The smoke over the canyon was slowly clearing.
The wind shifted its course, pushing the stench of charred timber and industrial wreckage beyond the cliffside. Through the widening gaps, the cannoneers peered down into the grey haze of the ravine once more.
Their seasoned, keen eyes pierced through the dust clouds to lock onto the two remaining iron giants.
"Targets acquired, two units... Lock coordinates. Load round shot!"
The voice of the battery commander, a middle-aged veteran, echoed down the canyon walls like a thunderous decree.
— Thump —
Behind the gun shield, two loaders opened the palm-sized breach and hoisted a spherical projectile, heavy as an iron fist.
The screech of metal rang out as grease-slicked gloves brushed against the iron shell.
The surface of the round shot shimmered with a faint, residual crimson glow from the heat of the previous barrage.
The blood-red iron ball was shoved deep into the barrel.
The propellant charge followed swiftly, and the cannon dipped its heavy muzzle, sights set on the floor of the gorge.
The layer's fingers trembled slightly as they made fine adjustments to the scope. In his field of vision, the exhaust vents on the steel giant's shoulders opened and closed rhythmically, like a mechanical lung gasping for breath.
"Fire!"
A roar erupted—lower than thunder, deeper than the ocean.
Lacking a proper recoil system, the cannon lurched backward from the sheer force, belching out a cloud of acrid gunpowder smoke.
Simultaneously, the iron shell shrieked through the air, vibrating the very atmosphere of the canyon.
The first strike gave no room for a reprieve.
Countless rounds fired from the massed batteries grazed the backplates of the Steam Knights.
And among them, one fortunate sphere scored a direct hit on the center of a Steam Knight's engine block.
In an instant, the kinetic force tore through the steel casing like it was scrap paper.
From within, gears and pistons thick as stone were forcibly ejected, followed by an explosive eruption of compressed steam and white-hot lubricant.
"Agh, the pressure! William! Damn this godforsaken engine—!!"
The pilot's voice, trapped within the metallic resonance, rang out in a desperate scream.
The Steam Knight was consumed by fire.
But the cry did not reach its end.
A second chorus from the artillery joined the fray.
These were the heavy guns.
Armor-piercing shells, fired from barrels far thicker and longer than the others, burrowed into the ruptured gaps of the Steam Knight's engine bay.
— BOOM! —
The steel armor shattered into fragments that flew in every direction. Sparks rained down as shrapnel struck the shield of the last remaining Steam Knight charging alongside.
The hit machine's massive frame stumbled once, twice, before its knees buckled.
Steam vented violently for the last time from the exhaust ports, and the mechanical arms slumped slowly.
Finally, the colossal mass of iron collapsed, slamming into the earth.
The ground shuddered, a tremor that Alexandra and the soldiers stationed in the canyon felt through the soles of their boots.
"George... Respond, George...! Dammit!"
The voice of the remaining Steam Knight crackled, distorted by the machine's vox-grille.
Through his display, he watched the light within his comrade's armor slowly fade into darkness.
But there was no stopping.
He turned his gaze toward the batteries atop the cliffs.
Raising his steel shield, he attempted to sidestep the bombardment's trajectory, moving with a lumbering urgency.
However, the geography of the canyon denied him the necessary space.
Another cannon blast rang out.
It wasn't a perfect direct hit this time.
The shell grazed the upper rim of the shield, detonating against the reinforced plating and raining shrapnel down like hail.
Some of that metal rain struck the pilot's cockpit.
The steel exterior crumpled, creating a jagged breach, and the inner canopy glass shattered inward.
Suddenly, droplets of crimson blood sprayed within the suit.
"Urgh... It's fine... I can still hold...!"
William spat out blood as he forced the control levers upward.
Beneath his feet, the compressors whined, pushing the steam pressure to its absolute threshold.
White vapor cascaded from the suit's vents like a waterfall.
Having lost his shield, he gripped his greatsword with both hands and lowered his posture toward the point where Alexandra and Laman stood on the cliffside path.
Like a wounded beast making one final, desperate lunge, his machine struck the canyon floor with thunderous strides.
Each footfall cracked the stone and kicked up billows of dust.
The artillerymen on the heights tried to recalibrate their aim, but the machine was moving too fast now.
Furthermore, the remaining firing angles between the rocks were severely limited.
The air itself seemed to split.
The eyes of the last Steam Knight and Alexandra locked through the haze of dust and heat.
"If not for you... if not for you, you wretched bitch!!!"
Within the dust, the steel monster rampaged.
The sunlight above the canyon was shredded as it filtered down, casting shards of light through the churning dirt.
