Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 19 - Chapter Ep

Epilogue

A fortress built in the Tilt Mountains marked the border between the Wortenia Peninsula and the Kingdom of Rhoadseria. It was an impregnable stronghold built along a naturally defensive position.

Standing outside this fort, Lupis Rhoadserians’s northern subjugation army rushed in to launch its third siege battle that day. Countless arrows flew over the fortress walls toward them, blotting out the sky. Those arrows soon arced downward, becoming a merciless rain that plummeted down on the charging troops, claiming their lives.

The outcome was screaming and death. Red stains spread across the soil, but the barrage didn’t stop the northern subjugation army’s charge. As their comrades tumbled lifelessly to the ground, soldiers stepped over their dead bodies, holding up simple wooden shields to survive the hail of arrows and march on the fortress.

Countless arrows stabbed into the shields they held overhead, giving them the appearance of porcupines. Even so, their governors ordered them to fill out the moat, and they couldn’t refuse. Unsure of how long their wooden shields would last, some carried sandbags for extra protection.

Next, more arrows and ceramic jars full of oil, stuffed with burning rags, greeted them. The area around the fortress was now occupied by two types of corpses: those shot dead by arrows and those burned alive by the flames.

The sight repeated over and over; the soldiers’ commanders repeated their reckless orders, instructing their soldiers to continue their blind charge. Even the nobles realized on some level that both tactically and strategically, this was nothing but a meaningless gesture.

“We can’t! Tell the family head that charging any longer will get us nowhere! We need to fall back and regroup!” one man shouted, his helmet covered in blood and mud. His plate armor, a family heirloom, was almost always polished to a sheen, yet now it was completely covered in filth. Usually, he would have ordered his attendants to clean it by now, but at this moment, appearances were the least of his concerns.

Dammit! Their shots have so much force to them. I didn’t think they’d penetrate my armor.

Thankfully, the hits he took missed his vitals, so it didn’t influence his ability to fight, but whether this luck would persist was up to the goddess of fate’s whimsy. A single hit at the wrong spot would be all it took to do him in.

A normal bow and arrow would never produce such results. His armor was designed with the idea that the knight wearing it would be using martial thaumaturgy, making it much sturdier and better protected than ordinary plate mail alone. Thanks to that, most blows could not damage its wearer. A normal arrow would, at most, scratch the armor’s surface.

It was for this reason that, in this world, bows and arrows were not considered a viable form of weaponry. This wasn’t to say they were never used in siege warfare, but the most accepted way of fighting in this world was melee combat using martial thaumaturgy.

Of course, heavy armor has its disadvantages, mostly in the form of reduced mobility, but the overwhelming defense it afforded its wearer more than made up for that flaw, granting them a decided advantage on the field of battle. Only a tightly drawn bow could penetrate armor this thick. Still, the fact that the armor protected him from fatal injury meant this man was much better off than his fellow soldiers. Strewn across the soil all around him were the corpses of conscripts who didn’t have the luxury of expensive armor.

Taking revenge for the previous head? Such stupidity! If the head wanted revenge for his dead father’s murder, he’d be standing in the front lines with us! Why do I have to risk my life in this war?!

Anger and resentment brewed in the man’s heart. He was one of the knights in the service of the Eisenbach county. As a high-ranking knight, he had authority over a force of one hundred knights. Normally, fighting on the front lines would be below him. But Count Eisenbach had ordered him to participate directly and break the stalemate.

Since they’d chosen not to engage in protracted war, their only way to lay siege to this fortress would be by going on an all-out offensive, which meant someone had to command the vanguard. Even if he knew that they’d be fighting on the entrance to hell...

Unfortunately for him, the fickle goddess of fate did not smile at the man again.

He felt a dull impact on his head and heard the sound of metal ringing out. Then his consciousness went dark and cut off at once. It was the moment his life flickered out, like a light being turned off at the flick of a switch.

♱

As the sounds of shouting and yelling echoed from outside the fortress, Ryoma and Koichiro sat in one of the fortress’s rooms, taking afternoon tea. Though they were in the middle of a siege, they were acting at their leisure. The Malfist sisters, who stood on both sides of their table, wore cheerful expressions as well.

The bitter fragrance of Qwiltantian tea hung in the air, complimenting the sournesses of the fruit skins Kikuna Samejima kneaded into their cookies and forming an exquisite balance of flavor. With this atmosphere, no one would believe they were at the heart of a battlefield, but despite this, even Ryoma understood that this wasn’t the time and place. Unlike most tea parties, everyone present was wearing heavy armor. That didn’t justify the out of place event, but no one seemed to care enough to point that out.

