RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 3: The Prelude

RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 3: The Prelude

The rattling of a train, ten carts long, echoes throughout the night. Its destination is unclear as it rides along an undesignated train track. Aboard the cramped, poor quarters of the train, numerous souls accepted their fate of being deported to a land unknown to them. Women, men, and children of all ages... Seat in relatively tense, the helpless occupants in the carts can't help but be wary about the uncertain future ahead. Well, most of them, at least.

A child, younger than 10 from the looks of it, fails to acquire sleep, so, he does the only thing he can think of to stave away boredom. He sings.

"I'm going on a trip! On a trip to~... Hey, hey, mama, where are we heading again?" The boy tilted his head upward and asked innocently.

The mother, her eyes lacking the light they used to have, struggles to put on a smile, answering her son in a tired but kind way. "I do believe we're heading to the city of Auschwitz, son."

Making an "Oh, right!" face, the son returns to singing, blissfully unaware of the dread that suddenly shows up on his mother's face. going on a trip! On a trip to Auschwitz~!"

His singsong voice, bad as it may be, doesn't do more than put a frown on the other dozen occupants in the claustrophobic quarter of the cart. A few contemplate ruining the parade of the kid but ultimately decide it's not worth the trouble. Whatever comes next, they will need all the shuteye they can get.

Minutes later, the kid calms down enough, having wasted the excess energy that he somehow saved, drifting into slumber. His mother absentmindedly strokes his head, his hair is the same color as that of his missing father. The pillar of the house was spirited away by Sardegnian Enforcers months ago. Another tinge of pain, accompanied by tears this time, appears on the face of the mother. She is banking on the far-fetched hope that maybe, just maybe, her husband is at their destination, in Auschwitz.

She is not the only one with such hope, however. Many of her compatriots, all sporting the same white armband with the blue David star, wish to reunite with their missing loved ones. The Papacy spreads words that Auschwitz would be an isolated haven for their race, rounding up the Jewish communities regularly to ship them day and night. It's unknown just how true it may be but for most of them, they only want to meet their family and be away from persecution.

The rest of the train ride to Auschwitz occurs in silence, save for a few sleepless whispers or prayers here and there. For the majority of them, this would most probably be their final destination.

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Footsteps echo amidst a corridor of a grandiose cathedral, built higher than all other buildings in its vicinity and sitting atop a spacious hill. The calm, deliberated footsteps belong to a woman in her twenties with blonde hair and green eyes. Illuminated by the fake moon shining through the grand window, the woman fixes her disheveled purple jacket, showing off her frilly white shirt that covers up her ample bosom while doing so. Additionally, she has white gloves, a pink necktie, a brown belt, gray pants, and brown boots. Her outfit reeks of nobility or the Sardegnian equivalent of it, judging from the ornated Holy Cross resting on her jacket collar.

The S-rank Crusader is pulled out of her thoughts when the General goes on to say, his belly rumbling with every breath he takes. "Three avenues, three angles of attack we can use to completely surround the enemy, forcing the heathens to succumb to the will of God! After a long time of contemplation, I have come up with a great plan!"

Kallen almost rolls her eyes at this for she knows the man has been spending time eating and drinking fine wine with his commanding staff.

"We will split our force into three formations, each 15000 strong. The first formation will head North, bound for Teruel. The second formation will move West to secure Motilla del Palancar. Last, but not least, the third formation will go South with the order to besiege Murcia, the Spanish's Southern Stronghold." The General pointed at a few spots on the map. "Along the way, there are a few towns and villages that we must liberate in the name of the Lord. Use them as resupply stations if you must and restore order if you have to."

The fat General then smirks, directing his eyes across the command room. "Gentlemen, and lady, I will hereby name this plan Operation Ballista." His perverted eyes repulsed Kallen, clearly roaming his eyes alongside her curves. "God has entrusted us with the task of bringing judgment down on these heretics! We, as his executioners, will stop at nothing till they all are burning in Hell! Spare no quarter and punish them in the name of the Lord! God wills it!"

Then the entire room explodes into fanatic cheers.

"GOD WILLS IT!" Kallen followed suit, albeit not as feverish, more as an obligation.

The other officers and Kallen slowly filed out of the room, only for Kallen to be stopped by the General himself. "Lady Kaslana!"

She and a few other officers turn around, they clearly want to see what happens next. Not minding the spectators, the General picks up a golden chalice, filled to the brim with wine, slowly caressing it while the eyes that are looking at her go lower than they should be. Much to Kallen's hidden displeasure, the General opens up with this.

"I don't think these heretics will be much of a trouble for our mighty army, fair lady. Surely you need not dirty your hands with the blood of these heathens?"

Shaking her head, wearing a cold face, Kallen replies. "Our duty as Crusaders is to hand out the will of the Lord, regardless of difficulty or danger. We will stain our honor if we shy away from mere dirtiness."

Frowning but not losing his fake smile, the General continues in a lower voice. "But I insist, Lady Kaslana! You have been an active participant ever since the start of this... conflict, to put it mildly. Isn't it about time you settle down for a bit, taking care of your own well-being? Let us men finish what you started."

The subtle warning is not lost on Kallen though she is not sure why the fat General said it. There are many reasons why the General could feel disinclined to let her roam around. Unperturbed, however, the S-rank Crusader refuses to back down. "With all due respect, General. I do not answer to you, I answer to the Lord first and foremost. I will contemplate your advice but I assure you, I'm perfectly combat-ready. My sisters and I have our own obligations to fulfill and I think you should complete yours too. Have a nice evening, General."

Kallen performs a light bow before heading out of the command room, the curious spectators follow suit right after. Now alone, the fat General puts on a chilling smile before snickering. "Eh, whatever. Your loss, Lady Kaslana." He then proceeds to empty the chalice of its delectable content.