Chapter 117 - 10-5
While Maslow City's Ganlord Castle was embroiled in endless disputes, Cloden Danforth had passed through the Dwarf Mountains and returned to Dint. The man who welcomed Cloden was Ernes Anil, the Administrator of Carossa, a plump man with fair skin.
Representing Carossa, he had been waiting for Cloden's return.
Dint and Carossa were to coordinate in the upcoming operation. The plan was to hole up in the Dwarf Mountains and then plunge down into the enemy lines. Without even a moment to look upon his wife's face, Cloden conducted the final confirmation of the operation with Ernes. They remained shut away in a room of Hybanes Castle in Dint until late into the night.
Then, Hemrik, who was supposed to have been left behind in Ganlord, arrived. Hemrik was the leader of Dint's mountain rangers. Despite departing a day after Cloden, he had already caught up.
"Has it begun?"
The moment he saw Hemrik's sagging face, Cloden kicked his chair back and stood up.
The situation was such that it would not be strange for the operation to commence at any moment.
Hemrik shook his head.
—The thing is, it's turned into something strange.
That was Hemrik's preamble. Combat had taken place in Brazm. As a result, the Siddim Central Army had reportedly lost Brazm. Laicanel, who was supposed to be in the west, had made a long march and was now in Ganlord. Laicanel and Haider were in a massive dispute over the right of command.
Cloden was so shocked he nearly lost his footing.
In fact, he staggered so much that his cloak swept the floor, but he endured by gripping the back of the chair. "A-as expected of Haider."
In truth, he wanted to unleash a torrent of vitriol and curse Haider. If the man were before him, he might have shouted at him. What are you doing at a time like this? At a time like this!
Just start it, I don't care how! We're missing our chance!
That was what he wanted to say.
However, to say that, Cloden knew too much about his friend. Haider could not yield the operation for the sake of the east. Haider could not betray the convictions, history, and emotions of the east. They were comrades who had gathered for the purpose of opposing the Thora family. Those comrades were the main axis of the operation. This war, this operation, was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that the east had waited for over many years.
There was no room in the east to give preferential treatment to Laicanel-bochan. They were about to undertake an enterprise in which people would die. They could not carry out the operation with Laicanel as the general. They could not use the lives of the eastern soldiers for Laicanel's advancement. Such a thing was unforgivable.
"You say 'as expected,' but is that truly the case?"
Ernes Anil was almost pale.
"Is our operation not a flickering lamp in the wind?"
It is exactly so, Cloden thought.
Siddim had lost the fields of Brazm.
That meant Geraha Wolf was coming. If that were the case, not a single minute, not a single second should be neglected.
If Great King Geraha Kosa intended to strike the east, a single word would suffice. He might only need to move a single finger.
Do it.
That would be all. With that, the east would be forced into a defensive position. The plan would collapse.
—Do you understand?
Haider likely understood.
Even if he understood, it was likely a situation where he could do nothing about it.
In Ganlord, the discussions between Haider, Laicanel, and Aram continued throughout the night. Even so, they had yet to find a point of compromise. It was as if the more these three repeated their discussions, the more they fell into a self-imposed bind and became incompetent. The table was beginning to take on the aspect of a three-way deadlock.
Perhaps because the excitement of the brain had exceeded its limit from talking without sleep, Haider Skyner finally showed his fortitude. He remained stubbornly insistent on the interests of the east.
Laicanel began to grow impatient, and the argument tilted toward Haider. However, Laicanel was far more tenacious than Haider had thought. He began to say complicated things.
"There is something I noticed while watching Lucy."
Perhaps because of their connection as former fiancés, Laicanel called the Commander by her given name.
"What is it that maddens human judgment and leads it in the wrong direction? Ideals and notions. Those are what drive people mad. Because ideals and notions exist only within the human head. Chasing those illusions, people wander into the mist. Into a thick fog that hides reality. And among them, the worst of all is the notion of justice. This is the most toxic. Justice makes humans abnormal. Even animals can normally do what is essentially the basis of life—fearing death—but a human who has been breathed into with justice becomes unable to do so."
"What are you talking about?"
"You, Haider."
Dark circles appeared under Laicanel's eyes. It was strange that his haggard expression emitted a certain allure.
