Chapter 113 - 10-1
The rain continued to fall.
The trees were drenched black, and the leaves repelled the water. The scattering raindrops hung in the air like a mist, making the forest look as if it were draped in a translucent white garment.
Hiding within that white mist, the monstrous Great King approached. Leading an army.
With that single report brought by the scouts, the atmosphere of Brazm's Siddim Royal Army changed. The level of tension spiked. Everyone looked around with restless eyes. The soldiers' eyes did not wander here and there to welcome the enemy. They were not the eyes of animals capturing prey, but the eyes of animals fleeing from a natural predator.
—Hoh.
Laicanel Thora was impressed.
The soldiers of the Royal Army knew the terror of the enemy general, Geraha Wolf, from the battle over the Twin Forts. Therefore, one should normally think that they were reacting simply because they had heard the name Geraha. The Western Army, which had led Laicanel, was not nearly as frightened upon hearing the name Geraha Wolf. One could say the Western Army was dull due to ignorance.
Laicanel did not think that way. It was not a difference in experience.
It was a difference in sense of purpose.
The Royal Army had stayed in Brazm for too long. At some point, their sense of purpose had snapped, and they had grown accustomed to the days on the battlefield. The life they had led here was blurring their objective. In contrast, the Western Army consisted of those who had heard Princess Lucy's speech just recently and had gathered spontaneously, inspired by it. Their sense of purpose was fresh. The concrete image formed by that consciousness was also different. The soldiers of the Western Army had burned into their hearts the strong impression of being spoken to by a princess of the royal family.
The youths who had come with Laicanel were carrying out their respective tasks while being pelted by the rain. Laicanel felt proud of them as they moved their bodies in silence.
Just then, General Glen Hilboro appeared from the tent.
He likely felt the flighty state of the Royal Army. While becoming a drowned rat in the rain, Hilboro raised his voice and gathered the nearby soldiers.
"Do not panic," Hilboro said. "Our army will withdraw to the rear and prepare for a comeback."
It was likely to prevent the soldiers from scattering in flight. The General stated that first and foremost. Hilboro wanted to tell the soldiers who were worried about their lives to calm down, and to be assured that they would be retreating properly. The Royal Army had a prior record of deserting in the face of the enemy. For Hilboro, the one thing he undoubtedly wanted to avoid was a situation where the army was annihilated due to its own soldiers scattering.
—The Royal Army fought and held out until the end.
Even if they were to lose, they would surely want to maintain at least this form.
Laicanel ran immediately.
He rushed into Hilboro's tent and shouldered the military banner of the Siddim army. When he stepped outside, he stood straight behind General Hilboro, holding the banner aloft at an angle.
The gathered soldiers tilted their heads, staring at the flag.
Glen Hilboro, perhaps noticing the angle of the soldiers' heads, looked back. With a large nod, the General approached Laicanel, lifted the edge of the flag, and showed the design to the soldiers.
"Look at this," Hilboro said. "Our commander-in-chief is the princess of the Alish house. If you are men, do not bring shame upon a princess of the royal family. Strive to behave accordingly."
"Lucy! Lucy! Lucy Alish!"
Laicanel shouted loudly.
No one chanted along. They were bewildered by the sudden shout. Laicanel continued regardless.
"Lucy! Lucy! Lucy Alish!"
The Western Army, who were in the middle of their work, responded.
—Lucy Alish! Lucy! Lucy!
Eventually, the soldiers of the Royal Army also responded, thrusting their fists up into the rainy sky.
The chanting of the shout spread.
"This flag is effective, isn't it?" Laicanel said.
"I feel apologetic that it's too effective," General Hilboro responded. "Yugis Necrat is a wicked fellow."
This was the situation in the morning. The Royal Army proceeded with preparations for retreat.
When afternoon came, the rain let up slightly, and the retreat gradually began. Starting with the wagons hitched to horses, they headed east along the narrow road. It was a time-consuming operation, like draining a lake one drop at a time.
Laicanel's Western Army was given the task of transporting baggage and military supplies. They were viewed more as laborers than soldiers. Although Laicanel was dissatisfied, he did not oppose the decision.
Laicanel himself did not join the retreat column and lingered in Brazm.
The moment the rain stopped, the battle began. All the soldiers on the Siddim side descended the hill and attacked boldly. By feigning this, they allowed the soldiers in the rear to escape.
The soldiers on the south side of Brazm had likely seen through this plan. They retreated skillfully.
By retreating, they seemed to want to guide the Siddim soldiers deep into the enemy camp.
