Here it is! Finally! First, I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for the cliffhanger I ended the last chapter with. I wanted to dedicate a lot of time and attention to this portion of the story, and I hope you'll find that it was worth it.
I found my secondary characters in this chapter fascinating to write. How does one imagine a younger Hanji, still consumed with hatred for the titans that she will later study with sympathy? How might one contrast Keith Shadis's leadership style and personality with that of Erwin's?
For those of you reading A Choice With No Regrets, you'll find that I've omitted Isabel and Farlan from this story. Since that particular manga series isn't over yet, but since Isabel and Farlan are clearly no longer with us in Shingeki no Kyojin's main storyline itself, it's clear that they've died somewhere along the way. Because I don't know, and partially because I don't particularly like the characters, I've assumed that they were killed prior to the events of this chapter.
My love of minor characters also continues! I've always thought that Nanaba deserved more screen time. As for Erd's appearance, let's just say that for one to refrain from pissing oneself on a first expedition of this kind, you have to be a special kind of badass.
Another character made an appearance, and I hope it was clear who it was.
Finally, I tossed in a few really, really, really subtle tributes to Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, and Star Wars, haha. I'll be impressed if anybody can find them.
Thanks for reading, and as always, please leave feedback!
Chapter 7: The Legion of the Year 846 (Part 2 of 2):
The titan was sliding across the ground mid-lunge, ploughing up the grass and soil with the force of its forward momentum as its teeth began to close. Levi whirled on his feet, cursing as he sheathed his swords and sprinted, taking two long bounds before throwing himself forward with all of his strength. Only the palest ghost of an adrenaline rush surged through his veins to aid him—the last weak endocrine impulse his drained body seemed capable of mustering on this day already so filled with mortal danger. His body seemed to move too slowly as he dove away from the growing shadow behind him.
He landed in the sweet-smelling grass.
The expected pain of having his legs severed by the aberrant's bite did not materialize. Just behind him, Levi heard the titan's teeth snap together with a deafening clack, missing his feet and ankles by what felt like millimeters.
Not today.
Immediately, Levi was up and running again, diving and rolling this time to his right. Panicked yells and gasps of horror from the onlooking soldiers filled the air as the titan missed him yet again, its head overshooting Levi and buffeting him with the turbulent air from its passage. Levi's own head was turning, frantically searching for his black mare. There it was, cantering away and whinnying in fear as it looked over its back at him. Too far away.
Levi could not run, and with this aberrant's agility and power, neither could he fight.
With a speed that only a hardened, desperate criminal could know and learn to master, Levi snatched the signal gun from his belt. He aimed and fired. Thick red smoke suddenly filled the air, billowing from the barrel of the pistol as the canister streaked through the air to strike the titan squarely in the face as it faced him. Levi dashed madly towards his horse. Simultaneously, one of the spearmen, in an act of spectacular bravery, raced forward to impale the aberrant's arm upon his pike. For his trouble, the beast erased him from existence with a quick bite that left only the man's legs and lower torso behind to crumple to the blood-flecked grass. Levi had not counted on the spearman's help. Between the twin distractions of the smoke signal and a pike through the forearm, the titan had been stalled long enough for Levi to close within a dozen paces of his horse. Yet the soldier's sacrifice had been in vain… Levi already knew that he would never make it to that saddle.
The titan coiled like some grotesque monster of a cat before lunging at him once again. For the third time, he ran to one side and prepared to dive, his heart sinking as he gripped with the realization that this truly was the end. Today was the day after all.
His comrades had always assumed that he, Levi, felt neither fear nor anger. Hardly. In the moment before he was about to die, Levi felt the same terror and helpless rage that any other doomed human came to know in their final moments. In his entire life, however, Levi had subconsciously refused to ever show weakness, to ever give an opponent the satisfaction of seeing any trace of fear in his expression, and so only his eyes widened, his face still set in its grim snarl as he realized that his evasive leap this time would be too short to escape from the titan's yawning, bloody mouth.
He braced for immeasurable pain and an oblivion that never came.
Instead, his ears suddenly recognized the familiar snap-hiss of maneuver gear wires being fired. Two 3DMG anchors flew over his prostrate body, glinting in the sun as they were propelled by gas straight into the titan's eyes.
A shout, primal and female, pierced the air as a woman with short blonde hair soared over Levi's head. The cloak of the Scouting Legion whipped behind her as the soldier reeled her wires in sharply, catapulting herself like a cannonball into the surprised monster's face. Her two blades followed her anchors, stabbing deep into the titan's eye sockets and unleashing twin eruptions of blood and viscous fluid.
For a split second, Levi was slow to react for once—so great was his shock at the unexpected salvation.
The sight of the female scout detaching her blades, leaving them buried deep in the titan's skull, and somersaulting away from its wild bite reignited Levi's combat instincts, and in the next moment, his own blades were shining in his hands as he fired his maneuver gear into the side of the titan's head. A heartbeat later, Levi stood on the titan's heaving back, feet planted between its shoulder blades as it thrashed wildly, blind yet still unstoppably ravenous.
Levi had neither the time nor the inclination for finesse. He hacked downwards and diagonally with his right blade, pulled it loose from the titan's steaming neck, and delivered a cruel chop with the sword in his left hand that cleaved the cut of flesh completely free as the titan struggled in vain. Instantly, the aberrant sagged, its corpse limp. Just to be certain, he delivered a swift kick to the titan's nape, dislodging the slice of fat and muscle and sending it flopping end over end across the dusty ground.
From somewhere, it seemed his body had discovered a hidden reserve of adrenaline. Residual tingles continued to surge through his neck, cheeks, and arms as Levi stepped stiffly from the fallen aberrant's back.
Nanaba was straightening, new swords slotted into her hilts. Her hands and arms, utterly drenched in crimson titan blood, steamed as though afire. The heat from the giant's wounds must have scalded her fingers painfully raw, yet her face did not betray the slightest sign of discomfort.
Levi faced her and gave her a small nod. "That was extraordinary, Nanaba."
"Thank you, Levi," she replied, her seemingly eternally glum eyes scanning his dirt-caked uniform briefly for signs of injury. "It was my pleasure. Are you hurt?"
The sound of hoof beats led the two of them to turn. Two fellow scouts on horseback were approaching, leading two more riderless horses, one of them Levi's black-coated mare.
Levi recognized the tall, bearded Scouting Legion veteran Mike Zacharius first. Mike had been an experienced scout and soldier since long before Levi had first ventured beyond the walls. The grim, tired resignation that had darkened the face of the most battle-hardened member of the entire human military bore testament to the magnitude of the battle's toll. Levi noticed that just one set of reserve blades remained in the sockets at Mike's hip. Behind Mike rode Commander Keith Shadis, his head bandaged, a thin trail of blood running down one side of his frowning face. The commander's fiery ardor had burned out, replaced instead by an expression of numb resolve. The two of them maneuvered their horses deftly through the throng of foot soldiers alongside Levi and Nanaba, and Mike wordlessly reached down to hand Levi the reins to his mount.
