Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 19 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Weapon That Is the Weak

A gentle breeze slipped across the plains. On that day, countless banners flapped in the open field to the southwest of the citadel city of Epirus. It was right around lunchtime, and many pillars of smoke rising from kitchen hearths trailed up to the sky.

The campsite, full of soldiers on horseback, was like a battlefield in its own way, and everyone’s expressions were stiff and severe. There were two reasons for this. First was that they were quite close to their destination. They had entered northern Rhoadseria, which was currently under Baron Mikoshiba’s control, and were now before their first objective, the citadel city of Epirus. No matter how slowly they marched, they were no more than a few days away from bloody combat, and knowing this, they struggled to maintain their composure.

The second reason was despite the fact that war was so close, the Mikoshiba barony had yet to make any moves. They hadn’t sent out any scouting parties, nor had they fired a single arrow. It was almost as if they were ignoring the northern subjugation army completely. That lack of response only shook and infuriated the soldiers, further solidifying the air of bloodlust hanging over the campsite. The fact that they couldn’t predict what the enemy would do or when they might do it put a significant psychological strain on the army, as well as the commanders leading it.

In one particularly large tent set in the center of the camp, Lupis Rhoadserians grimaced as she whispered in displeasure.

“What is the situation? Why aren’t they moving?”

On a table was a map with pawns set upon it, signifying the northern subjugation army that had arrived at Epirus two days prior. Ever since they’d left the capital, Pireas, their march had progressed without issue. It had been smooth sailing so far, to the point that one might think things were advancing swimmingly. If nothing else, there was no visible cause for concern.

Nonetheless, when going up against Ryoma Mikoshiba, things were never that simple, and that knowledge constricted around Queen Lupis’s heart like a serpent.

“It’s going too well.” The words spilled from her lips and expressed her unconscious anxiety. “The fact that nothing is wrong doesn’t make sense...”

This was baseless intuition and certainly not worth trusting when mobilizing an army, but Queen Lupis was convinced of this. She was a strong soldier and commander in her own right, renowned among Rhoadseria’s people as a general princess who had served as captain of the royal knights, but the truth was that she had never actually commanded troops directly on the battlefield.

In response to the nobles’ despotic control of the kingdom, the former sovereign, King Pharst II, had tried to return power to the royal family. Lupis’s training as a knight had been one part of that. In other words, she was only a figurehead, an empty symbol with little to no real power. That was why the late General Albrecht had used her as a banner with which to gather and unite his knights’ faction.

Lupis was no match for the kingdom of Myest’s Ecclesia Marinelle or the O’ltormea Empire’s Shardina Eisenheit, but she wasn’t a complete amateur when it came to military matters. She had been given the finest military education the royal family could offer her, so even if it was only theoretical knowledge and textbook wisdom, she was still more skilled than most, and even she could tell that this situation wasn’t natural.

“It’s him we’re dealing with. He wouldn’t just sit back and do nothing...”

Ryoma Mikoshiba was the hated man who’d hurt her pride, but at the same time, he was a fearsome opponent. Queen Lupis knew this and refused to underestimate him. During their march, she’d remained wary by sending scouts in all directions, maintaining an intelligence network that would detect any change. But if the enemy did nothing, staying so alert felt like wasted effort borne of paranoia. It was under unusual situations like this that Queen Lupis’s bad habits had a way of surfacing.

“Meltina, is pressing forward like this wrong? Should we maintain our station here and see how things go?”

In a position where they had no information on the enemy’s movements, this wasn’t a bad idea, so perhaps this was a case where her bad habits turned out to be useful. Queen Lupis’s indecisive nature led to her making a defeatist suggestion, but it was better than charging blindly into the enemy’s trap.

All the same, Meltina, who stood beside her, shook her head in denial. “It’s possible you’re right, Your Majesty, and that man is planning something. But it’s also possible the enemy lost their nerve upon seeing our army’s size and elected to hide inside their walls. Either way, the only answer is to progress while maintaining the status quo.”

