Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 8 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Restless Heart 

Hiding in the mountainous terrain along the border, Joshua looked down on the column advancing below the cliff. It followed a trail nestled between two mountains, and looking at it front above, the column of men walking below him looked like a regiment of ants. They were, indeed, not entirely unlike ants — the only difference was their size, perhaps. 

Looking down at the transport unit carrying the O’ltormean banner, Joshua brought the cigarette pinched between his fingers to his lips. This unit carried supplies Princess Shardina gathered from across the O’ltormean empire. It was hard to count just how many supplies and men she intended to carry in. O’ltormea was one of the three greatest countries on the western continent, and it was as if this was some kind of attempt to show off their massive national power. 

It’s just like the reports said... Guess that woman’s really running out of patience, eh? 

Bringing in this many people and supplies for just one battlefield would be difficult for any country, even if it was as vast and powerful as O’ltormea. 

Sure is a hard worker, that princess... 

With a crooked smile on his lips, Joshua conjured the image of O’ltormea’s first princess, his opponent over the last year, in his mind’s eye. Her face, however, was blotted out. Joshua had heard from the rumors that she was apparently a beautiful woman, but this world had nothing in the way of television or photographs. He had no way of knowing what the princess of another country looked like. 

For that matter, since he’d obstinately refused to attend any balls sponsored by the royal family since he couldn’t stand formal affairs, Joshua wasn’t familiar with what his own country’s princess looked like. 

This lazy man was now being put on a pedestal as a patriotic hero for one simple, awfully ironic reason. Life had a nasty tendency of not going the way one intends it to. 

The only things I need are the finest booze, the finest food, the finest cigarettes, and the finest girls. Just gimme a way to make more money on top of that and I won’t ask anyone for anything ever again. 

With that modest wish in his heart, Joshua cracked a self-deprecating smile. Most people would be satisfied for the rest of their lives with that much, but Joshua Belares was still, despite appearances, a member of the aristocracy. Compared to the greed of most other nobles, his wish was almost modest in comparison. And indeed, until the day O’ltormea’s army marched upon the fields of Notis, Joshua’s life was one of idly drowning in the delights of Peripheria’s pleasure district. 

Being the third son, his chances of inheriting the position of family head were slim. This free life in the embrace of the pleasure district was Joshua’s way of living in this world as he wished to without causing trouble for his family. Even in the militaristic society of Xarooda, House Belares produced exceedingly superior warriors. And of course, everyone expected such martial brilliance from the successor to Arios Belares, the man known as the Guardian Deity of Xarooda. 

But unfortunately, Arios’s blood and talent ran most thickly through the veins of his third son, Joshua. He had the talent to read his opponent’s intentions and the tactical mind to use it against them. Had Joshua not played the part of an uncouth, lustful lout, people would have called for him to inherit the family headship. And that would lead to secret feuds with the factions supporting his two older brothers, regardless of whether Joshua himself had wished for it or not. 

They’re trying to use their superior national power to crush us in one go... That’s what they picked in the end. Well, that is a reliable strategy. 

His expression seemed somehow indifferent and lacking in vigor. His chin was covered in stubble, as he’d neglected to shave for several days. His hair was unkempt, and the stench of alcohol and cigarettes wafted up from his body. For once, the scent of a prostitute’s cheap perfume wasn’t on his person, but if he didn’t wear a vest of leather armor that was reinforced with iron fittings here and there, one would assume he was some disgusting pauper from the capital’s refugee sector. Indeed, the same uncouth third son everyone loathed. 

But contrary to his appearance, his mind was calculating things at high speeds. 

They probably caught wind of Helnesgoula’s movements and want to strike fast before Helnesgoula can get in their way. Someone finally lit a fire under the princess’s pampered butt... Still, we’re just as backed against the wall here... 

Joshua used thaumaturgy, producing a spark at his fingertip to light the cigarette in his mouth. Breathing in a long, silent puff, he savored the cigarette’s aroma. Joshua’s mind already realized Xarooda was running out of time, and that O’ltormea’s position wasn’t all that different either. 

Over the past year, Joshua had employed this mountainous terrain and unconventional tactics to hold back the O’ltormean invasion, but he wasn’t any closer to finding a solution to the fundamental problem. He was like a doctor, continually providing life-extending treatment to a terminal patient. All he could really do was cling to the faint hope that some as-of-yet unknown miracle drug might appear and heal his patient. And Joshua wasn’t optimistic enough to think his ‘treatment’ would remain effective for much longer. 

And now, as he looked down at the row of people walking along the trail beneath the cliff, it seemed like the Grim Reaper was now riding forth on his pale horse to claim the life of that patient. If he couldn’t shake off their malicious intent, Xarooda wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. 

