Heroes of Legacy: Embers of Light

“Why... Why has everything become like this?”

The man questioned the situation that he increasingly failed to understand, a situation that was slipping further beyond his control and bringing his time of death ever closer. Everyone had now turned against him, raising their swords to cut off his head at the ruler’s command.

In the year 1647, a ceasefire was signed by both sides. The war horns had fallen silent. In only half a decade, the black eagle banners with red eyes had proudly flown across half of the continent. The devastating war declared by the Lesbart Empire against the kingdoms had completely redrawn the territorial borders on the map of the continent.

The man—leader of the Empire’s First Knight Division and commander of the Imperial Army, Aryan Leonhardt—was the figure most responsible for the great victory in that war.

He had bravely led his troops, conquering the kingdoms that fought against the Empire. Eventually, both his enemies and comrades gave him the title Mighty Knight, the strongest knight on the entire continent.

His strength was acknowledged by the Emperor—even by every kingdom that opposed the Empire—which made him one of the key figures behind the Empire’s current power. But... everything changed...

That day, Aryan was summoned to appear before the Emperor. He walked across the red carpet until he was close enough to the Emperor’s throne, then knelt respectfully.

“Commander of the First Knight Division, Aryan Leonhardt, has come in response to Your Majesty’s summons,” he said, lowering his head respectfully before the ruler.

“Thank you for coming, Aryan,” the Emperor replied.

The majestic figure sat upon the throne. His skin was slightly pale, his hair blond, and his eyes incredibly sharp—sharper than any sword ever forged. He was the ruler of half the continent, the great leader of the Lesbart Empire, Emperor Alberich.

“Aryan, my knight. It has been five years since that great battle ended, and we have successfully conquered numerous kingdoms, taking half of this continent. All of this is thanks to your hard work, which has brought glory to the Empire,” the Emperor said, praising the commander of the Imperial forces.

“Your praise is an honor, Your Majesty. But none of this was accomplished by me alone. The Imperial troops, as well as your wisdom, have brought this Empire to its glory, and it will remain so forever.”

Aryan’s flattering words managed to draw a faint smile across the Emperor’s face for a moment before it returned to its grim expression.

“Aryan, there is something I want to ask of you,” the Emperor said.

The Emperor’s deep voice made Aryan furrow his brow. He knew there was something serious hidden within those words.

Aryan raised his head and looked at the Emperor’s grim, worried face. “Tell me, Your Majesty. What do you require?” Aryan asked.

Then the Emperor spoke again. “I have just received word from the physicians that there is an outbreak in one of our territories. The plague is out of control and extremely deadly. The physicians have been trying to deal with it for a week, but they have made no progress.”

“A week!? Isn’t that already quite a long time? What kind of plague is it, Your Majesty?” Aryan asked, slightly interrupting the Emperor.

However, as if he did not particularly mind Aryan’s impolite interruption or raised voice, the Emperor calmly replied, “The physicians do not know either. They are working together with the Empire’s researchers to investigate this plague. But they need a long time, and the outbreak is getting worse...”

The plague was worsening. If it was not dealt with, it would spread and become even more severe. A cure had still not been found, so what was to be done? Aryan had already realized what the Emperor was going to ask of him.

“I truly do not wish to... But the safety of millions of Imperial citizens is far more valuable, Aryan. I hope you understand.”

It was an implied order that Aryan did not want to hear, yet he understood every word the Emperor had spoken. A small sense of regret filled his heart as he understood what His Majesty meant. Even so, an order was still an order.

“The Empire’s First Troop will receive your orders, Emperor Alberich.”

Aryan, accompanied by a small portion of his forces from the First Division of the Imperial Army, moved toward a village near a forest within Imperial territory. Among them was a group equipped with Rumstone-powered rifles and another group carrying special weapons that the Imperial researchers still classified as “experimental.”

Because there was an outbreak, every soldier in the small unit Aryan had brought wore masks covered with special cloth to prevent infection.

The troops moved in an orderly and silent manner at their commander’s command. They were not simply going to burn the village and return. Aryan had come with a nobler plan.

“Proceed with the first stage.”

