Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 21 - Chapter 1.2

That night, a man and a woman shared drinks in Pireas’s castle.

“My apologies for taking so long to greet you. I’m delighted to see you return safely. One would expect no less of Rhoadseria’s Ivory Goddess of War,” said Mikhail, holding up his glass to Helena, who sat opposite him. His words were full of respect and admiration.

“Thank you.” Helena nodded and raised her own glass. “We’ve returned alive, one way or another.”

“All as per the will of the gods?”

“If I had to say, their protection does not extend to me,” Helena replied jokingly. “I suppose we can simply attribute it all to good luck.”

He likely intended to brighten up the dark spirits of the place, but his efforts were for naught. It was clear from Helena’s expression that she had forced this attempt to answer his jest.

“I see... To good luck, then.”

“Yes.”

The two sipped on bloodred wine, their expressions full of pain and regret. After all, the northern subjugation cost the lives of tens of thousands, and they weren’t above feeling the weight of responsibility for those losses.

“Honestly, I didn’t think the northern subjugation army would prove so frail or that we’d be pushed back to the Cannat Plains.”

Mikhail’s words were heavy with regret, as such a defeat meant that securing supplies was a meaningless gesture. His decision to give up on the possibility of proving his mettle on the battlefield was also worthless.

“Things were challenging on your side too,” Helena said, trying to console him. She regarded Mikhail’s work favorably, but her attempt at encouragement only made his expression cloud over.

“Yes. The incident in Epirus was simply that fatal. Even though we knew he might try to cut off our line of supplies, I never expected him to go for such a bold tactic.”

Helena nodded. “An ordinary man wouldn’t have done something that bold. It’s far too great a price to pay.”

Burning down the northern regions after he went to such great lengths to capture that land was unthinkable and would usually be a terrible tactic. Helena wouldn’t have done that if she were in Ryoma’s shoes. No one in their right mind would.

And that’s why it worked, thought Mikhail.

A bad tactic taken too far can play into one’s favor because they would know the enemy might never see it coming. The worst part was that they were up against an opponent who wouldn’t think twice about using such cruel tactics.

“I will say that our choice to rely on superior numbers wasn’t a bad idea. But since we were against that boy, we certainly overestimated their effectiveness,” Helena sighed.

“Yes,” said Mikhail, nodding slightly. “We didn’t underestimate the numbers needed by any means, but... That made us think the large army we built up would be enough to crush him.”

“That’s exactly right. Maybe I’m just losing my edge,” remarked Helena, shrugging with a self-deprecating smile.

The outcome of that was this recent defeat. Mikhail was rendered speechless but followed with a vague smile.

“Lost your edge? You’re taking your jokes too far.”

“You think? I can only hope so.” Helena tipped the bottle to fill her glass again, then took another sip.

Both drank from a bottle Mikhail got from the castle’s wine cellar. It cost more than any commoner could ever hope to get, and they were chugging it like water or cheap ale in the tavern. As far as drinking high-class wine went, Helena was doing so improperly, but tonight she very much wanted to drink her problems away.

Mikhail couldn’t find it in him to stop her, and he himself felt the same way. The two continued to sip and refill their glasses for a while.

We’ve underestimated that man. Yes, we did. But that wasn’t the only factor in our defeat.

Mikhail couldn’t deny that their overwhelmingly large army made them overconfident and complacent. Helena had made a partially accurate analysis of the situation. Relying on sheer numbers was a straightforward tactic lacking elegance and glory, but it had certainty. A smaller army overcoming a bigger one was a far more impressive achievement, and strategies that flipped the script were often the stuff of heroic tales and stories. If nothing else, they were good dramatic developments.

Realistically speaking, the side with larger numbers was typically the victor. In that regard, the northern subjugation army’s approach seemed like the right decision.

Even though we chose the right tactic, our campaign ended in defeat. Why? The biggest problem was that the northern subjugation army had lost momentum at every important point. Like in Epirus. Occupying that city boosted our troops’ morale, but then that fire attack happened.

Said event had brought down the soldiers’ boosted morale and taken the wind out of their sails. The same thing had happened when they tried to attack Fort Tilt, where they were initially clamoring, eager to topple the fort in one fell swoop, but the firm defenses led to a stalemate that hurt their morale again. That was the state of mind in which they had to approach the decisive battle on the Runoc Plains.