As he climbed onto horseback, Levi became aware that the fighting in the immediate vicinity had calmed. The nearest titan strolled across the plains well over six hundred meters away. Yet even as Levi watched it stride mindlessly over the meadow, he could still hear the shrill screams carried to them across the air from some other corner of the battlefield. The company of nearby spearmen was gathering around them, approaching the four scouts as though drawn by a promise of safety. Only the soldiers on the edges of the crowd continued facing outwards, their spears pointed uneasily towards the distant silhouettes against the sky.
Keith Shadis cleared his throat, watching the crowd out of the corner of his eye as Nanaba swung into her own saddle. "Levi, are you low on gas?"
"I have half."
Levi had replied without looking. He too was glancing at the forlorn band of infantrymen that surrounded them.
The closest citizen-soldiers had formed a ragged semicircle around the four members of the Scouting Legion. Each gripped his or her spear, but apart from sharing this pathetic armament, every man and woman seemed to stand out starkly from the rest. A copper-haired woman slouched, her sleeves red with blood, eyes immobile and unfocused. A tradesman still wore his old leather apron. His hands shook, and he had thrust the butt of his pike into the ground as though to steady himself. Some faces returned Levi's gaze without blinking, some stared forward indifferently, as though fixated on the coat of his horse, and others flinched at the sounds of the ongoing battle, their heads turning constantly from side, necks craning as they searched with wide eyes for signs of danger. Each face revealed a difference balance of fear and determination, foolish hope and fatalism—a hundred expressions, a hundred unique portraits of humanity.
The commander looked away from the watching ranks of spearmen and let out a sigh. He clenched his set of reins tightly as he barked. "Stay close to me. We're regrouping." Levi perceived a tone of conviction in Keith Shadis's voice and frowned. So the commander intended to take the initiative? Were they deviating from the original battle plan?
"What's the situation like?" Levi asked guardedly.
"The army is in complete disarray. The soldiers with maneuver gear are spread out too thinly, and the spearmen don't stand a chance against the titans alone." Commander Shadis pulled his horse into a quarter turn as he declared, "The four of us will ride along the edge of the battle to rally and reorganize the regular soldiers and reestablish the protective perimeter. Once we gather a sufficient force, we will need to clear a path to allow the army to resume the march."
"Are you insane!?"
Startled, the four of them turned as one towards the source of the outburst. The sudden shout had originated from one of the men standing nearby, a thin youth with wild eyes. "Half the army is already dead—why aren't we falling back to the wall?"
"They're just running and leaving us here to die!" cried another.
Looking back at the crowd, Levi saw hurt, anger, hate, betrayal written across dozens of faces. Forsaken by the walls that they had trusted to protect them, forsaken by their own government and forced to throw their lives into this desperate gamble to retake Wall Maria, these unwilling conscripts now saw themselves just as cruelly forsaken by the soldiers that had sworn to protect them.
The accusation had spurred Commander Shadis to nudge his horse forward, between the spearmen and the three other scouts. Animated by fresh fire, he insisted loudly, "Hear this—the Scouting Legion will not abandon those it has sworn to protect!"
Seized by a resurgence of the ferocity with which he had performed the same gesture at the expedition's commencement, the commander drew one of his 3DMG blades and held it high as he declared, "Many of our comrades have fallen trying to protect you from the titans. We ride now with the same unyielding dedication! Our forces will intercept the enemy in the open, so that the main force can march once again!"
The copper-haired woman snapped out of her reverie and let out a harsh laugh. "What's the use? Don't pretend you can keep the titans away from the column!"
Keith Shadis had no response, and for a moment nothing could be heard but the constant hiss as the nearby dead titan's flesh continued to dissolve, boiling away in thick clouds of steam.
A voice from deep within the mass of spearmen called out, "It's hopeless! We can't possibly reach Shiganshima!"
Murmurs, bitter in their agreement, ran through the circle of these exhausted men and women who had been nothing but impoverished, starving refugees just a week ago.
Mike was leaning forward, placing a hand on the commander's shoulder. "Keith, we should keep moving."
Roughly, Keith Shadis shook himself free from Mike's grip. He waved his free hand at the battlefield around them and exclaimed, "Many have died, but listen to this—we will never again have a chance like this in our lifetimes!"
At those words, everyone looked to the commander in surprise.
Shadis continued, bellowing "This is the largest army that has ever been assembled in history! Today, we have slain more titans than humanity has managed to kill in the last hundred years combined! Before today, no human on foot had ever fought this far into titan territory!"
Now, he brandished his sword at the southern horizon, where they could see yet another handful of titans walking slowly towards the embattled army. "The broken gate in Shiganshima is right there, just thirty miles onwards! We are closer to our goal than we have ever been, but if we withdraw now, humanity may never again have the strength to ever reclaim the outer wall! Thousands have died today—their deaths cannot have been in vain!"
The soldiers stared, their expressions cynical and disbelieving. Nor could Levi blame them. Now that the commander had reminded them all of the distance that remained—a distance that would take a day and a half's march to cover—it was obvious to everyone that sealing the gate was impossible.
Keith Shadis saw that his words had perished, swallowed by the prevailing fatalism, and his shoulders sagged. He lowered his blade until it rested lightly against his horse's flank.
Almost as though mirroring the commander, one of the soldiers in the first rank lowered himself to his knees. Whether the man had let himself fall from fatigue or despair, Levi could not tell. Levi looked back to his superior officer.
Keith Shadis. He sat in the saddle, his back and neck slack with defeat.
Levi had ridden behind him on the return trip from many a failed mission, watching the leader's shoulders rise and fall lifelessly. Levi had seen him freeze in horror and curse beneath his breath as men died uselessly in battle. He had watched the commander fly into battle with a fearsome battle yell, hacking at limbs and swerving away from fingers wider than oaks. He had been shocked once to hear the man let out a choked cry of self-loathing, breaking down and falling to his knees before of the mother of a dead soldier.
There was always a candle burning behind in the commander's window even in the darkest hour of the night. New lines were carved and etched around his eyes and mouth with each expedition. The deep frown when shopkeepers and merchants, children and old men called him a murderer, a glory-seeker… The look of confusion and frustration when the Legion's critics rained abuse on his leadership…
Was it the man's fault that he had no idea how humanity would ever achieve victory?
Seven years. Seven years Keith Shadis had served, subjecting himself repeatedly to a wheel of torture that broke him over and over… The commander was not a strong man, Levi now knew, but his superhuman ability to endure the nightmare deserved nothing but the highest respect.
A breeze swept across them as they waited, the rushing wind chilling Levi's skin where his damp uniform clung to his body. For the first time in hours, the air on the hilltop was suddenly refreshing and clear, free of the scent of death. Then the wind died, and the reek of thick blood filled Levi's lungs once more.
Keith Shadis. The man finally opened his mouth as if to speak. He stopped, then clenched his teeth and looked away, grimacing. Beneath them, their horses shifted uneasily, as though standing still now felt unfamiliar to them after spending the last few hours of frenetic combat at a constant gallop.
