“The fortress is still fighting valiantly. It seems we can hold off the third wave of attacks as well,” the messenger reported to Borgan, then glanced at Crishet, the creator of the fortress.
Even now, she remained seated in her chair, clad in a black and silver dress with a cloak, showing no interest in the report and gazing at the map on the desk. Though she was equipped with a curved sword, a dagger, and gauntlets, her attire was so out of place for a battlefield that it almost evoked a sense of bewilderment.
Crishet’s magically enhanced body was faster than a horse if she so desired. It was Crishet’s stubborn insistence that if she didn’t need a horse, she didn’t want to wear trousers.
In the village, women were expected to wear long dresses—one-piece dresses. Therefore, Crishet disliked wearing trousers unless absolutely necessary, and she insisted on wearing a dress and cloak even in this situation. In Crishet’s mind, trousers were only to be worn when she had to fight on horseback, and wearing them for any other purpose was an affront to her sense of aesthetics.
While the uniforms and armor for soldiers below the rank of sergeant were standardized, those of higher rank were generally responsible for providing their own clothing and armor. Therefore, there was nothing wrong with Crishet’s attire in terms of regulations, and no one dared to complain about her unwavering stance that “Crishet is just here to deliver a letter.” And she remained steadfast. This was also influenced by Berry’s words before she left: “Don’t stick your nose into anything strange.” Since her purpose was to deliver the letter, anything else was considered “strange.” She had only participated in the meeting and the construction of the fortress because she was told to, and Crishet herself had no intention of participating in this battle.
Selene, exasperated by her attitude, managed to convince her to wear gauntlets as a token gesture, giving the appearance that she was wearing armor, but Selene gave up on anything more.
Everyone knew Crishet’s abilities, and if Crishet said that armor was heavy and more of a hindrance than a help, they couldn’t force her to wear it. She was a thoroughgoing efficiency expert. If she said so, it was likely to be true.
Crishet had no interest in the fortress’s situation, even as she listened. While she pretended to look at the map, she was engrossed in the candy in her mouth.
Berry, anticipating that Crishet wouldn’t be able to return immediately, had sent her additional candy. Thanks to this, Crishet was able to enjoy her daily two candies, and she was in a very good mood as she savored the last one.
Although Crishet had been deeply involved in the planning of the operation, all possible enemy actions and their countermeasures had already been thoroughly communicated to the entire army. Thanks to Borgan’s own reforms, the Chrishtand army had a well-established system for the education of non-commissioned officers and officers, as well as for information dissemination. As a result, there was nothing for Crishet to do. Selene had told her to sit tight for the time being, so she was just sitting there, not really doing anything.
“Report from Fourth Legion Commander Faren: the attack on the enemy supply train was successful.”
“…Excellent. As expected of Commander Faren. The situation is tilting in our favor.”
Simultaneously with the construction of the fortress, a portion of the troops had been deployed as ambushers in the mountains. This allowed them to attack the enemy supply train passing through the south side of the mountains, and this was the report of its success.
It had already been ten days since she arrived here. Seven days since the enemy’s arrival. The enemy, having had their supply lines cut off, would soon be in serious trouble.
“We’d like to try to break through when the opportunity arises, but…”
“It can’t be helped… It backfired on them that the enemy camp is in muddy terrain. If we attack now, our casualties will be even greater. Soldiers won’t be able to endure a charge through the mud,” Garen said, shaking his head at Borgan’s words.
Selene said, “We’ve had such clear weather. Won’t it dry up in another two or three days?”
“It would if it continues—but with the mountains nearby, the weather is unpredictable. It depends on the weather. Either way, the enemy’s morale will decline over time. They seem to have brought about half a month’s worth of supplies… Crishet, what do you think?”
Crishet was addressed, and she did some quick calculations in her head.
The attack on the enemy supply train was successful—but that didn’t mean they had burned all the supplies. As it was an ambush, they couldn’t spend too much time, and the enemy’s guards were also considerable in number. The Fourth Legion, which had carried out the raid on the supply train, was very capable, but there were bound to be some that got away. Taking into account the number of soldiers who had carried out the ambush and the size of the enemy supply train, she calculated how much supplies would reach the enemy.
“About fifteen days, I’d say. If the enemy’s casualties remain as they are, they will reach 4,000. That means less rations are needed… It depends on when the enemy realizes they’ve lost their supply train from the homeland, but even if they realize it today, they’ll run out in about twenty days at most,” Crishet replied, rolling the candy around in her mouth.