General Hilboro's command was magnificent. He attacked fiercely in synchronization with the enemy's retreat. While appearing to do so, he surrounded a unit of the enemy who were slow to escape. When this happened, the enemy army stopped their feigned retreat. They turned toward the Royal Army once more.
The Siddim side held the initiative. The leadership of the Royal Army was also excellent. When the enemy's right wing emerged, they struck the right wing; when the left wing emerged, they struck the left wing. Despite it being obvious, the enemy would put out their right wing only to be struck, and put out their left wing only to be struck. This is what happens when one is on the defensive. The enemy had no choice but to react to their movements, making their actions easy to read and allowing them to be guided.
The Siddim side was gradually shaving away the Kosa side.
Likely to recover from the disadvantage, there was a scene where the prized Kosa cavalry tried to circle around to the rear, only to be driven back by a barrage of arrows from the Siddim archers.
Soon, a change appeared in the enemy's movements.
If one were to put it, they began to move haphazardly. They lost their cohesion and became fragmented.
Hilboro swiftly sent out messengers. It was only here that the Royal Army retreated. In response, they surrounded and struck the enemy who charged at them. The enemy army was moving based on the judgment of their individual units. Even when they charged, it was sporadic and lacked power.
Laicanel was impressed. Hilboro was merely sitting in the chair of the command post, watching. However, the orders issued via messengers fit together perfectly. It was like watching a master craftsman. The Royal Army, the legacy of his father, possessed an impressive level of training.
But, Laicanel thought secretly, the greatest cause of the enemy army's failure was undoubtedly because they lost their general. It was because Laicanel had captured Pusiteto.
If a general drops out of the battlefield, the next in rank becomes the general according to the hierarchy. Since it is an army, soldiers do not defy their superiors. However, it is not so simple that it works just because of that.
A general forms a trust with the soldiers, as if entrusting their lives to one another.
—Entrust your lives to me.
If a general commands arrogantly, the soldiers obey unconditionally. They build such a heavy relationship involving death. In other words, a general is not someone who can be immediately replaced by another.
The impact of Pusiteto's absence must be great.
For a brief moment, Laicanel remembered himself in the royal capital.
Back when he was the representative of the Third Army, Laicanel had been a good politician. But he might not have understood military affairs. Military affairs seemed to be something different. There is an element where the officers, soldiers, and the enemy army mix together messily, along with their emotions. It is not a matter of good or bad; war is an extreme emotional act. Attempting to control that with reason might be the general's endeavor.
Regardless, the current situation was a waste. The regrettable part was that they could not push further. Laicanel thought that with this posture, it might even be possible to crush them.
"General!" Laicanel headed toward the command post.
Hilboro turned around and widened his eyes. "You were still here?"
"I will retreat with the last unit of the Western Army."
"Young master, do not defy my orders."
"No, certainly—"
"It would not be good for all the generals to die here together."
"Die?"
"It is a hypothetical."
Hilboro returned his intellectual gaze to the battlefield. Laicanel also looked at the battlefield from Hilboro's perspective. Before he knew it, their army had retreated significantly.
"They're coming, Laicanel."
"What is?"
"Geraha Wolf. The scouts just returned. We will prepare with heavy cavalry. They are elites seasoned by a hundred battles. Our main force maintains a superior position in Brazm. There is no need to worry—"
"General, do you intend to stay?"
"Go, Laicanel. You have something in you. Do not use it here."
Hilboro twisted his lips. He seemed to have smiled.
A cold wind blew into Brazm. The wind made the fields ripple, and the dew on the grass scattered white. The moisture accumulated on the leaves of the trees was shaken off, making the sound of rain around them. Everyone present covered their eyes, struck by the strong wind.
When the wind passed and Laicanel opened his eyes, there was a presence on the western road leading to the highway. A sound was approaching. The wind had created a void on the battlefield. The presence seemed to be trying to fill that void.
"It is about time."
Only General Hilboro remained composed, raising his hand to give a signal.
A messenger cavalryman blew a horn and galloped his horse.
A moment later, a black torrent overflowed from the western road.
It was a column of enemy cavalry.
Something was wrong, Laicanel noticed. Before he could determine what was strange, the waiting Siddim heavy cavalry mobilized. They thrust their horse spears from the enemy's diagonal rear, charging in a triangular formation like an arrowhead.
They pierced the flank of the enemy's column. Cavalry are weak when their sides are targeted.
That was how it should have been.