Talk about complacency, Ryoma thought to himself as he munched on a cookie and glanced out the window.

From where he sat, he couldn’t see the first layer of walls, where the fighting was ongoing. Fort Tilt had three layers of walls, and Ryoma’s study was far behind the third layer. Listening carefully, he could hear the sound of over two hundred thousand people fighting on both sides, but he couldn’t possibly see the combat taking place at the first layer.

“You seem quite composed,” Koichiro said, looking at Ryoma with an upturned glance.

“Do I? I’ll have you know I’m pretty nervous right now.” Ryoma shrugged, yet the smile on his lips spoke to his true feelings.

“I suppose you would be confident, given all the preparations you made,” Koichiro mused.

“I guess... I think I did the best I could to prepare for this, if I do say so myself.”

The Malfist sisters nodded in affirmation. They knew better than anyone how much Ryoma had prepared for this war.

“Indeed, Master Ryoma. Boltz has been putting forth every effort to build Fort Tilt ever since you came to govern Wortenia.”

“Sara is right. No army could topple this stronghold by relying only on brute force.”

That was no exaggeration. The deep moats and abatis weren’t the only things keeping the enemies away. The fortress was divided into three sectors, each separated by tall walls. Even if they managed to penetrate the first wall and invaded the fort’s interior, Ryoma’s army was prepared to push them back.

“A truly impregnable fort. No, on this scale, it can only be called a stronghold,” Laura said. Ryoma nodded, satisfied.

Fort Tilt was a key position for the Mikoshiba barony and very much its lifeline, so a great deal of effort and resources had been invested into developing it.

Seeing Ryoma’s reaction, Koichiro gave him a curious look. “I’ve been questioning for a long time why you didn’t name Fort Tilt the ‘Tilt Stronghold.’ Once this war ends, you’re planning on this site only serving as a checkpoint for gathering supplies, yes?”

Koichiro had had his doubts about it for some time. To begin with, the standard to determine what kind of defensive installation a place could be called was vague. Castles were clearly the best kind of defensive positions, while forts were generally considered minor defensive facilities compared to strongholds or castles. By contrast, a stronghold came across as more threatening, with a scale equaling or exceeding a castle.

Even then, in Japan’s Warring States period, there were forts made of stones that were as sturdy as any castle, and there were simple, shingle-roofed castles. With that in mind, the standards of how a defensive installation was named only seemed even more vague. One also had to consider that the reasons for building a fortress weren’t limited to defensive installations. Forts could be set up to secure an offensive position.

With so many opinions, the semantics of naming defensive installations were complicated. Other factors included the importance of the position in which they were built. However, considering its position in the Tilt Mountains and the importance of its position—to safeguard the highway to Sirius—its scale did seem closer to a stronghold.

Sensing Koichiro’s doubts, Ryoma smiled wryly. “I understand your misgivings, grandpa, but honestly, the reasons are pretty minor.”

“That is to say?”

“It’s simple, really. When I built this place, I had to get permission from Count Salzberg. I figured calling it a fort rather than a stronghold would make it easier for him to consent.”

At the time, Ryoma had needed to make all sorts of arrangements to properly start governing Wortenia. From the start, Count Salzberg had been wary of the upstart baron who’d become his next door neighbor. Of course, Ryoma had no intention of needlessly provoking the count, but on the other hand, he realized that securing the Tilt Mountains as a defensive position was absolutely necessary to defend his realm. Even back then, Ryoma had been preparing for a future war with Lupis Rhoadserians.

Knowing this, Ryoma had worded himself carefully when building Fort Tilt. There wasn’t much difference between saying, “I’m building a fort,” and “I’m building a stronghold,” but the wording mattered when asking Count Salzberg for permission, since the latter would make him less likely to consent.

Koichiro nodded, satisfied with the explanation, and brought the cup to his lips. “I see... Then let me take this chance to ask you another question.” He directed a probing glance at his grandson. “What do you plan to do next? Just sit in this fortress and wait for the enemy’s supplies to run out?”

Ryoma smiled. The razing of Epirus had whittled down the enemy numbers significantly, but their remaining 170,000 soldiers were still a threat. By contrast, Ryoma only had slightly over 30,000 troops. Considering that the Mikoshiba barony was a up-and-coming regional governor’s faction, those numbers were astounding, but they still didn’t match the sheer size of the Rhoadserian army.

Ryoma had spun all sorts of plots to narrow down the numerical disadvantage, but the difference in size between the two armies was still vast. Considering this difference, holing up in his fort seemed the safest option.

But that’s just on the surface.