Nanaba simply sighed. "Where to now, commander?"
That was when they heard it—the unmistakable sound of soldiers fighting with maneuver gear in the distance.
The commander's head lifted immediately. For an instant, Keith Shadis was still, as though he was steeling himself once more for yet another plunge into a cruel hopelessness that he knew so well. Then the lines deepened around his eyes and mouth, and though his face became a desolate stone mask, his voice resonated with determination as he cried out, "Together with me!"
He raced away on horseback, blades in hand, cloak billowing out behind him as he hurtled downhill.
As Levi, Mike, and Nanaba kicked their horses into a full gallop after their commander and rode through a forest of spearpoints, some of the infantrymen called out, spitting curses and insults at their backs as the four soldiers sped onward. Yet, whether out of timidity or restraint, not one of them moved as Levi passed through the last line of soldiers and left them far behind, lost and abandoned on a bloodstained hill crowned by a shattered tree.
OOOOO
Half a kilometer away, five soldiers were swinging in arcs high above the dusty road, drawing delicate coils of spent gas propellant around the three ten-meter-class titans that they fought.
Hands, mouths, feet, and torsos stained with patches of crimson, the giants lumbered across a battlefield littered with corpses and torn limbs. Around them milled a few dozen surviving foot infantrymen, their formation hopelessly scattered. A few attended to the wounded, but most were fleeing across a meadow pockmarked with the craters of titan footprints. Other tiny figures stood their ground, dodging the greedy fingers and feet the size of wagons that threatened them.
The commander's horse was the fastest of the four, and Keith Shadis now rode six or seven horse-lengths ahead of Levi and the others as the four scouts raced through the meadow. Over trampled grass and ploughed-up earth they rode, eyes fixed intently on the battle ahead. Grimly, Levi ground his teeth as he watched the struggle, willing the fighting soldiers to hold on just a little longer…
How could the sky over such a scene of suffering be so breathtakingly beautiful? Canyonlands of cloud rose high into the air over a pure blue field, their grand grey-white columns and balconies gilded by sunlight as though afire. Against this otherworldly painting, five silhouettes danced and whirled, cloaks trailing behind them like banners.
The tallest of the soldiers flung himself gracefully into the air by one cable, hanging suspended for a heartbeat at the apex of the climb. Levi scowled as he watched the nearest titan move to take advantage of the human's mistake, swiping an outstretched hand at the soldier who was now falling in a fatal, predictable path earthwards. Mentally, Levi braced himself for the inevitable scream of terror from the soldier about to be caught in the titan's grasp. He kicked at his mare's flanks viciously, gauging the distance between himself and the man in peril even though he knew already that they would be too late.
Suddenly, the distant figure reversed his fall with a lightning-quick movement, firing both wires upwards and pulling himself upwards out of the path of the titan's arm. It had been a ruse. Blades flashed in the air as the tall soldier looped over the stunned monster's shoulder, vanishing behind its head and neck, and the spray of titan blood and flesh that followed next told Levi all he needed to know about the man's identity—that of a veteran of the Scouting Legion, beyond any doubt.
The titan reeled backwards, hitting the ground with a thunderous crash that elicited nervous snorts from Levi's horse as she galloped.
They were closer now, close enough to make out the bizarre, twisted faces the two remaining titans made as they turned in place, trying sluggishly to follow the soldiers flying circles around them. Close enough to hear fragments of the exchange of shouts and orders among the distant maneuver gear users.
The baritone of Mike's voice brought Levi's attention back to his own squad's immediate situation. "Distance to targets—300 meters!"
"Prepare to switch to 3D maneuver gear!" Keith Shadis screamed. Responding with calls of acknowledgement, Nanaba and Mike drew their weapons, their expressions tense but focused. Mike's last set of blades swung free from their sheaths with a whisper of metal. Levi neither moved nor opened his mouth; he had never bothered to put his blades away.
Up ahead, the tall soldier had re-emerged, launching himself into the air after a second titan. At this distance, Levi could now make out the man's short blond hair and distinct features. Captain Erwin Smith, second-in-command of the Scouting Legion, flew once more into battle, blades still bloody and steaming.
Emboldened by their leader's example, the other four soldiers stalked their gigantic prey with the eagerness that came with imminent victory. They attacked in staggered pairs, one flier following another at a distance. The lead partner, playing the role of bait, would draw the titan's attention with a fast, evasive dive, distracting it long enough for the second to direct an attack at the monster's neck. As Levi watched, one of the scouts—a female judging by her flowing ponytail—lunged in midair and slashed at the largest titan's nape. The blades cut too shallow, and she was forced to careen away as the titan flailed at her in retaliation.
That was when disaster struck.
The female soldier swerved away from the oncoming arm and flew directly into the gaping mouth of the second titan.
His fellow legionnaires had always whispered that Levi never felt so much as a shred of grief at a comrade's passing in battle. Hardly. As the doomed soldier screamed, as Levi recognized the voice of a fellow scout, a wrenching pang gripped his heart upon the sight of blood pulsing from between the titan's lips as Nadine's body vanished forever.
A cry of shock came from the youngest soldier upon realizing what had happened, and in that instant of distraction, the youth collided with a taut wire fired by one of his fellows. Out of control, he tumbled from the sky and hit the ground—coming to rest directly beneath the descending foot of the larger titan. His own scream of pain broke the air, echoed by the horrified exclamations from those watching.
In less than six seconds, the five fighting soldiers had been reduced to three.
"150 meters…" Mike breathed, his voice heavy.
"Switch to maneuver gear." Keith Shadis ordered tersely, climbing up from his saddle until he was crouching on one knee upon his horse's back. Levi was the first to lift himself into the ready position as he, Mike, and Nanaba followed suit, planting their heels into the seats of their saddles. Hooves pounding the dirt, the four horses carried their stone-silent riders into the fray.
OOOOO
In those few seconds remaining before they rode close enough to engage the titans, the ground changed from green to brown-red, and the hummocks of soft grass became choked with human bodies and parts of bodies. In that same moment, they plunged into the long shadows of the terrifying foe. Bubbling fear eating away at his stomach, Levi looked away and upwards at their targets and clenched his swords, suppressing the part of him that wondered how his own corpse would look sprawled like a doll upon this blood-soaked field.
Above them suddenly exploded a shrill yell, raw and full of rage, its power and anguish seeming to embody the collective grief of humanity that day. Her voice still ringing with the drawn-out cry, the soldier responsible was shooting skywards at incredible speed, bearing down upon the titan that had devoured her friend. Emerging from the titan's shadow into the sun, the woman's tear-stained cheeks blazed brightly with reflected light. A battle scream of vengeance still erupting from her bared teeth, Hanji Zoë was flying at her nemesis without any thought of self-preservation.
Keith Shadis had ridden within maneuver gear range, and he shouted a warning, leaping at once into the air to join the battle, yet his booming voice failed to overcome the force of Hanji's yell as she hurtled towards striking distance. The second titan was turning to meet her, its cruel arm already extending.
