You have to pay a huge price to save him.

Yes, I know. Alessio Cortez of Crimson Fist thought.

Of course he knew—every Astarte who made it to the Team Fortress and set foot on Terra knew what they were up against, and that's what they came for.

Eleven years ago, they set off from their home planet, Ryan. A total of 600 men, with the greatest amount of support and supplies that the warband leader, Pedro Canto, could give.

With a bit of luck and the sacrifice of navigator Elle Kepe, they made it to the edge of the solar system, fighting a total of forty-two wars along the way, liberating five worlds that were being invaded by Chaos.

They managed to ascend to the fortress established by the Mother Regiment and met Vaughan Hagen, the commander of the War Regiment at the time. After receiving supplies, they boarded Terra with six hundred Black Sanctulars, four hundred Liens, five hundred executioners, and five hundred elite mothers.

For each warband, giving such support troops is completely equivalent to breaking the bones. After all, according to the definition given by Machado the Palm Seal, anyone who has boarded a Terra and stayed for more than twenty-five Terra can be considered a sacrifice.

The truth of this has been proven over the past 10,000 years, but this tradition has been maintained in the dim galaxy for 10,000 years without interruption.

Sometimes, some warbands will be caught up in the war they are waging, but they will surely double their forces and send them to Terra when the next twenty-five years come. When they receive a call, they will answer, as they always have.

But why? Why do you have to do something that is not proportional to the reward?

The answer is simple.

Because the war that took place on Terra never really ended.

In order to win it, the Empire of Humanity can do whatever it takes, even to build countless fortresses along the sixty-five fragments of Shattered Terra, until they turn every planet in the solar system into a fortress, and then fill the gaps with untold manpower and material resources.

If you gaze towards Terra from the edge of the solar system, you will see floating walls built by human hands. It is the ultimate miracle of the world, the ultimate dream of every pilgrim.

Terra was shattered, but she was never really destroyed. The torch dimmed, but never really went out.

Over the course of 10,000 years, countless people have climbed to Terra and died in peace. Countless others evacuated before the arrival of the twenty-fifth Terra, and after a short rest, they returned to a few of the pieces to continue their work.

Continue to light the torch, continue to rescue artifacts, and continue to excavate the remains of heroes.

From the fragments of the home planet, humanity once again stood up, never giving in, never giving in.

That's why Alessio Cortés is here.

He will fight alongside the heroes of 10,000 years ago, and he will face the ghosts that have roamed the darkness of the galaxy for 10,000 years, and he will save Rog Dorn as he saved them from the darkest of futures.

He'll be—

- "Get out of the way." ”

A voice said coldly, and then a flash of golden light flashed, and the demon who had fought with him for a long time was defeated and retreated.

A golden spear rained down on the demon's body, piercing its skull, body, and eyes. Chop off its horns, jaws, and arms. Then it passed through the chest and nailed it firmly to the ground.

The blood-red cloak flashed quickly between the rolls, and a tall figure with a steaming body and blood on the lines of his armor strode past him, and drew his spear, not a drop of blood on the tip of the spear.

"You're a company commander?" The man asked.

Alessio replied in a broken voice: "I will temporarily succeed the commander of the fourth company. ”

"Recruits?"

"Third year of service."

"Give orders, company commander, and gather your brothers." The man said, and strode forward to meet the hideous guardians of the defiled blood god.

Alessio shielded him with the Startup Blaster and immediately used the Psionic Communication Device built into the helmet to contact the Crimson Fists who were still alive.

Once on Terra, it is absolutely impossible to use any normal communication devices, and only this modified modification allows for solid communication between military forces, but not too far away.

With that done, Alessio hung his gun back on the magnetic hook of the belt around his waist and strode forward.

In his right hand, he holds a Seiko power sword called Never Forgive. It is the inheritance of each generation of the Crimson Fist of the Four Company Commanders, it is derived from the original wargroup leader Shen of the Midnight Blade Clan Shadow Knight, and is a testament to the friendship between the two warbands in the early days of their establishment.

They maintained a friendly relationship for the next 10,000 years, and this is still the case today. The sword has slain countless demons and traitors, but it is still as sharp as ever.

Alessio approached the golden-armored warrior with his sword raised, he had already guessed the man's identity, but he wouldn't ask if the latter didn't take the initiative to speak.

The man apparently noticed his coming, and then, after a simple and direct swing, he spun around in the pouring of blood and spun his feet closer to Alessio, forming a back-to-back with him in the blink of an eye.

