V
Baltza’s Army, the Vilan Plateau
A short while earlier...
Baltza’s forces were on alert for the enemy’s detached force, but they did not encounter them as they passed through the Olstoy Forest and the Calbadia Hills to rendezvous at the Vilan Plateau. As he proceeded with the reorganization of his forces, Aurion Baltza felt a strange sense of foreboding and without thinking, looked around.
Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought. He couldn’t see as much as he might have thanks to the densely growing alpine plants, but the landscape before him was perfectly idyllic. There was nothing there to inspire anxiety. He had already had word that in the battle underway in the Galloch Canyon before them, the Northern Perscillan Army was utterly dominating their opponent. After he caught them in a pincer from behind, their victory would be as good as decided...yet his anxiety was not allayed.
“You’ve had that gloomy look on your face for a while now, ser. Is something the matter?”
“I’m not sure myself,” Baltza replied, disgruntled. His advisor, Noutalias, gave him a doubtful look but said no more. If he’d had to name something in particular that felt off, it was that it was too quiet. This wasn’t the kind of quiet that set your heart at ease, but rather that which stirred up fear.
“You’re not worried about an ambush, are you, ser?” Noutalias asked. His face was stiff, but there was levity in his voice. Besides him, too, there was an air of insouciance about all the soldiers. They were all sure that the battle would end in their victory.
“Just because we have the advantage doesn’t mean we can relax. The Royal Army will be desperate as a cornered rat, and there’s no telling what a desperate man will try. That sort of thing can catch you off guard.” As he lectured Noutalias, the word “ambush” that the man had used earlier settled like a stone in his stomach. Everything seemed to fall into place as he considered that this sense of foreboding might be a sign that the enemy were about to appear.
We haven’t seen hide nor hair of them thus far, so it’s safe to say they won’t catch us from behind. Even if that detached force is lurking somewhere, they can’t have more than a few thousand soldiers, like Lord Arthur said. Even if that prediction falls short, they can’t possibly number more than ten thousand. And besides, if they have a solid force, the conventional thing to do would be to gather them in the Galloch Canyon. This must all be my imagination. With that in mind, Baltza surveyed his surroundings once more, but found nothing changed. The only thing he noticed was a gray rabbit poking its head out of the undergrowth with a bemused expression.
Still, anything could happen. Better tell the troops to be on heightened alert.
Just as Baltza called over a runner to relay his orders, there came the panicked cries from the soldiers in front that, before he knew it, had propagated all around him.
“What’s going on?!” he shouted. Before Noutalias could reply, Baltza saw the hail of arrows descending upon them. Right away, he drew his sword and bellowed at the paralyzed soldiers, “Don’t panic! Get into a defensive form—” His command was cut short as, from all sides, the soldiers’ screams echoed through the air.
“Many enemies on the left flank!”
“They’re on the right flank too!”
“They came from behind, out of nowhere!”
“Lord Baltza! We’re being attacked on all sides!”
“Impossible. How could they get into position so fast?!” Even if the Royal Army had been lying in wait for the perfect moment, it wouldn’t explain this speed. The first thought that came to Baltza was that it was as though they’d been beset by Gollams, those swift-footed creatures of myth.
“—ltza! Lord Baltza!” Noutalias’s desperate shouts brought him back to the scene at hand. “Our force is in total disarray! What are your orders?!”
“R-Right now, get into a defensive formation! There can’t be that many of them!” he replied. But Baltza couldn’t have been more wrong in this prediction. The ambushing force he’d thought could only number a few thousand at most swelled before his eyes, until they found themselves surrounded by over twenty thousand soldiers.
And that wasn’t all.
Alongside the scarlet lion banners of Fernest, there flew another banner, one that provoked an unspeakable terror in him. It was black, with roses red as blood, a white skull, and two crossed scythes. The wind that swept up to them from the bottom of the canyon set the sea of black banners flying spectacularly.
You’ve got some nerve, bringing out those disgusting banners! Trying to break our spirits, are you? They were vastly outnumbered, and already, the difference in morale was starkly apparent. Baltza shouted himself hoarse trying to at least knock them out of their funk, but his cries seemed to fall on deaf ears. Surveying his soldiers, he saw that the black banners had more than achieved their desired effect. There was nothing so vulnerable as an army caught unawares, as their current predicament amply demonstrated. It was made even worse by the fact that all of them—even Baltza—had believed without reservation that the battle was all but won.
“I can’t believe they hid twenty thousand soldiers...” Noutalias said. “The Royal Army totally outfoxed us.”
