The Girl Raised by the Death God Holds the Sword of Darkness in Her Arms - Volume 7.1 - Chapter 7.1

Chapter Seven: On the Walls

I

The walking dead in thrall to Darmés Guski, the newly crowned emperor of the Asvelt, put an end to Twin Lions at Dawn, the military operation upon which the Kingdom of Fernest had pinned its hopes. Despite the suppression order in force in the army, they could not conceal the deaths of Cornelius and Paul—the Invincible General and the God of the Battlefield—forever. Before long, the news had spread throughout the general populace. It was inevitable that the common folk would despair at the loss of the heroes they had counted on, but things did not end there. Driven to desperation, some formed a mob in the capital city of Fis that the city guard was unable to handle. It took several days for the Sixth Legion stationed in the city to quell the rioters, and by that stage, all of Fernest had been swept up in the storm of violence. The confused state of the Royal Army meant it was in no position to put down all the unrest, and several towns and villages were overrun by mobs.

Every man, woman, and child of the common folk wished that a new hero would appear.

The Commander’s Room in the Military District of the Emaleid Citadel

Blood Enfield had scarcely had a moment’s rest in days when, shortly after lunch, he received an unexpected visitor.

“What’s this I hear about you not even bringing a proper escort?”

“Things are quiet for now, but sparks are flying everywhere, ready to ignite whatever kindling they can catch. It would not be right to take soldiers for myself.”

Blood moved from his worktable to the sofa, then gestured for commander of the Sixth Legion and Fourth Princess of Fernest Sara son Rivier to join him.

She sat down gracefully, observing the state of the table with an air of exasperation, and said, “It looks as though you are trying to see how high you can stack your paperwork.”

“Yes, thanks to a certain aide who’s been loading me up with a good deal more work than I can handle, it’s all but certain that my death will be the result of asphyxiation,” Blood replied, not missing the chance to be sarcastic. From behind him, Lise gave a restrained cough, followed by a sense of pressure that was palpable even over his shoulder.

“As you can see, that certain aide is scary as hell.”

“My lord.” The icy voice seemed to crawl up from his feet. Blood drew his head in as close to his shoulders as he could while Sara giggled.

“I hear it is your efforts we have to thank for the peaceful state of the citadel, General Blood. You never fail to impress.”

“We have a threat bearing down on us the likes of which you wouldn’t even put in a fairy tale to scare children. I, for one, do not have the energy to spare on petty quarrels.” His tone was joking, but Sara was serious as she nodded in reply.

“So, Princess,” he went on, “to what do I owe the honor?”

From the moment he had heard from Lise that she meant to visit, he had guessed that she was not coming in her capacity as commander of the Sixth Legion. If it was a military matter, a runner could have done the job. There was no need for her to come in person, nor was she in a position where she could be allowed to do as she liked in these unpredictable times. Just as Sara herself had said.

Which pretty much guarantees it’s going to mean trouble, he thought.

Sara set her tea down on the table, then, glancing around them, she lowered her voice and said, “Only a few people know what I am about to tell you. Please bear that in mind as you listen.”

Ooh, getting straight to it, then, Blood thought, stopping himself from sticking out his tongue.

“I will leave,” Lise said, quickly moving to get up, but Blood ordered her to stay and listen.

“My memory’s like a sieve. Not a problem is it, Princess?”

Sara gave a small nod, then began to speak. She told him of how Alfonse had taken leave of his senses after learning of Cornelius’s death, and how for that reason, Prince Selvia had temporarily taken on the role of regent. Finally, she raised the matter of supreme authority over the military, which had been in limbo ever since Cornelius’s death, and transferred it to Blood.

“I trust I have your consent?” Sara said, looking at him pleadingly. She probably knew how much Blood hated trouble.

Blood leaned back into the sofa, then let out a loud sigh. “Can’t General Lambert take it?”

With the deaths of not only Cornelius but also Paul, whom Blood had convinced himself would never die in battle, the highest rank in the army was now held by a senior general. Blood or Paul’s brother-in-arms Lambert were the only two eligible for the role. But while they might have held the same rank, Lambert had spent many years as second-in-command for the First Legion. Blood could not hope to match him in battle experience, achievement, or fame. It was obvious that Sara had come to him with the offer despite being well aware of this, and Blood asked in full knowledge of it too.

“General Lambert’s wounds were more severe than we imagined. He is in no state to take command. General Lambert, by the way, wishes very much for you to accept the post.”

It was by and large the answer Blood had expected, and it meant his escape route had been cut off.

Life rarely goes the way we’d like. Didn’t old Paul say something like that? Then he said that’s what makes it interesting, but there’s not a damn thing that’s interesting about this mess, he thought, taken back to a memory from his school days. Knowing it was futile, he tried out one last avenue of resistance.

“Just so I have this straight, is that an order?”

“It is the royal decree of His Highness the Prince Regent,” Sara said at once. Blood could sense the strength of her will. He scratched the back of his head.

“Well, I’m just a common soldier. I can’t argue with a royal decree,” he said. “But this prince—he is trustworthy, is he?”

“My lord!” Lise cut in hurriedly. Blood raised a hand to quiet her.

“ I’m aware I’m being discourteous, but the fate of this nation is at stake.”

