“Enemy attack, enemy attack! The rear is being targeted!”
Crishet was the first to react to that voice.
The baggage train consisted of several dozen carriages.
From Crishet’s position in the middle, it was quite a distance to the rearmost carriage, and the screams could be heard from afar.
“Crishet-sama, please stay here. Rest assured—”
The soldier who had practically become Crishet’s attendant lost sight of her before he could finish his sentence.
Then, he spotted Crishet standing atop the cargo of the carriage one behind, her gaze fixed on the rear.
Crishet paid no mind to the man calling out to her, her thoughts already racing to deal with the situation.
The Baughan army’s baggage train.
If it sustained damage, it would, above all else, affect her own meals for the next day.
She calmly surveyed the long line of carriages stretching before and behind her.
A long, snake-like column—it was impossible to assume a rapid response formation.
This forest was even further behind the front lines. It was supposed to be a secured area.
Therefore, the number of escorting soldiers was the bare minimum.
Far too vulnerable for combat. Depending on the enemy’s numbers, they wouldn’t be able to hold out.
Her mind immediately began to race.
—The enemy has broken through the front lines and is conducting a lightning-fast invasion to threaten the rear communication lines.
If that were the case, information should have already circulated.
A messenger should have reached this column much faster. Unlikely.
—A covert breakthrough, and we are completely unaware.
The possibility is next to nil.
If it were true, we would suffer considerable losses, but even so, it’s hard to imagine them taking such action merely to temporarily disrupt the rear communication lines.
If they were to do it, it would be a clear-cut severing of the lines or an attack on the main camp from behind.
In either case, deploying such a force would be a significant risk for the enemy, and if it were the latter, targeting the rear of the logistics unit would be unnatural.
In that scenario, they would need to lie in ambush and wait for an opportunity, or inflict such devastating damage that not even a messenger could be dispatched.
—They were lying in ambush here from the start.
The possibility is next to nil. But what if it were a small number?
—They somehow organized a force here and set up an ambush.
They won over mercenaries or bandits with money or something equivalent.
If there were operatives involved, it’s more than plausible.
The most likely scenario is a small-scale rear disturbance.
I won’t know without checking.
Crishet leaped down and immediately dashed into the forest.
The path was too narrow to ride a spare carriage horse, and she disliked horses that made her butt sore.
She instantly decided it would be faster to cut through the forest.
Mana surged, constructing virtual muscles, and her body sliced through the wind.
Dashing through the forest like a loosed arrow, she twisted her body to avoid branches tearing her clothes, identified footholds and her route, and propelled herself forward by kicking off the ground and trees.
She arrived in no time.
Visual confirmation: 24 enemy figures. There were certainly more.
Mismatched leather armor. Filthy attire. No emblems or anything to indicate they were soldiers.
Judging by their appearance, they were likely bandits.
If so, they would be easier to deal with.
Drawing her curved sword and swinging it happened simultaneously.
With the curved sword in a reverse grip, she beheaded one, then moved forward before the blood could stain her clothes.
Switching to a standard grip, she killed two more who were nearby and danced out onto the road where the rearmost part of the column was.
For a moment, everyone was distracted by Crishet.
And before their hostility could turn towards her, she beheaded the one before her eyes.
Severing the cervical vertebrae, through only the soft flesh of the neck.
Not a single nick on the cleaver-like curved sword, its silver sullied by a lurid red.
Using the fountain of blood as a screen, Crishet vanished from the sight and awareness of those around her—and by the time someone spotted her again, a flower of blood had already bloomed.
Even the attackers, and the soldiers who had been cut down just moments before, felt a chill run down their spines.
Crishet, who detested filth—only her blade was coated in thick red.
Her silver hair danced smoothly against her untainted, deep green cloak, an out-of-place beauty that was unsettlingly bizarre.
“That’s her! Get the white one!”
The man who seemed to be the bandit leader screamed. By that point, Crishet had already beheaded nine men.
