I Said Make My Abilities Average! (LN) - Volume 8 - Chapter 63

Chapter 63:

The Fief of Ascham 

Mile’s soul was an amalgamation: the product of two souls that joined together one day three years ago—the souls of ten-year-old Adele and eighteen-year-old Misato Kurihara. However, in truth, Adele and Misato were the same person all along—the same consciousness and the same soul. During the time that she was Adele, Misato was still herself, merely rebooted from nothing, without her memories or faculties of reasoning. 

To put it simply, Adele was the sort of person that Misato might have become had she been born into this world. That was Adele von Ascham. 

Thus, when their spirits were finally brought together, there were zero incompatibilities. They were merely two instances of the same application running on the same operating system, simply with different output results based on varying input data regarding growth and education. In other words, on a software level, they were fundamentally the same. 

And then, those two sets of results had been concatenated. 

As such, neither of the sides had been subsumed. They were one soul, with two sets of memories. That was Mile. 

Therefore, while Misato’s personality was at the forefront—thanks to her portion of the experience having fundamentally more memories—Adele’s personality was represented as well. Along with, of course, her memories. 

Most of the staff at the manor have been replaced with people who knew neither me nor my mother, but even those who were fired are probably still living on our lands. All of those former servants were so kind to me up until Mother and Grandfather died, and until they were forced out… And then, there’s the fief of Ascham, which was looked after by Grandfather, Mother, and all of our ancestors before them, and all of the citizens who live there… 

Though Mile had made the decision to cast her old home aside—to have nothing more to do with it ever again—that was a rational decision that she had made as Misato. Adele’s will, and Adele’s memories, could not be so easily expunged. 

“What do you look so puzzled for? It’s not that complicated!” Reina called to Mile, who was deep in thought, her brow furrowed. “The Albarn Empire is to the south of Brandel, your homeland, but it also comes into contact with this kingdom, Vanolark, and also Tils, Mavis and Pauline’s homeland and the place where we’re all registered as hunters. By traveling west, we came to Vanolark via Brandel, which is to the northwest of Tils. There’s also a route that passes through Albarn, but obviously, most people aren’t interested in taking it, so we avoided it, too.” 

Reina had referred to Tils as “Mavis and Pauline’s homeland” because, as the daughter of a traveling peddler, Reina had no idea where she had been born. Her father had never even given her any hints. 

“Now, when it comes to our return, we obviously won’t be taking the Albarn route, so we’ll be traveling back on the Brandel side of the border. We’ll have to avoid any places that have been touched by the invasion, of course. In order to do that, we need to pick whichever path will get us to Ascham the quickest.” 

As she spoke, Reina indicated a highway on the map that was a short distance from the border. It was a different route from the one by which they had come, which ran a bit farther to the north. Thus, this new route was slightly farther from the border. 

The four agreed with Reina’s suggestion and packed their things away into storage. Yes, it was time for that old standard, the Sonic Speed maneuver… Of course, all they had really packed away were the items that they had to carry by hand, so the move did not fully live up to its name, but their speed improved at least a little bit. This increase in speed was a manifestation of everyone’s desire to move quickly. 

Even if they didn’t rush, they would probably still arrive before the Albarnian forces could reach Ascham. 

In this world, wars took a very long time. One had to accumulate resources and then rally the interim forces (in other words, farmers) to battle, begin training them, and complete all last-minute preparations. Then , even after the actual military operations had begun, the marching and the battles themselves took time. It was common for both sides to end up at standoff for some weeks or to have blockades or sieges that dragged on for months. 

In this case, it was clear that the Empire was probably gunning for a swift victory, but even so, their advance would be crippled by skirmishes, ambushes, traps, and surprise attacks, so the speed of their advance could never be comparable to that of an army on modern-day Earth. 

*** 

Just a few days later, the Crimson Vow were already well within Brandel’s borders. The Ascham fief was nearly on the horizon. 

“That was a huge waste of money!” Pauline groused as they walked. 

While thus far the Crimson Vow had spent every night camping out so as not to waste time, they did now and then swing by the larger towns they passed to gather information. They had made some paid inquiries at numerous Guild branches, but the information from each was more or less the same as what they had heard in the very first town. There was essentially no new information nor any further detail that the employees could offer… Indeed, from the second stop onward, paying for Guild information had been both a waste of money and time. 

Pauline understood the value of information and would have gladly shelled out a half-gold at each guildhall if they had anything new to tell. However, no matter how many days passed and no matter how close they got to their destination, the information was all exactly the same as it had been on the very first day. So, Pauline’s complaints of wasted money were more or less valid. Though one could argue that the “information” they had bought was that there was no new information, but still… 

“We have to assume that either one Guild branch got their hands on the information and then transmitted it to all the other Guild branches, or that whoever initially sold them the report continued moving west, selling it to other branches as they went… In other words, there’s only one source. Are we sure we should trust it…?” Mavis worried. 

Pauline, however, felt more confident. 

“I mean, this is information that the Guild was willing to sell to us, right? I can’t imagine that they would buy any story unless it came from someone with the right credentials. Either they’ve been presented with sufficient evidence, or they have some other reason to deem the information reliable. Plus, they seem fairly informed as to the whole thing.” 

What Pauline said was not incorrect, but Mile could not help but retort mentally, They said things like that on the evening news all the time, but just who are these “informed sources” they’re always referencing? If you don’t reveal who provided you with the information, you may as well be saying, “I heard it from a little old lady down at the tobacco shop…” 

Nevertheless, it was fair to say that the accuracy of the information was not a major concern here. 

If the enemies were invaders from the Empire, pushing into the Kingdom of Brandel with unknown intentions and no formal declaration, then the kingdom could strike back without reservation. Other countries, if asked, would place all the blame on the attackers—the imperial forces. In fact, as they had not issued a formal declaration of war, they were technically an unknown group of armed attackers and could be treated as no better than bandits. Yes, they probably were bandits. That had to be it! 

If the kingdom laid waste to a group like that, no one would care. The ones who would do the smashing could be the kingdom’s own troops, or mercenaries—it didn’t matter which, and it didn’t matter who hired them… 

“Now then, as previously discussed: today we are not hunters who took a request through the Guild but fighters who were hired independently. Therefore, we will not call ourselves ‘hunters’ but ‘mercenaries.’ It’s not that we are misrepresenting ourselves by saying that we are not hunters, but rather that we are operating in the role of hunters who have taken on a job as mercenaries. As such, we aren’t breaking any rules. On the off chance that someone says to us, ‘Hey, aren’t you all hunters?’ we have to tell the truth: that we’re registered as hunters, but right now we’re working as mercenaries.” As they walked, Mile ran through the plan once again. 

The other three gave emphatic nods. They had already discussed this many times on their journey, but this was the final confirmation before they embarked on the real deal. It would have been surprising for anyone to pick this moment for questions or objections. 

“Our party that we have formed as hunters is one thing, but as your leader, I would now like to put together a band of mercenaries. All who wish to be included, please raise your hand.” 

Three hands went up into the air. 

“Thank you very much. Now then, I formally declare the mercenary band, the Order of the Crimson Blood, in operation!” 

And so, they became the Order of the Crimson Vow through and through, cloaked in an ironclad deception. 

Not even Reina, confident as she was, thought that the four of them were capable of getting involved in a war. All she had been thinking was that if they didn’t do something right away, Mile would regret it for the rest of her life. Her intention was to let Mile act as recklessly as she liked but drag her back out before things got too hairy—using force if necessary. 

No one else needs to suffer a lifetime of regret from their own inaction. I know that feeling all too well… Reina thought. 

Mavis, meanwhile, fully intended to save the Ascham lands. If it’s for the sake of Mile, who always believed in my dreams, and who’s saved me again and again, I’d forsake even the gods… 

No one could guess what Pauline was thinking, but a vague smile drifted across her face. 

And as for Mile… 

I can’t just abandon them. Even if it means I’ll lose any chance I had of a happy, peaceful life… 

How could she be thinking such a thing when Misato’s thoughts were at the forefront? Did that mean that her spirit was being poisoned by Adele von Ascham’s childish sense of justice? 

No. By her very nature, Misato Kurihara was the sort of person who would throw herself before a speeding truck to save the life of a little girl she had never even seen before. It was not peculiar in the slightest that she would feel the way she did now. 

If it comes down to the wire, I can announce myself as Adele… Better still, the Servant of the Goddess. I have to save all my people, even if that’s what it takes. And I won’t let a single one of my friends die in the process! 

She was fully and utterly committed to going into battle with just their band of four… 

*** 

“Enemies from the Albarn Empire, huh?” spat Juno, the leader of the Ascham troops stationed nearest the fief’s edge. 

The imperial forces that had invaded so suddenly had already leveled the lands of Count Cesdol, which abutted with the national border. Their arrival on the Ascham lands was imminent. However, Juno did not regard these brigands, who had come barging in without even a formal declaration of war, to be real military troops. They were merely brigands. Such an appellation was more than sufficient for ruffians like them. 

Though the Ascham territory belonged only to a viscount, it boasted far more troops than similar fiefs because it was so near the border. Yet the strength of which they had boasted until just a few years ago had been greatly diminished of late. 

“Damn that bastard son-in-law…” 

Juno was, of course, referring to the man who had married into the Ascham family—the husband of the previous viscount’s only daughter, Mabel. 

After Mabel and her father were mysteriously attacked and killed, there was scarcely a person around who didn’t have their suspicions. However, none were in a position to stop the usurper—a corrupt man whose only clout came from being the descendent of some count somewhere—who had waltzed in with his mistress and illegitimate daughter, slashed the budget for the fief’s military upkeep, and redirected the funds toward his own luxurious lifestyle. As a result of all this, their combat resources had plummeted—manpower, equipment, and training alike. 

Thankfully, all those who had schemed to push Adele out and take over the household—in spite of their utter lack of Ascham blood—had been discovered and brought to justice. In the end, they and their associates served only to wet the guillotine’s blade. Adele, the rightful heir, had vanished for her own safety, but the king himself had personally dispatched a minister to manage the fief until her return. However, although the new minister was trying his darnedest, the fief’s military strength was still nowhere near restored. 

Besides, even at their most powerful, the fief’s troops were still only the forces of a viscount. Even if it were only a fraction of the Empire’s forces that they were up against, there was no way that they could be expected to have the power to repel troops belonging to the army of a large nation. At best, they could only hope to buy themselves a bit of time until reinforcements from the Crown, or from other territories, could arrive. 

In truth, their chances of even getting that far were slim. Theirs was a backwater fief with little to offer, whose ruling family had been first embroiled in a scandal and then eliminated. There was not a lord or king in all the land who would be willing to march their troops out into the fray of a battle where they would certainly take great losses for the Ascham fief. No, they would be seeing neither hide nor hair of reinforcements until the others had rallied all of their defenses together and were prepared for a decisive strike… 

In all likelihood, the place that would become the frontlines of Brandel’s counteroffensive would be somewhere north of here at the forfeit of the Ascham lands. 

Even if that counterstrike should be a success, their forces would have gone to battle not once, but twice, after being devastated by the imperial occupation. Their food and valuables would be plundered, their crops and fields trampled, and their population overflowing with orphans, widows, and casualties of war. At that point, any prospects of the future would be grim. 

Our beloved former lord and Lady Mabel would never forgive me… I made an oath. I swore to them that until my dying breath—no, even beyond that—I would pledge to be a god of vengeance, striking to protect the Ascham lands… 

Indeed, Juno—who had been taken in by the old lord, Adele’s grandfather, and grown from a poor orphan into the head of the fief’s military forces—would lay down his life, his soul, his everything without a moment’s hesitation for the sake of the house of Ascham. 

It was twenty years ago. 

Juno was ten years old, lying in the back alleys of the Ascham capital on the brink of death, when he was offered refuge from a life that was little better than that of a beast or insect. By the lord’s mercy, he was granted the life of a human with honor and purpose. 

Surely, there was no noble in the world who would go out of their way to take in a commoner—a filthy, half-dead orphan, no less—and yet, it had happened. 

He was given a sword, an education, training, and a position as then-twelve-year-old Mabel’s guard…or rather, as her playmate-slash-attendant, regardless of the fact that he was the younger of the pair. 

“Juno, let’s go into the forest and capture some kobolds! I was thinking of raising some as pets!” 

“Ahaha! You fell for it! I tied the grass together right there! Now you have to sit through today’s etiquette lesson for me. See you later!” 

“Juno, I’m going to go take a bath in that stream, so I need you to watch me to make sure I don’t drown or get snatched up by monsters or anything. Don’t take your eyes off me!” 

In all of Juno’s days, there was no job that he completed as fervently—no job as rewarding—as that one. 

For the sake of protecting the Ascham lands and the Ascham family, to whom he owed so very much, Juno toned his body and trained hard every day, until he finally attained his peak: the polished physical form of a warrior. Furthermore, he honed the knowledge necessary to defend Ascham from any enemy attack, whether by force or by more civil methods. 

And yet, he had allowed Mabel and the Viscount to be killed, with no proof with which to cast blame on Mabel’s husband, no matter how suspicious he might have been. Still, Juno was unable to step down from his post, thinking of what might happen should anyone ever try to lay a hand upon Adele, Mabel’s daughter. If she were ever in danger, he would protect her at all costs—even if it meant being branded a traitor and a lord-killer. 

He had allowed Adele to be taken away, once again unable to do a single thing. 

