Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 12 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Night before the War

A week had passed since Count Salzberg received Ryoma’s letter. It was a declaration of war, and Salzberg had resolved to fight him directly. As such, he was gathering armies to Epirus.

A thick layer of leaden clouds blotted out the afternoon sky. A force of cavaliers clad in metal armor rode down the western highway, kicking up dust in their wake. Unfortunately for them, rain began pelting down in big fat drops. The large-built man leading the group sat atop a black horse and glared up at the gray sky. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

The highway they were on led from the Bertrand barony to the citadel city of Epirus. The man yanked on the reins, prompting the horse to stop, and looked around. All he saw were pastures. There wasn’t anything that could offer them shelter from the rain, except for a few trees standing pathetically at the roadside. He was leading a group of over a hundred men; those few trees wouldn’t cover even half of them. Whoever had to stand outside of them would be drenched.

“Tch, it looks like the rain’s only going to get heavier,” he grumbled, spitting at the ground bitterly. “It’s annoying enough that old Salzberg pretty much twisted our arm into helping him with this war. Now the weather’s trying to ruin our day too.”

He then turned around and shouted at the rest of his men. “All forces, halt! No point catching cold before a major battle! It’s a bit early, but we set up camp here for the day.”

The man’s name was Robert Bertrand, the second son of the Bertrand barony. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, but his menacing aura made him seem ten years older. He gave the impression that he was a virile, dangerous man, and the scar carved into his right cheek was exceptionally eye-catching.

His limbs were toned and thick, and he was twice as large as any of the knights riding behind him. From his appearance, most people would assume he was some kind of brigand or mercenary. Appearances were deceiving, though. Robert was the natural enemy to all manner of bandits and thieves.

“Hey! Someone get me some booze!” Robert barked at his subordinates, who were beginning to set up camp.

Alcohol was customary in war, so the logistics carriage had bottles of liquor set aside. But the soldiers currently working on the campsite wouldn’t have any alcohol on them. Robert knew this and wouldn’t usually make this demand of them. He must have been quite moody and felt he couldn’t keep going without a drink.

As if reading Robert’s mind, a white-bearded knight approached him. He always had a bottle of ale attached to his horse’s saddle, just in case. Robert would complain that he wanted a drink every time he left the barony, so the old knight knew how to placate him.

“Here you are,” the old knight said as he offered Robert the bottle.

For a moment, Robert looked displeased. He’d made an unreasonable demand, but seeing someone actually respond to it annoyed him. He wordlessly took the bottle, uncorked it, and took a swig.

Robert did act like some kind of bandit. His behavior wasn’t befitting of a knight. But despite this, the old knight knew better than to say anything needless. Doing so now would only annoy and anger Robert. At worst, Robert would leave his army behind altogether and look for the closest brothel. That would destroy the Bertrand barony.

I swear. Sir Robert can be a handful sometimes.

Robert Bertrand had something of a troublesome personality. Once he’d decided to do something, he would do it no matter what. Perhaps he just had a one-track mind, but he lacked the personality necessary for a noble. That was a definite flaw, though an intentional one.

Robert was a very irritable person. Despite that, he was aware of the circumstances around him and knew to remain focused on the main goal. That was why he was so conflicted at times like these. It made him difficult to deal with. He knew how to read the room, but for some reason he didn’t. His unruly behavior couldn’t be ignored, of course, but his biggest flaw was his timing.

I should admonish him for this, but it can wait until we get to Epirus. For now, I should handle this delicately.

The old knight had to at least prevent Robert from saying something that might offend Count Salzberg. There were no outsiders here, so even if Robert were to let his frustrations show, only the grass growing at his feet would know. But if he were to say anything like that in Epirus, the core of the Salzberg barony, it would be terrible. It was better that Robert let out steam here, on this empty highway, than there.

There was one man present, however, who ignored the old knight’s attempts at consideration. Baron Bertrand had personally assigned Cidney O’Donnell to oversee Robert in this dispatch. As soon as he saw Robert drinking on the job, he began rudely admonishing him.

“Sir Robert, believe me, I understand how you feel. Count Salzberg may have ordered us to do this, but we’re still only to assist him. And given that the enemy is some upstart baron, the outcome of this war is already quite clear. But while I do understand your frustrations, I must ask you to exercise patience here. All ten houses of the north are dispatching their soldiers. If House Bertrand were to directly refuse to help Count Salzberg, it would place us all at risk.”

Anger streaked across Robert’s features.

Cidney wasn’t wrong—assuming that Robert wanted to maintain his family’s standing. Rhoadseria’s northern territories were governed by ten nobles—the ten houses of the north. Of those ten houses, House Salzberg was the only one to have the rank of count. It also controlled the citadel city of Epirus, a large army, and vast wealth. Because of this, House Salzberg had functioned as northern Rhoadseria’s leader since the country’s founding. The heads of House Salzberg had served as the crux of Rhoadseria’s northern defense throughout history.

