IV
La Chaim Palace in Elsphere, the Holy Land of Mekia
“The Seraph is come!”
The guard’s cry rang out as the great doors engraved with the likeness of the Goddess Strecia swung grandly open to reveal Sofitia Hell Mekia, clothed in pale lilac to match her hair with her silver staff in one hand. She walked gracefully by the assembled guards.
It was the Spring Flower Moon, and the scent of new leaves floated on the breeze. After receiving an official declaration of war from the Principality of Stonia, Sofitia had given the order that a war council was to be held at La Chaim Palace.
They gathered in the Cloudy Chamber, the great meeting room in the palace: Blessed Wing Lara Mira Crystal, Senior Thousand-Wing Johann Strider, Thousand-Wing Amelia Stolast, and Senior Hundred-Wing Zephyr Ballschmiede. These four were joined by a group of twelve ingenious and honorable senior hundred-wings, commonly referred to as the Twelve Angels, to give a council of sixteen. They all stood up and saluted as Sofitia made her entrance. An attendant drew out a chair for her and she sat down, then ordered the others to be seated.
“As you are all aware, the Holy Land of Mekia has received a declaration of war from the Principality of Stonia,” Sofitia said. “I, of course, mean to fight back.” Everyone present nodded attentively. One of the hundred-wings raised a hand, seeking permission to speak. With a slight inclination of the head, Sofitia gave it.
“My Seraph, it’s common knowledge that Stonia is the Asvelt Empire’s dog. There can be no doubt that the empire is pulling the strings from the shadows.”
“Quite right. The empire must have deduced that Mekia was behind the surprise attack on Fort Astora. Stonia has no history with us. They would never otherwise declare war like this without warning.”
There was also the possibility that Stonia was after Mekia’s abundant mineral resources. But Sofitia dismissed this. She’d expected the truth to come out after a little longer, but in the end, it was better to openly name the empire.
The other senior hundred-wings began to chime in with their own questions.
“But this doesn’t make sense. Why doesn’t the empire come for us directly?”
“Good point. The empire doesn’t show mercy to those who defy it. Setting Stonia on us is a damnably convoluted move.”
“The imperials just suffered a series of defeats to the Royal Army. They might have too much else to deal with.”
“I see your point, but unlike the Royal Army, the empire still has some latitude. It’s hard to believe it.”
They made pertinent points, one and all, and anyone with eyes could see the difference in strength between the imperial army and Mekia’s own forces. All the same, a number of reasons occurred to Sofitia for why the empire hadn’t directly initiated hostilities. Of course, the Crimson and Helios Knights symbolized the empire itself. The empire wanting to see how all the other nations reacted to the defeats of both armies would be one reason.
Sofitia said, “I expect they are wary of the Holy Illuminatus Church.”
Mekia was home to the Artemiana Cathedral, the founding institution of the church, but more than just that, there were a large number of churches within the empire itself. To the faithful, Mekia was literally their holy land, and a poorly judged invasion risked incurring their animosity. Sofitia had in fact received a missive from Bishop Krishna Halbert intimating that he would be more than willing to lend her the services of the Knights of the Sanctuary. If there was an insurrection amongst the faithful and then the Knights of the Sanctuary marched on top of that, even the empire couldn’t escape that unscathed. Knowing this, they were trying to take the measure of Mekia’s forces while maintaining the pretense that they were uninvolved. Sofitia explained all this to the council.
Lara, looking grim, crossed her arms. “That’s devious, even for the empire.”
“Be that as it may, it is the correct strategy. Though my heart does go out to Stonia, as they will pay the price for it.”
The owls’ investigations had produced estimates for Stonia’s forces of around sixty thousand soldiers. If it were a simple question of numbers, this would have put Mekia at an overwhelming disadvantage, but not one of those seated in the chamber showed any dismay. If anything, the faces Sofitia saw were bright with exhilaration. None among them doubted that they would win, and as Sofitia looked around at them all she felt her heart swell with satisfaction.
“My Seraph, how many of our soldiers will you mobilize?” Amelia asked in a flat monotone. Sofitia smiled at her.
“I wish I could send the whole army, but on this occasion, I think thirty thousand will do,” she replied. There was a moment of silence, followed by a not inconsiderable stir amongst the senior hundred-wings.
“So half as many as our foe...” Amelia gave a little toss of her hair, then said, “That’ll be easy.”
Lara, who usually searched for anything to rebuke the other girl for, agreed. “Amelia is right,” she said.
“This battle will be an opportunity to demonstrate our strength to the empire. That we win with fewer soldiers is a precondition.”
Achieve victory with an inferior force. It was a simple enough thing to say in words, but the real thing would not go so smoothly. Excluding those victories snatched through unconventional schemes, examples in history of nations that won despite having a disadvantage in numbers were vanishingly rare. The Seventh Legion’s victory against the Crimson Knights had been one such unconventional scheme. But Mekia had Lara, who was an army unto herself, Johann, and Amelia—all of them talented mages. Meanwhile, Stonia might have had the advantage of numbers, but its army would be taking the battlefield under duress. Morale made the difference between winning and losing, and theirs would be nonexistent.
They would see victory. Of that, Sofitia had no doubts.
“Understood, my Seraph,” Lara said. “By the way, who do you mean to send as commander?”
It was sweet, the anxiety that swam in her eyes as she looked across. Sofitia couldn’t help but smile.