Ahead, Hanji charged.
As the commander raced after her, climbing to the height of the titan's hip, a second shadow loomed over the embattled soldiers of the Scouting Legion, accompanied by the earth-shaking thud of massive footsteps. The larger titan had rejoined the melee.
Levi's eyes narrowed. Not just out of fear—but because the giant had stepped within reach of his anchors.
Instantly, he was leaping upwards, firing a grapple from his left side into the tall titan. Air rushed past him as he gained speed, its resisting force a gale in opposition to his flight. As he rose, Levi quickly adopted his unconventional fighting form. He reversed his grip on the hilt sitting in his right hand, spinning the blade until it trailed behind him, thrusting his ring and little finger into the trigger guards. Behind him, Levi could hear Mike and Nanaba ascending into the air as well, their wires shooting upwards past him.
The three of them ignored the larger titan, using it as an anchor point as they sped after Hanji and the commander. On the large titan's other side, Captain Erwin rose into view side-by-side with the other surviving soldier. All their thoughts were the same—if they were lucky, they might be in the position to save Hanji if the worst came to pass.
In unison, they released their anchors and shot new wires into the flesh of Hanji's target.
Hanji's next move was half-genius, half-insanity.
Instead of moving to avoid the oncoming threat, she fired her anchors directly into the titan's hand and forearm. Suddenly, Hanji became a dizzying blur as she spun and rolled like a child's toy around the outstretched limb. The titan's eyes spun in their sockets almost comically as it attempted to track her movement.
Two metallic clinks announced to everyone within earshot that Hanji had disengaged her anchors. With a fresh cry of fury, she dove, firing an anchor into the giant's armpit. Like a slingshot, she whipped underneath the gargantuan arm above her and flew towards the clouds, spinning, her hair and cloak wild.
In its last moments, with Hanji now out of its sight, the titan had just enough time to turn towards Levi and the others with a hungry grin. They moved to dodge the hands that swung lazily at them.
With a final shout, Hanji struck.
Light faded in the titan's eyes, and it collapsed like a colossal marionette. Immediately, Levi felt his stomach drop as its body tugged his wire earthwards in its fall, and he maneuvered rapidly around its bulk to avoid being trapped beneath. The ground rose up below them, and as the dead colossus met the earth in a crash, the seven soldiers of the Scouting Legion attached to its body landed roughly around it. The impact was hard and jarring.
The cloud of dust, an opaque, tan curtain, billowed around Levi, surrounding him as he climbed to his feet. All sight and sound seemed to fade as the sandstorm raged around him until he could neither hear the shouts of fellow soldiers around him, nor see the grass at his own feet. For a minute, cut off from the living world by the storm of sand and particles, Levi half-wondered if he had just died without realizing it. An afterlife filled with floating, swirling dust and phantom-like shadows seemed somehow fitting.
Then he heard the sound of battle orders once more—the commander's and Captain Erwin's—ringing clearly over the whispering rustle as the cloud of dirt began to settle.
He became aware again of the foot soldiers running away past him, first as silhouettes, then as impressions of faces and colored cloth. Their panicked babbling and gestures were incomprehensible to him as they passed, their heads staring at him as though dumbfounded. Levi straightened. Slowly, his vision cleared, and the dust thinned to reveal none other than the intimidating sight of the last titan towering above him as it approached in a shuffling walk. Behind it, some of the other soldiers were already in the air again, angling towards its neck.
Strangely, he felt no sense of danger, no driving instinctive impulse to run or act. Instead, Levi started forward absent-mindedly, clambering with hands and knees over the fallen arm of the freshly killed titan in front of him. The heat of its decaying flesh threatened to sear his bare palms as he made his way down the other side.
Slowly, as the reverberations of the approaching footsteps intensified, Levi became more and more aware of a pained moaning that appeared to be emanating from the battlefield just in front of him.
A dozen or so feet away lay a cluster of human dead, some of them mashed flat inside the depression left by a titan's footprint.
Then he saw one of the corpses stir.
He stared. The young soldier that had been trampled earlier beneath the titan's heel was still alive.
The soldier's face, gray with imminent death, lined with unimaginable pain, and damp with tears, was wholly unfamiliar to him. The youth's body, however, had been crushed from the lower torso down, leaving nothing but a horrifying ruin that caused a wave of nausea to seize Levi's midsection with just a single glance.
Ignoring the looming titan beyond the dying boy, Levi wondered at what he was doing as he approached. His head felt light-headed and strange, and though a part of him was furious at his own sleepy inaction, Levi simply no longer felt any impulse to fight or to run. Rather, he continued walking forwards, step by step, until he stood at the far edge of the patch of bodies. His thoughts whirled as though struggling against captive chains. Had he been dazed in the fall to the ground? Had his fatigue finally caught up with him, or had he perhaps lost all grip on his mind? The Levi he knew ought to be in the air fighting alongside the others to slay the large titan, not stumbling about aimlessly on foot.
Indeed, Levi's muscles felt perfectly poised even despite their soreness, fully prepared for the resumption of combat… yet it was his mind that could no longer supply the energy to lift one sword, much less command his body to throw itself once more into what was unquestionably a hopeless battle.
Onwards came the titan.
The crushed soldier turned in his agony towards the oncoming giant. At the sight of the titan bending down above him, ignorant of the soldiers swarming around its head like wasps, the boy let out a groan of disbelief as though helplessly amazed at his own misfortune. Wincing in pain, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the dark, bloody earth in seeming acceptance of his fate. But, as the titan extended its fingers and seized him by the cloak and shoulder, the soldier's sigh turned into a plaintive scream.
"Sina! Please… no! Gods… Please! Help!"
The youth's arms struggled weakly. Even a doomed man, it seemed, fought against oblivion to the very end, hoping stubbornly for salvation even in the face of the irrefutable knowledge that he was dying.
Yet, in defiance of every ounce of logic and compassion in his body, Levi did nothing. He stood. He watched, even as the boy's eyes found him and fixed on him in desperation, pupils wide and pleading. Though the soldier's face was as pale as a corpse's, his eyes still blazed with life's full fury.
"Stop it! Someone help!"
Suddenly, someone raced past Levi, bounding across the broken ground. He spun to see a head of brown-grey hair, a green scarf, a back clothed in an earth-colored coat as an old man sprinted past Levi's immobile body towards the panicked yells. The man dashed forward with surprising speed, brandishing his pike as the youth left the ground to dangle from the titan's fingers. The weapon's point, Levi noticed, was already stained red.
The spear flew forward in a thrust, accompanied by a hoarse shout from its wielder. But instead of stabbing at the giant hand holding the soldier captive, the spearman chose a different target. Lunging forward, he plunged his pike deep into the mortally wounded soldier's neck.
Surprise briefly lit up the youth's eyes before they glazed over forever, and the boy's limbs went limp as blood cascaded down his uniform. Instantly, the stooping titan lost interest, releasing the cadaver from its fingertips as it turned its ugly head to look towards Levi and the foot soldier.