Well, so be it. Whatever happens, I decided to put my life and the fate of this country in the hands of that man and his plot... I only need to play my role here. 

The face of the man he had only met and first spoke to several days ago surfaced in Joshua’s mind. People often whispered behind Joshua’s back, calling him a whelp, but this man was even younger than he was. A commoner of unknown origins who rose to noble status. 

With that in mind, perhaps Joshua was mad to have gambled everything on that man’s plan so recklessly. Those working alongside Joshua had raised their voices in displeasure at that decision more than once. But Joshua was confident that Ryoma Mikoshiba’s plan would allow him to protect Xarooda. 

Joshua thought back to their meeting a few days ago. 

That man can probably read other people’s hearts... Same as me. 

Joshua could easily sniff out the fact that Ryoma was capable of the same thing he was. Joshua called it reading other people’s hearts, but what he was reading didn’t come across as numbers or letters. Joshua only examined how many times a person breathed every minute, and the stress and sound of their breaths. 

Between those and a person’s expression, Joshua could accurately assume someone else’s pulse. It was by no means some kind of special ability. Most people could guess at another person’s emotions without any words exchanged, though the degree of accuracy varied by the individual. Theoretically speaking, the variance mostly lay in whether one could consciously make use of this skill. 

But that minute variation made all the difference. By using this ability, Ryoma Mikoshiba was primed to decide the fate of a country. His plan wasn’t a particularly novel one on its own. Just about anyone could probably come up with this idea if they put some thought into it. After all, put simply, the Kingdom of Xarooda lacked the power to solve its own problems, so all they had to do was bow their heads to Helnesgoula and ask them for help. 

But while thinking of that idea was easy enough, actually implementing it was another matter altogether. Normally, this would simply be an empty theory. But that man showed them a way of putting that theory into practice. 

He’s an interesting man... Very interesting... 

With the image of Ryoma’s smile on his mind, Joshua’s own lips curled up to a smirk. Joshua was well aware that he loved taking gambles to an unhealthy degree. He’d been through countless dangerous scrapes in Peripheria’s pleasure district, risky affairs where one’s life was on the line, where blood was spilt and heat jolted through one’s body. Joshua loved nothing more than those gambles. Thinking back on those moments, Joshua felt a sweet shiver rush down his spine. 

“Alrighty... Should be about now.” 

What Joshua was about to do now was a greater gamble than any he had ever taken. A gamble with the continued existence of the three countries sitting at the western continent’s east hanging in the balance. 

He threw the cigarette at his feet and stomped it out under his boot. And at that moment, Joshua’s lethargic expression was filled with the ferocity of a beast. 

“I swear, ya dump all the work on me just so you can kick back and watch from afar. Talk about livin’ the good life...” A voice spoke to Joshua from behind, its tone voice equal parts teasing and exasperation. 

Behind him was a woman with her lips curled up in a lopsided smirk. 

“Ya ready?” he asked her. 

The crimson-haired woman behind him was a knight who was originally a mercenary. When Ryoma came to the frontlines a few days ago, he left this woman in Joshua’s care. Seeing her red hair blow in the wind, he realized that her moniker, ‘The Crimson Lioness,’ wasn’t for naught. And over the last few days, Joshua came to see that her skill lived up to her reputation, as well. 

“Yeah, ready whenever.” Lione nodded confidently. 

They had very limited time to prepare, but apparently she’d successfully made her adjustments. Joshua’s men were skilled, but that made it hard for someone else to handle them. 

“Right... Good work.” 

“Yeah. They’re a bunch of troublesome imps, yer boys,” Lione said with a smile. 

Joshua heaved a small sigh. He knew this wasn’t as simple as Lione put it. Their unique upbringing made them quite different from the normal soldiers under his command or the commoner conscripts sent to Joshua by the surrounding nobles. Depending on their ability, the people they lead could become either fearsome soldiers that were unflinching in the face of death, or weaklings that would flee the battlefield altogether. 

“My people are all skilled, but they’re fellows with a personality. They won’t listen to a word you say unless they admit you’re stronger.” 

And indeed, they stubbornly ignored the instructions of the knights from Peripheria. They were a special army corps put together by the deceased General Belares. They were something of a privateer unit, focused on disturbing the peace and reducing the national power of enemy countries. 

With his father’s death, they completely became Joshua’s personal troops. They were originally criminals, bandits and outlaws that caused trouble within Xarooda’s borders. General Belares was both a skilled knight and a skilled strategist, and adhered staunchly to a knight’s fighting style. But he did realize that eventually, they would buckle under O’ltormea’s superior national power. 

