Chapter 96 - 8-10
Two armies glare at one another.
Just as the Great King of Kosa, Geraha Wolf, was secretly moving his troops toward the royal capital, it seemed the enemy Siddim army was also secretly moving troops behind the scenes.
The movement was suspicious.
"It appears they are moving troops back to the east," Pusiteto, the Tawaru vice-commander, said while tilting his head.
It was early morning at Geraha's tent, located near the southern edge of the Brazm Plains.
Geraha felt an indefinable, unpleasant sensation.
"You mean they are returning troops to Ganlord?"
"It seems so."
—How is that possible?
The Kosa army was right in front of them. They were unfolding a stratagem to keep the enemy pinned down here while stealthily eyeing the royal capital. Even if the enemy hadn't noticed that, it should be obvious enough that the capital was their objective.
What lay to the east?
The first thing that came to mind were the Kosa bases established around the Twin Forts.
If the enemy army reclaimed those, Geraha and his men would lose their way home. Supplies would be cut off. The Kosa army would be isolated and left to wither away.
The enemy had once attempted a general offensive to retake the Twin Forts. And they had failed. It would be the same no matter how many times they tried. Even if they stormed the Twin Forts again, Geraha and his men were outside the forts. If Geraha took the enemy's rear, the enemy would have no choice but to retreat for a second time—no, if there were a next time, Geraha would not permit a retreat.
Wasn't Brazm chosen with that understanding?
Geraha evaluated that the selection of this battlefield was clever, even for an enemy.
The plains known as the Fields of Brazm seemed spacious and advantageous to them at first glance. In reality, the terrain had significant undulations and the area was not that large. It was difficult for the Kosa people to maneuver. The high ground, which was advantageous for battle, had been seized by the enemy in advance.
"Abandoning that for Ganlord? That's practically admitting defeat."
Geraha pressed closer to Pusiteto as if accusing him.
Pusiteto crossed his thick arms and twisted his neck.
—That can't be right.
Geraha wanted to say it. He wanted to say, It's the royal capital. Right now, they were heading toward the heart of your lands with a razor-sharp blade, positioned to lick the wound.
Roughly speaking, there were two roads from the Fields of Brazm to the royal capital: the northern route and the southern route.
Geraha's scouts were currently galloping along the southern route to explore for a safe path.
If that were the case, the enemy Siddim army should be heading toward the royal capital via the northern route. In terms of direction, that would be west. They should be circling around to the west to thwart Geraha's intentions.
If they did that, the battlefield would finally open up. They could race vertically and horizontally via the southern and northern routes. They could perform the maneuvers characteristic of the Kosa people. Geraha thought that he hated fighting in a place like the Fields of Brazm, which felt like some eastern miniature garden. It was selfish, but wasn't imposing one's will exactly what war was about?
The fact that the enemy wasn't moving according to his wishes wasn't the only thing irritating Geraha.
If it had been the previous enemy army, and they were moving troops in the rear, they surely would have moved west. The previous enemy had been reckless. They had clung on desperately. To move troops east in this situation... this was...
—Composure.
The enemy army, influenced by some factor, had expanded their options. Based on some conviction, they had increased their degree of freedom. Otherwise, they could not have executed such a ridiculous move as withdrawing troops to the east.
There was something Geraha didn't know.
"Or perhaps,"
Hearing Geraha mutter, Pusiteto spoke.
"It might not be such a difficult matter. Hazab."
Pusiteto looked back toward the entrance of the tent. Hazab shuffled closer on his knees.
"Once, Mozu-sama said that the Siddim army might not be a monolith."
"What do you mean?"
Hazab explained the knowledge he had gained from interrogating prisoners. He said there was a feud between the east and the west.
"In other words, an internal quarrel?" Geraha said after hearing the story. "The army in front of us consists of the eastern army and the King's army. But those two armies don't get along very well, is that it?"
"Yes. In fact, I suspect that the ones secretly moving toward Ganlord are the eastern army."
"The eastern army... are they abandoning the royal family?"
"That is a possibility," Hazab said with a troubled face.
Geraha looked at Pusiteto. Pusiteto gave a small nod.
"Very well, Hazab. You shall fill the void left by Mozu-ni."
This was a plan he had been discussing with Pusiteto for some time.
"What... did you say?"
"Mozu-ni handled the intelligence of this country single-handedly and even managed the analysis of information. You should be able to do the same."
