"Ramiro hasn't heard the news from the border yet."
Ivan spoke while sitting on the terrace of the guest room assigned to the Saintess. It was late afternoon, and they had just managed to escape from the banquet hall where festivities had continued until sunset.
The Saintess leaned against the terrace railing and spoke quietly.
"I knew about the train derailment."
"Which means the train attack was Ramiro's doing. Once we leave Ebron, a pursuit team will be right behind us."
"How did you know he wasn't aware of the news?"
"The horses we rode here."
Ivan continued, recalling what Count Felipe had said.
"I just figured out what happened to those horses."
"Ah, so they were the military horses the knights were riding."
"Yes. Now he'll realize they weren't lost but taken, and from the king's perspective, he'll assume our forces are greater than they actually are."
Despite only six people entering the city, the forces mobilized for the train attack exceeded five hundred soldiers, not counting the knights, and more than six knights in total.
The king would assume they couldn't have broken through all those forces by themselves, so he must be considering a border invasion by Krasilov Kingdom or a comparable military mobilization.
If so, he wouldn't be able to take direct action in Leonor. Since Leonor directly bordered Krasilov, they would be the first to be crushed if Krasilov advanced. In such a position, they wouldn't make bold moves without proper intelligence.
Considering all this...
"By now, the king's messenger should be heading toward the northern border, and if the nobleman who carried out the attack sent a messenger quickly, it would reach Ebron by tomorrow. Once they realize we entered the country without other forces, they'll immediately begin tracking us..."
"By calculation, we'll be three days ahead, at least two."
Ivan nodded at the Saintess's words. In this world, unless one was an elf or a high-ranking noble of the Privy Council, information could only be transmitted physically.
Breaking through enemy lines by exploiting information lag wasn't a difficult concept. Especially if the opponent was a member nation of the same "Alliance."
All they needed to do was leave the opponent's territory before they could fully process the information and respond.
"If we allow two days to cross the western plains of Lorensia, we can reach the Papal State on time even while avoiding major cities."
"Hmm..."
The Saintess stretched pleasantly as she gazed at the evening sunset.
"After we attend the council and the factions divide, what then? If everything resolves according to the Lord's will and matters conclude relatively... peacefully."
The Saintess gently placed her hand on Ivan's back. He could feel her snow-white fingers twitching on his rough uniform coat.
"Would you consider becoming a Templar Knight for the newly established church?"
"No."
"Not even later?"
"Hmm."
"Even if the Lord wishes it?"
"I'll negotiate amicably with the party concerned."
"What good deeds did Elize do in her past life to deserve..."
"Good deeds in a past life, huh."
Ivan couldn't help but chuckle.
For someone who had fallen into this cursed world due to sins committed in a past life and had been struggling for thirty years, it was quite an amusing statement.
The evening sunset hung over the castle walls. Ivan turned his back and said:
"Let's depart now."
"Let's do that, brother."
The Saintess giggled as she embraced Ivan's nape. In response, Ivan lightly stepped on the terrace railing and jumped straight down beneath the spire.
Until he landed, slowing his descent by striking the crevices in the castle wall with an axe he pulled from his possession, Ivan's movements made no sound.
"No, you definitely said tomorrow morning!"
"Our senior said we'd leave this evening. This is basic misdirection, I tell you."
"Ugh... I just want to... rest a little more..."
"Essie. Let's go. Stop grumbling."
"Bella!!"
The group was standing beneath the south gate, murmuring among themselves. When Ivan and the Saintess appeared in the distance on the main road, Lucia straightened her chest and lifted her chin as if to say, "See, I was right!"
Asidis sighed and weakly waved her hand.
"How much further do we have to go?"
"Two days to the Lorensian border, then another two days through western Lorensia. Four days total."
Ivan jumped onto his horse's back and extended his hand to the Saintess. After she took his hand and sat on the saddle, he immediately grabbed the reins and said:
"During that time, we'll ride until the horses collapse."
"And after that?"
"Then we abandon the horses and run."
At Ivan's words, Isabelle chuckled and took her reins in response.
"Repetition, mastery, training."
Oskar chuckled at her joke. The group, having regained their composure after a brief rest, began to move.
Two days later, when they reached the Leonor-Lorensia border.
After gathering their belongings from the last horse that had finally collapsed, Ivan looked bitterly at the military banners visible at the edge of the plain.
"More capable than expected."
A massive red dragon clutching a shield in one hand fluttered on the banner at the horizon. Beneath it, rows of smaller banners could be seen.