The size of their country, their economy, their manpower — they exceeded Xarooda in every imaginable factor. As militaristic as the Kingdom of Xarooda may have been and as skilled as their knights were, numbers were what decided wars. 

To top it all off, Xarooda itself wasn’t a monolithic country. Its territory was demarcated by mountains and forests. While there were kings and governors across Xarooda’s history, there was never a despot. O’ltormea was unified under a single emperor’s will, while Xarooda’s king couldn’t make any critical decisions without consulting with the nobility. Even a child could tell which side held the advantage. 

And so, General Belares took measures to cover the gap between O’ltormea’s national power and Xarooda’s. And some of those measures meant straying away from the path of chivalry. One such method was employing this privateer unit to disturb the peace within O’ltormea. 

To do it, General Belares pardoned the bandit leaders’ death sentences, and sent them to stir up trouble within O’ltormea’s territory in exchange. 

These were men that led lives that were even rougher than a mercenary’s or an adventurer’s. The fact that they obeyed Lione without much complaint was proof of her abilities. But at hearing Joshua’s words, Lione simply narrowed her golden eyes and laughed. 

“They ain’t that bad. They’re a bit rambunctious, that much I’ll grant ya, but it’s nothing a little kick in the ass can’t fix. Cute is what they are.” 

And Lione wasn’t lying. Breaking in Joshua’s subordinates wasn’t a difficult task for her. She didn’t lead the Crimson Lion group as a woman with just appearances and whimsical behavior. 

Yeah, I can see what he meant... This woman’s useful. And she trusts him. 

Ryoma wasn’t present for what was about to come. He was heading to Helnesgoula, to meet with the Vixen of the North in an encounter that might decide the fate of the three countries of the east. He entrusted the task of stalling O’ltormea’s invasion of Xarooda for as long as they could to Joshua’s and Lione’s hands. 

Most people would think they’re being treated as a disposable pawn and panic. 

But Joshua didn’t see so much as a hint of anxiety on Lione’s expression. There was no shaky loyalty or sense of duty between them. This was proof that there was true trust between the two of them. 

“By the way... Is that his idea of a parting gift?” Joshua asked, looking at the wooden crates being carried over one after another behind them. 

“Oh, that. The twins bought those at Peripheria,” Lione said, signaling with her hand for one of the soldiers working behind them to approach. 

“Oh, I see... Ceramic vases full of fish oil, with fabrics stuffed in to serve as corks...” 

The ceramic vases were overall poorly made. There wasn’t any overglaze applied to them, and their shapes and sizes weren’t uniform. They were quite crude — likely the result of an apprentice practicing in the workshop. These were low-quality vases, and Joshua doubted anyone in his house — no, not even the servants working his family’s estate — would use such low-quality pottery. 

But for this particular usage, the quality of the pottery they used mattered little. The size wasn’t a major concern, and so long as the oil inside them didn’t leak out their shape didn’t matter either. 

I’d bet the ceramic workshops in Peripheria were happy to have someone buy all this useless stock off of them... 

Joshua picked up one vase that was small enough to fit in his hand. Confirming its weight a few times, Joshua nodded at Lione. 

“Just gotta light the cloth and dump it... It’s a good idea.” 

“Yeah. It’s easy to carry, and the moment you throw it to the ground, the oil inside splashes around,” Lione said, puffing out her chest. “It’s hard to throw it as far as a fire arrow, but it’s perfect for times like this, when we’re attacking from above.” 

Truth be told, the idea of stuffing oil in these bottles and throwing them wasn’t a particularly good method of attack. Their range was far shorter than a fire arrow’s, and the containers were consumables that couldn’t be saved for future use. They could get enough of them this time, but they couldn’t necessarily get a steady supply of them in the future if need be. The amount of oil wasted on crafting these was considerable, too. 

But on the other hand, this method did offer a burning speed that far exceeded that of a fire arrow. This was a far more efficient method of burning down the enemy unit in this particular situation. It was a method used in siege battles — pouring boiling oil down the walls to kill the enemy, but this time it was developed to be even more efficient. 

“That’s a pretty interesting idea, that... Did that guy come up with it?” Joshua asked. 

“Yeah, ’twas made with the boy’s instructions. Pretty convenient,” Lione replied with a large smile. 

It was an innocent smile, as if Joshua had just complimented someone from her family. She likely saw Ryoma as a troublesome younger brother. 

“I see... So his accomplishments are the real thing.” Joshua couldn’t help but crack a wry smile at having her show off this much trust in Ryoma. 

