V
Amelia’s Camp, the Second Allied Legion
Thousand-Wing Amelia’s Winged Crusaders, in accordance with Blood’s orders, set off in pursuit of the retreating imperial army.
“Send the seventh soaring squadron against the enemy’s right flank.”
“Yes, ser!”
“The third and fourth squadrons are to join the first. You are to pulverize the enemy’s front lines in one swoop.”
“Y-Yes, ser!”
Amelia stood herself at the head of the army, issuing commands while Jean looked on furtively from beside her.
“And what are you still gawking at me for?” Amelia rounded on Jean, her words like a sharpened blade. “If you have something to say, then spit it out. Or I’ll strike you dead with all the world’s cruelty.”
What exactly “all the world’s cruelty” entailed, Jean wasn’t sure. She stood to attention without consciously meaning to do it. Under Amelia’s gaze, she felt like a great snake was engulfing her in its coils.
Extremely nervous, Jean spluttered, “Yes, Thousand-Wing Amelia! It was only that I was a bit surprised that you were so willing to accept Commander Blood’s orders...” Her voice was so small by the end even she couldn’t believe it came from a soldier. Amelia looked at Jean, then suddenly smiled. The expression might have seemed charming to anyone who didn’t know her; to Jean, it was simply terrifying.
“That man came to me to try and provoke me into showing him how much glory I can win. Isn’t that hilarious?”
From beside Amelia, Jean had heard what the runner had said, but the words themselves had been inoffensive. She had no idea how Amelia had interpreted them as a provocation.
But then, my mistake was trying to understand how she thinks in the first place... All Jean could do right now was assume a look like she understood and nod, saying, “I see.”
She was excessively aware of the cold sweat streaming down her neck. Amelia stopped smiling and narrowed her eyes.
“Do you really understand?” she asked.
“Of course, ser!” Jean replied quickly and loudly. Amelia’s eyes fixed on hers. Jean found herself half convinced that if those eyes kept staring at her they’d turn her to stone, like a mythical monster. She applied the difficult technique of appearing to keep eye contact while actually avoiding it, and as a result, Amelia at last released her from her gaze.
“Very well, then,” she said. Jean, having been spared, experienced heartfelt relief. Wielding her spear against her enemies was a walk in the park compared to this, not to mention presenting less risk to her life. A little over a year had passed since she’d been appointed as Amelia’s aide. With the pressure Amelia put on her at every opportunity, Jean thought it was only a matter of time before her stomach gave out.
“But isn’t it odd that he assigned the pursuit to us alone?” she went on. She knew that Blood was going to reinforce the Eighth Legion. It made sense, with the enemy retreating, but Jean, for her part, had not entirely bought it. If there had been word that the battle had gone badly for the Eighth Legion, that would have been one thing, but for better or for worse no such message had arrived. The conventional course of action would have been to send all one’s forces to strike the enemy here so that one didn’t have to worry about them later.
Amelia brushed a lock of hair behind her ear with her fingertips. “The motives of the Royal Army are no concern of mine. What matters now is that we kill every last fleeing imperial soldier. I want enough of their blood to keep my bath full for three days and three nights.” She smiled as though possessed by a demon. Jean, quite sure that she was not joking, shuddered violently. There was only one thing she could do if she wanted to keep Amelia in a good mood. With her cross spear in one hand, Jean headed for the front line.
Under Amelia’s command, the Winged Crusaders ushered the imperial soldiers into the land of the dead with the force of a raging wave. The rear guard quickly fell, leaving the imperial forces to continue their retreat in chaos until at last, the Winged Crusaders drove them into a depression in the land surrounded by sheer cliffs. They did not even know that up on those cliffs, the Winged Crusaders’ archers lay in wait for them...
“Thousand-Wing Amelia! We have backed the imperial army into a corner, all according to plan.”
Amelia nodded lazily. “Good. Let us take our time crushing them.” She was just about to give the long-awaited order for an all-out attack when out of nowhere, an owl appeared before her, then knelt. Amelia glared at them. “Our revelry was just about to begin. Is this urgent?”