A large army was certainly a threat, but it inevitably had many weak spots. Especially in this army, the nobles’ alliance convoluted the chain of command, meaning that the larger the army was, the more weaknesses it had. More fatal than even that was that a large army consumed supplies and equipment at an extraordinary rate. There was no telling how many supplies this army would have to consume in a protracted war. Even if they prepared the most meticulous supply plan, it would fail sooner or later. In this regard, holing up within Fort Tilt, with its natural defenses, was not just a viable option, but also the safest one.

That wouldn’t be any fun, though.

Focusing on defense and turtling up would eventually deplete the northern subjugation army’s supplies, forcing them to retreat, but Ryoma considered acting more proactively to take out their food supply. Moreover, he’d already completed the preparations for this plan. Its aim was the same as forcing the Epirus residents who rejected him onto Queen Lupis before razing their city.

Ryoma shrugged at his grandfather’s question. “Well, no matter how sturdy Fort Tilt’s walls might be, staying on the defensive is going to take a toll on morale sooner or later, so I figured we need to have a change of pace right about now.”

Depending on who heard these words, they would come across as very vague, but Koichiro understood him perfectly.

“Hmm, come to think of it, I haven’t seen those two for a few days now. I thought they were guarding the first wall, but they were never well suited for defending a fort,” Koichiro said.

It seemed Koichiro had realized something, and his guess was apparently correct.

Those two are commanders suited for both attack and defense, but they really are more offensive. Having them wait around in a fortress’s defensive line would be a waste of their talents.

This was why Ryoma had ordered them to handle another job—a lethal plot that would deliver a blow to topple the northern subjugation army. To enable that, Ryoma had asked Nelcius and his dark elves to create something for him.

If all goes according to schedule, they should be halfway up the river Thebes right around now.

Ryoma answered Koichiro with a savage smile. The Thebes was a long, winding river similar in size to the Yellow River or the Yangtze River in Ryoma’s world. While sailing along it would be faster than going on foot, the journey would still take a while, especially when trying to move about stealthily.

But the fact it doesn’t require the wind makes it that much faster.

This was part of why Ryoma had invested so many funds into this plan, and so he was confident in this idea. He could vividly imagine that the woman known as the Whirlwind and the twin blades he’d lent her would quietly sneak in and stab Lupis Rhoadserians’s northern subjugation army in its entrails.

♱

A few days later, as thick clouds hid the moon from sight, casting the world into dark night, a ship appeared from the bottom of the river that supported Rhoadseria’s agriculture, the Thebes. Anyone who saw this sight would surely doubt their eyes. The first thing that came to mind were faint, wavering lights. From a distance, it looked as if will-o’-the-wisps were dancing across the river’s surface.

The source of that light was single lamps dangling off the bows of the boats, lighting the way, but in the darkness, it would be easy to confuse them for something else.

What’s more, the boats looked quite unusual. The whole vessel was dyed black, giving it an ominous impression that conjured an image of imposing death. In such a dark night, it would surely feel as if the grim reaper himself was sailing across the waters, seeking to claim the souls of the dead.

In addition, for whatever reason, these boats were sailing up the river, against the current. It almost looked like they were opposing the very rules of nature. After all, ships essentially only sailed downstream. This was a fundamental law that applied in any world.

A boat sailing downstream was a normal sight. Depending on the strength of the current, it could eventually reach as far as the sea by surrendering itself to the river’s flow.

However, that wasn’t true for boats trying to sail upstream. One could go so far as to say that it was fighting the rules of nature. The crew would have to use oars or paddles, or rely on the wind with sails to do so. In the most extreme case, they would have to connect the boat to horses that rode along the riverside to tow the ship against the current. Any of those methods would be conspicuous.

Nevertheless, these boats sailed silently across the water. They had no sails or oars, to say nothing of horses towing the boat along. Despite that, the boats were sliding across the water and moving upstream.

Their hulls were long, slender, and graceful, and they were likely flat-bottomed boats. They sailed up the stream with startling speed, and in large numbers at that. It was hard to count them in the dark, but there were certainly more than a dozen or two, if not double that.

Anyone who saw them would be tempted to believe this was some kind of otherworldly sight, but the ones riding the boats were neither gods nor devils, but mere humans. The effortless travel was no divine miracle; it was the work of the dark elves’ endowed thaumaturgy, which required the boats’ passengers to simply spin a propeller installed on the vessels. The boats were dyed black to optimize stealthy movement under the cover of night, out of consideration for the mission’s unique nature.

