Chapter 4 - Glen
“Hurry! We must reach Prince Manfred immediately!”
Strang gripped the reins of his horse tightly and called to his subordinates, who rode behind him.
“Sir Strang! The horses are at their limit!”
“We’ll switch them for fresh ones along the way! Time is of the essence!”
Strang was confident about his meeting with Wein and had therefore assumed he’d be able to make his move. However, he was forced to switch strategies once reports of Bardloche’s gathered forces rolled in.
To think he’d act this fast...!
Reluctantly, Strang opted to pursue his minimum goal. He postponed the meeting and raced back to Manfred.
How much will the situation change during the tune it takes for me to arrive?
Strang urged his steed onward as he fought back irritation.
“There aren’t nearly enough horses. Where can we get more?”
“We have connections, but regarding quality...”
“There’s no time to be picky. We need numbers.”
“Speaking of which, we can’t forget the foot soldiers. Gather as many as possible.”
Bardloche’s top brass had gathered in a meeting room to debate before the Second Prince. They were, to put it succinctly, eager and excited. The gloomy atmosphere brought on by their faction’s weakness had hovered over them for a while, but it had since vanished without a trace. That much was to be expected, however, for Bardloche’s forces would soon enter the final battle.
"..."
The Second Prince sat quietly. Past failures had chipped at his pride, but his dignified aura remained intact, lending him an air of invincibility.
“Prince Bardloche, we have safely procured the items you requested.”
A woman named Ibis approached him from the shadows. She was a merchant by trade, but in truth, she worked for Caldmellia, a powerful authority within the Teachings of Levetia.
“When will they arrive?”
“I believe everything will be ready when our soldiers are assembled.”
Ibis’s tone was polite, yet she harbored no respect for Bardloche. To her, the prince was only a pawn. Bardloche knew this and scoffed.
“Not that it matters. After all, you’re the one who instigated this showdown.”
This wasn’t the first time Bardloche’s faction had worked with Caldmellia’s subordinate, so he readily accepted Ibis despite her wicked intentions.
“I wouldn’t dare commit such an outrageous act,” she replied with a civil smile. “I merely proposed a strategy that would allow Your Highness the greatest chance of victory. ”
Ibis had appeared several days ago and proclaimed, “Now is an opportune moment to step in and settle matters. ”
According to Ibis, Bardloche’s military strength surpassed every other faction’s. The Second Prince trailed behind only because his methods were too chivalrous.
“You are free to set the approval of the people aside. Remove all who stand in your way through armed force, and once Your Highness is the only choice for Emperor, they will naturally submit. While you stand here wavering over whether to draw your sword, the other players use that tune to their advantage,” she’d said.
It was to be a quick, decisive battle. The situation wouldn’t improve no matter how long Bardloche deliberated. Thus, he would rise to action, take down Lowellmina in the capital, then finish Manfred immediately afterward. Ibis would offer support every step of the way; such was the deal she had proposed.
It was an excessively violent option, but Bardloche’s top leaders accepted it with astonishingly little resistance. After the failed assassination, they suspected their more passive strategies were no longer viable. Everyone knew action was necessary.
The West’s support, under the guise of merchant aid, was a lifesaver. Its motives for aiding Bardloche’s faction remained a complete mystery, but the offer was sincere, and the prince saw no reason to question it. With this newfound help, Bardloche’s soldiers made ready for the final conflict.
“According to my subordinates, our sudden action has flustered Princess Lowellmina’s and Prince Manfred’s forces. We have the chance to strike first.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Bardloche was certain that seizing the initiative was a key factor. He would keep a tight grip on it and topple his two opponents. Faltering now would guarantee failure.
I know I’m at a disadvantage...but victory will still be mine!
Resolve filled the prince from head to toe as he awaited the coming battle.
Glen Markham’s family line had long been known for its military prowess. This didn’t change the fact that he and his kin were still low-ranking nobles. Their achievements were small when set against the greater tapestry of history. Nevertheless, Glen’s eyes had sparkled as a child when his parents spoke of their modest victories, and he was quite proud of his lineage. Perhaps it was unavoidable that Glen desired to take up the blade as well. He had the aptitude for it and learned true swordsmanship in the military academy.
But then, Glen hit a wall.
His progress stalled after mastering the art. No other swordsmen in the academy could spar against him, and his motivation plummeted.
More importantly, Glen plateaued because those around him—his parents, teachers, and friends—allowed it to happen.
He knew something had to be done; otherwise, he’d slowly decline and fall deeper into complacency. The man required a stricter environment.
That was when Glen met Wein and the others.
