Awakening the Great Chapter 95

Chapter 95: The Silence of the Strong

Calix looks toward the one who called his na. The naless warrior slled of savagery. He wore almost no armor. Apart from a leather breastplate and vambraces, along with greaves wrapping his calves, he was nearly bare. Yet the muscles exposed on the surface were weapons in themselves. His skin, baked by the sun, had darkened to a deep crimson, and deep within his eyes lay the hunger of a beast starved for battle.

"Kalaq! Salli'h Kallikus!"

The language was unfamiliar, yet the emotion it carried was unmistakably clear. On the battlefield, calling out a na always carried the sa aning, regardless of ti or place. It was a challenge. And Calix had no desire to back down either.

Among all the changes in him of late, the greatest was this—

'Fighting with swords is enjoyable.'

Indeed it was. Effort backed by talent leads to a sense of accomplishnt. It had not been long since he completed Falling Fire, and already he was aiming at the threshold of Prelude to Flas. That was why he wanted to fight. He wanted to grow stronger. Even if only by small incrents, he wanted to climb higher. He knew that he himself was capable of it.

[Ashapel's Instinct/Avatar of the Battlefield 49%]

In truth, through a series of recent sparring sessions with elves and dwarves alike, his body had hardened yet another layer. The sa went for his Bloodline Ability. Naturally, his instincts too were craving richer experience. And the one who could provide it was right before his eyes.

"Kallikus! Bakakzan!"

Given how entirely different the language was, the opponent had surely co from deep within the Kalahim Desert. That much alone promised a new style of swordsmanship.

Yet—was fighting here truly the right course of action?

'It isn't the optimal choice.'

His cool reason quickly soothed his stirred emotions. Sparring with Viale's soldiers had been a ans toward unity. But this ti, no justification had been given.

'This man probably doesn't represent Kalahim. He's more likely soone who acted out on his own.'

As Zahira had said earlier, he had called out to Calix without any official order. It wasn't even clear who he was. Above all, this was not a eting between individuals—it was a eting between military forces. Therefore, the mont he accepted a duel request, it would instead diminish the Mountain Rabbits' standing. They would be treated like wild n who'd take on anyone willing to draw steel. Whether it ended in a draw, a victory, or a defeat—it was a loss regardless.

And so Calix—

Clop, clop.

Borrowing the steps of his warhorse Lunos, he moved slowly forward. His na had been called, so he could not fall back—but neither did he draw his sword. He simply rode forward alone, toward three thousand Kalahim cavalry. The distance closed rapidly. From a hundred paces to fifty, then again from thirty down to ten.

When expressions beca clearly visible, the opponent's face twisted with confusion.

"Vshan eqran! Ahinsharak!"

That too lasted only a mont before his face flushed red and he spat out words in a voice bristling with fury. It was almost certainly a demand to draw his weapon.

And so Calix answered—with mana.

The core within his heart awakened and spun in fierce rotation.

Shwooooosh!

In an instant, a pulse of mana burst from Calix's body. An invisible pressure spiraled outward, coiling around the sand. The surroundings cleared at once, sharpening his field of vision, and before long everything within a five-ter radius was pushed back.

Boom—!

A heavy sound rang out as a circle was stamped into the ground. The materialization of mana—sothing Master Imran Akran had once demonstrated. It would surely not reach his level, yet through innate talent and a vast reserve of mana, a similar divine authority had been displayed.

What followed was deep silence.

The warrior before him, and the Kalahim cavalry behind——both had realized it. That the gap in mana alone ant a fair fight was impossible.

And just like that. By not fighting, Calix remained the stronger one.

***

No one opened their mouth. Calix's mana had long since settled, yet its afterglow lingered on the earth like residual heat.

It was then.

"Ranakk!"

A thunderous shout cut across the plain and rang out. The owner of that voice was one of the commanders on the Kalahim side. He wore a helt adorned with silver bells and military dress layered with tawny silk. In the manner peculiar to desert nobility, he issued a firm command.