He then turned his eyes to the row of people moving beneath them. They were halfway through the passage. They were out of time for idle chatter. 

“So we’re ready, yeah? Begin.” Joshua nodded at Lione, judging the time was right. 

“Alrighty. Roger that.” Lione obeyed, holding her hand hand up for those behind them to see. 

“All right, you hear?!” one man on horseback called out. “There’s no telling where the enemy might strike from next. Tell our scouts to keep a careful eye on our surroundings.” 

A runner sprinted ahead to relay the message at once. 

“Aren’t we being too cautious here?” the vice commander asked. 

“No... I think we’re as careful as we ought to be.” The other man shook his head. 

While some part of him did think he was being overly cautious, he also knew many other officers had been killed by Joshua Belares’s surprise attacks. He had no intention of falling to the same trap as his predecessors. And even more importantly, this transport mission was one duty they couldn’t afford to fail. 

“Her Highness was very clear with her orders. Or are you trying to make sure I fail this mission?” 

This officer was the sixth son, and an illegitimate child at that, to a viscount family. He’d been given a noble’s strict education, but wasn’t in any position to inherit the headship of his house. And so, he chose to become a knight. 

Thankfully, his pedigree seemed to have afforded him some talent. But upon entering the military, he wasn’t ordered to take up a position on the front lines. This wasn’t the result of unkind treatment. In a manner of speaking, it was even a very good position to receive. This man was more adept at handling numbers and negotiations than at commanding people, and his talents were a boon for O’ltormea in their own way. 

He went on to become a leading figure in O’ltormea’s supply department. Handling supplies meant facing off against the sly merchants in a true battle of words. The amount of supplies an army consumes is massive, after all, and all the more so during wartime. Depending on the contract being signed, sums of money large enough to construct a fortress or two could change hands. It was, for all intents and purposes, a battle without weapons. 

And this man gained victory after victory in this theater. As a result of his successes, he’d climbed up the ranks, becoming the head of Fort Notis’s supply division. Still, given his training as a knight, it wasn’t unnatural for him to wish to gather merit on a true battlefield. And so, this mission was a special one for this man. 

“Surely you jest...” His lieutenant shook his head hurriedly at his superior’s provocative words. 

The man was indeed joking, of course. But giving a wrong answer to that joke could bring down retribution on this lieutenant. A difference in classes is fundamentally absolute in this world, after all. He’d be lucky to get away with a demotion. At worst, his family’s heads might fly in the most literal sense. 

Of course, his superior wouldn’t do anything that unreasonable for no reason. But that is only to say that he wouldn’t — not that he couldn’t. 

“Then be quiet and do as you’re told... The scale and importance of this mission go beyond anything we’ve done before... You understand this, don’t you?” 

At Shardina’s orders, a large number of soldiers and a mountain of supplies were gathered from around O’ltormea and sent to Fort Notis. But it didn’t matter how many supplies one stored in their depot if they couldn’t be carried to the frontlines. 

The lieutenant nodded wordlessly at the man’s question. Their mission could very well decide the battle to come. But that sense of duty and resolve would crumble all too quickly and all too easily... 

“We’re starting! Are you ready?!” 

Over two hundred soldiers nodded at Lione’s exclamation and began chanting as one. 

“““Our Mother Earth, extend thy sturdy arms to guard thy children from misfortune! Stone Wall!””” 

Large walls of what could only be described as crags rose up from the ground. But that was only a mere wall. There were plenty of other ways one could use verbal thaumaturgy to kill a man, and so this spell’s usefulness on the battlefield was at best reserved to offering cover from arrows. 

Or at least, so everyone believed until that day... 

“Push them off!” Lione issued another order. 

“Ooooh! Push it! Heave, ho!” 

The soldiers abided by her orders and threw their weight against the walls. 

“Put more strength into it!” 

“What, was all the food you mooches sucked up for nothing?! C’mon, you can push harder than that!” 

Walls weighing several tons were gradually pushed forward. With this weight, even they, with their muscle strength reinforced by martial thaumaturgy, couldn’t easily push it. Their faces turned red as they worked in squads of several people. Their muscles bulged and the blood pumped intensely through their veins. And eventually, their efforts were given a fair assessment. 

“Keep going and drop it down the cliff!” 

“““Oooooooh!””” 

With one final push, the soldiers used the last of their power to push the stone walls over the cliff’s edge, where they plummeted a hundred meters down, flattening the O’ltormean forces below... 

“What was that noise?!” The man looked around, hearing a rumbling sound ring out from above him. 

“Th-Those are rocks, sir! There are rocks falling down on us from the cliffs!” 

