IV
Main Command of the Northern Perscillan Army, the Galloch Canyon
It was a few hours after hostilities had broken out between the Eighth Legion and the Northern Perscillan Army in the Galloch Canyon. The reports that rolled in on the state of the battle caused a dramatic improvement in the energy of the assembled officers.
“It’s clear from the current situation just what sort of a state the Royal Army is in, eh?”
“Still, this feels cruel. We have them on numbers, but while they have the advantage of terrain, they have the discipline of a bunch of toddlers. I can’t help but think those reports that they beat two orders of the empire’s knights must have been mere fabrication.” Lasie’s face twisted with pure disgust as he spoke. His observations were correct. The Royal Army lacked anything even remotely resembling discipline. Their counter to the Northern Perscillan attack had come without any order. Forget lions; they fought worse than puppies.
“There’s a simple answer to your doubts, Lasie,” Arthur said.
Lasie paused, then asked, “Would you be so kind as to tell me what it is, ser?”
“You don’t see it? We’re fighting an entirely different opponent now.”
“Different...” Lasie repeated slowly. “Was it the Invincible General who defeated the knight orders?”
“That’s what I think.”
The Kurca Annihilation Strategy, deployed by Cornelius the Invincible General in his battle with Lemuria, continued to be used as an example of warfare in the present day. In the absence of any rumors of the man’s death, Arthur was sure that Cornelius must have been responsible for driving off the Crimson and the Helios Knights.
“Why isn’t he here this time, then?”
“Even the Invincible General won’t have emerged unscathed from fighting those two armies. Otherwise they wouldn’t send an army that fights like newly hatched chicks.”
Lasie processed this. “Should we simply crush them, then? For want of a better way to put it, I don’t think we will need our plan after all.”
“I see why you’d think so. They’re far more woeful than anything I expected.”
“Then—”
“So we draw them into the trap, and cut them to pieces.”
The imperial army had retreated for now, but it would undoubtedly be back. It was hard to imagine the Royal Army could take on two enemies at once in its current state. If Arthur beat them thoroughly here, the Royal Army would have no other force available to send against him, which would secure him time to establish their newly acquired domain. If he took the nobles’ assets and distributed them to the impoverished commoners, they would quietly submit to his regime. Commoners were more concerned with the money and food they needed to live than the fate of nations, after all.
“Shall we get started, then?”
“But ser, deliberately creating an opening amongst all this will be a nightmare...” Just as Lasie was expressing his misgivings, a new runner came dashing in.
“My lords! The Royal Army is retreating!”
At this, Arthur and Lasie turned unconsciously to look at each other.
“Commander,” Lasie said at length.
“Quite the performance they’ve put on for us,” Arthur laughed. He went on laughing, his mouth twisting. A bad comedy wouldn’t try such a development. A retreat only a few hours after the battle commenced was a turn even Arthur hadn’t seen coming. I see how they got trampled by the empire. Here the downfall of Fernest is epitomized. He no longer had any doubt that they would win. Yet despite that, the wasted effort weighed on him.
“We’ll shift to pursue the enemy,” Lasie said cautiously.
“Yes, do so. Lady Cassandra wants an absolute victory. Tell the soldiers to slaughter them all. Take no prisoners alive.”
“Yes, ser.”
“Oh, and I give my word: whoever kills the enemy commander, no matter their rank, will be promoted to argerion.”
“Thank you, ser!”
Main Command of the Eighth Legion
“General, our forces are being overwhelmed.”
Looking down from above, the Eighth Legion was getting pushed unrelentingly back, unable to effectively make use of the advantage of terrain. Unless the course of the battle changed, the Eighth Legion would soon burn through what little life it had left.
“Yeah,” said legion commander Olivia complacently, as though it didn’t have much to do with her. But neither Claudia nor any of the others reproached her for it. Everything was going just as she’d planned.
“Speaking of,” she added, taking out a pocket watch and opening it, “it’s about time we finished this, isn’t it?”
“If all goes well, that is...” Claudia said. No sooner had she spoken than a runner appeared, panting. They were from Ashton’s Detached Corps.
“How is it going?”
“Perfectly, ser. Major Ashton ordered us to move onto the final stage of the plan.”
Claudia broke into a smile. If she’d been alone, she might have danced. Even without her and Olivia, Ashton had pulled off his vital role with great success.
“General! Ashton’s done it!”
