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Compared to the noble guards who defended big cities, it was naturally more difficult to guard in remote border areas. At the end of the 7th month, the Faran invaders came after the soldiers who guarded at southern frontier of Titan endured the annoying rainy season.

The soldiers guarding the frontier area did not sleep well since the battle arrangements were delivered from the base camp of the Fifth Region. They hurried to the rear to replenish their supplies and occupied themselves with their respective defensive work. Although, to be frank, the soldiers knew clearly that the wooden wall and stone fortress in their station could not withstand a massive catapult.

In spite of this, the soldiers did not complain. They trained intensely as usual and patrolled on various frontier roads as well as open areas. Besides, they assisted native residents to move to the rear and helped the local taxation departments and government organizations transfer their staffs.

A month passed by quickly in the midst of chaos. The number of invaders on the other side of the border increased gradually, and they were getting closer to the land of Titan. Sometimes, the soldiers could spot the flames of Faran camp across a grove. Countless clouds of smoke curled up in the great plains of the south, and the sight of this would send shivers down the spines of Titan soldiers. However, they were soldiers. After cursing several times at the enemies, the soldiers bit their lips and returned to their respective posts.

Silburt Village was located on the central axis of the southernmost border of the Burton Province. The village should have been a large market town, or more accurately, it used to be one. Using defensive needs as an excuse, the Imperial Guards demolished half of the village and transferred half of the villagers. Those who had lived in this area for a long time was naturally left dissatisfied. Even after decades, the old people in the village could not help but reproach whenever the army passed by their village.

In the early morning of the 23rd day of 7th month, Silburt and the small river at the village entrance simultaneously became lively. The golden sun spread over the valley between the river and the small village. A milking cow wandered alone, leaving its calf aside. The young calf was as curious as any other young lives were. It stood motionless, appearing to be pondering some serious matters as it gazed at the station guards that had been awake all night.

About a week ago, the villagers were in a heated discussion over one thing - the disappearance of Aunt Donna's little Ciel! To be exact, it was Staff Sergeant Ciel whose term of military service was about to come to an end. He was recently on duty at the nearby military station. Initially, the villagers believed that Donna's son was lost in the nearby mountains and that he would return one day, but… Ciel was born and raised here. During his service, even his commander would demand Ciel to lead the patrolling team.

The villagers who have always paid attention to this matter were divided into two groups. The "captive" group insisted that little Ciel must have been ambushed by evil Faran during his patrols. However, if he was willing to be at their service and be nice, the Faran would send him back once the war was over. On the other hand, another group of people thought otherwise. It was something that everyone knew well what happened, but could not allow the words to roll out of their mouths.

Ciel was not missing, nor was he been taken captive. The truth was, Ciel was already dead.

In the morning, people who from the two ends of the spectrum gathered around Aunt Donna's house for breakfast. When they were preparing to begin the day's debate, nosy little children ran over with the news that a team of soldiers took Uncle Layton's calf and left behind four silver Tis. People began to make noise, saying it was a pretty reasonable price... Not long later, the children came again to notify that there was an officer followed by a few knights that had come to the village carrying a wooden box that has been painted white.

A First Lieutenant of the Imperial Guards and four servicemen riding on horses stopped outside the fence of Aunt Donna's house, "Here we are." The First Lieutenant looked at the stunned villagers and turned to his servicemen. Two of the servicemen were carrying a white wooden crate which was way too small to be a coffin. The villagers on the side let out the breath they had been holding, "Fortunately, it is not Ciel."

"Aunt Donna!" The First Lieutenant of the Imperial Guards performed a military salute to the old woman in the yard, "We have brought Staff Sergeant Ciel back to you."

Like the old neighbors, widow Donna widened her eyes in disbelief. Her daughter-in-law struggled to support the old lady. Both the rough palms of the women that were held together trembled uncontrollably.

"Sir... What... What did you say?"

The First Lieutenant officer took off his army cap and held it in his hand. He turned around and asked the soldiers to carry that white wooden crate into the house, "That's Ciel... We... these are all we could find!"

The yard became completely silent. The farmers who had cultivated and prospered in this land for generations still could not figure out what has happened. If what the soldiers brought back was not a coffin, then what was inside should not be Ciel.

"Staff Sergeant Ciel and his squad were ambushed during the patrol. Our man managed to retrieve his body from the border only last night! Those wolves in the woods took Ciel..." The First Lieutenant swallowed hard. How could he tell the truth to these two women now that they only had each other to depend on?

Donna extended her hand slowly. The peasant woman's big hand touched her son's little coffin only the slightest bit before quickly pulling her hand back.

The First Lieutenant took a long breath, "The wolves had not left much behind, even the bones were being scattered around. We..."