We can’t be certain that Lady Adele has perished. There’s a possibility that she lives on somewhere… 

He tried to reassure himself, but in truth, it was unfathomable. There was nowhere in this world where a defenseless twelve-year-old girl could live safely and happily all on her own. 

The last time that Juno had seen Adele in the flesh was back when her mother and grandfather were still in good health and the girl herself was around eight years old. Just like her mother Mabel, about whom the words “head” and “cloud,” were often uttered in close proximity to one another, Adele was a rather—no, incredibly— absentminded girl. 

Though he was the commander, Juno was still but a soldier, one who would never have much opportunity to speak with his employers’ young daughter. Indeed, even when he had the chance to converse with her mother and grandfather, that did not mean he exchanged words with Adele as well. At most, he was only ever able to glimpse her from afar. 

Juno recalled the day he had been taken into the viscount’s care—the day he had first met Mabel—like it was yesterday. 

“Juno. You have to grow up strong to protect my father, me, and all of the people of our lands, okay?” 

With a great nod, he had given his assent to the young girl’s words, but in the end, he had already failed to uphold two-thirds of that promise. 

Still, I will keep the other part of it, even if it costs me my life! 

There were 300 men in the Ascham forces. They were up against roughly 5,000 from the Empire. 

“Only 5,000? Let’s make ’em regret thinking that a little ragtag band like that is enough to take us on!” 

These final words were spoken not only in Juno’s head but uttered aloud. It was a commander’s duty to assure his troops that conditions were favorable and to instill a sense of confidence in them. 

Of course, practically speaking, there’s no way that we could possibly win while fighting them head-on, and the difference in our numbers is far too great to try and lay siege to them. Our only option is to launch a surprise attack on the enemy headquarters and crush them there… 

If they could take out the commander and other officers in one fell swoop, they might be able to make it work. If they killed the commander alone, one of his successors would just be promoted in his place. However, if they could destroy their entire leadership in one go, that would be a different story. If the enemies lost their ability to effectively mobilize their full forces, as well as anyone who possessed authority, they would have no choice but to withdraw at once. If that happened, then reinforcements were sure to arrive before a second wave of the invasion. 

Just as these thoughts passed through Juno’s mind… 

“We’re under attack!” 

The front lines were suddenly struck. 

“Damn!” 

Now that he thought about it, the idea that smashing the head of a snake would disable the rest of it applied to their side as well. Furthermore, their own leadership was far smaller than that of the enemy. If Juno, the commander, and Eden, his second, were both taken out, then that was it for them. 

There was no doubt that a head-to-head match would be certain victory for the imperial forces, and even if their side could somehow manage to hold up, it would be impossible for them to snatch a win without taking casualties en masse. Why did he assume that the idea of them leveraging their smaller number to launch a surprise attack on the enemy headquarters would never occur to the imperial officers? Why did he neglect the possibility of the superior side launching a surprise attack of their own? 

He had just been bitten in the behind by his own foolishness. 

The enemy forces executing this surprise attack seemed to be a handpicked, elite group of around twenty or thirty in number, though it was impossible to discern a precise number in the midst of the fray. 

“Calm down! There aren’t that many of them. We’ll just take them out one by—” 

Before Juno could even finish speaking, a sword swung toward him. 

“Guh!” 

He managed to block the blade with his own sword in the nick of time, but out of the corner of his eye, he spied another enemy drawing a bow. If he tried to avoid the arrow, he would leave himself open to be hacked down by the sword. However, if he continued moving to repel the blade, he was sure to be pierced by the arrow. 

“Damn it! This can’t end here! I made a promise—a promise to Lady…!” 

Whoosh! 

As the arrow flew, Juno prepared himself for death. 

Ker-smack! 

“Huh…?” 

Juno, the enemy swordsman, and the enemy archer all voiced their confusion in unison. 

“By the hand of justice, we lend you our aid!” 

Before them stood an elegant swordswoman with golden hair, who had just used her sword to strike down the swiftly flying arrow… A strange, peculiar figure, wearing a mask to hide her identity… 

Without a word, the two imperial soldiers turned on the swordswoman. 

“True Godspeed Blade!” 

In the blink of an eye, both of the men had been struck with the flat of her blade. (In cases like these, striking with the part of the sword that would not cut someone straight through granted quite a bit more leeway.) 

“Fireball!” A magical incantation rang out from the swordswoman’s side. 

No matter how skilled a fighter one was, an attack spell was no laughing matter. One could not fend off magic with a blade, after all. 

If one were a combat magic wielder, one could get work any place, any time. Yet of course, those who would willingly enter into military service—let alone place themselves on the perilous front lines—were few and far between. Apparently, the imperial forces were willing to make that sort of investment. One of the enemy fighters rallied his own spell, but just when it was about to hit… 

“Anti-Magic Blade!” 

Bwoosh! 

“Wha…?” 

Inconceivably, the swordswoman’s blade sliced the magical projectile clear in half. The attacking mage stood stock-still, unable to believe what he had just seen with his own two eyes. And then… 

“Wind Edge!” 

As the blade of wind went flying, the mage, with his inadequate armor, was struck down. Not only was the lady a top-notch swordswoman, but she was a combat magic wielder as well. How could such a person possibly exist?! 

“K-kill her! Kill her now!!!” shouted the man who appeared to be the captain of the surprise attackers, judging the swordswoman to be their greatest threat. 

Hearing this, the swordswoman coolly replied, “I shall never die! No matter how many times you fell me, I shall be restored and return to this battlefield. I will fight eternally to make my splendid dreams come true. For the sake of justice and the sake of my friends!” 

She held her sword high above her head and declared, “I am invincible! No matter how many times I fall, I shall be reborn. I am the ‘Reborn Knight’!” 

Seemingly out of thin air, three girls then appeared at the swordswoman’s side, giving their names in turn. 

“Hunting down my enemies with ferocious tenacity, reaping their souls, I am the fearsome slayer, ‘Magical Red’!” 

“Guiding those souls to Hell, I am the holy ‘Maiden of Darkness’!” 

“Wh—? Pau—er, didn’t we decide that your name was going to be, ‘The Buxom Huntress’?!” the silver-haired child interjected. 

“Y-you be quiet! Anyway, we aren’t supposed to be ‘hunters’ right now, are we?!” the busty girl raged in reply. 

Finally, the silver-haired child introduced herself. 

“And I am she who quashes the superior side. They call me, ‘Superior Mask’!” 

The last time this particular character had made an appearance, her catchphrase was the complete opposite. Thankfully, the soldiers knew nothing of this. There was an entirely different question ringing through all of their minds: 

Why are they wearing those suspicious masks?! 

After the introductions were over, the four masked girls launched a high-speed assault. By spell and by blade, the imperial soldiers fell one after another. More importantly, the preceding hullabaloo had interrupted the flow of battle and granted the Ascham forces the chance to recover from the surprise attack, while the imperial troops were now, conversely, in splendid disarray. By numbers, the surprise attack force had no hope of winning—and almost immediately, the men lay prostrate on the ground. 

The men who had been felled by the mysterious reinforcements were not gravely injured, but, as one might expect, those who had faced the Ascham soldiers were all seriously wounded, or even dead. Given that they did not have much leeway in the situation and no clear upper hand in terms of strength, taking their enemies hostage in the heat of battle was simply not possible. Even if it had been a possibility, it was probably not something that any of the Ascham soldiers were particularly inclined to do. 

The enemies could plead all that they liked, but they would be shown no mercy. No soldier would ever be foolish enough to show kindness to an invader. 

After all of the imperial soldiers had been dealt with, their own casualties tended to, and the remaining enemies taken hostage and sent back to headquarters, Commander Juno turned to the girls who had come to their aid. 

“Wh-who are all of you…?” 

The one who replied was the girl who looked to be the oldest of the group—the one who had come to Juno’s defense. 

“We are the mercenary band, the Order of the Crimson Blood. We’ve accepted a job request from someone indebted to an associate of the house of Ascham and come from another land to offer our assistance.” 

“O-our deepest thanks…” 

Clearly, these were fighters who would not neglect to repay a favor that was done for them—and they were not afraid to leap into the fray of a battle that they had slim chance of winning. These were two things that deserved great gratitude…even if that name of theirs was a little bit peculiar. 

Juno had not gotten a good look at the other members of the group, but now, he inspected them. They were all quite young, perhaps even underage, and… 

“Wh…?” 

Juno’s body froze. 

Radiant, flowing silver locks. A visage that, even obscured by her mask, gave the impression of someone who was kindhearted, if a little bit absentminded. Just like she had been, the very first time he met her… 

The words spilled, unconsciously, from Juno’s mouth. 

“Lady…Mabel…?” 

Wasn’t that my mother’s name…? Hang on, this guy is probably the commander of the military, isn’t he? If I recall, the commander of our forces was… 

Recalling faces was a weakness of Mile’s. Other than that, her general powers of recollection were far superior to most. Thus, even though there was no way for her to recall Juno’s face—a face that she had seen but a handful of times from afar, many years ago—she would never forget the words that she heard so often in conversation with her mother and grandfather: “Juno, the commander of our military,” “Juno, whom my father rescued when I was twelve years old,” “Juno, who protects us and our people.” 

Remembering these conversations, Mile smiled gently and absently uttered a phrase—a phrase that her mother herself had said to this man on the day when they first met: 

“Juno, you must protect Ascham…” 

The four members of the Crimson Vow disappeared back into the trees, leaving behind the man, whose face was now soaked with tears. There was a sound—perhaps a wail of anguish or a roar of delight. It resounded all throughout the woodlands where the Ascham troops had made camp. 

Henceforth, there was one truth that the soldiers of Ascham came to know: a human can become a god of vengeance while he still lives and breathes. This was not a myth, but reality. 

“Mile,” asked Mavis sometime after, “was that man back there an acquaintance of yours?” 

“Yes, though only by name. I think he was the commander of the Ascham military,” Mile replied. 

“So what the heck was that scream we heard right after we left him?” Reina asked suspiciously. 

“Who knows? I think my mother was around the same age that I am now when she first met him. It sort of seemed like he’d mistaken me for her, and I guess I said something that she said to him back then. So he might have been remembering…” 

“You’re a monster!!!” the other three screamed. 

“Huh?” 

*** 

“Damn it! What are they doing out there?!” the colonel of the imperial forces shouted at his staff within the temporary walls of their grassland headquarters. 

“Maybe they encountered some difficulties in locating the enemy?” 

Even if their sneak attack had failed, it was most unlikely that every single one of the imperial soldiers sent out had been killed. If they made their retreat the moment that they realized failure was inevitable, then at least some of them should have been able to return to give a report. The fact that none of them had reappeared must have meant that they still had yet to actually encounter the enemy. 

“I suppose we’ll have to wait just a little while longer…” said the colonel with a shrug. 

Just then, a single soldier came running towards him. 

“I have a message! The supply convoy that was scheduled to arrive tonight came under attack! The units escorting the convoy only sustained minor injuries, but all of the goods have been destroyed!” 

“ What?! ” 

They were on the front lines and had just suffered a blow to their supply line. That was a huge problem…or would have been, for any lesser army. For superior forces like theirs, such a setback was a trifle. Even if they lost out on some of their supplies, their food and drink stores remained undiminished, and in a war that was being fought largely with swords and spears, there was no worry of dealing with insufficient shells or ammunition. At most, they might have to scrimp a bit on arrows, but with numbers like theirs, this was of little concern. 

The convoy that had traveled out with them at the start had carried more than enough supplies to begin with, leaving them with adequate surplus so that they would have no trouble waiting until the next convoy could arrive. Even if they did begin to run low, they could simply raid the lands that they were occupying—or just have the soldiers tough out the shortages for a bit. 

Why then had the colonel let out such a cry? 

“How the hell did the enemy get behind us?! Or was this an attack from the people of the occupied lands?!” 

Surely enough, the matter of the shifting battle lines was what had given the man pause. 

“It could be either one… That said, it’s not as though they actually attacked our main forces from the rear. They’re probably just hurting for food and decided to brave the danger to try and pillage our supplies… If that’s the case, and it was the Ascham forces, it should be easy enough to run them down. The fact that they would bother to get behind us, only to prioritize stealing our supplies over staging an actual attack means that they must be in pretty bad shape. Dwindling supplies mean that morale is low, and they won’t have much longer in them! I bet we can just wait for the next supply convoy and then push right on through the fief.” 

“Hmm. I suppose that might be so…” 

The officer’s words cheered the colonel somewhat. 

Neither the officer nor the colonel were idiots. They had had a plan for supplying their troops from the start—not even as a last-ditch effort. In truth, their recognition of the importance of logistics in warfare was relatively modern, even by Earth’s standards. 

As recently as World War II, there were many who would insist that procuring supplies locally was sufficient. Around the time of the Russo-Japanese War, military supply personnel were often belittled, with such popular sayings as, “If a wagon driver can be a soldier, then butterflies and dragonflies may as well be birds,” and this attitude persisted even into World War II. 

In this world, where most commanders were utterly unconcerned with whether their low-ranking subordinates even had enough to eat, there were very few who understood the necessity of maintaining weaponry or supplying ammunition. As a result, the commanders who focused on supply lines were relatively few. These men had kept some supplies in reserve, so a bit of a delay in resupply was not a problem. 

*** 

A few days later, they still had not seen either hide nor hair of the surprise attack squadron, and the scouts who had gone to look for them had yet to return. The colonel was growing peevish when he received another report. 

“The supply convoy was attacked! All the goods were destroyed!” 