The outrageous arrogance shook him. The fearsome, quick wit that got away with everything. The sheer strength of it. Glen had never encountered such people, and Wein stood out most of all.
He’d heard rumors about a prominent trio, but upon meeting them, he realized there was obviously more to the three than met the eye. They provided the exact environment Glen had been hoping for.
Still, it hadn’t been without issues. Glen had foreseen a future where his newfound friendship caused his inner confidence and pride to crumble. Nevertheless, he’d known he needed to take that first step forward.
“Can I talk with you for a moment?”
Steeling himself, the young Glen had approached the three...
“...Phew.”
In the present, Glen Markham stood in a corner of the military grounds within Bardloche’s domain. Judging by the toned muscles of his exposed upper body and sweaty appearance as he cooled off in the fresh air, the man was nothing less than a robust warrior. Plenty of other soldiers trained around him, and the air was alive with endless shouts from all directions.
“Can we at least call them real soldiers now...?” Glen muttered as he observed the troops.
Bardloche’s faction had expanded its army in preparation for the decisive battle. Quality among the newcomers varied, and most were either inexperienced or weak. It was, therefore, the duty of commanding officers like Glen to make them more capable before the big day, even if only by the slightest margin. Bardloche’s fate rested in his military. Neglecting to improve these soldiers would see the war effort crumble from the inside out. Although Glen considered himself inexperienced, he couldn’t refuse an order to prepare the troops.
How much pressure will this put on them?
As a servant approached, Glen’s thoughts turned to his two troublesome friends.
“Captain Glen, you have a visitor.”
“A visitor? For me?”
“Yes, someone named Lianne is currently in the manor reception room.”
"...!"
Glen’s cheeks flushed, an exceptional rarity. Unable to contain himself, he prepared to dash off but, remembering his appearance, he changed direction. Glen grabbed a bucket from a nearby well, poured water over his head, and made for the barracks without bothering to dry.
He hurried into his private officer’s quarters, wiped himself down with a cloth, and took out a formal outfit. After quickly donning the clothes, Glen examined himself in a mirror for a second. Deciding he would suffice, he made his way to the manor beside the barracks.
Glen stood in front of the door to the reception room and took one small breath. He gave the door a light knock before opening it.
“I’m sony for the wait, Lianne!”
“Sir Glen.”
The woman’s delicate features were the veiy picture of a sheltered maiden, or perhaps a doll. However, the moment she laid eyes on Glen, she lit up, making her unmistakably human.
“You haven’t kept me waiting at all. Rather, I apologize for suddenly imposing on you like this.”
“How could I ever consider a visit from my fiancée an inconvenience?”
Glen’s family belonged to the lowest class of nobility in the Empire, and arranged marriages were a common political strategy among the aristocracy. Glen and Lianne were a typical example of this. Lianne’s and Glen’s families had decided the two would wed. Unsurprisingly, such unions often disregarded romantic feelings, but...
“Sir Glen, your hair is damp.”
“Ah, sony. I was training.”
Lianne took out a handkerchief and gently patted Glen’s hair, and the man was only too happy to allow it. If the pair’s expressions were any indication, they didn’t object to their betrothal in the least.
“So, Lianne, what brings you here today?”
The military training ground was purely a male sphere and no place for a lady like Lianne. However, Glen always welcomed a visit from his fiancée.
“Actually, I heard rumors there’s to be a large-scale battle.”
Glen wasn’t surprised. Although the anticipated clash had not been announced to the public, Bardloche’s faction was gathering as many soldiers and resources as possible. Something like that couldn’t go undetected. Anyone with the slightest intelligence could deduce that something big was about to happen.
“I’m sony for not telling you. As you’ve heard, Prince Bardloche will sortie his forces in a decisive battle against Prince Manfred and Princess Lowellmina. I will take part as well.”
“That’s...” Lianne trailed off. She was undoubtedly aware of the troubles that faced Bardloche’s faction. An omen of failure loomed in place of anticipated victoiy.
“The location hasn’t been determined yet, but the land surrounding the Imperial Capital will likely become a battlefield. You should evacuate to the countryside as soon as possible. It would help put my mind at ease.”
Glen gave Lianne a rare smile to dispel her fears as best he could. Unsurprisingly, his attempt appeared to be in vain.
“...I apologize for involving you in my family’s circumstances, Sir Glen,” Lianne muttered solemnly.
The meaning of her words was clear. Lianne belonged to a family of low-ranking aristocrats, and she had relatives among Bardloche’s top leaders. Her family and her fiancé’s had no choice but to follow Bardloche’s decisions.
However, the Second Prince’s faction was presently waning, and Lianne’s sense of obligation had her trapped on a sinking ship.