In those flashes, William's greatsword gleamed with a lethal intent.
Alexandra took a sharp breath.
The agony within her body was as sharp as a blade's edge, but her eyes remained remarkably clear and calm.
"Laman, stay back."
"What? But Alya, you're—"
"Do you not trust me?"
Alexandra motioned Laman behind her and prepared to receive the knight.
She planted her staff and gripped it with both hands.
A fierce wind swept between the two combatants.
On one side was a colossal armor stained with metal, steam, and blood;
On the other was a bloodied Caster, forcing her broken body to stand tall.
William launched himself first.
His greatsword sliced through the void, making the very air of the gorge scream under the force of the strike.
Alya twisted her frame, kicking off a protruding rock to sidestep the assault.
In that instant, black crystals blossomed from the tip of her staff.
— WHOOSH! —
The crystals took flight like birds, striking the knight's shoulder plating.
But William did not falter.
He absorbed the impact with the armor and pivoted, swinging his blade in a broad horizontal arc.
For a split second, Alya's boot caught on a crevice in the rock.
Following that sensation, she ducked low, using her staff to parry and deflect the blow.
The shriek of steel against crystal echoed throughout the canyon as they collided.
"I'll commend you for not running like a coward!"
William's voice was an echo through the metallic vents, a final, hollow roar of defiance.
"Though I won't let any of your comrades live!"
Alya's lips set into a cold line.
"That... is not for the likes of you to decide."
As she swept her staff, dozens of small crystals scattered into the wind.
They converged simultaneously upon the knight's knee joints and midsection.
William swatted some aside with his sword, but several burrowed deep into the mechanical joints.
"Gah...!"
The machine faltered.
Yet, he mustered his remaining strength to hoist the sword high.
Bloody droplets leaked from his mangled wrist.
Alya's breath was becoming ragged.
Her hands felt leaden, and her peripheral vision began to blur.
Despite the bandages over the gash in her abdomen, blood was beginning to soak through once more.
She knew that she had to end everything with this one strike.
William charged.
The massive greatsword caught the light, descending like a falling meteor.
In that moment, Alya's pupils were consumed by a void of black light.
The crystal manifesting from her staff was larger and sharper than anything she had conjured before.
It was no longer a scattering petal, but a spear destined to pierce through fate itself.
"This ends here!"
With her cry, blade and crystal met in mid-air.
Light and debris exploded outward as the air in the canyon churned with pressure.
And within that chaos, William's sword shattered.
As the broken tip of the blade struck the earth, Alya's crystal impaled the knight's chest.
Steam shrieked as it vented from the wound, and William's body slumped backward with a heavy weight.
For the last time, he raised a blood-stained hand within the cockpit.
Then, his fingers went limp.
The iron giant fell to its knees before collapsing onto the floor of the gorge.
The impact stirred the dust, which the wind eventually swept away toward the cliffs.
Alexandra leaned on her staff, looking down at the broken monster.
"At the very least, on this soil... your march is over."
Her gaze remained steadfast, refusing to dim until the very end.
******************************************************
Silence fell over the canyon as the Steam Knight collapsed.
The air, which until moments ago had been a cacophony of flame, steam, and the grinding of metal, went still as if the world were holding its breath.
Alexandra braced herself with her staff, her knees threatening to give way under the strain.
Her shoulders rose and fell slowly, and warm blood trickled down from her side.
Every breath sent a burning agony through her ribs.
From the cliffside batteries, a roar of voices erupted.
"It's over! The last one is down!"
"Battery, cease fire! Check remaining ammunition!"
"Medic! Send a medic down!"
"Phew... I thought my heart was going to stop."
The cheers and footsteps of soldiers filled the air above the ravine.
Through the settling dust, several cannoneers waved their hands over the ledge.
But Alya no longer had the strength to even look up at them.
In the corner of her vision, the burning wreckage of the Steam Knight hummed softly as the flames consumed it.
It sounded like a dirge, mourning the conclusion of this brutal battle.
"Finally... it's... over...."
Alya's voice was a mere whisper carried away by the wind.
She tried to let go of her staff, but her fingers refused to uncurl.
At that moment, the roar of a rugged engine echoed from the canyon entrance.
A truck that had miraculously survived with its tires intact sped through the dust.
Laman, having jumped out of the passenger seat before it even came to a full stop, rushed toward her without hesitation.
"Alya!"
He caught her by the shoulders.
When he saw her blood-soaked side, his eyes wavered with terror.
"Dammit... How did it get this bad? You said you'd be fine."
Alexandra looked at his panicked face and let out a weak chuckle.
