorifics as though it were the natural thing to do. He couldn't know the other party's identity, and it seed as though he wasn't supposed to, either.

Fortunately, the knight commander said nothing and simply presented a single sheet of paper. The texture that touched his fingertips was far from ordinary. It was unmistakably the highest-grade paper produced by the Order.

"Um, m-might I ask what your na is……."

"Royce of the Antelopes."

"You must be Sir Royce. I'll verify it and open the gate for you right away."

"……?"

All of a sudden, a burst of stifled laughter erupted from sowhere behind the group of knights. The senior soldier concealed his bewildernt and lowered his head.

'Did I do sothing wrong?'

Co to think of it, the na was unfamiliar. Royce? He'd never heard of a knight by that na. Then a hypothesis flashed through his mind.

'It's a secret mission, and I asked for the na! You idiot, moron, fool…….'

He hurriedly examined the docunts—and this ti his complexion turned ashen. The na Royce, the number of companions, the warhorse registration numbers—all of it was written there more than adequately. But at the very end, there was a stamp the size of a fist.

That was precisely the problem.

"The, the Pope's……. personal seal—hup."

Even from its size alone, one could easily tell whose it was. Forgery? What lunatic would dare forge the Pope's personal seal?

"……May we pass?"

"Yes! You there, open the gate, quickly!"

The gate opened promptly, and the Antelopes passed through quietly. The hoofbeats were low and steady. Every rider kept their gaze unwavering from atop their horses. It was not a combat stance, yet their very existence was sufficiently intimidating.

A mont later.

The soldiers raised their heads and watched the group flowing quickly away beyond the haze of dust and wind.

"A diplomatic envoy?"

"Who would we be sending an envoy to?"

"They sent one to the Astria Kingdom before, didn't they."

"The situation's different now. Maybe they're going to strike the Imperial Army from behind."

The senior soldier didn't join the conversation. Instead, toward the retreating figures of the knights 'departing on a secret mission,' he bowed his head.

An unconscious show of respect——an action that ca before words. Naturally, the younger soldiers too followed the most senior one and each paid their respects in turn.

The sword hilts at the riders' backs, the muscles of the horses rising and falling, the short na tags fluttering in the wind. Not a single one of them could have imagined that those passing by were rcenaries.