The royal family had even granted it special jurisdiction out of consideration for its position. In the event that a foreign army marched on the country, House Salzberg had the authority to call on the ten houses of the north for reinforcements, as well as command knights dispatched from the capital. In other words, when it came to military affairs, House Salzberg was as good as the sovereign. Even during the nobles’ faction’s heyday, Duke Gelhart knew better than to try and make a move on House Salzberg.

Therein lay the reason that, despite being part of the Bertrand barony, Robert was known as one of Count Salzberg’s Twin Blades. A mere baron couldn’t refuse someone as powerful as Count Salzberg. Doing so would be suicide. Robert knew this perfectly well.

“Well, it was his shitty attitude, how he expects people to just bow down and comply with his every shitty order, that made Baron Mikoshiba rebel, wasn’t it?!” Robert hollered at Cidney. “Butting heads with another noble when the country’s falling apart... That’s why I’m against this! But my father and brother have to gang up on me, prattling on about how it’s the barony’s duty, a noble’s pride and so on... In the end, we just pissed someone off and encouraged him to start a war with us!”

For an angry outburst, Robert was being quite reasonable. But to Cidney, a sneering overseer, logical arguments held no meaning.

“It may be disrespectful of me to say this, but Baron Mikoshiba is nothing more than a status seeker who stumbled into success. As they say, the nail that sticks out gets hammered. Besides, we don’t know that we’re just a supportive army this time around. The Wortenia Peninsula has proved more lucrative than we thought, so we may be rewarded quite handsomely for our assistance.”

Cidney’s statement dripped with greed, unfit for a soldier, yet the other knights were secretly craving that outcome too.

Robert scoffed at Cidney and then grinned. “I guess that’s what a dignified knight of House Bertrand amounts to. Real classy,” he said, his voice thick with irony.

Cidney didn’t seem the slightest bit annoyed, though. “Such is the way of the world. A knight’s honor doesn’t put food on the table. And regardless of how things came to be, Count Salzberg didn’t start this war. I ask that you keep this in mind.”

“So you’re saying that if someone falls for a taunt, it’s all their fault, huh?” Robert asked with a sneer.

Cidney said nothing. He simply bowed and turned to leave. Apparently, he had already said his piece.

What a buzzkill.

Watching him leave, Robert tossed the bottle behind him.

Ryoma’s demands weren’t unreasonable. For those in power, spies and secret operatives were essentially thieves that stole valuable information and intelligence. They could also function as assassins or saboteurs. They were nothing but insects that ravaged the garden. Sending them into another’s territory did look rather damning. True, this was a war-torn world, so it was normal for nobles to send spies to look into other nobles. But that didn’t mean that discovering spies within your territory was any less unpleasant.

Mikoshiba has the moral high ground, but...

Robert thought Ryoma’s demands were sensible. The problem was that this battle was between a baron and a count. They were both nobles and members of the ruling class, but there were ranks within the aristocracy. Unless something very unusual happened, the higher rank would usually win in a disagreement.

In the end, the real facts didn’t matter. What mattered was how many people one could gather to back their claims. Between a mere baron and the leader of the ten houses of the north, it went without saying who would win.

That’s why my father and brother obey Count Salzberg, like Cidney said. Especially now that the Wortenia Peninsula turned out to be a mountain of treasure.

For better or worse, nobles sought to expand their territory and wealth. They had to retain the honor of their family names at all costs. So whenever they found the right prey, they would swarm over it like hyenas. They would threaten, coax, and bribe to get their way. And a weak baron was the easiest, most appetizing prey they could find. No one would sympathize with or spare Ryoma.

But, wait... I see. There’s a chance they intentionally provoked Ryoma to declare war. I wouldn’t put it past those vultures.

By constantly sending spies into Ryoma’s territory, they increased his anger. And once he lashed out in retribution, they would crush him with military strength. All that would remain would be the Wortenia Peninsula, with its commercial port that had suddenly become much more valuable. Rights to it would be split among the surrounding nobles.

Robert didn’t have any proof to back up his hypothesis, but he felt as if the outlines of this conflict were becoming more clear.

Ryoma was loathed by most of Rhoadseria’s nobles. He was a vagabond who came out of nowhere, he had been lucky enough to win the civil war somehow, and he had been elevated to noble status without regard for the class system. Still, the other nobles would have overlooked him if he’d lived modestly in his domain. However, Ryoma had developed the Wortenia Peninsula, an otherwise useless lot, into an economic power. The nobles, fixated on their superiority, couldn’t sit quietly by and leave him be.

But who planned this, then?

As far as Robert knew, his father and brother weren’t crafty enough to come up with a plan on that scale. At best, they’d just wag their tails at Count Salzberg and beg for leftovers. They were greedy; the only things they cared for were extorting their people and living luxuriously. They had no experience on the battlefield.