At that moment, the commander felt all the blood drain from his face at once. He turned his gaze in the direction his lieutenant pointed at, seeing massive crag slabs tumbled down the cliff one after the other. 

Since the slabs weren’t circular, they crashed against each other and fell at a disorderly pace, changing their trajectory as they plummeted down. That made it harder to predict where they’d crash, and therefore harder to avoid them. To top it all off, they kicked up a large amount of sediment on their way down. 

“Kuh, a Xaroodian ambush...! What are our scouts doing?! I’ll have them beheaded once they get back!” the commander cussed at the incompetence of his scouts. 

That said, the man would never act out those intentions. The scouts he sent were already reduced to lifeless corpses at Joshua’s hands. 

“We can handle that later, sir! We have to run!” the lieutenant said, guarding the commander’s body from the sediment kicked up by the rolling crags. 

His attempt was for naught, though. They had no way of escaping this. 

What do we do? What can we do to get out of this alive? 

The leading pack was already completely out of sight behind the sediment and rocks. It was hard to tell if they were all right, but regardless, if this was an attack by Xarooda, their fate was likely already sealed. 

In which case, the man had to prioritize defending another, relatively safe supply unit. 

“Fall back! All forces, fall back!” The commander shouted as hard as he could, as if trying to tear his throat out. 

As a decision made in the heat of the moment, it wasn’t a bad choice to make. But his orders wouldn’t be fulfilled. 

“We can’t, sir. We can’t turn back on a road this narrow!” the lieutenant said, denying the possibility. 

Their ranks filled the narrow trail entirely, and while they could move forward without any problems, turning around would be impossible... But the worst was yet to come. Countless bottles were thrown down the cliff one after another. Small ceramic containers, their mouths stuffed with burning cloths. 

“F-Fire! Fiiiiiiire!” A dying cry left one soldier’s mouth. 

The bottles crashed against the ground and shattered, splashing their surroundings with liquid. 

“That smell... This is fish oil!” The lieutenant went pale upon recognizing the distinct stench. 

Fish oil was more flammable than one might imagine. People in the Edo Period often used cheap fish oil to light paper lanterns. Lione placed precisely that kind of oil in the ceramic jars and bottles to create impromptu Molotov cocktails. 

Several months ago, Ryoma ordered Sakuya to burn down the pirate stronghold on the Wortenia Peninsula, and she, along with her ninjas, used this method to do so. The fact that the bottles had to be thrown by hand meant that while they were inferior to fire arrows in terms of range, they were easier to carry and made their fire spread out that much further. They were also easier to gather compared to bows and arrows, and required no training to properly use. 

And in situations like this one where they were dropped from atop a cliff, their lack of range wasn’t an issue whatsoever. The higher they’re dropped from, the stronger the shockwave they produced and the more the oil within them would scatter. 

Joshua nodded in satisfaction as he watched the pandemonium beginning to unfold beneath the cliff. 

“All right, time to finish them off,” he said. 

“Ya got it. We’re at a disadvantage as it is, so we’ll need to cut down their numbers as much as possible for when the plan falls apart,” Lione replied with a ferocious grin and turned to the figure behind her. “Ya were listenin’, yeah? Sorry, but we’ll need you to move out, too.” 

The figure, which was covered in a robe and hood, nodded lightly. 

“Yes, that man told me to help you. Allow me to display my power as the daughter of the Mad Demon Nelcius.” 

The figure was that of a woman, her fair voice as clear as the ringing of a bell. A fascinating, mesmerizing voice that melted the hearts of men. Joshua, who seemingly didn’t know who this woman was, regarded her with surprise. Ryoma told him she was a practiced warrior, but the alluring quality of her voice came across as a surprise. 

“Right... Looking forward to it then, Dilphina.” Lione simply nodded curtly at her words. 

“Leave the matter to me... And watch. I shall bring you the head of their commander before long.” With that said, Dilphina sprinted toward the cliff. 

And the next moment, she elegantly soared through the air, entrusting her body to gravity, which pulled her down a distance of 100 meters. 

“Is that... the second secret measure he left behind?” Joshua asked Lione, as he watched Dilphina’s form grow smaller and more distant as it approached the ground. 

He’d accepted Ryoma’s demand to not ask questions, so Joshua didn’t intend to inquire too deeply about that woman, but curiosity got the better of him. 

“Yeah, I suppose ya could say that.” Lione nodded. 

Lione herself didn’t quite know what Dilphina was capable of. All she knew was that among the demi-humans living in Wortenia, she was apparently an exceptionally experienced warrior. 

“That’s a pretty unreliable answer,” Joshua said with displeasure in his voice. 