Hazab, a southerner, stared at Geraha with wide eyes for a while.
Perhaps suddenly feeling he was being rude, he bowed his head.
"I am deeply honored. I, Hazab, shall serve with my life on the line."
According to Hazab, he had already screened the prisoners for men who looked promising as spies.
"First, I want to know the defenses of Malfa Castle," Geraha ordered. "And Mozu-ni's whereabouts; do not forget that I trust Mozu-ni as a blood relative. —Also, I want to know the situation in the west."
"The west?"
Hazab looked up.
"Yes. I absolutely want to know how much leeway there is in the western defenses."
Geraha truly felt an abnormality in the situation.
"Think about it," Geraha explained. "There is distance between Ganlord and Malfa. The people most skilled at handling distance are undoubtedly us. The Kosa. I've fought the Siddim people just a bit, and one thing I'm certain of: they are slow. Fatally slow."
Suppose the enemy's deployment was split into three.
The garrison of Malfa City, the King's army at Brazm, and the eastern army at Ganlord.
The spaces between these three are empty. One can maneuver freely. The enemy is split into three points and isolated.
The enemy must be well aware of their own slowness. Despite that, they are showing the composure to divide their troops.
"Could it be that, so to speak, they have a card hidden?"
For example, hiding one army in the west. Using that army to attack the Kosa army that had deployed a siege around the royal capital.
It would be troublesome if such a thing were possible.
"Are they perhaps... waiting for the snow?" Hazab said, placing a hand on his chin.
"Hm?"
Both Geraha and Pusiteto stared at Hazab.
If it was snow, it fell in Kandasyata as well. Hazab, a southerner, was more knowledgeable about it. Winter in Kandasyata was a hell where the north wind howled. Though all Kosa people moved their grazing lands to the south.
Geraha was startled. "Does it pile up? A great deal?"
"Well, that... but it is a country called the North, after all."
Geraha exchanged looks with Pusiteto.
Geraha was shocked that they didn't even know something of that sort.
A tall man with long, dangling limbs came to Geraha's tent.
—He's got a strange face.
Without considering his own face, Geraha thought. It was a long face. It widened toward the chin, looking just like an eggplant. The two men acting as guards released the bindings on his wrists. The prisoner immediately stroked that eggplant-like chin and said something in a foreign language.
"He says his name is Udoh Renne," the interpreter Pashke said.
Udoh Renne began to speak even though he hadn't been asked anything. Geraha stopped Pashke from reprimanding him.
"Fine, fine, let him speak."
"He says that greatness can be recognized just by looking. And that you look like you are great."
—What is this guy? Making fun of my face already?
This was no time to be impressed by Udoh's face. When it came to having a strange face, Geraha allowed no rivals.
"Tell him that he also has quite a great face."
"He says the face is irrelevant," Pashke translated Udoh's words. "He is talking about the aura."
"Tell him I didn't call him here to talk about that."
"He says he merely stated it as a greeting."
"How much snow piles up?"
"He says it varies by region."
"Tell him to speak in detail."
The man named Udoh spoke in detail about the snowfall. First, he said that statistics on snowfall were almost non-existent. According to records, there were years where it was said to pile up to twice a person's height, and in Udoh's own memory, he recalled years where it piled up to his current height.
However, in an average year, it seemed that at most it reached—or barely failed to reach—the waist of an adult male.
"No, that's quite a lot of snow," Geraha said.
—Don't jump to conclusions.
As if to say this, Udoh Renne turned his palm toward him.
"He says it differs by region," Pashke said.
In other words, even within Siddim, on the coasts near the inland sea, the snowfall only covered the ankles at most. Udoh said that it piled up most of all along the mountains.
"You're knowledgeable. Why are you so knowledgeable?"
"He says it is knowledge gained from old legends and his own research."
"Ask him about Malfa City."
With a nonchalant face, Geraha observed the eggplant-like face.
—It will fall.
Udoh also had a nonchalant face.
According to Udoh's own classification, Malfa City belonged to the central-middle region. According to the research Udoh had studied with interest, the central region tended to have little snowfall. However, Malfa City alone seemed to be an exception with heavy snowfall.
"He says it piles up to above the knee."
—Deep snow.
Geraha covered his mouth with his palm and thought.
"Threaten him and ask if he's lying."
"He says that as a warrior, he does not lie. He says he has answered with a lie only once since coming here."