“We just keep marching for Epirus?”

“Yes. I think that a frontal attack would be our best option.”

Queen Lupis once again settled into a contemplative silence.

“Your Majesty...” Meltina smiled gently. “I understand that you’re ill at ease, and indeed, I didn’t think he would simply cower inside Epirus’s walls until now, but it was a possibility we’d considered. That is why we gathered an army of this size. We just need to corner the enemy little by little. So long as we keep applying pressure, he is sure to break.”

Queen Lupis nodded reluctantly and looked down at the map. She seemed to understand Meltina’s words to an extent, but deep down, she wasn’t fully convinced.

Meltina silently watched her anxious queen. She knew from many years of acquaintance that when Queen Lupis was in this state, anything she might say would have the opposite effect of what she intended.

It might be best if she lets out all the anxiety she’s harboring.

Thankfully, the only ones present were Meltina and Queen Lupis. Better that she let her fear and anxiety explode here than during a war council.

And I can understand why she’s so afraid.

Meltina was also anxious about not knowing what Ryoma Mikoshiba was planning, but though they both had the same fears, there was one thing that set her apart from Queen Lupis: Meltina knew how to restrain her fear.

With her fears right in front of her, she cannot restrain her emotions. She doesn’t have to always keep them restrained, but if she’s constantly tormented by them, it could make her change her plans.

Normally, Meltina wouldn’t even dare to think this about her queen. It was a knight’s and a vassal’s duty to obey their liege’s orders, even when they revised their plans for seemingly no reason. The same could be said for Mikhail Vanash, her counterpart, who was absent from this tent. Their purpose was not to handle the situation appropriately, but instead to answer Queen Lupis’s expectations.

Were this the past, Meltina would merely be an aide to Queen Lupis. She wouldn’t have her own role and responsibilities. Her job had been simply to relay the queen’s wishes to those who would carry out her orders—as a messenger of sorts. But that had only lasted while Lupis was still just a princess, when she wasn’t fully involved with the kingdom’s politics yet. Now, Meltina knew painfully well that nothing was worse than trying to run an administration headed by an indecisive leader. Stabilizing Rhoadseria in its current state required an incredible amount of work and effort. Even so, Meltina had no intention of abandoning Queen Lupis.

I just need to compensate for her flaws, that’s all.

The queen’s feelings were quite clear on the northern subjugation, which was why Meltina had worked hard to keep the nobles—who only acted for their greedy desires—satisfied while maintaining a chain of command.

The question is whether anything will happen before we arrive at Epirus.

At present, Meltina and her forces knew very little about the situation in Epirus. Their spies and scouts had reported that hardly any traffic was leaving or entering the city. The gates were sealed shut, and only supply caravans were allowed passage.

What’s more, security in the city was tight, so much so that even the most capable of spies had been forced to abandon their attempts to infiltrate the city for information. The size of Epirus’s current garrison was still unknown, and nothing had indicated whether the enemy planned to meet them in open combat or try to hide inside their walls.

The only thing Meltina knew for sure was that Epirus’s walls flew the Mikoshiba barony’s banner of the two-headed silver and gold snake coiled around a sword—which was to say she effectively knew nothing at all. Unfortunately, being uncertain about everything could lead one’s heart astray.

That’s exactly why we need to stick to our original plan...at least until there’s a change in the situation.

It was as suffocating as plunging one’s face into a bucket of water. The only way to escape that feeling was to change the original plan, but that would discard their idea of using their superior numbers—two hundred thousand soldiers—to pressure and corner the Mikoshiba barony.

That’s an option, of course, but if we cave under the threat of suffocation now and try to pull our head out of the bucket, we’ll lose all our momentum. People will start criticizing us.

