Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 19 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Empty Fort Scheme

An impromptu war council was called to receive the scout unit’s report, and all the leaders of the northern subjugation gathered in the central tent.

“The Mikoshiba barony’s soldiers aren’t inside Epirus?! That... How can that be?!” Queen Lupis cried in disbelief. Her voice was full of suspicion and surprise.

As the commander of the scout unit knelt before her, Queen Lupis looked at him dubiously. Meltina and the other nobles nearby, like Count Eisenbach, reacted much the same. Some of them even looked at the captain with scorn.

Seeing this, Helena softly sighed. I doubt he’s lying, but this report really is hard to believe.

The report stated that the citadel city of Epirus was completely empty of both the Mikoshiba barony’s soldiers and its tens of thousands of residents. This news was understandably difficult to swallow.

But why would the captain lie?

If this captain was in cahoots with the Mikoshiba barony and gave a false report to lure the northern subjugation army into a trap, they would have come up with a more convincing lie.

Whether we can believe him is another matter, though.

From the captain’s perspective, this must have felt like a terribly unreasonable situation. After having been charged with the dangerous task of investigating Epirus, he returned from his task only to have the legitimacy of his report called into question. One couldn’t fault him for being angry at this unreasonable treatment.

Still, the citadel city was an indispensable defensive position to retain control over northern Rhoadseria. The thought of the Mikoshiba barony discarding this fortification without so much as a single fight was unthinkable. It was clear, however, that doubting the report’s validity would get them nowhere.

In which case, our only option is to send another scout unit to check.

This was the best response if they truly doubted the report.

If we do send another and find out the report is false, that’s fine. If they lied on purpose, they will simply be put through a court-martial and executed. If they got the situation wrong through some ploy Ryoma cooked up, they can’t quite be faulted. But...what if their report is actually true?

Normally, if they found the city empty, their next logical step would be to occupy it. Whatever trap might be lying in wait for them, Epirus was still a key target for the northern subjugation army.

But would that really be the right choice?

No one present could answer that question.

“For now, let’s send out another scout unit to confirm the report, and we’ll decide how to act going forward once we’ve done that,” Meltina suggested.

Knowing that they were getting nowhere with this, the others all reluctantly agreed. Only Helena kept her arms crossed as she wordlessly considered Ryoma’s plan, believing this was the best thing she could do at the moment.

A few hours later, the second scout unit reported back, and as Helena had suspected would happen, the northern subjugation army moved in to occupy Epirus the following morning. Unfortunately, Helena, suppressed by the voices of greedy fools, did not stop this—for she didn’t know it would be the beginning of a new tragedy.

The following day, Helena stood atop a small hill, watching as the northern subjugation army passed through the gates into Epirus’s walls. Standing beside her were Queen Lupis and Meltina, their expressions a mix of expectation and unease. Meltina in particular looked tense, and even Helena could tell she was on tenterhooks. Her hands were clasped together and trembling slightly.

“Were we just being overly cautious?” Meltina muttered.

Helena shrugged. “It’s hard to say at this point. But whichever way things go, I do think you did all that you could.”

On the surface, everything seemed to be going well, but all three women questioned how much they could believe this situation. Meltina was the one who’d proposed they occupy Epirus, and although it was Queen Lupis who had finalized the decision, Meltina still wavered, wondering if her judgment was correct.

She doesn’t have faith in her own decision. I can understand that. We were shocked when we heard that they left their supplies and weapons behind when they evacuated the city. It almost feels too good to be true.

The report from the second scout unit had come as a major surprise to Helena. As the first report had stated, the Mikoshiba barony’s army wasn’t stationed within Epirus. All the foodstuff and valuables in storefronts and civilian homes were left as is, and warehouses all over the city were discovered to house caches of military supplies.

With the northern subjugation army marching on them, it was possible the Mikoshiba barony’s army chose to evacuate the city posthaste, and there were signs that they’d taken some supplies with them, which implied the army had abandoned Epirus in a hurry.

The situation did suggest this was the plausible conclusion, and Helena had no physical proof to suggest this was a trap. Even so, she commanded this army, so she had to assume something was amiss and adopt countermeasures in case of this contingency. Meltina would have acted the same, and so would Mikhail, who had returned to the capital to build a new supply network.

