Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

Chapter 210: It Ended



The battle of Akarios Island ended in a victory for the coalition forces. Although they weren't able to kill the other Demon King General that attacked them, it was still a good result as

there were no demons that are presently alive.

"That was a tough battle," Princess Elara commented. "I don't think we could have survived that invasion. Thanks to your forces, Sir Vincent, we managed to repel them."

"Princess Elara from the Elven Kingdom is right," Queen Velara said, stepping forward. "They hit us strong but it was not enough thanks to our cooperation. Truly, your forces Sir Vincent was a huge help on culling large number of demon forces that are landing on the beaches."

"We have a different role in that fight, I should not be the only one receiving praises here," Vincent replied, looking at them too. "You two did a great job on taking on the strongest species of the demon clan, the demon king generals. Our conventional weapon alone wouldn't be able to defeat them. Our armaments are still lacking in power as not all of them are synthesized with magic. But if they do, this battle would end sooner than it did," Vincent finished, his eyes scanning the smoldering battlefield. The traces of smoke curled up from the craters left behind by the intense combat, mingling with the salty sea breeze. The scene was a harsh reminder that while they had won, it was a costly victory.

Queen Velara nodded solemnly, her emerald eyes reflecting the flickering fires that marked where their comrades had fallen. "The demons' strength is relentless. Without greater magical synthesis and integration, future battles will only become more difficult. We must be prepared for the next wave-because it will come."

Princess Elara glanced at the sea, the waves lapping at the blood-streaked shore. Her expression was pensive, and a deep sadness reflected in her eyes as she surveyed the devastation left by the battle. The beach, once a peaceful border between land and sea, was now littered with the bodies of fallen demons and their own warriors, twisted remnants of machines, and shattered weapons. The metallic scent of blood and the acrid tang of gunpowder still hung heavily in the air.

Vincent stepped forward, his boots crunching against the debris. He could see the exhaustion in the eyes of his soldiers and the weariness etched into the faces of their allies. The victory had been hard-fought, but now came the less glorious part-the cleanup.

"Commander," called Brandt, one of Vincent's trusted officers, his uniform smeared with soot and grime. "We've begun assessing the situation. Casualties are high, but the worst of the fighting is over."

Vincent nodded solemnly. "Good. Get every available hand on cleanup. We need to clear this battlefield and give our fallen the respect they deserve. Coordinate with the elves and dwarves for magical assistance where possible."

Princess Elara turned away from the sea, her gaze now set on the mangled forms of demon corpses scattered across the sand. "We'll need to purify the area, Vincent," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "The dark energy that lingers from these creatures will taint the land if left unchecked."

Queen Velara, standing nearby with her hammer resting against her shoulder, nodded. "Agreed. My warriors will begin the cleansing rituals. It will take time, but it's necessary to ensure that the island remains safe for us and any future battles."

Vincent's eyes swept the battlefield one last time before he barked out orders. "All units, form into designated teams. Squad leaders, oversee the collection and organization of our dead. Use the spare tarp from supply tents to cover the fallen until we can give them a proper send- off. Engineers and medics, tend to the wounded and stabilize any damaged structures. Mages, support the cleanup with spells to lift debris and reinforce weak points."

The coalition forces moved with grim efficiency, the unity they displayed in battle now turning toward the solemn duty of clearing the battlefield. Soldiers with grim expressions worked side by side with elven healers, their hands glowing with gentle green light as they eased the suffering of the wounded. Dwarves wielded their sturdy tools, prying apart crushed metal and clearing paths through the debris-strewn landscape.

Elara stepped into the fray, her fingers weaving intricate symbols in the air. Tendrils of light sprang from her hands, forming gentle, almost transparent waves that swept across the ground. Where they touched, the dark essence left by the demons recoiled and dissolved, leaving behind only the clean, damp sand. "This will prevent any lingering corruption from taking root," she explained to a nearby mage, who nodded in understanding and mirrored her motions.

Velara hefted Stormbreaker and walked toward the bodies of demon soldiers piled near the edge of the forest. Her expression was hard, her emerald eyes reflecting determination. She placed the hammer head down and began chanting in a deep, melodic voice that resonated with power. The ground beneath the demonic remains trembled, cracks appearing as a soft blue glow pulsed outward. The bodies began to disintegrate, reduced to ash and carried away by the wind, leaving the land pure once more.

"Keep moving!" Vincent's voice cut through the sound of waves and chants, rallying his troops. "We've won today, but we need to be ready for tomorrow. No trace of the demons stays on this island."

Nearby, Lieutenant Moretti, an older soldier with a weathered face, supervised a group of troops pulling a damaged M1 Abrams tank from the beach. The vehicle's turret was scorched and bent at an odd angle, a testament to the ferocity of the demon assault. Moretti wiped sweat from his brow and sighed. "It'll take days to repair, if it's even salvageable," he muttered, glancing at Vincent as he passed.

Vincent nodded. "Log it for now. Prioritize what can be fixed in the short term. We'll need every piece of equipment operational as soon as possible."

Elara's purification spells moved methodically over the sands, neutralizing the dark magic clinging to the battlefield. She paused as she came upon a group of soldiers lifting the body of a young man who had fallen in battle, his armor dented and blood-streaked. She knelt beside him, placing a hand over his chest. "Rest now, brave soul," she whispered, a gentle light radiating from her palm as she closed his eyes.