“Again?! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” 

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

They had carried quite a lot of food with them at the outset, and they had yet to exhaust their supplies of arrows or medicine in the course of battle. Technically, even if they experienced a bit of a delay in receiving their supplies, they had more than enough to mobilize. That said, if they were to attempt a proper invasion of the Ascham lands now, there was a possibility that they would begin hurting for supplies. What would hurt the most, however, was their comfort: the ale, high-quality foods, and other fresh items that the officers had reserved for themselves had already begun to bottom out. 

“What are those convoy guards doing?! Send out some of our men and capture whoever is attacking—” 

“A new report, sir! The supply stores of the 2 nd and 3 rd battalions have been destroyed! The 4 th and 5 th battalions have lost roughly half of their stockpiles as well!” 

“Wh—?!” 

The supply depots were manned not by the transport personnel but by members of the army proper. Now, those battalions most affected were entirely out of provisions—food, drinking water, and everything else. Even the colonel could see that this was a sticky situation. 

“Take me there!” 

The invading forces were a large-scale regiment, made up of five individual battalions formed of roughly 1,000 men each. The goods that had been brought in with the regiment had been divided up equally between the five battalions with each one maintaining their own individual depot. The fact that they had come under attack without their own forces even noticing meant that the enemy was capable of attacking the imperial forces from any side at any time. And that their attacks might even reach headquarters… 

With this in mind, the colonel proceeded to each of the battalion’s depots. What he saw was utterly unthinkable. 

“H-how could this…?” 

What the colonel had expected to see were ruined supply tents, and the smoldering, burnt-out husks of destroyed goods. However, what he found were clusters of supply tents still standing cleanly in a row, as though nothing had even happened… 

However, each of these clusters had been utterly emptied without a single item left inside. 

“What is going on here?!” the colonel shouted, laying into the commanders of each battalion as they arrived on the scene. “I would understand if the enemies had infiltrated and set fire to the depots. Well, no—I’d still have a lot of questions about whatever useless security measures allowed that to happen, but at least it would still make sense. How in the hell do you explain this?!” 

Indeed, it should have been impossible for someone to simply waltz in and carry off such a large amount of supplies without anyone noticing. It would take innumerable perpetrators just to transport that much without the use of conspicuous supply wagons. 

And yet, someone had accomplished this in almost no time at all, without being detected by anyone. Such a thing should not have been possible. 

“Don’t tell me that you lot…” 

Realizing what the colonel must be thinking, the battalion commanders began to go pale. 

“D-don’t be ridiculous! There’s no one who would be stupid enough to take advantage of the situation by siphoning off supplies from the front lines! Anyone who would try something like that wouldn’t even make it home alive to be put before the military tribunal!” 

Their death would be all but guaranteed—either by their inability to fight properly due to lack of supplies or the likelihood of their falling victim to their own enraged subordinates. 

Even the colonel could not help but accept that logic. 

“What in the world happened here?” 

*** 

“We have so many of their supplies!” 

Pauline looked very much like the cat who caught the canary. 

“Seriously though, just how much can you fit in that storage of yours?” Reina stared in awe. 

“Well, it is Mile…” Mavis seemed to have already realized that it was futile to think too hard about it. 

Mile, of course, played it off with a laugh. 

“This kind of seems like foul play, though…” 

Just as Reina suggested, it was a bit underhanded. Mile had simply trekked into the enemy camp under the protection of an invisibility field, a sound barrier, smell barrier, and general detection barrier, scooped up the enemy’s supplies into her inventory and trekked all the way back. It was incredibly easy work. 

Transport units almost always had officers or some other kind of guards sticking closely to their wagons and carts, or even riding on them. As a result, sneaking in quietly to requisition an army’s goods, even when they stopped to make camp, was quite impossible. Therefore, Mile had aimed for the middle of the day, when the convoys were on the move, to avoid any large-scale injuries. 

By surrounding and entrapping the convoys with fire or earth magic and attacking them from the sides, they were rendered unable to proceed, their handlers forced to disembark the wagons and flee to the sides of the road. Once they had done so, it was safe to attack the vehicles with fire. 

Indeed, both the attacks launched upon the imperial supply convoys and the mysterious disappearance of the goods from the depots had all been the work of the Crimson V—er, the Order of the Crimson Blood. 

Naturally, the one who had proposed these attacks had been Mile, who knew all about the importance of cutting off enemy supply lines from the books, war films, and foreign dramas she had watched in her previous life, but Pauline had been all for it, too. 

*** 

“What’s the meaning of this?!” 

“That’s what I should be asking!” 

An emergency strategy meeting had been called at the camp, and the atmosphere was tense, all parties present glaring at one another under the colonel’s watchful eyes. 

“Give us back our supplies at once! We might be part of the same army, but once the goods are distributed, if you let the enemy steal yours then that’s your problem! You’ve got no right to come and try and take ours!” 

“That’s what I should be saying! The 2 nd and 3 rd battalions had everything taken from them, but the 1 st battalion is unscathed. Seems pretty weird that the 4 th and 5 th both had half of theirs taken, doesn’t it?! It’s obvious that the enemy thieves got the 2 nd through 4 th , but then they ran out of time or reached their carrying limits and retreated. Then, as soon as the 4 th realized, they rushed over and stole half the goods from us at the 5 th and stashed ’em in their own depot!” 

“I could say the exact same thing to you!” 

“In that case, care to explain why the enemy would’ve skipped over the 4 th and come over to the 5 th ? It seems natural that after the 2 nd , 3 rd , and 4 th comes the 5 th —and given that the 1 st was untouched, it’s pretty likely they tried to avoid the ones at the tail ends because it’d be too easy to spot them. You had better have a very good explanation!” 

“Grrnh…” 

The fact that the 5 th battalion commander’s words were growing steadily more polite was an indication of the fact that his anger was growing. Meanwhile, as for the commanders of the 1 st , 2 nd , and 3 rd battalions… 

“Just what is the meaning of this? How is it that we of the 2 nd battalion, and the 3 rd as well, now have utterly empty stores while the 1 st is untouched—and in fact, has at least 30 percent more than we did to start?” 

The 2 nd and 3 rd battalion commanders’ faces were twitching, the veins bulging in their foreheads. 

“How should I know?! I have no idea how this happened, I swear it!” 

The commander of the 1 st battalion would normally be enraged at such baseless accusations, but on this occasion, he appeared more mildly uneasy than anything else. The physical evidence of the imbalance aside, he had swiftly realized that to lob any strong words at the 2 nd and 3 rd , who had lost everything up to and including their food while they themselves had escaped injury, would be inexcusable. 

Of course, the only thing that this restraint accomplished was to confirm the 2 nd and 3 rd battalion commanders’ doubts about his behaviors. 

Even if they were divided into battalions, such divisions were only temporary. They were still comrades, soldiers of the same regiment, in the same invading force. If anyone had lost their goods, the others should have been happy to redistribute their own. 

However, to see those same comrades thieving from them and then pretending ignorance, and then trying to accuse them of stealing? Such things could be neither abided nor forgiven. They could give these so-called allies no quarter until they confessed to their crimes and returned the stolen goods at once. 

Greatly vexed by this feud between his subordinate officers, the colonel gave up his investigation on the spot. He could already tell that, no matter what his findings were, restoring trust and morale among his men was already well nigh impossible. 

“As things stand, the possibility of the Ascham troops infiltrating us and meddling with our supplies continues to grow, a fact that is made all the more dangerous by our current shortages. The next time that a convoy is scheduled to arrive, we will send a guard to meet it. Once we have received those goods and redistributed them, the invasion shall proceed. Do you understand me?!” 

Thus was the colonel’s decree. Whether or not the men were happy about it, no one could overrule him. The five commanders replied as one, “Yes, sir!” 

“Very good. Now, when is the next convoy set to arrive?” 

“Well, the next one is scheduled to have more guards, and it will be carrying a great deal more than usual to account for the previous two that were lost, so accounting for a slight delay, it should be arriving in four days.” 

“Very well. Five days from now, bright and early, our invasion begins. Spending all these days waiting on the damn surprise attack units was nothing more than a waste of our time…” 

Later that evening, an officer appeared at the colonel’s tent, looking queasy. 

“S-sir! A-all the goods in our d-depot have—” 

“What’s this?! Speak clearly, man!” 

“All of our supplies have vanished!” 

“How the hell?!” 

The colonel rushed to the depot in a panic, only to find it exactly as he had left it that afternoon. All of the barrels and crates that had contained food and other supplies were just as they had been. Seeing the confusion on his face, the officer explained. 

“They’re only the containers. Empty crates and empty barrels. When we checked them all this afternoon, the contents were still intact—there’s no mistaking it!” 

“………” 

It was inexplicable, but it was just as the man said. 

“We no longer have the leisure of awaiting the convoy. To wait for four days without any food would be far too dangerous. If this is all the enemy’s doing, then there’s a chance that they’ll launch an attack on us at our weakest moment, and judging by how things have gone so far, it is possible that our next convoy, no matter how well guarded, will suffer an attack as well. I’m certain the enemy will come at us with their full force. If that should happen…” 

The officer gulped. 

“Our invasion begins tomorrow morning. First, we will head to the river to replenish our water, and then we set course for the capital. Spread the word!” 

The officer rushed out. 

Unfortunately for the soldiers, there was something they would not learn until they had already refilled their barrels at the river and were half a day away: 

All of the metal bindings on those barrels had been ever so subtly loosened, and the wooden panels that formed them all cracked, just so. No matter what they did, they could not stop the barrels from leaking… 

*** 

“What was that?” 

“Well, sir, our barrels have been leaking, little by little. Currently, they are all nearly empty.” 

Hearing this latest report, the colonel was enraged. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” 

“The cask bindings have gone loose and the wooden panels are cracked, ever so slightly… It’s not enough to be obvious when you first put the water in. They were leaking so slowly that we didn’t notice it back at the river.” 

“And you’re telling me that you just now noticed this, after we’ve already marched for half a day?!” 

The colonel could scream all he wanted, but it wouldn’t change the facts. 

“Repair the barrels at once, and go get us some more water!” the colonel ordered. 

However, his dithering subordinate replied, “B-but sir, we haven’t the smiths to re-forge the bindings, and the other sections are all cracked, or have notches in them. These parts aren’t something that just any layman can repair…” 

“Well then, what do you propose we do?” 

The subordinate, unable to respond, fell silent. 

Even if they were to gather up all of the other vessels that they had on hand—in other words, their few buckets and wooden bowls and such—this would still achieve nothing. Even using all such items to draw water, the yield would be very small, and to carry them for half a day would only see their contents spilled. In any event, they had very few such containers to begin with. Naturally, even the colonel was aware that such an ordeal was not worth undertaking. 

“Send for more barrels at once. I’m sure they can be requisitioned from the lands we’re already occupying. While we’re at it, gather up as much food as you can. I don’t care if it’s rice seed or seed potatoes—confiscate it all. It’s the natural duty of the peasants to offer up anything that their leaders require. Now! Go!” 

While they were at this, the colonel reasoned, they may as well stockpile as many barrels as possible. Some of their supplies had been stolen in their barrels, so their supply of containers was already insufficient. If they were empty, then a good number could easily be transported at a swift pace. 

Yet, just as the colonel issued this order, one of the rations officers came flying into the command quarters. 

“Damn it! If it isn’t one thing, it’s another!” 

The officers in the vicinity looked quite uneasy. Without anyone noticing, the bindings of the barrels had been warped and the wood broken. All while their supplies had been under very careful watch… 

Normally, they wouldn’t go to the trouble of diligently attending to a lot of empty barrels and crates from which all the goods had already been stolen. However, as there was still a good chance that the enemy was slipping freely in and out of their temporary camp, the men had been instructed to keep a close watch on things. In spite of this, the barrels had been compromised. 

If the enemies could just sneak in whenever they liked, then did that not also mean that they could slip in and slit their throats as they slept, without anyone noticing? It seemed only logical. 

No matter how skilled and disciplined the soldiers in their employ, if all of the command staff were assassinated in the middle of the night… The colonel preferred not to imagine that scenario, instead preferring the theory that there might be traitors in their own midst who were colluding with the enemy. It was about a million times more appealing to imagine this work had been their doing. 

However, the problems did not stop there. 

Relations between the battalions were growing dangerously strained. Perhaps the worst they could possibly be. 

What drove a soldier to brave inhospitable conditions and risk his life on the battlefield, surpassing his own limits to bring about victory, was the desire to protect his family and his motherland. More than that, his greatest strength came from the will to protect his comrades—the refusal to let a single one die. 

Now, stricken with hunger and thirst, the commander’s troops were calling the men of the other battalions thieves, traitors, and cowards. There would be no raising morale in circumstances like these. 

To them, the others were not comrades, but enemies who had stolen their food, refused to share their own, and shirked their duties to their allies with the excuse that they, too, had been stolen from. No person who would steal another’s life-sustaining food and water could ever be called anything but an enemy. 

Worse still, among those who believed the other battalions to be their enemies, that line of thinking was sure to soon grow more entrenched. Next, they would grow distrustful of the other companies, then the other platoons, then the other squads. And then, each and every other man who would take from them the food and water that should have been theirs. 

These men could agree to fight to the death for the sake of their homeland, alongside allies who they could trust. However, why would they ever agree to suffer and die for the sake of a bunch of thieving scumbags? It was a pointless death. A dog’s death. 

