III
Neinhardt’s Camp, the Royal Army
When word that Osmund had been killed in battle reached Cornelius, he sent orders to the troops on the front lines to make a temporary retreat. To fill the gap in their forces this created, he sent his chief of staff, Neinhardt, with six thousand soldiers under his banner.
A few hours had passed since then. The overcast skies that had persisted for several days suddenly opened up, revealing refreshing blue skies that stretched over the battlefield where, in response to Neinhardt’s summons, Lambert and Lara arrived at his camp.
“Why were Major General Osmund’s forces the only ones to be flattened like that...?”
Neinhardt was aware that in recent days, there had been a spate of small-scale nighttime raids. It remained unclear what the imperial army had sought to achieve with them. Regardless, he didn’t believe for a moment that the Royal Army had let their guard down.
This raised the question as to why Osmund’s unit alone had suffered such devastation. Earlier, Neinhardt had gone to examine the place where Osmund had fallen. He had learned as a result of his survey that far too many of the soldiers had died without a weapon in their hand. Lambert and Lara, meanwhile, had also weathered large-scale attacks that night, but neither had taken more than minimal losses. It would have been easy to call it the result of a difference in the generals’ abilities, but Neinhardt did not, in fact, believe that Osmund had been less able a commander than the other two. He had not come to hold a core role in the Seventh Legion under the command of Paul, the God of the Battlefield, for nothing.
“Osmund was sometimes rash, but he wasn’t careless,” Lambert said, then fell silent, knitting his brow.
The battle had, by and large, progressed according to the Royal Army’s wishes. As such, the effect of the first death of a general in the First Allied Legion on the soldiers had been significant.
Neinhardt looked at Lara, who held her teacup. She returned him a thin smile.
“Don’t look to me for answers. I don’t even remember what this ‘Osmund’ looked like. What I will say, if I may, is simply this—the battlefield culls the weak without mercy.”
“You think I’ll listen to some chit of a girl insult Osmund?”
Lambert’s eyes bored into Lara with the ferocity of a wild beast. Most would have broken down trembling before such a gaze, but Lara was apparently unperturbed. Only her smile turned icy.
“It appears I’ve much displeased you, Lambert the Bold, but I was speaking not only of people, but rather of a truth that holds for all living things—a law of nature. Come, I will forgive your rudeness toward me. I am mindful that it is the duty of those with power to be lenient to those without.”
“Oho...” Lambert’s voice grew softer. “Not enough to besmirch Osmund’s name, now you come for me as well.”
Lara raised her hand carelessly. “You’ll forgive me if I insulted you. I’ve never been one to lie or flatter.” She flashed another smile without warmth, then took a delicate sip of tea.
The air between them crackled, as though at any moment they might fly at each other with swords drawn. Before Neinhardt could come between them, he was beaten to it by the young man with flaxen hair who stood behind Lara—Johann Strider.
“Blessed Wing Lara, I wish you would stop picking fights where it isn’t necessary. We have an alliance. Do you want to embarrass the seraph?”
Johann’s words had a powerful effect on Lara. In an instant, the look on her face went from easy assurance to blankness. She was clearly perturbed. Neinhardt, who had never seen her like this before, found it quite startling.
Next, Johann turned to Lambert, inclining his head. “General Lambert, I offer my sincere apologies for my commander.”
Lambert’s response to the apology was to childishly turn his face away from Johann, so Neinhardt answered for him.
“As do I,” he said. “He does tend to forget to act his age.”
“’Tis the nature of having an exceptional commander that you torment one another, I suppose.”
Caught between the piercing glares, they snickered.
Lara let out a small breath through her nose. “In my opinion, it’s likely that the large raid last night had Major General Osmund’s unit as its target from the outset.”
Lambert still looked resentful, but Neinhardt caught his small nod.
“Do you agree, General Lambert?”
“It is true that, despite hitting us with the raid, they didn’t seem much interested in attacking. It would explain everything if their goal was to keep myself and that...that commander pinned down,” Lambert said.