“Sorry, but it’s the only answer I’ve got for ya,” Lione shrugged. “All I can really say for now is let’s just see how this plays out... But the boy did say our chances of winning here are good.” 

Lione had seen plenty of warriors and knights who were praised as one-man armies die all too easily on the field of battle. One’s individual strength was important, yes, but Lione knew this wasn’t enough to survive on the battlefield. 

Even so, Lione didn’t plan for a situation where Dilphina might die. Martial thaumaturgy used the body to produce superhuman strength. Verbal thaumaturgy manipulated the power of gods or spirits by offering up one’s own prana. Endowed thaumaturgy granted assorted powers and effects to tools by placing a curse mark onto them. Those were the three types of thaumaturgy passed down in this world. 

But the elves had long been said to possess unrivaled techniques in the field of endowed thaumaturgy. Ritual objects of elven production found their way to the market every now and then, but their price was always ten times that of similar tools produced by human hands. Depending on the object, the price could be even a hundred times the price of a human product. 

But that said, few people had seen these ritual objects put to use on the battlefield. 

Well, I guess this is a good chance to see if the rumors about their endowed thaumaturgy are real... 

They were confirming the legitimacy of the techniques used by the elves of the Wortenia Peninsula. Their skills had the potential to change Ryoma’s future plans. And so Lione kept her gaze fixed on Dilphina’s shrinking form. Carefully, so as to not miss a single detail... 

As gravity tugged her body ever closer to the ground, Dilphina took a deep breath and then exhaled. It was very similar to the kind of deep breathing one often saw in yoga meditation. As she took a few breaths, she felt her senses swiftly become more acute. 

The serpent of energy coiled in her perineum — her prana — reared its head, rapidly awakening and coursing through Dilphina’s body. It quickly reached her fourth chakra, the Anahata chakra, forcing it into operation. 

“Awaken.” One short word escaped Dilphina’s lips. 

It was far too short to be an incantation for a spell, and yet its effects were immediate and extreme. The black leather armor Dilphina wore under her robe abided by that single word, as did a short spear she held in her right hand. What looked like a hieroglyph lit up on the head’s surface and the armor, forming a luminescent pattern. 

At that moment, Dilphina’s body was freed from gravity’s pull. Dilphina landed gently on the ground. 

“The creed activated perfectly, I see,” Dilphina said, looking around. 

“Who the hell are you?!” 

“An enemy?!” 

A few dozen O’ltormean soldiers who worked on putting out the flames noticed her descent from above and turned their spears toward her. Of course, they were only soldiers of a supply unit working in the rear. While O’ltormea’s soldiers were generally well-trained, these soldiers weren’t nearly as skilled or organized as the elites fighting on the frontlines. 

It’s a pity that man isn’t here to see this with his own eyes... But it’s a good chance to make a show of our power. 

They would either go to war, or cooperate with one another. Since Ryoma Mikoshiba refused to take a stance of non-interference, there were only two ways their interactions with him could go. But if they went to war, even if Dilphina’s side were to defeat Ryoma, their fates would be sealed. Mankind would bring their great numbers to bear on the elves and stomp them out. 

As such, the elves had no choice but to choose cooperation with Ryoma, however begrudgingly. And if they were to do it, they wanted that relationship to benefit their race as much as possible. 

“Now then... Let us begin.” 

Dilphina casually swung her short spear. The spear let out a savage howl, kicking up a violent gale of wind that beat against the O’ltormean soldiers’ faces. At that moment, the soldiers reflexively saw the figure before them as violence incarnate. 

“M-Monster...” One of the soldiers muttered with a mix of terror and sorrow. 

Hearing that word, Dilphina smiled gently under her hood. 

“Yes, that’s right... I am a monster. A demon that shall feast upon your lives.” 

The next moment, countless flowers bloomed across the battlefield — as red petals of blood scattered across the earth... 

On that day, Joshua Belares led a raid on the O’ltormean military that resulted in great losses for the empire. The speed of O’ltormea’s invasion deteriorated even further as a result. This bought Ryoma a good deal of precious time. 

A certain group was heading northwest along a highway cutting through a forested area near Xarooda’s northern border. This wasn’t a very active trade route, though. Had it not been for this region’s main products, no merchant would ever cross this road. Especially now that Helnesgoula’s movements were unclear, the only ones to pass through here were the local peasants. 

Thanks to that, they could let their horses gallop as fast as they wanted and weren’t met with any kind of incident. After all, the sound of the hooves traveled far, and anyone could notice the approaching cloud of dust and move to the sides of the road. 