However, what was reflected in Laicanel's eyes were the allied cavalry being blown away.
—Horses.
Laicanel saw the true identity of the black torrent.
There were cavalry, yes. However, most of the enemy column consisted of mere horses without riders. Kosa people use spare horses; to switch from exhausted horses, they bring two or three reserve horses. He had heard that from Yugis. In the vast grassland regions, they likely maintain speed by switching horses. Here in Siddim, it is not as wide as the grassland regions, and the roads are narrow.
—The enemy might not use spare horses.
Yugis had predicted that.
The spears of the Siddim heavy infantry were blocked by the riderless horses and did not reach the enemy. The cavalry clad in heavy armor lost their balance and fell from their horses one after another. Did the enemy use spare horses as a defensive wall? If so, what an extravagant use of horses.
Seeing the situation, General Hilboro's hips nearly lifted.
But he did not stand up from his chair. As if to deceive, the General sat back down firmly and crossed his legs.
"Go, Laicanel. Leave this to me."
"General, please come with me."
"I will follow later. You are in the way."
"General, you are the coordinator of the Siddim army. You are a person we need."
"I know—Laicanel, it's decided that I'm escaping. As if I'd die in a place like this."
The General looked up at Laicanel with exasperated eyes.
"Hilboro," Laicanel's tone returned to the western feudal relationship—the relationship of the Hilboro house being subordinate to the Thora house. "If you were to lose your life, I would be held responsible. Do not cause me trouble, alright?"
"That haughty tone is quite something, young master. It reminds me of your father," Hilboro said. "Now, please go."
Laicanel flourished his cloak and ran.
The General values this retreat that much. If they retreat to the east, there is a chance for a comeback. He had no choice but to believe that.
Laicanel finally entered the retreat after ordering his subordinate Stoke company.
As he left, he looked back at the battlefield.
The enemy cavalry had already reached a distance that could be called right before their lines. With a breakthrough maneuver that felt like it was piercing through, they were attacking incessantly, one after another.
Among the enemy ranks, there was one man who was not moving. He stood out because he was exceptionally large. He held neither bow nor spear, resting his folded arms on the upper rim of a round shield. On his ugly face with a distorted outline, there were shining eyes. One eye was strangely large, and the other was narrow.
—That is him.
Laicanel thought. The characteristics of the enemy general were known to all of the Siddim army.
The person called the Great King was leading this fierce battle from the front. It was an unconventional boldness, but it was an appearance that suited such audacity.
The enemy general was directing a disinterested and bland gaze toward Laicanel—or so it felt.
Laicanel's blood ran cold. His whole body felt as if it were buzzing. His pride having been wounded, he glared back desperately, thinking at least... If he retreated while feeling fear, it would become a flight. The Prince of the Thora house could not allow such a thing.
Ever since losing a point to Lucy Alish's army, Geraha had been constantly in a bad mood. As long as it became a winning battle, the discomfort in his chest would likely dissipate.
He had thought so, but it was no use. There was a feeling of nausea that simply would not subside.
—This is what you wanted, isn't it?
Geraha had a sadistic thought.
He felt that this depression could only be expressed by thinking in such a way.
—Siddim, this is the conclusion you desired, isn't it?
Geraha did not intend to be unreasonable. He wanted to create a road through the dark forest that should have belonged to the plains nations, opening a passage to Siddim. He intended to discuss the future of both Siddim and Kosa extensively. The fact that it unexpectedly became a war was because Siddim's forest hunters attacked first. Even so, Geraha tried to consider this beginning as an unfortunate misunderstanding.
Avoiding engagement as much as possible, he aimed straight for Malfa. Surrounding the castle did not mean "surrender immediately." He simply wanted to talk. There should have been a way to explore mutual benefits. If the castle fell, Siddim would have agreed to talk. If only the castle gates had opened, the King of Siddim would have understood that he was by no means an evil existence. And yet, the enemy raised the Western Army.
They rejected discussion from the start.
He knew that the people of Siddim were proud of their royal family. If that were the case, he would not have abolished that royal family, the Alish house. On the contrary, he suggested that Alish and Wolf should harmonize. The Alish house they were proud of could have become a bloodline of global scale.
But the enemy refused.
As if brushing an insect off their body, they sent the Western Army.
—Is it because I am ugly?
Is it because I am ugly?
While knowing that appearance was unrelated, Geraha thought self-deprecatingly.
Do they hate me that much? To the point where they don't even need to hear what I have to say. Do they think Kosa is inferior? Do they think Kosa people are primitive? To the point where they cannot even talk?
