The Piece Of Hope

"Will this be enough?" Ivan muttered, sitting alone in the captain's seat, surrounded by the faint metallic echoes of the tank's interior. He shook his head, frustration weighing heavily on his mind. "I still can't believe I agreed to this plan... It's reckless, impossible, and risky. But I really have no choice."The memories of the earlier meeting in the strategy room replayed in his head,In the strategy room, Captain Macthur stood over the large, roughly drawn map of Manilia spread out on the table. The whole town is covered by circular walls spanning a 10km radius. His officers had meticulously placed military symbols across it—tiny chess-like pieces, each one representing various enemy forces. The red diamond shapes were scattered outside the town, indicating the incoming demon army: small daggers for goblins, axes for orcs, and the largest diamond bore a horrifying image of an open maw, fanged and vicious—the symbol of the Cerus.Macthur traced the lines of attack with his finger, noting the widening red marks that stretched like wounds across the map. The thicker the lines, the denser the enemy forces in that direction. His brow furrowed at the concentrated red from the northeast and northwest, and another surge from the south—Bataen's forces."Sir, for now, these are the locations of the demon army," the young officer reported, pointing to several points on the map, each representing enemy movement. His finger stopped at the northeast corner.Here, a green rectangular piece marked with a tiger symbol was placed, far from the others. "This is the Empire's army," the officer explained. "They've already engaged a Cerus in combat."Captain Macthur's eyes flickered with interest. "They must have their iron cavalry with them. That's the only reason they'd dare fight a Cerus head-on."The officers continued adjusting the pieces on the map, redrawing lines, discussing tactics, and refining their defense and counterattack plans."Sir, that's it," the young officer said after a lengthy pause. His voice wavered slightly. "We've prepared an escape route to the southeast, should the Cerus break through our defenses. But there's a complication… there have been sightings of Cerus near Bataen." He tapped the map again, pointing toward the southern edge. "We can't guarantee how many will survive the evacuation. The Republic…" His finger trailed eastward, tracing a green line leading to the rendezvous point. "Twenty kilometers to safety.""The Republic has assured us they'll defend our eastern flank," he added.Silence filled the room, thick with unspoken fears. The officers exchanged uneasy glances, knowing full well what that meant."There's one more thing," Captain Macthur said gravely, breaking the silence as he turned his gaze to Jusis, who stood at the far end of the room, still looking shell-shocked. "You mentioned encountering a wyvern earlier. Did it seem corrupted?"Jusis nodded, his throat dry. "Y-yes, sir. Normally, wyverns don't attack us unprovoked, but this one…" He paused, recalling the terror in vivid flashes. "Its eyes—they were different. Wild and unnatural. And the fire it breathed wasn't the usual red-orange… It was green. Sickly green flames."The tension in the room deepened. Corrupted wyverns were rare, but their presence could tip the scale of battle drastically.Captain Macthur's eyes narrowed. "I can't believe demons are able to corrupt them." Then one of his officers pulled out the diamond symbol for wyvern and placed it on the map. "If the wyvern shows up as well and starts attacking us, our mages and bowmen will be forced to deal with them."Then using a stick he pointed out the ground troops. "Our forces will lose support against the demon army and lose our fighting chance against Cerus."Jusis' mind swirled with the memory of the beast—its predatory eyes gleaming with unnatural hunger, and the putrid flames that spewed from its maw. The image haunted him, filling the room with an ominous, silent dread."If that wyvern attacks…" the Captain began, pointing with a slender wooden rod, tracing the positions of their archers and mages. "We'll be forced to divert our ranged units, leaving our ground forces exposed. We'll lose vital support against the demon army. And without that support… we won't stand a chance against Cerus."Another heavy silence weighed upon the room. Finally, one of the older officers—his face lined with wrinkles and a great white beard cascading down his chest—spoke up. "Macthur, I understand we have no choice but to hold our ground as long as we can. But I can't help but notice something… You seem to believe we stand