CHAPTER 438: WOULD YOU DO SAME?

Outside, it was pitch black. The howling cold wind, mixed with a few snowflakes, constantly battered the windows and eaves, causing even the candlelight a wall’s distance away to flicker slightly from the vibration.

Lyra felt the turmoil within her chest. She looked around and saw dark shadows cast on the brown-yellow birch floor.

"And before facing such an outcome, I know everyone has doubts in their hearts..."

"Why would I become a sacrifice in a long war, a corpse forever sleeping in the tundra, the one who lost everything?"

"I came here only for the Duke’s reward, to complete the graduation ceremony of the Elizabeth Academy of Magic, to eat fresh beef pies, and for the beautiful life I can enjoy in the future."

"Everything I pursue runs contrary to the word ’death,’ and at this very moment, I am so close to it, as if the sharp knife that could cut my throat is already within reach."

A light female voice echoed in the dining hall, mixed with the clanging of scabbards hitting armor. Lyra was swallowed, her clear blue eyes reflected the faint glow of the candles.

"I don’t want to die like this; no one wants to die."

Avoiding death is a biological instinct; everyone is like this.

Hearing the heavy sound of boot heels treading the floor and the faint clinking of a small metal lunchbox against a fork, Lyra paused in silence, then spoke.

"I believe many of you present here know my experiences."

"A year ago, at the magic exchange competition organized by the Elizabeth Academy of Magic, I defeated Princess Iris Kroyd of the Kingdom of Velys, despite being of a lower rank."

"The Emperor called this a glorious feat and personally bestowed upon me a medal, granting me the title of Baroness."

"At that moment, I never imagined that I would one day be so close to death."

Soldiers stationed at the border will see a batch of mages from the imperial capital enter the Grand Duke’s territory each year to conduct several months of military camp practical activities. From these people, they also learned about the three ways to graduate from the Elizabeth Academy of Magic.

A genius like Lyra, who cultivated both magic and combat techniques, coupled with the protection of the Third Princess Astrid, had no need to go to the Northern Territory for such dangerous practical activities.

In other words, she understood how perilous this journey was, yet still chose this path. This action alone surpasses countless noble scions who, despite lacking talent, merely listed themselves for border training while actually hiding in the imperial capital, enjoying wealth and luxury.

"Like you, I also have parents I care about, ideals I have long wished to achieve, and a future I have secretly planned in my heart..."

"...and someone I yearn to see in my dreams."

"Because of this, when I stand upon the high wall, looking down at the blood and corpses below, my heart involuntarily feels timid, and I have thought of escaping this conflict-ridden place."

"Even the glorious knight in your eyes cannot avoid inner weakness."

Duke Charles once intended to use Lyra as a beacon in the army, inspiring morale in the name of a glorious knight.

Now, the pink-haired knight in bright armor chose to cast aside this honor, revealing her timid, mortal heart to the world.

"I am afraid I will die, and I have regretted it during moments of rest."

"If I hadn’t embarked on this path, perhaps I would have returned to my hometown by now, bought several properties for my parents, become a glorious knight admired by all, an imperial pride who came out of a mountain village."

Undeniably, this was the inner reality of most soldiers.

In the face of death, everything becomes meaningless; they just want to leave the shell-battered walls and return to the temporarily stable imperial heartland.

At least, being a coachman, a farmhand, or a merchant wouldn’t involve constant fear, dreading that their lives might slip away like fine sand in their hands at any moment.

Seeing the surrounding listeners slightly moved, no longer so numb, Lyra gently stroked the hilt of her sword, the metal pattern of a rose feeling cool in her palm.

"But, I am already standing here."

"Liya tower Fortress, the bridgehead of the entire border defense line. Behind us is the frozen plain, where iron cavalry can advance unimpeded. Once a breakthrough is made, the cavalry can travel day and night, directly reaching the imperial heartland."