Three men were clustered around the leader.
Crishet drew a knife from her waist and threw it.
Even while running, the spinning knife expertly pierced the neck of the man in front.
The two men behind and the leader, though their eyes widened at the falling man, took their stances.
Unlike the small fry, they seemed to be skilled.
Although she didn’t sense any mana from them, that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.
Mana could reinforce strength and agility, but it couldn’t enhance physical durability.
Even Crishet would die if her neck were twisted, and a cut merely an inch deep could be fatal. If they all desperately grabbed onto her, it would be the same as death.
Her only weapon was her superhuman agility.
Therefore, for her safety, she needed to slip through the gaps in their awareness.
The man on the left had an axe. The man on the right, a short curved sword. The leader held a straight sword in his right hand and a small shield in his left.
Instantly judging the left, she slipped in, aiming for the right armpit of the axe-wielding man.
The man swung his axe down, just as she’d anticipated.
Most of the bandits wore leather armor, but it was light, covering only the torso and gauntlets.
Armor couldn’t be worn under the armpits—and Crishet knew very well that blood often gushed from there.
His right armpit, casually.
Slicing it open with her curved sword, she passed the man and moved behind him.
The leader, spotting this, reacted quickly, sweeping his straight sword towards her.
Crishet ducked to avoid it and slashed the back of his knee.
Without watching the leader collapse, she threw the knife she had drawn at the neck of the approaching man with the short curved sword, finishing him off—then stepped on the fallen leader’s back and placed her blade against his nape.
She surveyed her surroundings.
“Th-the boss is down!”
“Run! We’ll be caught!”
The bandits’ decision was swift.
Realizing they were at a disadvantage, the bandits turned tail and fled without a second glance.
Crishet watched them go, and once she confirmed that all hostility had vanished from the area, she took a breath.
As expected from running such a distance, Crishet’s breathing was slightly ragged.
The surrounding soldiers stared at Crishet in a daze.
She saw a few faces of those who had spoken to her earlier, but their expressions were ones of utter shock.
They gazed at the girl’s strangeness, lost for words.
Crishet wondered why they were all frozen, but deciding to first neutralize the leader’s ability to resist, she stepped on his right shoulder, grabbed his arm, and—
“Hi-gih!?”
—dislocated his right shoulder.
Then the left shoulder.
A scream like a tearing sack of hemp echoed through the forest again, and the soldiers snapped back to their senses.
“C-Crishet-sama… Wh-what are you…?”
“…? I was thinking of preparing for torture. There’s no guarantee there aren’t more enemies.”
She tilted her head, wondering why they would ask such a thing.
On a road where everything was stained with blood.
Amidst the carnage, Crishet, tilting her head, was beautiful in a way that transcended cuteness and became eerie.
Crishet stepped off the leader, smoothed down her skirt, and crouched down in front of him.
Then, she addressed the pale-faced man, whose tough features were now streaked with tears.
“Attacking a military baggage train is a bad thing to do. Did you know that?”
“A-ah, ga…”
“Well, it doesn’t matter if you knew or not. In cases like this, the Alberan Kingdom imposes death, its most severe punishment.”
She held up one finger, as if explaining something to a child.
“If you were a soldier of an enemy nation—in this case, the Erslen Holy Empire—you would be treated as a prisoner of war, receive appropriate processing, be sent to the rear, and then detained. Your interrogation would be non-violent, and your rights protected by the Holy Spirit Covenant, but…”
Her violet eyes scanned the man’s entire body.
At the very least, there were no emblems of any kind on him.
“You don’t seem to possess anything to prove your identity. Is that correct?”
“Hi…!”
“If you do possess such a thing, state so before I count to five. Otherwise, I will deem you as not possessing one and treat you as a mere bandit.”
Five, four, three, two, one, zero.
Crishet finished counting and announced with a smile.