We were so focused on having a large army that we forgot it was a disorderly mob. We should have kept in mind that they were a mismatched army.

Or perhaps they’d have been better off not overthinking things and sending their finest troops on a charge into the enemy. Still, this was all hindsight and something one could only say once the war ended and they’d settled their loss.

Besides, Mikhail truly didn’t believe Helena’s claims that she lost her touch. Helena Steiner stood above all as a warrior and a general leading an army. Physically speaking, she might have been growing old, but her mature intellect was as sharp and prudent as ever. Mihkail knew this all too well as someone who stood beside her on the battlefield.

One of the reasons we lost was that we couldn’t control the nobles’ actions. There’s no doubt about that.

Mikhail didn’t believe all the nobles who participated in the war were devoted to Queen Lupis, nor did she place her faith in the nobles’ loyalty. Despite that, he didn’t think they would be so forward with their selfishness. The nobles had made foolish, absurd demands during the occupation of Epirus and the siege on Fort Tilt, making them a strain when planning strategy.

That’s just one factor behind our loss. He didn’t doubt Helena’s abilities but couldn’t fully trust her loyalty or pinpoint her intentions. Couldn’t she have come up with a better way?

The idea that the northern subjugation could fail with Helena at the helm seemed absurd based on her past achievements and abilities. But Mikhail also felt ashamed to think this way because he wasn’t confident he could have performed better than she did. Expecting her to do better than he could would be cowardly of him. Though he knew that, logically speaking, his emotions couldn’t accept it. The doubt kept gnawing away at his heart.

Many of Rhoadseria’s nobles are arrogant and selfish, and very few know the horrors of war. They let themselves ride high on the fact we had two hundred thousand men and tried to satisfy their greed.

Mikhail and Queen Lupis had considered all these points when they drafted the army, so this outcome was obvious. However, even the nobles weren’t arrogant enough to lose sight of everything.

They’re greedy but are fairly obedient to those stronger than them.

And Helena Steiner was strong. Had she used her authority to give an order, she could have pressured the nobles into obedience.

Lady Helena would have handled them differently if she had been intent on keeping them under her thumb. Yet she chose to hold her tongue. She didn’t act, or perhaps, couldn’t act. Even with her lack of assertiveness, she fulfilled her duties.

Even so, she hadn’t put forth her best effort. But he couldn’t question Helena about it. Regardless, Mikhail harbored a hint of annoyance toward her. He couldn’t see her as an ally so long as he had thoughts and complaints about her.

If she had been more cooperative with Her Majesty’s regime to begin with, this wouldn’t have happened. He knew that asking for this now was wishing for the impossible, and Helena couldn’t be held responsible for that. In the end, the cause of all this was Her Majesty’s flaws.

Queen Lupis knew that her greatest flaws were her indecisiveness and lack of skills, faults her closest aides, Mikhail and Meltina, couldn’t deny. Because of these, she lacked confidence and thus couldn’t trust a vassal more capable than her.

From the royal house’s perspective, the nobles had monopolized national politics for years, and there were very few trustworthy vassals. Queen Lupis could only trust people like Meltina and Mikhail, who’d shared the good and the bad with her since she was young. After all, in the last civil war, Kael Iruna had switched to the nobles’ faction. People can appear loyal on the surface, but there’s no telling what they think underneath.

As such, one couldn’t say that Queen Lupis’s lack of faith in her vassals could be attributed solely to her qualities as a ruler. Her relationship with Ryoma Mikoshiba resulted in a fundamental break because Queen Lupis was simply too suspicious.

And that’s affecting her relationship with Helena as well.

Since Helena boasted such a celebrated history, Queen Lupis felt inferior. Mikhail could understand this, as he harbored a grudge toward Ryoma Mikoshiba based on such feelings. It was similar to how a child born to people with a high social position often felt inferior to their parents.

The fact Her Majesty was once renowned as a general princess only makes it worse.