The lamps dangling on the boats’ bows were there for safety reasons. All the ships’ crew members could use martial thaumaturgy, allowing them to see keenly in the dark, but the light made it easier to confirm the distance between boats and prevent collisions. So while an onlooker might be taken aback at the boats’ fearsome appearances, they looked the way they did out of consideration for utility.

It’s not that they have no reason to call us demons anyway, though.

If they were to accomplish the mission their lord gave them, the Kingdom of Rhoadseria would be plunged into further chaos and bloodshed. From the enemy’s perspective, they would feel as if they’d been cast into this plight at the hands of terrible demons, so seeing these boats as some kind of otherworldly evil would not be entirely inaccurate.

We are working for the Devil of Heraklion, after all.

Such thoughts crossed Robert’s mind as he stood in the ship’s bow, his arms crossed as he gazed ahead.

Honestly, that man looks like a god or a saint to those on his side, but to his enemies, he feels more like a devil.

Ryoma was certainly a compassionate man. He wasn’t merciless like the nobles were; he didn’t see people as tools to be used until they broke. He was trustworthy, and on top of that, resourceful enough to promote mercenaries into his generals and welcome enemy commanders to his side.

One example of this was the House of Lords’ bailiff, Douglas Hamilton. Though he had received money under the table from Ryoma, he’d still obeyed Duke Hamilton’s orders to harass the young baron. He had subjected Ryoma to a body check, which had long since been unnecessary for nobles, and forced him to disarm himself. Also, before the questioning began, he’d kept Ryoma for hours on end in a room that was essentially a prison cell. He didn’t hurt Ryoma physically, but Douglas had treated him in a way that any ordinary noble would resent.

But even Douglas was part of the Mikoshiba barony now, his family living in the city of Sirius. If Ryoma had the patience of an ordinary noble, Douglas and his family would have been dead by now. This reflected greatly on Ryoma’s nature.

On the other hand, Ryoma could be extremely cold and calculating when the need called for it. He always acted out of good reason, but his severe, iron will struck dignity and fear into the hearts of all who saw him.

They say the talented are equipped with both good and evil. He truly is a natural leader.

Ryoma had spent a fortune on buying slaves, only to free them and allow them to live in his domain as his citizens. Any noble who heard that would sneer at his naivety, but at the same time, Ryoma had used the Epirus citizens who refused his rule as a tool in starvation tactics—a vile idea indeed.

Robert’s appraisal was accurate, but the fact remained that Ryoma was an easy master to serve under. Robert held no complaints. Though he wouldn’t confess it to Ryoma’s face, he very much enjoyed serving him.

It’s definitely never boring with him around.

As a warrior, Ryoma was nearly Robert’s and Ignus’s equal. The two of them had the advantage in their mastery of martial thaumaturgy, but Ryoma was the more capable martial artist by a wide margin. Plus, on top of his martial prowess, Ryoma was capable in both internal and external affairs.

Of course, Robert and Signus were both transcendent warriors and highly capable commanders. In fact, if their families hadn’t shunned them, they could have become royal knights and distinguished themselves. And if their careers had gone far enough, one of them could have been nominated to succeed Helena as general in chief.

Be that as it may, even distinguished commanders like them were unfamiliar with a country’s internal and external affairs. They also couldn’t involve themselves in the development of new weapons, machines, and medicine like Ryoma could.

Just look at these boats. Apparently, they’re based on something called “longships” from the other world. I knew he was working with Nelcius and Simone to make something, but I didn’t think they’d make something like this. Just how many aces is he hiding up his sleeve?

The very idea of sailing up a river without the use of oars or paddles was entirely alien to the people of this world. To make it possible, Ryoma had made deals with the dark elves and the people of Myest.

The whole process was mind-boggling for Robert. These kinds of novel ideas would surely be what enabled the Mikoshiba barony’s victory. Whenever that thought crossed Robert’s mind, his fist clenched up in excitement.

I feel like a kid before his first battle...

Robert Bertrand was excited by what was to come.

Ryoma Mikoshiba... A conqueror that rose up from the lowborn...

The idea of a commoner who came from nowhere, only to win a war that divided a country in half felt like a hero’s mythological story. It was hard to tell at this point if he would win this war too, but win or lose, Ryoma Mikoshiba’s name would leave an indelible mark on Rhoadseria’s history books.

Helping such a hero with his ambitions, participating in such a massive war... As a warrior, Robert longed for nothing more, so he restrained his raging heart, dreaming of the time when he would sink his favored war axe into his master’s foes.

All that’s left is for that woman to move the way we need, but we’ll just have to believe the lord’s promises.