"Still... we did it, didn't we?"
Alya gave a faint, fragile smile.
"We stopped them... right here."
Her eyelids felt heavy, pulling her into darkness.
Laman scooped her up and looked around.
On the cliffs, medics were descending by rope, and soldiers were already moving to secure the wreckage.
The wind was still biting, but it no longer carried the scent of fire.
Beyond the smoke, the sky remained grey, yet somehow, it felt a little brighter.
***************************************
The ceiling of the field hospital was low.
Wind brushed against the tent's roof, making the thin fabric flutter with an unsettling vibration.
The air was thick with the scent of bandages and antiseptic—familiar, but never comforting.
I looked down at Alexandra as she lay on the stretcher. Layers of bandages were wrapped around her flank and abdomen, with crimson stains spreading where the bleeding hadn't quite stopped.
The army surgeon set aside his silver stethoscope and exhaled a short, weary breath.
"Chairman, it... Comrade Military People's Commissar Alexandra's injuries are severe. Three ribs broken, two more cracked. The muscular laceration is deeper than expected. There is internal hemorrhaging."
He peeled back a bandage slightly to inspect the wound before tightening it again.
"She needs absolute bed rest for at least six months. With rehabilitation, it will be a year. She cannot be allowed to overexert herself under any circumstances."
Alexandra muttered with her eyes half-closed.
"Six months? That's absurd... If Victoria betrays us and deploys more Steam Knights, I don't know what will happen to the front.... And the wound wasn't even that deep."
The surgeon's face hardened into a mask of professional severity.
"What are you talking about? If things had gone just a bit differently, you would have died from shock right there. It's a miracle you're alive. If you push yourself now, you could ruin your body for life. If rehabilitation fails, forget using a staff—your Oripathy will flare up beyond control."
Hearing those words sent a chill through my chest.
Even in the heat of war, I tried to view the blood of my acquaintances with the same cold detachment as that of a stranger, calculating everything with pragmatic logic. But just now, realistic profit-and-loss calculations were failing me.
The six-month vacuum where she would be absent from the battlefield would be a massive blow.
That is, if Victoria truly decided to stab us in the back with everything they had.
But for now, her pale face and shallow breathing were more troubling than any hypothetical strategy.
"Alya, this is an order. Devote yourself to your recovery."
My voice was low and unwavering.
She looked at me for a moment before turning her head away.
She didn't look particularly repentant.
After the surgeon withdrew, silence reigned in the tent for a moment.
Wrangel was the one to break it.
He shed his heavy greatcoat and sat beside Alexandra.
"If you had died today, this victory would have been meaningless. When an asymmetrical asset like you falls, do you know how much more blood must be shed to fill that gap?"
His voice was quiet, but each word carried the weight of a sledgehammer.
Alexandra avoided his gaze once more.
I took the opportunity to speak again.
"A commander throwing themselves away recklessly is not valor—it's negligence. I want you to be there when the front truly needs you, not throwing your life away in the center of every skirmish."
Her lips were pressed thin. I knew that silence too well; it was a mixture of stubbornness and internal protest.
Finally, Maxim approached. He snorted, setting down a bundle of bandages the size of a man's forearm.
"If you don't listen to the medic, you'll die by my hand first. Understood? If the doctor said six months, you'd better stay buried in that hospital bed for eight. Was it Kal'tsit? If that medic hadn't submitted those proposals for improving our medical system recently, you wouldn't even have the medicine to stay alive."
He crossed his arms and spoke with blunt finality.
"If you pull a stunt like this again, I'll break your legs myself before you even start rehabilitation. Do I make myself clear?"
The words poured out by Wrangel, myself, and Maxim settled heavily within the tent.
Alexandra finally gave a slight, resigned nod.
"... I understand.... I will... exercise restraint."
But in the depths of her eyes, I didn't see the thought 'I won't do it again.' I saw 'I'll do better next time.'
... Well, that was just how she was.
Regardless, if Kal'tsit's reforms saved Alya, I owe her one.
I'll have to suggest increasing support for Kazdel at the next International Communist Party meeting.
************************************
"Supplies are crossing over from Leithanien!"
"The wagons are marked 'International—Leithanien Communist Party.' How should we proceed?"
"Hehe. I knew I could count on Kal'tsit. Even though she always says Chairman Vladimir is suspicious, she must have stayed in his good graces. Support from the International is already here! Well, I had a hunch ever since she brought back that signed book."
'Overseer, what on Terra are you plotting? Why provide such support...! Could it be... is your true goal really to deceive Theresia...?'
Kal'tsit felt like weeping.