a fighting chance against Cerus. What is it you're not telling us?"Macthur closed his eyes for a moment, straightening his posture, standing tall. The room remained still, tension simmering beneath the surface. Suddenly, a wooden door creaked open, the sound cutting through the silence like a sharp blade. The officers turned, eyes falling on the figure that entered—a knight, tall and confident, with long, flowing blonde hair. Though young, no older than his twenties, the presence he carried was unmistakable.That is Vice Captain Suther.Suther's heavy boots echoed in the chamber as he walked swiftly to Captain Macthur's side. With a crisp salute, he spoke. "Sir! The defensive fortifications are proceeding as planned. I've ensured that the pathways around the city walls are prepared." He then produced a small wooden box, handling it with great care. "I believe now is the time, Captain. It's the perfect moment to finally use this."Macthur's eyes opened, glinting with an unspoken understanding. He reached out, accepting the box, brushing a layer of dust from its surface. "It's been a decade since this was last needed," he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. "Even at the end, he believed this could turn the tide. And now, here we are… ready to fight back again."The officers exchanged puzzled glances, none of them sure what the box contained—except for one.Leila, the adventurer, gasped quietly. "Is that…?"Captain Macthur said nothing as he carefully lifted the lid of the box. His fingers reached in and pulled out a small object, the significance of which sent a ripple through the room. His eyes gleamed with determination as he raised the object high, revealing it to the stunned assembly.A gasp swept through the ranks. All eyes were on the 'piece' that Macthur held.The officers' faces were frozen in shock, their jaws slightly slack. The old officer was the first to break the silence, his voice low with disbelief. "Impossible…"Macthur's voice rang out with conviction. "This, gentlemen, this is what we've been waiting for. Our hope, our salvation, and the weapon that will allow us to reclaim what we lost. And the one to wield this power…"He turned to face Ivan, who had been standing quietly to his left the entire time.. Macthur extended the tank symbol toward him, his hand steady, his eyes filled with confidence."… is none other than Sergeant Ivan Abrams, of the RedMusket. Comrade of our commander, Tiger."A murmur rippled through the officers as Ivan's name was spoken. The young officer standing closest to Ivan stammered, his eyes widening in realization. "A-Abrams?" His voice faltered.Then, as if on instinct, every officer in the room snapped to attention. Legs together, backs straight, hands raised to their foreheads in a sharp salute. In perfect unison, they bellowed, "We have awaited your arrival, Sergeant Ivan Abrams!"Ivan's eyes widened in disbelief, his breath catching in his throat as the room filled with the sound of salutes and honor. His heart pounded, his mind spinning. He could barely comprehend what was happening. And then, finally, his eyes fell to the piece in Macthur's hand—the small wooden tank cutout, glowing under the room's dim light."This piece is yours."Ivan's disbelief deepened as the wooden tank cutout settled into his trembling hands. The weight of the room's silence pressed on him, every officer waiting for him to accept the mantle they were offering. But instead of rising to the occasion, his expression darkened."I'm afraid I can't do much," Ivan said quietly, his voice low and filled with regret. "I'm sorry."His fingers traced the smooth edges of the wooden piece, his mind wandering back to a vision of his fallen comrades, their faces etched in the shadows of his memory. They had always been there, beside him, making every decision, every battle possible. He swallowed hard. "I can't do this alone," he admitted. "I'm nothing without my comrades. I can operate this weapon, yes... but without them, I'm just a man with a machine. I can move it, but I can't fight. I'd only be running away. That's all I can do now."Captain Macthur, standing resolute before him, gave a slight nod. "But you managed to take one down earlier," he countered, his voice calm yet unyielding.Ivan's face twisted in shame as he looked down at the floor. "That was because I was stationary. I had to use innocent people as bait to lure that creature into my line of sight. That's the only reason I succeeded," he said bitterly, his voice barely above a whisper. "And now that I've seen what those creatures can do… I know I won't stand a chance. I can't fire