The meaning of the enemy's resistance to this extent must be that. They hate Kosa. They loathe Geraha. They look down on him. Geraha thought it was unforgivable. The cause of the discomfort was undoubtedly this.
—I will take the enemy general Lucy as my wife.
By force if necessary. I will make her my primary consort.
If she rejects me in the bedroom, that is fine too. I will not embrace her. If she says she cannot bear my children, then the Alish house can all be slaughtered and the bloodline of the Siddim royal family can end there. I will not be troubled.
There is a woman who said she "likes" me.
In the middle of the battle, Geraha smiled faintly and thought of the woman.
He would make Hishaku's elder sister-in-law his first concubine. She is Big Brother Astai's younger sister; he would surely cherish her. Furthermore, he could just decide that the elder brother's child, Quimel, would be the heir.
He would make Kohal his second concubine. The elder sister-in-law is a kind person. If she thinks of her as Meira's daughter, she might not think poorly of Kohal. He wanted to love Kohal most of all. He wanted her to be in his arms. He wanted to give her the most beautiful clothes and hair ornaments in the world. Kohal might make a curt face toward such items.
But what if he asked her? Would she wear them? She is a beauty, so they would surely suit her. If she wished, he would hold a wedding ceremony in the Roma religion. It could not be done openly. It might become a ceremony for just the two of them.
—But wait.
Geraha intended to engage in passion with Kohal to his heart's content. If a boy were born from that, what would happen to Quimel? Geraha thought of various things, but in the end, no answer came. He wouldn't know until the time came.
Regardless, Geraha noticed that his mood had improved.
He had tried not to think of Kohal. He felt that if he thought of her, his feelings would be disturbed, his intuition would dull, and he would become weak. He was wrong. Kohal's existence gave Geraha confidence. He loved her. How Kohal felt about Geraha might be surprisingly irrelevant. It was nothing more than the fact that Geraha had liked Kohal since he was a child. Once he admitted he liked her, a power different from being liked erupted. It was the power of desire to possess the other. This gave a man a drunken sort of happiness.
Battle was taking place around Geraha.
The enemy's heavy infantry held large shields that shone silver, lined up firmly side by side.
The Kosa cavalry shot arrows at them, approached, and cut off the tips of the spears. Some skillfully manipulated their horses to leap over the enemy's lateral line and dive into the enemy ranks. It was not just one or two. Countless Kosa cavalry leaped into the forest of spears. It was a fierce assault. It was obvious to anyone's eyes that this would collapse, and indeed, the enemy's lateral line collapsed.
It was the final line of defense.
The enemy's rout began. Geraha ordered a pursuit.
It was around the time the sun set. The enemy general was brought in.
That night, Laicanel saw hell.
He had the feeling that in this one night, the Royal Army guarding the road had been halved. The brave were wounded or killed in action, and those who were not fled in defeat. The Western Army led by Laicanel was not unscathed. There were casualties among the light infantry.
The enemy had pursued them.
The rear guard seemed to have collapsed. Laicanel took command of the Royal Army. He had no leeway to confirm General Hilboro's safety.
Laicanel thought it was fortunate that they had left the fields of Brazm and reached the highway.
The narrowness of the road was advantageous for defending with infantry. They could defend until the spears were blunt. The north and south of the highway were forests, so the enemy could not maneuver. Still, there was a possibility that they would force their way through the forest and head directly for the east in a great detour typical of Kosa people. Laicanel himself had accomplished such a thing.
However, they were a horse-riding people. Even if they challenged the deep forests of a foreign land, they would likely become isolated and wither away. They would fall from their horses due to a lack of fodder. Even if they managed to traverse the forest, they would be in the very middle of unfamiliar enemy territory. There was likely nothing they could do.
Also, it was conceivable that the enemy would let southern infantry infiltrate the forest and circle around to their rear. Laicanel ordered the Western Army's hunters to keep watch over the forest behind them.
On top of that, he sent out several messengers requesting reinforcements from Saranti and Ganlord.
All that was left was to defend. He should have been able to defend.
The enemy army did not flinch. They thrust at them time and again. They charged. They had no choice but to retreat. In the first place, it was a retreat operation. Everyone was prepared to move backward.
They set fire to wagons that had been overturned to block the road, burning them, and retreated while dropping torches at intervals along the road. They lit up the road and set up a defensive line in the darkness further down the path. The brightness of the fire would expose the enemy's forms.
Arrows flew from beyond that light.
The arrows were invisible.