And once they were dead, those allies who lived on—who had stolen all their food and water—would go back home to take all the credit for their victory! 

It was unfathomable. Who would die for something like that? No, they were going to make it back home alive… 

Soldiers who thought like this could never give their all in a fight. They would prioritize their own safety over working together to defeat the enemy. And this was the true definition of cowardice … 

*** 

“Looks like they’re on the move,” said Reina. 

“Just as we predicted,” Pauline agreed. 

Just then, Mile interjected, “Guys, come on! Right there, you’re supposed to sneer, like this, and say, ‘All according to plan…’ or, ‘Just as the patterns divined…’ or, like, ‘Soldiers are nothing but trash!’” 

The other three looked back at her in silence as Mile glared at them. 

I guess she’s trying to put on a good face for us? thought Mavis. Apparently, there was still much that she did not understand about the mysterious creature known as Mile. 

“Let’s get going!” 

“Yeah!!!” 

*** 

After having vanquished the imperial ambushers’ units, the 300 Ascham troops broke up into 10 platoons of 30 men apiece and traveled around to the different hamlets of the fief, all while the imperial forces were still frittering around wasting time. 

There was no way that an army of their numbers could ever hope for a straightforward victory against an army with scores more men. Therefore, they had no choice but to gather up all the civilians in their lands to fortify the capital’s defenses, at least until reinforcements from the Crown, or other lords, could arrive. 

The odds that those reinforcements would appear anytime soon were slim. However, even if the people were to abandon their lands and flee from Ascham, they would have no means by which to live, and the Ascham soldiers had not the slightest shred of intention of abandoning their homes in the first place. For them, there was no other viable option. 

There were many villagers who refused to leave behind their homes and their farms and the lands where their ancestors were buried, so the soldiers had to convince those folks, as well as help move the sick who were too weak to move on their own, transporting the minimal amount of baggage possible. Bogged down by these details, the enactment of the evacuation plan did not go off quite as intended. But there was no meaning in a land without its denizens. To boast of Ascham was to boast of its people. Plus, there was the promise that Juno had made to Mabel. 

“C’mon, sir, it’s not like you have to leave this place behind forever! The royal troops and our neighbors’ forces will come to help us, and also, the imperial army will be here soon!” 

“I-Ish that sho, shonny…? Will I really be able t’ come back to thish place? My wife’s grave ish here… I can’t help but think it would be better if I just shtayed here and died right beshide where my wife ish buried…” 

As they rode along in the wagons, the old-timers had to be reassured of the same things again and again. It was a routine by now—just like gathering food or taking out the trash. 

All of the watering holes were either concealed or rendered temporarily unusable. With some time and effort they could be re-dug as good as new, but no invading force was going to take the time to do such a thing. 

“Hurry! The imperial army…no, the ‘Albarnian bandits’ will be here soon!” 

Fiends who had not so much as issued a declaration of war could not be recognized as an army. ‘Bandits’ was a good enough term for them. Juno thought so, at any rate. 

In just a few days, the imperial army would likely be on the move again. There was a chance that reconnaissance troops and other advance units might even start out before then, ahead of the main corps. Just like those units before… At any rate, whenever it was that they finally encountered the enemy again, Juno would not be surprised. 

It was a little while after they had finished up evacuation preparations in one of the villages and were on the move again, helping to transport the villagers’ things to the capital, that the first incident occurred. 

“Sir Juno! We’ve lost sight of the children!” 

It was a small fief, protected by a small army. There was hardly a citizen around who did not know the face of Juno, who often visited each settlement for the sake of training or assisting with other heavy labor. Several ashen-faced villagers had come to him to deliver this report. 

“What?!” Juno shouted. 

Upon inquiring further, he learned that a few of the naughtier children had suddenly vanished—and there was a very good chance that they had not gotten lost but run away on purpose. 

“My daughter told me that she had forgotten something important back at home, so it’s possible that they went back to the village…” 

Hearing this, Juno summoned his deputy, Roland, at once. 

“Roland, have half of the men continue on to escort the villagers. I will take the other half and search for the children.” 

“Yes, sir!” 

By this point, Roland knew well enough that there was no point in wasting any time trying to stop Juno. There was not a member of the Ascham army who did not know that. 

Juno and the fifteen men under his command headed back to the village, finally finding the five children. Just as they started to head back to catch up with the main troops, however— 

“Soldiers of the kingdom! Don’t let a single one escape! Make sure you bring a few in good enough shape to talk!” 

With these words, several dozen imperial soldiers appeared. 

Judging by what was said, the men intended to capture some of Juno’s men and slaughter the rest. They would likely be tortured for information about Brandel without ever having a chance to send back word of their own circumstances. 

If the enemy soldiers had been riding on horseback down the highway, they probably would have spotted them sooner, but they appeared to be recon troops or some other sort of forerunners, lying in wait and preparing a trap for the Brandel soldiers, so were moving quietly on foot. With their attention fully focused on finding the children, Juno and his men took notice of the enemy soldiers just a little too late. 

With the children in tow, it would be impossible to simply make a run for it. They had no choice but to stand and fight it out. Surrender, of course, was never even an option. 

“Keep the walls of the buildings at your backs and protect the children! If we can each take down—what, two or three of the enemy?—then it’ll be over in a jiffy. Nothing to it!” 

“You got that right, sir!” the soldiers roared. 

There wasn’t a soldier around who would be afraid of a skirmish like this one. Grinning at his subordinates’ hardy reply, Juno plunged forth into the enemy ranks, a handful of his men following behind him. The remainder stayed behind as guard, keeping the walls and the children at their backs. 

In the battle that would come to unfold, the Ascham forces were vastly outmatched. In battle, Juno was a lion, but fighting against real, trained soldiers—ones who were skilled enough to have been selected as a vanguard, at that—was not the same as fighting against bandits, and no matter how fired up his men were, they were nowhere near the level to take on several men at once. 

What left them at even more of a disadvantage, however, was that they were forced to split their resources in twain. 

If they were to group up all as one, keeping the children in the middle, then the enemies would simply surround them and pick them off at their leisure. So there was no choice but to leave behind one portion of their forces to defend the children, while the other group went flying into the fray, whipping up a frenzy among their enemies. However, this meant that the men who were guarding the children could not move from where they were, and for now, the imperial soldiers were free to completely ignore them. Thus, the wrath of the imperial soldiers came down on the fragmented forces with full force, and it seemed clear that both would be quashed in their turn. 

The Ascham soldiers’ assumption—that the imperial forces would plan to target the children as hostages—had betrayed them. 

It would have been one thing if the imperial troops were only a little over twice their numbers. However, here they were facing four or five times as many men, and they quickly found themselves at a complete loss. Juno managed to take down several of the imperial soldiers, and the other men gave everything they had as well, but they were outnumbered. Now they could only pray that the enemies would not lay a hand upon the children once they were through with the men. 

After all, the men of Ascham reassured themselves, the enemies they faced were not truly bandits or cutthroats, but trained soldiers just like them. They were under the charge of a legitimately appointed commanding officer, and as such, it was unthinkable that they would act barbarically. And yet… 

“We don’t need those brats. Kill ’em all.” 

“What?!” the Ascham men shouted. 

Anywhere in the world, there were good people. Likewise, anywhere in the world there were people who could best be described as human trash. 

After felling the men who fought alongside Juno one by one, the imperial commander now ordered an attack on the soldiers who guarded the children. Naturally, the scope of that attack would include the children as well… 

“You can’t! I won’t let you! Graaaaah!!!” 

Juno raised a battle cry and swung his sword with all his might, but Lanchester’s linear law was a cruel mistress. In a battle of blades and arrows, the results all depended on the difference in numbers between each of the sides—in a harsh, linear function. The only thing that could upset this was… 

“Fireball!” 

“Ice Needle!” 

“Wind Edge!” 

Indeed, the only way to combat such a reality was to introduce into the fray combatants who had the means to rain certain death indiscriminately upon a group of enemies, regardless of their numbers. This was certainly the case with a rifle or machine gun. In such a case, one side was operating on linear law versus another operating on square law. The two sides were so fundamentally different that there was no point in even trying to formulate an equation. 

Magic suddenly began raining down on the imperial soldiers. 

The men who had been heading toward the soldiers guarding the children flailed as they were bathed in a mass of fireballs, while the men who were keeping Juno’s team in check were pelted with icy needles and scythe-like whirlwinds. 

“Hell, are you all amateurs?! They’re mages, just get there and knock ’em down before they can finish their next spells! Go!” 

In close-range combat there was no hope for a mage who was attacked without time to cast their spells. However, that was only the case if they were attacked and if they were a mage. 

“Wind Edge! Wind Edge! Wind Edge!!!” 

“Wha?! She can cast without an incantation? More than once?!” 

As far as Mavis herself was aware, her “Wind Edge” was not magical. It was merely a sword attack that utilized her spiritual energy, so as long as she could swing her sword, she could cast it as much as she liked… 

Surely, this was breaking the rules. That said, the power of the Wind Edge was not enough to cleave through the trunk of an armor-clad enemy in a single stroke. Still, as the imperial soldiers’ numbers diminished, and they tried to plunge toward the mages… 

“EX True Godspeed Blade!” Mavis shouted. 

Thinking that the power of her normal True Godspeed Blade would be insufficient against most trained soldiers, she had already popped a capsule of Micros… Just one, this time. She couldn’t risk ruining her body at a time like this, when Mile was not present. 

The imperial soldiers fell left and right. Luckily for them, she held her power back, striking them with the flat of the blade so as not to kill them. 

“Impossible! How could a mere mage…?” the man who appeared to be the commander began to shout. 

Mavis proudly replied, “I am a knight. A Magical Knight!!!” 

While the imperial soldiers fell back, the Ascham troops took the opportunity to mobilize. Their enemy’s numbers had been greatly diminished, and now, impeded by the magical attacks…they were sitting ducks. 

Disregarding some more extraordinary exceptions, there was little difference in strength between most top-class soldiers. Thus, if one side had their strength lowered by even 20 percent, they were already in an untenable position. Imbued with new confidence, the soldiers defending the children repelled the enemy forces as one, swearing that they would not allow even one man to slip past them. 

In the disarray, Reina and Pauline were able to wrap up their next spells, Reina launching another attack and Pauline providing healing to the injured Ascham soldiers. Anyone who approached either of the two were sent flying by the flat of Mavis’s blade. As the number of enemy soldiers continued to decrease, the number of battle-ready soldiers on the Ascham side was steadily increasing, thanks to Pauline’s healing. 

The match was quickly settled after that. After pinning down the enemy commander, who attempted to flee, Juno left his capture to his subordinates and headed over to where the three girls stood. 

“This makes twice now that you’ve saved us,” he said. “I can’t thank you enough. Also…” 

He trailed off in the midst of his thanks, looking around nervously. 

“Wh-where’s Lady Mabel…?” 

Ah. 

The three girls’ faces fell. 

“Unfortunately, she had a letter to deliver.” 

At Pauline’s reply, Juno could not help but think, Ah, she’s sending a message to the gods up in Heaven. It gave him the utmost regret that he was unable to meet her, but if she was on errand to the gods themselves, then there was little to be done. However, he could yet feel the depths of her love and grace in leaving her servants behind to protect them. So Juno mused, until… 

“We just so happened to be able to help you this time, but please don’t expect our assistance every time hereafter. That kind of dependent thinking offends the Goddess, and those who comport themselves in that manner will be denied her protection,” the busty girl decreed, appearing to have guessed exactly what he was thinking. 

Quickly, Juno bowed his head, amending his flawed, “dependent” train of thought. 

“Now then, we shall depart.” 

With those words, the three girls left. Juno and his men watched, as they disappeared over the horizon. 

*** 

“Mile told us to take it easy and get some food in a nearby village or something until she comes back from delivering that letter. And yet, here we are working for free!” Reina sulked. 

Apparently, the fact that the trio had been present for the rescue mission was truly coincidental—in this instance, they had not planned on coming to the Ascham army’s aid. 

Of course, though Reina was vaguely sullen about it, they all knew that they had not intended to earn any money during this particular job in the first place. 

“It may have been a coincidence, but I think it’s still good that we could help. Let’s recall that we saved an acquaintance of Mile’s, the soldiers who technically work for Mile, and a bunch of children, who all live here,” replied Mavis, ever the optimist. 

“That’s quite right. Besides, if the commander of the Ascham army died in a place like this, that would really put a kink in our plans. Still, this misunderstanding has really made things strange between Mile and that man… I get the feeling that the more they see each other, the worse Mile’s going to feel, so perhaps this is all for the best.” 

And then there was Pauline, calm and collected to the last. “At any rate, it seemed like the Ascham forces were already well equipped in terms of food and water, and once they read that letter they’ll have a surplus, which I think we can expect them to use their discretion in distributing. At this point, I think it’s safe to say we can leave Ascham to them. After we reconvene with Mile, we can head toward the county south of here, which has already been invaded by the Empire.” 

Pauline spoke with a smile, but it was one in which there was not an ounce of mercy to be found. 

*** 

Their task of escorting the villagers complete, all of Juno’s men had returned to the capital. Now, with everyone back together, Juno once again took charge of the force. As they got into formation to repel the approaching imperial forces, a soldier approached Juno, carrying a message. 

“A silver-haired girl asked me to deliver this letter,” the man said. 

“A message…?” 