"Fall back!"

The tension eased in an instant. Only then did the young warrior who had called out to Calix turn his horse around.

His na was Ranakk. Under the Great Chief Yoman, he had once cut down dozens of cavalryn alone—a celebrated successor of great promise. Yet even as he withdrew without hesitation, he used his horse's hooves to stamp the ground once with a heavy thud. His expression was one of neither defeat nor submission. The desire to settle the score—unfinished as it was—was left openly behind.

And a short while later.

The sun tilted beyond the horizon. By then, both armies had established camps on either side of the plain. Hundreds of tents had been pitched around the supply wagons. The makeshift conference hall was set up in a sunken basin.

Beneath the canopy, the leadership representing each nation sat in a circle. From the Kalahim side ca elders and military commanders bearing red veils and feathered ornants; from the Viale Alliance ca Serylion Belrnar, his adjutant Welvas, and Airien. The Mountain Rabbits attended in a representative capacity—Royce and Calix, Marik and Ella.

What was unusual, however, was that representatives of third-party nations were also seated among them.

"Greetings to all. Consider it an honor to have taken part in this historic gathering. I am Barakh. Entrusted with the Great Chief Yoman's command, I lead the Eastern Expeditionary Force."

"……Serylion Belrnar. Of Renbrand origin, I have been given the task of commanding the Viale Alliance's advance force. I found it impossible to discard a duty passed down since ancient tis. But now…… who are these people?"

"They are envoys from the Latia Republic. Fortunately, they too have a 'modest' interest in the stirrings of an evil force."

At the end of the brief introductions, a subtle sneer crept in. Before long, Calix's gaze turned toward the parties in question.

The Latia envoys wore elaborate clothing of azure-gold silk fastened with pearl buttons. The cut was loose, but its quality was unmistakably high. Embroidered across their chests was their nation's emblem—a trident and a sailing vessel—and while they overflowed with wealth, they lacked in refinent. The gold ornants were excessively gaudy, and the linen bunched around their necks puffed up in a manner that felt provincial. To his eyes, they looked like rchants who had been struck by sudden fortune. It was a feeling entirely at odds with Adrian Deconti—the Latia prince with whom the Mountain Rabbits had ties.

"Those seated beside them are true warriors co from the rcenary kingdom of Gardia."

"Gardia?"

"A rcenary kingdom attached beneath Astria. They say it has dispatched a great many support forces over ti—no fewer than ten thousand, supposedly. They fought alongside us against the Niboria Empire, so they have more than sufficient grounds to participate in this conference."

The Gardia delegation, by contrast, was an entirely different picture. They were elaborately dressed, yet their attire carried a peculiar blend of practicality and deliberate display. The Red Lion's emblem was sharply engraved across the breastplate, and the inner fabric was double-finished in deep crimson silk, lending the impression of a battle uniform and a formal dress suit strangely rged into one. Silver boots clad their feet, scaled leather wrapped their wrists, and at their waists hung both a two-handed sword and a decorative short sword. It was as though rcenaries were putting on airs of nobility.

But the problem lay elsewhere.

"With that said, as ti is short, let us move directly to the matter at hand."

The Mountain Rabbits were not given the floor. The leader Royce knitted his brow almost imperceptibly, and Calix too furrowed his slightly. The one presiding over the conference was Barakh, the Kalahim commander. He was openly disregarding them.

***

Barakh—cousin to Great Chief Yoman and the most trusted warrior in his confidence—parted his lips slowly. His voice was not raised, but the weight within it was unmistakable.

"The eastern defensive line of Astria has been broken."

The air in the conference hall ca to a dead stop. Without distinction between human and other races, expressions hardened all at once.

"They couldn't even hold for two months? They gave up that vast stretch of land entirely?"

"There may be places still holding out. But with Shelion Fortress having fallen into the enemy's hands, the east of Astria must be considered lost."