“Apparently, Lord Arthur and I both were too ready to dismiss them...” Realizing how foolish he’d been, Baltza clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might shatter.
It was two hours after the ambush.
“What’s the state of the battle?”
“We’ve got nearly all the chaos under control. Only, they’re still overpowering us. Ser, I think we ought to retreat, with all possible haste...”
“Did you say ‘retreat,’ Noutalias?”
“Yes, ser.”
“You make the worst jokes I’ve ever heard. Where do you think we can retreat to?” Baltza made a show of peering around them, his mouth twisting. He didn’t need Noutalias to tell him to retreat. If it were possible, he would have long since commanded it. In fact, he’d considered it the moment they were ambushed. But in the blink of an eye, all paths to escape had been closed off, leaving them no choice but to hold their ground. That was the only reason they were in this predicament.
They’ve got us near to perfectly surrounded. Even a tactical genius couldn’t find a way out of this, he thought. Nothing to do now but have as many of their soldiers as I can join me on the journey to the next world. The only thing he couldn’t abide was humiliating himself as the commander of an army.
Baltza gripped his sword, and had resolved himself to an honorable death, when a joyful voice rang out.
“Lord Baltza! Look at that!” cried a petrion. Baltza pointed his spyglass in the direction they indicated and saw the enemy force falling back like the retreating tide. He found himself gripping the spyglass hard.
“That’s Ferrion Olga’s unit...” he murmured.
“Lord Baltza, this is the chance we’ve been waiting for. We might just be able to retreat!” Noutalias said breathlessly. This was so undeniable it scarcely needed to be said. It still represented the height of disgrace, but it was better than annihilation. Baltza gave the command at once.
“We attempt a retreat through the point where the enemy’s formation is broken. Get word to Olga with all haste.”
“Yes, ser!”
Main Command of the Detached Corps
“Major, the enemy’s right flank is circling around to the north.”
“To the front of the Eurass River...” Ashton said to himself. “Send the Seventh Platoon—but don’t forget to tell Sergeant Thomas that he is under no circumstances to cross the river and attack.”
“Yes, ser!”
“Major Ashton, Agatha from the Third Company—”
“Is here to say that our ring is stretched thin on the left flank, is that right?”
“Y-Yes, exactly, ser.”
“Tell her not to worry, I’ve already sent two platoons.”
“Yes...Yes, ser! I’ll pass it to the runners.”
Ashton continued to issue commands with such precision he might have been a bird looking down on the battlefield from the sky.
Like a god using humans as playing pieces on a chess board...
After the negotiations with Margrave Sallutonia concluded, Evanson had joined Ashton as his chief of staff. Now, he stared at the other man in awe.
A runner came up to them and said, “The enemy is concentrating its attacks on Second Lieutenant Gauss’s unit. The second lieutenant has begun to retreat and is heading for the agreed location.”
At this, the officers all started talking excitedly.
“The enemy seems to have gone for the bait, Major Ashton,” said one, beaming.
“It seems so. Well, whether to retreat entirely or to fall back and regroup, they were always going to want to find a way out of this situation, so it’s only natural, really.”
“But the way they always act just as you predict,” Evanson replied, “there’s something kind of scary about it.”
“If our opponent had some sort of aesthetic fixation on death, that would be a different story, but otherwise it’s inevitable that they’d go straight for a way out once they found it. If I were in their shoes, I expect I’d run straight for it,” he said drolly, closing one eye. Would you really, though? Evanson thought, privately doubtful. After all the feats Ashton had pulled off, there was no way he’d be hooked so easily. Evanson was sure that he acted only after predicting every eventuality.
Olivia’s presence was so blinding that Ashton tended to get hidden in her shadow, but as far as Evanson was concerned, his achievements were in no way inferior to hers. Though if he ever said so, Ashton himself would undoubtedly put all his energy into refuting it.
“By the way, there hasn’t been any word from Olivia, has there?” There was a probing look in Ashton’s eyes as he asked that was only too easy to discern.
“No reports as of yet. Worried?” Evanson couldn’t help smirking a little.
“Is something funny?”
“Oh, no. I just thought worrying about General Olivia seems needless.”
“True. If anything, the others are probably worried about us. Lieutenant Colonel Claudia in particular kept shooting me anxious glances,” Ashton said, then scratched the back of his neck.
“Strange to think it, but you might be right.” Evanson gave a little shrug, wondering absently if Lieutenant Claudia was aware of her own feelings, in the end.