Ahead, the spearman freed his weapon from the boy's corpse and backpedaled away from the giant he had just robbed of a meal.
Levi's surprise at what he had just witnessed returned a semblance of activity to his physical body. As the titan reached for him and the old man with bloody fingers, Levi finally found the spark of life required to jerk his legs into motion, stumble backwards, and escape. The five fat digits closed, grasping nothing but air.
In the sky behind the titan's head, a shadow wielding twin blades appeared.
Mike Zacharius's fighting technique was anything but graceful. His physique ill-suited for acrobatics, the soldier preferred crude, carefully timed diving attacks, hacking brutally with a butcher's artlessness at the necks of his targets.
Mike dropped like a stone, using his height and size to throw his full weight behind the force of his blades as he aimed two cleaving blows. Levi did not see the cuts, but the sound of blades tearing messily through ligaments and tissue was unmistakable. Blood and flesh erupted from the bending titan's nape, and it crumpled forwards, driving into the ground and plowing the soil before it into a small ridge.
Pieces of the titan's neck were still spinning through the air to the ground from the sheer energy of Mike's attack as the remaining soldiers of the Scouting Legion landed on the grass around them.
Erwin. Commander Keith Shadis. Hanji. Mike Zacharius. Nanaba. They straightened from their return to the earth, then approached one by one to gather around Levi. The last soldier—a new recruit that Levi only recognized by sight—hit the ground awkwardly and stumbled before wearily joining the rest of them. As the old spearman walked away to join the handful of other foot soldiers nearby, the scouts gathered in a small band of their own.
Vacant expressions. Eyes that burned with an intense fatalism. Torn, bloodstained cloaks. Dull, chipped blades. Across the small circle, Erwin mechanically raised an arm to wipe sweat and grime from his face. Beside him, Nanaba's hands were shaking, causing the hilts of her lowered swords to rattle softly. Mike did not meet anyone's eyes as he raised his head and whistled, calling their horses back to them.
Hanji joined the group, brushing a hand gently against Mike's arm so that he stepped aside to make room. As she took her place, Hanji glanced at the tall veteran's expression, then frowned. Her own face, Levi noticed, was frozen in lingering shock.
"Do they smell different once they're dead, Mike?" she asked. Her voice was raspy.
"They do."
"Do they really?" Hanji mused. "How strange…"
Their horses cantered up to the small group, then slowed as each animal sought its respective soldier. Levi's mare found him and snorted hot air on the back of his neck as it sniffed at his hair worriedly. Further away, however, two other horses were pacing back and forth, tossing their heads in consternation at their inability to find their former riders.
Keith Shadis chose that moment to glare at Levi. "You! What in heaven were you doing just now, standing around like that?" Raising his voice, he gestured back over his shoulder at the defeated titan and continued, "How—why were you just sitting there, watching a brother get eaten by a titan in front of your very eyes!?"
Levi exhaled, returning the commander's glare with a tired stare of his own.
He had no reply. How could he? What had just happened not only defied his ability to explain, but genuinely frightened him to the core. In that moment of inaction, Levi had felt as though he had suddenly discovered the true limit of his endurance, only to realize too late that he had already far exceeded it. His fanatic will to fight against all odds, a quality honed and strengthened over a lifetime of brutal struggle, had been replaced without warning by a powerful mental exhaustion so overwhelming that it had left him virtually paralyzed. Now, Levi could feel his mind, arms, and legs responding to his will once more, but would it last?
Captain Erwin must have seen and recognized something in Levi's stare, because he caught Keith Shadis's eye and gave the commander the tiniest shake of his head.
Keith Shadis sighed, looking from Erwin to Levi then back to Erwin again, and the intensity of his glowering expression dissipated slightly. He paused, then rounded on Hanji.
"And you! Hanji! Explain yourself. What were you thinking, attacking that titan like that? You were lucky not to end up killed!"
"I was killing titans," Hanji spat sullenly, then added, "and avenging the death of a fellow comrade." At this, Hanji's air of simmering resentment suddenly fell away, and she broke down where she stood as tears fell from her eyes. For a moment, they stood there without speaking as Hanji sobbed quietly, a combination of grief and helpless hatred written across her features.
Mike's eyes were just as dull and lifeless, and he appeared lost in his own thoughts. He and Nadine had come from the same village in the Wall Maria territory.
Hanji turned away from the rest of them to look at the titan she killed, and Levi followed her gaze.
As he looked too at the bloodstained mouth of the titan that had swallowed Nadine, he grappled vainly with the realization that yet another familiar soul had been erased from the world he knew.
He was no stranger to loss. Countless faces from his childhood and military service lived now only as faint recollections in his mind, their images both intimate and painful to the memory. Yet with every fresh death, it seemed that Levi still had not learned to harden himself to the grief. A strange trauma always accompanied the struggle of accepting that someone he had known, however distantly, was now gone forever.
Nadine's beaming smile at the dining table in the Scouting Legion barracks was now another image of the past, never again to be a part of her future or theirs.
How many fellow scouts had already died in this monumental battle, never to return even as wrapped corpses to the safety of the walls? How many other comrades now existed only as memories, their dreams and quirks in life extinguished? Would any of those still alive today, ultimately, survive this slaughter?
"Nadine and Albert are dead, along with the two soldiers from the Garrison," Erwin was reporting to the commander, his voice trembling slightly as he said the names. "One of the trainees is dead, another went missing an hour ago, and as for the last trainee—Arthur…" Erwin looked to the half-flattened corpse, saw what he needed to, and concluded slowly, "…dead as well."
At this, Levi looked to the elderly spearman standing a short distance away. Their eyes met, and both understood that what the older man had done required no explanation or justification. The simple foot soldier turned away, a distant look in his eyes as he looked over one shoulder back towards the north.
Keith grimaced, then said to Erwin, "It's a superhuman feat that you managed to keep that much of your squad alive as long as you did."
Erwin flinched at the commander's words, and it was clear to Levi that the captain did not consider his preservation of three survivors from his squad's original strength of ten as an achievement of leadership.
The commander then turned to the recruit standing beside Erwin and gave the young soldier a nod. "You're learning quickly, Erd Gin."
The blond-haired young man looked queasy as he acknowledged the praise. Levi looked over the new scout briefly with an evaluating eye. Legs steady. Eyes fearful but focused. Uniform sleeves brown with dried titan blood. Two sets of reserve blades remaining.
Most of his fellow new scouts had likely already paid the ultimate price for their choice of branch, dying between sets of titan teeth or falling, broken, to lie in their new cloaks upon the meadow. That Erd had survived up to this point, even accounting for a handful of titan kills, suggested that he possessed uncommon potential as a soldier.
Levi wanted to shake his head at the waste of life. Never before had so much been demanded from a new class of Scouting Legion recruits on their very first expedition.
At his feet, a dandelion in bloom poked up from between the thick grass. He nudged the plant with the toe of his boot, sending a breath of fluffy seeds drifting across the trampled nightmare of a battlefield.
Abruptly, Mike's head shot up. "Titans. More than three, coming from the west."