"Duke Grant mentioned in their combat mobilization that the Valeria Empire is a fertile land flowing with milk and honey, abundant with cattle, sheep, silk, and fine wine, and he insisted that it rightfully belongs to the Kingdom of Velys."

Her originally clear voice gradually rose, like steadily rising emotions. Lyra clenched her holy sword, her pink lips parting.

"Their purpose is to plunder farmlands, seize territories, and stuff all the wealth into their own pockets."

"Think about it, under the shadow of war, those soldiers who relentlessly attack the city walls as if never tiring, once the empire’s gates open to them, what will happen next?"

"These bandits, filled with hatred and anger, will devour their prey like the fiercest tigers and jackals, burning our homes to the ground, leaving us with no shelter in the cold wind, taking away our sustenance, and letting our children die of starvation..."

"This is just the first step; in my opinion, such methods can even be called gentle."

Lyra spoke as she drew her sword. The Sword of Light flowing with sacred radiation under the candlelight.

"No one can survive under the iron hooves of heavy cavalry, whether farmer, coachman, carpenter, or fisherman live by fishing."

"Without soldier protection, these vicious and despicable scoundrels will not hesitate to raise their butcher’s knives, treating our relatives and friends as livestock, severing limbs, slitting throats and draining blood, carrying out inhumane extermination massacres."

"Men with some strength will become slaves, while frail women will become tools for their release. As for children under the shadow of war, their end will only be more tragic."

Whether it was history recorded in books or the virtual barrier Lyra personally experienced through the Sword of Light, she could glimpse a corner of it, knowing the ugliness and nearly collapsed humanity that bred under war.

"As soon as the fortress falls, all the beautiful futures everyone envisioned will turn into a bubble that bursts with a touch, and all peaceful lives will become illusions."

"Everything you are currently experiencing will be replayed on your loved ones, and they do not have the swords we hold, the high walls to confront enemies from above, or the magic energy weapons that can release powerful magic with minimal human loss."

"We are deeply mired in the quagmire of war, keeping the shadow of death beyond the national border, preventing more people from facing the same fate. This is the meaning of our steadfastness here."

Having said that, Lyra raised her longsword, its sharp edge glinting with dazzling points of light, like a briefly reappearing sun.

"Everyone, I can understand your pain, and I can understand the timidity and fear that naturally arises from within."

"But please remember, the people who caused this situation are directly opposite the fortress, in that temporary stronghold built upon the ruins of the outpost."

"It is their endless desire for expansion that brought us destruction. It is their constantly foul and dirty hearts that dyed the entire fortress into a sea of blood."

"They are the initiators of this entire war, the source of all ugliness, and the ones who deserve to be buried in the tundra."

"Soldiers, no... I should say heroes."

Lyra turned around, her gaze sweeping the surroundings, her tone more resolute than ever.

"Behind us is the Empire, our families, and a future forged by the ideals of many."

"If anyone dares to covet it, they will suffer a fierce, unceasing counterattack."

"Please always grip your weapons and fight for yourselves."

They were soldiers; the only thing that could ever protect them was the weapon in their hands.

"Fight, everyone."

"Let our fallen comrades see that their sacrifice was not in vain."

The Sword of Light released waves of heat, blowing the soft pink hair at the girl’s waist. Pure light and warmth enveloped the dining hall, illuminating Lyra’s fair, pretty face.

The originally flickering candlelight now became still, and the windows, battered by the cold wind, also stopped shaking at the same time. The creaking sounds no longer echoed, and the holy light bathing their bodies seemed to merge with their spirits, gently supporting their souls.

Peak tier Magnus level Light Element Magic, [May Light Always Be with the Heroes].

This was also the last bit of mental power Lyra had left after coming down from the city wall.

"Fight..."

A low male voice echoed in the room, like a giant stone thrown into a lake, creating ripples. Then came a second voice, a third.

"Fight."

"Fight."

"Fight!!"

"Drive these bandits out."

Discussions rose and fell like waves. In a short while, the dining hall transformed from its initial silence into a fervor, with everyone repeating the same word.