“It seems you don’t. Normally, you would be restrained and then executed, but fortunately, military personnel are granted the right to summary execution, and if necessary, we also possess the right to inflict pain upon your body for the purpose of information gathering—to torture you.”
She wasn’t particularly intending to threaten him with her explanation, but it was nothing short of a clear threat.
The man stiffened, and Crishet stepped on his thick right arm.
“Crishet will now torture you by cutting off your fingers one by one, but this is a legitimate legal measure in accordance with the Alberan Kingdom’s penal code. I would appreciate your understanding.”
And without hesitation, she severed his little finger.
“Hi-giii, aaahhhhhhh!?”
“Besides those who fled earlier, do you have any other comrades?”
“M-my, my, fin, finger…is…! My, ghk!?”
Next was the ring finger.
The heavy blade, with just a light tap, severed the finger with utmost ease.
“It will be problematic if you don’t answer Crishet’s questions. At this rate, I’ll have to take off your shoes and start cutting off your toes as well.”
“P-ple, I, I won’t say…gh!”
“Hmm, is that so? Crishet will kill you either way, but Crishet thinks it’s better to die quickly than to die in pain. Please continue in that vein.”
A scream echoed.
The soldiers, who until moments ago had been in the thrill of battle, watched, trembling, as the girl before them severed fingers without hesitation.
With no one able to utter a word, all the fingers on the man’s right hand were severed.
What Crishet was doing was, from a military standpoint, a perfectly justifiable act, but individuals who could proactively carry out torture were exceedingly rare.
Even with the resentment of having their comrades killed, no one present could dispassionately sever a person’s fingers like her, without any hesitation or joy.
There was no one who found satisfaction in watching the enemy leader—who had nearly killed them and had killed their comrades—have his fingers severed; rather, they were consumed by the atmosphere, and feelings of even fear and pity welled up.
“That was all I wanted to ask. Well then, thank you for your cooperation.”
Crishet, with the expression of someone who had finished a task, said this and then stomped through the base of the man’s neck.
An eerie “gugyo” sound echoed, and the man’s body convulsed for a moment before ceasing to move, but before that happened, eight fingers lay scattered around.
Crishet retrieved her two knives from the corpse’s neck and approached one of the soldiers, the NCO of the supply train unit in this area.
“For now, I believe we can consider this raid to be over. It was likely a rear-guard disturbance using bandits. Crishet will be returning, but may I have a clean piece of cloth?”
“Y-yes…”
The NCO, his voice strained, told a nearby soldier to bring a cloth.
The soldier hurriedly brought a white cloth.
Crishet carefully wiped the blood and grease from her knives and scimitar, sheathing them under her cloak, all while observing the surrounding soldiers.
Even Crishet, astute as she was, thought the surrounding reactions were somewhat strange.
She had killed bandits. However, this wasn’t a town, but a forest—and a military supply train.
Everything Crishet had done was perfectly proper handling of bandits, a thoroughly justifiable job in accordance with military regulations and principles, and should, if anything, be welcomed.
But, even so, their reactions were still a little odd.
Then, Crishet had a thought—”Ah!”—and clapped her hands together with a “pon.”
Today, Crishet wasn’t a soldier, but merely a general’s daughter who had come to deliver a letter.
In short, she remembered she was off-duty.
Assuming they were perplexed because she had taken over their work, she smiled and said.
“Along with what we just discussed, please handle the messages to the front lines and the General. Crishet only came to deliver a letter and is technically off-duty, so I shouldn’t overstep too much.”
And so, voicing a concern that absolutely no one else was worried about, Crishet broke into a light trot, “tote tote,” and ran ahead.
Her retreating figure, completely unstained by even a single drop of blood, sent a chill down the spines of everyone present.
The cleanup took some time, and by nightfall, after passing through the forest, Crishet and the others arrived at the main camp.