“There is also the possibility that casualties will increase, further prolonging the situation… but in that case, the enemy will have completely lost their numerical advantage and the advantage of terrain over us, so I don’t think we need to worry too much about that.”
“I see. So the problem is—”
“The ten thousand left in the west, or supplies from the center of the enemy invasion force.”
“Ah. But as a general psychological matter, I don’t think they’ll request supplies from the center, which would be the key to the invasion of the south. For now, they’ll bring them from the ten thousand in the west. If they’re desperate, that’s a possibility, but…”
Borgan had sufficient intelligence as a general. He mostly asked Crishet for mathematical calculations. Crishet rolled the candy around in her mouth as she checked the positions of both sides.
“If the enemy realizes they’ve lost their supplies, can we find out immediately through agents or something?”
“There’s no problem with that. I’ve already given the order.”
“Then, as soon as that’s confirmed, how about building a defensive position at the river crossing in the west with a legion of 5,000 soldiers? If we show them that we’re preparing for a night attack and make them run at night, their reaction will be delayed.”
“…With 5,000? Isn’t that too dangerous?” Selene frowned.
“If the enemy sends a large force there, we can take down the enemy’s main camp with a counterattack by our main force. Conversely, if they leave them there, they can resist at the defensive position and pin down the enemy’s forces. If the shortest route here is blocked, the enemy will inevitably have to move the supply train in a large detour, so we can buy time.”
“…Ah. So it’s okay even if the enemy supplies arrive. The legion at the defensive position should only harass the enemy supply train and not carry out any aggressive attacks.”
“Yes. The detour will waste the rations they deliver, and the enemy soldiers’ morale will drop as time passes. And they will have to request new supplies immediately.”
Borgan pondered and nodded.
“So the problem is our main camp, which will be thinly defended… no, the number of troops that can be assigned to the battle front at one time is negligible. Either way, we can reserve enough troops as reserves, right?”
“Yes. If we buy a few days and make the supplies detour, we can move the legion at the defensive point, use them for a flank attack, or have them stand by as reserves in the rear again. Crishet feels that it would be better to maintain the stalemate here, as originally planned, unless a good opportunity arises.”
“Alright. Let’s go with that… Messenger, call Kolchis.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Hah hah hah, I see. It’s certainly a difficult mission, but I was getting bored anyway. Leave it to me.”
A giant of a man like a boulder—Second Legion Commander Kolchis Naktora Linea Argrand.
One might even think that he had trained the muscles in his face. His muscular physique felt especially large inside the tent. The tiger-shaped helmet and armor made him look even more valiant, accompanied by a strong sense of intimidation. His booming voice was grating on the ears, and Crishet and others would slightly frown every time he spoke.
His voice and body were all large. He was a man who would make one feel oppressed in such a tent, but to the soldiers who saw his size on the battlefield, his voice and appearance gave them a strong sense of security, turning it into an advantage. If First Legion Commander Northern, who skillfully manipulated his troops, was soft, then this man was hard. He was an excellent warrior who could be said to be the best in Chrishtand at simple charges and defenses. He had taken countless heads in one-on-one duels, and the soldiers who followed such a hero were also extremely strong. It could be said that he was the right person for this mission.
“But General, you’ve adopted a fine young lady. Both of you, despite being women, have a tactical eye that ordinary men don’t possess. I want my son to learn from you.”
“So saying, Colquis looked at the handsome young man, the general’s messenger.
The young man lowered his eyes, silently receiving the gaze.
“Don’t say that, Colquis. Gran is also fulfilling his duties more than adequately. Regardless of the other generals, I wouldn’t assign someone to be a messenger unless they were sharp-witted and excellent.”
“It’s his cowardice that’s the problem. I hear that Crishet-sama easily slew a dozen or so bandits, isn’t that right?”
“That child is exceptional. If she were to wield her sword, even I couldn’t win against her. Besides, cowardice isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s best to place people in positions where their abilities can be fully utilized according to their individual temperaments.”
“I can understand that, but…”
Looking unconvinced, Colquis raised both hands and said, “Well, let’s drop that subject.”
“You make the decision to withdraw, Colquis.”
“Yes, sir. If the enemy numbers exceed ten thousand, we’ll likely only be able to hold out for two or three days.”
“That’s fine. If you judge it to be impossible, give up immediately.”