An army of two hundred thousand was certainly a powerful military force, but commanding such a large group of people could be tricky. The northern subjugation army was made up of the armies of independent nobles who only cared for their own vested interests. They had little conception of serving the queen. So long as the northern subjugation force held the advantage, they’d obey orders, but if the tides of war were to turn against the subjugation, they’d flee for safety at the first chance possible.

Meltina could easily see that if Queen Lupis couldn’t maintain the chain of command, the northern subjugation army would fall apart at once. To prevent that, the queen and the rest of the commanders would have to be of one mind.

Suddenly, a noise from outside the tent snapped Meltina out of her thoughts.

An enemy raid?!

That was the first thought to cross her mind. Queen Lupis seemed to have also noticed the disturbance outside, because she raised her eyes from the map and looked at Meltina with an anxious expression. A second later, Mikhail Vanash stormed into the tent, clearly discomposed. The fact that he neglected to announce his entrance and wait for permission was proof of how urgent the situation was.

Queen Lupis’s expression clouded over, and a heavy air hung over the tent.

“Sir Mikhail, what’s the matter?!” Meltina asked.

“We just got word from the reconnaissance unit. There’s a corps marching our way from Epirus! A force of over fifty thousand soldiers!”

“Fifty thousand? You mean an enemy attack?!”

If those were the Mikoshiba barony’s forces, then they would need to prepare to intercept them at once.

It can’t be! The barony’s army only had twenty to twenty-five thousand soldiers at most! And now they have an army double that size? That’s impossible. How did they gather this many soldiers?

Meltina shivered. According to tactical theory, when intercepting an enemy marching into your territory, it was customary to only send out two-thirds of one’s total army. They weren’t technically within Ryoma Mikoshiba’s domain, but since the enemy was defending Epirus, an important defensive position, it was hard to believe they would empty out their citadel’s garrison. No sane commander would send all their soldiers out of their stronghold like that.

With that in mind, the fact that the Mikoshiba barony marched out an army of fifty thousand men implied that their total forces had to be at least between seventy-five to eighty thousand troops—which would mean that the barony’s army exceeded the ten knight orders under Queen Lupis’s direct command. The Mikoshiba barony’s army on its own exceeded the queen’s army in number.

Meltina felt all the color drain from her face.

This is bad, this is bad, this is bad!

The northern subjugation still had the larger army, but since it was made up of individual noble armies, the total size didn’t necessarily reflect the army’s effective fighting strength. Moreover, they were up against an impressive strategist who could employ any kind of plan against them. The word “retreat” crossed Meltina’s mind.

To their surprise, Mikhail shook his head. “No. The scouts say that it’s not the Mikoshiba barony’s army. If nothing else, it’s not an enemy attack.”

“Meaning?”

A large group coming from Epirus’s direction at a time like this? The only thing Meltina could think of was the Mikoshiba barony’s army, which was why she’d panicked, but hearing Mikhail’s explanation calmed her down somewhat. That just left the question of who this group was, then.

Survivors from the ten houses of the north? No, that’s too big of an army...

If these really were survivors from the ten houses, then they had chosen the worst possible time to show themselves. Besides, if they wanted revenge, they wouldn’t decide to appear here at this point in time. If they had any intellect at all, they would lie in wait in Epirus’s outskirts and regroup with the northern subjugation there; that would be a much more effective way of complicating things for the Mikoshiba barony. The size of the group was suspicious as well.

What Mikhail said next answered their doubts. “No, they’re commoners who lived around Epirus. They rejected the Mikoshiba barony’s occupation and are now seeking refuge under Her Majesty, Queen Lupis.”

It took a moment for Mikhail’s words to fully register in Meltina’s mind, but the more she thought of it, the more confused she became.

That night, Lupis Rhoadserians gathered the commanding officers of the northern subjugation army to discuss countermeasures. That said, the only ones in attendance were herself, the supreme commander Helena Steiner, Meltina, and Mikhail.