"You are trapped by the ideal of justice and are driving the situation into danger. You are wasting time by obsessing too much over the east."
"Just... just..." Haider looked up to the heavens and squeezed out his voice. "Just how many times must I say it for you to understand! It is precisely because I am realistic that I want you to step back. This isn't an ideal; this is reality. I am telling you that you cannot win. This is a matter of practical benefit."
"That is your desire, Haider. Not reality. Look closely at reality; I will say it clearly, there is no such thing as an 'Eastern Army.' What is called the Eastern Army is nothing more than a local force gathered because the Royal Army sought cooperation. Even if an Eastern Army existed, it would be nothing more than a subordinate organization of the Royal Army. And the Royal Army is the Majesty's army, founded by my father, Sedias Thora, and inherited by the Father's confidant, Excellency Hilboro. Naturally, it would be legitimate for me to inherit it. It cannot be ignored. To ignore it would be unrealistic."
"Was it not General Hilboro who defined the Eastern Army?"
Laicanel widened his eyes and shrugged. "According to General Hilboro's definition, both the Eastern Army and the Western Army belong under the Central Army—that is, the Royal Army."
"At this point, at this point you bring up such a difference in interpretation? I can't believe it."
"You were the one who insisted on principles."
"Aram! You as well—"
When Haider looked, Aram Danforth was completely fast asleep.
Haider held his head in his hands.
Around this time, Zeal Androsh had gathered his comrades and was holding a secret meeting in a room within the castle.
"We cannot let the Western Thora family trample the east."
With a vicious gaze, Zeal looked around at his comrades. It was the eye of a mad dog, one that had intimidated numerous gangsters and rogues.
"If Laicanel and Aram Danforth comply with an emergency arrest, that is fine. If they do not obey, kill them."
The comrades nodded in silence.
Vimherik Bell was thinking something similar. Vimherik was a brown, sun-tanned knight serving the Skyner family. He organized a unit of only elites in Bist City and rode his horse toward Maslow City.
"I shall aid Haider-sama, the next head of the Skyner family, who bestowed favors upon me!" Vimherik had said upon departure. "Each of you, be prepared for death."
In other words, they were a suicide squad intending to storm Ganlord Castle and take Laicanel's head.
The fact that most of this suicide squad had tucked a last will and testament into their bosoms showed they were sane. Or perhaps, precisely because they were not sane, they were prepared for death.
If Laicanel were to learn of this situation...
Hm?
Laicanel would have smiled at Haider.
Justice always makes people strange.
Zeal Androsh's cunning plot and Vimherik's loyalty ultimately bore no fruit.
In particular, the assassination group led by Zeal had almost made it. While pressing daggers to the throats of the guards stationed in the corridor and threatening them into silence, they had approached the very vicinity of the room where Laicanel and Haider were.
Then, a shout reached them.
Maslow City was saying something. It sounded as if they were screaming. The voices were in unison. The citizens were in an uproar.
Zeal raised one hand, stopped, and tried to make out the voices.
"...Lucy! ...Lucy! ...Lucy!"
Zeal Androsh looked at his comrades in surprise.
He immediately signaled with his eyes to release the guards. Although the guards showed signs of agitation,
"It's a drill,"
Zeal insisted, silencing the guards.
Meanwhile, the situation outside was not calming down but increasing in intensity.
Zeal went alone to the room where Haider and the others were discussing. He opened the door without knocking.
—Lucy! Lucy! Waaaaah!
Voices that seemed to shake the sky echoed against the room's ceiling.
Three men stood by the window. They were looking outside with their backs to Zeal. Zeal Androsh also lined up beside them and looked down at Maslow City, which had been scarred by great fires.
It was a crowd so large one would doubt that so many people lived in this city. A laughing crowd. A crowd screaming in excitement.
No matter the festival, no matter the personal celebration, people do not frolic to this extent. The people were screaming and doing little dances. They were jumping slightly, like four-year-old children. It was not a disordered excitement; there were parts where they were in sync. For example, fists thrusting toward the heavens. Or chanted calls. Lucy, Lucy...
They were all looking up at Ganlord Castle.