Fight.

To avenge their fallen comrades, to exact blood for blood from the culprits who started this unjust war.

Listening to the roars of the surrounding soldiers, Lyra continued to channel the Light Element Magic until her mental power showed signs of depletion, then she stopped the transmission.

"Lyra..."

Hearing someone call her, Lyra turned her head and saw Phillice, the Duke’s daughter, in a white dress.

"...That was quite an inspiring speech."

Even she felt her heart stirred, and was even somewhat eager for the Kingdom of Velys to launch its next attack so she could kill more enemies.

"Just speak from the heart."

Lyra re-sheathed her sword and sat back in her previous seat.

If the army continued to maintain the previous low morale, a collapse of spirit would be inevitable.

In such a critical moment, someone had to step forward, and her strength and identity happened to fit the role.

Phillice nodded upon hearing this, a hint of admiration unconsciously flashing in her eyes. Seeing the seat opposite Lyra empty, she softly spoke.

"May I dine here?"

Lyra looked at her upon hearing this, then nodded slightly.

"Of course, Miss Phillice, please feel free."

It’s just that seat... usually taken by Aria...

Remembering her severely wounded squad member who was recuperating, Lyra’s mood, which had been slightly uplifted by her speech, once again became low.

Such a gentle girl, yet now she could only live for another twenty-odd years.

This was war.

Seeing that the Holy Light Knight in front of her was somewhat off, with a touch of melancholy compared to the passion she displayed during her speech, Phillice keenly noticed this but didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent.

’What’s wrong, Miss Lyra...?’

After dinner, Lyra bid farewell to her squad members and returned to her temporary lodging, intending to go to sleep quickly to recover her mental power and prepare for the imminent next battle.

Reaching the doorway, she heard rhythmic footsteps behind her, but it wasn’t the muffled thud of standard military boots on the ground, but a lighter sound. Lyra politely turned to face the newcomer.

"Is there anything, Miss Phillice?"

Phillice, whose whereabouts had been discovered, showed no panic. She pursed her lips and said,

"Nothing, I just think Lyra is amazing..."

"Everyone’s spirits were a bit too tense, thanks to Lyra’s speech tonight."

Although it couldn’t fundamentally solve the war-weariness among the soldiers, it at least clarified the enemy and the potential cost of retreating.

These two points alone were enough to alleviate some of the negative emotions accumulated within the army.

"Miss Phillice, you flatter me."

Lyra placed her hand on the doorknob, a hint of weariness welling up in her heart.

"Also... Lyra..."

After a few seconds of silence, Phillice spoke softly.

"Are you... alright...?"

"..."

Lyra didn’t respond immediately, but after a moment, she spoke.

"Why do you ask me that?"

"...I just feel like something is on your mind."

Phillice blinked, summoning the courage to ask.

"It should be, nothing serious, right?"

She couldn’t quite explain it, but she vaguely sensed that Lyra’s mood wasn’t very good.

Half a minute later, Lyra replied.

"Thank you for your concern, Miss Phillice, I’m fine."

"Perhaps I’ve consumed too much mental power lately, and I’m a bit tired."

Having said that, she pulled the room’s doorknob, her delicate legs, covered in thickened white silk, crossed and swayed.

"It’s late, Miss Phillice, you should also rest early."

Watching Lyra enter the room, Phillice hesitated for a moment, then nodded and replied.

"Mm, Lyra."

The door closed. Lyra removed her knight boots, and the Holy Sword of Light at her waist transformed into points of light, merged into the rounded, pink nail of her index finger.

No longer facing so many eyes, the girl, slightly relieved, sat on the edge of the bed and gently untied the black hair tie from the back of her head.

Her soft, cool pink hair broke free from its, falling like a waterfall. Lyra brought her knees together, wrapped her hands around her two smooth legs, and lowered her head, her lips close to the silk hair ornament she had just taken off.

After a long while, Lyra spoke with a complex tone.

"Astrid..."

"If it were you... would you do the same?"