Chapter 6 - Lowellmina
The old capital of Nalthia was sacred land to the Empire. Excluding the area along the shores of Veijyu Lake, which saw lots of maritime transportation, it was normally a solemn, quiet city. However, it was presently engulfed in a storm of anarchy.
“Hold your positions! Bardloche’s army is closing in!”
Defensive units scrambled while shouts sounded from every direction. If the endless metallic clattering of soldiers outfitted in armor had somehow become the rattle of coins,the sum would bury the city in riches. Amid all this, a young woman ran to and fro, checking on the fortification progress. It was Ninym.
“Our southern defense is fine, and the western front is almost ready. The east is slightly behind schedule. I’ll check in on their statuses again later... For now, I should visit the supply point.”
A man ran up to Ninym while she mumbled to herself.
“There you are, Lady Ninym.”
“Oh, Captain Raklum,” Ninym replied upon noticing him. “Have we established a defensive chain of command?”
Raklum shook his head. “Both sides are still arguing. The guards already stationed here and the soldiers who serve Demetrio can’t seem to come to an agreement. And we lack the numbers to meddle...”
“I suppose that’s to be expected... I’ll speak with Prince Wein and Prince Demetrio to see if they can intervene.”
“That would be much appreciated. Even if both sides have been caught off guard, I shudder to think of what might happen if we went into battle without proper leadership.”
“I agree. We must be prepared for anything... What about the escape route?”
Raklum gave Ninym a firm nod. “An oarsman and boat are waiting in a storehouse to the north. If necessary, please use them to see the prince to safety. We’ll buy you enough time.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“That will depend on the other party,” Raklum replied before adopting a somewhat optimistic expression. “His Highness’s approach never fails to astound. I never imagined we’d get embroiled in something like this when we departed from Natra.”
“Yes, I didn’t expect us to interfere in such a manner either,” Ninym replied with slight exasperation. “And if we’re surprised, I can only imagine their astonishment...”
“Our scouts have returned. As we suspected, there is no question that Prince Demetrio and his men have occupied Nalthia...!”
“Ngh...”
Back at his main camp, Bardloche, sensing something odd about Nalthia, temporarily halted on the outskirts of the city and sent soldiers to investigate. Their findings confirmed the banner adorning Nalthia’s ramparts was unmistakably authentic.
“...What kind of manpower does Demetrio have?”
“We’ve received several verbal testimonies that between three to five thousand soldiers have entered the city,” one subordinate answered.
“It would come as no surprise to find fresh traces of men and horses in the surrounding area,” replied another.
An estimated five thousand soldiers.
Bardloche had been under the impression that Nalthia’s defenses were subpar, making this an unwelcome surprise. His victory was still guaranteed, but that added protection meant it wouldn’t be so easy.
“Your Highness, whatever Prince Demetrio’s motives, he is clearly only an obstacle! We should storm Nalthia immediately!”
"..."
His subordinate was right; they had very few options left. However, Bardloche also knew such actions posed an immense risk. Enough that their entire army could be wiped out if things went south.
What should I do?
Bardloche fell deeper into dismay, but his troubles weren’t over yet.
“Um, there is one other report.”
“What?! You mean there’s more...?!”
“Yes. Our investigation is still in progress, but from what we’ve heard...”
“Demetrio and Prince Wein are in Nalthia...?!”
Manfred couldn’t suppress the hoarse exclamation after hearing the news from a subordinate.
“Yes. It appears they’re working together...”
News of the First Prince’s militia occupying Nalthia had reached Manfred’s ears just as it had Bardloche’s. Worse yet, Wein had been spotted in the city as well. The Third Prince normally kept his emotions in check, but even he failed to contain his surprise over this development.
“Strang, what’s going on?!”
“I’d heard Prince Demetrio retired to the countryside, and I doubt his actions here are spontaneous. Thus, there can only be one answer.”
Wein had forced Demetrio out of isolation; Strang was certain of it. Despite the meticulous stage Strang had set, Wein had elected to stay and interfere. The man was a total eccentric, but Strang wouldn’t lose on this point either.
However, that meant the real challenge would be dealing with Wein and Demetrio.
What in the world are they after...? And how do they justify occupying Nalthia?
While Strang’s mind raced, a messenger came running.
“Pardon me! An envoy from Prince Demetrio has just arrived!”
“An envoy? What for?”
“Yes, well...”
‘“Our neighboring ally, Crown Prince Wein, and Ernesto, the Leader of Eastern Levetia, are scheduled to meet in Nalthia. Naturally, the Empire should offer its support as the host. I can’t believe you two insist on dragging out this pointless war. I’d already given up playing your game, but chose to return to make this conference happen. You’re welcome, my idiot brothers.’” Demetrio stopped and smiled. “My messengers should be delivering these very words to those fools right about now.”
