Ivan stood in the middle of the battlefield, watching as the retreating demon hordes disappeared over the horizon. The first light of dawn was breaking, casting a warm glow over the war-torn camp that was now slowly coming back to life.
The war was over. Perhaps the final war against the demon race.
"Retreat signal? Don't talk nonsense!! If we retreat in this situation, we're all asking to die! The front line is collapsing!" a commander had shouted earlier.
"B-but, my lord! These are His Majesty's orders!"
"There's no way His Majesty would give such an order...!"
Pavel had mounted his horse while shouting at the messenger who had rushed from headquarters. His spear was stained with the bodily fluids of monsters that had emerged from behind the artillery unit.
The battle situation was beyond terrible. As a field commander, he knew the reality was even worse than it appeared.
Without artillery support, the front line had engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the demon race. The simple palisades were long breached, and slaughter was surely taking place at the front.
The cavalry's movements were sluggish due to the darkness. Though the knights of Tilles were striking the enemy's flanks with impressive flanking maneuvers, it was like trying to empty the sea with a bucket.
And in the rear, the struggle against monsters erupting from the ground continued. About half of the artillery unit had died in the initial surprise attack.
In this situation, they wanted to withdraw the soldiers? Just the troops from the Southern Six Nations?
Pavel gritted his teeth as he spurred his horse. Taking advantage of the chaos, seeing defeat was imminent, they intended to withdraw their forces and retreat. Even forging the Queen's orders to do so!
What a shortsighted choice. If they fled now, could the scattered forces of each country possibly stop the demon race?
Krasilov had to be the final line of defense. Even if this country fell, humanity would be finished if they couldn't stop the enemy here!
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!!" Pavel leaped off his horse and rushed toward the command tent. When he opened the tent, only Elizabeta and her guards were present—the other monarchs were nowhere to be seen.
"Have they all... all fled?" he asked.
Elizabeta looked at Pavel's face and then turned away. Her attendants and officers were fitting her with armor and checking her weapons.
"Your Majesty, this cannot be! The courage of a commander and the courage of a soldier are different! A commander personally charging the front line may be romantic, but it cannot be considered wise!"
"Pavel, I sent them all away."
"...Pardon?"
"I could hardly ask them to be buried with me in this campaign, could I? Each force will regroup at Pritzenkaya, and I will hold the enemy back here for even just one day."
"But, but Your Majesty...! What remains of Krasilov without you...?"
If she died, this country would end. Even if they won the war, there would be no future for this nation. The royal bloodline would be cut off, and the nobles of each territory would seek patronage from different royal families.
This country was maintained solely by the authority of the monarch. It had neither great resources nor impressive productivity... It was sustained only by its powerful military and the absolute loyalty they gave to their sovereign.
Without Elizabeta, what would remain even if they successfully defended at Pritzenkaya?
Elizabeta coldly answered Pavel, who was biting his lip.
"The people."
"Your Majesty...."
"The people remain. My people. The countless people who have labored with sweat to allow me to eat well and sleep comfortably. If this country falls but that is not our end, wouldn't that be good?"
"Your Majesty, this cannot be."
"No one can argue impossibility with the ruler of Krasilov, Royal Guard Captain. In return for the people keeping me alive all this time, I now say I will save the people. So, tell me what you must."
Elizabeta's final equipment check was complete. She continued speaking to Pavel, who looked like he might cry.
"Will you die with me, or will you leave to find a new monarch?"
"...You said you would buy time from the Seven Dragon General, Your Majesty?"
"That is correct."
"Then you'll need me. Your Majesty. It's something I've done before."
Pavel clenched his fists several times to suppress his anger. Soon he raised his head to look at Elizabeta.
"My Queen, I have no intention of serving a monarch who dies before me twice."
"In that case, you'll need to be faster than me."
"...I will follow your orders."
Elizabeta smiled faintly, patted his shoulder, and left the tent. Below her eyes lay the military camp in chaos due to the large-scale retreat of allied forces.