Sadly, one’s judgment wasn’t always driven by rationality. When it was driven by greed, people made painfully foolish choices sometimes.

Given the situation, I can see why they’d jump at the first sight of prey.

The northern subjugation army was made up of many nobles, but most of them were barons and viscounts. While they were low-ranking compared to other nobles, the commoners still saw them as part of the lofty ruling class.

However, just as the pantheons of the gods had hierarchies, so too did the Rhoadserian aristocracy. Such nobles were ranked the lowest of all aristocrats, and their domains were smaller. Barons were inferior to viscounts, who themselves were inferior to counts. The higher one’s rank was, the larger their domain. And the size of a domain was typically in direct proportion to its tax yield.

This meant that low-ranking nobles were by no means as wealthy as the commoners thought. Ryoma Mikoshiba was a baron who’d been given the Wortenia Peninsula, a land large enough to be considered a duke’s domain, and Viscount Gelhart’s domain was very financially prosperous despite his demotion, but those were exceptions. Most barons only ruled a handful of rural villages, and the tax yield of such lands was small.

Nobles needed money to fund their armies and internal affairs, and also maintain their dignity and appearance as nobles, so they were always short on coin. For those with lesser titles, war was a painful duty, but at the same time, it was an opportunity to escape their financial woes.

It feels contradictory.

Normally, war was nothing but a major expenditure. Drafting commoners into levies was indeed cheaper than hiring mercenaries and soldiers of fortune, but they still needed supplies and weapons to fight. War was fundamentally a money sink instead of a lucrative venture.

That was only a superficial approach to the nature of war, though. For instance, when fighting the people of another country, captives were sold off as slaves for large sums of money, a practice that was accepted as the natural privilege of those who won. In addition, pillaging enemy countries was an easy source of money.

If one intended to occupy the country, though, pillaging was terrible. Ravaging the land you went to such great lengths to conquer would impact your income in the long run. On the other hand, this only concerned the noble who ended up receiving the raided land, and only counts and dukes were typically given this honor.

Low-ranking nobles have fewer troops compared to high-ranking ones, so unless they’re extremely talented in commanding armies, it’s not likely they’ll contribute more than a count or duke. 

It was the very image of a society where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, so to many low-ranking nobles, the immediate reward of being able to pillage villages or cities was much more lucrative in the immediate sense than whatever vague rewards they might receive from the country’s sovereign.

These nobles could see that Epirus was a veritable mountain of treasure waiting to be plundered, so they had no semblance of restraint as they scrambled to get their share. They ravenously asked Queen Lupis and the other commanding officers for permission to rush the city.

The sight Helena was watching right now was the outcome of that. Thirty thousand men, roughly fifteen percent of the northern subjugation army, were marching into Epirus. That was a considerable number of troops.

We were at least able to limit how many nobles entered the city under the condition that the loot they pillage will be split equally tomorrow.

They knew there was a chance Mikoshiba barony had set traps, but the nobles ignored their warning. Therefore, Helena only had one strategy to employ—to use those who ignored her warnings as a canary in the coal mine. And the canary’s fate in this scenario was sealed.

Of course, Helena intended to do what was possible to help them. She divided the remaining units in four and stationed them around the city to serve as reinforcements in case something happened. Still, Helena’s anxiety lingered on.

All that’s left is to pray they’ll be fine.

Nonetheless, Helena knew this was hypocritical of her. Even if they had volunteered to do so, it was she, as commander of this army, that possibly sent them to their deaths. Even so, her hope that they would emerge unscathed was genuine. As greedy as the nobles were, they were still comrades flying her banner, and she did not wish for their deaths.

Despite Helena’s wishes, the reaper’s scythe was already swooping toward the northern subjugation army’s neck.

♱

The citadel city of Epirus was the domain of the Salzberg county and the lynchpin of their position as leader of the ten houses of the north. As the center of northern Rhoadseria, it was one of the country’s oldest and most flourishing cities, as well as a fearsome bulwark that had repelled multiple invasions.

Yet, Ryoma Mikoshiba’s war with Count Salzberg had jeopardized Epirus’s status as an impregnable fortification, and on this day, invaders once again entered the city walls with the intent of pillaging its riches.

The sun was dipping behind the horizon, casting a reddish glow over the land. It looked as if the world was burning in flickering fire, and in a sense, perhaps it was. It was currently burning with the fires of greed.