“Otou-sama, how about reassigning the workers who were used for the dam? I think they could be useful in setting up defensive positions…”
“A good observation. Colquis, go ahead and pull the necessary workers from there. Crishet, how much surplus do we have in the fort’s reserve materials?”
“…I believe they can take about half of the reserve materials. We have a considerable surplus.”
Compared to building a regular fort, only about half the materials had been used. The workers, upon hearing they were to construct a fort, had sent an estimated amount of materials downriver, resulting in a considerable surplus.
“In that case… it seems best to have them shaped into stakes now. It doesn’t look like we’ll have much time to spare for setting up the encampment.”
“Indeed. I’ll have my men take care of that.”
“Colquis, do not reveal the details. We don’t know where enemy ears might be. Issue the order under the guise that they are temporarily assisting the fort repair workers on my command.”
“Yes, sir. I will inform only my adjutant and the battalion commander involved in this task.”
And so, Colquis left the command tent.
Crishet found the loud-voiced man annoying, but Selene poked her cheek, saying, “Don’t make that face,” and Crishet let out the air from her slightly puffed cheeks.
From that point on, a battle unfolded where the Chrishtand army maintained a one-sided grip on the initiative against the Salzhenka army, which was continually forced onto the back foot.
It was two days later that they realized they had lost their supply train from the homeland.
Aleha quickly dispatched a messenger, requesting an urgent shipment of provisions from the troops left in the west.
Then, the next day, noticing that 5,000 enemy troops had vanished, Aleha sent in 6,000 soldiers, primarily nomadic cavalry.
At this time, the forces facing each other across the river numbered 11,000 for the Chrishtand army against 13,000 for the Salzhenka army.
Their relied-upon supply column had been annihilated by a surprise attack, and supplies from their remaining forces were forced to take a detour.
The drop in morale was severe. Their numerical superiority no longer existed, and the failure of the initial river crossing still lingered. Against the Chrishtand army, renowned for its strength, a slight numerical advantage was no cause for reassurance at all.
And furthermore, a food shortage—at this rate, defeat was inevitable.
The recovery of footing due to good weather, at this point, only served to worsen their predicament.
The 10,000 troops left behind could not be moved.
If they were brought east, their rear communication lines could easily be cut off if Ulfenite came under attack by the enemy’s central army.
No matter how strong a castle, it cannot function on its own. It is the logistics that maintain it which give it strategic value.
Aleha still perceived Chrishtand’s movements as a feint to aid the capture of Ulfenite, just as he had initially thought, and because of this, his actions were restricted.
And because he had communicated his personal view of Chrishtand’s movements to the Ulfenite defense force and the southern invasion force, the southern invasion was forced to remain on standby, despite being ready to commence at any time.
This was because if the enemy was aiming to recapture Ulfenite, it would be the most desirable development for the Empire.
Despite it being a complete surprise attack, the Empire had paid a heavy price for the capture of Ulfenite.
That was how superior Ulfenite was as a strategic point.
If the enemy was plotting to recapture Ulfenite, he believed they could easily repel them by coordinating the three armies around Ulfenite—and if they could repel the central army, the invasion of the south, which would then be isolated, would be even easier.
Moreover, depending on the circumstances, they could even consider the fall of the enemy capital. That would mean complete victory in this war.
However, the other two armies did not completely trust Aleha’s words, and each was using agents to investigate the enemy’s internal situation. The reports were all “clear”—meaning there was no such information.
It was only a matter of time before they became convinced that this current move was by the Chrishtand army alone. But before that, the battle in the north would reach its conclusion.
“General! Vice-General Daklarsha has—”
A bitter decision—it was right after dispatching the messenger requesting supplies from the central command.
What reached the ears of Aleha, who was observing the battle’s progress from horseback in the main camp, was the news of the death in battle of the Vice-General on the right flank—who had personally entered the mountains to command.
And at the same time, he learned that with the loss of the Vice-General’s aide as well, the chain of command in the mountains had fallen into chaos.
In the Imperial army, similar to the Kingdom’s army, high-ranking officers are assigned aides—what would be called adjutants in the Kingdom’s army—to act as their deputies in times of emergency.
Normally, someone of the rank below—in the Kingdom, a Legion Commander after a General—would be promoted through a field appointment, but they are often in different locations, so it cannot happen immediately.
In such situations, temporarily taking over command was the most important role of aides and adjutants.
However, when they are both killed in action together, the field inevitably falls into confusion.