That was when they felt it—the faint vibrations beneath their feet that they had overlooked until Mike's warning had alerted them.
"Onto horseback! Now!" Keith Shadis ordered.
They sheathed their blades hurriedly, their hands scrambling to seize bridles and reins.
Over the nervous neighs of their horses, they became aware of the pounding of titan footsteps in the distance. Out of the corner of his eye, Levi finally saw them.
Five. Five titans were descending from the crest of the hill on the road ahead. Running in the lead came a thirteen-meter-class aberrant. Wildly flailing its limbs, it hurtled towards them across the plain at a frightening rate. Levi, his heart jumping almost painfully inside his chest, gauged the distance as less than five hundred meters.
The aberrant was approaching rapidly as Erd and Erwin, the last to reach their horses, climbed into their saddles. Those already mounted reached for their hips, drawing their swords once more as the titans thundered towards them. Rapidly, the commander barked orders, and they separated into two squads of four and three soldiers. Levi, Mike, and Keith Shadis were just pulling their horses to one side when a shout came from a nearby spearman.
"Look! More of them!"
Levi turned, and his insides froze. Three more titans were emerging from behind the hill, all eight meters or taller. The seven scouts stared for several seconds, each privately realizing to their horror that to face no less than eight titans, one of them an aberrant, was nothing short of a capital sentence.
Glancing from the threat on the horizon to Nanaba's gloomy eyes, to Erd's pale, white face, to Keith and Erwin's cold expressions of resignation, Levi wondered glumly which of them would be the last to die. Then, with the drumbeat of the nearest titans growing louder by the second, Levi swung his horse around to face the enemy and mechanically cleared his mind in anticipation of the combat about to erupt around them.
Patiently, the seven soldiers of the Scouting Legion awaited their fate. Two hundred meters. One hundred meters.
"Leave the first to me,"
The commander turned to look at Mike Zacharius in surprise. Mike's expression was dark and unreadable. His eyes fixed intently on the lead titan, he did not blink.
Then, Keith nodded.
Without another word, the veteran soldier lifted his blades, tensed, and leapt into the air.
The tall scout rose to meet the oncoming aberrant.
OOOOO
That had been the last moment that Levi had remembered with complete clarity.
The fierce battle had taken place in his mind as an indistinct blur of sound and fury; surrounded by death, he had fought on pure instinct and primal cunning.
The jolt as his maneuver gear pulled him in a new direction, the tugging feeling as his blades carved through flesh—combat had become a haze, a storm of senses and swirling fear. He recalled the horrid stench of a titan's breath as teeth had closed in midair just inches from his head. The impact of warm droplets on his face as he'd flown through sprays of titan blood. He could still hear their battle cries—Keith's, howling and inarticulate. Nanaba's, defiant and desperate. Erd's, an involuntary screech that was the product of his own terror.
A handful of images stood out—Mike, completely decapitating a five-meter-class titan, one blade snapping as it passed through the other side of the titan's neck. He remembered Erwin tackling Hanji out of the sky, throwing them both clear of a swinging arm the size of a small bridge. He remembered the stab of pity he'd felt as he'd watched their horses scrambling to avoid titan feet, some of them vanishing beneath blundering toes in fountains of blood.
Shouts, orders. He had followed Hanji, then Mike, then Erwin as they attacked titans in pairs. He had landed amid the fighting alongside the commander, who had thrust pairs of spare blades into his hands with such urgency that Levi's palms had been lacerated by the sharp steel. Titans had fallen, only to be replaced by fresh foes as the carnage attracted more of the mindless giants. The forty-odd foot soldiers scattered across the ground had died violently almost to a man, completely at the mercy of teeth, hands and feet. Screams, the crunch of human bone.
Fly upwards. Maneuver. Dodge. Strike. Escape. Land. Repeat. He'd spun, rolled, looped, slashed, killed, wondering all the time when the end would finally come.
Then the fog of war had cleared, and he'd looked away from a falling titan to realize to his shock that he could not find another target. Around them lay sprawled a mess of mammoth limbs and torsos that protruded against the horizon like small hills. He'd descended to the ground, his head turning with wide eyes as he surveyed a battlefield covered with columns of rising steam that marked where titan corpses lay. Overcome with fatigue, he'd fallen to one knee. The earth was now still, the air now silent save for the moans and cries of the wounded and dying.
The seven of them had slain thirteen titans of all sizes. Without losing a single scout.
Now, they walked dazedly amidst the slain monsters to find their horses, their heads dizzy from lingering vertigo, their arms and legs sluggish and heavy, their gas canisters worryingly light at their hip.
The half-dozen or so remaining spearmen moved with more energy, but the expressions of these foot soldiers was terrible to see. Their stares spoke of the untold nightmare they had survived, and of their fatalistic knowledge that their own turn to die would soon come. Any dream among them that they might live to see the sunset had been mercilessly annihilated just as surely and brutally as the unlucky ranks upon ranks upon ranks of their fellow refugee-soldiers. They propped themselves up by their useless spears, with one of them—a young woman—still clutching an intact banner bearing the Legion's arms. Cynical, traumatized—the look in their eyes was almost a plea that the end be quick and painless. Their bodies, however, continued to perform the motions of life, preparing for the next hopeless skirmish.
Leading his black mare by the bridle, Levi navigated his way past the huge aberrant that Mike had eliminated at the start of the battle. The titan's limbs and body were thin, but its belly bulged, swollen and distended, and Levi shuddered as he imagined the horrors that lay inside. How many casualties was this aberrant responsible for? How many human bodies packed the space within, pressing against the stomach's lining? As he passed its lifeless head, a petty part of him considered kicking a foot into the beast's vacant, milky eyes, but he held back.
Revenge against a titan brought no satisfaction, no release. Titans did not fear death. They perished still grinning or grimacing stupidly, unrepentant of the despair and grief they inspired.
Next, he came across Hanji and Erwin. The two scouts stood side by side, looking down mutely at the human corpse at their feet. Levi noticed first that the dead body lacked an arm, and that the crimson soil surrounding it suggested that the soldier had been lost the limb and survived only to bleed to death where he lay. The next thing Levi perceived was the deceased man's face—his age, his beard.
The old refugee's eyes were wide open, as though he'd been fighting to stay alive right up until the moment of his passing. The blood-saturated scarf lying nearby, its folds bunched to form a makeshift dressing, attested as well to how strong the dead man's will to survive had been. His lips were parted slightly, as though he was still trying to whisper something. A few flies were already starting to gather, congregating with insensitive buzzes where flesh lay exposed or where blood pooled the thickest.
As he walked up to Erwin's side, Levi caught a glimpse of something shiny in Hanji's upturned palm. A small metal locket.
Feeling Levi's questioning glance, Hanji spoke without looking up. "He gave it to me just now. All he said was to give this to his grandson, to tell him that it belonged to his mother."
Erwin finally looked away, but Levi stared.