After Mikhail gave his report, the decision was made to accept the refugees from Epirus. However, not all the wrinkles were ironed out during that war council. The biggest issue to resolve was how the northern subjugation army was going to act while being burdened by the refugees they’d just accepted?

Everyone realized this question was crucial and came with implications on the northern subjugation’s overall management. Normally, the nobles would be part of this discussion, but it was obvious that involving them would only complicate the talks. Some nobles argued that the refugees were too much of a burden and disagreed that they should be accepted to begin with. To them, this kind of irregularity was none of their business. Their hearts were driven solely by greed and a thirst for revenge. Consulting them would just set things back; at worst, they wouldn’t come up with any solution.

Therefore, Meltina and Mikhail told the nobles that the queen and the supreme commander of the army would decide, yet everyone present knew that they were just buying time.

We had no choice but to accept the refugees, though. Queen Lupis couldn’t ignore the voices of her own people crying out for her protection. Still, tactically and strategically speaking, it was a terrible choice. What a problem.

Mikhail Vanash sighed softly as he looked around the tent. Everyone’s expressions were dark, making it clear everyone knew the severity of the situation.

It only makes sense. We can’t be optimistic with the way things are.

The representative of the Epirus refugees, an old man, had told them that roughly fifty thousand refugees were seeking protection. They hadn’t held a roll call, of course, so it was impossible to know their exact size, but given the rate with which they consumed their emergency rations, their numbers were about right.

Needless to say, it was a terrible figure. They made up a fourth of the northern subjugation army’s size.

That said, if it is just fifty thousand refugees, we might be able to handle that, but we don’t know that for sure.

The problem with accepting refugees who came with nothing but the clothes on their back was that it meant they had to provide them with food and clothing.

They said that when Ryoma Mikoshiba expelled them from Epirus, he gave them several days’ worth of food and a single gold coin per family in exchange for their evacuation.

At face value, that sounded like a decent offer. A gold coin, when converted to currency in Ryoma’s world, was worth one million yen and was equivalent to ten thousand copper coins. A single copper was equivalent to a hundred yen, with five coppers being enough to buy a large lunch in O’ltormea’s capital.

For that amount, these refugees would be able to feed themselves for a long while, making it a luxurious recompense. Most commoners in this world had to balance their food expenses with a single copper coin a day.

If one were to hypothesize that an average family was five to six in number, a single gold coin could keep them fed for months. Despite the fact that they’d rejected the Mikoshiba barony’s occupation, Baron Mikoshiba had treated them very fairly, at least on face value. If nothing else, he’d treated them better than any Rhoadserian noble would.

But he did it for malicious purposes.

In peacetime, this would have been a wonderful gesture, as that money could buy them the food and clothing they needed, but northern Rhoadseria was about to become a battlefield, and no merchant, no matter how opportunistic and shrewd, would be brave enough to trade in this region during conflict. The only merchants who would operate near the fighting would be ones with political ties to the armies. Any retail merchants or peddlers would have long since left the region.

Even if some merchants did try to take advantage of the situation, they’d be hard-pressed to obtain goods and produce, since—according to the old refugee representative—most of the surrounding towns and villages had been evacuated. The farming areas that were the backbone of food production had been ravaged. In other words, there was no food to buy in northern Rhoadseria.

And that’s why they came to us, begging for help, when we drew closer.

From the refugees’ perspective, they had been driven out of their homes because they refused to accept the Mikoshiba barony’s occupation. They had chosen loyalty to Rhoadseria over safety, so they’d turned to their kingdom for help.

Therein lay Ryoma Mikoshiba’s vicious plan.

I heard he used a similar plan during his war with Count Salzberg, and we stocked up on supplies to counteract the possibility that he’d try the same tactic. Fifty thousand refugees we can handle, but...

The problem was that there couldn’t have been just fifty thousand refugees. Mikhail didn’t know the total population of northern Rhoadseria—no country in this world had those kinds of statistics about its population—so there was no way he could know the exact number in a situation like this. On the other hand, he did know that the population of Epirus and its surrounding lands had to exceed several hundred thousand, and most of those people were bound to come to Queen Lupis, asking for help.