Only the sound howled like a flute, grazing their bodies.
Everyone huddled behind their shields. The barrage of short bows was so fierce that they could not even lift their faces.
After making them huddle like that, the enemy lightly switched their bows for spears and charged. This had a presence. Horses are animals with good night vision. Like dogs and cats, their eyes glow green in the darkness. A horse's eyes do not face forward. The fact that those eyes reflected light was proof that the horses were shaking their heads.
Countless green lights danced wildly in the darkness. Those lights approached rapidly with a momentum that seemed to draw lines.
There should be no animal as timid as a horse. They bolt at the slightest noise. But what were these Kosa warhorses; they charged in a frenzy. They even leaped over fires. Even when spears were pointed at them, they leaped and came at them. Just one or two doing that would disrupt the lateral line of the defending infantry. To fix that, the infantry stepped back. Laicanel had another wagon screen installed in the rear. The Siddim soldiers desperately pushed back the rushing enemy cavalry with spears before fleeing behind the newly installed screen.
It seemed this would be repeated all night long.
An opportunity finally came for Laicanel.
The road, which had been straight until then, curved.
Even the Kosa people did not have the skill to make a fired arrow curve. It was a road following the arc of an embankment that bulged to the east. If they set up a defense in the shadow of the embankment, the enemy's arrows would not reach. Unless they turned the curved road and came right before their eyes, the enemy's arrows would not hit.
Laicanel prepared archers behind the infantry.
As expected, the enemy omitted the suppression by arrows and charged in a column.
Since they had to turn the curved road, their speed slowed slightly, and for a moment, the horses exposed their flanks. Helped by the fact that they had fired fire-arrows to light up the bend, the Siddim arrows were effective. Enemy cavalry fell in heaps and retreated in haste.
Once this happened, the concern became the high ground on the embankment side. It was covered in trees, but the enemy army might gallop down from there.
Laicanel ordered the Western Army to seize this high ground. If it went well, the enemy camp would come into view.
However, the enemy had been thinking exactly the same thing.
A fierce battle between the Western Army and the southern infantry began in the forest of the high ground.
Now that this had happened, they could not simply retreat. If they pulled back, they would be leaving behind the soldiers engaged in combat. Laicanel declared that they would hold this point. Although it already looked like hell, the true hell began from here.
They had to hold out against both the battle on the high ground and the enemy coming from the curved road.
Laicanel did not let the line budge an inch. That he could do so might have been due to his innate optimism. Laicanel was a pampered young master. Things he wanted were given to him even without asking. He unconsciously believed it would be the same this time; that kind of certain dullness prevented Laicanel from panicking.
He was convinced that if they just endured, the enemy would be the ones to give up.
The enemy did not flinch at all. As always, their arrows hit the enemy. The enemy must have suffered considerable attrition. Yet, the enemy repeated their charges.
Laicanel had already overturned more than ten wagons, blocking the road in multiple layers. He had also established a posture to pick off the enemy's horses with arrows while they were hindered by the wagon screens. Yet the enemy sent cavalry incessantly.
—Something is wrong.
Laicanel broke into a cold sweat on his back.
He was a man who had casually put his hand inside the clothes of noblewomen that every man longed for. He was a man who had played with women's breasts and genitals indiscriminately while thinking this is boring as hell.
He had trusted his own luck. Yet his body reacted with fear. There was no sign that the enemy would give up. Laicanel suppressed the twitching of his face. He was desperate to appear composed.
He had embraced the Queen right beside the King. He had been calm even in prison. Somewhere in his heart, he knew he would be saved. Except for his father, the only person he truly feared was Lucy. He had always been bold and never lost hope. That confidence was wavering.
—Those eyes.
Those eyes of the Kosa Great King, of uneven size. Emotionless eyes, feelingless eyes. From the start, they were the color of eyes with neither emotion nor feeling. Laicanel was planted with fear by that gaze, which seemed to peer at him from another dimension. Laicanel did not know what the true form of those eyes was. However, the futile activity before his eyes, the hellish repetition of collisions, seemed to resonate with the color of those cave-like eyes.
He clenched his fists to hide the shaking of his hands and walked around so the shaking of his legs would not be seen. Before he knew it, time had passed. Dawn had broken. In the faintly emerging forest, the valley-like road, the slope of the embankment. There were corpses everywhere.
Suddenly, Laicanel's ears caught the sound of hoofbeats.
From behind, silver knights reflecting the dawn light arrived. They were the heavy cavalry of Saranti.