"What's this 'only once' about? Ask in detail."
Pashke spoke with Udoh in the Siddim language for a while.
Udoh was letting out a bright laugh and talking about something.
"It seems this man is a noble, and he was asked by Hazab-sama, 'Who can be called the representative of your generation?'"
"Hmm."
"Udoh did not give a name, but he replied that that man was their general. However, in reality, that man's life, death, and whereabouts are unknown."
Geraha thought it was a rambling story. "The name of that man?"
"He says it is Yugis Necrat."
He heard the sound of someone catching their breath behind him.
When he turned around, Pusiteto had stepped forward with his small eyes wide.
"Could you say that name once more?"
Pashke said something to Udoh. The long-faced man looked at Pusiteto and opened his mouth.
"Yugis Necrat."
"This is surprising," Pusiteto said. "Do you remember the story that in Attaik, there was a man who kicked the head of the Tawaru King Kushitante?"
Geraha nodded.
"That man's name was precisely Yugis Necrat."
This was the first time Geraha Wolf had heard that name.
Geraha intuitively felt that the mystery of why the Siddim eastern army suddenly showed composure might correspond with that name, but it was merely an intuition. According to Udoh, that man's life or death was unknown.
"For now, I'll have Hazab investigate that name."
Geraha said this and had the prisoner dismissed.
The snowfall was more important than a missing man.
—Though, there's no point in overthinking it.
Geraha thought. It was better not to worry too much. If there was that much snow, it wouldn't just be a disadvantage for them. The enemy wouldn't be able to move either. The conditions were the same.
Led by a southern man who managed the prisoners, Udoh Renne left the Great King's tent. Immediately, ropes were tied around his wrists and iron shackles were placed on his ankles. He was forced to walk in that state.
The Great King's tent was located near the southern edge of Brazm, and there was quite a distance to the Twin Forts where the prisoners were housed.
Udoh walked, his wrists tied to a rope extending from the saddle of the horse ridden by the southerner. It was difficult to walk because of the shackles. It was harsh treatment, but Udoh was partly to blame for this. Udoh had frequently picked fights with southerners and Kosa people.
Because a southerner named Hazab recognized him as a valuable source of information, Udoh had avoided being killed.
The first impression Udoh had of the Kosa people was blackness. Their skin was dark, and their hair was pitch black. Their clothes were darkish, and their horses' coats looked deep in color. He hadn't liked them at first, but that was only at the beginning.
After becoming a prisoner, he realized. The Kosa people were always laughing, wahaha, wahaha. They showed off unnervingly white teeth. They were boisterous. Although many had slender bodies, they all hid supple strength in their backs.
They preferred mutton, and surprisingly, they seemed to love singing. Some even plucked instruments.
—I'll probably go to various countries astride a horse, eh.
No matter where he went, they would surely be laughing, wahaha, wahaha.
It wasn't that Udoh had grown fond of the Kosa people. Whether they invaded while sulking and grumpy or invaded while laughing boisterously, it was ultimately the same invasion. If that were the case, Udoh thought the boisterous way was better. Those with dark secrets wouldn't laugh like that.
Their treatment of prisoners was equivalent to the treatment of livestock. It wasn't that the treatment was bad. They treated them like assets of a certain value. Quiet prisoners were treated gently, and prisoners with a habit of raging were treated harshly. Udoh, in short, was the latter.
The area around the Twin Forts was already the Kosa people's sphere of activity. They had already let sheep out to graze.
Udoh casually looked around.
Then, there he was. A man with a round face—as Udoh had secretly named him—who looked like a Siddim person. Reddish beard and hair circled his outline, making him look like a sunflower.
Despite looking like a Siddim person, the round-faced man was walking freely around the Kosa base without any guards. Usually, he had a bundle of papers tucked under his arm.
This was the third time he had seen him today.
Every time he saw him, Udoh decided to rage.
Udoh stopped his feet and pulled the rope on his wrists. Udoh, with his slippery, long torso, stored monstrous strength in that torso. The southerner's horse stopped nimbly and shook its hindquarters. It disliked Udoh's resistance.
"I told ya, I ain't a beast of burden!" Udoh yelled. "Ya get it? I ain't! A beast!"
Udoh desperately resisted the horse's movements.
The southerner riding the horse said something in a language Udoh didn't understand.
Pulling the reins and dismounting from the saddle, he took the long stick he wore at his waist.
