"Good day to you, Afanasij," Eloi said cheerfully as he stepped into the command tent. Even after three days of pushing his own legion to its absolute limit, he was surprised to see that his colleague looked even worse than he did. Deep bags hung beneath Afanasij's eyes, his uniform was stained with dirt and blood, and the exhaustion on his face suggested he had not slept properly since the battle had begun. It was the face of a commander who had been forced to spend every waking hour keeping a collapsing front together.
"Good day to you too, Eloi. Am I ever happy to see you and your legion," Afanasij admitted with a long sigh. "I truly need your people. I don't think my soldiers can hold this line much longer." Despite speaking honestly, his tone carried no shame. Every commander present knew that no army in Europe could have fought continuously under these conditions without eventually reaching its limit.
As he looked at Eloi, Afanasij could not help but feel a mixture of admiration and envy. Officially, they were nearly the same rank, but in practice Eloi stood half a step above him because Legion 23 had once again become a complete legion under a single commander. Afanasij, meanwhile, still commanded only his legion, which had been divided into regions. It was difficult to compete with someone who possessed not only greater authority but also one of the finest military records on the continent.
Then again, few people could truly blame the military for favoring Legion 23. Its combat record bordered on legendary despite the horrific casualties it had suffered during the Forest Campaign. Although nearly the entire legion had been destroyed and only a single division had remained combat-effective long enough to continue the offensive deeper into the continent, their accomplishments during that campaign had permanently secured their reputation. Even now, officers across Europe continued studying their actions in military academies.
Legion 23 had been among the very first formations to cross the bridge and establish a foothold inside enemy territory. They had survived the nightmare of the Blood Mist, an encounter so disastrous that military doctrine worldwide was rewritten afterward. Previously, armies focused almost entirely on reacting to the situation on the battlefield as it appeared. After the Forest Campaign, however, military think tanks became far more proactive, constantly developing contingency plans for strange battlefield phenomena before they ever appeared again.
Perhaps even more impressive was the fact that Legion 23 had emerged from the forest in better condition than nearly every other legion involved in the campaign. Their losses had still been catastrophic, but compared to the destruction suffered by neighboring formations, they had preserved enough combat power to continue fighting. That achievement alone earned them enormous respect throughout the armed forces. Veterans who had witnessed the campaign firsthand often spoke of Legion 23 with something approaching reverence.
Of course, Legion 23 was hardly the only famous unit within the European military. Other legions had earned equally prestigious reputations for different reasons. Legion 305, for example, had built its fame almost entirely upon its exceptional survival rate, largely thanks to its extraordinary medical corps. Unlike many modern military doctors who depended heavily upon advanced technology, Legion 305's physicians still possessed extensive knowledge of traditional medicine and could manufacture many lifesaving medicines by hand whenever necessary.
"I understand why your people are reaching their limit," Eloi replied with a weary smile. "To be honest, mine are not in much better condition." He already knew exactly how exhausted Legion 23 had become after running nearly thirteen hundred kilometers in only three days. The only reason his soldiers were still functioning at all was because adrenaline continued forcing their bodies to ignore exhaustion, though everyone knew that such unnatural endurance could not last forever.
Eloi's expression gradually became more serious as he stepped toward the large battlefield map spread across the command table. "Tell me something," he said quietly. "How many corrupted creatures do you estimate your soldiers have already killed? Because if we truly have to keep this defensive line standing for another two days, I honestly don't think either of our legions will survive."
Afanasij slowly nodded before answering. "I checked the reports while your legion was still on its way here," he replied. "Based on our ammunition expenditure and battlefield observations, I estimate we have eliminated roughly two million corrupted creatures." Even as he spoke those incredible numbers aloud, he found them difficult to believe himself.
"We spared absolutely nothing," Afanasij continued with a tired sigh. "Every arrow we could purchase was fired. Every mage exhausted themselves repeatedly, and we even authorized widespread use of combat stimulants to maintain our soldiers' health, stamina, and mana. Those drugs cost a fortune, but at this point there simply wasn't another option if we wanted to keep the line intact."
"...Fuck."
The curse escaped Eloi's mouth almost instinctively as a realization suddenly struck him. He immediately turned toward Selvijs, causing the attendants who were carefully fastening the final pieces of his enormous suit of armor to pause in annoyance. Their commander rarely interrupted the fitting process unless something genuinely serious had occurred.
"Selvijs," Eloi said sharply, "if roughly one and a half million corrupted creatures still remain, what are the chances those flying creatures finally become smart enough to gather together and deliberately break into one of the secret realms behind our lines?"
The tent suddenly fell silent.
Both Selvijs and Afanasij stared at Eloi for only a brief moment before loudly cursing as well. Neither of them had considered that possibility until now, but once Eloi voiced the concern, the danger became painfully obvious. If the flying creatures coordinated their actions and entered one of the untouched secret realms behind the defensive line, the consequences could be catastrophic, potentially creating an entirely new wave of Stage 1 corrupted creatures behind the army's defenses.