As a princess, Queen Lupis had served as the captain of the Royal Guard, but her combat experience there didn’t amount to much. At best, she fought bandits that ransacked the area near the capital, or she went out hunting monsters a few times. Even so, she had participated in battle as a commander and followed operations her subordinates had set up ahead of time. While one could say she had combat experience, that didn’t mean she understood the harshness and cruelty of the battlefield.

Of course, royalty like her doesn’t need to fight. In this particular situation, she mustn’t be allowed to fight on the front lines.

It would have been one thing if she were still a princess, but a queen couldn’t wield a sword on the battlefield. This world did have the power of martial thaumaturgy, which enabled nobles and royalty to actively fight on the battlefield. But within the logic of this world, it was unusual for them to do so. People of such high social standing only fought if they were trained warriors with genuine talent and technique.

Nobles and royalty only got involved in battle when there were many heirs—so the death of one or two members wouldn’t threaten the continuation of their house—or when their survival was on the line.

In this regard, Queen Lupis had been the only heir to the Rhoadserian throne until Princess Radine’s existence became known. Other noble houses had drawn on the royal family’s blood in the kingdom’s long history. The first head of the Gelhart Dukedom married the founding king’s younger sister. Many other dukedoms and countships had married members of the royal family over the ages. So, there were other people besides Princess Radine who might succeed Lupis.

But being the direct descendant of the king has a different weight than just having a few drops of royal blood running through their veins.

None of this changed how Queen Lupis was an irreplaceable presence to Rhoadseria. The former king, Pharst II, made Lupis captain of the Royal Guard to help her gain prestige for when the royal family took back real power from the nobles. But he did make sure she was well guarded.

That only made Her Majesty aware that she was only nominally a commander. 

But Lupis would have been better off accepting her fate as nothing but a symbolic leader or being too ignorant to notice it. She was neither... 

For better and for worse. 

Either way, the discrepancy between Queen Lupis’s expectations and reality was vast. No matter how conflicted she might have felt, the commoners still saw her as a hero since she did guide the kingdom to victory in the civil war. To her, that praise was nothing short of a bed of nails.

And that sense of inferiority connects to her distrust of Helena.

Queen Lupis believed she was weak. If she was, it stood to reason someone as strong and skilled as Helena would not be loyal to her. There was no proof that Helena conspired to betray her or had questionable allegiances based on other people’s points of views. Mikhail couldn’t say aloud that he believed that Queen Lupis had a persecution complex. This was Queen Lupis’s choice to make, and it wasn’t Mikhail’s place to comment. Meltina was also cautious of Helena, inspired by her liege’s feelings, and Mikhail had his doubts about the celebrated general too.

Others might not have been hostile toward Queen Lupis, but they couldn’t be friendly either. Despite Mikhail harboring much respect for Helena, he couldn’t ignore his queen’s will. This issue wasn’t about right or wrong but a problem caused by people’s unpredictable emotions.

And those kinds of problems are the most deep-rooted.

There was no correct solution for such an issue. Helena participated in the northern subjugation as supreme commander, though that was a provisional title. She still led the army and was given authority over it, which might come across as just a semantic problem. That said, something felt off when one heard Helena was the “supreme commander.”

That was what made Lady Helena’s position so unstable.

The right to command the nobles participating in the army was exclusively in the hands of Queen Lupis. Helena and Mikhail could give out orders because Queen Lupis had permitted them to do so. But that meant they were simply her proxies, and the nobles knew that.

Everything would change if Her Majesty didn’t trust one of her proxies... But what exacerbated the problem was that Queen Lupis’s distrust of Helena was evident to the nobles. What makes it even worse is that Queen Lupis doesn’t want to discharge Helena from her role despite being so wary of her.

She couldn’t give Helena any real power because she didn’t fully trust her—that much made sense. But there was no other worthy commander who could take her place.

In the past, Meltina and I would have taken on the roles of general and commander without regard for whether we were truly capable of filling them.

That thought made Mikhail stifle a self-mocking smile. Having experienced many hardships forced Mikhail and Meltina to mature and understand their capabilities. Simply put, they learned their place.

Granting Helena a formal title like commander in chief of the Rhoadserian military or commander of all the knight orders would have cleared up her position. But Her Majesty did not elect to do that. Even Mikhail could see this was a clear reason. And Lady Helena also felt alienated from Queen Lupis. 