That well-developed brunette had said something about this, hadn’t she? If Juno recalled… 

“ Unfortunately, she had a letter to deliver…” 

Juno snatched the letter from the man’s hands. The contents of the message read: 

The imperial forces have lost all of their supplies, including their food and water. In addition, all of their attempts at resupply have been interrupted. The following measures have been undertaken to prevent them from receiving any further supplies… 

Below this were spelled out various methods of surprise and rear attacks, and instructions for making incredibly wicked traps… 

The name of the sender was not written, but Juno did not need a name to know who it was from. Anyone who read this letter, who had been vexed by Lady Mabel’s mischief and the clever traps she had set in her youth, would immediately recognized the methods outlined in this letter as exactly the sort of thing Lady Mabel would do when fired up. 

At the end of the letter was inscribed a single line. 

“Oh, my…” 

Juno gripped the silver-haired girl’s letter tightly, tears flowing down his face. 

“Oh, my word!” 

Just as the people around him began to worry that there was something wrong, Juno shouted: “It’s a divine decree! For now on, we of the Ascham army are the foot soldiers of the Goddess herself, under her command! We are a chosen army! Beginning at this moment, we are a divine force! The winds of justice, the will of the divine, and the Goddess’s own protection flow through all of us!” 

The men let out a roar, the likes of which only a howling storm could rival. 

Juno was not the sort to stir his men up with empty lies, and by now, everyone had heard the tale of how the Goddess’s servants had helped them stave off the imperial ambush just a few days prior—and furthermore, how those same servants had come to the aide of Juno’s squad and the children after that. 

Lady Mabel had ascended to heaven in order to protect her people. Now she was visiting her blessings upon them—and she had three divine soldiers accompanying her as well. 

They could win. No, they had to win. The will of the universe could never permit a divine army under the Goddess’s command to fall to the forces of evil. 

And so, the spirits of vengeance began to multiply. 

“Now then, we shall begin to enact our plan, as directed by our goddess. Thanks to her divine punishment, the imperial army has lost all of its supplies, down to food and water, and all further routes of resupply have been cut off. We shall obstruct the enemy from trying to produce any of their supplies locally and then retreat to wait until they are weak and exhausted. 

“If we enter the battle at all, it will only be in small reconnaissance groups or as independent agents. The Goddess has made the lives and safety of the citizens of Ascham her priority, and we must never forget that you soldiers are her citizens as well. There will be no pointless deaths in this conflict. Do you hear me?!” 

“Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!” 

Another valiant cry rose from the men. 

“All right, then! While we retreat, we’ll hunt all of the jackalopes and orcs that the imperial army might be able to use for food. Let’s store up as many wild fruits and vegetables growing on the side of the road as seem edible, too. Now, let the preparations commence!” 

The army hurriedly began the task of packing up camp. 

*** 

“…And so, we’d like for you all to entrust your food and your barrels to the Goddess just for a short while. We’ll be sure to return them afterwards, and if you don’t comply, the Empire will certainly steal them away. Do you really think that those soldiers, who have lost everything—who are citizens of an enemy nation—are going to look kindly on you citizens of Brandel and leave you your seed crops for next year? They’re going to take everything from you, force you to carry your own goods to the front lines, and demand women—perhaps even young children—to serve them. Hide everything, and then conceal yourselves in the mountains. It’s for your own safety.” 

The so-called Order of the Crimson Blood was keeping busy, traveling to all of the larger villages along the main roads of the county of Cesdour, which abutted the national border, and which the Empire had already conquered. To the smaller villages, they sent on the villagers who had already been persuaded as messengers. The message they carried was, “Hide your food and everything else, and then hide yourselves.” 

Ascham was now in the hands of its army. If they were following the directions outlined in the letter, Mile calculated, then they should be making the same preparations there around now. They didn’t have access to Mile’s inventory, but with their forces concentrated together, they should be able to manage well enough. And of course, the Crimson Vow had no reason to doubt a single particle of Juno’s resolve. After all, at Pauline’s suggestion, they had included a single line at the end of that letter: 

Juno, you must protect Ascham! 

It was quite the wicked gambit… 

*** 

“Damn it! Where are all of those Ascham bastards?!” the colonel of the imperial regiment growled, not even attempting to hide his aggravation. 

The troops had begun their fruitless march to requisition supplies from the locals and had now assaulted countless villages, only to come up empty-handed every time. All signs of the villagers had vanished, including their food and water. Not a single scrap had been left behind. They couldn’t seem to find a trace of any wells, either. It seemed they had been buried, and all ropes and drawing apparatuses dismantled, leaving no indication that they had been there at all—to prevent the imperial troops from using them. 

If all they had done was bury them, then re-digging them later would not be much of a task. With the combined efforts of all the villagers, the reconstruction would take no more than a few days. However, at present, the imperial forces did not have the time to spend days looking for the dig sites and then days more re-digging them themselves. Such time would be far better spent continuing to advance and tearing the capital down. Additionally, there was no telling how much longer it would take to build the simple housings required over the tops of wells—or if something more elaborate was needed, how long it would take to find the devices. For now, they had no choice but to press on. 

“Where are all the Ascham troops? Don’t tell me they all got together and circumvented us to stage a coordinated sneak attack…” 

“No! If they did that, then there would be no one to defend against us invading the capital. It would be impossible for them to completely evacuate the city and hide all of its resources in the way that we’ve seen in these villages. If they lost their capital, then no matter how many hundreds of soldiers they had left, it would be the death of Ascham. 

“Even if they managed to recruit all of the peasants, they would still have only a few hundred more soldiers at best. There would be nothing they could do against us if we’d already set up in their home base. They’d never go so far as laying waste to their own capital, after all.” 

The colonel nodded at his officer’s words. 

“In that case…” 

“Well, sir, I believe we should ignore this clever ruse on the part of our enemy and proceed toward our destination.” 

“Indeed. Apparently, we were foolish to think that we could interrupt their chain of command with a surprise assault and move in to occupy the capital unscathed. Had we simply overwhelmed them with force from the get-go and moved straight in, we would have been relaxing and drinking fine wines by now,” the colonel said, a bit disdainfully. 

The officer shrank back. He had been the one to propose the surprise attack in the first place, but of course, it was the colonel himself who had judged this plan of action to be the correct one, and had directed his men to proceed with it, so the officer couldn’t take all the blame. 

“All right, men, roll out!” 

After taking an extended break for lunch, the imperial troops began to move again. The only ones who had been provided meals—scraped together from the scanty food they had stored outside of the supply depots and the minuscule amount of wild grasses they had managed to harvest along the road—were the officers. For the rest of the soldiers, it was merely a long rest. 

Initially, they had planned to hunt wild animals and monsters along the way, but for some reason, they could not catch anything. No doubt, moving with so many men kicked up too much of a ruckus, the officers assumed, thinking nothing odd of the situation. 

*** 

“Gah!” 

“Gwaaaah!!!” 

The screams of soldiers rang out once more. 

“Damn it, these bastards are persistent!” The officer in command of the vanguard troops let out a cry of rage. 

Indeed, his men had just fallen into yet another trap. 

First, they had come across what they had thought was the usual sort of crude pit that a child would trick someone into, but at the bottom of the pit were sharp bamboo spikes, slathered with poison. Then, they had stumbled upon what looked to be bothersome little rocks and tried to kick them out of the way, only to find iron rods embedded in the ground—iron rods, which had broken the men’s toes. When they had tried to move a fallen tree that was blocking the road, and the men moved to put their hands under the trunk to lift it, they found the underside lined with innumerable thorns—naturally, covered in poison. When they tripped over an imperceptible wire, arrows came flying towards them, and they were assailed with great force by bamboo and shrubbery that had been bent for tension, with pointed stakes attached. 

Most of these tricks were crudely made, hastily and clumsily fashioned, so there were of course misfires. However, there were others along this gauntlet that were elaborately and skillfully crafted, and these were no laughing matter—there were times they took fatal damage head-on. Thanks to those traps in this latter category, they had to treat every one of these traps with caution, and they had no choice but to proceed with great care. 

Normally, in such a small fief as this, it would take them no more than a matter of hours to reach the capital from the border, but thanks to the traps, their movement was many times slower, and they still had a long way ahead of them. Having to make such a wild detour for the sake of getting water had not helped matters either. For the soldiers who were becoming overwhelmed with hunger and thirst, and would rather get to the capital as quickly as possible, all this was highly irritating. Of course, their irritation further clouded their attentiveness, causing them, yet again, to fall into a trap. 

When looking at their numbers as a whole, it seemed of little consequence if they lost a battle-ready man here or there, but that still did not mean that they could afford to go around ignoring the traps’ perils. And so, the average marching speed of the imperial forces fell to a halting crawl, less than even what a wobbling eighteen-month-old could muster… 

The requisition troops that they had sent back to the occupied lands a few days prior had already returned. The men had found each of the villages along the highways completely deserted, devoid of food and water. Furthermore, it was not until they arrived—bringing with them the barrels that they had picked up from the villages and filled with water from the river where the regiment had previously stopped—that they found that almost none of the water they had put into the barrels remained. 

Yet again, the bindings were warped, and the wooden panels were cracked with notches cut into them. Every single barrel had been compromised. 

*** 

“The imperial troops should be arriving about now,” said Reina. 

“Yes,” Pauline agreed. “We laid out plans for a lot of traps in that letter. Even if they couldn’t put them all together… I think they should be arriving now.” 

The two of them stood at the top of an elevation from which they could see the Ascham capital. As mentioned, there had been a secondary sheet in the letter that Mile delivered, which contained blueprints for all of the plans that the Ascham troops had utilized to build their traps. It seemed that those men had followed their instructions exactly. 

The imperial forces were exhausted, starving, and thirsty, and their usual cooperation was stunted by the discord sewn among them. Even so, the odds were still stacked against the Ascham forces. 

5,000 vs. 300. That was seventeen imperial soldiers for every Ascham man. No matter how weak they were, winning against a force seventeen times your own in number was simply not possible. Furthermore, no matter how exceptional the fighting abilities of the Order of the Crimson Blood may have been, 4 vs. 5,000 was still just a little too much to ask. 

Of course, if Mile were to get truly serious—if she were to fight without limits, without restraint—if she set out with the intent to slaughter every single one of those 5,000 men, then maybe, just maybe, it might not be so impossible. However, to do such a thing would leave Mile unable to retain a shred of happiness—with respect to neither her own mental health nor to international relations. 

300 vs. 5,000. 

4 vs. 5,000. 

Both were utterly unbeatable odds. 

So then, what of 300 + 4 vs. 5,000? 

No matter how strong they were, it would be difficult for just four people to cause a ruckus among 5,000 men and defeat them all. 

However, if those 5,000 men were weakened, and had already grown sloppy from the commotion caused by the four, and then 300 elite soldiers jumped into the fray…? 

It was for the sake of just such a possibility that the Order of the Crimson Blood had put all their efforts into undermining the enemy on so many fronts. Now, they were on the cusp of the final, decisive battle. They would strike the imperial soldiers from behind even as they faced off against the men of Ascham, who would keep their own capital at their backs. 

The imperial forces would not be setting a single foot in the capital! 

“They’re here. It’s the imperial army!” announced Mile. 

“So they are,” Reina agreed as the two lingered in the shadows of the trees, observing the highway. 

“I can see the imperial troops,” said Mavis, “but where are the Ascham soldiers?” 

There was silence. The four of them had all come to the same realization, but no one could drum up the nerve to put their concern into words. Finally, it was Mavis who voiced it. 

Silence fell again. Indeed, in between the capital and the advancing imperial forces, there was no sign of the Ascham army… In fact, there was no sign of the Ascham army anywhere at all. 

“Wh-wh-wh-wh-what do we do…?” 

“Wh-wh-wh-wh-what should we do now…?” 

“C-c-c-c-calm down, everyone…” 

“That’s awfully strange…” 

Reina, Mile, and Mavis were babbling nervously; Pauline alone remained calm. 

“I know for certain that we wrote in the letter that they should remove all of the people and supplies from the villages along the enemy’s approach route, and that the final battle would take place at the capital. Even if this place is called a ‘capital,’ it’s still really just a little country town, not a walled city. The lord’s manor is just an estate, not a castle or a fortress, so it’s not the sort of place where siege tactics would come into play. Judging from what happened before, I doubt they would ignore any part of a letter from Mile, and they’ve done pretty well in following all of our other instructions up until now…” 

The other three were silent. Pauline was exactly right. They had all gone over the letter fastidiously before sending it, so there could be no mistake. They scratched their heads as they tried to imagine what the absence of the army might mean, but they came up with nothing. 

They could not possibly have abandoned the capital and run. 

“Oh! The imperial army is sending out a recon unit!” said Mavis. 

Sure enough, the Albarnians, too, had found the lack of any military defense peculiar and had sent out a reconnaissance team of around thirty men to investigate. The men had just entered the capital and proceeded a short distance when… 

There was a shout as arrows and spears and rocks suddenly came raining down from out of the windows up on the rooftops. The imperial soldiers fell one by one. And then, men armed with melee weapons came pouring from the doorways. 

“What…?” 

It was no surprise that the girls should be so bewildered. The men that appeared from the buildings were not armed with swords and spears, but with kitchen knives, hoes, what appeared to be mop handles, and the like—numerous objects that were clearly not weapons suitable for a soldier in any professional sense. 

“Most of those men aren’t soldiers, are they? They’re just citizens of the capital and the villagers who took refuge there,” said Pauline. 

“Ah.” Suddenly, something occurred to Mile. 

