II
The Main Force of the Swaran Army, Fort Peshitta
Liberal was observing the battlefield when his chief of staff came and whispered in his ear, “My lord, Second Lieutenant Marcel of the rear guard requests an urgent audience with you.”
“What’s that? Marcel came himself instead of sending a messenger? That man... What the hell is he playing at, abandoning his post like this?”
“The Second Lieutenant says it is a matter that concerns the fate of Swaran, and was thus too crucial to entrust to a messenger.”
“The fate of Swaran?” Liberal exclaimed. “Get him in here.”
“At once, ser.”
Marcel emerged from the assembled officers, accompanied by a single soldier. They knelt, and Liberal strode over to them. Swaran might have surrendered to the empire’s authority, but it still retained the trappings of a nation. Given that a word from Gladden could change that, however, Liberal would hear what Marcel had to say for himself.
“What’ve you got to say then? What’s all this about the fate of Swaran?” he demanded. Marcel was silent.
“Have you lost your tongue? Answer me!”
“My lord,” said Marcel, looking up. “Please forgive me.”
“Forgive...? What the hell are you talking about?” Liberal demanded, but Marcel ignored him, instead addressing the soldier beside him.
“Are you satisfied? I’ve done everything you asked of me.”
“Yeah, you were great. Time for the Masked Knight Shalia to take the stage.” Without leave, and muttering something about not actually being able to get hold of a mask, the soldier stood up. She pulled off her helmet with an air of relief, and her shining silver hair fanned out before Liberal. The girl before him was so beautiful that for a moment, he found himself unable to speak. The other officers all gasped in amazement.
“‘The Masked Knight Shalia’? What’s this nonsense?” Liberal roared at Marcel, keeping one eye on the strange soldier. “I won’t stand for it! Cut the games and tell me what you know!” Marcel, however, stayed silent and would not look up. The girl soldier strolled right up to Liberal then, and suddenly she had the tip of a sword he hadn’t seen her draw pointed at his throat.
For a moment, no one understood what was happening. They all—even Liberal himself—stared at the girl and her sword as though in a dream.
“T-Traitor! Have you gone mad?!” Leinbach found his voice first, drawing his sword and pointing it at the girl soldier. The others followed suit, calling out at her and unsheathing their blades as one. Surrounded by the most formidable veteran warriors in the Swaran Army, the girl looked totally unconcerned.
“The fate of Swaran? That’s nothing to do with me,” she said with indifference. “I wanted to get defeating your army over with quickly, so I had Marcel help me out. That’s all.” As she finished, a tumult of voices erupted once more from around them.
“You dog! You double-crossed us?!” cried Leinbach. The girl soldier’s eyes went wide.
“What? I’m not double-crossing anyone—I’m not a Swaran soldier. I’m Major Olivia Valedstorm of Fernest. Otherwise known as...the Masked Knight Shalia!” She made a silly, flourishing gesture, her sword still at Liberal’s neck. Unable to move for fear his throat would be slit, Liberal turned just his head towards Marcel.
“I suppose you had your reasons for obeying this head case, but you’ve misplayed,” he said. “I’m just one soldier—I’ll never surrender to save my own skin! Don’t think you can use me as a shield.” It wasn’t Marcel who answered, however.
“Oh, really? I mean, that’s fine with me,” said Olivia. “Things will just take a little longer. Though the other humans don’t seem to feel the same way...”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Liberal looked around and saw the anger had drained from the faces of his officers. They now looked troubled.
“What are you fools doing? Forget me! Kill the traitors!”
“I can’t, ser,” said Leinbach. “Your death will only further seal Swaran’s doom. And King Allen... King Allen depends on you, my lord.” Leinbach slackened his grip on his sword, dropping it on the ground. One by one, the others surrounding them followed suit.
“You...” Liberal was at a loss.
“You have won. We will not fight you. Now will you release Lord Liberal?” said Leinbach, admitting defeat. Olivia gave two satisfied nods.
“Swaran humans really are so well behaved—I appreciate it. Once I confirm you’ve totally withdrawn your forces, of course I’ll release him. If you try anything tricky, though...” In a flash, Olivia produced a knife from her belt and without looking threw it back over her shoulder. Almost simultaneously, a soldier holding a bow fell out of the tree behind her. The knife, engraved with the lion of Fernest, had embedded itself deep in his forehead. The blood of all assembled ran cold.
“...you’ll end up like this human here, never eating tasty food again,” Olivia finished with a bewitching smile. She held everyone in the palm of her hand now.
“Princess Sara, I beg you to reconsider!” Roland called out from behind Sara as she climbed the staircase.
“I cannot. If I do not act now, we may lose the chance to even surrender. It will only hold any meaning while we are still able to offer resistance,” she replied, and stepped out onto the fort battlements. She could hardly believe what met her eyes.
“What in the world...?” she gasped. As though in answer, a single soldier came running up to her, out of breath.
“The enemy is retreating, General!”
“I can see that, I just... Were we able to deal the enemy some decisive loss?”
“Ah... No, ser. Actually, our forces weren’t really able to do...” Sara listened without paying attention as the soldier fumbled for words, and looked once more to the scene beyond the walls. After a week of fierce battle, the Swaran army was now retreating in solemn silence.