He was no stranger to death. Even so, Levi had always pitied the dead for as long as he could remember. Looking down at that lifeless refugee, he thought numbly that not long ago, this being had laughed and wept, beamed in joy and frowned in anger. It had smiled at cherished memories. It had sought out the comforts of habit as well as welcoming life's occasional enjoyments. It had befriended many, hating some with secret guilt while loving others desperately with genuine passion. It too, had been loved in turn, resented in turn. It had been born once upon a time, growing into the flower of youth before it would have receded again with the years of mounting age. It had dreamt and feared and thought and felt. Its soul had been filled with regret over past mistakes and lost opportunities, worry over the little misfortunes that were the price of life. Ultimately, it had lost, and suffered… but it had lived.
Each corpse was a monument.
OOOOO
Beneath the flowing banners, cloaked in the shadows of hundreds upon hundreds of titans, the Legion of the Year 846 was now dying. Two hundred and fifty thousand humans were being slowly exterminated, their resistance disorganized and ineffectual.
From the beginning, the plan had never been intended to succeed. The whole force had been equipped with just four thousand horses and four thousand sets of maneuver gear—just enough to outfit the trained soldiers. The rest of the army wielded only crude long pikes and banners—not a single cannon or flintlock rifle. It had been clear to even the most dim-witted of the trainees that the operation had been designed to fail; the central government, for its part, had barely bothered with even the pretense of providing the army with the equipment and supplies it needed to have any hope of success. Even the provision of each soldier with the uniform of the Scouting Legion was merely a thinly veiled political move, saddling that unpopular branch with total responsibility for the offensive's outcome.
The trained soldiers had cheered and raised great battle cries all the same as they had gathered before the gates on the day of the expedition. It was a façade that had fooled nobody, yet duty had demanded that they act as though they were assured of the mission's success. The applauding crowd had behaved as though they believed it, the general staff had stepped forward and made glorious speeches, and the men and women manning the wall had fired cannon and signal rockets in salute. Yet as the gates had lifted, not one citizen or Garrison soldier had made eye contact with the column as it left the city, nor had the foot soldiers' eyes left the ground as they walked.
Yet as each man and woman passed beneath the gate of Wall Rose, they would look back over a shoulder for one last glimpse of Trost's main avenue and the city's tiled roofs and brick walls. A few, as they stepped into the darkness of the tunnel to the outside lands, also raised their chins to gaze up at the stern, beautiful countenance of Rose herself.
They had marched through the wall ten abreast. Over three hours passed before the entire army of two hundred and fifty thousand had completed their advance through the gate.
Now they returned.
They fell back as fast as they dared press their exhausted horses. There was no column. Instead, the survivors rode in tiny bands, spread out across the battle-scarred hills and fields. Blue smoke signals curled and dissipated in the sky above them, spreading the word to any still alive to see: this was the retreat. Far behind, the dark silhouettes followed them, pausing only to scoop at the pinpricks of soldiers fleeing hopelessly on foot.
To either side lay a horror show of destruction and bloody carnage for scenery. On the left, along the road, they passed a column of smashed carts surrounded by a thick carpet of corpses, broken pikes, and crates and sacks of supplies smashed and spilled among the bodies. In a patch of untouched grass nearby stood three abandoned horses that had wrestled free from the destroyed supply wagons. The sole living beings for hundreds of yards, they grazed unconcernedly amidst the ruin.
The scene passed behind them to be replaced by another—a hilltop absolutely brown with blood, the scene of a desperate last stand by a battalion of infantrymen. Scattered upon the slopes lay several misshapen spheres, each wide as a market stall in diameter—the regurgitated contents of titan stomachs. Each might have contained the remains of between a dozen and twenty refugee-soldiers. Some metal object, either a blade or the shiny surface of a set of maneuver gear, caught the sunlight and shone brightly where it sat on the hillside.
Erwin. Commander Keith Shadis. Hanji. Mike Zacharius. Nanaba. Erd. Levi. Propellant tanks exhausted, horses tiring, their few remaining blades dull and battered, they rode homewards in a tight formation, backs hunched, trying to ignore the ghastly sights around them. Hanji's horse had been crippled later that day, and so she rode together behind Nanaba. Erd, too, shared his saddle, having picked up a fellow soldier who had run out of gas.
They passed a medical satchel lying alone on the blood-spattered grass, several bandages littering the ground nearby. The rolls of white cloth stood out starkly against the backdrop of blood and earth.
They passed a broken maneuver gear blade stuck hilt-up in the earth. Its owner lay thirty feet away, missing her legs.
Mike's face seemed to have turned to stone, and he stared straight ahead as he rode. Enduring defeat after defeat came hard to soldiers of the Scouting Legion, and coming to terms with the deaths of close friends was harder still, but Mike alone faced the cruel, crushing knowledge that in a single day, every single human being from his hometown that he had ever known, befriended, or loved had perished together with his best, most hopeful chance of seeing his village liberated. Levi felt nothing but the most helpless, deep sympathy for the man.
Keith Shadis rode like a broken man, a ragdoll. He slumped in the saddle under the weight of his thoughts. They all knew he would be held responsible. The commander had long learned to accept his part in their defeats, but never had failure been so complete, so crushing.
The impact of their horses' hooves on the soft ground was muffled. For the first time since the peaceful, early hours of the morning march, quiet reigned.
They passed a cluster of four corpses, all of them unusually intact. Three lay peacefully side-by-side, their heads cracked open by some blunt instrument. The fourth body lay at their feet, a knife embedded in his own gut, a bloodstained wood axe discarded nearby.
They passed a dead horse, its hindquarters obliterated. The depression filled with crushed vegetation just behind it marked where a titan had fallen, killing the poor beast.
Several feet to Levi's right, Nanaba spoke.
"Is this hell?"
He turned to see Nanaba and Hanji riding alongside him. Nanaba was looking to one side, watching the landscape of death pass by.
Suddenly, a voice answered, clear and firm. Erwin, his eyes fixed straight ahead, had replied.
"This is not the end."
OOOOO
"Of the thirteen, Levi, you killed nine."
Erwin had said this as he, Levi, and Hanji had been standing over the old man's body.
Levi had not reacted, but Hanji had turned, shocked, to look at him.
Captain Erwin's eyes, like Levi's, had not moved. His brow was furrowed as though he were concentrating intently on the fallen soldier in front of them, yet it was clear that his mind was far away.
"This was a defeat," he continued, "but with it, humanity has now grown stronger."
At this, Levi raised an eyebrow as he shot a skeptical glance at the tall officer. Certainly, it was clear, they had fulfilled their true objective today—the reduction of the population within the walls to a level that their remaining resources could support. Yet such a huge force, if better equipped and employed more strategically, might have achieved far greater results. Instead, it had been wasted in a crude gesture that had resolved the population problem with the most meaningless solution possible. The human army, in its death, had slain more titans in a day than their species had managed to kill in the last century, but that hardly mattered when their foe was seemingly limitless beyond counting. Nobody, certainly, had expected that the column would come under attack by hundreds upon hundreds of the giants. Surveying the battlefield, Levi reflected bitterly that they hadn't even managed to get within sight of Shiganshima.