The launcher squad moved slightly ahead of Aryan, forming an orderly line as they prepared a launcher—a short barrel attached to a handle, its muzzle widened to a diameter of 40 mm, a simple device with a trigger as its primary control. With a single pull of the trigger, an object shot forward and entered the village. The object exploded without a sound, releasing only a thick cloud of smoke.

On the other side, the execution squad stood ready. They carried two small reddish-colored tanks with hoses connected to metal devices, each fitted with a long steel barrel attached to a handle with controls similar to those of the launcher. Once the smoke had spread, they entered the village wearing masks that neutralized its effects. They aimed the muzzles of their barrels at the villagers’ homes and pulled the triggers...

*Bhoooosh*

From a distance, Aryan could see an orange burst shooting up toward the sky. Small explosions could be heard, followed by thick black smoke rising above the village. Even so, no cries from the villagers reached his ears, as though silence had enveloped the entire place and the songs of everyday life had stopped forever.

The crow-masked group returned, making a little noise as though they were proud of what they had done. Of course, Aryan understood. This was the decree of the great Emperor. They could take pride in fulfilling His Majesty’s wishes.

“First stage successful, Commander.”

Aryan nodded. “Everyone, the mission is complete. Put your equipment away. We are going home.”

“Yes!” they answered in unison.

Suddenly, a soldier nearby asked, “Sir, why don’t we just burn them directly? I think it would be faster.”

Aryan answered calmly, “Deputy Squad Leader, you are right. But they are also human, just like our own people. They are not enemies, nor are they traitors. At the very least, they should be allowed to leave peacefully. Dying in their sleep will ease their suffering.”

Indeed, their purpose was not to cure them, but to eliminate the village infected by the mysterious plague. The Emperor believed that such an unethical action could stop the plague before it eventually spread.

After some time had passed, the soldiers assigned to the task finally returned to their gathering point on a hill not far from the village.

Their expressions showed satisfaction, as though they had just obtained a priceless treasure. Then, a Magus squad leader gave Aryan his report.

He knelt before the commander and said, “Sir Aryan, the second stage has been carried out. All the buildings and facilities in the village have burned down. There are no signs that any of the villagers are still conscious. We also eliminated the village guards who were outside the buildings.”

“Good work. Then the mission is complete. Let us return—”

“Wait!”

The voice came with a cloaked figure who suddenly appeared before Aryan, forcing the soldiers to raise their weapons. Aryan raised his hand, signaling them to hold their fire.

“You... What are you doing here?” Aryan asked suspiciously.

The figure replied, “I am from the reconnaissance division. I was assigned by the General to oversee your mission.”

The deputy squad leader furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Reconnaissance division? I thought the First Division did not need one. Especially when Lord Aryan is leading,” said a soldier whom Aryan had entrusted as the deputy squad leader of this operation.

Aryan asked him curtly, “What brings you here? We have finished carrying out His Majesty the Emperor’s orders. You can see it for yourself.”

“You are mistaken.”

Aryan was startled—not only him, but the entire unit there, especially the Magus troops who had contributed the most to the operation.

“What do you mean?”

The figure leapt down from a tree branch and approached Aryan, whispering as though he did not want anyone else to hear. That was understandable, considering Aryan, their leader, had been visibly shaken by his words.

“What!?”

The scout nodded. Blood rushed through Aryan’s body. He immediately ran toward the village, shouting to his troops to return ahead of him. Aryan ran as fast as he could toward the burning village after hearing the figure’s whisper:

There were no signs of a plague in that village...

The brightness of the sky gradually disappeared beneath dark clouds. Slowly, rain began to fall upon the earth. Aryan quickened his pace, rushing back toward the village that had been their target.

Sir, there were no signs of a plague in that village...

The scout’s whispered words were impossible for him to believe, because it had been His Majesty the Emperor himself who had delivered the news. Yet the uneasiness in his heart made Aryan doubt his master. He could not stop running, continuing until he reached the village gate.

His footsteps began to feel heavy. Water seeped into his armor, and the weight of his steel armor made it difficult for him to walk.

A moment later, Aryan stopped in his tracks as he witnessed the aftermath of their mission. The rain extinguishing the flames that had consumed the village left behind nothing but useless ruins.

“What do you really want? Are you trying to betray me?” Aryan asked loudly as he realized the cloaked figure was there.