What about old Salzberg? No, this doesn’t feel like something he’d plan. Was it that evil woman, Yulia?

As soon as that thought came to mind, Robert denied it at once.

No. Lady Yulia is skilled with finances, but I’ve never heard of her scheming like this. She could be more capable than she lets on, but still... Was it someone from the ten houses of the north, then?

Robert thought back to the heads of the ten houses of the north and their close aides. He thought any one of them could be behind the whole affair. Robert was, in fact, mistaken about that, but he knew how corrupt the nobles could be. His suspicion wasn’t all that surprising.

I can look for the culprit some other time. But whoever came up with this pulled one nasty trick. I guess they really can’t tolerate Ryoma’s success.

With that in mind, Robert entered his tent, seeking refuge from the intensifying rain.

♱

A few days later, two armies met where the roads extending from the southeast and southwest of Epirus connected.

“Sir Robert, please look over there,” the old knight said after receiving a report from the scouts.

Robert looked in the direction the old knight pointed. There was an army marching down the opposite highway, heading their way. At first the army was only a dot in the distance, but it gradually grew big enough for their banner to be visible.

“A golden eagle spreading its wings against a red background... That’s the Galveria barony,” Robert said, a smile spreading across his lips.

That was the banner of the man who had fought at Robert’s side countless times already. He wouldn’t mistake that flag.

“All forces, halt!” Robert ordered.

Since the highways were built for armies to march along them, they were fairly wide, but they weren’t wide enough for two armies at once. They would need to coordinate which army would march ahead first.

“We wait for a while,” he told the old knight riding at his side before prompting his horse to march forward.

Normally, a commander like Robert wouldn’t need to negotiate this personally, but he knew what he was doing. The other army’s commander realized Robert’s intentions and rode ahead.

“I figured it’d be you leading this army,” Robert said. “It’s been a while, Signus.”

Signus met him with a toothy grin. He got off his horse and raised his hands.

“Same here, Robert Bertrand. It’s good to see your ugly mug.”

“Shut up, you reject. They still feeding you scraps back in your barony?”

“I could ask you the same thing!”

Though they were hurling insults, they threw their arms around each other.

“I think it’s been what, two... Has it been three years since we last saw each other face-to-face?” Signus asked.

“Yeah, I think it was when they sent us to resolve that border skirmish with Helnesgoula,” Robert said with a sigh. He then tapped his fist against Signus’s chest, an ironic smile on his lips. “Well, can’t do much about that. We’re both excess baggage for our baronies, right?”

“From the way you’re talking, I’m guessing nothing’s changed on your end, eh?” Signus asked.

“Nope, my brother’s been putting me through the wringer. What about you?”

“Same as ever. My stepmother hates me; my father ignores me. It feels like they want to hide the fact I exist. They wouldn’t have even sent me out this time if Count Salzberg hadn’t insisted I come along.”

Unlike firstborn sons, who were the heirs to their houses, second and third sons were only valuable as backups in case something happened to their older brother. So long as nothing happened, their families had no use for them. This meant that the first born was treated much better than the second and third sons. As a sixth son and a bastard child, Signus was that much worse off. His position naturally meant he would be treated horribly—not that he was the only one being treated badly.

Robert’s brother, Rosen, already had a wife, a son, and a daughter. Robert was even less valuable as his spare. He was rarely called to any social events with other nobles. When he was, it was only to fill out the dinner table. Had it not been for his extraordinary martial feats, Robert would have been demoted to a subject of House Bertrand. Either that, or he would have left his family and sought his fortune on his own.

“Doesn’t look like much changed in your family either, Robert,” Signus said.

“But you’re not faring much better, are you?”

Signus nodded, looking resigned. Robert and he were in similar positions. They had been born to families that were by no means affluent. Neither of them was the firstborn, so they were shunned as outsiders within their own households. In addition, their talent for combat kept them from breaking free of their families. The similarity between them was uncanny.

“It’s not like we can do anything about it.”

“I suppose...”

Neither of them liked that their families took advantage of them. Still, the only real way out would be to slay their families and usurp control over their households. They could do it too. Both Robert and Signus looked like men made of flesh and blood, but their martial prowess bordered on superhuman. But for as coldly as their families treated them, they couldn’t say they felt no attachment to their relatives, to say nothing of killing them.

“Oh, well. We can’t keep chatting here forever,” Signus said, turning around to return to his horse. “Let’s handle this for now.” He then threw a glance at Robert over his shoulder. “Let’s have a drink when we get to Epirus, eh? We’ve got catching up to do.”

“Yeah, got it,” Robert said, nodding. “But you’re paying for it.”

Signus smiled and nodded back at him. “Fine. You get one mug on me.”

Both got on their horses.

“See you in Epirus, then!”