Half a day has passed since the northern subjugation army had begun occupying Epirus that morning, and forty percent of the city had been searched. Most of the efforts were focused on Count Salzberg’s estates, as well as the estates and storefronts of merchants who had managed the city’s finances for many years, such as the Mystel and Rafael companies. There were still some sectors that needed to be checked, like the refugee sectors built by the walls, but one could very well say the city was safe.

Not that the soldiers inside Epirus thought that they were inspecting the city to ensure it was safe. Helena did warn them about the possibility of a trap, so at first the soldiers were wary of a possible raid, but after half a day, they hadn’t run into anyone, animal or human alike, to say nothing of an enemy soldier. They had searched the larger buildings too, where soldiers could be hiding, but had found nothing. If the Mikoshiba barony soldiers were still hiding somewhere, their numbers were small—maybe a few hundred. On the off chance that they were spread out, there were at most two or three thousand of them.

Of course, even if they only had a total of a few thousand troops, that number could still be a potential threat. However, the garrison that now occupied Epirus was a total of thirty thousand troops—over ten times that size. The difference was too great for any army to overcome. Plus, the rest of the northern subjugation army was still on guard outside the wall. Normally, their victory in this battle would have seemed like a forgone conclusion.

Thanks to that, the soldiers who were initially wary of an enemy attack grew confident that they’d won and therefore began neglecting their original roles, instead busying themselves with their secondary goal. It wasn’t just the soldiers carrying out the work either; even the officers and the nobles leading them only cared about pillaging their own mountains of treasure.

“Oooh, wow. Now this is some fine craftsmanship. I’d bet it’s worth at least three gold.”

One soldier who burst into an empty civilian room raised his voice gleefully as he took a valuable out of a drawer. The soldiers around him cursed at him in envy.

“What are you, daft?” Another soldier called out, hoping to disparage the value of his colleague’s discovery. “It’s worth five silvers at most!”

“This hairpin! It’s got amber in it! I wasn’t expecting much from such a seedy house, but this here is a catch!”

“I’d say! I feel bad about having to share with the men keeping watch outside, but I’ll be fine if I can keep this!”

Their vulgar laughter echoed through Epirus’s streets. To them, this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance at wealth. Most household assets had been left behind, along with food and other luxuries like cigarettes and alcohol.

Not all of this would go directly into these pillagers’ pockets, though. At Helena’s instructions, half of the precious metals would be left outside the city, while the rest of the goods would be split up equally among the units. All the same, with so much loot, even just half of the yield would be enough to sate their greed. They could use this gold for booze, or women, or both, but either way, they would be able to experience luxuries a commoner was unlikely to ever know in his entire life. That emotion filled them with elation, so they vanished into Epirus’s buildings, seeking further riches.

The soldiers left behind decided to start a feast in the streets. Sitting on a table were bottles of alcohol, as well as bacon and cheese, all probably pilfered from kitchens. The soldiers gleefully drank straight from the bottle and feasted on the cheese like they were drunk on victory.

They were unaware of the masked figures who silently watched their festivities from afar, hidden in a building’s attic.

“Lady Sakuya. As expected, they’re greedily scavenging the city. From the looks of things, they’ll be drinking the night away,” one figure said, gazing at the goings-on beneath them through a peephole.

Sakuya nodded. “Just as Lord Ryoma predicted.”

With this, things should go as planned.

The mission Ryoma had entrusted to Sakuya Igasaki was larger in scale than anything she had ever experienced. 130 skilled Igasaki ninjas spread out across the capital were to eliminate tens of thousands of soldiers—a ploy to turn the tables dramatically.

As the leader charged with this mission’s success, Sakuya was under a great deal of pressure. She’d prepared enough to be able to confidently say they were ready, but she couldn’t deny the possibility of failure remained high. The Igasaki ninjas had to remain hidden as they waited for the right chance.

Hours ticked by, and finally the time came as the people downstairs began their foolish celebration.

Clouds hung over the moon, casting the earth into darkness. It was a pitch black night, with only the occasional stray ray of pale moonlight shining through the clouds to join the flickering of what few torches shone around Epirus.

“The time is now.”