“Both camps are surely in for a shock,” Wein replied with a crafty look.
The two met in a private room of a Nalthia mansion. Neither commanded the military, so they were free to relax for a bit while the generals and soldiers readied the defenses.
“I’m still surprised you pulled me back in, you know.”
“I knew I’d found the perfect pawn for the job. Besides, weren’t you just killing time in the countryside?”
The meeting with Ernesto was to be held in Nalthia.
Wein had concluded this was the only way for him to intercede. Strang had erected various safeguards to keep Wein outside the loop, but he didn’t once interfere with the prince’s plan to visit the Empire for a talk with Ernesto. Whether this was because meddling would be too much of a hassle or because Strang didn’t wish to irritate Wein further was unclear. However, Wein intended to take the utmost advantage of this conference to further his agenda.
The princes will try to take Nalthia. I should chat with Eastern Levetia and Prune Minister Keskinel and establish the city as our meetup, Wein had reasoned before meeting with Prince Demetrio.
Eastern Levetia had been easy enough to convince. A deep rift had formed between the religion and Bardloche’s faction after the former had vilified the latter. Eastern Levetia would take Lowellmina or Manfred over Bardloche any day. Wein had imagined Ernesto would happily agree to a meeting in Nalthia if it meant getting in the Second Prince’s way.
However, Wein understood that Eastern Levetia had little to offer in the way of tangible support.
His current delegation was lean, and Eastern Levetia couldn’t mobilize an immense force. Bardloche or Manfred could storm the city to cut the conference short.
Thus, Wein had coaxed Demetrio out of his seclusion. The First Prince previously suffered a political defeat, but he still held favor with the Empire’s conservatives. If Demetrio hosted this meetup, Wein could tap his supporters for assistance. To that end, he’d contacted the ousted prince and made his request.
“Hmph. I may have been defeated, but you still show tremendous insolence by daring to treat a prince of the Empire like a pawn,” Demetrio scoffed. He didn’t look too upset, though. “Very well, then. It will please me greatly to make my foolish brothers turn red with fury. Still, it’s unfortunate I can’t witness the sight firsthand.”
“Imagination is all you need. If you witnessed it directly, your sides might split.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Good point!”
Demetrio burst out laughing, and Wein threw him a sidelong glance as he pondered.
I’m kind of surprised that Keskmel agreed so easily.
Anyone else would have demanded Wein cancel the event. This was to be a banquet with a foreign guest of honor in the middle of a war zone, after all.
Of course, Wein had a more forceful second plan in case the first one didn’t pan out. Yet the key players accepted his proposal almost immediately. It was nearly unsettling.
I always knew Keskinel was a shrewd guy... but it looks tike things are about to get a lot more interesting.
Although the final battle between the Imperial siblings loomed, that didn’t excuse the long list of daily tasks that demanded attention. Keskinel continued to oversee his desk work as Prime Minister while he prepared for the reports that would stream in during the upcoming battle.
“...Are you sure about this, Prime Minister?”
“What do you mean?” Keskinel asked without taking his eyes off his work. The aide proceeded to clarify.
“I am referring to this meeting between Prince Wein and His Grace Ernesto. Why would they wish to hold it in Nalthia now of all times? And with Prince Demetrio playing the host, no less.”
“I don’t see the issue,” Keskinel replied, dismissing his subordinate’s concern. “The conference between Prince Wein and His Grace was scheduled beforehand. If anything, we ought to reexamine our ineptitude if a simple visit from an esteemed foreign guest rattles us so.”
“Y-yes, but...”
“In addition, Nalthia will be the venue. It is the Empire’s symbol of authority, and the other party must show due respect. I would have preferred to oversee the meeting myself, but Prince Wein has already designated Prince Demetrio. The two share close ties, and if the First Prince has accepted, then I have no objections.”
Keskinel’s response made sense. Normally, no one would bat an eye if Demetrio oversaw a meeting between Wein and Ernesto in Nalthia. Of course, this could hardly be called “normal.”
“Prime Minister, sir, Nalthia is a literal war zone!” the subordinate exclaimed.
“The Imperial children are merely acting on their whims,” Keskinel answered bluntly. “The Empire is unrelated and must continue to work as a cohesive unit. Dissension has weakened our realm and tarnished our authority. This decision will not mar my internal neutrality in the slightest.”
Keskinel’s declaration silenced the other man. The Imperial Prime Minister gave a tiny smile.
“Of course, that isn’t to say my choice will have no effect on the fight for succession. I’m unsure how each royal will make the most of this rare opportunity, but strength is born through adversity.”
“Your Excellency...”
“Don’t worry, we still have time before the birth of a new, glorious Emperor.”
“Grahh...!”
Bardloche groused outside the old capital. Demetrio had seized the city and insisted he was only there for a meeting. He even claimed the increased security was meant to ensure everything went off without a hitch despite the volatile environment. He also insisted he lacked any political motives.
