II
The Kaiser Estate in the Sallutonia region of Southern Fernest
“Are you really sure about this?”
After pacing however many times around the room, Margrave Kaiser von Sallutonia, master of a substantial domain in the southwest of Fernest, rounded on a young, handsome officer. A week had passed since Evanson, the officer in question, had arrived with several of his soldiers and rapped on the estate gates. The Northern Perscillan Army had begun its invasion half a month earlier.
“You needn’t worry about that. Major General Olivia might be young, but her understanding of warfare is infallible. I guarantee she will not let you down, Margrave Sallutonia,” Evanson replied confidently, making a courteous bow. Kaiser sank deep into the sofa, then shot a look at the letter that lay on the table. On the envelope, the name Cornelius vim Gruening was written in flowing handwriting.
“That—That’s what I’ve been afraid of. A sixteen-year-old girl commanding a legion? Anyone would think you were joking. You can’t just tell me not to worry, as if that were possible...”
In the letter Evanson had carried from his old friend Cornelius, the marshal had written that he placed his unreserved trust in the newly formed Eighth Legion. This was why Kaiser had reluctantly consented to follow the girl’s instructions to withdraw the soldiers stationed at his forts. Under normal circumstances, he never would have considered withdrawing without engaging the invaders even once, and especially not in the domain his ancestors had built and protected through the generations.
“Abandoning the forts will be sure to give our enemy a surprise. Or no—the enemy commander will probably laugh at our outrageous cowardice,” Kaiser said, finishing with a sarcastic laugh of his own.
“I beg your pardon, my lord, but we will return the forts immediately. Withdrawing without fighting is just another part of the art of war.” Evanson scratched his nose, looking embarrassed. “Though that’s just what the Major General told me,” he admitted.
“What that little girl can have to say about the art of war...” Kaiser muttered. “I suppose I ought to take it as another sign that times are changing.”
After many centuries dominated by the ravages of war, one of the most notable distinctions of the current conflict was the number of women serving as soldiers. There were, in fact, many women in Kaiser’s own personal guard. He prioritized ability first and foremost without regard for gender, but even he struggled to accept or condone a sixteen-year-old girl on the battlefield, let alone as a legion commander.
However, the dice had been thrown, and there was nothing he could do but leave the rest in the hands of fate. Kaiser reached for a glass filled with red liquid that rested on the table, then drained it.
“Margrave Sallutonia, I know I repeat myself, but you really need not worry. Major General Olivia will rout the Northern Perscillan Army like that, you’ll see.”
“Rout them, eh?” Kaiser said slowly. “You’re mighty confident.”
“I am. Though I have not known Lady Olivia long, there is no doubt in my mind that she is a trustworthy commander, as her past achievements also attest.”
Kaiser had lived through the grasping ambition that ran rampant in noble society by being cutthroat himself. From what he saw, Evanson was undoubtedly a clever fellow. It was in a way inevitable that he found himself growing curious about this girl that inspired something like blind trust in such a man.
Olivia Valedstorm... he thought, looking at his own reflection in the glass. I’d like to meet this girl they call the Death God and see what she’s really made of.
The battle between the Royal Army and Northern Perscilla was fast approaching.
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