Crishet bowed deeply in thanks to the supply train soldiers, whose faces looked somewhat strained, and then headed straight for the General’s tent.
The Chrishtand army itself had engaged in about three skirmishes with the enemy, but currently, they were in a standoff and didn’t seem overly busy.
As Crishet asked for directions and approached General Baughan’s tent, a familiar voice called out to her midway.
“Crishet!”
“Wah…!”
The girl who ran up hugged her tightly and nuzzled Crishet’s cheek.
Her golden hair shone as if wet in the moonlight, and her smooth, white cheeks felt pleasant even to Crishet.
Selene, who was about half a head taller, smiled with faint tears welling in the corners of her large eyes.
“Thank goodness! I heard there was an attack and I was so worried. Are you alright? You weren’t injured?”
“Ehehe, yes, as you can see. Selene, you look well too.”
Red riding trousers, slightly full at the thighs.
Above, she wore a thick, black cloth vest, and a red mantle adorned with gold embroidery.
The combination of a cloth armor worn under a cuirass and riding trousers was military attire, but she didn’t seem to be wearing any kind of metal armor.
This suggested, at least, that this encampment was safe.
“Yes, well. Are you going to Father’s place?”
“Yes, I thought I’d deliver the letter first.”
“Then, shall we go? Father and Gaaren-sama were both terribly worried.”
Selene happily took Crishet’s hand.
Crishet, for her part, felt relieved at Selene’s demeanor.
“How are things? The war situation, I mean.”
“A standoff… We’re in a situation where we can’t make a move. Losing Ulfenite was a huge blow.”
Ulfenite was a fortified city located in the center of the kingdom’s eastern region.
The entire city was surrounded by high walls and a moat filled with water from a river, and it had been touted as an impregnable city. However, as a result of being conquered in a lightning invasion, it had now become an impregnable enemy invasion base from our perspective.
Ulfenite was situated in a location from which the central part of the Alberan Kingdom could be targeted, and retaking it was currently the most critical objective.
The Elthrene side had firmly defended the rear communication lines leading to Ulfenite, deploying forces of forty thousand each against General Baughan in the north and Dagrene in the south.
Against them, we had twenty thousand. The Dagrene side seemed to have scraped together thirty thousand troops, but the difference in numbers, an absolute disparity in military strength, was significant, and while sufficient for defense, it was still too few to launch an offensive.
Capturing Ulfenite would, by any measure, take time.
Threatening their rear and isolating Ulfenite would have been the most effective strategy, but currently, such means were unavailable, resulting in a standoff.
The current situation was that due to internal squabbles in the kingdom’s central administration, the central military preparedness was lacking, and they hadn’t been able to launch a counteroffensive.
“What is the central command doing? Anyone should understand that we’ll be slowly impoverished if we don’t retake Ulfenite.”
“Hmm, Elthrene is a large country, so they’ve likely already concentrated sufficient forces in Ulfenite… Regardless of how they move from there, we’ll end up on the defensive.”
Countless possible actions could be conceived for the enemy.
Because it wouldn’t be strange no matter what move they made.
Maintain the current front lines and carve off territory.
Or invade the central regions, or perhaps the south.
Although there was no chance of them attacking us with the Great Forest of Trees at our back, they had countless ways to move.
“This is the worst. To think we can only wait for the enemy to grow stronger and fatter.”
The daughter of Baughan, nicknamed “Swift Thunder.”
Selene had received that kind of upbringing and respected her father.
Therefore, she was rather aggressive and preferred such tactics.
The current war situation was extremely unpleasant for her.
“Well, if we don’t mismanage our response, you could say we still have the upper hand, though.”
“The problem is that we keep mismanaging our response!”
While talking with Selene, who pouted her lips, they arrived at General Baughan’s tent.
“It’s Selene. I’ve brought Crishet.”
General Baughan’s voice was heard saying, “Come in,” and Selene opened the entrance, pulling Crishet’s hand as if to lead her in.