Sakuya swept her hand horizontally through the air. At this gesture, all the shadowy figures around her vanished at once, scattering into the city’s streets. Some thirty minutes later, a bright flash suddenly erupted from Count Salzberg’s estate at the heart of the city, followed by a thundering rumble that shook the dark night. Then a shock wave that rattled the very ground around Epirus struck the northern subjugation army.

Following that, in what seemed like a chain reaction, a series of explosions ran along the walls of the city, their shock waves and thundering rumbles startling a soldier that was celebrating his fortune and victory just moments ago and forcing him to bolt out of the house he was pillaging.

The sight that greeted him was that of the citadel city engulfed in a burning inferno. All the civilian homes standing along the streets were on fire, flames billowing from their windows and spewing out black smoke. Red sparks and white ashes flitted down like snow.

It was a picture of hell.

“What...is this...?”

Such a sight should not have been possible. True, if someone had knocked down a candlestick in a drunken stupor, it could have started a fire, but even if someone had done that, the fire would have consumed a single house. If the fire spread, it wouldn’t reach every single building in the area. Even if attempts to put it out failed, it would still take a while for the blaze to spread this far.

Yet this impossible scene was playing out before the soldier’s eyes. He felt the heat against his skin, forcibly affirming that this could not have been a dream. Overwhelmed by the sight, the soldier could only watch in amazement and crumble to his knees.

Not all the soldiers were crushed by this sight, of course. Some were trying to fight off the inferno, but their efforts were in vain.

“We have to get water!” One soldier hurried to the well, hoping to scoop up water to extinguish the flames, but curses and insults were hurled his way as he did.

“Are you stupid?! Look at this fire! You think splashing some water’s going to help with this?! Hurry up and get out of the city!”

“He’s right, we have to get out of here!”

“You’re the stupid ones!” the man hurrying to the well retorted. “Do you have any idea how far we are from the gates?! We’ll just end up catching fire and burning to death!”

The soldiers shouting at him fell silent, unable to argue back. Exchanges like this could be heard all over the city, and in some of them, the soldiers were foolish enough to get into actual verbal arguments despite the state of emergency.

None of them knew whether they should flee or put out the fire. Scooping up water from a well wouldn’t be enough to extinguish a fire this large, but with all the buildings on fire, getting to the city gates would be a challenge.

There was no correct answer in this situation, but at the same time, if they didn’t reach the correct answer, they could very well burn to death. Because of that, everyone was shocked in the face of this situation, going every which way in the hopes of finding their way out, not realizing they were wasting precious time in doing so.

Those foolish soldiers would meet only one end.

One by one, the soldiers began to collapse, choking on the smoke, and perished alongside the riches they had craved so much, in the embrace of the flames.

♱

“Looks like it went well. With this, the thirty thousand northern subjugation soldiers that entered Epirus have been eradicated.”

Fire and smoke enveloped the citadel city. Standing atop the ramparts surrounding the city, Sakuya whispered in satisfaction as she watched the inferno below. She was elated.

But this firepower is terrifying. I didn’t think the explosives Nelcius gave us would produce such intense fire.

When Ryoma came up with this plan and sought a way to burn down Epirus rapidly, the dark elf chief Nelcius had proposed a certain concoction—a liquid known as the Fire Drake’s Breath. Normally, it was an unassuming red liquid. It was harmless to the human body, and one could even drink it with no adverse effects, but when mixed with small amounts of saltpeter and sulfur, the fluid’s properties changed.

The resulting concoction became extremely volatile, violently igniting when exposed to fire. It was a valuable fluid, which only the dark elven masters of endowed thaumaturgy were capable of creating. It was similar to nitroglycerin or gasoline in nature. The method of its creation was a guarded dark elf secret, and it could not be produced in large amounts.

The dark elves of the Wortenia Peninsula created the Fire Drake’s Breath to combat the menacing monsters and beasts prowling in the area, meaning they relied on it for survival.

Nelcius had provided twenty wagons’ worth of this precious concoction.

The Mikoshiba barony’s survival was linked to the future of the dark elves living in the peninsula, but even with that in mind, this had no doubt been a difficult decision. Nelcius’s help was what allowed the Mikoshiba barony to embark on this plan against Epirus.

The “empty fort scheme,” as the lord called it.