“It’s urban warfare. When Juno read that the final battle would be at the capital, instead of interpreting it as a battle taking place in front of the capital, defending it to the last, he must have thought that we meant that the battle itself would take place in the capital…” 

“Wh-what are you talking about?!” Reina sputtered. 

Mile explained: 

“On an open battlefield, with no obstacles, the side that has the greatest number has the overwhelming advantage—even if it’s an enemy that’s been weakened a fair bit. So, Juno decided to move the battle to a place where it’s difficult to leverage that advantage. You can’t carry on a battle with any large numbers in a place full of obstacles, with obstructed views, and in narrow back alleys. On the contrary, the Ascham side knows the placement of all the buildings and the lay of the land— and they can get all of the peasants involved in the fighting…” 

“Th-that’s ridiculous! Fighting is a job for soldiers! What are they thinking making normal people engage with enemy forces?!” Mavis shouted. “If an army is defeated and a battle ends, then the country that claims a land and the people that govern it may change, but the citizens still live on. That is the nature of battle—of war! At this rate, all of these civilians—the wives and the elderly, the sick and invalid—all of them will all get caught up in the fight and die!” 

Mavis could protest all she wanted, but the wheels were already in motion. 

“That’s what true, all-out war is,” Mile said softly. “War doesn’t care if you’re a civilian or a soldier. It’s not something that takes place just between governments and armies. Every citizen of a nation contributes to the war effort, whether it’s economically, through labor, or in some other way. And sometimes, the contribution they make is their life,” Mile finished. This world was not one where such notions had yet to become commonplace. 

Pauline spoke. “The poison was too effective.” 

“What?” 

“We leveraged the fact that they had mistaken you for your mother, risen to godliness. They must have thought that no matter what method they used, they were certain to win. They likely told the civilians something similar.” 

“So…this is all my fault…” 

Mile began to pale. 

“No, Mile, that’s not true. I was the one who proposed that you write that in the letter in the first place! I hadn’t expected them to go as far as this, so I failed to include any language prohibiting it. The fault is all mine. And so…” 

“So?” 

“So I will take responsibility. If I run straight into the enemy lines and spread my ‘hot’ magic all around, then I can probably cause enough confusion to—” 

What she proposed was a suicide mission. No matter how much chaos she planted amongst the soldiers, it was a gambit from which there would be no return. 

“Permission denied!” Mile swiftly shot down Pauline’s harried words. 

“The lands we stand on are the property of Viscount Ascham and one named Adele von Ascham. These are my lands, and those are my people. Therefore, they are my responsibility! And furthermore…” 

A wicked grin flashed across Mile’s face. 

“Everyone’s going to call Juno a liar if the Goddess herself doesn’t appear at this final battle. Consider the poor man’s reputation! I’ll be right back!” 

Whoosh! 

The next moment, Mile had vanished. 

“Mile…?” 

“Mile…? Well, all right, let’s follow…” 

“Okay! Let’s get ready to run!” 

“What?” 

Reina’s enthusiastic reply shocked the other two. However, Reina gave no pause, continuing with a casual lilt, “Mile’s getting serious. If we go now, we’ll just get in her way. Plus, there’s nothing else we can do, is there? Mile’s gonna blow it somehow and come running back before we know it, all, ‘Oh nooooo, I messed up again!’ Am I right?!” 

“…You’re totally right,” said Mavis. 

“Th-that’s probably true…” Pauline agreed. 

Mavis gazed off into the distance and then spoke, “Anyway, it seems like she’s getting along just fine down there…” 

“Lattice Power Barrieeeeeeer!!!” 

With a lattice barrier surrounding her body in a one-meter radius, Mile went charging through the middle of the imperial soldiers at high speed. 

“Geh!” 

“Gah!” 

“Waaah!” 

She continued plowing forward, knocking soldiers back one by one, all the way to the front—the space between the soldiers and the capital. Once she reached that point, she stopped, turning on a dime, and started that . Yes, that . 

“ Goddess Formation Mile, transformation activate! Refract and diffuse the light. Gather moisture into ice! Neutralize gravity and maintain formation…and complete! Final Fusion!!!” 

Glimmering wings of ice appeared behind Mile’s back, and a glowing ring of light formed above her head, both locking onto her. 

“Cavorite, go!” 

With the gravity around her negated, Mile kicked off, floating around ten meters up into the air. There she paused for a breather, staring upwards and huffing with exertion. 

Ugh, this is already getting out of hand! I’m wearing a mask, sure, but that doesn’t mean that no one’s gonna figure out who I am. And on the off chance that someone does guess my identity… 

Why, if someone figures out who I am because of this, I’ll have no chance of living a normal, happy life ever again! 

Realizing this, Mile was already at her wits’ end. 

She vibrated the air so that her voice would reach every last one of the imperial soldiers’ ears. 

“FOOLISH CREATURES!” 

“Wh-what the heck is that?!” 

“A bird?” 

“A wyvern?” 

“No, i-it’s…” 

“A g-goddess…” 

The Albarnian troops were utterly shaken. Her voice booming, Mile began to speak again. 

“Justice without power is meaningless, but power without justice is a grievous sin. And thus, as your goddess, I render upon you the punishment of death. Vile sinners, repent!” 

Already, things were a huge mess. In her desperation, Mile began running through the relevant entries in her encyclopedia of phrases that she had always wanted to say. 

“Sh-she’s a fake! There’s got to be some kind of trick here!” One man, who appeared to be an officer, shouted, trying to placate his disturbed subordinates. Yet, trick or not, there was no building or tall tree in the vicinity from which one could suspend a person in midair, and things such as cranes and piano wire had yet to be invented in this world. Moreover, most people in this world did believe in such things as gods and devils. Even this officer would never dare say that there was no such thing as a goddess. 

All the same, he could not be expected to direct the army to pack up and leave just because a supposed goddess told them to. If he went back with a report like that, it would see him decapitated or hanged. Of course, such matters were no business of the rest of the soldiers. Punishing commanders and officers who could not handle the pressures of their job was one thing, but no official would dare to levy capital punishment on 5,000 soldiers. 

Thus, the soldiers stood where they were, refusing to take another step. 

“Men who would invade without issuing a declaration of war are no soldiers, no army. They are villains—brethren of evil! Such foul creatures would never be welcomed into the warrior’s haven of Valhalla upon their deaths. The only invitation you lowlife brigands shall ever receive is a one-way ticket straight to perdition! Now, accept your divine judgement!” 

Just then, a magical formation in the shape of the head of a wolf appeared in midair. From its open mouth, an enormous sound rang out over the imperial soldiers. 

“Raucous Thunder!” 

A divine, punishing thunderclap released from the wolf in the sky rained down upon all foes: Raucous Thunder. 

Flash! Ka-booom! 

Silence fell. 

The space around was filled with an almost terrifying silence, and the Albarnian troops stood, mute. 

The people of the capital, who had heard everything thanks to Mile’s sound vibration magic, were equally silent. 

The only sound that rang out, both from outside of the capital and within, was the deafening quiet of fear. Some people sunk in terror and awe; others’ eyes shone with hope and reverence. Yet everyone ceased moving and stared up into the sky. 

What do I do now? Mile fretted. 

No one moved a muscle. No one said a word. 

I can’t just keep floating here forever… 

Currently, she was waiting for the imperial soldiers to turn tail and retreat. She certainly did not really intend to strike all of them dead with lightning. However, not a single one had made a move… 

When Mile looked behind her, towards the Ascham troops, she suddenly saw something particularly visible from her elevated vantage point. 

To the north side of the capital, on the opposite side from the Albarnians’ approach, was a mass of soldiers, already nearly upon the city. Their numbers were far more vast than those of the enemies to the south: a sea of soldiers four, maybe five times the numbers of the imperial regiment, perhaps even more. Considering that they were approaching from the north, it was quite impossible that they would be soldiers of the Empire. Which would mean that… 

This group was the Royal Army of Brandel—a conglomeration of the king’s own men and the forces of each noble’s lands. In fact, Mavis had spotted them far more quickly than Mile, who had her back turned to the capital while she had been up in the air. 

“Wh-what…? But Pauline and Mavis both told me that they probably wouldn’t be sending out their troops just yet! Did those guys just speed up? They must have just noticed the Albarnian soldiers… Guh! Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap . Never mind the Albarnians—I can’t let them notice meeeeeeeeeeeee!!!” 

Mile muttered aloud to herself, but thankfully was no longer utilizing her sound vibrating magic, so no one else could hear her. Panicking, she descended straight down at once, plowing back through the imperial ranks and running straight back to meet up with Reina and the others. 

“G-guys, we’ve gotta go, r-r-r-right now…” 

“Time to retreat!” Reina directed, cutting in. 

“Okay!!” shouted Mavis and Pauline. 

Mile, a beat behind, mumbled, “Okay…” 

Thus, the so-called Order of the Crimson Blood vacated the scene at high speed, running off to the south. Meanwhile, on the battlefield they left behind… 

“Colonel! Enemy forces have been spotted to the north of the capital!” said an officer, relaying a semaphore message from the lookouts stationed up on an elevation, keeping an eye on the status of the battlefield and capital. 

“What?! But all of the Ascham army is holed up in the capital.” The colonel, still not quite recovered from the so-called goddess who had vanished as suddenly as she had appeared, expressed his disbelief. 

“Th-that’s not it, sir! It’s not the Ascham army. They think it might be the royal army! We haven’t been able to yet confirm the number of soldiers yet, but there are at least 20,000 and possibly far more!” 

“Wh-what did you say?!” 

If they were to rush in right now, at full speed and at full force, then they might be able to make it into the capital before the royal army arrived. However, if they were to then position themselves in the capital, where the three hundred men of the Ascham army were stationed, they would be surrounded by aggressive townspeople, trying to face off against an army many times their size. That would be a suicide mission. 

Furthermore, the capital was not a fortified citadel. There were no walls surrounding it, no castles. With their supplies so diminished and even their archers short on arrows, there were few pros and many cons to entering a place like that. At the very least, the circumstances were not sufficient to satisfy the “Three Times” Rule of Offense—that one needed to possess an offense that was three times stronger than the enemy’s defense in order to prevail. 

Furthermore, fights had already been breaking out among the imperial soldiers, they’d barely had anything to eat in the past few days, and the water in their canteens had dried up ages ago. Their mages, having had to use their magic to come up with any drops of water they possibly could, were now in no state to do much more than move. Troop morale, physical condition, and loyalty were at an all-time low—there was no way that the Albarnians could take on an army of this size in their condition. 

“Why?! Our analysts all predicted that the Crown would never respond immediately, that they would leave all their weak, remote territories to rot and set up their defenses just outside of them. They said that they would never act until they were completely ready to move! That was why we never mobilized any troops outside of this regiment and why we made it clear that this was not a full-blown play for the capital of Brandel—that intel was supposed to be reliable! Don’t tell me that they figured out the second stage of our plan for when we would face off against the kingdom’s counteroffensive?!” 

Trying to forecast an enemy’s movements boiled down to little more than personal opinion. Even when one was in possession of completely reliable information about the enemy and an accurate understanding of their psychology, one’s predictions could still be way off. Needless to say, there were also many instances where the analysts possessed insufficient or incomplete information, and their enemies might try to outwit them—or they themselves might act on a sort of wishful thinking, assuming the circumstances to be in their favor. 

“We have visual confirmation of the enemy vanguard! They’re bearing flags of the armies of each noble household of Brandel, and—yes! Those are the king’s colors, and the royal coat of arms itself!” the officer shouted. 

The colonel was floored. 

“ Why? Why would they come at us with this much force, just for the sake of some insignificant little fief out on the borderlands?! The royal family, you say? I can’t imagine the king spearheading those troops himself—could it be the first prince? The second prince is still too young, but would they really risk their crown prince, a sharp young man who carries all of the kingdom’s hopes for the future, on a battle like this? Inconceivable! They would never do such a thing!” 

Seeing the state into which the colonel had fallen, one officer, already resigned to incurring his superior’s wrath, spoke up. “Colonel, your orders, sir! We haven’t any time to delay!” 

Whether he was going to tell them to attack or to retreat, he had to do it quickly. He could not simply let his men stand around and be run down by the enemy. Even if the order given was for a reckless assault that was certain to see them all annihilated, a soldier abided by his commander’s word. This was the resolve that shone in the officer’s eyes as he looked to the colonel. 

“Soldiers, retreat! About face, on the double! Withdraw from the battlefield immediately!” 

The officer looked at him peculiarly. It would not have been at all surprising for this particular colonel to instead give the order to attack. Realizing this, the colonel scrunched up his face in self-deprecation and muttered, “I don’t care if historians of future generations label me an ‘idiot,’ but, ‘the fool who sentenced 5,000 men to a pointless death’ is a little bit much…” 

Then, he raised his voice and bellowed, “Quickly, will you?! If we don’t move out of here faster than the enemies arrive, they’ll catch up with us from behind, and we’ll be wiped out! Permission is granted to discard anything you don’t need for the return trip. Now, hurry!!!” 

The officers took off running in various directions. If they abandoned all of their weapons and supplies, there was at least a slim chance that they might be able to escape from the enemy army, which was still fully laden, with a supply unit in tow. As long as they could maintain enough of a distance for them not to be taken captive… 

*** 

“Seems like we’ve bought ourselves a fair bit of distance. Let’s change directions now and start heading east. If we went south from here, we would have to go straight through the Empire, which would mean keeping the the imperial army on our tails the whole time.” 