The group was clad in shabby, dirty clothes. They had likely strayed out of the highway, which was protected by a monster-repelling barrier, in order to cut down the duration of their journey. The cloaks they wore to protect themselves from the cold were torn, as if by the claws of monsters. 

A stench rose from their bodies, a testament to the fact they hadn’t bathed in days. They likely slept outdoors instead of staying at an inn. Had they not been on horseback and armed, they might have looked like commoners fleeing from the war. The 20 people that made up this group were all clearly fatigued by the journey. 

“Captain, it’s in sight!” one young knight who was riding ahead turned around and called at the top of his lungs. 

It was land occupied by Helnesgoula — a country which they didn’t know if they could call friend or foe yet. As such, the vanguard of the caravan also doubled as scouts. The knight’s voice was thick with relief at being freed from this duty at long last. 

At the words of that knight from the Monarch’s Guard, who was known for being especially hawk-eyed, everyone’s eyes turned to the small hill ahead of them. 

“The citadel city of the north, Memphis...” Orson Greed, who rode alongside Ryoma, pointed ahead. 

Ryoma looked in that direction, where he saw a small back dot which grew gradually larger and clearer as his horse moved along the road. Eventually, a city covered by multiple layers of walls came into view. Atop the ramparts flapped the flag of the Kingdom of Helnesgoula. 

“Aah, finally...” Ryoma said, fixing his eyes on the walls while retaining his horse’s current pace. “It’s taken us four days, but we’re finally there...” 

The Malfist sisters, who rode parallel to Ryoma, heard him whisper. His words were mixed with annoyance and anxiety. 

“I would think this is faster than it would usually take us...” Laura said. “We had to ride day and night while keeping our horses strengthened using thaumaturgy to do it. The fact that we changed horses in the towns along the way also made things go that much faster. We didn’t have to waste time on letting our horses rest.” 

Sara nodded wordlessly in agreement. Endowed thaumaturgy was applied to the horses’ saddles and hooves, which allowed the rider to share their prana with the horse, granting it increased speed as well as recovering their stamina little by little. This allowed them to maintain a higher speed than usual horseback riding would allow for a longer period of time. 

They rode their horses as fast as possible, and upon reaching a town, Greed would use his position as captain of the Monarch’s Guard to arrange for the town’s garrison to exchange their horses. This shortened their journey even more, and was likely the fastest method of transportation in this world. 

This was the result of their best efforts. This method required using thaumaturgy while on horseback and being able to exchange horses. These were very particular conditions, and in that regard, they were fortunate to be able to have matters align the way they did. 

But Ryoma was still displeased. 

“Guess that’s how it’ll have to be...” Ryoma whispered in annoyance and kept his gaze fixed forward. 

“Are you dissatisfied, Master Ryoma?” Sara asked with concern. 

Ryoma silently shook his head and raised his horse’s speed. 

Well yeah, I am... Telling them that wouldn’t help, though... 

Ryoma was used to airplanes and automobiles, and so riding on horseback was lacking in both comfort and speed by comparison. He couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied by it, especially in situations like this one, where every minute and every second counted. 

But Ryoma understood that expecting anything resembling a car in this world was asking for the impossible. There was the extremely unlikely scenario of a summoner calling forth someone who was in a car and brought it along with him. But practically speaking, using a car here would be utter nonsense. 

After all, there weren’t any mechanics to perform maintenance work on it, and if it suffered any type of malfunction — especially a flat tire — there would be no spare parts to fix it. And then there was the even more fundamental problem that Ryoma couldn’t see himself obtaining a constant supply of gasoline. 

The idea completely fell apart the moment someone put any kind of thought into it. Those were problems one didn’t need to consider when living in Ryoma’s world, but in this world everything was different. 

What’s more, even if all those conditions were to be satisfied, the condition of the roads in this world didn’t allow for a vehicle to run properly to begin with. Perhaps near a city it would be more possible, but the highways were mostly made up of soil. If there were to be any rain, the ground could turn muddy, which could get the car stuck. Unless it was a military jeep, driving an automobile in this world would be difficult. 

This was a good example of how a technology being extremely optimized in a certain field makes it harder to effectively utilize a tool. 

That said, developing the sciences here would be hard... Not impossible, but it would take a great deal of manpower, time, and money to do it. 

Ryoma had studied science in the 10 years he’d spent from elementary to high school. He knew some chemical formulae, and he could probably produce chemical reactions using certain chemicals. But that was only within the boundaries of schoolwork, and he could only mix together materials that were prepared ahead of time. 