Sakuya recalled this name coming up in Ryoma’s explanation of the plan. This was different from the empty fort stratagem from the thirty-six ancient Chinese strategies. The original stratagem was a piece of psychological warfare based on intentionally showing weakness to the enemy to make them suspect a trap and force the enemy to retreat—like a bluff in a game of poker.

In one famous adaptation of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Zhuge Liang was forced to hide in his castle after Sima Yi of the Kingdom of Wei had defeated him. He left his gates open and played a stringed instrument. His attempt to lure the armies of Wei into his castle made Sima Yi fear a trap and retreat.

Ryoma’s plan wasn’t to drive his enemies into retreat, however, but rather to slaughter the enemy soldiers, so he had to create a situation where even if the enemy feared the possibility of a trap, they would have no choice but to charge in.

All of his plans are part of the same flow.

In board games like shogi or chess, whenever players moved a piece, they always thought several turns ahead. The way Ryoma’s mind operated was much the same.

After all, he had Nelcius prepare this.

Sakuya glanced back, at the oblong, metallic birdlike object behind her, which was covered by a cloth. It was likely designed to be difficult to spot in the night, because not just the cloth but even its metallic skeleton were dyed black.

Anyone summoned from Rearth would recognize this as a hang glider, but that wasn’t entirely true, because this one had the dark elves’ endowed thaumaturgy applied to it—a wind thaumaturgical seal.

“Let’s go!” Sakuya called out, looking around at her subordinates.

She affixed her body to the device using a rope and broke into a sprint. Running ten meters or so along the ramparts, she jumped off the high walls and threw herself into the air. The next second, Sakuya’s chakras began revolving, feeding prana to the thaumaturgical seal applied to the glider.

Sakuya felt a sense of weightlessness as her body was freed from gravity’s hold. The contraption moved according to her wheel, steering her across the sky. At that moment, a thick cloud obstructing the sky parted, revealing the pale glass moon. Her visage was like that of a black bird soaring across the night sky, guided by moonlight.

With the moonlight shining over them, several of the northern subjugation army’s soldiers spotted Sakuya and her party. They brought out bows and began shooting arrows, hoping to shoot them down, but the wind thaumaturgy allowed the gliders to fly high, beyond the reach of any arrow.

The bows can’t reach us at this altitude.

In this world, people flying through the sky was still the stuff of myths and legends. Due to the contraption’s mana consumption, they could only manage short-distance flights, but nothing could be more effective at breaking through the enemy’s encirclement.

Hee hee... Wasted effort...

As Sakuya soared, Epirus burning beneath her, she relished her brief journey through the sky. She did not yet know that Helena—who had guessed their plan when she saw the fires—was riding with the northern subjugation army to apprehend Sakuya and her unit.

♱

A few hours later, the pursuers arrived directly behind Sakuya. To shake off their pursuit, the Igasaki ninjas raced through the dark, heading northeast, their faces streaked with alarm. The hang gliders had helped them cover much necessary distance, but even with the aid of martial thaumaturgy hastening their steps, Sakuya and her party were now on foot.

Meanwhile, the unit pursuing them was made up entirely of cavalry, and they were on horseback. Had she only needed to travel a short distance, Sakuya might have been able to shake them off, but a human couldn’t outrun a horse over long distances. It was only a matter of time before the enemy caught up.

And we can’t let the enemy do that. As much as I hate to do this, we haven’t much of a choice.

The fact that one of her subordinates in the back of the line had noticed the cloud of dust their pursuers had kicked up was nothing short of a stroke of luck. It was the only way they had been able to detect them. They’d increased the velocity of the hang gliders to escape their pursuers, but that had resulted in them consuming much more mana than they’d accounted for, forcing them to land before planned and discard the gliders. Still, this was preferable to the enemy catching them and taking away their secret weapon.

They used the Fire Drake’s Breath they carried to dispose of the now useless hang gliders. After lamenting her imprudence, Sakuya swiftly ordered her subordinates to flee. Her heart was full of regret, for in her joy at seeing the plan succeed, she had become reckless.

What will I tell the lord? The thought clenched around Sakuya’s heart like a fist.

After all, the hang gliders were endowed with dark elves’ techniques, making them too valuable for mere coin to replace them. Moreover, mastering their use took a great deal of time, and producing one required ingredients collected from monsters native to Wortenia. Even if the enemy did take the gliders, they wouldn’t immediately be a threat. In this regard, they wouldn’t have needed to waste what precious little Fire Drake’s Breath they had to dispose of them.