“That’s not true, Lianne.” Glen gripped her hand as he gently explained himself. “I would likely have joined Prince Bardloche regardless of your family’s situation.”
“But ..why?” she asked.
Her fiancé fell silent for a few moments. He wasn’t searching for an answer but instead for the right words. “I have friends who serve under Princess Lowellmina and Prince Manfred, respectively.”
“Friends?” she repeated with a tilt of the head. “In that case, shouldn’t you be joining one of—”
“You’d normally be right. However, we’re a bit different,” Glen explained, nostalgia entering his voice. “We’ve walked the same path, held each other’s hands, and stood side by side. There is no denying our friendship. However, we all wonder who would win if we came to blows.”
"..."
“We want to prove who is superior as well as test our limits. Thus, our best bet is to challenge those we respect, those who mutually recognize our strength. It might sound presumptuous, but that’s why I cannot say the three of us have been thrown into a civil war. In reality, we’re using it.”
Lianne blinked in astonishment, and Glen couldn’t blame her. After all, such impulsive behavior was undoubtedly difficult to comprehend. Especially since he was putting his life on the line.
“Sir Glen, do you intend to battle your two friends and win?”
“That’s right. However, the challenge won’t end there,” he said. “One of my old friends is a cut above the rest. He was outstanding even back in the old days, but he’s already shown the world his true talent in this era of unrest... Once the Empire is done fighting itself, I’ll take him on.”
Perhaps, Glen thought. We’ve always wanted his— Wein’s—approval.
Glen was well acquainted with the frustration. Wein had been watching from afar since the group’s academy days. Lowellmina and the others had surely realized as well that, while he was certainly their friend, Wein never once demonstrated a need for camaraderie.
Glen resented him. It was so humiliating. Whenever he and Wein were together, he wanted to grab the prince by the collar and shout, Notice me!
This civil unrest was the perfect opportunity. Once the Empire crowned a new ruler, it wouldn’t be long before the nation went to war with Natra. Glen’s victory over the Third Prince and Second Princess would prove that he had the skill to challenge the dragon.
“...I’m not quite sure what you mean, Sir Glen.”
Lianne’s voice was timid. “However, I can tell how much those friends mean to you. I must admit that I’m quite jealous.”
Glen chuckled quietly at the confession. “Don’t worry. They always have and always will be friends and nothing more. You’re my only love, Lianne.”
“Really? Don’t you have any female acquaintances?”
“Ah... Well, I do, but...”
"..."
Liane poked Glen’s chest standoffishly. As he contemplated a way to allay her uncomfortable protest, a knock came at the door.
“Pardon me, Captain Glen. It is almost time for your conference.”
“Understood. I’ll be there in a minute,” he answered.
After dismissing his subordinate, Glen turned back to Lianne. “I’m afraid he’s right. I wish we could talk longer, but—”
“No, your feelings are enough.” Lianne squeezed Glen’s hand. “I realize there’s not much I can do, but I will earnestly pray for your victory.”
Glen smiled and squeezed her hand back.
“Yes, leave everything to me.”
“This isn’t good at all,” Lowellmina mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes topped with a mound of whipped cream.
“Is the food not to your liking?” Fyshe asked.
“No, this is absolutely delicious. I feel invigorated,” Lowellmina said with a satisfied nod between bites. “Yes, sweets are truly nature’s nectar. This manor is certainly quite comfortable, but the menu is peculiar.”
Imperial Princess Lowellmina was currently a guest in Keskinel’s manor. Needless to say, it was his duty as Prime Minister of the Empire to show the utmost hospitality. However, Lowellmina and Keskinel’s meals together almost always included insects or a whole roast of some unfamiliar beast. He insisted each was a traditional dish from lands annexed by the Empire and claimed to dine on them regularly to understand those cultures better.
You dumb liar. You’re definitely just trying to annoy me. That’s what Lowellmina thought at first, but the way Keskinel enjoyed each dish with gusto seemed to verify his sincerity. In other words, the variety of bizarre cuisine was a heartfelt display of hospitality. The princess was hardly appreciative, however.
“If I continue to eat such fare, my stomach will turn inside out. My apologies to Keskinel, but for now, I shall satiate myself with sweets,” Lowellmina declared as she stuffed her cheeks with more pancake.
“Your Highness, I thought I should mention that you have not left the mansion in quite a while,” Fyshe remarked quietly.
“Yes, what of it?”
“And you have been eating a few too many sweets...”
"..."
Lowellmina lightly poked her stomach. It jiggled.
“Y-Your Highness! I was merely suggesting that perhaps meals are not our biggest concern!”