and move at the same time. If I stay still, I'll be destroyed before I can even fire a second shot."The officers exchanged glances, the gravity of his words weighing down on them. Ivan lifted his gaze and met Captain Macthur's steely eyes. "I can't do it alone."The air in the room felt thick, heavy with doubt. But Captain Macthur didn't waver. His voice remained steady, unshaken. "I know that, Sergeant. You're not alone anymore. You have new comrades now." His eyes drifted to the adventurers standing nearby—Leila, Leonard, and Jusis—who were watching the exchange unfold, and then back to Ivan. "They'll fight alongside you and help you to use your weapon."Ivan shook his head slowly, his voice flat. "You're asking for the impossible. These aren't trained soldiers—these are civilians, adventurers. You think they can just walk in and operate advanced military tech like it's nothing? We spent months learning how to use that tank. And you expect them to—""Sir! Demon forces spotted to the south, approaching fast! Six kilometers out, reported by the 4th recon team. They're marching from Bataen!" the man from the second floor shouted, his tone urgent.Captain Macthur's expression tightened as he swiftly drew a line on the map to the south, using a ruler to estimate the time before the enemy reached them. "One hour until they hit our defensive line," he murmured, his voice grave.The young officer, visibly shaken, raised a trembling hand. "C-Captain, should we redeploy some of our forces from the north to the south?"Ivan's eyes narrowed as he looked at the map. He already knew what that meant: relocating their forces would leave the north and east flanks, where evacuation plans were in place, dangerously exposed. Any movement of combatants would weaken critical positions, but the south, where the demons were set to strike first, needed immediate reinforcement."Tsk," Ivan clicked his tongue, frustration bubbling within him. His tank was stationed in the south—the only viable weapon to hold off an assault that size. But even with the tank, Ivan questioned his next move. What should I do? Run? Fight? Could I really abandon these people? He wasn't sure how much of this reality he even believed, but one thing was clear: their lives were on the line, and he couldn't afford indecision. Not now.His gaze drifted toward the adventurers beside him. Though clearly unsettled, their resolve was palpable. Leila's hands trembled as she clutched her wooden staff, her knuckles white, but she stood tall and defiant. Leonard, the knightly figure, knelt down on one knee, right hand pressed to his chest, his head lowered in a gesture of deep respect.Leonard spoke in a dignified tone, his words full of honor: "Sire, we art not soldiers of thy world, nor doth we possess knowledge of the weapons thou wieldest. Yet, I pledge mine loyalty. As I hath protected mine sister, so too shall I defend thee with mine very life."Leila, still trembling, took a breath and followed. "This world of ours, just like yours, is filled with mysteries. But if there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that we will do whatever it takes to help you, even if we have to learn how to use this weapon."Even Jusis, still confused and overwhelmed, stepped forward. "Y-yes, exactly! We may not understand everything, but we'll do anything we can to save… this town. So please, let us help you!"Ivan felt a wave of conflicting emotions. The weight of their resolve bore down on him, but the risks… They weren't trained. The idea of putting medieval-era adventurers in control of a modern tank was absurd. But as he looked at their determined faces, he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—he didn't have a choice.Then, in a flash, he recalled an unofficial protocol that Tiger, his former commander, had once shared with him—a desperate plan for emergencies. If one crew member was taken out of combat, they had to be replaced immediately, no matter who it was. Ivan remembered Tiger saying it wasn't in the official military guidelines, but it had proven its worth when they recruited Armstrong, a regular infantryman, on the spot.Ivan glanced back at the adventurers, their stance unwavering. Would Tiger scold me for this? I would definitely get court martial after this.he thought bitterly.With a slow breath, he finally opened his eyes and placed the wooden cutout on the southern part of the map, signaling his decision. Captain Macthur's lips curved into a faint smile, and a glimmer of hope returned to the other officers."Alright," Ivan said at last, his voice firm. "I'll defend the south, and you'll support me."