The prisoner guards all carried these sticks. They were for striking prisoners who wouldn't behave. These hurt. They struck with a lack of hesitation that suggested as long as they didn't kill, it didn't matter if they crippled the prisoner.
Udoh was poked in the chest and stomach and couldn't help but fall to his knees. To avoid having his arms and legs broken, he tucked them under his torso like a turtle and further protected his vital head. He was struck on the back. He was struck on the buttocks. He was struck on the shoulder.
Udoh didn't actually want to resist. He knew he would suffer.
However, Udoh wanted the round-faced man to notice him. The round-faced man was walking freely through the enemy camp. If he could become an acquaintance, he would surely be able to hear useful information.
The previous two times, the round-faced man had only watched Udoh being beaten with a flustered expression.
But this time was different. He hovered over Udoh and protected him.
The round-faced man said something in a sharp voice. It was a foreign language. It didn't seem to be the Kosa language. It was likely a southern tongue. After a short conversation with the southern guard, the round-faced man spoke.
"You must not resist. I beg of you."
Udoh wanted to speak. However, the pain was too strong for words to come out.
"Can you stand? It must be painful, but please stand."
"Ugh."
Udoh eventually stood up and whispered his name to the round-faced man.
"Udoh Renne."
"Matinee, Ludo Matinee."
Udoh nodded.
He was pulled strongly by the southern guard. Just like that, he walked with staggering steps into the Twin Forts.
In the building within the fort where prisoners slept huddled together, Udoh lay down. When night came, he might close his eyes, but he didn't sleep. Waiting for the moment at dawn when the surroundings were silent, Udoh slipped his fingers into his chest.
He took out a scrap of paper that Matinee had secretly inserted and opened it.
It was a drawing. It was a map.
The roads through the plains nations and the dark forest, and the detailed enemy camp facilities around the Twin Forts. Udoh looked at the drawing greedily and read the explanations in small letters. This was the first time that learning letters in the royal capital had been this useful.
After gaining confidence that he had perfectly memorized the drawing and text, Udoh suddenly looked at the back.
There, a person's face was drawn. He almost let out a cry because the face resembled Yugis so much. The accompanying note read:
'This person knows much of the Kosa. Siddim person, Yugis Necrat.'
Udoh bit the inside of his cheek. He had almost laughed. Why did Matinee know about Yugis? That absurdity stimulated Udoh's sense of the comical. Udoh felt as if he had met Yugis for the first time in a long while. It was drawn very well, and throwing it away felt like an unthinkable sin.
However, naive expectations were not permitted.
Udoh rolled the paper, put it in his mouth, and moistened it with saliva.
—Did he really die, I wonder?
Sucking on the paper like a candy, Udoh thought. The deputy of the enemy general had seemed surprised to hear Yugis's name. Cloden had once told Udoh that Yugis had probably died, but...
—There might still be a sprout left in Siddim.
Udoh swallowed the paper and decided to escape.
'That idiot Yugis!'
Cloden Danforth had said this at the northern edge of the Brazm Plains.
'He was alive, that bastard was alive!'
Cloden, who was supposed to be in bed with a cold, had burst into Haider Skyner's tent and fallen to his knees on the bedding. His back heaved as he wheezed through his throat.
Zeal Androsh was also in the tent.
'You're an idiot,' Zeal said, stroking Cloden's back. 'We've been saying all along that the bastard was alive, right?'
'Y-y-you're the idiots. Read this.'
Haider read carefully the letter from Godly Curier that Cloden had presented.
—Yugis apparently intends to incite the west and organize an army.
That was how Haider read it.
—I wonder if it will work.
For example, something like the King's army was only possible because there was a darling of the era named Sedias Thora. Having experienced war, Haider was finally able to understand Sedias's greatness. To have a man like Sedias Thora appear in Siddim again, one would have to wait another hundred years.
Yugis did not make people fear him as much as Sedias did. Nor was he a man loved like Geraha Wolf.
—Well, even so.
Yugis said he would do it. Then, he would do it, Haider thought simply.
'Let us renew the composition of the eastern forces.'
Haider declared on the spot.
Looking over, he saw Zeal putting Cloden to sleep.
Zeal put a forefinger to his lips with a troubled face. It seemed Cloden's fever had returned. Haider hurriedly went to fetch water.
If, hypothetically, a Western Army were to appear and be positioned to glare at the royal capital.