What he said made sense. Neinhardt, too, felt sure that, as Lara had just suggested, Osmund’s unit had been targeted. But that couldn’t have been all that’d gone wrong to result in such a devastating attack.
“I can’t say I’m entirely satisfied,” Lara said, “but thinking it over all day won’t alter the facts. On which note, you’ll excuse me if I go on ahead—my position does not afford me time for leisure. The two of you may go on talking to your hearts’ content.”
There was a crash as a fist came down on the table like a boulder.
“We aren’t done here!” Lambert growled.
“I am done.” Deaf to all protest, Lara rose from her chair, then swept out of the camp, Johann following with his head down, awkwardly scratching at his hair.
That went well, Neinhardt thought as Lambert kicked over Lara’s chair. He chewed over what Lara had said. She was right—what was done was done, and there was no point in lingering over it. And yet so long as he couldn’t douse the sense that something was missing, he felt he had to keep thinking about it.
“Snotty, stupid little girl! How’d you like that! And that!”
Looking past Lambert, Neinhardt watched as the chair, which had done nothing wrong, lost all semblance of its original shape.
For now, I need to do something about this. Knowing how exhausting it was to calm Lambert down when he flew into a rage, Neinhardt leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“Welcome back, ser!”
Johann returned the salutes of the assembled guardians as he mounted his horse. He then promptly turned to Lara, who was astride her own horse beside him, and said, “You do know, don’t you?”
Lara seemed to mock his deliberate vagueness as she replied, “Obviously.” Johann couldn’t help a pained smile. Making sure his displeasure showed on his face, he went on.
“Does that mean you’re not going to let me in on the secret either?”
Lara turned toward him for the first time. Entirely contrary to Johann’s expectations, she looked thoroughly surprised.
“You can’t be serious?” she said.
“I apologize for my inadequacies, Blessed Wing.” It was no good expecting an average mind to be able to infer the reasoning of a genius. Johann inclined his head as Lara let out a sigh of something between disbelief and resignation.
“None of it was directed at us, but you do know that before last night’s attack, there had been small-scale nighttime raids some days?”
“Yes. The first night they were caught off guard, but of course they were on their guard from the second night on. And yet the raids continued. To be honest, I couldn’t see what they were trying to achieve.”
Lara sniffed.
“It seemed pointless, but it wasn’t. My suspicion is that the imperial army used the confusion caused by the raids to gradually sneak skilled operatives—shimmers, for example—into the midst of the Royal Army.”
“Shimmers...?” Johann said slowly, then... “Oh!”
“So you worked it out. A battle of this scale? An unknown face here and there wouldn’t rouse anyone’s suspicions. If the soldiers on watch were dispatched by the shimmers just before the attack, it makes sense that the Royal Army allowed themselves to be helplessly overrun. Heightened vigilance always leads to carelessness somewhere else. It’s how people keep themselves mentally and physically balanced. Our opponent saw the opportunity and exploited it masterfully. I suppose I should have expected it of her.”
“Rosenmarie von Berlietta,” Johann said. “Just as devious as her reputation suggests, then, isn’t she? But Lara,” Johann added in exasperation, “you were mean yourself to not let on when you knew all that.”
Lara snorted. “As I have said before, I have no intention whatsoever of turning soft. It was the height of generosity on my part just to hint at the answer. In any case, it’s obvious that this battle isn’t going anywhere. I really could not care less what Rosenmarie is up to anymore.”
As the last word left her lips, she spurred her horse to a spirited gallop. Johann hurried to keep up.
So her mind is already elsewhere... he thought. The Royal Army can’t have heard about what happened to the Azure Knights and the Eighth Legion, if just now was anything to go by. They wouldn’t have time to idle away on investigations if they knew.
The First Allied Legion renewed its assault on Kier Fortress the following morning. Naturally, they were on the highest possible alert against another nighttime attack, but the imperial army did not come again.
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