Demons pressing in from all sides, monsters attacking from the rear, and confusion arising from the collision between retreating forces and those trying to advance.
She walked through it all. There was no more time to spend on command. As she walked, her suicide squad marched in step behind her.
In the pitch-black darkness, a tsunami of red eyes floated across the vast plain, illuminated only by occasional bombardment spells and artillery fire.
Everything lurking before them desired their death. Predators were charging toward them. And far away, still barely visible in the distance...
A golden giant stood, smiling at them.
The knights here were rushing toward a god. Cutting down the minions of an evil deity and charging forward, they spurred their horses on despite knowing they would not return.
The horses slowly picked up speed. The longsword gripped tightly in Elizabeta's hand trembled. The camp opened up, and between soldiers hastily moving aside, demons came rushing—
They charged through the gap, cutting, striking, trampling, and crushing the demons as they advanced. A group of cavalry followed her.
"Don't stop—!!" Elizabeta shouted as she cut off the head of a leaping Taurus.
"Don't stop!! Run to the last man!! Run toward death!! You men of Krasilov, don't stop to die!!"
"For Elizabeta!!"
"For Krasilov!!!"
Each person was a superhuman who should have been commanding and comforting infantry at the front line. They were all top-level military commanders.
It was the most luxurious force composition this country with its shortage of superhumans could offer. The lowest rank among them was a major who should have been commanding a company. Next to them was an artillery battalion commander, in front of him was the 2nd Corps Commander, and in front of him... the Queen was charging.
Straight toward the golden giant—
And then, a miracle happened.
What was happening could only be described as a miracle.
The golden giant slowly collapsed, and the overwhelming presence that had been pressing down on everything visibly dissipated.
The stars that had lost their light once again adorned the night sky, and they could clearly feel the hot breath of the excited demons growing cold against their skin.
The sound of the giant falling to its knees echoed. Elizabeta looked at him with trembling eyes. Now halfway, they were running at about the midpoint between the allied forces' defensive line and the Seven Dragon General.
More than half of the riders who had charged together had died getting this far. The remaining ones were visibly exhausted, and by the time they reached the Seven Dragon General, probably not even a handful would remain.
Or so she thought.
Now, a god was kissing the earth.
"The Seven Dragon General..." Pavel, who was riding close beside her, muttered. The blade of his spear had disappeared at some point. He was skillfully slaughtering demons with the broken shaft as he ran.
Like a final sigh, sticky magical energy spread widely across the ground.
And then, the fresh early autumn breeze of Krasilov swept in.
She could see fear rising in the eyes of all the demons glaring at them. They instinctively understood. The legion maintained by the logic of power was falling into panic with the loss of that power.
"The Seven Dragon General... is dead!!" Pavel shouted. The riders following him let out wild cries. Shouts filled with joy, hope, and amazement followed.
The aggressiveness of the demons greatly diminished, and those seized by fear hesitated, retreated, or began running somewhere following their fleeing kin.
Slowly, the pressure of the forces closing in on them faded.
Suddenly, the form of the Seven Dragon General was right before them.
And Elizabeta faced a miracle.
"How... how are you here...?"
On the day Ivan was dispatched to Droan, when the Pritzenkaya raid was being concluded, Elizabeta had to immediately head north to defend the Great Gate.
And since then, she had been continuously retreating, barely making it to this position. In other words, if Ivan had fought in Droan or at least carried out operations that he should have gone to personally... it would have been physically impossible for him to be here.
So Elizabeta's grand strategy had to be simple. To conduct delaying actions until Ivan arrived, until forces capable of killing the Seven Dragon General arrived.
In that situation, Elizabeta was facing a "physically impossible" miracle right before her eyes.
A man worn with fatigue was looking up at her.
"I came on foot, diligently."
"Eck."
"Uncle, no...."
"Wow, brother, even I can't...."
One by one, the Hero Party, bearing various injuries, raised their heads near the corpse of the Seven Dragon General.