"Ah!" the young daughter-in-law suddenly screamed. Then, like actors in the market performing troops, her eyes shut at once as she fell down to her knees. The villagers ran into each other as they scrambled forward. Some moved the chairs while others went to fetch some salt water… In the midst of this, someone whispered, "Is it the Faran wolves, or was it the forest ones-" An impatient elder shouted at this brainless man, "They are all wolves. What difference does it make?"

The soldiers and the only priest in the village set up a small platform on the porch of the widow house, and a literate gentleman wrote Ciel's name in a copybook placed on the platform. People hustled as they squeeze their way through Aunt Donna's house.

"If you want to cry, then-"

"No!" Widow Donna shook her head firmly and pointed to the white wood. "You're telling me that's my son, my little Ciel? That's certainly not! That's certainly not!"

There was nothing else the Lieutenant could do, hence he ordered the priest to commence.

The white wooden crate was placed on the table under the platform. The soldiers kept vigil next to the coffin, and the priest chanted prayers for the mass. The two groups in the village, who initially had different ideas, had finally reached a consensus. The young men glared at the border outside the door; the old men bowed their heads and whispered words of condolences over to the dazed or perhaps crazy Donna.

Widow Donna, whose face had been expressionless, waited a while. However, she noticed the priest was not intending to stop. The strong woman, who was not afraid to offend the servant of God, rushed to the table in a few vigorous steps and pushed the priest aside.

"Sir! You have to tell me... how do you open this?"

The First Lieutenant of the Imperial Guards, who was greatly surprised, stared at the old woman in shock.

"Aunt, the crate... the crate is nailed tight. We are afraid that the contents might spill out."

The widow did not seem to understand the officer. She widened her eyes in determination and glared at the Imperial soldier. After a long time, Lieutenant had no choice but to explain again.

"Aunt, you can't open it, as it's nailed down tight! If you break -"

"I just want to see my child, I just want to see my child. Can you understand? A mother can't bear to bury her child without a last glance!" Donna could not help but burst out in tears.

The Lieutenant bit his lips in embarrassment; he did not think this was a good idea since he had already seen Ciel's remains beforehand. How should he tell her? It was definitely not easy to describe! If the mother were to witness with her own eyes that her son has been turned into fragments of bones... From a distant, there came the sound that signaled for a gathering. The First Lieutenant, who could finally escape, issued a sigh of relief. He performed a final salute to the sacrificed comrade with his servicemen then they bade farewell to the weeping woman before walking out of the yard.

Some villagers stayed in the house. The women comforted the widows as the old people began making arrangements for the funeral. The young people surrounded the soldiers. They repeatedly ask questions that had already been made clear on the public notices, "When will the Faran come?""What about the animals at home?""Will they go before the autumn harvest?""Where should we sign up for the army at this time?"

The Lieutenant answered each and every question patiently. Just as he was about to hop on his horse, Aunt Donna suddenly rushed out of the house. The officer was startled. He feared that the old woman would torture him with more questions that would make him want to jump into a river.

The widow was not shy to seize the officer's hand and pressed her palms on the palm of the military for a while. It seemed that this was the local customs for when they met the officials.

"I'm grateful for you. I apologize for my misbehavior earlier… My son has a good commander, thank you!"

Lieutenant opened his hand and found three warm, silver coins within. This should be two-months' worth of income for Ciel's family. The big man's eyes welled up and a tear rolled off his eye. He quickly wiped his face and jumped onto the horse, clasping the silver coin in his palm.

The four servicemen left quickly, but the pensive First Lieutenant turned around when he was near the exit of the village. He pointed at a swampy area nearby the village.

"Just right there - when His Highness Prince O'Neil Andrew Morisette and his guards defeated the wolves, a memorial will be erected over there! In order to commemorate the heroes who sacrificed in the Silburt forerunner battle of Titan Second Defending War! You don't have to bury your son, as Staff Sergeant Ciel will be there."

"Then... then what about you?" The widow hurried forward. She knew that this knight, who was about the same age as her little Ciel, was also a mother's son.

"Haha... I'll also be there!" The First Lieutenant kicked the horse's abdomen, and it galloped forward like a bolt of lightning.

The old woman was still chasing from behind, "What is your name? What is your name...?"

"The History of Titan's Defending War" was an authorized history book, but no one could find the name of Staff Sergeant Ciel in the record, nor could they find a list of those killed in Silburt forerunner battle of Titan Second Defending War. Perhaps there was such a thing in the military archives, who cares? According to conventions, there was a need to add on some details not covered or not elaborated in the history books.

Church's year 801, the 23rd day of the 7th month. At half past eleven in the morning, the Imperial Guards Southern Army Group Fifth Region Frontier Defense Second Group set up kitchen range near that small river outside of Silburt Village. The young calves had already been slaughtered. Pieces of tender beef were placed on a board, drenched in blood, and next to it was a large pot boiling with mushrooms.