“Yes, ser! Master Zephyr instructed me to deliver this to you with all haste.”
“Zephyr...?” Amelia sought about in her memory but could not draw out a single recollection of Zephyr ever sending a message to her himself, for the simple reason that an owl could simply relay the contents on the spot. This alone was enough to indicate that something momentous has occurred.
Amelia gave a small jerk of her chin, at which the owl produced a letter from their pocket and held it deferentially out to her. Amelia took it without a word, immediately running her eyes over the contents.
“A great deal has been happening elsewhere, it seems.” Amelia kept her face impassive, conscious that there were guardians watching her, but she naturally couldn’t help but be surprised by what the letter said.
“Thousand-Wing Amelia? What does it say?” asked one of the senior hundred-wings, speaking on behalf of all the other guardians in her camp.
“Read it yourself.” Amelia carelessly tossed the letter toward the speaker, who scrambled to catch it. Soon after, their mouth fell open in shock.
“Is this really true, ser...?” the senior hundred-wing asked at last.
“The owls don’t make baseless claims, do they?” Amelia said with a glance at the owl, who nodded emphatically.
“Ramza’s abdication and the truce between the Azure Knights and the Eighth Legion are incredible themselves...” the senior hundred-wing went on, “but surely all that about a horde of corpses rising out of the ground can’t really...”
“Well, what you all think is no concern of mine. What is clear is that what was a deathly boring battle that had nothing to do with me has finally gotten entertaining.”
“Erm...” a young hundred-wing began tremulously. “With all due respect, ser, what exactly is entertaining?”
Amelia cocked her head to one side. “‘What’?” she repeated. “Aren’t you entertained?”
Oh, the sensations she would taste, the response she would feel as her blade bit into corpse flesh. Just the thought made her heart leap. Amelia ran her tongue over her lips, and the hundred-wing trembled.
“I feel nothing but terror at the idea of a horde of the dead. Not only that, but the one controlling them is this new emperor...”
“Pathetic. You’re senior officers, aren’t you? In name, at least. Now, this Darmés who appears to be controlling the corpses must be a unique mage indeed...” Amelia chuckled to herself. “I certainly cannot fault his taste.”
If there were any guardians who might have shared Amelia’s opinion, none of them were here. Those present only stared with drawn faces at Amelia as she smiled. To Amelia, the imperial army in front of her had become as unworthy of her attention as crawling ants.
In any case, I won’t be able to get the full picture stuck here. It’s safe to assume that Twin Lions at Dawn was over the moment the Azure Knights and the Eighth Legion joined hands. The best course of action now is to return to Mekia for the time being. Blessed Wing Lara will certainly think so, and surely the seraph too.
Amelia pictured Sofitia in all her divinity. Then, she looked back at the owl and curtly declared her intentions.
“Understood, ser. I will tell Master Zephyr without delay.”
As the owl dashed away, Amelia reached into her pocket and drew forth a white pocket watch engraved with the likeness of the goddess Strecia. She pressed open the lid, checked the time, then issued her commands.
“The archers are to shoot the imperials full of arrows until their quivers run dry. I want this battle over within three hours, at most.”
Discontented voices rose up from her soldiers. “With all due respect, ser, the enemy outnumbers us two-to-one, even if we do have them cornered. Wiping them out in three hours isn’t—?!”
Amelia didn’t wait to hear the end. She reached, seized the protesting senior hundred-wing by the collar, and pulled him close.
“Thousand-Wing Amelia?!”
“Our opponent already has one foot in the grave. We have the advantage of terrain. Their superior numbers are irrelevant. But if it’s still beyond your abilities...” Her other hand stretched toward her sword. The blood draining from his face, the senior hundred-wing recited back his orders.
Not long after this, arrows began to fly, skewering imperial soldiers left, right, and center.
The situation is descending into chaos. But chaos suits me too. Amelia smiled cruelly as the Winged Crusaders’ onslaught grew still fiercer.
The Bloody Sword banners—a single blade drenched in scarlet on a black field—fluttered gleefully in the breeze as though they were responding to Amelia’s bloodlust.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login