It wasn’t unlike cooking. When making a carbonara, any amateur could make something decent given the materials and a recipe. The Japanese were especially fond of that kind of pasta, as well as others. But while one might be familiar with pasta, not many people could make it from flour. Most people would be hard-pressed to use raw ingredients to make something halfway decent, at worst giving up halfway through. 

Science was similar to that, except it was even more complicated and dangerous. Failing to cook a dish would just end with a frown as one throws away the results. Failing in science could put one’s life at risk. 

In that case, using thaumaturgy which is far more developed in this world is a much more realistic choice, but... 

Thaumaturgy was convenient and had broad applications, but it wasn’t without its flaws. Endowed thaumaturgy in particular felt rather generic and limited in what it could do. To begin with, there were few thaumaturgists capable of branding objects with curse seals. It stood to reason that objects enchanted with endowed thaumaturgy sold for so much. 

On top of that, most of the few people who were capable of placing curse seals made their living by creating enslavement equipment meant to bind slaves. They had little interest in developing the field, and new ways of applying endowed thaumaturgy simply weren’t being discovered. 

Ryoma elected to stop thinking about it at that point. The technological aspects of this world were a topic worth deliberating over, but right now he needed to tackle the issue at hand. 

We did the best we could so far... But will this be enough? Will we make it in time? 

Would they make it in time or not? Everything depended on that. This was why Ryoma took every effort to cross this land as quickly as possible. No matter how much one empowered a horse, it was still a living being. It gradually grew fatigued, and there were limits to how fast it could go. This was why they changed horses along the way. 

To maximize their speed, Ryoma and his group minded the clothes they wore on the journey, so as to not further burden their steeds. Xaroodian knights often wore full plate armor, but this time they were clad in the kind of leather armor mercenaries typically used. Had it not been for the Xaroodian coat of arms, a sword held before a shield, woven into their cloaks, one would be hard-pressed to recognize them as knights. 

For armaments, each carried a single sword, sheathed at their waists. They had no spears or spare weapons. Besides that, they each had a canteen of water and a leather sack with beef jerky as their preserved rations attached to their saddles. In this world, this was the lightest one could travel. In fact, it bordered on recklessness. Even if they resupplied in the towns along the highway, unlike in Ryoma’s world, there was no telling what might happen in this world’s environment. Ryoma would never travel this light under ordinary conditions. 

But despite being well aware of the dangers involved, they still embarked on what bordered on being a gamble because they knew that these deciding moments were their last chance. Now, when Helnesgoula’s army was beginning to augment its numbers... 

O’ltormea’s army is too large. If we clash with them now, the fighting would only last a few days, and that’s even with our side having the locational advantage... 

The spies Joshua sent into the empire risked their lives to deliver the news of the upcoming large-scale offensive to him. Ryoma had to succeed in the negotiations to come, or their efforts will have been for naught. 

With Lione and Joshua Belares leading the battle at the mountain pass, we should definitely be able to crush the supply line. But... 

Ryoma could imagine the worst case scenario, and he clicked his tongue despite himself. He could envision an inferno of bloodshed and smoldering flames. O’ltormean soldiers washed over the battlefield like tidal waves with superior numbers, overwhelming the Kingdom of Xarooda and destroying everything in their wake. 

Talk about fighting with our backs against the wall... 

Ryoma was confident that his plan was the best, most ideal chance the Kingdom of Xarooda had at the moment. But it was still a literal gamble. It was very much like treading a tightrope, and only should everything fall into place perfectly would all his actions come together to form a meaningful whole. 

Ryoma hadn’t made such blatant, reckless gambles since he escaped O’ltormea after killing Gaius, except when he made the bridgehead on the river Thebes. And even as slim as his chances seemed back then, they were still more favorable than his chances now. 

But he knew he had no other choice, so he had to tread down this path while knowing how dangerous it was. 

I’m wavering here... But doing that after the dice have been cast isn’t like me. 

Two faces surfaced in Ryoma’s mind. The first was of his confidante, Lione. He had perfect trust in her, and that was why he left matters in her hands. He trusted her no less than he trusted Laura and Sara, who were always at his side. 

The other was someone he’d only known for a short amount of time, Joshua. But Ryoma recognized that Joshua carried a scent similar to his own. And given his achievements so far, there could be no doubting he was a commander few could rival on this western continent. That was why, despite giving him one of his aces, Ryoma could send him on what was very much a suicide mission without doubting he would return. 

Here’s to hoping that Helnesgoula’s queen is even half the cunning, capable person the rumors make her out to be... 

They had a chance of winning, of course. But that was only a possibility, and not absolute fact. Ryoma bit his lip hard as he glared at the Helnesgoulian banner flapping ahead of him...