Everyone had mistakenly believed that the Princess was at Ganlord Castle. It was learned later that, at this point, it was merely that a rumor had spread saying "Her Highness Luchentin is coming." In reality, Her Highness had come very close to Maslow City, but had not yet arrived.
Zeal felt an emotion so intense he could hardly breathe.
He could not explain why he wanted to cry so much. Likely, it was the joyful faces of the people. So many eastern faces. Those faces felt as if they were clogging his throat. Zeal could not feel that some kind of victory had been won. There was something in the people's joy different from achievement. There was certainly an emotion that could not be explained as the mere fulfillment of a long-cherished desire.
It was something more violent.
An emotion as thick as blood, like a reunion with a parent separated long ago, was beginning to awaken.
Laicanel and Aram watched the citizens' exaltation with stunned expressions. It was a tremendous roar, as if the castle were about to collapse. They might have been appalled by the wretched state of the east. Yet, they also looked flustered.
"What do we do?" Laicanel said.
"I don't know. What are we doing?" Aram said something that wasn't an answer.
"What do we do, what should we do?"
"Why are you asking me? What shall we do?"
"Anyway, let's reach some conclusion regarding the chain of command. We can't have an audience with the Commander without a proposal, Haider?"
Haider did not answer Laicanel's words. He was wiping tears with his sleeve. There was no doubt that Haider was feeling the same thing as Zeal's emotion.
The citizens and the eastern soldiers did not disperse even when night fell.
The shouting of the crowd ceased. They were quietly waiting for Princess Lucy's appearance. Although Zeal, Haider, Laicanel, and Aram did not leave the window, they each ate and drank. A reliable report that Princess Lucy was coming finally arrived via messenger.
However, what was with the people looking down from the window? They didn't even know for sure if a princess of the royal family was coming. Yet they waited there without eating or drinking. Their sense of expectation was too great. There was a possibility that the crowd could turn into a mob at some trigger.
To deal with that possibility, Laicanel ordered the Royal Army to surround the crowd. The Royal Army lit bonfires, illuminating the castle's front courtyard.
Soon, Princess Lucy arrived.
She appeared as an ill-mannered group that disrupted the crowd—who had been maintaining order to secure space—and tried to push forward almost by force.
The ones guarding the Princess's surroundings were Vimherik's unit. The unit dispatched by Vimherik Bell had unexpectedly encountered the Commander's cavalry and had set aside their original purpose to accompany her.
They pushed through the crowd and guided Princess Lucy to the walkway of the outer wall.
The crowd began to buzz. It was dark and they could not see well. A beautiful, clear woman's voice rang out like a flash of light.
"O East, O East."
The voice filled the dark front courtyard and enveloped the people.
Soon, bonfires were lit in the candelabras of the wall walkway. A woman wearing a cloak and soldiers' clothing was illuminated, standing with a flag, looking somewhat tired. She was a young girl. Entrusting that flag to someone nearby, the young woman began to speak with a voice that reached far.
"May blessings be upon this land that has welcomed me, upon the East."
Zeal Androsh had never had an audience with the princess of Siddim until now. He had wanted to see her renowned beauty, but unfortunately, the princess had her back to the main hall where Zeal and the others were, facing the people.
The crowd fell silent as if water had been poured over them. The air was tense.
The princess's speech was not a long one.
"I speak to you as a daughter of the royal family. I shall bring neither compensation nor consolation to the hatred toward a certain specific lineage that is said to pervade this land."
Voices of disappointment rose from here and there.
When Zeal looked sideways, Laicanel Thora had a smile on his face.
"If you desire it, His Majesty shall likely do so. I may wish for the blessings of this land, but I shall not celebrate this land. Those are things the Church should do above your heads, which hold the Tenshu. Then, for what has this daughter come?"
The princess fell silent.
The crowd, which had seemed dissatisfied, regained a silence filled with expectation.
"It is to bring justice to this land!"
Princess Lucy spoke decisively.
Laicanel crossed his arms and shook his head.
"O East, people who pray, people who fight, people who till. Listen! Why did the first King of Siddim grant this beautiful land to you! It was because your sincere hearts and loyalty—devout, diligent, and brave—communed with the royal family. The royal family has indeed never forgotten that, even until now! And what of you!"