However, they couldn’t risk the possibility of the enemy learning of the Mikoshiba barony’s technology. Such information had to be kept as secret as possible, and these secrets were, at times, worth more than money or human life. Losing an item wasn’t as big of a blow, because more could be bought or made, but once that information leaked to the enemy, there was no hiding it again.

Considering that, Sakuya’s choice to burn the gliders had been correct, but had she been more wary of the situation, this outcome could have been avoided altogether. The guilt of that realization weighed on her, but before long, the time to regret would come to an end.

Sakuya could hear the sound of horses’ hooves from behind. Ahead of them was a dense forest—the wooded area leading to the Tilt Mountains and the entrance to the Wortenia Peninsula. If they could get there, their odds of escaping would increase somewhat.

Unfortunately, Sakuya knew that the enemy would catch up to them before they could reach it. What’s more, a bright light shining from behind the ninjas was illuminating Sakuya and her men as they tried to blend in the dark. The pursuing knights had likely activated some kind of thaumaturgical tool meant for illumination.

Exposed to a light much brighter than that of a torch, the Igasaki ninjas stopped in their tracks. Then the next instant, as Sakuya and the ninjas stood frozen, a shower of arrows rained down on them.

“Lady Sakuya!”

One of the shadows following Sakuya jumped over her, shielding her with his back. The momentum of his push sent them both tumbling to the ground as a groan of agony leaked from his throat. Sakuya gritted her teeth, feeling intense pain shoot through her right thigh, and swiftly drew the kodachi sheathed at her waist.

Thankfully, she hadn’t been hit in any vital areas due to the ninja protecting her. She silently mourned the subordinate who’d saved her life by taking an arrow to the head and surveyed the situation around her.

Six of us have died. A few are still alive, but...there’s no slipping away from this.

Having been shot through the thigh, Sakuya couldn’t run any longer.

This is as far as we go... In which case!

Her cold outlook, fostered by her ninja training, denied the possibility of her surviving this, but Sakuya would impede her enemy as much as possible before she died.

Perhaps sensing Sakuya’s resolve, the pursuers carrying the light magic tool revealed themselves from the darkness. The commander of their unit showed herself, took off her helmet, and stood in front of Sakuya.

“I thought I recognized you...”

Sakuya looked up and glared at the commander.

“Helena Steiner... So it was you?” she said, her expression bitter. She gripped the kodachi behind her back, prepared to attack Helena at the first sign of weakness.

Helena had already guessed Sakuya’s plan. “It won’t work, so don’t bother.” She shrugged. “Skilled as you may be, you won’t be able to take me with those injuries.”

Helena was right. Sakuya was among the most skilled members of the Igasaki clan, and her martial arts prowess was greater than that of the average knight, but as a ninja, her expertise was in stealth and surprise attacks. By contrast, Helena was an actual knight, her expertise being in fighting opponents head-on. One could argue over which woman was stronger, but so long as they both could see each other, Helena had the advantage.

“So, are you going to torture me for information?” Sakuya asked.

Helena shook her head wryly. “I wouldn’t waste my time like that. You might believe you’ll have a chance to escape if I take you prisoner, but I know you’re not the kind of person to betray Ryoma.”

Sakuya’s eyes widened in surprise, and Helena directed a tired smile at her.

“I know. You’re like me, after all.”

These emotions were shared by those who’d been charmed by Ryoma Mikoshiba’s vision. Because of that, Helena knew that Sakuya would never betray him.

Helena unsheathed her sword, seemingly intent on dispatching Sakuya personally. “I will see you die right here...”

With that soft whisper, Helena held her sword aloft.

Milord, forgive me, for I have failed you.

Sakuya’s heart pounded with regret and resignation. Her ninja instincts, which she’d fostered since infancy, screamed at her, spurring her to strike at the enemy one last time. However...

Helena did not swing her sword down.

“Sakuya! Get back!” a man called from the woods.

Sakuya hopped back on sheer reflex. The sudden, excessive movement made the nerves in her thigh, still pierced by the arrow, explode in pain, but that reflex was what decided the outcome.