What would this mean for the Kosa army?
It would be a state where the enemy is always waiting ahead. Even if they reached the royal capital, the enemy would be waiting further beyond.
The eastern army and the King's army deployed in the east would no longer need to stand in front of the enemy.
They could focus on taking the enemy's rear. Their roles would become clear.
"How about splitting into two: the King's army and the eastern army?"
Visiting the commander-in-chief, Glen Hilboro, Haider made a private proposal.
Since the enemy's movement speed was extraordinary, there was naturally a risk of being defeated piecemeal. However, if troops were placed in the east, the risk of their own rear being taken would be gone for the time being.
If the eastern troops were thickened, the enemy at the Twin Forts would be pinned in place.
Surprisingly, General Hilboro showed interest.
"Actually, it seems Laicanel Thora has entered Delroy."
The general seemed to have feelers in the west.
"Does that mean they are gathering a Third Army?"
"It's possible. The Thora family seems to be putting in a serious effort."
General Hilboro laughed coldly.
It was a cold laugh that Haider could understand. Even if Laicanel Thora returned home, Haider also wondered if the western lords would put out troops again. In the west, where they had enemies all around, thinning the defenses would be suicide. There was the risk of invasion from foreign countries, but before that, they would likely be attacked by the neighboring territory that was supposed to be an ally. Moreover, it was a Thora family without Sedias Thora. Even if they put out troops, wouldn't it just be for show?
But, perhaps. Yugis might be involved in Laicanel's movements. No, he must be, Haider thought.
If so, a Western Army would likely form.
At this time too, Haider reached a conclusion easily.
"There is something I wish to discuss." Haider thought it would be better to inform him about Yugis at this point.
"Necrat?" Glen Hilboro made a displeased face.
"Yes."
—Sedias Thora.
He must have ordered the King's army to arrest and execute Yugis as soon as he was discovered. Haider pleaded that he wanted that order immediately suspended. The Thora family had destroyed the Gilmond family and destroyed the Anavis family. If they destroyed the Necrat family on top of that, an irreparable rift would run through Siddim, dividing east and west.
"Can that man be trusted?"
"He can. If Yugis is there, the Western Army will be established."
"I don't agree with that, but—" The general showed some magnanimity. "Very well. I shall consider lifting the order for the arrest of Yugis Necrat. However, if anything happens, the responsibility will fall on you as well."
"I will keep that in mind. If Yugis causes an incident, I will bear the same crime as he."
Haider answered immediately. That was how highly he valued Yugis.
"And also—" The general frowned. "Villages centered around Flink Village, near the center, were burned. We are short-handed. Can anything be done through a call to Helderica Dravar of Saranti and the east?"
"Is the Baroness of Saranti still not moving?"
"She seems to be under the delusion that her status has risen. She doesn't even send a written reply to the King's army's call."
"We need her to move under the banner of the King's army."
"Exactly."
Haider thought that someone must be sent to persuade her.
Helderica's son, Raslaf Dravar, was a comrade from the time of the Fourth Army. He was not a man who was impossible to talk to.
"There is a man named Cloden Danforth under Ramirez's command. Let us ask him to be the messenger."
"Very well. I will prepare the instructions by tonight. Come and get them."
"Understood. Leave Saranti to me. Regarding the Yugis matter—"
"I get it, I get it."
Shooed away like a fly, Haider left the general's tent.
His heart was light.
If he moved troops to the east, would Geraha Wolf sneer and advance his troops to the royal capital? Or would he hold his head in his hands? The former was desirable. He wanted him to charge headlong toward the royal capital. But it wouldn't be that simple.
—The enemy general will worry.
If a man who plotted the establishment of a World Empire worried, what conclusion would he reach?
—Still, he should advance.
If he were to retreat to the Twin Forts here, he surely could not maintain a World Empire.
Just as Haider Skyner thought, Geraha intended to advance.
A map of the surroundings of the royal capital, created by Hazab summarizing the interrogations of prisoners, had been delivered. This gave Geraha momentum.
"Well done, well done. Hazab, you've done well."
Geraha did a little dance with a lightness that was hard to imagine from his bulk.
He gathered his staff and looked closely at the map together with Kirikiri, the King of the Mukuri people.
"Geh-heh-heh. Great King, with this, we can survive the winter."
"My arm is itching, Kirikiri-don."
Midheim, Karnain, Argis, Delacoon.
