# EP47. Prayer Toward the Sunrise
Elizabeta surveyed the soldiers forming a defensive formation from her elevated platform. The troops' morale was indescribably low.
They knew they might not live beyond today. In the face of certain death, soldiers become terrified like any ordinary human.
From the beginning, the Seven Dragon Generals were beings humans should never face. They were gods of their race. There was little a mere mortal could do on a battlefield where gods walked the earth.
Moreover, the forces gathered here weren't even the full strength of the 2nd Corps.
'The 2nd Corps without its artillery division.'
The 2nd Corps artillery was currently establishing defensive lines in the rear. These soldiers' role was to buy time until those defenses were complete, and like any breakwater before a tsunami, they would inevitably be swept away.
The 2nd Corps consisted primarily of artillery units, with the remainder being defensive forces to support artillery fire. So, excluding artillery, they had only about 5,000 infantry in total, and their cavalry forces were limited to light cavalry used mainly for maintaining communication lines.
This meant that with merely 300 light cavalry and approximately 5,000 infantry, they needed to hold back the main demon army and the Seven Dragon Generals for at least two days.
"We'll need a miracle."
Elizabeta laughed self-deprecatingly. Though she had never lived a particularly devout life, at this moment, she had no choice but to lean on religion.
The Borodin Plains formed a basin, with vast forests stretching beyond it to the horizon. In the dim pre-dawn light, she gazed at the brightening east and quickly made the sign of the cross.
A monarch has no right to despair.
She quickly composed herself. At her signal, a mage cast a voice amplification spell on her.
As the soldiers murmured among themselves, she stood on the platform and stepped forward.
"Are you afraid? Sons of Krasilov, are you afraid?"
The soldiers' eyes turned toward her. Some disrespectfully spat on the ground, while others turned pale with fear.
It couldn't be helped. She had practically forced them to assemble to prevent desertion. Agents from the counterintelligence headquarters had stayed up all night preventing desertion attempts, and the surveillance over these men was as harsh as that used for peasant conscripts.
Under such circumstances, she couldn't expect the same loyalty as before. Especially when their hometowns might be isolated and crumbling at this very moment.
"Are you afraid of the demons' offensive? Are you afraid of the approaching death? Is your life so precious to you?"
-....
The soldiers' expressions grew ominous at her words. The ceremonial guard gripped his weapon, prepared for a riot, and stayed close to the queen.
But Elizabeta pushed aside the guard who tried to shield her with his shield and said:
"Your hometowns are burning, your lives are like candles in the wind. This country's future is as dark as can be, and there is no hope of victory here today!!"
"Y-Your Majesty!!"
The ceremonial guard tried to stop Elizabeta in dismay. But she knocked his legs out from under him, forcing him to kneel, and instead took another step toward the soldiers.
"Today! None of us may see tomorrow. Today!! None of us may return alive! But, today!! Krasilov will not fall today, your hometowns will not burn today, and your families will not die as long as you draw breath!"
Elizabeta's shouts continued.
"The enemies will gather. The blasphemer they worship as a god will arrive on this land! Your death is certain, and defeat on this front is inevitable!! But, but sons of Krasilov. For every moment you remain alive, for every second, every minute, every hour you endure! During that time, Krasilov will not be violated by the enemy!!"
Because they will surely target me first.
Elizabeta looked around at the soldiers with blazing eyes. Soldiers who met her gaze involuntarily stepped back.
"Endure!! Your families will live as long as you endure! Endure! If even one of you survives to continue the fight, Krasilov will never fall today!! The end of this battle is death, and the process is also death, but that time will prove the life of you and this country!!"
The soldiers' fear slowly diluted. It was a battle they could only die in. But every moment they fought alive would be time to protect their families.
Death was still frightening. Certain death inevitably brings terror. But isn't the sight of hometown ruins strewn with family corpses even more frightening?
Not everyone had become an elite soldier who could overcome the fear of death at this moment. One couldn't expect that level of mental fortitude from each individual soldier.
However, even so.
"Sons of Krasilov. Finest men of this nation. Your king promises. Your king will never die after you! Give your lives for this country, for your hometowns, families, and neighbors!! In return, I will gladly offer my own life!! Stand against death!!"
-Stand against death!!
Some soldiers shouted involuntarily. Elizabeta scanned them and shouted again.
"Stand against death!!"
-Stand against death!!!
Now, more than half the soldiers were pounding their weapons on the ground and shouting. They cried out with tears—tears mixed with fear and exhilaration.
"Stand against death!!! Take up your weapons! Look at the enemy!! Sons of Krasilov!! If even one of you lives to fight, Krasilov will not fall today!! Fight, do not submit to death!! Stand against death!!!"