“Anyway, I’m sure Second Lieutenant Gauss will make sure everything progresses according to plan.”
“Right, you wouldn’t think it to look at him, but he’s got a knack for performance.”
Ashton went to the runners who stood at the ready and informed them that the plan was entering its final stage. They set off in all directions, with swiftness born of much training.
As he went on issuing new commands, Evanson watched from behind, his eyes full of trust.
Olga’s Battalion, Baltza’s Army
“The enemy’s running scared! Keep going and break through!”
Olga’s battalion had pursued the retreating Royal Army as far as the Pass of Toledo to the northwest of the Vilan Plateau.
Sitting astride his steed, Ferrion Olga bellowed at his troops while thrusting violently with his shortspear at the royal soldiers. They responded with a roar, spurring one another on, and the discordant clamor of the battlefield rang out.
The Pass of Toledo, red under the light of the setting sun, was filled by the soldiers of the Northern Perscillan Army, now on the offensive, and the Royal Army that fell further and further back.
“Ferrion Olga, there’s an urgent message from Aurion Baltza!”
“From Lord Baltza?” Olga pulled hard on his reins to bring his horse to a stop, glaring at his advisor Marseille. “Tell me.”
“Yes, ser. He says, ‘Continue to push the enemy back, and swiftly secure a path to retreat.’”
“A path to retreat?” Olga exclaimed. “It can’t be!”
Marseilles lowered his head. “I am afraid so, ser. Aurion Baltza has ordered that the whole army is to retreat.”
“Humbug! Retreating, when we’ve finally opened a crack in the Royal Army’s defense? Baltza must’ve taken leave of his senses!”
Consumed by fury, Olga gored another fleeing royal soldier with his shortspear. They spasmed violently and quickly died.
Sweat beaded on Marseille’s brow. “Right now, our unit is the only one with the upper hand. The rest are all surrounded and at risk of being wiped out. I think Aurion Baltza’s order is the correct course...”
Olga made a noise of disgust. “Useless cowards, the lot of you!” Another royal soldier took a courageous thrust at him with their spear. He avoided the blow, then without apparent effort, seized the soldier by the scruff of the neck and turned his horse to beat them relentlessly against a nearby boulder.
“Scum!” He released his blood-splattered fist, and the soldier, their face no longer recognizable as human, collapsed over the boulder as if to embrace it. Marseille stared in shocked silence. Olga turned to him, panting. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to disobey an order.” Olga was well aware that it was irrational to expect two thousand soldiers to win against a force more than ten times their number. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he tried to alter his perspective. It was clear that he would get the credit if he successfully secured their way to retreat, which would surely improve Arthur’s estimation of him. Olga’s brain raced to calculate how he could work this to his advantage.
“The retreat is already underway. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Undoubtedly, ser.”
“Then we’ll drive the enemy back to support the retreat. Pass that along to the others.”
“Yes, ser!”
The Main Force of Baltza’s Army
“If we fall back here, we’ll finally reach the Toledo Road...” Baltza looked out at the town, no more than specks in the distance, and sighed. Already, more than half of his soldiers lay behind him, their final resting places unmarked, but thanks to Olga opening them a path, it looked as though they would avoid total annihilation.
The sun had set, and now all that illuminated the Pass of Toledo was the faint silver light of the moon. Perhaps because of the extreme limitation this exerted on their vision, at that moment, the Royal Army’s pursuit had stalled. If they attack again, it’ll be tomorrow morning, thought Baltza. In the meantime, I’d like to put as much distance between us as possible. But the soldiers’ fatigue is showing.
Even through the darkness, the exhaustion was plain on the faces of the marching soldiers.
You don’t feel it so much when you’re winning; it’s when you’re losing that the exhaustion hits you. I’ll let them rest a little...
Noutalias’s scream cut through the darkness, catching Baltza in the instant he allowed himself to relax.
“F-F-Flaming arrows!”
Baltza’s gaze was drawn up. He saw a great mass of flaming arrows raining down from the cliffs on either side of them. They had been caught entirely unawares, but even here, Baltza’s judgment was unerring.
“Cluster together, raise your shields above your heads!” he shouted. For a second, the soldiers stood frozen, but then they sprang into action, covering their heads with their shields. These were the ones who had survived this far, after all; they were shaken, but their discipline was unwavering. The burning arrows that descended upon them like shooting stars bounced harmlessly off their iron shields, sending the clang of metal on metal echoing around the pass.
As the noise filled his ears, Baltza was consumed by questions.