Assuming there’s a million commoners living in northern Rhoadseria, if half of them rejected the Mikoshiba barony’s occupation and were ordered to leave...

That would result in half a million refugees, and the chaos that would ensue from that number was terrifying to imagine. The thought of it made a chill run down Mikhail’s back.

That’s impossible. Why would he do that in the first place? He went to so much trouble to occupy this land. Why ravage it and make it so he can’t collect taxes from it? Is his objective just to completely raze this country to the ground?

The possibility crossed Mikhail’s mind for a second, but he soon rejected the idea.

There’s no denying that Ryoma Mikoshiba holds a grudge against Queen Lupis, considering everything that’s happened between them. Yes, giving a mere commoner like him a noble title is unprecedented, but Queen Lupis rewarded him for his help in the civil war with the undesirable land that is the Wortenia Peninsula. That domain isn’t a worthy recompense for his accomplishments.

At the time it was given to him, the Wortenia Peninsula was an abandoned land with no citizens. No one would be happy to receive it as their reward.

And her sending him on the expedition to Xarooda broke their relationship beyond repair.

True, it was Mikhail who’d suggested that Queen Lupis use the Mikoshiba barony for this purpose, and he wasn’t going to deny doing it out of hatred for Ryoma, but the fact remained that in the kingdom’s unstable state following the civil war, there weren’t many other hands they could have played in that situation. This was why Lupis had reluctantly accepted Mikhail’s advice and ordered the Mikoshiba barony to join the expedition.

In a sense, she did it only as a surface-level display that she was answering Myest’s and Xarooda’s expectations that Rhoadseria would participate in the war.

In another sense, she’d only used the Mikoshiba barony as a sacrificial pawn. After all, at the time, the barony had only recently come into possession of Wortenia, and they had been limited in how many soldiers they could send to the expedition.

But Ryoma was able to somehow answer our unreasonable demands, which just made Her Majesty fear him all the more.

Queen Lupis was well aware that the way she treated Ryoma was unjust, and she feared he would come for revenge, which was why she’d tried to have him eliminated. Any vassal who felt their liege was trying to get rid of them would grow disgruntled and seek a way to survive.

It was inevitable the two would end up clashing.

With that in mind, if all Ryoma wanted was revenge, Mikhail couldn’t see him spinning the kind of schemes that would result in such widespread devastation. Mikhail knew Ryoma to be an intellectual and rational man, and it was hard to believe he would do this simply out of a thirst for revenge. If that were Ryoma’s goal, this whole sequence of events didn’t make sense.

The more he tried to think about it, the less Mikhail could grasp Ryoma’s intentions. All the same, there was no point in dwelling on it right now. Whatever Ryoma’s plan was, they would have to deal with it, and Mikhail understood that.

It’s no good. Whatever we do, we need to decide on a plan.

Mikhail already had his answer, though. All that remained was to hear Helena’s opinion. And just as he pondered that, Helena, who had her arms crossed pensively, finally spoke.

“For now, our only option is to reorganize our supply chain to accommodate them,” she said bitterly. “We’ll be helpless if we end up running out of rations.”

Helena herself was aware that her suggestion was far from ideal, but Meltina consented at once.

“Yes, given that we can’t deny the refugees, I agree with Lady Helena’s idea. We need to rebuild our supply chain. But I do think it would result in us having to cut the soldiers’ rations short for the immediate future.”

Mikhail came to the same conclusion, meaning everyone but Queen Lupis was in agreement.

Not that we have any other choice. Mikhail nodded briefly, aware that everyone’s eyes were on him. Thankfully, Rhoadseria’s primary grain-producing regions are in the south, far from the battlefield, and it’s unlikely this war will affect them. So long as we gather supplies from the south and the rest of the country, we could keep even a million refugees fed for a year or two. And in that time, we’ll dispose of Ryoma and minimize the damages to the northern regions. It’ll be difficult, but this is our best solution.