As Fyshe hurriedly tried to skirt the topic, Lowellmina looked up from her stomach as though nothing had happened.
“The current situation is obviously our chief priority... Fyshe, how are the enemy’s numbers?”
“To be honest, they’re rising quickly,” she replied tensely while gathering documents. “I believe Bardloche’s army totals just shy of ten thousand. We, on the other hand, have yet to reach five thousand.”
“I see. This isn’t looking good at all.”
Bardloche’s forces primarily consisted of the Empire’s most elite soldiers, while Lowellmina’s troops were mostly weak and inexperienced. If he launched a direct attack, her fighters would be trampled in an instant.
“I meant to stoke the will of the people, but forcing Bardloche’s hand was a terrible misstep...” Lowellmina groaned. Admitting her error now did no good. The situation had come to a crossroads.
“There are also those among our numbers, especially the conservatives who led Prince Demetrio’s former faction, who are watching and waiting to see how the winds of fortune blow,” Fyshe said. “Of course, we could gather more soldiers if we had more time. As to whether Bardloche’s forces will wait that long...”
For the peace-loving Lowellmina to take up arms, she needed the people’s support. Unfortunately, they hadn’t rallied behind her as much as the princess had hoped, and Bardloche’s forces were already making their move. This development naturally made Lowellmina’s side uneasy.
I thought that brother of mine would hesitate a bit more, but...
Bardloche was a boar of a warrior but also surprisingly cautious. It was a weakness Lowellmina and Manfred plotted to use to their advantages. Yet this time, he’d been more decisive than expected.
According to reports from our subordmates, resources are flowing in from the West. Soineone over there must be helping him.
At the current pace, Bardloche’s troops would attack the Imperial Capital before Lowellmina’s had a chance to assemble. Furthermore, the capital’s focus on authority and commerce meant it possessed minimal security. Even if Lowellmina concentratedsolely on defense, it wouldn’t be nearly enough.
“Your Highness, at this rate...”
“I know... Fyshe, where is Wein’s delegation now?”
“It should be approaching the northern shore of Veijyu Lake... However, given the current predicament, the group will likely slow its pace and reschedule the meeting with Eastern Levetia’s Leader.”
“In that case, please find the delegation as soon as possible. We’ll request reinforcements from Natra,” Lowellmina said.
Fyshe frowned. “Reinforcements? But geographically...”
“They won’t make it in time. But if Natra announces its plans to send help, it will inspire our soldiers and boost our numbers. Wein isn’t likely to hand over aid for free, so please use your best judgment. Time is of the essence.”
“Understood. I will depart immediately.”
Fyshe bowed, then promptly turned on her heel and left. Afterward, Lowellmina closed her eyes.
We still have a chance at victory...which is why I’m concerned about Manfred.
Lowellmina didn’t know what Strang might try. However, that crafty four-eyes was definitely up to something. Would she withstand the onslaught or be swallowed by it?
The princess fell into deeper contemplation.
When Strang returned to Manfred’s manor, he was greeted by chaos that rivaled a battlefield.
“Prince Manfred!”
“Ah. You’re back, Strang.”
Strang pushed through the bustling crowd to reach the Third Prince. Fatigue showed plainly on Manfred’s face.
“How is the situation?” he asked bluntly. Strang dropped his usual etiquette, for there was no time. The prince handed over a set of documents and proceeded to explain.
“We’ve received word that Bardloche is raising an army, and we’re presently gathering our soldiers, too. However, our faction is largely formed of provincial leaders. Assembling troops from each region will take a while.” Manfred sighed. “You predicted Bardloche would be slow to act.but it looks like you were off the mark, Strang.”
“My apologies.” Strang’s strategy had presumed the Second Prince would use discretion. He’d reported as much to his master, so a bit of chiding was deserved. “However, we are not yet beaten.”
Despite this setback, Manfred’s faction could still recover. In fact, if Strang’s current scheme played out as anticipated, victory would be assured.
“My envoy visit with Prince Wein proved invaluable. How did you fare, Your Highness?”
“We’ve managed to reach an understanding. The details will be announced shortly.”
“Excellent,” Strang replied. “Now Wein is trapped on all sides.”
“Regrettably, Natra can’t send reinforcements,” Wein explained with a grimace as Fyshe sat in wide-eyed shock across from him. He had no choice but to refuse.
You got me good, Strang...
Wein imagined his friend had to be grinning ferociously.
And so the three snakes intertwined as they rapidly slithered toward a single peak. Each hungered for victory and eyed the prize greedily, but only one could reach the top. And sure enough, the serpent to emerge triumphant was...
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