Besides the cities, countless villages were dotted about.
The invaders licked their lips and pressed their foreheads together.
Even so, the size of Malfa City was something. It probably wasn't as large as the giant southern city of Koroi. However, the abnormality of this city was beyond comparison to Koroi. Koroi was a city for commerce that had spread out loosely. It existed for humans.
Malfa was different. It was a giant armed city. The walls were said to be triple, but that was merely saying there were places where they could be counted. The walls were complexly intertwined within the city; they weren't something that could be counted in layers.
There were many gates, and even more towers. They weren't square towers like in Attaik, but round towers.
The castle was also a giant castle. According to Hazab's explanation, Malfa Castle was like a small hill that had been turned into a fortress. It was robust and prickly, possessing a countenance that could be called stubborn and solitary, and it was said that even the King only entered the castle on ceremonial occasions.
Even Geraha, who had never owned a fort, felt he could think of a hundred or two hundred traps to kill enemies who intruded into this city.
"First will be the battle to break the gates, then the battle to seize the towers."
"Do you think we can take them?"
Kirikiri crossed his arms and shook his head.
"However, we should be able to control part of the city and press toward the castle."
The master of Mamukuri looked at the map with the face of a craftsman, without even a "geh-heh-heh" laugh.
Geraha was satisfied.
While considering the initial deployment of troops, Geraha noticed a fort-like structure written near Malfa City.
"What is this village? Is it called Fibril? This is a fort, isn't it?"
"No, this appears to be a religious facility," Hazab explained, shuffling on his knees. "It seems to be a church where nuns reside."
"The Roma Church, eh. Just right. Let's occupy the village and surround this place as well. However, do not lay a hand on it until instructions are given."
He intended to ask the Roma Church to mediate a peace treaty. There was no need to make a bad impression by clumsily attacking it. However, if he surrounded it, he could pressure the church by using them like hostages.
—Everything is in place.
Geraha thought.
Looking around at the gathered staff, they all nodded in their own way.
"Pusiteto, sorry for always leaving the behind-the-scenes work to you."
"It's nothing."
"Draw the enemy's main force here. Act as you see fit according to the flow. However, if you crush them, do it quickly. If we are fast, the east cannot react. I will go to Malfa with the infantry. Everyone, get to your preparations."
The air moved at Geraha's voice. It seemed that lethargy had crept into the camp without them noticing.
—Oh.
A low voice responded, shaking off the lethargy.
"The place where the former Great King Aframa stumbled was precisely this country where we are."
—Oh.
"We shall cross over this country."
—Oh, oh.
The men in the tent looked around at each other's faces. Finding fighting spirit in the faces of their comrades, they further stirred their own fighting spirit. The only ones not joining that circle were the two strange old men who were blending into the darkness in the corner of the tent.
Once the reorganization of the King's army and the eastern army that had participated in the King's army was decided, Haider was busy for a while constructing supply routes.
Cloden, who had recovered from his cold, nodded with a solemn expression when he heard of his mission to persuade the Baroness of Saranti.
"Indeed, it's more my role than yours."
When Haider told Cloden that he wasn't bad at negotiations,
"But I'm stronger with liquor," Cloden boasted.
It seemed he intended to drink the opponent under the table.
"Well, leave it to me. I'll do as much as I can."
While making a difficult face, Cloden departed full of energy.
Haider galloped to Maslow, the central city of Ganlord, for discussions on accepting troops. Vimherik Bell, a knight of the Skyner family, and Zeal Androsh, along with Lucifont Nera, whom Zeal took as a partner, accompanied him.
"What are your intentions?"
Aram Danforth, the Eastern Governor whom he met for the first time in a while, didn't show a single smile.
It was the office in Ganlord Castle of Maslow.
"Are you telling me to hand over the troops of Maslow and Famana to the King's army?"
Hand over or not, the troops protecting Maslow and Famana were originally reserve troops of the King's army. When he pointed this out,
"You haven't forgotten the matter of Kraff, have you?" Aram struck the desk.
Haider had promised to hand over the eastern territory of Kraff to the Danforth family.
"Of course. However, Governor, if there are no military achievements at some point, the standard for fiefs becomes governance, so it will take time, you know?"
Haider intended to state a fact, but Aram was huffy.
"You're sly."
It wasn't that Aram didn't understand the situation. He just seemed to want to complain. Aram stated various sophistries. Haider listened intently. Haider liked conversations where they stated logic to one another.