A great cheer returned.
"Listen, O East! You were honest and clumsy. There may have been times when you were late to act. But I dare say, honesty surpasses cleverness. The clever ones will say: Look at reality. Look, the Kosa army is powerful. Geraha Wolf is a terrifying master of war. What happened to Sedias Thora? Look at reality. Compromise with reality. Will flowery words change reality? So the wise people will whisper.
We—you of the East and the royal family, bound by a foolish and stubborn bond—shall not lend an ear to those whispers! For we know that the ideal of justice will eventually strike down reality and completely transform the scene before our eyes!
I am here to renew that justice with you. I am here to confirm with you that only justice can move reality forward!"
Like a tide, the cheers rose heavily from the crowd and assaulted Princess Lucy. The cheers became surging waves that seemed to crash against the walls of Ganlord Castle's main hall and shatter. It was a scream of "Waaaaah." People were stomping their boots. They were stepping in time to some rhythm. Lucy, Lucy, Lucy!
"Now is the time we awaken. I do not intend to exploit the feelings you harbor. A member of the royal family should never use the people as an excuse at any time. However, I say this because I believe it is unfair not to let you know what I shall state next. Listen, O East. The West has already awakened. What about you? Will you follow this flag!"
—Lucy! Lucy! Lucy Alish!
"Overcoming any hardship, any tragedy!"
—Lucy! Lucy!
"Very well! The relationship between the royal family and the East since the founding of the nation is hereby renewed and shall be carved into history. I declare here, in this war, I shall destroy Geraha Wolf and his world. We are Siddimians!"
The explosive cheers became a wind that seemed to flutter the flag, the cloak, and the princess's hair.
Princess Lucy did not indulge in the afterglow of those voices; with a detachment that seemed almost heartless, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the darkness.
In response, Laicanel left the window. He left the room. After staring at Haider's profile, Aram Danforth followed Laicanel out of the room.
Haider was sobbing.
"Let's go too. We have to welcome her,"
Zeal said, intending to be considerate.
"Yes..." Haider was wiping his tears. "Zeal... with this, we can win. With this... the east was saved at the very last moment."
Zeal nodded. Haider had likely felt as if he were carrying the east all alone.
However, he thought that they must not be satisfied with this. Far from anything being over, it had not even begun.
Moz Wolf, around this time, was besieging Malfa City while confronting the Western Army in Aver City. He received a report of new information from the Southern staff officer, Hazab.
According to Hazab, enemy soldiers hiding in the wheat fields spreading around Malfa City had been discovered frequently over the last few days.
"Deserters?" Moz asked.
It was an early morning that had grown considerably cold, and Moz had just started a fire in the furnace inside the tent. Having spent many years with his father, Zuft Wolf, and remaining unmarried, Moz was the type who felt more at ease moving briskly and taking care of things himself.
"As you say, at first I thought they were deserters," Hazab said. "Because that is what they answered when captured and interrogated."
They seemed to have been hiding in the wheat ears, and they did not seem to be battlefield intelligence. Capturing them was a burden, so at first, their weapons were stripped, they were made to swear not to be hostile, and then they were released with "Go back to your hometown."
"However, similar deserters were found one after another."
In every case, they were consistently in groups of five.
"Military action, then?"
Moz tilted his head. Did it mean they were bringing small numbers of soldiers closer to this side bit by bit? It was an oddly petty story.
"That is, quite possibly—"
Hazab had squeezed the captured soldiers a bit. According to what they confessed, it seemed certain they had been hiding in the wheat fields under orders. Yet they were not coordinating with other platoons. The orders the platoons received were apparently to infiltrate, wait for night, and approach the enemy as closely as possible.
"What does that mean?"
"It seems the enemy intends to carry out a night attack."
Hmph. Moz snorted.
The difficult part of a night attack is command and control. One must fight in a darkness where nothing can be seen. Forget command; even if the eyes adjust, even marching is difficult. Soldiers all trip, fall behind, make noise, get separated, and get lost.
If so, it seemed their philosophy was that they shouldn't try to control them from the start.
Something like deploying platoons in small numbers to hide and expecting individual achievements.
That is not an operation. It is utterly irresponsible, was Moz's thought.