What could possibly have happened? Sara watched them leave, hardly able to breathe. Little by little, the reason became apparent. Taking the place of the Swaran army were banners emblazoned with seven stars and lions.
“Princess Sara, that’s...that’s the Seventh Legion.” Roland stood beside her. His voice was hoarse with strong emotion.
“It seems so,” she replied. A cheer rose up from the soldiers, and Sara felt the tears begin to run down her cheeks.
The gate opened, and Sara stepped forward to welcome the Seventh Legion herself. The first thing that caught her eye was a young girl who for some reason was dressed in Swaran armor. Even Sara, who had seen as many beautiful young ladies at the palace as there were stars in the sky, was struck by the girl’s loveliness.
The girl noticed her, and came hurrying over.
“Might you be Lieutenant General Sara of the Sixth Legion?”
“Yes. I’m Sara,” she replied. The girl saluted.
“I’m Major Olivia Valedstorm, commanding the Independent Cavalry Regiment of the Seventh Legion!” she announced, then gave Sara a friendly smile.
“Major Olivia?” Sara echoed. “That’s right, there were rumors...”
Olivia’s name had reached Sara before. At this point, her reputation was such that even the residents of the palace knew of her. Sara had hoped to have the chance to meet her one day, but never dreamed it would be under circumstances like these. As she goggled at Olivia, the other girl took a wide stance and raised her left arm.
“Otherwise known as the Masked Knight Shalia!” she pronounced, looking pleased with herself. Unsure what to make of this, Sara only stared.
“Major!” came a piercing voice. Another woman walked briskly towards them. “You must not behave like that in the presence of Princess Sara!” Introducing herself as Claudia Jung, she turned to Sara and bowed deeply. Olivia’s shoulders rose to her ears, and she stuck her tongue out. Sara, shaking off her bemusement, let out a snort of laughter. She knew the Masked Knight Shalia well. As a child, she had read and reread the tale of the brave young knight, never once tiring of it. That picture book had been the most formative element of her childhood.
Come to think of it, Shalia did make that strange gesture every time she introduced herself, Sara thought as she remembered the pose Olivia had struck, and another burst of laughter escaped her. Claudia bowed and apologized again.
“Please, don’t worry about it,” said Sara. “I love the Masked Knight Shalia.”
“No way?! Um, I mean—is that true, ser?!” Olivia cried, closing in on Sara with fervor in her eyes. Sara took the other girl’s hand and squeezed it to show her gratitude.
“It is,” she said. “In fact, it’s because I loved Shalia so much that I first picked up a sword.”
“That’s so cool!” Olivia was grinning from ear to ear.
“On that note, you must forgive me for being so late to deliver my thanks. We are indebted to you for your aid in liberating us from a truly desperate situation.”
“Thank you for the kind words, ser!”
“But you must tell me—how did you persuade the Swaran Army to withdraw?” asked Sara, giving voice to the question that burned within her. Olivia’s regiment didn’t look like it had the numbers to drive them away. Olivia puffed up her chest, and began to cheerfully recount what had happened.
“You...you went into the enemy camp alone?” Sara asked when Olivia was finished. She struggled to string the words together. Olivia had not only infiltrated the enemy command alone, but taken their commander hostage and forced their army to retreat—a feat unimaginable for any ordinary person. Roland and the others stared at Olivia like she was of some as-yet-undiscovered species. Sara had heard the rumors of Olivia’s exploits, and now felt overcome with awe to have witnessed the real thing.
“What became of the captured enemy commander?”
“He’s over there. Claudia?” Olivia called out. Claudia went to where several soldiers stood bound with ropes and brought an indignant-looking man forward to stand before Sara.
“If that girl hadn’t shown up, it’d be you scum tied up right now!” he spat at her.
“Yes, I imagine you’re right,” replied Sara. He was perfectly correct—she’d been on the verge of surrendering, after all. Though she only meant to convey her genuine agreement, the man didn’t seem to take it like that. As she watched, his face turned deep scarlet, and he twisted violently against his restraints. Soldiers hurried to subdue him, then Olivia walked over and whispered something in his ear.
“...okay?” she finished. The man’s face instantly went from scarlet to a pallid gray. He stopped struggling, and Olivia gave a satisfied nod before patting him comfortingly on the shoulder.
“Once you’ve confirmed the enemy’s full retreat, ser, please release this human. I promised we would, you see. As for us, we’ll be setting off again at once.”
“I really am incredibly grateful to you. As a member of the royal family, I ought to offer you some reward, but I’m afraid...well, you see the state we’re in,” Sara said apologetically, looking back at the battered and broken fort. She wasn’t prepared for what Olivia said next.
“Okay, then how about next time, we talk about the Masked Knight Shalia together—ser!” she added hastily at the end.
“That’s...that’s all?” It was such a paltry request for such a splendid victory. Sara repeated the question, but Olivia insisted that that was enough. Sara, though confused, swore that it would be so.
Several days after the fighting ended at Fort Peshitta, a shimmer report reached Rosenmarie, outlining what had occurred. She summoned a delighted Vollmer, and ordered him to sortie and attack the enemy.
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