At that, the representative of the rcenary kingdom, Gardia, let out a low groan. It was hardly a distant matter—he had already poured countless soldiers into the Astrian front. Their defeat was Gardia's tragedy in equal asure.

"Was there no word from the kingdom's army commander?"

"That side went dark a long ti ago. The walls collapsed, and the combatants were slaughtered to the last. On top of that, they lost the nearby high ground as well—if they had any sha, they'd have taken their own lives."

"……A harsh thing to say, though not an untrue one. Central Astria is known as the breadbasket. Vast plains stretch along the river. It is not favorable ground for defense."

"As it is, the margin of ti we had hoped for has been cut short by no fewer than half a month."

After a grim silence, the elf commander posed a question.

"Would it be possible to know the scale of the enemy? I would like to hear the most recent report."

"This is no more than an estimate, but the minimum is said to be twenty thousand."

"Has the identity of the army commander been revealed?"

"I am told there are no witnesses."

As a sigh was beginning to pass through the room, the Kalahim elder suddenly slamd the table.

"Niboria is a place that ought to be wiped from the earth, but Astria is rotted through as well! How can we join hands with those who cannot even defend their own land! Does this not leave the desert warriors with no choice but to be the ones to hold the center!"

The opening shot for a struggle over initiative was fired, and the interior of the conference hall descended into chaos in an instant.

Among them all, only the Mountain Rabbits remained silent. Yet Calix had his ears sharpened to a razor's edge.

'There is a way through in the chaos. If an opportunity presents itself, I must step forward at once.'

This was where the real substance began. Viale imdiately bared their teeth.

"Humans—we are an alliance force. If you push forward recklessly in your own fashion without discipline, the coalition will be torn apart in no ti."

"Ha! Discipline? Save that talk for when the front line is still holding. The situation is urgent right now. Whoever can move fastest—with troops, with supplies—should be the one to lead!"

Beginning with Serylion Belrnar, the quarrel spread outward and grew hotter.

"No, before all that. Is it truly necessary to rush like this?"

The Latia envoy muttered with a weary expression. Despite his elaborate clothing, his voice was utterly dry.

"I'll say it again—not a single drop of blood has yet been shed in our seas. It would be wrong to speak as though a joint force has already been ford. Latia has not yet decided."

At those words, the elf adjutant Welvas snapped his head around and lashed out.

"Then what did you co to this conference for?"

He shrugged with a smirk.

"To observe. To see who dies and who survives. On behalf of the great citizens of the Republic, we are searching for those worth aiding."

One after another, sharp words flew amid contemptuous gazes. It was absolute bedlam. The political interests, ambitions, and rage of each nation tangled together and turned into a quagmire.

Tap, tap, tap.

Just then, the representative of the Kingdom of Gardia knocked his knuckles against the table. He appeared to have no intention of watching this chaos continue.

"Everyone, settle down. What matters is not whose opinion is correct."

"Then what exactly is it that matters?"

He answered with a composed expression, calm and unhurried.

"Who is prepared to stand at the front. Who has proven themselves fit through countless battlefields. Neither justification nor bloodline holds weight here. The one who faced the enemy first—only such a person has the right to stand at the vanguard."

In that mont, a strange silence settled over the conference hall. No one said it aloud, but instinct had drawn every gaze to the sa place.

The Mountain Rabbits.

They had planted themselves the deepest, and co back as though it were nothing. Not once—but ti and again, they had done exactly that.

And yet, despite it all, the Kalahim commander—Barakh—never brought their na to his lips. Not because he bore them any ill will. In truth, it was the opposite.

'Great Chief Yoman wants that young man. He must not be brought into the open on the sand just yet.'

Fortunately, the Mountain Rabbits were few in number. Their internal bond was tight, yet from an outside perspective, it was a stretch to call them a faction. That was the angle to exploit. For now, suppressing their prominence was fine. Give them no justification. Then, when the front expands and the situation grows desperate—

'That is when we absorb them whole.'

A cold calculation for the acquisition of talent. If it ant gaining a warrior as exceptional as Calix, he would carry out even dishonorable tasks without hesitation.