“That’s the Eighth Legion’s tactician for you. We’ve got this battle pretty much in the bag now.” Humming to herself, Olivia took a cookie from the bag at her waist and popped it into her mouth. Claudia caught a faint whiff of sugar, totally incongruous with the battlefield around them.
“I’ll give the order to retreat at once.”
“Thanks. But seriously, everyone is so good at acting! The enemy actually thinks our army is falling apart.” Olivia was visibly impressed. Claudia sighed. Things were proceeding according to the scenario they had planned for, but it was questionable whether what the new recruits were doing could be called acting. They had, of course, communicated the contents of the plan to the whole legion, but when faced with the real enemy, all they could do was blindly swing with spears and swords. They had their hands full just staying alive.
Still, I suppose this is the general we’re talking about. She probably thought of all that.
Though she was only sixteen years old, no one came close to Olivia’s skill with a sword. On top of that, she had an extraordinary head for warfare, and her beauty seemed to have taken on an even higher degree of refinement of late. On more than a few occasions, Claudia had found herself seriously wondering if some god hadn’t crafted her for a bit of amusement. Though Ellis, if allowed a word in, would scoff at the idea of a mere god being able to create Olivia.
“We should get going too,” Olivia said. She stood up from her chair, which Gile had built himself, her cloak billowing. The crimson cloak that Ellis had gifted her upon her promotion stood out even more dramatically paired with her ebony armor. Black roses, a skull, and two crossed scythes were drawn in its center, rimmed in white. Needless to say, this was the crest of the House of Valedstorm.
First Ashton, now Ellis with these absurd, unnecessary gestures. Now everyone’s just going to compare her to a God of Death even more than they did before. As Claudia cursed them internally, Olivia came up with a pure smile. “Do you think it suits me?” she asked.
If that were the question, Claudia thought it suited her something fierce. But rather than admit it, she said, “I’m afraid I’ve never liked the Valedstorm crest...”
It was the crest that had given the association with the name “Death God” to Olivia. Claudia could never bring herself to like it. If she’d known things would end up as they were today, she would have physically prevented Olivia from taking the Valedstorm name. But the future could only be guessed at, never known. And now the damage was done.
“You hate it, don’t you?” Olivia said, looking at the crest on her chest with a little laugh.
“It’s just that a crest that makes everyone think of death bodes nothing but ill...”
“But death doesn’t mean the end. Even when your physical form ceases activity, your sleeping soul is purified at the Zero Boundary. Then, it’s bound for a new life. So life and death are basically just two sides of the same coin,” Olivia concluded in a teacherly tone. There was a tint of longing in her eyes.
The common story is that you go to the Land of the Dead when you die. I’ve never heard of this “Zero Boundary” she mentioned. I suppose this is another thing she learned from that Z person...?
Olivia had told her about Z, the self-proclaimed “Death God” who had raised her. With the sword skills that Olivia said Z had drilled into her until they became second nature, any one of her blows was lethal, and it was common knowledge that this terrified the imperials. Considering the level Olivia had been trained to, Z adopting the title didn’t seem unreasonable. Still, wasn’t there any other way to put it? Claudia thought as she issued commands for the troops to retreat in order.
Olivia was on the front line with the rear guard, issuing orders lightning-quick to enable her soldiers to withdraw. Amidst this, she turned to Claudia, who was beside her issuing her own commands. “Tell Gile to concentrate his attacks on that enemy unit exposed on their right flank,” she said.
“Very well. I will send a runner at once.” While Claudia organized the runner, Olivia stuck her hand into her bag and pulled out Comet’s favorite snack. She began to feed the horse, who munched away happily.
“General, must you do that now?” Claudia said.
“But Comet says they’re hungry.” The horse swished its tail and gave a high-pitched whinny. “That’s what you said, isn’t it?”
“Forgive me, ser, but I don’t understand Comet’s language,” Claudia said, thinking to herself that more to the point, it was normal not to understand horse. Olivia gave her a distressed look, but Claudia felt like quite frankly she was the one being distressed here.
“Well, it’d be a shame not to learn it, now that you have Kagura,” Olivia said. “Right, Kagura?”
Kagura nodded her head and Claudia very nearly found herself subjected to the ignominy of tumbling from the horse’s back. Resettling herself in her saddle, she looked at Olivia straight on. “Let’s concentrate on the battle at hand, General.”
“When was I not concentrating?” Olivia said, feeding some snacks to Kagura as well. Claudia’s disapproval for this lighthearted attitude showed on her face, but the soldiers who had served under her from the beginning were used to it. It gave them a sense of comfort, like the safety of a mother’s embrace.