The Order of the Crimson Blood—or rather, the girls once again known as the Crimson Vow now that their mercenary duties were finished—had been moving south to avoid the armies of both Brandel and Albarn, but now it was about time for a change of plan. 

Pauline, however, raised an objection to Reina’s proposal. 

“Just a minute now. There’s something I’d like to take care of first. The imperial soldiers won’t have any time to detour to the river, and at this rate it’s possible they’ll end up dying of thirst. There’s no way that the water that a few low-ranking mages could produce would ever be enough to meet the needs of 5,000 men, along with their horses, who require even more… Most soldiers aren’t necessarily villains or criminals, and I’d like to help them out a bit…” 

It was rare to have mages fighting on the front lines at all, along with the other basic recruits. Anyone who had sufficient magical ability to use it in combat would not accept the position of common foot soldier, where the danger outweighed the pay. Even in times of emergency conscription, they could still file a petition for wages, and if they ever willingly took a position in the military, they were welcomed at the rank of officer, at least. In other words, there were very few mages on the scene in this instance. 

Furthermore, the amount of water that could be produced via magic had a known limit. The amount of water that a human requires each day is around two liters. For 5,000 men, that was ten tons of water. Plus, every horse needs around thirty liters of water a day—the same amount as fifteen men. The elites of the army were much more likely to favor one horse over fifteen foot soldiers. Even if you were to bring together all those who could use enough utility magic to produce very small amounts of water, there was simply no way to compile enough magic to summon up ten-odd tons of water every single day. Never mind that drawing that much water all in one place would suck the air dry, creating an inhospitable desert. 

Those who could use their magic for combat were also quite unlikely to want to use all their magical strength on something as trivial as gathering water. That was as good as ordering a soldier on the battlefield to abandon his sword, and there were few mages who would ever accept such a command. At best you might ask them to relinquish half of their magical stores to the task, or two-thirds at most. 

In other words, to keep driving the soldiers on recklessly, without even enough water to function, meant that it was only a matter of time until corpses began to fall. 

“ Whaaat?! ” the other three screeched, staring wide-eyed at Pauline. 

“Who are you?!” 

“Are you an enemy mage in disguise? Where’s the real Pauline? What did you do with her?!” 

“Reina, Mavis, keep away from her!” 

“ Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wha… ” 

The three then found themselves on the receiving end of a tirade from a massively enraged Pauline… 

*** 

“Wh-what did you say?!” 

The crown prince Adalbert, who was in charge of the Brandel royal army, was in shock. 

“Well, your Highness, it was just as I said. A goddess manifested and granted us her protection. It was the spirit of the late daughter of the true line of Ascham, ascended after her death for the sake of her… Uhhoohoo…” 

Juno, head of the Ascham military, began to weep. 

Leaving the pursuit of the imperial army to the royal and noble forces, the Ascham troops had stayed behind to aid in the defense and restoration of their own lands, supporting the villagers in rebuilding their fields and homes. Currently, forces had been dispatched to each village, and Juno stayed behind to give his report to Adalbert, while the captains of each unit tended to their own men. Prince Adalbert, in turn, left the duties of pursuit to his subordinate generals and remained behind in the capital of Ascham as well. 

There were a number of reasons why Adalbert had come to act as the leader of his father’s army. First off, to have a counterassault led by the crown prince himself would serve to show the Empire just how serious they were. Secondly, his authority would help to maintain command over all of the lords’ armies. If things went south, there was a chance that some grubby marquis or other might try to butt in and wrest control, but with Adalbert himself serving as commander, such presumptuous behavior was unlikely. 

Plus, wiping out the imperial forces, who never showed any real signs of planning an invasion, with a number that was many times that of their own was a simple task. Upon doing so, they could boast that they were a country that protected even its most outlying citizens. It was a just cause, it would win them the support of these borderlands, and it earned a bit of clout for Adalbert, who had had no practical military experience until now. 

Of course, given the dangers of this task, and the trouble that might result from Adalbert taking an injury in a place like this, the prince was not actually allowed to take charge of the pursuit. Instead, it was determined that he should “give direction from the capital of Ascham, which had held up so valiantly during the initial action.” 

It was an utterly absurd situation all around—but of course, that fact had also been taken into consideration. 

Had this territory been the domain of any other noble family, then the imperial analysts’ predictions would have been correct. The kingdom would not have rushed into battle at great pace, underprepared, yet overflowing with resolve. Instead, they would have undergone a far lengthier process of preparations and then made a heartfelt appeal to each of the noble houses on the grounds of creating a united front in the face of the Empire’s act of aggression—all that before they would have even considered making a move. 

Indeed, on first hearing about the invasion, the king had appeared mildly surprised but otherwise kept his composure. However, when he was told of the place that was being invaded, he instantly became distracted and enraged. He ordered an emergency dispatch at once, without so much as holding a conference, or even stopping to listen to anyone else’s opinion on the matter. 

Normally, the prime minister, cabinet members, and other high-ranking nobles would have been expected to raise a conscientious objection to the their king making such a unilateral decision, but for some reason they all immediately assented without a single protest, setting out at once to assemble the Royal Army—an emergency assemblage of the king’s troops, under direct control of the king, along with a royal dispatch from each of the noble houses. 

It would have been one thing if the kingdom itself was in danger, a neighboring country trying to nip off some little borderland would not have been a very pressing matter for anyone beyond those impacted directly—i.e., the people of the threatened fief themselves and their neighbors. 

Of course, a counterassault would eventually be mounted so that the invaders did not try to worm their way in while the rest of the country sat on their hands, but the lords would take their sweet time about it, and the households farthest away would be inclined not to send any support at all until the very last moment, when it would absolutely unconscionable for them to do otherwise, at which point they would send as few men as they possibly could. 

If they were far away, the best they could probably expect was a monetary reward afterward. It was not as though they had the chance to expand their territory, or even better, win promotion to a higher noble rank. Therefore, they would be slow to respond to the royal decree, finding all sorts of excuses not to comply—or rather, they should have been, but in this case, for some reason even the highest-ranking nobles had rushed at lightning speed to dispatch their standing armies in the name of the king’s endeavor. Once this fact was known, even the smaller houses, who had dawdled as always, swiftly followed suit. They didn’t know the reason behind it, but they did know that if they failed to comply it would look quite bad for them. Anyone who did not have the sense to intuit at least that much was not fit to serve as a noble. 

Adalbert, of course, was fully aware of the circumstances. As much as the Goddess had cautioned them against spreading any word of her sighting, in an open place like that, with so many witnesses present, someone was bound to talk sooner or later. There were those who were out for the money, and those who were very faithful to those who they served, and those who thought that the wrath of a benevolent-seeming goddess was probably no big deal… 

Of course, the fact that Adalbert knew exactly what was going on was just one more reason why he had been given the command of the king’s army. Because he had been far away, he had neither gotten a clear view of Mile’s ‘Goddess’ display, nor heard the message that she had broadcast with her magic. However, upon hearing the word ‘Goddess,’ the prince immediately lit up. 

A goddess…and a daughter of the house of Ascham! We’ve found her! The living avatar and holder of the Goddess’s favor, the holy maiden Adele!!! 

Apparently, the commander of the Ascham troops was convinced that Adele was dead, but Adalbert, of course, knew better. A girl with a goddess residing within her could never die so easily. 

And now, our country will have the protection of the goddess who speaks through Lady Adele as well… 

“Lady Mabel surely possessed sufficient purity to have become a deity, but to think that she would still be thinking of us…” 

“What? But the daughter of Ascham is named Adele, isn’t she?” 

“Hm? That’s the name of the young heiress who went missing, Lady Mabel’s daughter. The one who became a goddess and granted us her protection was her late mother, Lady Mabel.” 

“Huh…? O-oh, I see, it was Lady Mabel, the goddess, speaking through Adele’s body then. That makes sense…” 

That assumption was at least one that Adalbert understood. However… 

“No, the form she assumed was Lady Mabel herself.” 

“What? Then where is her daughter, Adele?” 

“Well, a year and a half ago, Lady Adele vanished from her academy in the royal capital, and we haven’t heard from her since.” 

“Wh…?” 

Later on, an investigation was held, and the former staff of the Ascham manor, who had worked there for many years leading up to the events of four and half years before, gave testimony. “That was our Lady Mabel, no doubt about it. She appeared to us just as she looked when she was a girl, in her most precious days. Besides, the way she was conducting herself was outside of all common sense. That could not have been anyone but our dear lady!” 

Indeed, until she was eight years old, Adele had little contact with anyone beyond her immediate family, her wet nurse, and her nanny. After her mother and grandfather passed away, even those two were taken away from her, replaced with new staff who were introduced to “the sole daughter of the house of Ascham”—the usurper’s daughter, Prissy. Hardly any of them had any direct contact with Adele at all. 

After that, as Prissy was introduced again and again as the Ascham heiress to outsiders, memories of Adele began to fade from everyone’s consciousness. Even those who were fully aware that Prissy was not the rightful heir could not be expected to remember the face of a young girl who they had only glimpsed now and then from afar so many years ago. Plus, the wet nurse had already left the capital, and the nanny was now employed minding some other family’s daughter. As a result, neither had been included in the investigation. 

However, with Mabel, it was different. 

Mabel, who had possessed such many and varied nicknames as “the garden that blooms all year round,” and “the girl whose very eyes can make you happy.” “Mabel the Tomboy,” “the girl who thinks of crazy things,” “Mabel the Dandelion,” and so on and so forth, had made quite the strong impression on most citizens of the fief, particularly with the way she conducted herself during what were known as “Lady Mabel’s Wandering Years,” when she was about twelve or thirteen. 

It had not been readily apparent until she was around eight years old, but in the years since, Mile had come to resemble her mother to a striking degree. This of course included that splendid silver hair of hers, which appeared amongst the women of the Ascham bloodline, every now and then. 

Furthermore, thanks to her father and stepmother, who had them burned, not a single portrait of Adele remained. What instead hung upon the walls of the manor were innumerable portraits of her stepsister, Prissy, hastily drawn up by an amateur painter. 

In other words, when the people of Ascham looked upon Mile—or rather, Adele, as she was now—the only personage that came to mind was the late daughter of the house of Ascham, Lady Mabel von Ascham. 

The fact that she had grown up since then, that she had gotten married? None of that mattered. No matter what age she was, in the hearts of her people, Mabel was, “our dear young Lady Mabel.” 

And now, she was Lady Mabel, the goddess. 

Even including those who had seen her right up close, there was not a single person who doubted that the goddess who had manifested in order to protect Ascham was Lady Mabel herself. 

Meanwhile, Adalbert, who thought he would be able to confirm the whereabouts of the avatar of the goddess, Adele von Ascham, was in distress. 

Wait, so it wasn’t Adele who appeared here? Or is it that her mother Mabel was the goddess residing in her? Or did her mother become a goddess and then ask a different goddess to protect her daughter? I don’t get it! What should I do…? 

*** 

“By the way, Mavis, did you say that you saw the crest of the royal family among all the flags of the Brandel army stationed in the capital?” asked Mile. 

“Yeah! For someone training to be a knight, it’s crucial to be able to distinguish the flags of the different royal families, even if they’re from other countries. It’s pretty unlikely that his Majesty himself would be out here heading up his army, but it’d probably be one of his sons, or someone along those lines, in charge of his forces—and as such, serving as the commander of the whole of the national army,” Mavis confidently replied. 

“Wh-why would they do all that?” 

“I don’t know. As far as both Pauline and I are concerned, such a thing should be unthinkable… Still, there’s no doubting it. That was most certainly the crest of the royal family. I, Mavis, would stake my own name upon it!” 

“Wh…?” 

Mile was nearly speechless. 

It was not that she could not believe what Mavis had said, however—an entirely different matter was now swirling around in Mile’s brain. 

C-crest of the Royal Family… M-Mavis-sama… 

*** 

The imperial troops were booking it with all they had. They set such a desperate pace that even calling it a forced march would be an understatement. That said, they were not expecting to have to fight when they reached their destination, and if any troops caught up with them, they would die. In circumstances like this, they had no choice but to muster up the last dregs of their energy. 

As they already had no intention of fighting, all that mattered right now was getting back home. The imperial soldiers, who had been granted permission by their commanding officers to ditch anything that was unnecessary—and who had already had many of their consumable goods stolen to begin with—were now quite agile, so much so that outrunning an army that was fully laden with equipment and supplies might not be a total impossibility…if the soldiers had been in top form, that was. 

Already they had been traveling for days, subsisting on the few morsels of food that they had been carrying when the supply depots were ransacked, along with the scant amount of water that the mages had been able to produce, and whatever animals and vegetables they had managed to gather along the road. However, most of the soldiers had not had much luck with hunting and gathering, and the water that they had all drawn into their own canteens back at the river had long since dried up. Furthermore, their hasty retreat left them no time to double back to a water source. If they did that, the pursuing Brandel forces were certain to catch up with them and their capture would be assured. 

So the soldiers plodded forward, their feet moving almost automatically, as they suffered both thirst and starvation. At the very least, if they could leave Ascham and make it into Cesdol, which lay along the border with the Empire, there would be villages where they could find food and wells. All they had to do was meet back up with the troops they had sent ahead to maintain control of Cesdol, who could split their remaining supplies with them. 

With these thoughts in their dazed, half-conscious minds, the vanguard troops plodded on, but when they lifted their downcast faces and set their gazes ahead, they saw before them… 

…A tent . And in front of the tent, a long table. Behind the table were three girls seated on stools. Behind them, between the girls and the tent, were barrels and crates. 