The soldiers of the Second Group gathered around the pot of softened beef slices and began eating while chatting happily. The soldiers seemed to have no idea of the significance of the forerunner battle. The empire was sending them to die. Some people thought that this idea was no different from crazy paranoia. Take the dozen or so deserters in the Second Group, for example, they must have thought that their actions were reasonable. However, most soldiers were lunatics. They ridiculed the escaping comrades in the same way one would ridicule prostitutes, and they even suggested the Regimental Commander to report those names to their superiors. If the tax officials were interested, they could deduct the taxes on deserters as though they were selling them off in the trade of prostitution. That would guarantee those guys to behave and stay in the army!

The Regimental Commander of Frontier Defense Second Group was a short Northerner of a civilian descendant. He, who had a strong Haussen accent, spoke only about the north; the northern barley was bigger than the south, the northern beef was chewier than the south, the northern potatoes were more delicious than the south, even the northern women were prettier than the south! The soldiers asked, "Commander! Why did you come down south for these low qualities then?"

The Regimental Commander murmured in disgust, "Because you little rascals needed to be looked after."

In fact, the soldiers of the Second Group did not dislike their northern commander who hated everything about the south. They knew that they had a good officer on board. The concept they had for a good military officer was extremely simple; when confronted with the forerunner battle, there was no rejection, no flinches, no frustration, but agreed to the order without hesitation. This good military officer encouraged his soldiers, "Your southern hometown is just behind your back, while mine is miles away..."

"Commander! Why are we fighting the forerunner battle?"

The Regimental Commander was rather enraged. How could they still be skeptical about the battle that was about to break out right under their nose?

He walked to the front of this soldier, grabbed a handful of dirt, and stuffed it into the guy's mouth.

"How does it taste like?"

The soldier coughed and vomited nonstop. His regimental commander then told him, "This is the taste of mother earth! Go home and ask how your mother was pregnant with you. Then you will know why we must fight this battle."

In fact, it was a question to which not one elderly at home would know the answer, as it happened too long ago. In the internal organization of the Imperial Army, there existed two views regarding the forerunner battles. One advocated abandoning this tradition to reduce meaningless sacrifices. The other then argued that they displayed the determination and courage of the Titans in protecting the home country. They kept the enemies out of the country and they delivered a declaration of resistance by sacrifices. How then, would the sacrifices of the forerunners be meaningless?

Would anyone choose to fight a forerunner battle with the enemies who were about to intrude their house?

Obviously, people who chose to inherit this tradition would always be the majority. People were absorbed in ostentatious of the world and nostalgia for all the good things. However, when the enemy's footsteps merged into one, and their horns of invasion rang in the ear, there were always a group of people who would step forward. They would abandon their right to life and fight with the spirit of sacrifice until the last moment, all for their motherland.

"But, what does this have to do with my mother?" the soldier who spat out a mouthful of dust argued softly.

"Of course it is related!" the Regimental Commander of Second Group smiled slyly, "I heard that those guys across the street adore mature Titan women. If I told them you are a son to that woman, I believe they will willingly work together to be your second father."

The poor soldier turned his head away, disgusted at the comment. He pulled tighter his armor and the weapons in hands. It seemed that he was planning to kill several more enemies who wanted to be his father.

It was already slightly late in the afternoon. The soldiers of the Second Group picked their teeth after a few satisfying burps and sunbathed lazily in the valley behind the river. The sun was unusually warm and bright. The sunshine warmed up both the armors and the heart of the soldiers.

A few people suddenly appeared from the woodland at the opposite of the river. Several highly-skilled archers on the team immediately lifted their longbow. Fortunately! Everyone came to realize that it was the First Lieutenant officer who sent Staff Sergeant Ciel back home. The Lieutenant ran past the river with a few of his scouts. The splashes under their feet sparkled with bright colors under the reflection of sunshine. It made a good sight to look at from afar.

"Almost there! Almost there!" The First Lieutenant shouted as he hurried to his commander.

"Commander! We nearly bumped into the Farans!" First Lieutenant glanced to the opposite side of the river bank while he spoke.

"How many are they?"

The First Lieutenant scratched his head, "The enemies filled the mountains and plains. I couldn't see properly!"

The Regimental Commander nodded in silence, he knew that asking for details would only cause more trouble. He hadn't heard of anyone winning in forerunner battle with a lesser number. This was just a show arranged by the Titan, in order to demonstrate the spirit of anti-aggression by deploying the minimum forces in exchange for the enthusiasm of the entire army, the entire country, and the entire nation.

"Have the villagers been taken care of?"

"Yes, Regimental Commander!" The First Lieutenant nodded, but then he shook his head helplessly after thinking about it. "It was my fault, I shouldn't have told Staff Sergeant Ciel's mother about the monument. The old woman did not want to leave after hearing that. She said... if everyone is gone, there will be no one to look after his son's tombstone."

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