First Company of Olivia’s Rear Guard
“There’s a message from General Olivia. We’re to concentrate our attacks on the enemy’s exposed right flank.”
“Very good.” Gile was greatly cheered by Olivia’s orders. “Listen well! These are the divine words of our valkyrie!”
“Yes, ser!” the soldiers chorused.
“The unit on the enemy’s right flank is exposed! It is her will that we should concentrate our attack on them. Which means, my Thousand Star Archers, that your moment has come!”
“Yes, ser!” The unit of longbow archers, trained by Gile, moved seamlessly into position. Their bows creaked as they pointed them up at the sky and pulled the strings taut. A soldier with a spyglass immediately began to estimate the enemy’s precise distance.
“Three hundred meters... One hundred... Eighty... The enemy is within effective bow range.”
“Commence three-stage volley!” The captain gave the command and a cloud of arrows shot off, raining down unrelenting on the front-most ranks of the enemy force that thundered towards them. Gile then pressed forwards with three hundred more soldiers. The enemy was thrown into disarray and left entirely at the mercy of Gile’s force, who dispatched them one after another to the land of the dead.
“Hey, keep moving! Don’t tell me you can’t handle a few hundred soldiers!” bellowed Argerion Petrus Golan from horseback. He had command of the vanguard. He deflected the incoming arrows with his shield as he berated his wavering comrades.
“But ser, they’re nothing like the enemy soldiers we’ve fought so far!” protested Golan’s advisor, his face pale.
“What’s your point? This is no more than a last, desperate resistance.”
“But—”
“Enough chat. The only way is forwards!” Golan was just about to spur his horse forwards when, through the billowing dust, his eyes met those of another man. With a smirk, the man swiftly nocked an arrow.
“Eh?!” The arrow flew straight and true towards a point below Golan. “You won’t get me that easy!” His sword flashed down and the arrow clattered to the ground without touching him.
Wh...What?! Another one already?! A second arrow, following precisely the same path as the first, shot towards Golan’s face. He couldn’t cut it aside, couldn’t even dodge as it skewered him through the neck. For a moment, Golan stared blankly at the shaft protruding before him. Then, vomiting up a great torrent of blood, he toppled from his horse.
Surrounded by screams like shattering glass, Gile shouted, “The enemy commander is dead! Now push them back!”
The ground shook with the intensity of his soldiers’ courageous voices as they answered him. Gile didn’t let up his attack, even as he continued to issue commands. He deftly nocked arrow after arrow, dispatching enemy soldiers with his keen aim. By this point, he’d very nearly perfected the technique that would see his name go down in history as a master archer.
The words he spoke that day—“It is not skill nor weapons that set an arrow in flight, but spirit!”—were to become wildly famous, but what was not widely known was that his speech was recorded incorrectly. “It is not skill nor weapons that set an arrow in flight, but the will of the valkyrie!” was the actual nonsense that came out of his mouth.
“Hey! No time for dillydallying!” At a sharp voice from behind him, Gile turned. There, he saw a woman with her boot pressing down on an enemy soldier who lay on the ground, looking anguished, just as she ran her longsword through his throat. She drew back the blade, then flicked the blood off to the ground.
“Ellis...” Gile said, easing his hand from the knife at his right hip. “So the Second Company is heading in...” Ellis’s eyes followed him as he immediately set about recovering his arrows from the bodies strewn around them.
“Guess you’re being careful, huh?”
“Careful? Are you serious? This is the Eighth Legion’s first action, the beginning of its legend. I will do whatever it takes to ensure I don’t bring shame upon Captain Olivia.”
His quiver full once more with bloodstained arrows, Gile checked the tension of his bowstring with exacting precision. Ellis snorted.
“I know that, obviously. We’ve stopped them for now, but it’s going to take time to get the whole army to retreat. We have to make sure Olivia’s plan goes perfectly—so you’d better be ready to go, Gile.”
“Indeed. You too, Ellis.” They exchanged a look, then smiled fiercely.
In one smooth gesture, Gile nocked another arrow, then took aim at the approaching enemy. Ellis, her mouth quirking, set off at a run, her body so low she seemed to skim along the ground.
After a few hours of battle, Olivia’s rear guard succeeded in forcing the enemy’s whole force to fall back. To Arthur’s great consternation, they now made brilliant use of the terrain of the canyon, exploiting it to its full potential. But he was already convinced of his victory, and so dismissed it as a last-ditch resistance without giving it significant thought.
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