Before they knew it, night had fallen, and they continued talking even after finishing dinner. Just then, a castle soldier burst in.
"Fire outbreak!"
"An enemy attack!"
"Unknown!" the castle soldier answered the Eastern Governor.
Haider and Aram rushed to the window with enough force to press their cheeks together. Red-tinted smoke was rising vigorously.
Every single church bell in Maslow City began to ring.
Within Siddim, the east was a culture of forests. Many buildings were wooden.
In fires that occurred in such architectural groups, firefighting became destructive firefighting. They demolished buildings adjacent to the fire scene to prevent the spread.
In order for frail humans to control an uncontrollable flame that burned everything around it with brute-force heat, destructive firefighting could prevent the expansion of damage with considerable precision.
Since it was a city of soldiers with energy to spare, and the initial response was fast, the destruction of buildings was carried out solemnly.
Still, this great fire of the night might go down in history. Haider felt bleak, thinking that the death toll might approach three digits.
"It's arson," Zeal said in a low voice.
Haider, Zeal, and Vimherik had gone out to a street corner and become onlookers.
As Zeal said, the fires seemed to have broken out simultaneously in multiple places.
"You think it's the enemy's doing?" Haider thought he couldn't judge so carelessly.
"No mistake about it. At a time like this?"
If what Zeal said was correct, it meant that agents were in this city.
A tall shadow approached Haider and the others. His footsteps were unsteady.
"Lucifont!" Zeal shouted. "Hey, we were looking for you! Are you okay?"
"Hmph," Lucifont snorted. Lucifont was a slender, handsome man. "I was slightly enticed by the atmosphere of the night city's bustle. I was strolling through the pleasure district and suddenly felt I saw the reflection of fire in the night sky. My intuition worked—"
Lucifont also seemed to have intuitively felt it was arson.
Assuming enemy agents had slipped in, what was the purpose of the arson?
Following his intuition, he said he had run to the prison tower. In other words, it must be an operation to release prisoners and cause chaos in the center of enemy territory.
"Before that, sorry but,"
The dark-skinned Vimherik said.
"Lucifont, can you sit on the ground? You've got something stuck in your back."
"Really! Dammit! No wonder I thought it hurt!"
Haider also confirmed that a weapon like a thin-handled knife was embedded in Lucifont's back.
Vimherik tore Lucifont's clothes and exposed the wound. He pulled out the throwing weapon and used the torn cloth as a bandage to treat him.
"You're okay, the bleeding is minimal. But if it had been slightly off, it would have been bad."
"Kuh, a lapse in vigilance."
To Lucifont, who lowered his face, Zeal said.
"Hey, what happened? You saw something, didn't you?"
"I feel like there was a woman. She came out of the prison tower with prisoners."
"A woman? Was it?" Haider also raised his voice.
"Moreover, I feel like it was a woman I've seen before."
It seemed he had been hit in the back by the weapon that woman threw.
Haider picked up the throwing weapon. It didn't seem to be from Siddim.
"Let's leave it for later," Vimherik said, putting Lucifont's arm around his shoulder. "Haid, Zeal, lend a hand."
The next day passed in chaos, and from around the day after that, the details of the damage reached Haider.
The casualties were over one hundred and fifty people, including children.
At the prison tower where Lucifont had rushed, a fierce battle had unfolded where eight out of twenty guards were killed.
The escape of a man suspected to be one of the enemy generals, Mozu Wolf, and four others from the same cell was confirmed.
"There is no mistake, it was a woman," one of the guards said, corroborating Lucifont's testimony. "She leaped so high she almost hit the ceiling, straddled the neck of my fellow guard Sacco, and like a shoulder-ride, wrapped her legs around Sacco's neck and snapped it. It was an instant. Sacco's face turned completely backward. She killed a man holding a sword with completely bare hands. In the blink of an eye."
Haider and Zeal moved on their own and searched for an artist. Based on the eyewitness testimonies of Lucifont and the guards, they completed a sketch. They took it to the church's scriptorium and requested the creation of a wanted poster.
Haider, Zeal, and Vimherik were all seething with rage.
They would show no mercy, even to a woman.
"Burning, right? Burning at the stake is appropriate."
While visiting Lucifont, Zeal mentioned the method of execution.
The men nodded to each other with dark eyes, as if scorched by the great fire.