This plan wasn’t without its share of problems and would strike a painful blow to the kingdom’s finances, but if they chose to abandon the refugees, Rhoadseria’s public order would spiral out of control.

The kingdom’s been unstable as it is in recent years.

Just a few months ago, a large-scale peasant revolt broke out as a result of a conflict between a magistrate and some villagers. Thankfully, the royal knights had been dispatched to swiftly suppress the revolt, and due to Queen Lupis’s decision to reduce taxes, Rhoadseria was able to regain peace.

Even so, people were still disgruntled with the nobles and the kingdom, and if Queen Lupis heeded the nobles’ advice and left the refugees to their fate, it could trigger another large-scale revolt from which there would be no going back. The queen had no choice but to accept the refugees and treat them magnanimously under the crown’s name. To adopt that course of action, however, they needed to make another decision, and make it fast.

“To do that, someone will have to return to the capital to take command. The question is, who...” Mikhail said.

Everyone present exchanged looks with one another. The answer was self-evident.

I guess I’m the only option here.

The nobles were too obsessed with taking revenge on Ryoma for them to be entrusted with this behind-the-scenes work. If Queen Lupis gave the order, any noble would be compelled to obey, albeit reluctantly, but they would handle things for appearance’s sake only and would be sloppy and negligent about it. At worst, they’d even smuggle supplies away to line their pockets.

For the same reasons, the bureaucrats who remained in the capital couldn’t be counted on to do this. They were reliable when it came to their official duties, but without someone to supervise them, they could end up scheming.

As the commander of the northern subjugation army, Queen Lupis couldn’t leave the battlefield. Besides, if she did return to the capital, she wouldn’t be able to rebuild the supply lines while keeping an eye out on the nobles and the bureaucrats.

That narrowed the list of possible candidates to Helena, Meltina, or Mikhail.

Lady Helena is the supreme commander of our armies. Her returning would definitely have a ripple effect. In addition...

Queen Lupis didn’t fully trust Helena, and neither did Mikhail nor Meltina. Helena had once tried to shift to Ryoma’s side, and she only remained on Lupis’s side thanks to Sudou’s maneuvering. However, even though she eventually chose not to betray Queen Lupis, the fact that she’d considered it made her untrustworthy.

Perhaps placing her in charge of our armies was a bad idea.

Normally, assigning someone who could betray you to command your armies would be an act of madness, but they had still elected to do so because her being the commander would influence the army’s morale.

I hate to admit it, but her name as Rhoadseria’s Ivory Goddess of War gives her influence and reputation that we can’t ignore over both Rhoadseria and the surrounding countries.

A good part of the reason that many of the nobles obeyed Helena’s orders was due to that reputation. Then, if Helena couldn’t be counted on, the only remaining options were Mikhail and Meltina, Queen Lupis’s trusted aides.

But it’s clear that if Meltina were to return, Her Majesty would be anxious and unstable.

Queen Lupis trusted Mikhail, certainly, but not having an aide of the same gender with her on the battlefield would have a debilitating effect on her mental state.

Plus, Meltina isn’t well suited for this kind of work, and she doesn’t get along with that man whatsoever. I don’t get along with Sudou well either, but I’m better at containing myself.

The face of that middle-aged man and his mocking smile flashed in Mikhail’s mind.

I’d rather not rely on him for help, but given the situation...

They were in a partnership with him now, but that didn’t mean they were truly friends, or even allies for that matter. Even now, Mikhail didn’t trust Akitake Sudou, but he did hold Sudou’s talent for negotiation and mediation in high regard.

Akitake Sudou had originally been an aide to Princess Radine, who was once their enemy, and despite that, he was able to establish a position for himself in the court. Through that, he developed a partnership with Mikhail, an aide to his enemy. Whatever goals Sudou had in mind, his talents were indispensable in times of emergency like this.