At that moment, Erwin turned to face Levi, and said, "Most importantly, I believe that we have discovered humanity's strongest soldier."
The captain mused aloud, "I take it that you expended your full set of reserve blades at least once during the battle. With your customary efficiency, that implies that your kill total today has likely exceeded sixty titans all told."
Their attention was diverted by the reports of two signal guns. Keith Shadis and Mike had fired green smoke canisters into the air—a rallying signal for any survivors nearby. Hanji placed a hand on her horse's neck and began guiding it towards where the commander waited. Erwin and Levi moved to follow her, directing their horses respectfully around the body as they left it behind.
Levi took the opportunity to respond to the captain's earlier comments, "I wouldn't have guessed that you could be distracted from the larger strategic picture, Erwin."
Erwin overtook Levi, walking on ahead as he countered, "What will the Legion do, Levi, now that the expedition has failed?"
Pondering the question, Levi considered all the possibilities. He looked up at the sky as they made their way towards the commander and the other scouts. High above them, the green smoke was slowly disappearing against clouds that glowed gold and orange in the late afternoon light. He watched the heavens as they moved past slowly overhead, so remote and indifferent to the apocalypse below.
There could be any number of outcomes that might unfold in the days and weeks following this calamity. A tribunal of some sort was almost guaranteed. Keith Shadis would almost certainly be forced to resign. The public outrage would be substantial, but limited—after all, the citizens of the Rose territory had never particularly cared for the refugees from the outermost wall. In the end, the Legion would make a convenient scapegoat. Why, then, was Erwin so optimistic? He might be hoping to exploit the shock of the disaster in order for the Legion to argue for more funds and resources, but that seemed dangerous and completely foolish. He could be hoping that the army's fate would change popular attitudes, igniting a desire for new, bold action. Or was Erwin contemplating an internal plot of some sort, even a challenge to the power of the citadel?
"You tell me," he finally said.
"Given the human cost of today's fighting, I predict that the conservative faction's conspiracy to harm the Scouting Legion's image by holding us responsible will backfire tremendously," asserted Erwin, looking back at Levi over his shoulder. "The people will not fail to ultimately blame the king and his cabinet for this tragedy, and so our political strength, at least for a time, shall increase."
A glint of steel in his eyes, Erwin added, "Also—we have shown the government a taste what lies in store for mankind if Wall Rose, too, is breached."
"These two factors mean that the government cannot publicly abandon the effort to recover the outer walls, as to declare the army's destruction as futile would be an admission of the murder of Wall Maria's refugee population. Thus, the Legion will live on, as it alone will lead any future effort to seal the gate."
There was more than a grain of truth in Erwin's reasoning, Levi realized. The authorities would call for the Scouting Legion's abolishment, but their intentions had been so transparent, so boldly ostentatious, that to go through with their plan would invite backlash that Erwin could easily exploit and turn against them.
"I suppose that sounds reasonable," Levi offered. "We have no other options regardless."
Erwin, like Levi, moved stiffly, wincing slightly when he put weight on one leg.
His cloak, his uniform, even his maneuver gear was covered with spattered blood and mud. The lever for detaching used blades was missing from the hilt Erwin held in his left hand, and so the captain had continued using that sword even beyond its breaking point. The steel had sheared off near the tip, and the weapon's edge was chipped all along its length. At the captain's hip, the pouch for smoke rounds was empty, as was his holster for the signal gun itself.
Erwin himself bore the mark of wear and tear from the day's fighting. His face seemed perpetually set in a deep frown, and his eyes pointedly avoided contact with the corpses that they walked past. Yet, though it was apparent that a part of Erwin wrestled with the near-total loss of his unit, another part of the man brimmed with a resolute, grim confidence.
"Our branch has been guaranteed its future. We will continue to conduct expeditions, to observe our foe, and to learn to fight it." He declared solemnly.
Levi shrugged. "I still don't see how I fit into all of this."
"Just as the government has no choice but to accept the continued existence of the Scouting Legion in order to save face, it will have no option but to laud its members, for the moment, as heroes—" Erwin explained. "—of which you will be our proudest and greatest."
Levi's immediate reaction was distaste. It had been bad enough that half of the Legion, a good part of it now dead, had looked up to him with awe. The thought that all of humanity might speak his name in admiration genuinely… frightened him.
"This day has changed everything, Levi. Soldiers will no longer be mere soldiers… the military will become a proud profession, and it will attract, among others, those hopeful few who are willing to put their lives at risk for change."
Erwin stopped, and the two of them halted a short distance from where Nanaba, Hanji, Keith, Erd, and Mike had gathered.
So, Levi was to be a symbol—no, a weapon of hope.
A sheet of clouds passed directly overhead, plunging them into a shadow. Levi's thoughts turned to the coming night, and to a superstition of the streets that had been passed down from generations of young beggars and thieves to the smaller children. As unfortunates that slept in the open at the mercy of the elements, they had spoken in hushed tones of the belief that, whenever a soul passed on into the world of the dead, a star would fall from the sky at dusk. Levi had never been one to stare up at the stars, but a part of him wondered if, tonight at sunset, two hundred and fifty thousand points of light would plunge like rain from the heavens.
He already knew that they would not. The skies cared nothing for the lives and deaths of mortals. The very idea that the celestial canopy wept at human suffering was just another example of mankind's stupid, unreasonable capacity to hope. They looked to the sky for validation of their own perceived self-importance, prayed to the walls as though words, not blades, would protect them, and lived from day to day as though death was but a product of the imagination. In blackest night, they cried out believing that day would come again. Above all, they would grasp at any straw, any faint promise, that could allow them to hope in the face of utter hopelessness.
Why else had two hundred and fifty thousand soldiers marched out of the southern gate at Trost that morning under the power of their own legs? Not one of them could have rationally imagined how they would seal the gates at Shiganshima, yet they had joined the army passively and without resistance, believing against all reason that maybe, just maybe, the expedition would end in success.
Suddenly dizzy, Levi placed a steadying hand against the flank of his horse. The warmth from beneath his mare's skin told him that this was no dream. A battle had indeed been fought today. Had he truly killed sixty titans? Sixty? He had no recollection of the day's chaos, but now Levi wondered what his feats had appeared like to the masses of foot soldiers below him—those masses that had dwindled to companies, then handfuls with each passing hour. Had they looked up at him in foolish hope as he felled monster after monster? Had they, even at the very end, looked to him and dreamed of an impossible victory? Caught in a titan's death grip, had they waited for him to save them?
What a price to pay for the creation of a symbol.
Not for the last time, Levi resolved never to forget. He'd made the same promise to countless others, in the streets of the slums as well as on the green plains beyond the walls. His comrades could die with the comfort that they had not died wholly in vain. However little he, Levi, was worth, a part of them lived on in his resolve, lending strength to his blades whenever he struck, lending speed to his movements whenever he flew.
Until humanity had a greater, genuine reason to hope, he would be that hope.
Humanity's greatest soldier.
OOOOOO
This one was a fun one to write. Thanks for reading!