The Knights of Leonor, Orden de los Caballeros del Drago. The Caballeria Real, the Royal Knights of Leonor, led directly by Count Felipe de la Almagro, were stationed there.
"Should we... break through?"
"They've already seen us from over there."
Ivan clicked his tongue briefly and thought. They planned to move their troops as soon as the council ended. Leonor wasn't targeting Krasilov but rather...
'They were preparing a grand strategy anticipating that one of the Six Southern Nations would be excommunicated.'
Perhaps they thought they had little chance of winning if they engaged directly with Krasilov, Tilles, or Droan. That wolf-like monarch was keeping Lorensia, with whom he had allied, in check first.
And that meant—
"Um, over there...!"
Lorensia would also be keeping Leonor in check at the border.
Military banners were fluttering on the opposite horizon. The lily emblem representing Lorensia's border legion waved beneath the afternoon plain.
They needed to reach the Papal State by crossing through western Lorensia while two armies were stationed facing each other.
'This is because we plotted the shortest route to the Papal State.'
The council would be held at the Papal State. In other words, to be the first to know the council's results, one had to be stationed in the area closest to the Papal State.
"Go."
Ivan clicked his tongue and gestured to his companions.
"What? Where to?"
"The Papal State. The Saintess knows the way from here, so keep going without stopping. You should be able to arrive in about two days."
"What about you, sir?"
"I'll follow."
Ivan pulled out his axe as he watched the approaching knights' armor in the distance. The metal gleamed brilliantly under the sun.
"Keep your distance."
If the Saintess failed to reach the council, Krasilov would be in danger. He didn't care if the Six Southern Nations split and fought among themselves, but he couldn't allow the north, which bordered the Demon Realm, to be endangered.
Tilles maintained the eastern front, Krasilov the northern front, and Droan the western front. Worrying about the rear was more than enough during the Great War era. It couldn't happen in this era either.
A world where the righteous are sacrificed for the desires of kings and monarchs, and an era of survival of the fittest where everyone must fight against everyone else to gain everything after the righteous have disappeared, must not come to pass.
If that were to happen, what did the Hero and Beolgrin, Gil Ber, the great king and his comrades sacrifice themselves for?
And...
'I made a promise.'
To Gil Ber, and again to Beolgrin. He promised his lost friends.
That he would never again lose a comrade before his eyes. That was his "page" that he realized after long contemplation.
They say all transmigrators have their own way of turning their page. Yes, if so, then this is his story. To never lose anyone again.
Something he had always failed at throughout his past life. If his story wasn't over yet because of that, then not anymore. No more.
And one more thing.
Though he had never succeeded in protecting anyone, at least in one thing—he had never failed to survive.
-Click.
Ivan loaded his gun and stepped forward.
Isabelle and the others, watching his back, soon bowed their heads deeply and began to run.
The knight at the front slowly reduced his speed, glanced at the departing group's backs, and raised his visor.
Ivan looked at that face and lowered his gun.
"I didn't expect you to come in person, Count Almagro... no, Felipe the 'Butcher.'"
"It's been a while."
Felipe looked down at Ivan quietly with his aged, haggard face.
"You were heading to the Papal State."
"As you can see."
"To kill the Pope?"
"Not at the moment."
After looking at Ivan, Felipe turned his gaze to scan the knights standing beside him, then smiled faintly and said:
"I thought the name sounded familiar, but it's such a common name in Krasilov that I figured it might be a coincidence. Your face has changed too much as well."
"Much time has passed."
"I heard you were dead."
"I was."
Ivan looked at Felipe while gripping his axe. Seeing this, Felipe took a moment to catch his breath and stepped back.
"We're retreating."
"What? But, Your Excellency!!"
"I cannot allow losses before the decisive battle. This is an order I'm giving as commander."
"Your Excellency, the order from His Majesty—"
"If you wish to follow it so badly, go alone. I won't stop you."
Felipe turned his horse and said to Ivan:
"Little Ivan. I pay tribute to your achievements. You've returned alive from the worst battlefield a human could experience."
Clop, clop. The horse gradually moved away. Count Felipe spoke softly as he departed:
"Leonor will not oppose you today. But Lorensia will pursue you. If you emerge alive again after that... if I meet you again. It won't be the same as today."
"I look forward to it."
Ivan watched the departing count and put his gun back in his possession. The knights who had been watching him gritted their teeth and ran toward their lord.
He turned his gaze again. The Lorensian legion lined up on the opposite horizon was visible.
In any case, what needed to be done hadn't changed. Ivan began walking toward the Lorensian camp.