Don’t screw with me, you idiot. Bardloche cursed his elder sibling a thousand times over. This was clearly meant to thwart his advance on Nalthia, regardless of whatever spin Demetrio put on it.
Still, there was one thing Bardloche couldn’t understand. Close investigation revealed that a majority of Nalthia’s forces consisted of conservatives originally loyal to Demetrio. However, they should have allied with Lowellmina upon his defeat.
There was a possibility that while Demetrio’s banner hung from the ramparts, he was actually a part of Lowellmina’s army. However, Bardloche also heard that the conservatives and Lowellmina were at odds with each other. It was likely they’d deserted her and returned to Demetrio. The princess was Bardloche’s enemy, no question, but the First Prince might be open to a united front.
That being said, the other side offered no indication of movement. Was Demetrio waiting for the right opportunity, or did he believe there was no value in an alliance with Bardloche?
The Second Prince wished to charge in and pummel all his opponents indiscriminately, but that wasn’t an option.
Keskinel has approved of this meeting in Nalthia. Demetrio's forces are keepmg on the defensive. If I get rough now and throw Nalthia into the heat of battle, my army willfall!
Ever since Bardloche’s faction contacted the West, Eastern Levetia had considered it a bitter foe. Bardloche had colluded with the West, but only his most trusted advisors were privy to that information. The prince assured everyone else that it was baseless political slander cooked up by Manfred. That put Bardloche’s soldiers on the side of justice and maintained morale. However, if Bardloche ordered an attack upon the Empire’s symbol of authority, and the truth about his dealings came to light, his troops’ confidence would plummet.
If either Manfred or Lowellmina had occupied Nalthia, Bardloche would still have had cause to strike. But Demetrio, who’d already dropped out of the fight for the throne, insisted his only intention was to host a meeting. Although infuriating, Bardloche had no legitimate excuse to interfere. He needed some kind of political maneuver, but such tactics weren’t up his faction’s alley.
But even if I leave Nalthia alone and head for the capital, I’ll still have the threat of Demetrio's and Manfred’s armies on my heels! Manfred might walk straight into Nalthia and announce his purification ceremony to the whole Empire! And if he does, I’m done for!
Bardloche couldn’t attack Nalthia or leave it alone. The prince’s do-or-die attitude wavered. He was struck by uncertainty, and that hesitation sealed his fate.
“I have a report! Troops have been sighted in the south! They bear the flag of Princess Lowellmina!”
The princess, who’d been preparing for battle in the capital, suddenly sprang into action.
Lowellmina had been aware of the plan since Fyshe returned with a letter from Wein.
“...What?” she’d breathed. It was hard to believe he’d try to draw Demetrio out. However, the princess was equally formidable; she’d quickly recovered and reviewed Wein’s plan.
It’s not...entirely impossible.
There had been four deciding factors.
The first had been whether or not they could convince Demetrio. However, there was no question Wein would succeed. Lowellmina knew those two shared an odd connection that wasn’t quite friendship, perhaps owing to their previous collaboration. If anyone could persuade Demetrio, it was Wein.
Next was Keskinel. Lowellmina and Wein had needed the Prime Minister’s permission to hold a meeting in Nalthia. However, Lowellmina hadn’t worried about this. Keskinel harbored a peculiar value system, and since plans for a conference had always been on the table, he’d had every reason to approve. And if the Prime Minister gave his blessing, there was no question the third factor, Eastern Levetia, would follow suit. After all, it had requested the meetup be held in the Empire in the first place. The conference had nearly been canceled because of the recent chaos, but the Church would attend so long as the other parties showed they could hold their ground.
Of course, there would be no actual meeting in a war zone. Wein was merely borrowing everyone’s credibility.
The final obstacle was the biggest—the troops protecting Nalthia.
Since Lowellmina had been busy assembling her own forces, she couldn’t spare any elsewhere. Furthermore, this task, at least on the surface, was meant to protect those holding the Empire’s most important and simultaneously carefree meeting. The majority of Lowellmina’s soldiers were outraged volunteers who lamented the Empire’s future. She couldn’t send them.
Then, the conservatives in Lowellmina’s faction caught Wein’s eye. They’d originally belonged to Demetrio’s faction, so it made sense to believe they would be eager to return to their former master.
Still, this won’t be easy, Lowellmina had thought.
The conservatives were lazy and had already disregarded her own request for troops. Demetrio was their old master, plus there was nothing to be gained by returning to him. If their current liege couldn’t control them, what hope did the previous one have?
Shortly after Lowellmina had this notion, the conservatives rushed over to Nalthia.
“Huh?”
Lowellmina had been furious.
“Y-Your Highness, please calm yourself.”