The preparations were quite thorough. If all went as planned, Ryoma would put an end to Rhoadseria’s long history. The reality of war, however, was that even the most meticulous of plans could go awry, and as a seasoned warrior, Robert knew this all too well. His biggest doubt right now was a woman boarding this very boat—the very same woman who now spoke up from behind him.

“It should take a few more days,” the source of his doubts said as she walked right in front of him.

Normally, Robert might have been shaken up and let his unease show in his voice and gestures, but this time he turned to look at her and bowed his head respectfully. Even though they were to put aside rank during this voyage, she was still another country’s royalty. Additionally, she was the greatest contributor to this operation, so Robert couldn’t risk acting discourteous toward her.

“Yes. I’m not sure how to thank you, Lady Ecclesia.” Robert bowed impeccably, an unusual gesture for this otherwise uncouth man. If it weren’t for Ecclesia Marinelle’s contribution, this voyage would have been much more difficult.

Nevertheless, Ecclesia didn’t seem to think she was doing anything that merited such gratitude. “I’m not doing much. I only asked the Myest border control troops stationed near our side of the Thebes’s mouth to let us through and act like they saw nothing.”

There was no arrogance or irony to her tone. She genuinely thought she merely played her allotted role in this.

Robert responded to her with a nod.

Given her position, it probably really didn’t take much effort, but that doesn’t make her contribution any smaller.

Ecclesia Marinelle was one of the Kingdom of Myest’s most prized generals, so asking the border guards for a minor favor didn’t even count as a flex of her influential might. Even so, her doing so had allowed Robert and his forces to sail up the Thebes undetected so far.

Ecclesia, however, shook her head. “Besides, it’s too soon to thank me. We still have a big task ahead of us.”

“Of course. But still, I didn’t think someone in your position would be fighting on our side. Signus doesn’t let it show on his face, but he probably feels the same as me.”

“Believe me, I never imagined things would come to this either.” Ecclesia smiled mischievously, like a child who’d successfully pulled off a prank. “The fame of Count Salzberg’s Twin Blades has reached Myest as well. Though I suppose I should call you Count Mikoshiba’s Twin Blades now, yes? It’s a curious thing, the way the wheel of fate spins.”

Robert could only answer with a bitter smile, but he soon gave words to his doubts.

“Are you sure this was right, though?”

It was a vague question. Robert usually wouldn’t beat around the bush like this, but the topic at hand was sensitive. In contrast to Robert, Ecclesia’s expression remained unchanged.

“The person you see now is a Myest-born mercenary by the name of Ecclesia,” she replied calmly. “As a mercenary, I will work to earn my pay and abide by my employer’s orders. Nothing more and nothing else, yes?”

She flashed Robert a smile that hid no guilt whatsoever. Indeed, Ecclesia likely didn’t feel any regret in her choice at all.

Robert looked slightly taken aback. “I mean, all that is true, but...”

If one were to consider her a mercenary, Ecclesia’s words were accurate, but the reality was that the woman speaking to him was Myest’s general, and Robert wasn’t sure how easily he could accept her cover story. This wasn’t to say that Robert wanted nothing to do with her, though, and he knew of the secret pact made between Baron Mikoshiba and the Kingdom of Myest.

But the three kingdoms of the western continent’s east have at times clashed, only to unite at other times to repel common enemies and defend themselves. To think Myest would turn away from that arrangement so easily...

When he considered the unique relationship the three kingdoms harbored, Robert felt a twinge of unease about Ecclesia. If this plan were to succeed, the Rhoadserian kingdom would collapse, and that wasn’t necessarily in Myest’s interests.

Ecclesia’s smile didn’t waver, though. “Our kingdom, Myest, is a country of commerce and trade, and trust is a necessity in business. Once we’ve made a pact and have been paid accordingly, we would never betray a business partner. That’s both Myest’s pride and the greatest commodity we boast. All the same, our country isn’t like merchants who place importance strictly on business.”

“You mean...your people?”

“Yes. A nation is made up of its subjects and their livelihoods, and a country’s biggest duty is to ensure the safety and stability of its people. It is for this reason a sovereign and his retainers exist. However...”

“Lupis Rhoadserians isn’t worthy of joining forces with?”

Ecclesia didn’t answer, but the expression on her face made her thoughts quite clear.

For a while, silence hung between the two of them. After some time, Ecclesia spoke quietly.

“Does that alleviate your doubts?”

Robert flashed a savage smile and once again bowed, apologizing for his impoliteness.

A few days later, a group of 2,500 troops appeared on the plains near Heraklion, a large city in southern Rhoadseria. They had but one goal: to stab their enemy in the back, where they would be most defenseless. This invasion would go on to greatly affect the state of the war far to the north...