There’s only one road through the Toledo Pass, he thought. The Royal Army was behind us—how are they attacking us from the front?
But just as the flaming arrows subsided, the question dissipated from his mind. He had just seen the great boulders tumbling towards them, raising an earth-shaking rumble. They even planned this?! he thought. Iron shields would do nothing against boulders.
“Lord Baltzaaa!”
“Help! Help me!”
Desperate cries ricocheted around the pass, but there was nothing Baltza could do. His soldiers were swept aside and pulverized under the oncoming rocks. Those who died instantly were the lucky ones. One went on dragging himself along the ground, calling for help without realizing that his legs were ruined. It didn’t take Baltza long to realize that it was his advisor, Noutalias.
It’s over now, he thought. Melissa, Benrick, I was a fool. Forgive me for dying here...
His grip slackened, and he dropped his sword. As he stared at the boulder that thundered towards him, the faces of his wife and their infant son flashed before his mind’s eye.
Gauss’s Regiment, the Detached Corps
The wind caught the screams of the enemy soldiers so that they resonated even at the top of the cliffs, while a scene out of hell unfolded at the base. Gauss was watching in silence when Private First-Class Smerry, seemingly one of the more promising new recruits, came up to him and performed a clumsy salute.
“Captain Gauss, the enemy have lost all will to fight! Our victory is assured!”
“Don’t let up yet. Major Ashton wants a bloodbath.”
“A...A bloodbath, ser?!” Smerry said, a hysterical note in his voice.
“That’s right. He wants the Pass of Toledo dyed red with the blood of our enemies.”
“I-I see. Understood, ser.” Gauss saw Smerry gulp and felt inwardly gleeful. Obviously, Ashton would never have given such a horrifying order. Gauss had simply made it up. To a soldier, Ashton inspired no deep impression, whether good or bad. Olivia had been the same at first. But where one look at Olivia in battle was sufficient to remedy this, the same wasn’t true for Ashton. From the start, Smerry here and the other new recruits had shown a propensity for thinking little of Ashton. Gauss was, in other words, bolstering his reputation.
Ashton would no doubt have a thing or two to say if he ever caught wind of it, but Gauss reassured himself that such measures were necessary for the sake of the Eighth Legion. He wasn’t just terrorizing the new recruits for his own amusement.
“Incidentally, Major Ashton has requested individual reports on all the recruits whose performance isn’t up to snuff. Know why that is?”
“I don’t, ser,” Smerry said tremulously. “Will you tell me?”
“Ah, well, it’s only natural a fresh recruit like you wouldn’t know,” Gauss said with an exaggerated drawl. “Everyone who fails to meet Major Ashton’s expectations is sent to the ‘experiment chamber,’ no exceptions.”
“The e-experiment chamber? What’s the experiment chamber?”
“Even I don’t know the details. But going off the name, they’re running some kind of experiment...maybe even human experiments. You might not think it, but Major Ashton’s got a bent for scholarly inquiry.” Gauss finished with a menacing chuckle.
“Human experiments? S-Surely not,” Smerry said, laughing nervously.
“Well, you saw how he didn’t blink at setting dusksight wolves—a class one dangerous beast, might I add—on the new recruits. Maybe human experimentation is an exaggeration, but something of that nature’s lying in wait there, make no mistake.”
“Wait a minute. It was General Olivia who set the wolves on the new recruits, wasn’t it? At least, that’s what I heard.”
“Eh? No, that’s not right. It was Major Ashton who first suggested it to the general.”
Gauss was well aware that Ashton had been joking, of course. But he wasn’t about to tell the new recruits that. The truth wasn’t always the thing to lead someone down the correct path.
“I was sure it was General Olivia...”
“He was rubbing his hands together with glee talking about how well the dusksight wolves would train up the new recruits.”
Smerry’s face went pale. Gauss gave him a few reassuring pats on the shoulder.
“Now, I wonder if Major Ashton will be satisfied with how you’ve performed today.”
“Th-Thank you, ser!” Smerry practically fled from Gauss. It wouldn’t take long for the story to spread amongst the recruits. Nothing spread like information people thought could harm them.
“Should you really be saying those things, Captain?” A soldier, one of those who had been with him since the beginning, had been at his side the whole time, listening with exasperation.
“Major Ashton’s too soft on the new recruits. The right amount of fear will do them good.”
“Still, Lieutenant Colonel Claudia’s going to let you have it if she catches you.”
As the stars twinkled above them, Gauss pretended not to notice this last remark and set about issuing his next commands.
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