Epilogue: The Light of Dawn
Galia Fortress
Galia Fortress was housing a host of soldiers of a size never before seen in preparation for the coming decisive battle. Two men stood on the fortress walls, looking out on the rays of the sun breaking through the Ceratonis Mountains. One was Cornelius vim Gruening, field marshal of the Royal Army. The other was Senior General Paul von Baltza, now the second most important man in the Royal Army, who had won glory in the Battle of Carnac.
“You aren’t subtle, though, are you, Lord Marshal? Breaking up the gray hairs and the young folk so brazenly.”
“I suppose so,” Cornelius said, his mouth crinkling in amusement. The corners of Paul’s own mouth twisted despite himself. If you added the ages of Olivia and Blood, who were heading the invasion of Olsted, you’d only get around fifty. Meanwhile he and Cornelius, who would attack Kier Fortress, had an average age of sixty-five. Paul couldn’t help but feel his age when he considered that he already had more years behind him than the younger pair combined.
“But I believe you made the correct decision,” Paul said. “We can’t allow the empire to work out that the attack on Kier Fortress is no more than a distraction. Lieutenant—that is, General Blood is lacking in caution, and that’s not to mention Major General Olivia. It’s a little too heavy of a task for them.”
“With General Blood’s wiles, I imagine you are the only one in the whole Royal Army who thinks of him like that, Paul.”
“He is incautious; that is a fact.”
Cornelius chuckled. “Once a teacher, always a teacher...” he said. “It appears you are putting a lot of faith in Major General Olivia as usual, though.”
“Not as much as you when you made her commander of the Eighth Legion, but since her days in the Seventh Legion, she has yet to disappoint me,” Paul said proudly. Cornelius nodded.
“It’s true that without her, the two of us would likely be having this conversation in the land of the dead.”
“Well, I don’t know about that...”
Cornelius looked over at the flags that flew from the fortress spires, scarlet and embroidered with the cup and lions of Fernest. Paul followed his gaze.
“There’s no one here but us. There’s no need to dress up our words,” Cornelius said. Paul was silent. “The gods haven’t yet abandoned us—abandoned Fernest—entirely. They sent a little war goddess into our midst, after all.”
“It will be a great battle, this time,” Paul said at length. “Do you think we can win?” No sooner had he said it than he reflected that the question was unlike him. He must have been driven to ask it by the great unease that brewed in his heart. The Crimson and Helios Knights had lost many of their forces, but they were still on the board, and the empire’s most elite Azure Knights remained in Olsted, as yet without casualties.
“We will win,” Cornelius said decisively, perhaps sensing Paul’s unease. “We must, for the future of the kingdom. Besides, this time, we have the forces of Mekia behind us.”
“About Mekia...” Paul said. “Just how far do you trust her—Sofitia Hell Mekia, that is? In all honesty, I can’t work out what it is she’s after...”
Sofitia Hell Mekia had made two requests in exchange for her support. The first was a hundred thousand gold pieces. The second was that they ceded part of Fernest’s domains to Mekia. Neither was a trivial demand by any means, but given the dilemma Fernest was facing, they were hardly unreasonable. The figure named had been just within their power, as though Sofitia knew the precise details of their financial situation, and that in the end Alfonse had agreed to the terms only made this more apparent.
“I don’t trust her a whit,” Cornelius said plainly.
“Not at all?”
“The money and the ceding of domains are nothing more than a smokescreen. She might seem meek and mild, but there was a piercing gleam in those eyes of hers. Make no mistake, Sofitia Hell Mekia is plotting something. She is the picture of a general with great ambitions.”
“If you could see all that, Lord Marshal, why didn’t you caution his majesty?”
“I’m afraid that woman already has the king wrapped around her finger. Even if I tried to caution him, he would not listen. The best I could expect would be to weather his displeasure.” Cornelius said this with a bitter smile. Paul remembered all the ways Alfonse had gone out of his way to accommodate Sofitia. The king wasn’t the only one. Paul knew how most of the attendees at the dinner party had stared at Sofitia with adoration in their eyes.