"Are you searching the wheat fields?"
"We are, but they are quite vast."
"Burn them, the wheat fields,"
Moz said. He thought that if things went poorly, the enemy might burn the fields first and subject this side to a fire attack. However, it had been rainy lately, so they might not burn much.
"But the wheat around here is fodder for our soldiers."
"Procure it elsewhere. I don't know for sure, but it's still too early for harvest, isn't it?"
"Can't you tell by looking? It's almost time."
Moz didn't even know if wheat was a grass or a vegetable. "There is no need to burn everything. Burn or mow the areas that could be a threat to us to widen the gap."
"Yes, sir."
The wheat ears burned, sending up billowing smoke. As Moz predicted, perhaps due to the moisture, it did not spread violently. Even so, it should have narrowed the enemy soldiers' hiding places to some extent.
It seemed those who were panicked by this smoke were the ones. Just as Hazab said, the enemy truly launched a night attack.
Despite having increased sentries, increased lights, and been sufficiently vigilant, the Kosa camp was somewhat flustered.
What came out of the night darkness were disjointed, haphazard attacks. There were some tents that had fire arrows shot into them. However, they had not been invaded by a large army. It was an attack like harassment.
It was dark and the enemy could not be seen. Moreover, the enemy would flee immediately after shooting arrows.
Even when enemy soldiers were cut down, their number was four or five at most.
—Where is the main force?
Everyone thought.
Searching for the enemy during the night was too dangerous. It would be better for each unit to solidify their defensive positions and wait for morning. Moz ordered as such. The damage was minor, and there was no way for confusion to arise.
If there was only one surprising thing about this night, it was that the city gates of Malfa City opened.
—They've come!
That was it. This was what he had been waiting for.
At the same time, there was a report from a messenger. The Western Army in Aver City had entered combat with the Kosa camp they were facing. The enemy had moved.
Moz immediately entered the command post of the besieging army from the encampment. The Great King had left Huchi Bas for Moz.
"What is the situation?"
The bearded Huchi had a grim expression.
"It's no good. As the Great King said, it seems we were read."
The besieging army moved according to the operation they had planned in advance.
Like chasing a flock of sheep, they would lure the enemy toward the city walls and block their escape. They would create a situation where the only destination was to return inside the city. There had to be a moment when Malfa City would open its gates again to accommodate the soldiers it had sent out.
Those gates did not open.
"The garrison forces that came out of the castle seem to be lying low at the base of the city walls, forming a circle with shields raised."
Just as it was with Attaik City, Malfa City was also surrounded by a wide moat. It was a water-filled moat, making capture difficult.
Among the enemy soldiers who had sallied out of the castle, a group of heavy infantry and cavalry were solidifying their defense beyond that moat. They had hidden beyond the barrage of arrows being actively shot by the enemy archers on the wall walkway.
"The walkway archers seem to be skilled. But since it is night, if we extinguish our lights, we can sneak up to the other side of the moat."
"Very well. Let's apply thorough pressure. What happened to the other garrison forces?"
"They fled toward the north. Our cavalry is pursuing them."
"Hmm."
Moz could not read the enemy's intention.
That was likely the main cause; as time passed, his anxiety grew.
The reason he didn't know the enemy's objective was a lack of information. After waiting for the sky to brighten, Moz dispatched reconnaissance teams to probe the situation in various directions.
The reports brought back did not resolve Moz's feeling of anxiety.
"The Western Army is not here. No sign of allies can be seen."
"Not seen? Are you saying they vanished?"
"Probably—" the scout hesitated. "Probably, the enemy has dispersed widely, and we have been scattered in response."
Even hearing that, Moz did not quite understand what the enemy wanted to do.
Soon, dawn broke.
To confirm the situation with his own eyes, Moz set out on horseback with guards.
Assuming the enemy had dispersed, if they were to gather again, it should be near the Malfa besieging army. The battlefield was quiet, without sound, without corpses, and without combat. There were no enemy soldiers. The allied soldiers, obeying what Moz had ordered the previous night, were guarding the surroundings in defensive positions.
There was not even a trace of the enemy.
Moz Wolf stood in enemy territory, feeling a loneliness as if he had been abandoned by the whole world.