The Girl Raised by the Death God Holds the Sword of Darkness in Her Arms - Volume 6 - Chapter 2.6

VI

Long ago, in the midst of a hopeless battle, one man stood against fifty fierce warriors and single-handedly forced them back. Later, he would inspire awe as the God of the Battlefield, his renown resounding throughout all of Duvedirica.

Now number two in the Royal Army in both name and reality, Senior General Paul von Baltza gazed out over the battlefield, gripped yet again by an inexplicable sense of unease.

Brigadier General Otto Steiner finished running through his orders to his subordinates, then turned to Paul.

“For the past few days you’ve seemed somehow off, my lord. Is something worrying you?”

Paul smiled wryly. Not for nothing had Otto served as his aide for more than twenty years.

A month had passed since the fighting had begun. The imperial army had not emerged from Kier Fortress, and the battle was proceeding just as the First Allied Legion had hoped. The Second Allied Legion was advancing at a steady pace, and Olivia and the Eighth Legion had engaged the Azure Knights. It was going so smoothly, in fact, it seemed almost preordained. And yet with every passing day, Paul’s unease only grew.

“Please don’t tell me you’re worried about Lieutenant General Olivia?” Otto asked, a little reproachfully. Unusually for him, he was off the mark this time. Paul waved the question aside. Coincidentally, his mention of Olivia’s name reminded Paul of a conversation he had had with her five days before the First Allied Legion marched from Galia Fortress when they met for the first time in a long while.

“Am I allowed to eat this cake, General Paul?”

“Of course, that’s why I have it here. You eat as much as you like. The Man in the Iron Mask isn’t here right now,” he added, winking. Grinning, Olivia immediately speared a piece of cake on her fork, and moments later, she sported a full white beard of frosting. Paul patted her on the head.

“I know it’s too late for this now, my child,” he said, “but I’m sorry you had to get mixed up in this adults’ quarrel.”

Olivia stopped mindlessly shoveling cake into her mouth and looked up at him, her ebony eyes, more beautiful than jewels, blinking at him in puzzlement.

“Why are you apologizing? I volunteered to enlist.”

“The truth is, Lieutenant General, I was opposed to it.”

Olivia looked at him for a moment. “Because I’m a child?” she asked.

“That’s right. Like I said, this is an adults’ quarrel, and there’s nothing more shameful than dragging a child into that. Otto pushed for it, yes, but in the end, it was I who approved it.”

“But way back in the olden days, I forget the name of the book, but it said that people came of age at thirteen and fought in wars.”

“That’s right. Back in the age of unending war, it was so. Those days were too unforgiving to distinguish between adult and child. Only even then, it was only boys who went off to war at thirteen. Women rarely rode into battle, if ever. I’m sure those people would be shocked to see how we live today.”

“Hmm...” Olivia said slowly. “I don’t think I really understand how you feel, but all the same, I’m glad you let me join the Royal Army.”

She seemed entirely sincere. Her words felt like salve, even though Paul knew he was only indulging himself in thinking so.

Olivia went on happily. “After all, I wanted to make friends, and now I have lots of them.”

“Friends, eh...?” Half joking, he asked, “And does that include me?”

To his surprise, Olivia nodded seriously. “Of course,” she said. “Oh, but don’t tell General Otto. He’ll get angry and go on like, ‘How dare you refer to his lordship as a friend!’”

Paul chuckled. “Yes, I expect he would. It’ll be our secret, then.”

“You got it! Our secret.” With that, Olivia returned to her cake. Less than three minutes later she had polished off every crumb of enough cake for three people. Paul couldn’t help but smile at her impressively healthy appetite. Taking out a handkerchief, he neatly wiped away the cream from around her mouth. Then, he sat up straight and assumed a stern expression.

“Now, Lieutenant General Olivia, do you remember our visit to Kier Fortress?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What about the man I spoke with at the hostage exchange ceremony?” At once, Olivia gave a small nod, and Paul saw an unearthly gleam in her eyes. “So you do remember. Well, as I’m sure you know by now, that one’s no ordinary man, no mistake. There’s an aura within him like he could devour the gods themselves. You be on your guard, you hear?”

“I’ll be okay,” Olivia replied, nodding firmly this time. Paul patted his knees.

“Well, that’s all I have to say. I’ll see you when this battle is over.”

“Okay! This time, I’m going to take you out for cake. There’s this amazing cake shop back in Fis. Let’s go together.”

“Going out for cake? Very well. With that promised, I suppose I have no choice but to not die.”

“That’s right. You can’t eat delicious cake when you’re dead. But don’t worry,” Olivia added, “your teeth won’t rot.” With that, she walked lightly out of the room, leaving Paul with an emptiness inside him like a light had gone out. To fill it, he took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

Lieutenant General Olivia seemed to understand well enough that he’s no ordinary opponent, but if it perturbed her, I couldn’t tell. Of course, I still can’t help worrying, but I get the feeling those fears are different from this looming unease.

Pulling himself back to the battlefield in front of him, he saw that Otto now wore a searching expression.

“Are you perhaps concerned about the commander of the Azure Knights, Felix von Sieger?”

“There’s that too. He’s young, yet anything but ordinary. Without a doubt, he’s the most dangerous man in the imperial army.”

“Did he rouse the God of the Battlefield, then?”

“Yes, he roared at me that I was not to fight that man.” Paul laughed softly. Otto’s laugh was quieter still.

“A man who strikes fear even into the God of the Battlefield? I suppose we have no choice but to turn to the Death God, then.” As usual, Otto had no compunctions about pushing the hard work on Olivia. That was just typical of him, Paul thought as he rubbed his own smooth, bald pate.

“Leaving the fate of the Royal Army on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old girl...” he murmured. “We really are beyond saving.”

“But my lord, what’s the other matter worrying you?” Otto inquired, coolly bringing them back around to the heart of the matter. Paul didn’t answer him. Instead, he turned back to the battlefield. The indistinct unease he felt was not going away. Instead, he sensed it growing stronger.