The next second, a single spear tore through the dark, hurtling toward Helena. The venerated knight shielded herself with her sword, blocking the attack and withstanding its impact. The earsplitting clatter of steel clashing with steel rang out, and sparks sprayed through the air. Helena’s face contorted in anger; the intruder had snatched this prized chance from her.

Sheathing her sword, Helena looked up at the tall young man that stepped out of the trees. “I will admit I’m shocked. I never expected to meet you here,” she said as if she were joyfully reuniting with an old friend.

The owner of the voice, Ryoma, shrugged at her, but contrary to his seemingly casual attitude, he was fully alert of his surroundings. As proof, he moved Sakuya to stand behind him, shielding her. Once he confirmed she was safe, he then slowly bowed his head to Helena.

They now met as enemies, yet an invisible bond lingered between them. The two knights standing behind Helena didn’t interrupt their conversation either.

“It’s been some time,” Ryoma said.

“Yes, it has. But what are you doing here?” Helena asked. As head of the Mikoshiba barony, Ryoma had no need to be present.

Ryoma answered with a sarcastic smile. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

Helena chuckled, as if she’d just recalled her position, but after that moment of levity, her eyes filled with bloodlust. She swiftly raised her right hand. At her signal, the knights around her dismounted their horses and drew their swords at once. The knights behind her nocked their arrows, aiming at Ryoma.

Ryoma met Helena’s signal with one of his own. He thrust his fist toward the sky, and a party clad in black emerged from the woods, bows drawn. Leading the group was Sakuya’s grandfather, Gennou Igasaki. He’d likely deployed the Igasaki clan to rescue his granddaughter.

“I see. Yes, you wouldn’t do something carelessly,” Helena said.

“I could say the same to you.” Ryoma cocked his head. “So what now? Are we going to fight? Personally, I’d prefer to take my wounded subordinate back to be treated. I’d appreciate it if you’d allow us to retreat, out of respect for our standing friendship.”

On the surface, his words lacked tenacity. Claiming that he’d “appreciate it” made it sound like he was seeking a compromise. The truth, however, was quite the opposite of that. His words were full of absolute, unwavering confidence.

Helena shrugged at Ryoma. “Yes... Very well, then.” She turned on her heels, then looked at Ryoma over her shoulder. “But that’s one favor you owe me. Remember that.”

She waved her right hand gently, signaling her subordinates to follow.

“Yes, I owe you one,” Ryoma said with a smile. “I won’t forget it. But I doubt it’ll be long before I return it. Do look forward to it.”

Ryoma picked up Sakuya, who was kneeling beside him, and walked away.

“Milord, why did you come here?” Sakuya whispered as Ryoma carried her through the woods.

Her face was flushed with shame that her respected lord was carrying her like a bride, but because of the nature of her wound, she didn’t demand to be put down.

“Well, let’s just say I had a bad feeling,” Ryoma said with a smile, closing one eye.

He didn’t give Sakuya a clear answer. If he had to say, he simply hadn’t underestimated Rhoadseria’s Ivory Goddess of War.

Besides, things usually get worse after they get better.

Ryoma sent Gennou out to scout the situation just in case, and that decision bore fruit. Sakuya didn’t ask Ryoma to elaborate any further.

Ryoma, too, held his tongue as they walked toward Fort Tilt, the day when he would lock blades with Helena on his mind.

♱

A few days later, Lupis Rhoadserians and her northern subjugation army entered the burnt remains of the citadel city of Epirus. Regardless of how it had happened, they had still claimed an important enemy position, so one would expect them to rejoice at this victory. None of the soldiers seemed overjoyed, though. The fire had claimed the lives of thirty thousand men in a single night, and all the food and supplies they had plundered had been reduced to ashes alongside them.

As a direct result, each soldier’s rations were visibly smaller. The disgruntlement that caused, coupled with the fact that they felt the refugees were eating for free, intensified the soldiers’ discontent. They began criticizing Queen Lupis for agreeing to shelter the refugees to begin with.

Meltina Lecter could easily see this.

Like I thought, we’re getting nowhere with this. Our only chance is to keep marching forward.

She considered the situation over and over, but this was her only conclusion. She couldn’t come up with another solution, so she made her decision. They would have to march their armies into the Wortenia Peninsula to attack the Mikoshiba barony’s stronghold.