"You're a little reckless, Your Excellency Company Commander." He said, with a hint of warning in his voice. "I'm Konstantin Waldo."

"Alessio Cortez." Crimson Fist spits out his own name and begins to slash enemies.

He doesn't have much skill with his power sword, he just swings it, but 'never forgive' has its own terrible features. Its extreme sharpness allowed any demon that tried to break through the path of the sword to be slaughtered.

"I see." Konstantin Waldo said. "But which legion are you from?"

Alessio didn't answer, a little annoyed - because the question couldn't be answered, and he didn't want to lose his manners in front of a janitor. However, this is only part of the reason, and the other part is due to the great skill of Konstantin Valdo.

In his perception, the Praetorian Army's breath did not tremble as he spoke, as if this battle was nothing to him.

Is it true that as those rumors say, the Forbidden Army alone is better than ten of us? Alessio was not to be reconciled.

No. Never.

He began to swing his sword with double strength, and the sword itself seemed to sense his emotions and responded to him without hesitation. The humming intensified, and an eerie murmur began to reverberate in the nearby air.

Alessio was shocked—he realized what was going on, but he didn't have time to worry about it for the time being, so he just swung his sword.

The severed arm flew high, but Alessio's hands began to grow colder. The murmur began to intensify, and 'Unforgive' sensed his determination and responded.

It is a sacred weapon, but there is a price to be paid for using it. Each generation of sword-wielding and recognized four company commanders will die in battle one day, and thinking of this, Alessio can't help but think of the figure of the former company commander in front of his eyes.

And what about mine? He thought. Will it be today?

The answer was revealed twenty-five minutes later – no.

Alessio regrets this, but his death is not today.

After confirming that the last demon was also dead, he turned off the decomposition field and put his sword into its sheath.

The Forbidden Army strode towards him, a calmness and a gesture of course that surpassed all else, made Alessio feel a pang of discomfort, followed by a sense of honor—that's what he's here for, isn't it?

Fight alongside the heroes of 10,000 years ago

Then, the hero of 10,000 years ago, who had earned his respect, almost fell flat on the ground as soon as he spoke.

"Are you the heirs of Dorne?"

"We ——!" Alessio replied in a loud voice, but his voice was very strange. "—yes, but no!"

"I don't think there's a second option for this answer." Konstantin Waldo said. "So what the hell are you guys?"

Alessio struggled to remain silent for half a minute before answering his question: "I can't say. ”

Valdo nodded his head, then pointed to a blood-stained banner, the red fist covered in blood, and it looked as if it was bleeding down.

"And what about your names?" He asked again. "This is also classified?"

"We can't say either." Alessio replied sourly. "I beg your understanding, this is an iron law."

Valdo nodded: "I understand. ”

Such an easy understanding made Alessio stunned for a moment, he had expected to hear a little dissatisfaction. Obviously, he had never seen the Forbidden Army before, otherwise he would never have developed such an overly human perception of them.

Valdo observed his reaction, made the above summary, and informed his lord in the link. Only after receiving permission from the message did he continue to ask questions.

"So, by whom did you send to support us?"

“.”

"Okay, then, where are you from?"

“.”

"Is Makado the Palm Seal still alive?"

Alessio took a deep breath—and finally came up with a question he could answer—and he replied, "Alive." ”

"I see." Waldo nodded. "So, you're a support force with no distinctive warcry, no name, no way out."

"In the battle just now, I didn't hear you shout a single battle cry other than 'For the Emperor' or 'For Terra'. There are no recognizable names on your banners, and there is nothing on your armor except the Aquila and this red fist. ”

"That is, you are an army that does not seek honor or anything in return. Considering you're here, can I assume that your tactical or strategic aim is to find the progenitor Roger Dorn? ”

"I-"

"—think about it before answering me, Company Commander Alessio."

Waldo interrupted him, then solemnly raised his spear.

A ray of golden light shone out through his hand, and in just half a second, it swelled into a round of sun that disappeared in an instant. It existed only for a moment, but everyone saw it and heard the echo from nowhere.

+ Say, I allow. +

Alessio Cortés suppressed his tremors and kept his calm with all his strength.

He replied smoothly, smoothly, smoothly, "Yes, we're going to find Roger Dorne." ”

"Very well, follow me."

There are three more chapters, and if I can't finish it before twelve o'clock, I'll go straight to bed, and so on.

(End of chapter)