“I would never betray you—”

The scout’s words stopped when his eyes fell upon the commander drawing his sword from its sheath. His breathing quickened. He stood frozen, feeling the sharp gaze and intimidating aura before him, as though he were about to be devoured by a predator.

“Stop making excuses. There is no way you could have checked inside the villagers’ burning homes. Even if you arrived before us, you should have told me first, correct? Or perhaps you never intended to do so...”

“Wait a moment, Lord Aryan. I have not betrayed you in the slightest. I understand your chivalrous nature, which is why I reported the truth to you.”

Aryan narrowed his eyes at the scout’s words, his suspicion of the man still at its highest.

“As you know, the reconnaissance division monitors every unit carrying out a mission. I witnessed the Magus troops burning the houses, but at that moment, I saw a little girl who was still conscious.”

Aryan’s brow furrowed deeply at his words.

‘That is impossible,’ Aryan thought, rejecting the scout’s claim.

He was certain it could not have happened, because the mist they had “created” was developed by the Empire’s finest scientists. The mist was supposed to be strong enough to render its victims unconscious for an entire day.

“Please follow me,” the scout continued, taking the lead toward the remains of a house on the eastern side.

Aryan followed wherever the scout went until they reached a tree that had survived the flames that consumed the village.

Aryan stopped immediately, his eyes widening at what the scout showed him. Behind the tree was a girl in tattered clothes, unconscious. But that was not the only thing the scout wanted Aryan to see.

“I found her beside the burning house. She kept crying, so I rendered her unconscious.”

It was a poor way to silence a girl, but Aryan understood that there must have been more to his reason.

“Then I realized... there were no signs of any illness on this girl.”

Aryan carefully approached the girl beneath the tree, as he still could not believe the scout’s words.

Normally, those afflicted with a mysterious disease would display clear physical symptoms, such as rashes or bruises. Their breathing would become irregular, and their body temperature would become abnormal. Yet the girl showed none of these signs. Aryan stood deep in thought, filled with questions. What had actually happened? If there was no plague, then why had the Emperor ordered him to burn this village?

Amid his confusion over the strange events, a group of people began shouting his rank and name in the military. His troops were searching for Aryan, who had suddenly left.

“They...” Aryan turned toward the group of soldiers searching for him in the village, then shifted his eyes back to the village girl.

“Lord Aryan, should we eliminate—”

The scout’s voice caught in his throat when he received a sharp look from Aryan.

“Sorry... You definitely would not do that,” the scout said.

He knew that Aryan, an Imperial knight feared by his enemies for his brutality, would never stain his hands with the blood of innocent civilians. Throughout his military career in the Empire, Aryan had never once ordered his troops to loot or take civilians from another kingdom hostage during wartime. He drew his sword only against those who fought the Empire with a sword.

But... what about now?

“Take this girl to my quarters. Make sure no one sees you,” Aryan said as he turned and walked toward his troops.

“As you wish.”

The sound of steel boots in the increasingly heavy rain grew farther and farther away from them. The scout quickly left the place with the girl in his arms, carrying her like a princess.

The soldiers who saw Aryan approaching immediately hurried over and gathered around him.

“What are you doing here? I told you to return ahead of me, didn’t I?” Aryan asked, his voice raised and carrying a hint of anger toward his soldiers.

They immediately fell silent, raising their chins toward the sky. They stiffened upon hearing the anger in their commander’s voice.

“S-sorry, Sir. But we came here because we were worried.”

“Th-that’s right!”

Their hands and feet trembled, whether from the cold rain or from fear of facing Aryan’s anger. This made Aryan let out a weary sigh.

“Very well. I understand your concern. Have the others already returned?” Aryan asked, noticing that fewer soldiers had arrived than the total number of troops involved in the operation.

“Yes. Aside from those of us here, the remaining troops have returned to the nearest city,” one of the soldiers answered.

Aryan replied with an order. “All right, then let us quickly regroup with the others.”

“Yes!” they answered in unison before leaving the village.

Aryan’s feet did not immediately follow them. His head turned back toward the tree, where he could no longer see the scout or the village girl—the only girl who should not have been among the other villagers because she had supposedly been killed by his troops.

Countless questions continued to claw at his mind, demanding answers, but no matter how hard he thought, he could not find a single suitable answer.

He knew there was only one person who held the key to all his questions.

‘What is really happening...’

To be continued.