All things considered, Mikhail was the only one who could return to the capital now. The question now was who would be the one to say it out loud.

As everyone exchanged awkward looks, Mikhail slowly said, “I will return to the capital, then.”

“Are you sure?” Queen Lupis asked, her face awash with relief and guilt. “Mikhail, if you return to the capital now...”

She knew that Mikhail approached this war with a great deal of ambition and desire to contribute. The northern subjugation held special significance to Mikhail. During the civil war, his impatience had gotten him captured, which was a blot on his good name. This war was Mikhail’s chance to gain the kind of merit that would wash away this shame.

But that’s just my own personal prestige.

Mikhail nodded proudly, and Helena nodded back. The other three knew he was the only realistic option.

With that decided, the remaining topic at hand was the upcoming siege battle against Epirus.

But we already have the answer to that too.

After rejecting Ryoma’s occupation, the refugees sought nothing more than to return home. People felt an affinity toward the land they were born in, and now they had hope in the form of the vast northern subjugation army. Queen Lupis couldn’t ignore their demands, and even if she could, doing so would be meaningless.

After all, the nobles who made up the army were all clamoring to take revenge on Ryoma, and with the refugees’ requests on top of that, they had to besiege Epirus, even if it meant resorting to forceful means to do it. In the end, Queen Lupis could decide to lay siege to the city of her own will or do so because of outside pressure.

Mikhail sighed. We have no choice but to attack Epirus as planned, even if it means braving some risks.

Originally, the northern subjugation army should have had an overwhelming advantage, or at the very least, they’d prepared for the war well enough to make that claim. Be that as it may, Mikhail could tell that it would take no time at all for their preparations to fall apart, but he also knew he couldn’t very well say that out loud.

“Then that just leaves the siege of Epirus,” Meltina stated. “Are we still going to begin on the appointed date?”

The other three fell silent. Everyone present had an ominous premonition about the siege. That creeping fear had no concrete basis, but their intuition still warned them. If they’d had any concrete reasons to object, they’d have spoken up, but since they didn’t, silence hung over them all.

It’s obvious why, though. There’s no chance that man doesn’t have some sort of plan. We all know that.

The issue was that they didn’t know what kind of plan Ryoma had. Fundamentally speaking, there were many strategies used in a siege, divided between the attacking side and the defending side—mole tactics with the attackers burrowing under the walls, an enemy general betraying his side to open the gates, surrounding a castle so as to starve it out. Across history and all over the world, many tactics were used in siege battles. There were also siege weapons, like battering rams, to consider. All of these things were used even in this world, one with the power of thaumaturgy. Needless to say, Lupis’s army came equipped with siege weapons.

Meanwhile, the defending side holed up inside the walls typically resorted to tactics based around stalling for time until reinforcements arrived. Of course, there were all sorts of methods a besieged army could take to last longer. However, the primary objective of a defending army was not to defeat the attacking army, but to outlast it until it was forced to retreat. That meant that Ryoma’s and his allies were rather limited in what they could do while holed behind Epirus’s walls.

After all, no noble in Rhoadseria would send soldiers to help them. To be exact, aristocrats who were affiliated with the Counts Bergstone and Zeleph, who were now part of the Mikoshiba barony, were a possibility, but most of those nobles had already had their territories revoked and had to flee to the Wortenia Peninsula with their families.

In addition, we sent messengers to Xarooda and Myest and signed pacts of noninterference with them. There’s no telling if they’re scheming behind the scenes, but formally speaking, they shouldn’t be sending any reinforcements to Ryoma Mikoshiba. That just leaves the Kingdom of Helnesgoula, but they don’t share a border with us. If they were to interfere, they’d have to do it through a sea route. But our spies report that there are building tensions at the O’ltormea-Qwiltantia border. Would they really risk a voyage to send him reinforcements under those conditions?