Selvijs reacted almost immediately. "I'll have Division 10 turn around," he said while already preparing to run outside. "They have the largest number of sharpshooters, making them the best suited to deal with flying targets. I'll split them into smaller teams and station them around the nearby secret realms while ordering the remaining divisions to spread out slightly to compensate for the weakened sections of the line."
Eloi nodded in approval. It was not an ideal solution, as thinning the defensive line always carried risks, but leaving the secret realms completely unguarded posed an even greater danger. Sometimes a commander had no choice but to choose the least dangerous option instead of a perfect one. In war, perfection rarely existed.
"Good," Eloi said as the attendants resumed fastening the last sections of his armor. "Get those orders out immediately. If those birds are smarter than we gave them credit for, I don't want them finding an opportunity simply because we failed to consider the possibility.""Yes, sir. I'll get it done," Selvijs replied without hesitation. He immediately sprinted out of the command tent to relay the new orders before the divisions reached their assigned positions. Every minute mattered now, and delaying those instructions even slightly could leave one of the secret realms vulnerable. Within moments, he had disappeared into the organized chaos outside the tent.
Afanasij watched him leave before turning his attention back to Eloi, whose attendants were steadily fastening the last pieces of his enormous suit of armor. Thick steel plates covered more and more of his body until only his face remained visible beneath the helmet. The armor was far too heavy for an ordinary person to wear effectively, yet Eloi stood comfortably as though he barely noticed its weight. The sight alone inspired confidence.
"What's with the armor?" Afanasij asked with an intrigued expression. "I don't remember you ever wearing something that excessive."
"It's simple," Eloi replied with a grin. "I'm going to the front lines to inspire the troops, and there is nothing quite as inspiring as a knight in full armor charging into battle." He raised an armored gauntlet before clenching it into a fist. "Right now, the soldiers need to see someone standing in front of them more than they need another speech."
His cheerful expression soon disappeared, replaced by the serious look of a commander analyzing a battlefield. "Afanasij, I believe the corrupted creatures are preparing one final attempt to break through the defensive line," he said while allowing one of his attendants to secure the breastplate. "That is why I'm heading straight to the center of the depression. If they attack there, I'll personally stop them."
He paused for a brief moment before continuing. "However, if the breakthrough happens in the exact middle of the entire defensive line, I want you to assume it is only a diversion." Eloi pointed toward several sections of the surrounding ridgeline marked on the battlefield map. "Those Stage 1 creatures won't care nearly as much about climbing steep slopes or rough terrain as the weaker corrupted creatures do."
"The ridgeline actually favors them," Eloi continued. "They have enough strength to climb it quickly, while our defenders would struggle to reposition in time if they broke through several locations at once. I wouldn't be surprised if they attempted multiple simultaneous breakthroughs during the next three hours. You need to prepare your reserves for that possibility."
Afanasij studied the map in silence as Eloi explained his reasoning. The more he thought about it, the more the prediction made sense. Up until now, the corrupted creatures had relied almost entirely upon brute force, but there was no guarantee they would continue doing so forever. If they possessed even a modest level of tactical intelligence, this would be the perfect moment to gamble everything on one decisive assault.
Eloi accepted his massive sword from one attendant before taking his shield from another. With every final adjustment completed, the towering suit of armor transformed him into something that looked less like a modern legion commander and more like a knight pulled from the pages of an ancient legend. Without another word, he turned and strode toward the entrance of the command tent.
His personal bodyguards immediately fell in behind him. Their armor was noticeably lighter than Eloi's, allowing them greater mobility while still providing excellent protection against the corrupted creatures. Even so, every member of the escort was a veteran chosen from the very best soldiers in Legion 23. Anyone foolish enough to underestimate them because they lacked Eloi's massive armor would pay dearly for that mistake.
Afanasij remained seated after they left, staring quietly at the entrance of the tent. For a brief moment, he wondered whether he had somehow misread their ranks, because Eloi had walked into his headquarters, issued several perfectly reasonable tactical recommendations, reorganized part of the battlefield, and then calmly marched off to personally reinforce the front line. It almost felt as though Eloi had been the senior commander all along.
Shaking his head, Afanasij pushed those thoughts aside. Rank no longer mattered when the survival of the defensive line hung by a thread. More importantly, Eloi's prediction seemed increasingly plausible the longer he considered it. If the Stage 1 creatures truly intended to launch coordinated breakout attempts, there would never be a better opportunity than right now.
Every passing hour weakened the corrupted army just as surely as it weakened the defenders. Tens of thousands of creatures were dying every hour, steadily reducing the pressure they could exert on the defensive line. If they waited too long, any future breakout would have far less of a chance of succeeding. From a purely tactical perspective, this was the ideal moment for the enemy to risk everything on one overwhelming assault.
Unlike the goblins the defenders had fought previously, the corrupted creatures also left no corpses behind after they died. Their bodies dissolved into black and purple particles that disappeared almost immediately, leaving the battlefield strangely clear despite the unimaginable slaughter taking place. That meant they did not suffer from the usual problem of their own dead obstructing future attacks. If they truly intended one final offensive, nothing on the battlefield would physically prevent them from launching it.