“In Epirus!”

After he saw his old friend off, Robert turned around.

♱

On the second floor of an inn, not far from the gates of Epirus, a man gazed out the window, glaring at the streets below as he reported the situation to his superior. Said superior was reclining in his chair.

“Another army crossed the gates, Lord Jinnai. They bear the banner of a golden eagle over a red background.”

“Hm, an eagle... The Galveria barony. How many men did they bring?” Jinnai asked calmly, puffing on a silver pipe said to have been passed down from the Igasaki clan’s ancestors when they were first summoned centuries ago.

Jinnai Igasaki had a round face that suited a merchant more than a ninja. But there was a dangerous glint to his narrow eyes that revealed how lethal he was.

“Roughly a hundred cavaliers,” the other man answered unflinchingly.

As part of the Igasaki clan, this man had mastered the arts of assassination, sabotage, and a host of others skills. But of all the tasks required of a shinobi, this man was most skilled at gathering intelligence in anticipation of battle. He would infiltrate the enemy’s ranks and inform his masters of the size of enemy forces. He had inevitably learned how to estimate the enemy’s numbers just by looking at them.

“Cavaliers... So it’s just knights?”

“Yes. They’re all knights in full armor.”

As he tipped his pipe to knock away the ashes, Jinnai smiled. “I see. So Baron Galveria sent the smallest forces he could without relying on conscripted peasants.”

“They’re probably wary of the uprising,” the man said.

“I’d imagine they are.” Jinnai nodded, satisfied. He then took out some fresh tobacco from his pocket. “They’re not stupid enough to conscript their peasants with revolts breaking out in every corner of the kingdom.”

Seven of the ten houses sent their forces to Epirus, which comes up to over a thousand knights.

With the exception of the governor of Epirus, Count Salzberg, that left just two more houses. Typically, nobles had their own private armies. On the surface, nobles were under the absolute authority of the crown. But since they were granted the right to autonomously govern their lands, they needed some sort of military power to enact their authority.

After all, the areas outside of their fences and trenches weren’t under any control. Monsters could threaten people at any time there, and criminals or bandits driven out of town could prey on the weak. Survival of the fittest ruled the areas outside the city boundaries. Not even a city surrounded by firm walls, like Epirus, was perfectly safe. Dragons, or monsters of similar rank, could easily descend upon it if they felt so inclined.

Though their defenses were imperfect, cities that were safe and affluent influenced the economy. People gathered in safe places, and where people went, goods would follow. Security encouraged people to engage in commerce. Anyone would prefer to live in a safe city where they didn’t need to lock their doors than a place where they feared being mugged every day.

The problem was that commoners typically weren’t allowed to freely migrate between cities. Except for special circumstances, like marriage, a considerable tax was required to move between cities.

But even if it meant paying a tax, people wanted to live under a governor who took care to maintain the public order. The influential merchants particularly felt that way. Poor public order impacted business negatively, which meant merchants naturally gravitated to more secure cities. Unlike farmers, who were bound to their lands, merchants could move fairly easily to safer cities, so long as they had the money to pay the tax.

In order to counter the threats looming outside the cities and stimulate the finances in their territories, governors worked on reinforcing their military strength, particularly by hiring knights. But that didn’t mean they blindly appointed people to the rank of knight.

Nobles possessing vast military strength weren’t a good thing for the royal family. That made them latent threats that could one day oppose the throne. The royal family couldn’t afford to ignore a potential enemy. However, the sovereign didn’t deny the nobles the right to an army altogether. If a neighboring country were to invade the kingdom, and the army was united under the sovereign, the kingdom could take considerable losses before the royal army even reached the battlefield. With that in mind, it was necessary for the nobles to have their own armies.

It was a delicate balance. The nobles needed an appropriately large military force, but not so large as to draw unwanted attention from the sovereign. This was why the nobles limited their standing army to only knights and officers and filled in the blanks with conscripted commoners when needed. That made things easier to control. It was like how a large corporation might rely on temporary employees or outsourcing.

The average baron in Rhoadseria typically had 50 to 100 knights and could conscript around 500 more troops. A viscount had 150 to 200 knights and 1,000 conscripts. A count had 300 knights and between 2,000 to 3,000 conscripts. This was only a rough estimate, though. It all depended on the size and condition of the territory. Since the ten houses were charged with protecting the northern borders, they had larger military forces. House Salzberg alone had over 500 knights.

Whatever the actual number was, Jinnai and the other man now had a rough idea of what the ten houses of the north were planning.

The fact that they only dispatched their knights means each house is feeling unsure of their domain’s public order. If they didn’t have any problems, they’d conscript every soldier they could.

For all the ten houses were concerned, they were up against a single upstart baron. If all ten houses consolidated their armies, they’d have over ten thousand conscripted commoners. Their victory would be assured. But despite this, they only sent their knights to Epirus. Their intentions were clear.