"Please step back, Western Army General," a knight with a youthful face said.
"Have we met somewhere?" Laicanel looked up at the young man on horseback.
"Raslaf Dravar, son of the Countess of Saranti. Beyond this point is the newly built fort of Urgil Necrat. Please evacuate."
The boy who identified himself as Raslaf Dravar smiled faintly.
There was a coldness in his voice that was not explicitly stated.
Wondering if he had done something to be disliked, Laicanel realized.
—Right, this was the east.
The knights of Saranti cleared the screens and galloped their horses fiercely toward the enemy camp.
"Rejection?" Hilboro said in the Enagamo language.
While Laicanel was fighting fear in the darkness, Hilboro had been given a change of clothes and invited into a warm tent. He had been invited to the enemy general's dinner. A table and chairs had been prepared.
Hilboro had seen Geraha Wolf from a distance during the battles around the Twin Forts. He knew him as a large and ugly man. Still, facing him in person, the pressure felt several times stronger. The chair the Great King sat in creaked. The chair was pitiful, but the Great King also looked cramped.
Wine and mutton dishes were lined up on the table. The wine was delicious. That was only natural, as it seemed to be something looted from Hilboro's personal belongings.
"Siddim rejects Kosa—"
Hilboro put a piece of mutton in his mouth, intending to create a pause.
The fat was rich, and the seasoning seemed to be salt. It was surprisingly refreshing and not bad.
"To condemn that is like a wolf telling a wild rabbit 'do not run'."
"Are you wild rabbits?" The Great King had a somewhat dull expression.
"It means that everyone has the right to resist."
"You are not wild rabbits, and we are not wolves. Are we not human to human? There was a way to discuss and proceed amicably."
"That is a child's logic. Even if we were to discuss, with military force as the backdrop, we would have no choice but to do as you say."
"If you wanted to be equals, you should have won. I gave you the opportunity. We won at the Twin Forts. In Brazm too, if you were so inclined, I would have dealt with you as much as you liked. We surrounded the capital, and the match was decided. The war should have ended already. What is this 'Western Army'? What is that?"
"It is the will of Siddim, Great King," Hilboro raised his face.
His gaze clashed fiercely with the enemy general's.
"In other words, it is a rejection."
"We have a will as well. Just as you, Great King, have the will for world conquest."
"It is not my will," the Great King muttered softly.
"Are you saying you started it because someone told you to? You should be bearing all the responsibility."
"I bear all the responsibility. However, I started it because I was told to by someone."
"By whom?"
Geraha raised one black finger and pointed it upward.
—Does he intend to say, "to the heavens"?
Hilboro stared at Great King Geraha's inactive expression.
"Regardless," the Great King shook his head, making the chair creak. "If that is your will, then we have no choice but to go until we reach the end. I will also put my heart into dealing with you. Though I don't think there is any benefit."
"We won't know until we try until the end."
The meal was not yet over, and the conversation turned to small talk.
"Setting up siege engines and attacking the hill of the Twin Forts was good. That woke me up."
"The Great King's response was also magnificent."
"You fought your own battle. I am by no means a great person as the world says, but I was impressed by that. I, for my part, wanted to fight my own war."
"I see. However, the Great King's war is too magnificent to be of use to future generations. Piercing through the enemy with only cavalry and liberating a hill is something only you can do."
"I think that's better. I don't know if leaving the methods of war for future generations would actually bring happiness to humanity."
"If one polishes tactics and wins quickly, the number of war dead will be that much smaller."
"If you don't want to produce war dead, you should research ways to avoid war."
He said interesting things effortlessly with a strange face.
As they talked, Hilboro realized he was developing a liking for Geraha Wolf.
Geraha did not use the skillful method of charm that soldiers often use with subordinates—acting scary to intimidate them, then grinning and praising them.
This Great King was simply approachable. He had a straightforward and cute side. He might be younger than he looked. Every time Geraha smiled shyly with his strange face, Hilboro was drawn in further.
—A strange man.
Even if he came to like Geraha, he would not do anything to betray his homeland. But even so, if it were a country this man created, he wanted to see it.
Hilboro snapped out of it and looked around.
Around the dining table in the tent, along with guards, several Kosa and southern people who looked like military bureaucrats were standing. They were gazing at the Great King with smiles. They likely liked the Great King too. They were probably thinking that if it were a country the Great King created, they would want to follow him there.
—So this was the kind of man he was.
The opponent he had been fighting.
This is a formidable enemy, Hilboro realized now, belatedly.