The more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed any reinforcements were marching to help the Mikoshiba barony.

But if that’s the case, I have no idea what he’s planning.

Mikhail Vanash’s intellect was unable to answer that question. All he could do was go around in circles, with each question only leading to more questions. Due to that, their discussions about besieging Epirus lasted all night long.

But in a few days’ time, the four of them would come to realize that all their discussions were for nothing.

A few days had passed since Queen Lupis accepted the refugees. The northern subjugation army had marched its troops to a spot two kilometers away from Epirus. It was an area dotted with low, sloping hills on Epirus’s outskirts.

Sitting on her horse, Helena looked at Epirus’s imposing walls, her mind brooding.

Knowing that boy, I expected him to use the confusion the refugees caused by joining us to launch a surprise attack, but nothing happened.

She was torn between relief that her expectations had been proven wrong and dread at having failed to read Ryoma. Either way, the northern subjugation army was about to strike at its first major objective.

Thanks to Meltina and her subordinates’ efforts, we were able to accept the refugees relatively quickly, but the fact it went so smoothly is what worries me.

Immediately after the decision to accept the refugees was made, the nobles’ objections had caused some temporary confusion in the army, and the soldiers were upset to learn that their rations would be reduced to accommodate the newcomers. The soldiers’ discontent didn’t come as a surprise, as they risked their lives on the field of battle, but having smaller portions for the sake of noncombatants struck them as unacceptable.

Helena had initially believed that this was Ryoma’s plan.

He was hoping to stall us with this. It makes sense strategically. It would have been a viable way to make an opening for a surprise attack too.

Given the numerical disadvantage, the Mikoshiba barony couldn’t hope to challenge the northern subjugation army in open combat.

If they do try, it will be for one of two reasons. He would either do it for lack of any other choice, hoping to somehow turn the tables on us, or he would do it because he’s confident he’d win.

In that regard, accepting the refugees was a dangerous choice, but Meltina had handled the situation while aware of this. She had explained to the soldiers that the refugees were loyal Rhoadserian citizens who had rejected the Mikoshiba barony’s rule.

Mikhail’s decision to set up a reservation to house the refugees also turned out to be a good idea. Bringing noncombatants along with their army to war would have been risky, and giving the refugees shelter did help improve their emotional state.

At worst, accepting the refugees could have taken us between ten to fourteen days.

The fact that they had accomplished this in a mere few days was a major achievement. It was likely that Ryoma hadn’t expected them to handle the situation that quickly.

I knew those two had matured, yes, but...

Meeting Ryoma had spurred growth in both Meltina and Mikhail. The former grew ashamed of her ignorance, while the latter grew beyond his strict ideals of chivalry, allowing them both to approach situations from new angles. Thanks to that, they were able to function as effective aides to Queen Lupis.

But Helena was only aware of this because she had engaged with them directly, and even she hadn’t expected that the two would become so dependable. In which case, since Ryoma hadn’t seen their growth, he shouldn’t have expected it.

But did he really just miss his chance to launch a surprise attack?

Given Queen Lupis’s compassionate nature, using weak people like refugees as a weapon to corner his enemies was an effective play on Ryoma’s behalf, but it wasn’t without its risks. Even if these commoners did reject his occupation, outright expelling them from their homes would lessen his tax revenue. This plan would cost him a hefty price, and it was hard to believe that Ryoma didn’t already know that. For that reason, Helena couldn’t guess at how far Ryoma’s plan extended.

Does this mean he did it to achieve something else?

That doubt gnawed at Helena, but she didn’t have the time to crack that riddle. Besides, thinking about it now wouldn’t help.

That’s the reconnaissance unit we sent to scout out the situation in Epirus. They look discomposed.

Helena narrowed her eyes and spotted a group approaching from afar, their steeds kicking up a cloud of dust. Her intuition whispered to her that their arrival would mark a turning point, the start of an opportunity that would greatly change the outcome of this battle.