Like ants flocking to honey...

For years, the Wortenia Peninsula was known as an undesirable, unprofitable frontier. But once Ryoma Mikoshiba took over as governor, things changed, especially once he established trade relations with Helnesgoula and the other countries. It had become a profitable strip of land.

Any of the ten houses who sent troops to Count Salzberg were guaranteed a place at the bargaining table once they’d won the war. The question was how the land would be divided. Since it would be split among all ten houses, each share would be small. It was similar to a horse race where everyone bet on a winning horse. The more gamblers at the table, the smaller the winnings. If one wanted to profit knowing the winnings would be slim, they’d need to up the stakes.

Everything is going as my lord planned. I can see why Gennou is so taken with him.

Given the class system, it wasn’t out of sympathy that the nobles didn’t conscript the commoners—not when they stood to profit so much from winning. If they wanted to get the most out of this war, they should have conscripted as many soldiers as they could and thrown everything they had at Ryoma. But they didn’t. The unrest in Rhoadseria wouldn’t allow it, and they were fearful of the consequences.

My lord has foreseen everything so far. When Gennou said he found someone who might inherit the founder’s will, I suspected he’d gone completely mad, but...

Jinnai lit the pipe again and took a deep puff, but his moment of bliss was soon disturbed. The eyes of the man looking out the window settled on a knight leading the forces.

“Sir! I think that man is Signus Galveria.”

Jinnai’s eyes narrowed sharply, like a serpent that had spotted its prey.

“Galveria of the east... When we investigated House Galveria, I thought the chances of him coming this time were about fifty-fifty. But I suppose it makes sense that Count Salzberg would gather his strongest knights.”

On Ryoma’s order, the Igasaki clan had investigated the internal affairs of each of the ten houses.

“House Bertrand of the west will have surely sent Robert.”

Each of the ten houses was a prime source of strength for Count Salzberg, but among all of them, Houses Bertrand and Galveria were exceptionally powerful. They were his rooks on this proverbial chess board. Both houses had unremarkable territories, but one thing set them apart from the other houses.

“Count Salzberg’s Twin Blades... Good. Let’s see how they fare. I’m curious if the rumors have any truth to them,” Jinnai whispered with an indomitable smile.

♱

That night, Count Salzberg held a grand feast at his estate. His cooks used rare, fragrant ingredients for the food, and his sommeliers uncorked bottles of expensive wine, the likes of which were hard to come by even for a noble.

As the leader of the northern alliance, and the one who beckoned them to this war, Count Salzberg was a gracious host to his guests. The only drawback was that there were hardly any women around. War loomed ahead, so this wasn’t an ordinary evening party; the participants’ wives and daughters couldn’t attend.

Well, even if there were any young noble ladies here, they wouldn’t want my company.

Cursing his lot in life, Robert Bertrand brought a piece of pheasant to his lips. If he were the first son and to inherit his family’s headship, the nobles present would be much more interested in deepening their friendship with him. But he wasn’t, and none of the other families cared about him.

Robert himself had no aspirations to take over his house, but those around him didn’t see it that way. His older brother was more of a scholar, lacking in martial abilities, and he regarded Robert’s position with bitter suspicion. House Bertrand valued martial might, so this caused some friction between the two. Rosen Bertrand wasn’t going to let his younger brother inherit the house instead of him.

This was the hand life dealt Robert as Rosen’s younger brother, but Robert couldn’t stand that he was suffering for it. He especially disliked that it was only at times like these that he was called upon and forced to serve a family that treated him awfully.

“And he’s pouring all the money he can into these parties, like always. Shit, this is all stuff I’d never eat at home. Hey, can you fill me up?”

Having gulped down the wine in his glass, Robert asked a nearby maid for a refill. All he cared for here was the food and drink, but what else was he supposed to focus on?

She’s got a good butt, at least. I’d like to see what she’s like in bed, Robert thought to himself as he watched the maid walk off after filling his glass. Of course, he didn’t have the nerve to follow through with that thought. All the maids waiting on them were pretty girls, but rumor had it that Count Salzberg had had his way with each and every one of them. Because of that, no noble was brazen enough to make a pass at them.

As Robert downed the wine like cheap booze, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“I see your drinking habits haven’t changed.”

Robert knew immediately who it was, and he hurriedly turned around and bowed his head politely.

“Count Salzberg. It’s been a long while, milord.”

Robert greeted Count Salzberg with the etiquette expected of a noble. When Count Salzberg wasn’t around to hear it, Robert would call him “Old Salzberg” or even “shitty old man” whenever he was in a foul mood. Yet those same lips addressed the count respectfully now. Anyone who knew what Robert was usually like would probably be stunned. Even a brusque contrarian like him knew to behave himself when the situation called for it. His standards for what those situations were just happened to be a bit different than everyone else’s.