“I haven’t lost my cool. I simply cannot help but wonder why they are suddenly compliant even though everyone made excuses and wouldn’t listen to a single word I said before, but I assure you I am perfectly calm.”
After Fyshe had consoled Lowellmina and she had regained her composure, she returned to theorizing on how Wein’s plan would operate.
“Prepare a letter, Fyshe. There’s something I want you to deliver in secret.”
“Yes, right away.”
Lowellmina had reached her conclusion.
“It’s time to make my debut. This victory shall be mine.”
Lowellmina’s army boasted about eight thousand soldiers. The majority were volunteers who admired the princess, decried the princes as good-for-nothings, and held a sense of righteous indignation against the West. Less than half were formally trained. One could easily label them rank-and-file troops who possessed the bare minimum amount of discipline or skill.
However, their spirits were unmatched. No one, from the lowest soldier to the most elite veteran, doubted their cause, and Lowellmina took direct command. Everyone was determined to demonstrate their valor to the radiant princess.
Bardloche’s legion totaled ten thousand; each soldier was a hardened veteran who understood the art of war like the back of their hand. They were prepared to overtake the enemy in a direct confrontation. Their morale, however, was terrible. Bardloche’s troops had been branded traitors, and the sudden occupation of Nalthia prevented them from acting. In the meantime, Lowellmina’s forces had appeared before Bardloche’s while Demetrio’s took the capital from behind.
Moreover, Manfred’s militia of approximately ten thousand had kept its distance while entering the battle between Bardloche and Lowellmina’s units. Instead of launching an immediate attack on Bardloche, it carefully sealed off his escape routes. Manfred’s forces’ morale and tactical expertise were palpable.
Still, for all their cunning, the Third Prince’s soldiers had been assembled by provincial leaders. Each fought for their own home, and their level of discipline depended on the tide of the fight.
“So, who will reign victorious?” Wein mumbled as he considered the chaos that threatened to erupt outside the city.
Demetrio shot him a questioning look. “Even you don’t know?”
“There are several invisible factors at work here.”
“Hmm... Well, so long as everything works out as we discussed, that’s enough for me,” the First Prince said. “Prince Wein, are you certain this will bridge the gap between the conservatives and Lowellmina?”
“Yes, you can rest assured on that point.”
How can I pull Demetrio out of his seclusion and back on the world stage?
Wein had wrestled with this issue in the hope of occupying Nalthia. Demetrio had withdrawn from the squabble for Emperor quietly. Even if Wein had tried to lure the First Prince back with money or another shot at the throne, there was a good chance it would only dissuade him and bring everything to a screeching halt. Wein had then turned his focus to the tension between Lowellmina and the conservatives.
They’ve been at odds from the start. The conservatives won’t accept an Empress. Their group would unravel if any of them did.
This was the dilemma among conservatives. As the name implied, the organization honored history and tradition. Readily accepting the rule of a trailblazer like Lowellmina would undermine that reputation. Still, its members weren’t oblivious to reality. The conservatives had previously revolted against Bardloche and Manfred and understood it was far too late to join either. Their best option was to support Lowellmina as Empress while protecting their interests.
And so the conservatives had continued to search for a compromise, a way to serve Lowellmina while remaining true to their convictions, if only by the bare minimum.
Then came the proposal for Demetrio’s return.
“The conservatives have valiantly come to assist their former master, Prince Demetrio. Moved by this unauthorized yet touching gesture, Lowellmina will magnanimously forgive them and thereby earn their respect. This way, both sides can finally have a real working relationship.”
Serving Lowellmina had few downsides, and she could handle the conservatives even after this minor betrayal.
“I see...” Demetrio said softly. “I really couldn’t do anything for them. If it will put the issue to rest, that’s fine by me.”
The conservatives had supported Demetrio’s bid for Emperor, but his shortcomings had cost them a bright future. The prince undoubtedly still had misgivings on the matter, but he’d swallowed his pride, accepted Wein’s offer, and returned to the spotlight.
“Once this is all over, I’m going to live freely with my wife and child.”
Wein’s shoulders twitched. “...You have a child?”
Demetrio nodded shyly. “Yeah. I dismissed all my concubines when I went into isolation, but one insisted on joining me. Then...well, we had a child together.”
“...Hmm, yes, I see.”
“I meant to leave everything to a wet nurse, but my little one is just too cute for words. My wife scolds me for hovering.”
“Hmm! Yes! I see!”
“What’s wrong, Prince Wein? You seem agitated.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s not like I’m thinking, ‘Look at this lucky bastard living the quiet life with his beloved’ or anything, so don’t mind me!” Wein grumbled like the poor sport he was.
“Your Highness!”
A flustered messenger dashed over.
“The soldiers outside are on the move!”
“So the time has finally come.”
Demetrio gave a solemn nod, and Wein responded to the report with a question.
“Who made the first move?”
“Bardloche!” the man replied.
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