"Leonidas, after a few drinks, reminds me a lot of a certain noble I once heard about back home," Castorice said.
She sat perched on a chair, while beside her, Ana nibbled on cake like a chipmunk hoarding winter stores.
In her hand, Castorice held a mug of ale, her cheeks lightly flushed—but not drunk, not by a long shot.
"The noble from your memories? Tell us more," Merlin urged from nearby, eyes alight.
He'd always been curious about Castorice—the girl from another world, after all. A place unlike anything this world had ever known.
"I never met her myself," Castorice began, her voice soft yet steady, "but I've heard her legend often enough."
"She was a general of mythic renown—spent her life waging war across the stars, hunting down abominations. One of the Seven Arbiter Generals who served beneath the Divine Bow… the Vanquishing General, they called her."
"Abominations?" Ana perked up, crumbs tumbling from her lips.
"Yes," Castorice nodded. "The Abominations of Abundance—creatures blessed by the gods with a twisted kind of immortality."
"They spread like cosmic cancer, breeding without end, grazing the heavens like pastures of stars…"
As she spoke, a twinge of regret tugged at her chest. If only she'd transformed into Feixiao this time—things would've been simpler.
Strip the mind down to instinct, let muscle do the thinking, and charge straight through the enemy lines until nothing but silence remained.
The others listened, rapt.
Who wouldn't be drawn to the image of a world so vast, where entire planets served as stages for war and wonder?
Though, when Castorice mentioned the Vanquishing General's drinking habits were even worse than Leonidas', the room nearly burst into laughter.
Was it really that common for mighty warriors to be terrible with alcohol?
After a satisfying meal, Siduri led Castorice to her assigned quarters.
The room was simple, yes—but spotless, tidy, and warm. For these times, that was more than enough. Better this than sleeping under the open sky, where even a moment's rest felt like a gamble.
Out in the wilds, beasts rarely dared approach her—her very presence deterred most. But some predators were far worse than mere monsters. And this world's greatest threats wore no scales or fangs.
The night passed quietly.
On her second day in Uruk, Gilgamesh gave her no orders. With battle not yet upon them, Castorice allowed herself—just for once—to wander the city, sampling its sights and sounds, breathing in the pulse of everyday life.
But peace never lasted long with her. Restlessness crept in, and before long, she found herself at the North Wall, fighting alongside Leonidas to thin the tide of monsters.
With Castorice on the field, Uruk's burden lightened overnight.
Her power was nothing short of miraculous in battle.
She didn't even need to swing her weapon—just a flick of her wrist, a sprinkle of water from the River of Souls, and entire waves of beasts collapsed, life snuffed out in an instant.
"Truly incredible," Ushiwakamaru murmured, watching another sea of monsters crumple before Castorice's will.
"Thanks to you, Miss Castorice, the front lines have calmed. Even the soldiers' spirits have lifted."
Cheers rippled through the ranks behind her.
"I'm only doing what I can," Castorice replied softly. "Even if this world's fate is already sealed… I still want to delay the end. Just a little longer. Long enough for people to say goodbye."
"You're… very kind," Ushiwakamaru said after a pause, her voice sincere.
Flustered by the blunt praise—Castorice never had been good with compliments, not even before she'd become… this—she quickly turned away.
"...That's enough here. Time to head back."
Back in the city, she didn't rest. Instead, she made her way to the infirmary.
There, she reclaimed a role she'd once abandoned.
Whenever a soldier's wounds were beyond healing—beyond even the gods' mercy—they sent for Castorice. And she would grant them a quiet, painless end.
Truth be told, holding a life as it slipped away never got easier. Not after a hundred times. Not after a thousand.
In fact… if one ever grew used to death—if reverence for it faded—that would be the truly terrifying thing.
Her presence had already begun to shift the tide. Even the monsters' assaults slowed, as if hesitating before her.
But the enemy wasn't idle.
Castorice's growing impact hadn't gone unnoticed. Among the ranks of the beasts, her name had stirred the attention of their commanders—and with it, a plan to eliminate her.
They struck all at once: a dozen Basmu draconians, the serpentine Ushumgall, the seven-headed Mushmaff, and the colossal lion—all elite horrors deployed in concert. Their purpose? To pin down Ushiwakamaru and Leonidas, to keep them from reaching her.
And then, from the sky above the battlefield, descended a figure.
Unlike the others, this one bore a humanoid shape—but only just. His head was a scaled-down replica of a Bašmu's, his body more dragon than man, standing upright with sinew coiled like steel cables. A tail, thick as rebar, swung lazily behind him—a weapon capable of cleaving iron in two.
This was Bašmu—the Dragon-Man, one of Tiamat's eleven children, the original from whom all Basmu were spawned, and now one of the foremost warlords leading the assault on Uruk.
His very existence ensured an endless tide of Basmu clones.
He was, without question, a cornerstone of the enemy's forces.
This wasn't the first time such a foe had appeared.
Once before, a beast-general—a scorpion-man named Kitabriel the Sage—had emerged from nowhere to declare his love for Tomoe Gozen. In the end, they perished together.
That clash had sounded an alarm: if a single beast-general could trade blows evenly with a Heroic Spirit… then the odds were grimmer than they'd feared.
Now, a second had arrived.
And he stood before Castorice.
His intent was unmistakable: to erase her from the battlefield before she unraveled their war entirely.
"Castorice, fall back—now!" Ushiwakamaru shouted, eyes darkening as she took in the ring of monsters tightening around her and Leonidas.
It was obvious—the enemy had used these high-tier beasts to trap them, buying time for Bašmu to strike. And Castorice knew it too.
Yet she didn't retreat.
Instead, black waters coiled around her fingers, gathering into the familiar curve of her scythe.
He came to kill her.
But she had no intention of letting him leave alive.
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
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If you guys wanna check it out.