Helena took her job seriously, never cutting corners or disobeying orders, but one could only see this as her doing the bare minimum. One couldn’t actually fault her for it. Ideally, people pursue their careers passionately, but nobody can force that upon a person. Given how unassertive she was, Mikhail felt he was right to think like that.

This wasn’t to say he didn’t respect her. The human heart was rife with contradictions. One could feel affection for a person they hated and trust someone they suspected.

I cannot fault Her Majesty for her inconsistencies, can I? With that, Mikhail refilled Helena’s empty glass and said, “I’ve heard about what happened to Sir Chris from Meltina. It’s unfortunate. He challenged that man to a duel to buy Her Majesty time to escape, yes? Thanks to him, Her Majesty evacuated the battlefield unharmed, and you arranged for it all ahead of time. I sincerely thank you.”

Helena hung her head, nodding weakly, and responded, “We had little choice. In those circumstances, we had to prioritize Her Majesty’s survival.”

There was deep sadness and regret to her voice. As Frank Morgan’s grandchild, Chris wasn’t just a mere relative of a former aide. Ever since the civil war, he had been with Helena on every battlefield, including the expedition to Xarooda. While she was too old to be his mother, they regarded each other as comrades.

Few people matched Chris as a both warrior and soldier. The skills passed down through his family made him possibly the best spear-wielder in the kingdom. He was a first-grade soldier and had worked for Helena in intelligence and tactics. His youth meant he lacked experience, but he was still one of the most promising knights, worthy of carrying Rhoadseria’s future. Losing Chris was a terrible blow to Helena and was like losing her right hand.

“I hear Sir Chris’s fate is still unknown.”

Helena shook her head.

He continued, “Given the chaos on the battlefield during the retreat, it only makes sense. In that regard, no news is good news, but...”

No report of Chris’s death had arisen, and while Mikhail wasn’t wrong, this did nothing to confirm his survival. It was just a matter of perspective, as many families of the northern subjugation soldiers believed their loved ones were alive up until their deaths were confirmed. Assuming someone was dead before an official report came across as cruel.

But that was only true of rank-and-file soldiers. Helena had seen many harsh battlefields, and her instincts as a soldier compelled her to coldly regard reality for what it was. She knew all too well the pain of clinging to faint hope only to be betrayed by the cruelty of reality.

“It’s been days. We can’t be too optimistic. If Chris survived and got away, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t try to contact us,” said Helena.

“Which is to say?”

“He’s probably dead or captive. Or otherwise injured and incapable of moving, but there’s no way of confirming any of these right now.”

Mikhail nodded and thought, He’s far too valuable a man to abandon. But in our current state, there isn’t much we can do.

As cold as it appeared, the Kingdom of Rhoadseria was in too much of a state of unease to concern themselves with the fate of a lone knight. Most of the nobles who participated in the northern subjugation ended up dead or missing. It was a defeat of historical proportions and left major claw marks on the land.

The northern subjugation army maintained order when retreating to the capital, but most nobles shut themselves off at their estates once they arrived. On the surface, they claimed they needed time to process their defeat. Looking at how the doors to their homes were closed, one could deduce they felt strong aversion for Queen Lupis and her army. Many had already begun returning to their domains with no intention of fighting under her anymore.

Because of that, the soldiers stationed in Pireas had terrible morale. There were no riots or rampages, but this was only thanks to the actions of military leaders like Helena and Mikhail.

All that, despite the fact that man is gradually marching on us. Mikhail loathed what the nobles did, but he couldn’t blame only them in this situation.

“How is Her Majesty doing, by the way? Same as before?” Helena asked.

Mikhail frowned. Saying the truth here would be comparable to disparaging his liege. He also felt guilty about lying, so he remained silent. His attitude and expression, however, spoke to what he thought.

“I see... Well, I suppose one can’t blame her. She’s as affected by this as any of us, if not more,” Helena said with a strained smile.

Grief and resignation. A natural reaction to this situation. Mikhail sighed softly as he noticed the emotion in Helena’s eyes.