“Fear not,” she replied. “This will be our first great battle since the title of seraph passed to me, and there is no one I would entrust the task to but you, Lara, commander in chief of the Winged Crusaders.”
At once, Lara’s expression brightened. Sofitia had on occasion been privy to the delicate smile that lit up her face, but not so Lara’s subordinates. Every one of them wore expressions of astonishment. Amelia usually didn’t allow her emotions to show on her face, but now even she was staring at Lara in slack-jawed amazement. Lara, faced with all these curious eyes, cleared her throat several times to cover her embarrassment. Then, assuming a deliberately stiff expression, she said, “Very well. I, Lara Mira Crystal, shall take thirty thousand winged crusaders and crush the Stonian army. My Seraph, you may rest easy here in La Chaim Palace knowing that I shall return to you with glad tidings.”
“Then that is just what I shall do,” Sofitia replied, smiling again. “Thank you, Lara.”
“Of course, my Seraph!”
“If I may ask one thing, my Seraph?” came another voice. Sofitia looked and saw Johann looking grave. It was such a contrast from the flippant Johann she knew so well that she drew herself up and gave him her full attention.
“You may ask as much as you like,” she replied.
“That takes care of the question of the Principality of Stonia...” he began, “But what of Death God Olivia—how do you mean to deal with her? I would be grateful for your thoughts.”
The moment Johann said the words “Death God Olivia,” a shadow fell over the atmosphere of exhilaration. Like clockwork, every face turned grave, for no other reason than that every one of them had read the report that Johann had submitted on Death God Olivia.
“This ‘magic’...” Amelia said, cutting in before Sofitia could reply. “Does it really exist? Not to mention, this ‘magical essence’ that allows one to draw mana from beyond oneself. You can’t seriously believe that rubbish.” She looked at Johann with incredulity, and from the identical expression on Lara’s face, Sofitia guessed that she harbored the same doubts as Amelia.
Zephyr appeared compelled to speak, but at a look from Johann, he swallowed his words.
“Yes, dear Amelia, I understand why you would think so,” Johann said. “I saw magic with my own eyes. It still feels like a dream, truth be told. But let me be clear on one point. Making an enemy of that girl would mean certain catastrophe.”
Right away, Zephyr nodded his agreement with Johann’s assertion. Johann could coolly analyze any situation; the same hardly needed to be said of Zephyr, who commanded the owls. With these two both sounding the alarm against this Death God Olivia, Sofitia could not reasonably set the issue aside.
Upon receipt of Johann’s report, she had issued orders to her officials to thoroughly investigate anything to do with magic. But no matter how many dusty tomes they cracked open, they had not found a single mention of the word.
“I appreciate well the danger posed by our little death god,” Sofitia told Johann. “But from what you told me, she appears to be friendly towards us.” No other conclusion accounted for how Johann had returned home in one piece, not after what he had told her about Olivia’s devastating skill in battle.
Johann rubbed his chin, going back through his memories. “I can’t say for certain...” he said at last, “but I don’t believe she was hostile, at least.”
“In that case, rushing into things will do us no good,” Sofitia replied. “Let us wait and see.” She reflected that she had been right in sending Johann to investigate. If it had been Amelia, she might have lost a precious mage. She was quite sure that it was his temperament that had saved his life.
She then said, “The point that interests me more is the one who taught the little death god how to use magic—this person called Z. You didn’t hear anything else other than what was in the report?”
“I don’t—I need some time...”
“Whether they are male or female, for instance. Any such insignificant details will do.”
Johann scratched his cheek, looking discomfited. “I’m sorry, my Seraph, but I’m afraid, given the circumstances, I was not at liberty to question her further.”
“The same goes for me,” Zephyr added, hanging his head in shame. “I am a disgrace as leader of the owls.”
“Just so that there is no misunderstanding, I am not blaming either of you,” Sofitia reassured them. “You carried out your mission at the time to my satisfaction and brought back information of great worth.”
In truth, she did wish they had probed deeper. More than Olivia, the existence of this individual known as Z was far too valuable to ignore—easily as valuable, and she saw no exaggeration in saying so, as a whole nation. On the other hand, she agreed with Johann that, given their situation, coveting so much would be ruinous. Magic seemed to be a level above magecraft, but according to Johann’s report, its users died just like mages if they exhausted their mana. This led her to believe that the two powers might stem from the same source, and if that were true, the possibility existed that Lara and the other mages might be able to learn to use magic. For that purpose, Sofitia concluded, she needed to make contact with Z, and her first step towards that goal was to cultivate a friendship with Death God Olivia.
“We are not to interfere with Death God Olivia, then?” Lara said, summing up the discussion.
Sofitia nodded. “Yes. Right now, all our energies should be focused on the battle with Stonia. In addition, although I have not yet informed any of you of this, I have already laid some of the groundwork regarding our little death god.”
“Groundwork, already...?” Lara said, looking reverentially at Sofitia. “You are prescient as always, my Seraph.” Sofitia smiled back at her. The Invincible General was probably worrying over her sudden letter even as they spoke.
There was a pause, then Johann said, “Forgive my impertinence, but what sort of groundwork, exactly?” His eyes were wary. In fact, everyone at the table was looking at her with rapt interest.
Sofitia chuckled. “That,” she said, “is a surprise for later.” She beat her staff on the ground, setting its rings clinking, signaling to them all that the council was at an end.
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