-Krasilov! Krasilov!! Krasilov!!!
-Stand against death!!!
All the soldiers shouted at the top of their lungs. With bloodshot eyes, strained voices, and veins bulging in their arms, they pounded the ground and stomped their feet as they yelled.
The land trembled. The forests beyond the horizon shook with the men's shouts.
Death was still frightening. An inevitable disaster must always be terrifying. But now, no man would give up and flee.
Elizabeta stepped back, feeling the voice amplification spell fade. The ceremonial guard approached and draped a coat over her shoulders.
"Give me my weapon."
Taking the familiar longsword from the guard's hand, she turned her head toward the horizon. Then, in a voice too quiet for others to hear, she whispered:
"The dwarves?"
"They say they'll begin as soon as you give the signal."
"Good. Two days, we just need to hold for two days."
She muttered as if reassuring herself. A battle that would need a miracle to last even one day—somehow, if they could just hold this position for two days, that would be enough.
She doesn't fight battles that are clearly lost. An excellent field commander, while ordering soldiers to their deaths, also prepares minimal measures to save soldiers and retreat.
That's why she chose this location carefully. The basin-shaped terrain would naturally allow enemies to occupy the high ground, the battle situation would inevitably turn unfavorable, and it was a terrain where they could easily be surrounded.
As if anyone could see it was a suicide mission meant to buy time.
But a basin also means being closer to deep underground than any other terrain.
'We'll stall for two days and retreat. If the defensive line construction is completed by then, the real battle will begin.'
She had already issued conscription orders to the southern lords. If they departed upon receiving the orders, troop reinforcements should be complete near the defensive line by then.
Just two days—if they could stall for just two days and retreat through the underground tunnels, then victory would be hers. Yes, gambling with lives in this position would be enough with just two days.
Because if she didn't risk her life, the demons and the Seven Dragon Generals wouldn't personally engage.
This was the tactic squeezed out of slim odds. In a situation with seemingly no possibility, this was the weak's deception, prepared as a gamble.
A good commander typically devotes more time to marching, supplies, and terrain selection than to battle itself. She had done so. She hadn't prepared for battle. For her, war was an extension of conspiracy.
The Annihilation Squad's supreme commander, Elizabeta Kirillovna Krasilov, always waged war this way. Deceiving both allies and enemies while hiding daggers.
Now all that remained was for the deceived soldiers to sacrifice their lives to buy two days of time.
If there was one difference between her and other conspirators, it was this: among the life chips placed on this game board, she would also wager her own.
The arrogance of a monarch who commands subjects to risk their lives comes with the obligation to place one's own life as the same stake.
This is the burden carried by Krasilov's royal family. Elizabeta would never abandon her duty.
The forest trembled. Birds took flight, soaring into the sky. From the east, west, and north.
Above all forests, flying creatures swarmed like clouds in frenzied flight. Terror-stricken small creatures ran wildly. Forest animals held their breath, burying themselves deep in caves, waiting for the tsunami to pass.
Death walked. A god who had lost divinity trod the earth. Squelch, squelch. The god's steps were heavy and sticky.
Gold flowed like a river, gathering again and merging into one. As the morning sun cast long rays through the forest, the self-rising gold burned and shone as brilliantly as the sun, as if challenging it.
A giant walked. Beneath it, the forest trembled. Literally, all forests within sight.
The demons who had crossed the Great Gate, moved south, and then scattered to trample the entire country were now gathering.
Under the god's command, all kinds of tribes walked, each gripping weapons.
-Buuuuuuuu—!!
The god's eyes saw the human encampment. A human on sentry duty atop a makeshift watchtower blew a horn hastily with a panic-stricken face.
Commotion followed. The camp shook precariously, like a frightened beast gasping for breath. And among them, the god found one human.
A silver-haired woman, she was drawing her sword and glaring at him. Their gazes met. Despite the vast distance, both could feel their eyes locking.
[Not bad.]
The god's voice pierced through the distance. The woman's complexion was pale, but she stared back at the god without wavering.
[Your insignificant resistance will make for quite an enjoyable entertainment. But you. Human monarch. You shall not die easily. Only after your people's last breath is cut off and their final screams end will I grant you death.]
The god's voice boomed across the sky. Humans trembled, turning pale blue just from its presence.
And the monarch who directly met that gaze, steadying her trembling body by planting her sword in the ground—
Laughing, she shouted.
"You talk too much."
She pulled her sword from where it was thrust upside down into the platform and pointed it at the god.
"Try it. Krasilov will become the grave of false myths. As it has been throughout the ages."