Elizabeta blankly looked down at Ivan, pondered his words for a moment, and then found herself smiling despite herself.
"You walked?"
"Diligently."
"Yes, diligently. Hearing that, I can finally believe it's really you."
Elizabeta leaped down from her horse. Her strength gave out, and she stumbled momentarily. She pushed away Pavel's chest as he hurriedly approached and collapsed.
Ivan timely approached and wrapped his arm around her waist. Elizabeta glanced once at Pavel's surprised expression and then demurely buried her head against Ivan's chest.
"You walked diligently."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"For what purpose?"
Her eyes looked up at Ivan. Bright blue eyes, moist and still sparkling despite the long fatigue, were visible.
And beyond them, Ivan heard a faint noise that was barely perceptible even to his cognitive abilities. As Ivan's gaze quickly swept in that direction, he could see Pavel mouthing words.
It was a swift detection that reached the Domain of the Transcendent. Even before Elizabeta finished her last words, Ivan could read what Pavel was mouthing through lip-reading.
"For you."
After frantically moving his lips, Pavel heard Ivan's words and smiled contentedly. The group behind Ivan stirred.
"Uncle... saying such things...?"
"It's a curse... this... this is the Seven Dragon General's curse...!"
"Evidence that brother has a warm heart...."
"Can I win against the Queen? The odds are fifty-fifty... yes, always fifty-fifty."
Ignoring the mutterings of the losers behind her, Elizabeta raised her hand to Ivan's thin cheek and smiled.
"Correct answer, Vanka. You've grown."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Then may I expect your next words?"
Ivan quickly looked at Pavel. Next words? Pavel, with a worried face, pondered and then slowly shook his head.
Not a helpful person. In fact, he probably wasn't very helpful ten years ago either.
Elizabeta, observing Ivan's expression, chuckled and wrapped her arm around the back of his neck.
"At this point, you should kiss me. You still have a long way to go, Vanka."
"That's not a word—"
Ivan couldn't finish his sentence. After sharing each other's breath for a moment, Elizabeta playfully bit Ivan's lower lip firmly and then pulled away.
Hot breath brushed against Ivan's nose. Elizabeta spoke with a playful smile.
"Isn't it better than a thousand words, Vanka?"
"Yes... Your Majesty."
"Ah, by the way. Have you thought about names for the child?"
"Hmm."
Of course he had thought about it. Ivan nodded confidently. Even while rushing through the Droan front, he had been pondering the child's name in the back of his mind.
At Ivan's response, Elizabeta's eyes lit up as if she had heard something unexpected, and she asked with an expectant expression.
"What is it?"
"If it's a son, I'll name him Ivan."
"...Won't it be a problem if the great-grandfather, father, and son all have exactly the same name?"
"There can be no better name."
At his assertion that left no room for compromise, Elizabeta thought for a moment and then nodded. Yes, it was a meaningful name.
The previous king had tripled this country's territory and was a hero who endured the Great War, saving countless lives.
And the "other" Ivan was a hero who had slain three Seven Dragon Generals while alive and saved this country from countless crises.
Elizabeta smiled and pressed further.
"Then what if it's a daughter?"
Elizabeta II? That wouldn't be bad either. Naming after a loved one is quite romantic....
"Raella."
"...Raella?"
"Raella Ivanova Krasilov."
"Raella.... That, surely not. No. It can't be, right, Vanka? You must say it isn't."
Ivan nodded firmly with a stern face and said:
"It's the name of the most excellent woman I've ever seen."
"What kind of madman names his daughter after a former lover... Urgh...!!"
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!! Pull yourself together!!"
"You monster! Release Her Majesty!!"
The guards rushed forward and escorted the unconscious Elizabeta away. Ivan raised his head with a relieved heart.
The demons were scattering beyond the horizon. He could see dawn breaking in the distance. Vitality was returning to the camp that had been on the verge of defeat.
The war was over. Perhaps the final war against the demon race.