“Yes, I see you’re enjoying yourself. That’s good,” Count Salzberg said, eyeing Robert’s plate loaded with food. There was something disapproving in his expression and tone of voice, as if he were criticizing Robert’s lack of dignity.

“Yes, it’s all things I could never have at home,” Robert said, picking up a piece of ham and munching on it with his wine. “I plan to enjoy it while I can.”

He wasn’t lying about that. The Bertrand barony wasn’t so bad off that they lived in squalor, but they were fundamentally poor nobles. And since he was the second son and not the heir, he was even worse off.

“You do seem to be in good health,” Count Salzberg said with an ironic smile. “Well, if you fight well in this war, I’ll see to it you’re fed as well as you’d like. Put everything you have into this.”

There were undertones of shock, disdain, and exasperation in Count Salzberg’s words, but the fact that he went out of his way to speak to Robert showed that the count didn’t take Robert’s strength for granted. In fact, he and Signus were Count Salzberg’s most powerful pawns in this war.

Count Salzberg was a warrior, and he believed himself the strongest warrior in Rhoadseria, but even he acknowledged Robert and Signus could one day match him. One could even go so far as to claim Robert and Signus were stronger than the rest of Houses Galveria and Bertrand’s soldiers put together.

“Did you really need to mobilize all ten houses for this, though?” Robert asked. “I’ve heard the rumors about Baron Mikoshiba, and apparently he really is doing something in the peninsula, but...”

Since Count Salzberg had approached him, Robert saw this as a chance to make his doubts known. They were up against just one baron, and his territory was the barren Wortenia Peninsula. Meanwhile, the ten houses of the north all had above-average armies considering their titles. It felt like this war would be over before it even started. Actually, even House Salzberg on its own should have been able to defeat the Mikoshiba barony. At least, that was the conclusion Robert came to based on the information he had.

“Who’s to say?” Count Salzberg lightly shrugged. “Honestly, even I think I might be overreacting here. But that man is hard to predict; that much is fact. I can understand why my wife errs on the side of caution. But I suppose we’ll have our answers in a few days’ time.”

With that said, Count Salzberg glanced out the window, as if gazing at the land to the north hidden behind the leaden curtain of night.

♱

Several days later, an army clad in black armor appeared to the north of Epirus.

Standing in a watchtower built along the ramparts of the citadel city, Signus narrowed his eyes as the intense wind whipped at his hair. His gaze was fixed on the rows of black helmets approaching the city. They were clearly visible under the light of day, but they blended in perfectly at night.

As the enemy army lined up several kilometers away, they gathered under a banner with an image of a double-headed serpent coiled around a sword, one of its heads golden and the other argent. Its red eyes glared at its surroundings menacingly. It wasn’t a design Signus had seen before.

I see, so he has about a thousand or so men. Their equipment is uniform... Baron Mikoshiba probably bought it in bulk and supplied it to his troops. Looks like he has no shortage of funds.

Count Salzberg’s army had two thousand knights, provided by the ten houses of the north. Having received word of the enemy’s approach, the commanders of the count’s army gathered on the walls. They used martial thaumaturgy to enhance their vision, which allowed them to observe the enemy army and its soldiers.

Signus gazed ahead with his arms crossed.

“How’s it look, Signus?” Robert called out to him from behind.

We have the advantage in terms of numbers, but we were foolish to think Lord Mikoshiba was just a baron. During the conference yesterday, we said we’d just beat him down with brute force, but looking at this...

Signus was only looking from a distance, so he couldn’t make any real assumptions, but the enemy’s ranks looked well-organized. They were likely elites, and their numbers were considerably greater than what they’d expected. Considering a normal baron could only support an army of a hundred or so knights, the size of Ryoma Mikoshiba’s force was exceptional.

“This war might be more trouble than we thought,” Signus whispered, his eyes fixed on the distance. He kept his voice low because he knew that this wasn’t something to say before going to war. After all, Count Salzberg had twice the numbers.

Though Baron Mikoshiba’s army was larger than they’d expected, Count Salzberg’s army still had the numerical advantage. He could also mobilize it from Epirus, a renowned citadel. Having a city as their base of operations meant that not only did they have a source of supplies, but they could also conscript the citizens and hire mercenaries if need be. Count Salzberg’s army clearly held all the cards. If Signus were to be pessimistic now, everyone would just brand him a coward.

Despite this, Signus couldn’t help but put his anxiety into words. All skilled soldiers claimed that war had a certain scent. Those who’d experienced battle and survived had developed a sixth sense for it. And the moment Signus laid eyes on the other side’s army, his intuition had cried out in alarm.

“Hmm. Well, if you think so, I guess you must be right,” Robert replied with his usual composed expression.

Signus smiled wryly. “You never change, friend.”

