III
The Lough Mountains rose along the border between the Third City of Bay Grand and the Sixth City of Rue Shalla that had fallen to the horde of ghouls. The Sutherland Army chose the swampland at the southern end of the range as its battleground.
Lion, the supreme commander, looked down on the large-scale defensive fortifications that were taking shape day by day in preparation for the coming battle. At the center, the Armored Mage Cannon rested on a stone platform.
“How’s the work going?”
“Well enough,” Julius answered dutifully from his place at Lion’s side. He had ordered the house arrest of the leaders of four cities who had opposed war with the empire, resulting in a reduced total force of two hundred twenty thousand troops. Half of that number were deployed as a reserve force at Skyberg Fortress to the south—the largest fortress in Bay Grand.
“What are the ghouls doing?”
“Still nothing.”
Lion snorted, then said disparagingly, “Still not taking us seriously, eh?”
It had been a month since the emissary had arrived from the Asvelt Empire with a new letter from the emperor. Its message had been very simple: the march of the ghouls currently halted in Rue Shalla would resume at midnight fifty days hence.
“Lord Leisenheimer still suspects a trap, and we have reports that he has mobilized his own troops to scout out the surrounding area without seeking leave from the supreme commander. How do you wish to deal with him?”
Lion had made his taking the supreme commander’s role conditional on all of them following his orders. Leisenheimer’s conduct was in flagrant violation of those orders.
“So long as it doesn’t slow down the work, I don’t care. We have ten days until battle. I don’t see any of them backing out at this point, but there’s no guarantee.”
A number of the city leaders, with Leisenheimer chief among them, had expressed suspicions that Darmés’s unilateral declaration was a trap. But put in extreme terms, what was war if not the ultimate game of deception? Victory went to the side that pulled it off successfully. It was all very well to fear a trap, but Lion, for good reason, had dismissed it as a possibility from the start. Heaven’s research had shown that the ghouls did not need to eat or sleep in order to function. Her final conclusion was that they ate humans not to sate their hunger, but to satisfy a vestigial impulse from back when they were human. One could cut their arms off or smash their skulls in, but unless the right side of their chest, where the source of their energy resided, was pierced, they would go on fighting without any sign that it bothered them.
Lion couldn’t imagine better weapons. The best way to use them was simple brute force, relying on the strength of numbers. There was no need to mess about with petty deceptions. He believed that Darmés planned to crush them so badly that they lost all will to fight, then when he had achieved that, to demand another unconditional surrender. After all, a nation could not exist without people, and Lion didn’t think for a second that even Darmés desired a ruined land overrun by ghouls.
“Then I shall overlook the incident with Lord Leisenheimer. Darmés seems rather confident in his ghouls.”
“Of course he is. That army is a strategic-level weapon.”
“Even so.”
Lion gave a fearsome grin. “What he doesn’t know is that we have strategic-level weapons too.”
Their gazes converged on the Armored Mage Cannon that sat gleaming in the sunlight. At that very moment, Heaven too would be hard at work preparing for the oncoming battle. All of a sudden, Julius gave a wry chuckle.
“What?” Lion asked.
“I forgot to mention. Lord Cassanoah seems quite enamored with the cannon.”
“Does he, now...” Lion snorted, then pushed his hair back. “I never know what the Bat is thinking.”
When he had first unveiled the cannon, the city leaders had taken a much greater interest in Heaven, whom he had introduced at the same time. This stood to reason—it was their first time seeing a rare mage—but Cassanoah had spared her no more than a passing glance. For the rest of the time he had gazed at the cannon with a disturbing smile playing about his lips.
“I think it’s safe to say that Lord Cassanoah at least understands what the cannon was built for.”
“Of course he does. That’s why I can’t stand him.”
“He is clever, but not all-powerful.”
“By which you mean, when I pulled out something that went beyond his expectations, all he could do was smile?”
“It looked that way to me.” Julius had hit the nail on the head, but neither of them could have known that yet.
“Whatever the Bat is scheming, he’s still the lord we need to keep the closest eye on. I doubt he’ll try anything with all this going on, but make sure you stay on your guard.”
“Not to worry, my lord. I have already placed several of the Wolfpack within his camp.”
“That’s not enough. Make up some excuse to put a guard on him.”
“Won’t that let him know we suspect him?”
“I don’t care if he knows. That’ll be a deterrent in and of itself.”
“In that case, I shall see to it right away.” Julius departed, the perfectly rhythmical sound of his footsteps fading behind Lion as Julius glared over at the left flank, where the army of Crimson Liber was camped.
Main Command of the Army of Crimson Liber
Cassanoah bell Steintz, lord of the Seventh City, wrapped his hand around a cup of steaming tea and took a slurping gulp as he listened to the report of Black General Lytton Belmondo, who commanded his army.
“The supreme commander is obviously trying to keep an eye on us. I will come up with some reason to refuse.”
“No need. He is deliberately making sure we know what he is doing. Leave him to it.”
“If Your Grace says so...”
“He doesn’t look it, but he is ruthless. If it weren’t for the ghouls, that weapon could well have been aimed at us.”
“Assuming this ‘Armored Mage Cannon’ can really do what the supreme commander claims, then by using it on us, he would turn all the other cities against him. Would he really do something so foolish?”
“At present, I have significant doubts that it would turn out as you say, General. It is already fifty years since the founding of the United City-States of Sutherland. By ostensibly remaining neutral and refusing to take part in any war, we have enjoyed peace, but a peace that goes on too long leads to slackened vigilance and dulled judgment. You only have to look at what became of Northern Perscilla when they were lulled into complacency by the comfort of knowing that they were one of the Three Great Nations, and so, based on mere superficialities, went to war with the Kingdom of Fernest. I wonder how many are left in Sutherland with the mettle to defy that cannon if it were pointed at them.”
War was the most unproductive act possible. Cassanoah was relatively fond of Sutherland for its continued neutrality—even if only on the surface. But Lion was different. It was no secret that he had a rare talent for the arts of war. A man like that would never have been satisfied being lord of a Sutherland city. As such, Cassanoah had been plotting behind the scenes to curb the other man’s ambitions, but the appearance of Darmés’s ghouls had rendered his efforts meaningless.
Lytton made an extremely sour face. “So things are just as you feared, then, Your Grace?”
“Oh, worse. I have no idea how things will go from here. All I know for certain is that if we lose this battle, not only Crimson Liber, but the whole of Sutherland will be snuffed out.”
“We know the monsters’ weak point. That will not happen,” Lytton said, the look of a warrior in his eyes. But his words left no impression on Cassanoah.
Now as ever, when we face something against which human strength cannot prevail, we call it a “monster.” He looked down at the cup in his hand. The warmth of the tea he had drank earlier was gone, leaving only a bitter taste in his mouth.
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