The situation they were in was very much the worst possible scenario. Queen Lupis hid in her room in the castle as soon as she returned and refused to leave. Thankfully, they were already planning to hole up inside Pireas. This was the strategy agreed upon by Queen Lupis, Mikhail, Meltina, and Helena. Albeit, they had little choice but to wait and brace for a siege.

Still, this was their best option. The problem was that Queen Lupis, the ruler of this country, shut herself off in her room after making that decision.

“What do we do now?” Helena asked.

Mikhail answered with a sigh. “There honestly isn’t much we can do. Our only option is to have Meltina stay by her side and watch over her. I’d rather not resort to forcibly dragging her out of her room.”

His words were full of doubt and inner conflict since he didn’t know what to do here. How he felt was akin to a parent in the modern world dealing with a shut-in child. There wasn’t much to do in that situation; one could drag the child out of the room or hope they got better over time.

Since there was no clear-cut solution, Mikhail was terribly concerned.

“Yes, I imagine, but... You do realize we don’t have much time?” asked Helena.

Mikhail nodded, angry at the one who drove his liege into this predicament. I know why she’s doing this. It’s because she’s afraid of him.

Meltina told Mikhail about the events of the battle on the Runoc Plains, including how Ryoma Mikoshiba charged at them, hell-bent on claiming Queen Lupis’s head. Thanks to Meltina’s quick thinking and Chris stalling him, Queen Lupis retreated unscathed.

Just because she was physically whole didn’t mean she got away unaffected. She was already in the exceptionally stressful environment of the battlefield when Ryoma came at her with discernible bloodlust. That experience left a deep scar on Queen Lupis’s psyche.

In simple terms, she was traumatized, as many new recruits in war tended to be.

Emotional wounds heal with time, but...

With their defeat fresh in Lupis’s memory, Mikhail and Meltina waited and watched for the time being, but they couldn’t leave her alone for much longer. The nobles already doubted her caliber as ruler following this defeat. If news were to come out that the queen was unfit to command the siege, it could cause issues. Even the nobles that followed Queen Lupis out of loyalty would become so uneasy they might consider betraying her.

After all, loyalty was granted in exchange for protection. If the queen couldn’t uphold her duties but expected her vassals to remain loyal, this might cost her life.

Even under these circumstances, Mikhail was somehow able to request soldiers from the surrounding domains and had gathered seventy thousand soldiers in the capital. He would have gathered another fifty thousand reinforcements if he had had two more weeks.

With that we’ll have over one hundred thousand... The nobles being back in their domains means we can’t expect to mobilize the soldiers that returned from the northern subjugation. It should be possible to muster another fifty thousand. And this time, we’ll be fighting a defensive battle. That should be enough to settle the score with that man.

Mikhail’s heart burned with anger and bloodlust toward Ryoma, but this wasn’t the grudge he once harbored.

“I know. But we can’t quit at this point. If we don’t withstand this, that man will destroy this country.”

Helena gazed at Mikhail as he spoke, his words expressing his iron will. He would do anything to protect his beloved country and respected liege. Despite them being backed against the wall, Mikhail’s fighting spirit remained firm as he still sought a way to defeat Ryoma Mikoshiba. Like an evildoer seeking salvation from God.

Looking at Mikhail, Helena sighed softly and thought, This man’s ready to fight to the death.

Realizing the northern subjugation he led failed, and his kingdom was on the verge of ruin, tormented Mikhail. As he was burdened with guilt and resolve, he would get the capital caught up in his battle with the man he hated.

Like a soldier laying down his life for his country...

Helena’s expression was full of sorrow, perhaps out of pity for Mikhail. She sipped on her glass again, shifting her eyes to the empty bottle standing on the table beside them.

†

Away from the walls of Pireas was another man tormented by Ryoma Mikoshiba’s activities.

“Seriously, this is so problematic... What am I supposed to do?” whispered Genzou Tachibana as he hid in the shadows of the trees, looking at the encampment where the Mikoshiba barony banner of a two-headed silver and golden snake coiled around a sword flapped. His hand reached his left pocket, where he had hidden the letter he’d been entrusted with. I didn’t think delivering a letter could be so tricky.

It had been a week since Tachibana left the Church of Meneos encampment. He was a secret messenger, so taking the time and caution to remain hidden made sense. But seven days was a long time.