To find a further replacement, the most senior officer of a lower rank had to be made to take command, and under the adverse conditions of the mountains, this was an extremely difficult task.
In the mountains, the soldiers had fallen into a panic and were being routed piecemeal.
He had known the enemy would likely attempt a flanking attack from the mountain side, which was precisely why he had entrusted command to a reliable Vice-General.
For that to be breached so easily, and for the report of the commander’s death to arrive before a battle report, even Aleha’s brilliant mind momentarily froze.
“What happened to the defensive formation on the mountain side! I had given them four thousand soldiers! How could this lead to such a situation…!”
“Hic!”
The sight of the usually gentle general enraged. The messenger, whose tunic front had been grabbed, was terrified.
Seeing that face, he felt ashamed that his actions were mere lashing out, and immediately let go. At the very least, Aleha Salzhenka possessed the virtue of recognizing and correcting his own mistakes.
“…My apologies. That was just me taking it out on you. …So, is there any other information on the situation?”
“Everyone is in a state of confusion… I was made to run here immediately to inform you, but, um…”
“I need any information you have. What is it?”
“Well, they said… a monster appeared…”
“…A monster? Some kind of demonic beast?”
Just as there are humans who can wield magical power, such beings also exist among beasts.
Because beasts already possess bodies tougher than humans, demonic beasts are a cut above mere animals, and slaying one is difficult enough to warrant a knighthood.
Demonic beasts generally lurk deep in forests or mountains uninhabited by people, but I know of no information about such a creature appearing in this vicinity.
However, if it were true, it would be the worst of luck.
“No, it’s… they said it was a humanoid fiend—a young girl with silver hair.”
“…It’s probably just a skilled noble. It can’t be helped if she appeared that way to the soldiers, but…”
The difference between those who can manipulate magical power and those who cannot is vast. While individual differences are significant and it’s not something that can be generalized, a magic wielder possessing a certain level of skill and magical power often appears as a monster-like existence to ordinary people.
The enemy’s Second Legion Commander, who effortlessly brandishes a great war spear that seems forged entirely of steel, is a prime example.
Nevertheless, between a skilled magic wielder and a demonic beast, he couldn’t decide which would be worse.
“—General! The enemy has appeared from the mountains on our right!”
“Damn it! Send out Targan from the reserves! Don’t let them near the river, no matter what! We can’t let the enemy establish a bridgehead here!”
After watching the new messenger quickly mount his horse and ride off, he clicked his tongue.
What should I do? What should I—
“General. …If it’s now, we can still make it. Please give the order to withdraw.”
A well-trained physique, even as he approached old age.
The one who spoke was the General’s Aide.
“Withdraw?! What will happen if we withdraw? This invasion is—”
“…Waka-sama.”
The General’s Adjutant, Waltzer Grizlandy, who had served as Areha’s tutor since his youth, addressed the General by his old title, “Young Master.”
“…You must have realized. The initiative will no longer return to our hands.”
His tone was like that of one gently trying to make him understand.
Waltzer received a simple helmet adorned with a red mane and a great steel spear from an orderly, and donned them.
“This time, we were thoroughly outmaneuvered by General Chrishtand’s skillful guidance. Facts are facts; it can certainly be called a major blunder. …However, you are still young. You can still stage a recovery in the future. At least, that is what I believe. In the past, you have learned from many failures, and each time, you grew stronger. I have witnessed it by your side many times.”
“…Waltzer.”
Areha clenched his fists.
Now that things had come to this, there were no options left.
Given that it was a surprise attack from the flank, it was only a matter of time before they established a bridgehead on the river.
With the forest troops proving unreliable, their numbers were on par—no, they were at a disadvantage.
And the soldiers’ morale, which had plummeted due to food shortages, the failed river crossing, the enemy’s offensive, and the surprise attack, was now beyond recovery.
He understood.
“I shall take up the rearguard. Targan will make a fine commander. He is a subordinate you will need in the times to come… I shall meet the enemy’s blades. Recall him, and retreat with him.”
Lowering his face, filled with anguish, Areha declared in a trembling voice,
“…I will avenge you, without fail. I swear on my, on this name, Waltzer.”
“That’s my Young Master. …May fortune favor you in battle. May the gods’ divine protection be with you.”
“Merits and honor, in the Heavenly Kingdom, I shall surely share them with you.”
Waltzer smiled, looking pleased, and spurred his horse onward.
Areha could do nothing but watch his retreating figure, then quickly shifted his mindset back to that of a General.