Upon the tent, the entry flap of which was closed, hung a wooden sign: 

Traveling Restaurant – House of the Holy Maiden. 

From all the men, there rang out a chorus of disbelief. 

“Do you have any water?” asked one soldier, standing before the long table, his voice shaking. 

One of the girls, who was quite developed but of questionable age, replied with a grin. “Yes, water will be five silver a cup. Ale is one half-gold, and wine is two.” 

“That’s expensive!!!” the men shouted. 

As you may recall, five silver pieces was equivalent to roughly 5,000 yen in modern Japanese money. One half-gold piece was an extravagant 10,000 yen. 

“That’s way too expensive!” a soldier screamed, but the girl simply replied, “Supply and demand. That’s one of the most basic tenets of commerce. If you don’t like the price, you don’t have to buy it. It’s as simple as that. The only patrons we’re interested in serving are those who agree that the price is right. Plus, consider how difficult it must be for a group of young ladies to carry this water all the way to a battlefield to sell it, would you? Do you really think that we could sell this water, which took us days to transport, for the same price that you would find in a city marketplace—all the while keeping in mind the risk of being embroiled in battle or attacked by soldiers?” 

“Uh…” 

The man could not muster a rebuttal. 

“B-but still…” 

“Gimme water!” another voice cried, cutting off the first man, who was haltingly trying to haggle for a bargain. 

“You can pinch yer pennies all you want and die with those coins janglin’ around in yer purse, but I’ll gladly buy this water that these girls risked their lives to lug all the way here for our sakes! If five silver’s all it takes to keep livin’ then that’s cheap as dirt, far as I see it!” 

With that, the man slammed five silver pieces down upon the table. 

“Of course! Coming right up!” 

The girl went straight back to the barrels and drew a cup of water, which she handed to the man. 

“Water! Glorious water…” 

The soldier glugged the water down in a gallant fashion, not leaving a single drop behind in the cup. After drinking so joyously, he appeared reluctant to step away, muttering, “Wish I could have another cup, but it wouldn’t be right for me to drink up all the water myself. There’s limits, after all. I better let someone else get in here…” 

Five more silver pieces were then smacked loudly down upon the table. 

“Water!” 

“M-me too!” 

“A-ale for me!” 

“Move, ya bastards! If ya ain’t buyin’, get outta the way!” 

One after the other the men came rushing in, shoving aside the soldier who had complained about the prices. 

“Of course, of course, don’t you worry. I wasn’t the only one carrying this water here, so we have more in stock. No rushing, no pushing! Just line up nicely, please. After all, if you push too much, the table’s going to fall over, and all the water will spill!” 

Truthfully, ale has diuretic properties, and so really, all it can do is cause further dehydration. However, the girls had no idea that this was the case and had included it in the options out of ignorance, not malice. 

As the three girls busied themselves selling water, one of the soldiers looked up with a look of sudden realization. “Traveling Restaurant, House of the Holy Maiden…” The man then turned to Pauline and asked, “S-say, if this is a ‘restaurant,’ that mean y’all are sellin’ food, too?” 

Upon hearing this question, the others around him stopped moving and fell silent. As a deafening quiet swept over the area, Pauline grinned and replied, “Well, naturally.” 

The silence seemed to crackle with excitement. 

“Wh-whatcha got?” one soldier asked in a trembling voice. 

“Um, rice porridge and hard tack, jerky, vegetable soup, and a few other things. One half-gold for everything.” 

“That’s expensive!!!” 

Both the food and drink flew off the figurative shelves. The men who had been walking behind the first group pitched forward as the men behind them stopped, and a non-commissioned officer, veins popping in his forehead, shoved past them to investigate. When he saw what was going on, however, he immediately took charge. 

“Well, don’t just stand there! Hurry up and buy your food, and then keep on walking! The guys behind you have gotta eat, too! Plus, the royal army’s still hot on our tails. As soon as you can move, get going!” 

With the officer’s direction, the operation began to run much more smoothly. 

Those who requested it could have their canteens filled, instead of drinking the water right there—that was easy enough to achieve with a funnel. Those who received porridge and soup were directed to make a big lap around the area of the tent while they ate, return the bowls, and proceed on, a gambit designed so as not to crowd up the table where the girls were selling. That was an NCO for you, always thinking on his feet. Naturally, those who carried their own cups had those filled up instead and then kept on walking. 

“We can’t thank you enough. Thanks to your help, most of these men will make it back home alive. You brave, brave girls have our eternal gratitude,” said the officer. “It seems like you’ll be out of stock pretty soon, so I suggest that you run away as fast as you can before the royal army finds you.” 

Pauline glanced behind her. Sure enough, most of the barrels and crates were nearly empty. 

“Oh. You two, if you would?” 

“On it!” 

On cue, Reina and Mavis rushed into the tent and carried out more barrels and crates. 

“Wh…?” 

They traveled back and forth from the tent countless times, each time going away with an empty container and coming back with a full one. 

“Don’t worry, we still have plenty more food and water,” said Pauline. “Wherever there are those suffering from hunger and thirst—whether it’s on the battlefield or in the depths of Hell—all you have to do is call on us, and we’ll be there in a flash! Because, we are…” 

Reina and Mavis rushed to Pauline’s sides, and the three of them struck a snappy pose, reciting as one, “The Traveling Restaurant: House of the Holy Maiden!!!” 

There were no explosions or colored smoke bombs this time. 

The flap of the tent, meanwhile, opened just an inch, and Mile peeked out from within, grinding her teeth. Thanks to the number of people to whom she had already revealed herself, she was relegated to the tent, assigned with retrieving enough goods from her inventory to fill the barrels and crates. Even if she were to wear a mask, it would still be too dangerous to let anyone see her face at this point. Still, she watched the other three with envy. 

“S-sure…” 

Meanwhile, the officer stood frozen and slack-jawed before the girls. 

*** 

“Those girls really were awfully brave,” the officer muttered as he walked alongside his subordinates. 

Those wonderful girls, who provided our escaping soldiers with food and water yesterday at their traveling restaurant… Their prices were a bit steep, but considering how they risked their lives to carry those items all the way there, I can’t complain. It’s just like they said, really: it’s supply and demand. No one would ever complain about the difference in price between buying something in the kingdom’s capital versus buying the same thing out in a remote village, after all. This is the same principle. 

They carried that food and water all the way there, just for us, while the royal army was pursuing us, risking their lives. Honestly, it’s just like their shop name suggests—they may as well be holy maidens. 

Are they girls of our nation who followed after our army? Or are they the daughters of former Albarnians who married into families here? Either way, they are allies of our soldiers, and treasured friends. 

With these thoughts in mind, the officer stopped suddenly as the men ahead of him came to a halt, the soldiers once again blocking the road. 

“What are you all doing?! You’re causing a traffic…” 

The officer started to shout but trailed off. He could not believe what he was seeing. 

It was a familiar tent, with a familiar table, three familiar girls, and a familiar sign… 

Traveling Restaurant – House of the Holy Maiden, Shop No. 2 

“You’re kidding me!” 

This time, however, ale and wine had disappeared from their menu. Apparently, they had not sold very much yesterday. 

“Hey, can I ask you a couple of things?” the officer inquired, rushing up to the three familiar girls who sat at that familiar table before the familiar tent selling food and drink. 

“My, you’re that helpful fellow from yesterday. What is it, then?” asked the red-haired girl. 

“Just how many of the men of our army did you girls get around to serving yesterday? Instead of selling to us again, I’d rather you sell to the rest of the guys who didn’t get a chance to buy anything yet, if you can…” 

“Oh? But we kept selling until the end!” 

The officer thought that the girl appeared to not quite be getting the point, so he clarified, “That’s not what I meant. I’m asking how many of our men you managed to sell to before you ran out of stock.” 

After giving directions to increase the efficiency of sales and ordering the soldiers not to linger around the tent, the officer had gone ahead with his men and had not stayed behind to determine this answer for himself. 

“I’m telling you,” said the girl, “we kept selling until the end. We stayed open until the very last line of soldiers showed up.” 

“Wha…?” 

The amount that these girls could have carried could not possibly have been sufficient to achieve such results. If they could do such a thing, then that meant that their entire army’s supply units, wagons and all, could have been replaced with just a handful of “maidens.” 

The officer fell silent. There were so many things he wished to say and so many things he wished to ask. However, there was one, most burning question that he had for the trio. 

“What is that?” 

The officer was pointing to a fourth, girl-like form, which stood apart from the three girls selling at the table. 

The reason that the form was “girl- like ” was that the small figure wore upon its head a headdress of childish make, which resembled nothing so much as the head of an ass, on top of which were figures of a dog, a cat, and a chicken. They were singing an out-of-key tune and playing an instrument the likes of which the officer had never seen. 

Soo-soo-Sook! Ikhut-eigh! 

“Ah, that… Apparently, that’s the song that you must sing if you’re going to sell water—or so she says,” said the redhead, seeming equally perplexed. 

“Well then, what of those shabby clothes?” asked the officer. 

The other three girls were properly dressed, so this clearly was not a matter of them lacking money. 

The redhead, replied, looking troubled, “She said that you have to wear those kind of clothes if you’re selling water outdoors. But I mean, that’s something that she’s gotten herself fixated on, so that’s really none of our concern. She kept insisting that it was a ‘stalesuit,’ clothes that’ve gotten old that you don’t plan on keeping much longer…” 

This was making less and less sense by the minute. 

“W-well then, what’s up with that hat and those dolls on her head?” 

“She kept going on about ‘The Fremen Town Musicians’… Look, stop asking! Please don’t ask me anything else! We have no idea what’s going on here, either!” 

Both the redhead and the other two girls, who had kept the line moving this whole time, looked rather concerned. Any more than this would be an impediment to their sales. That meant slowing down the army’s pace of retreat. Plus, today it seemed that the line was moving smoothly from the outset, so there was no need for the officer’s assistance. He couldn’t continue interfering with their business just to satisfy his own curiosity. And so, he gave up, resigning himself to never having his questions answered. 

“Thank you, then. We will never forget this kindness!” he said, bowing his head, before rushing back to his own men. 

The other three turned to stare at the donkey-headed girl in exasperated silence. 

*** 

The next day, as the army proceeded, the officer, walking in silence once more, looked ahead to see yet another incredible sight. 

It was a familiar tent and a familiar table, with three familiar girls, a familiar wooden sign, and a familiar donkey-headed girl… 

Traveling Restaurant – House of the Holy Maiden, Shop No. 3 

“Yeah, I figured as much,” the officer muttered with a weary slump. 

“My! We’re making a killing here! If we average about one half-gold per person, times 5,000 people, that’s 500 gold pieces!” 

In terms of modern Japanese money, that would be around 50 million yen. 

“What a blessed act of mercy! A labor of love!!!” 

The other three stared at Pauline in utter disbelief. 

Meanwhile, Mile, wearing the same strange get-up as the day before, was, as usual, completely spacing out. 

This is a fantasy world , she thought. And this tent here is the temporary home for me, a donkey. A temporary home for a donkey… “Roba el Kaliyeh”? 

It was an absolutely splendid pun, but there was not a single person around who would understand it. 

“Mile, why are you crawling around with your hands on the ground over there?” 

Such a cruel, cruel, cruel, cruel, terribly cruel existence living in this world was… 

*** 

Upon making their way out of Ascham and into the border fief of Cesdol, the imperial soldiers had found all of the villages along the highway devoid of life and empty of food, all of the wells having vanished as if by literal magic. At this discovery, they had fallen into a deep despair. Faced with few other options besides welcoming death with open arms, the soon-to-be starving, thirsty soldiers were sure to begin defecting one by one, turning to banditry and spreading disorder and chaos throughout the kingdom. 

However, there was still the very small amount of water that the mages could produce, as well as the one half-gold and one silver they had been receiving once a day for provisions. Thanks to both of these, it now seemed that there might be a viable road to making it home alive, meaning that there was no longer any reason for the men to abandon their families and turn to a life of villainy. It would be difficult, but they would return home safely as valiant soldiers who had fought for the sake of their country. 

Plus, there was no one who would dare act in any untoward manner or try to threaten the girls who had been providing for them. It would be one thing if they had no way to obtain the food and drink that the girls offered, but they could come by it easily just by parting with the small change they carried in their breast pockets as expedition allowance. Under such circumstances, no one would make the mistake of acting in an uncouth way in front of their comrades and superior officers. 

Furthermore, their partners in survival were a group of brave young girls who had risked the odds to carry heavy provisions all the way into a war-zone, just for them. To harass such brave creatures would see them talked about behind their backs for the rest of their lives or even court martialed upon their return home. In fact, they likely wouldn’t even make it that far; their fellow soldiers would probably slit their throats on the spot. 

Anyone who did not have enough money on hand simply had to borrow it from their comrades or superiors. It was not especially rare to find those who were particularly well-off or, at least, who happened to have some spare coin or other squirreled away in the hems of their clothes for just such a rainy day. 

And thus, somehow—just barely—the imperial soldiers were able to continue on with their honor and dignity still intact, and The Traveling Restaurant – The House of the Holy Maiden was able to continue selling food and water to the Albarnian army every day until they finally reached the national border and crossed back into their own homeland. 

“Doing charitable work really is the best!” 

“So, she really was Pauline, huh?” 

“Looks like it was her the whole time.” 

“It couldn’t be anyone else…”