And so, into the conference hall, conflict was invited once more.

"I am opposed. Great Chief Yoman has mobilized the greatest number of forces—three thousand cavalry alone. When weighing the quality and quantity of troops, it is inevitable that Kalahim takes command."

Beyond the eyes of the man who spoke, the side profile of the one in question ca into view. Still, he said nothing. Yet within that stillness lay sothing the sand could not conceal—sothing that set him apart.

***

Calix had finished his calculations. He had read the board before stepping forward.

"It's not entirely wrong, but even so, Kalahim being at the center is a bit……"

Latia was neutral—a bystander. They would neither side with the Mountain Rabbits nor oppose them.

"Viale cannot agree with your opinion either. Just as one cannot change where one lives, so too is discipline immutable. Unless this is to be a proper joint command structure, we will not cede independent authority."

Serylion Belrnar, on the other hand, was likely to provide passive support. He and Calix were not on terms one could call close even in pleasantries, but the prestige of the Viale Mountain Alliance mattered. That was precisely why. The Mountain Rabbits had been recognized at the Alliance Council. They could not therefore beco insignificant. At the very least, he would know this.

And lastly, Gardia.

"No, why is it that no one is ntioning the Mountain Rabbits? What is needed now is not numbers but a figure proven on the battlefield. From what we have heard, they have not retreated even once."

They were the most actively pressing the matter. Calix was not particularly surprised.

'They said they had deployed more than ten thousand soldiers into Astria. They would have no forces left to attach to the coalition.'

Instead, they were aiming for the Mountain Rabbits. Royce's ho region was Astria, was it not? Add to that the connection of being rcenaries, and it was fair to read them as seeing the Mountain Rabbits as a kind of proxy. Put briefly, it amounted to sothing like: 'Do whatever you can—please, just keep the rcenaries Gardia sent alive.'

In result, it ant winning over two of the four, with one abstaining. Whether Kalahim could be persuaded was an entirely separate matter.

"I acknowledge the Mountain Rabbits' achievents, but the scale of the battlefield is different. I understand the urgency, yet it is inappropriate to place them on too high a pedestal simply because they share the sa trade."

"I am not suggesting we hand over command. Only that they have earned the right to stand at the vanguard."

The Gardia envoy, apparently well aware of this, was attempting to negotiate not for independent command but for the role of vanguard.

"Ha—are we truly saying we should entrust the vanguard to a re fifty people!"

"Have I not said that numbers are not what matters!"

Calix's thoughts were the sa. The crux was where the compromise would be drawn. Independent authority to act, or the vanguard. They could not have both, so one of the two had to be chosen. Had soone not abruptly cut in, he would have stepped forward directly by now.

"Your words are mistaken."

"……?"

Beneath silver hair, sky-blue eyes looked straight at the desert warrior. It was Airien.

"Mistaken? In what way?"

"In every way. The Mountain Rabbits are not fifty people. And when you think about it, Viale's forces are not two thousand either."

"What do you an by……"

Scrrrape.

The elf woman rose from her seat, having seized the attention of everyone in the hall. She then slowly moved out from behind the table. And before long, her feet ca to a stop—behind Royce.

"The Viale Mountain Alliance officially dispatched seven hundred soldiers. Which ans the remaining thirteen hundred are not people who follow orders. They are simply those who heard soone's words, witnessed sothing, and ca because they wished to be part of what ca next."

At that, the eyes of the Kalahim commander, Barakh, narrowed. His jaw ca slightly slack, teeth showing. His expression was one of disbelief. No——he did not want to believe it. From behind him, the elders began murmuring among themselves, stirring with unease.

"Which ans—"

"Yes. Viale holds seven hundred, and the Mountain Rabbits together command a combined force of thirteen hundred and fifty. If you hold numbers in such regard, then surely this side now has grounds to raise its voice as well?"

"……"

Yes. The noble elf had flipped the entire board.