Queen Velara's warriors, adorned in their heavy battle gear, approached her after completing a section of the cleansing. "Your Majesty," one of them said, bowing. "We've dealt with the corpses on the western edge. What are your orders now?"

Velara glanced at the darkened sky, where storm clouds still lingered as if mourning the loss of life. "Spread out and assist the humans. Clear any wreckage you come across, and ensure no remnants of dark magic remain."

The warrior nodded and relayed her commands, the group moving quickly to carry out their queen's will. Soldiers worked in tandem with the dwarves, using ropes and pulleys to hoist pieces of shattered artillery from the sand. Occasionally, a cheer would break out as a particularly stubborn piece of debris was moved, a small but uplifting moment amidst the somber task.

The grim

Cours passed, the sun dipping lower and casting long shadows across the determination of the cleanup operation gradually gave way to an unspoken bond between the coalition members. Humans, elves, and dwarves worked side by side, sharing water and stories as they toiled. An elven mage offered a weary soldier a spell to soothe aching muscles, and a dwarven engineer lent his strength to a human medic struggling to move a stretcher. Vincent stood at the edge of the command tent, watching the scene with a mix of pride and sorrow. Despite the exhaustion that pulled at him, a small spark of hope warmed his chest. If they could maintain this unity, perhaps they stood a chance against the greater darkness looming on the horizon.

"Sir," a young officer approached, snapping him from his thoughts. "We've nearly finished the initial phase of the cleanup. Should we start preparing the fallen for the rites?"

"Yes," Vincent replied, his voice steady but laced with the weight of the responsibility he was about to shoulder. "We don't have a priest, but I think I can handle the rites. We owe them

that much."

The officer nodded solemnly and hurried off to gather the remaining troops. Vincent took a deep breath, his gaze shifting back to the beach. The once chaotic battleground was now quieter, though the scene remained somber. The corpses of fallen soldiers and allies were respectfully covered, awaiting the final ceremony that would honor their sacrifice.

As the last traces of daylight began to fade, torches were lit around the clearing where the rites would take place. The flickering flames cast long, wavering shadows that danced across the bloodstained sand. The air was thick with a solemn hush, broken only by the occasional crash of waves and the quiet murmur of those assembling for the ceremony. Queen Velara and Princess Elara stood nearby, their regal bearing intact despite the exhaustion lining their faces. Velara's hand rested on Stormbreaker, the hammer a symbol of her strength and the shared resilience of their people. Elara's fingers twitched, as if she were weaving one last protective spell over the assembly to keep them safe in this vulnerable

moment.

Vincent stepped forward into the center of the circle, the soldiers and allies turning their eyes to him. He wasn't accustomed to this role; he was a commander, a leader in battle-not a speaker for the dead. But tonight, he would be both.

Clearing his throat, he began. "We stand here tonight not just as victors of a battle, but as witnesses to the price of that victory. Each life lost here was a beacon of courage, a soul that stood unyielding against an enemy that threatened all we hold dear. They fought not just for their homes or their nations, but for the hope that light will prevail against darkness."

A few soldiers shifted, their eyes glistening as Vincent's words reached them. The silent grief

was palpable.

"These men and women," Vincent continued, gesturing to the covered bodies, "gave

everything they had. We owe them not only our respect but a promise-that their sacrifice will not be in vain. We will continue to fight, to build, to defend, until the day comes when battles like this are no longer necessary."

Elara stepped forward, lifting her hands as a soft, golden light blossomed from her fingertips. The light spread out in gentle waves, enveloping the bodies of the fallen and casting them in a warm, peaceful glow. "May their spirits find rest," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "And may they guide us in the days to come."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Queen Velara closed her eyes and began to chant, a deep, resonant melody that echoed with power. The warriors under her command joined in, their voices creating a harmony that resonated through the night air. It was an ancient song of mourning, a tribute to those who had given their lives in battle. The sound seemed to reach beyond the beach, carried on the wind to the open sea and the dark sky above.

As the chants filled the air, Vincent motioned for the torches around the bodies to be set

alight. Flames sprang up, their glow merging with the golden light of Elara's spell. The fire crackled and roared, consuming the bodies with a respectful finality that brought tears to the

eyes of many.

Lieutenant Moretti stood near the front, his jaw set as he watched the flames dance. Behind him, a young soldier whispered a prayer, her voice barely audible but carried by the wind. Around them, elves and dwarves bowed their heads, their expressions solemn.

Minutes passed, the chants gradually fading into silence. The only sound remaining was the

gentle crackling of the fires and the rhythmic pulse of the waves against the shore. Vincent's chest tightened, the grief he'd kept at bay now pressing down on him. Yet within that grief,

there was a sense of unity—a silent pact formed among those who stood there, watching the

pyres burn.

Elara's light began to fade, leaving only the glow of the fires. She lowered her hands, exhaustion evident in her eyes as she stepped back. Velara's song concluded with a final note that lingered in the air like an unspoken promise.

Vincent took a deep breath and spoke one last time. "Tonight, we honor the fallen. Tomorrow, we prepare for what comes next. We will remember them not just as soldiers, but

as heroes."