Out of everyone in Count Salzberg’s army, Signus and Robert boasted unrivaled strength and combat experience. It had been decided that the two of them would serve as vanguards. In this world, vanguards were commanders who would charge at and cut their way through the enemy forces. Their performance would increase the soldiers’ morale, and the second and third waves would wash over the enemy and turn the tides of battle. Their role was critical and would decide which way the war’s outcome swung. For men of the battlefield, no role could be more honorable. However, it also meant braving a great deal of danger.

Though he was charged with such an important duty, Robert remained calm even after hearing Signus’s ominous words. He didn’t affirm or deny them. In fact, he almost seemed indifferent to it all.

“Don’t worry,” Robert said. “Either way, our job’s the same. We just kill any enemy soldier we see. Old Salzberg and his bootlicking lackeys are just gonna have to pick up our slack.” After he finished, he looked around with a cold gaze that succinctly expressed his feelings.

Not far from where they were standing, Viscount Telshini was looking out at Ryoma’s army too. He had a nasty expression on his face, and he was laughing vulgarly. He was seeing the same thing as Signus, but his impression was the complete opposite.

“So those are Baron Mikoshiba’s soldiers. Quite the gaudy costumes he had them wear.”

The men around Viscount Telshini raised their voices in agreement, parroting him.

“Indeed...” one of them said.

“But looking at their gear, it seems like the Wortenia Peninsula is more affluent than we thought,” said another.

“And given the numbers he gathered, I can only assume the rumors about him buying slaves in bulk are true.”

“His numbers are impressive, but individual strength is what decides the outcome. The upstart did work hard, I will grant him that, but how many of those soldiers are actually useful?”

“From what the count told me, the three hundred soldiers he took to Xarooda could all use thaumaturgy.”

“That’s an obvious bluff. He probably hired a few skilled users and mingled them in with his troops, fooling everyone into thinking his entire army was on that level.”

“Well, that’s what I think too, but...”

Signus and Robert could hear the nobles’ exchange, full of ridicule and exasperation. These were the firstborn sons set to inherit the headships of the ten houses of the north. A few of them spoke sensibly, but any fair point was buried under obstinate opinions and contrary objections. The few reasonable men present weren’t confident enough in their words to argue back.

“Don’t overthink this. We just need to do what we can given our position,” Robert said. His derisive smile vanished, and he gazed fixedly at Signus.

The intensity of Robert’s words made Signus avert his gaze. Just like Robert, he wasn’t keen on this war. He wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Still, he was going to put his best effort into winning—an approach Robert seemed to disagree with.

“But where is this war going to go from here?” Signus asked. “Count Salzberg was originally a skilled warrior. If I try to talk some sense into him—”

Signus was displeased with both the way he was being treated in general and with this war in particular. As a commander, a man who held people’s lives in his hands, he’d always thought he had to do the best job he could. And being cautious and taking well-considered measures were the best ways to stop disasters from happening. Remaining inside the confines of Epirus’s wall and collecting information could change everything.

While Robert understood Signus’s feelings, he still shook his head. “Don’t bother. It doesn’t matter what advice we give; no one’s gonna listen. They’ll just say we don’t know our place and brush us off, or they’ll think we’re trying to curry favor with the count to take over our households. And if your family catches wind of that, they’ll off you even if we do win this war, you know?”

Signus and Robert were only allowed to live because their families thought they had no interest in seizing the headship for themselves. That along with their martial prowess was why their eldest brothers—who had no talent for battle—had given them control over their armies. They viewed Robert and Signus as convenient substitutes for themselves. But if something were to even slightly shake their confidence, the Twin Blades’ lives would be forfeit. Victory on the battlefield didn’t necessarily make one a winner. As strong as Signus might be, poison in his food or a knife through his ribs while he slept would still kill him.

“Listen, Signus, overthinking things is a bad habit of yours. Just take it easy and do what you want. Focus on killing the enemies right in front of you. If there’s a trap, we’ll break through it.”

Those words bordered on callous, but Robert’s suggestion was the safest, most efficient method.

“But if we do that...” Signus started.

“I told you, didn’t I? Worry about your own damn hide,” Robert said, giving him a friendly tap on the

shoulder before turning around.“Are you...” Signus whispered at Robert’s back. “Are you really okay with this?”

His old friend didn’t answer.

♱

“Milord, a report just came in from Lord Jinnai. The ten houses of the north have already entered Epirus’s walls.” One of the guards standing outside Ryoma’s tent had walked inside and whispered that.

A command post had been set up inside the tent. A long table sat in the center, with a large map spread out over it. It was a highly detailed topographical map of not just Epirus, but the entirety of Rhoadseria’s northern regions.

“Also, here is the thing you ordered us to bring.” The guard handed over a securely sealed letter.

Ryoma accepted it and placed it in his breast pocket, without so much as opening it.