He was being given supreme authority over the army. That was not something he could accept with a smile and a nod. In Blood’s view, it was thanks to Cornelius that Alfonse had been able to keep outbursts of unrest at bay. If he were to go through hell and high water to move things along only for Prince Selvia to butt in at the last moment, it could all go up in smoke. The prince never appeared in public and so all Blood knew about him was that he was often bedridden due to illness. Though he scarcely deemed King Alfonse worthy of trust either, a son who had never taken part in affairs of state was another thing altogether. Had he stood up himself out of fear for Fernest’s future? Or had he reluctantly taken on the duty because of the influence of those around him? Blood had no way of knowing, but it wasn’t uncommon for those who suddenly acquired power to get funny ideas—especially inexperienced youths.

As though she’d read his mind, Sara gave him a half smile. “His Highness would very much like an audience with you, General.”

“Would he, now...?”

“He appreciates your concerns. I think that is why he wants to talk to you in person.”

“An audience, eh...?” Blood found himself craving a cigarette. He pulled one out, then lit it, enjoying the familiar aroma as he turned his thoughts to Prince Selvia.

He might only be regent, but he’s still the most important man in the kingdom. He doesn’t need to ask what I think. He sounds a fair bit better than his father, but I can’t just take her word for it.

Blood’s eyes fell on two birds visible through the open window. Based on their size, they looked like parent and child. They pecked at each other’s beaks, occasionally letting out pleasant chirps of song.

“His Highness would also like an audience with Lieutenant General Olivia, by the way,” Sara said.

“Her too?”

“Yes, His Highness has taken a great deal of interest in her.” Sara looked guilty, which puzzled Blood. Olivia had built up a record of military achievements beyond counting. It wasn’t strange that Prince Selvia would be interested in her. In any case, short of some impending crisis, he couldn’t refuse the audience. Blood decided to treat it as a valuable opportunity to judge whether the sickly prince had the stuff it would take to get through these trying times, one he was unlikely to get again. He told Sara he accepted.

“I am very grateful.”

Seeing the way her shoulders relaxed with relief, Blood smiled wearily and said encouragingly, “It seems the life of a princess of Fernest comes with more hardship than I expected. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

Sara coolly brushed off the lighthearted words. “This hardly merits being called ‘hardship,’” she replied flatly and without a hint of modesty.

As a princess, Blood thought Sara was deserving of praise, but he thought little of her as a soldier. She hadn’t gone through the military academy, nor had she fought her way up from the bottom like the late Lieutenant General Hermann Hack. Everyone, including Sara herself, knew that she was only there to show that the royal family was out on the battlefield too—a mere token. She wasn’t bad with a blade, for a princess, but as far as Blood was concerned, that was little more than an extension of a child’s games. He knew that despite this, she understood her position and did everything in her power to fulfill the duty she had been given. It was entirely down to Sara’s virtues that the Sixth Legion’s morale had not taken a greater dive despite their repeated defeats. Thanks in part to Alfonse, Blood did not have a high opinion of royalty, but Sara was the exception. Order or not, Blood couldn’t turn down a plea from her.

“On that note, is Olivia well?” Sara asked, as though to signal that they were done with formal matters. Between the omission of rank and the softness that entered her voice, her fondness for the other girl was plain.

“Sounds like you know Liv well, Princess.”

“Why, of course. She is my friend.” A look of pride came over Sara’s face. The word “friend” was so unexpected that Blood and Lise couldn’t help but exchange a look. Sara leaned forward. “Is it so strange that Olivia should be my friend?” she demanded. “Are princesses not supposed to have friends?”

Blood quickly raised both hands to signal his surrender. “If I offended you, I apologize. Now that I think about it, it’s not all that unexpected.”

Olivia had a personality that drew people to her without regard for rank or class. The fact that she held no bias toward anyone was another key factor. It showed in how Paul, whom Blood had never seen as anything other than terrifying, turned into a sweet old man around her—and of course, Blood himself was fond of her as a person rather than an officer. Sara was clearly another who had been taken in by her charms.

Sara nodded repeatedly. “That’s right. Nothing to be surprised at. Now, is Olivia well?”

“Liv is...” Blood hesitated. “I guess you could say she’s well. But you could also say she isn’t,” he mumbled, getting hopelessly tongue-tied. Sara blinked her long, thick eyelashes.

“So what does that mean?”

“It, well, it means...” He wasn’t sure if it was his place to say, but if he tried to conceal it, she would only grill him about it, and so he made up his mind to tell Sara frankly what had befallen Olivia of late.

“I see,” she said when he was done. “So that young man died...”

“You knew Lieutenant Colonel Ashton?”

“Yes, though I never met him.”

“Then how?”

“Olivia mentioned his name often in her stories...” Sara said, then she leaped to her feet. “I’m so sorry, but I just remembered I have urgent business to attend to. You’ll forgive me if we leave things here for now.” With that, she hurried from the room.

Blood waited until he was sure the door was closed, then said, “I don’t need to go after her, do I?”

“Princess Sara is an intelligent young woman. She won’t intrude on Lieutenant General Olivia’s privacy, which is far more than I can say for a certain other general.”

Lise spoke with such matter-of-fact bitterness that Blood started. “You’re talking about me, aren’t you?”

“Just some general.”

“You’re not holding a grudge over last time, are you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, ser,” Lise replied, cocking her head sweetly. Then, in a tone of transparently false innocence, she added, “It really does look like you might suffocate.” Staring at the piles of papers, she dramatically clasped her hands over her mouth. She might as well have told him that he’d better get a move on with all the paperwork he’d let build up if he was going to go to the capital.

Maybe I will suffocate. That’d show her. Blood dragged himself back to the table, then let out a deep sigh at the pile of documents that towered in front of him. Under the close watch of his aide, Blood reached for his pen.