It was always at the turn of an era that one born with the ability to inspire people—in other words, the quality of a true monarch—would mysteriously appear. Sofitia was a perfect example of this.
“Besides that, our armies are stretched thin. Meanwhile, the Mekians have such unassailable strength that they were able to drive back the Stonian Army with half their enemy’s numbers. Even if Sofitia Hell Mekia is plotting something, if she were to turn that strength on us, we would be hard-pressed to shake her off.”
Paul had heard that the Mekian army numbered thirty thousand soldiers. If the stories of its prowess were true, their aid would be invaluable.
“It’s true that theirs isn’t a force we can simply brush aside.”
“At the end of the day, this is an alliance built on sand. At present, there is a mutual advantage to be had. When that advantage is lost, it will crumble in a moment. We must at the very least stay on our guard.”
“I will be as cautious as I can,” Paul agreed. “Now, excuse my changing the subject, but I heard that Major General Olivia received a formal invitation to visit the Holy Land of Mekia. You aren’t just going to let her go, are you?”
Cornelius’s dark blue eyes grew misty. “I’m afraid that is just what is going to happen. His Majesty gave his permission before I had time to stop him. I believe she is scheduled to depart for Mekia today.”
Though he knew Cornelius was not to blame, Paul couldn’t hold in a sigh of frustration.
“I’m sorry,” Cornelius said ruefully. “Having said that, it seems some change has occurred within His Majesty, though I know not what it is. He has become significantly more receptive of late.”
“His ceding control of the army to you was certainly a bolt from the blue. If the First Legion hadn’t marched, we would have been destroyed on the central front.”
Cornelius cleared his throat, with a look on his face as though he were remembering something, then said, “His Majesty has publicly announced that he has accepted this invitation to strengthen the alliance between our two nations—which is not wrong, in and of itself.”
“Still, we must urge them to take the utmost care. Sofitia Hell Mekia didn’t invite just anyone, after all; she invited Major General Olivia.”
The Holy Land of Mekia lay far to the west of Duvedirica. It hardly seemed likely that Olivia’s reputation had stretched that far, but Sofitia could easily have heard the stories while staying in the capital. It wouldn’t be unusual for her to become interested in Olivia.
But even so, this smells rotten to me, Paul thought. With the alliance in place, they wouldn’t harm Olivia, but Paul had the nose of a veteran soldier, and it was picking something up.
“I have of course instructed Major General Olivia to be careful. We can’t have her treating this like a sightseeing trip, after all.”
“Trust you to think of that, Lord Marshal.”
“Though to be frank, there was no need to warn her.”
“What does that mean?”
“Major General Olivia understood that much without my telling her. Of course, she would. She has the likes of Lieutenant Claudia swearing to protect her no matter what happens. She could do with easing up a little, perhaps, but I imagine Mekia will be a good diversion for her. Ah, that looks like Major General Olivia departing now.”
Paul looked down and saw Olivia on a black horse, waving up at them.
He chuckled. “I don’t know how she can make us out at this distance,” he said, waving back cheerfully at her. Cornelius waved too, stroking his magnificent beard as he did so. Olivia responded with an even bigger wave.
“We have to make sure that girl lives,” Cornelius said at length.
“No matter what. Besides, the rule since ancient times has been that the gray beards die first.”
“Ancient times, is it? Well then, I suppose I shall be the first to go,” Cornelius laughed.
“Well, if you’ll forgive my being perfectly frank, yes,” Paul said. “You know, I haven’t seen that expression on you in a while, Lord Marshal.”
Cornelius’s fighting spirit burned quiet but sure in his eyes. The look on the old man’s face reminded Paul of the days of their youth when they had fought side by side on the battlefield.
Cornelius chuckled. “The same goes for you, Paul. The battle to come will be all-out war, no mistake. I look forward to seeing the God of the Battlefield awaken from his long slumber.”
A trumpet blared, announcing Olivia’s departure. In the light of dawn, Paul’s shadow stretched out dark and menacing behind him, like some fierce god.
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