“Understood,” Ryoma said. “Good work. Have the runner who brought the report take a rest before he heads back to Jinnai.”

“Understood.” The soldier bowed and ran out of the tent. Thanks to his arduous training, he knew better than to say anything more.

Lione and her people really ran them ragged, Ryoma thought.

They had used Spartan training, meant to beat them into shape and mold them into skilled, disciplined soldiers in the shortest time possible. In modern society, this would undoubtedly be seen as abuse. But Ryoma and his subordinates had had no choice but to do things that way.

I guess I’ll just have to ask them to forgive me. This did give them a chance to survive...

Ryoma didn’t presume himself to be omnipotent or capable of saving everyone under his wing. He had his hands full just protecting his own well-being. But the methods he used could mean that instead of a hundred dying, only ninety-nine would die. It would only save one person, but would it be right to do nothing just because he couldn’t save all one hundred people? No one could answer that question. If God existed, maybe he could.

Either way, I can only do what’s within my means.

As that thought filled his mind, Ryoma heard someone approach him from behind.

“What’s wrong, boy? Hidin’ something again?”

A vulgar woman with shoulder-length crimson hair approached him with a teasing smile. It was Lione. Her red hair and combative personality had earned her the moniker “The Crimson Lioness.”

Lione was one of his longest-running companions, second only to the Malfist sisters, and among his most trusted lieutenants. The only problem was that she still treated Ryoma like a younger brother and teasingly called him “boy.”

“Yeah, I am hiding something, actually,” Ryoma replied with a straight face. “I’ll explain it in a bit, though.”

“Hmm. Right then,” Lione replied, seemingly bored. “Yer no fun, boy. Can’t tease ya without ya goin’ all serious. You’ve been gettin’ cheeky on me.”

“I think you know my methods by now?” Ryoma replied with a smile.

“Sure I do,” Lione said, meeting his smile with a sarcastic one of her own. “Ya were a schemer since the day I met ya. At first, I didn’t get how a kid yer age could be like that, but after years, I’m used to it. Same as you, right, Boltz?” She directed the conversation over to her lieutenant, the one-armed Boltz.

“Can’t say it surprises me anymore. The lad got here by making dangerous gambles, after all. Seeing him act cautious almost makes me worry.” Boltz directed a meaningful glance at Ryoma.

“I guess I must be pretty decent, then, since you and Lione still back me up,” Ryoma said with a grin.

“Hmph. Guess ya got us there,” Lione muttered, her cheeks flushing. She then scoffed at him and looked away.

Everyone present could tell Lione was just hiding her embarrassment.

Lione had spent years living as the leader of a mercenary group, and it was the leader’s job to decide if the people hiring them were trustworthy, even if their request was backed by the guild. Mercenaries put their lives on the line, so discerning the decency of their employer could mean life or death. Because of this, Lione had developed a keen eye for people. How she and Boltz got involved with Ryoma in the first place was nothing more than a sequence of tangled coincidences. Ryoma might have had moral fiber, but if Lione and Boltz hadn’t thought that he was a man worth serving, they’d have taken their mercenary group and left for another country. In other words, Lione’s very presence here was proof of the deep trust between her and Ryoma. Still, by her very nature, Lione was a bit bashful to admit that she trusted him to his face.

A calm, silent air hung over the tent. It didn’t last long, though.

“All right, banter ends here. We’ve got a war to fight. Still, I already explained the plans earlier, so I don’t think you need to hear it again.”

Ryoma’s low, collected voice filled the tent. All the lieutenants around the table, starting with Lione and Boltz, grew more tense and serious.

“For now, just like we predicted, the armies of all ten houses have gathered in Epirus. They have roughly two thousand knights.”

Ryoma picked up two figurines of cavaliers and placed them over Epirus on the map.

“Are they all knights?” Boltz asked.

“Yeah, they are.”

“Hmm. I see your plan worked, lad.”

“As weak as conscripts might be,” Ryoma continued, “numbers are an important factor in open field combat.”

Everyone else nodded.

If this war were a chess game, Count Salzberg would naturally be the king, while Robert Bertrand and Signus Galveria, his two strongest soldiers, would be his rooks. The conscripts, by contrast, would all be pawns. Certainly, some of the conscripts might have individual strength, but the deciding factor on the battlefield was whether one was able to use thaumaturgy or not. Even so, that didn’t mean pawns were useless. Though a true chess master could perhaps win a match using just rooks, bishops, and knights, it was extremely difficult.

“For now, everythin’ went according to yer plan, boy. The first fight should decide how the rest goes. What’s yer strategy after that?” Lione asked, a dangerous smile on her lips. She was a skilled commander, but she was also a savage warrior. Her instincts sensed the bloodshed about to unfold.

“We’ll be clashing against their army. Conventional battle,” Ryoma answered.

At those words, all the warriors in the tent raised their voices in a battle cry.