Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 26 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Delivered Cargo

Around seven days had passed since Ryoma Mikoshiba and the others raised the siege of Jermuk. Ryoma stood on a watchtower overlooking the fortress city. The Malfist twins were behind him as he gazed over the vast plains and forests that covered the surrounding lands.

Because they were still at war, the trio wore armor and kept a close eye on their surroundings. A stray arrow could still hit them, even in a fortress. They were in the Kingdom of Myest’s territory, after all. Even though they were a part of an alliance of four countries, they knew that they weren’t completely safe—especially in times of strife.

I can relax knowing I have Laura and Sara guarding me, thought Ryoma as he activated a sight-enhancing technique. He held a pair of binoculars, a device unknown on Earth. These binoculars, ironically dubbed the Eyes of Meneos, could detect the activation of verbal thaumaturgy and would highlight it with a green glow. Seems to be no signs of the enemy...

Although their surprise attack, helped by the cover of the sudden rain, had successfully ended Brittantia and Tarja’s siege of Jermuk, they were still at war.

We’ve culled their numbers. While I think they’ve retreated, it’s still a somewhat naive hope.

There were only three main ways to end a war, although other possibilities did exist. One way was to defeat the enemy and undermine their morale. Conversely, one’s own side could be defeated by the enemy and lose its morale. The final way to end a war involved exhausting all resources on both sides, leading to a ceasefire or peace after negotiations.

Everything else depended on the effectiveness of these three methods.

The best way to destroy enemy morale was to decimate their ranks, leaving a pile of bodies behind. Even if the enemy were hungry for retribution, as the bodies of their allies piled up, it was human nature to begin to value one’s own life over revenge.

The Mikoshiba Grand Duchy’s surprise attack was successful, but it wasn’t enough to carve the road to victory for the Kingdom of Myest. Ryoma proved he could crush the sixty thousand men of the Brittantia-Tarja alliance with his two-pronged plan, skipping an audience with the ruler of Myest and using the storm as cover.

The two-kingdom alliance had faced a drastic defeat, with the blood of their soldiers staining the plains—around ten thousand fatalities. In comparison, the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy army faced a light number of casualties, around one thousand. Only a small number of soldiers suffered grave or irreversible injuries, accounting for around eighty percent of their total injuries.

However, the injured were being administered secret potions from the dark elves, ensuring a swift recovery. If they had lost an arm or a leg, they couldn’t return to fighting, but those whose limbs suffered severe damage without being entirely severed could be healed rather quickly.

After a few days, most severely wounded soldiers could return to their units. Considering the battle involved over ten thousand troops, the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy army only lost around one hundred men. It was a miracle that defied common practice on Earth.

In that regard, Earth has something more advanced than anything available on Rearth—magic. 

The result of the battle was thanks to the thorough training each soldier had received and their armor, crafted with resources from the creatures that roamed the Wortenia Peninsula.

Well, we spend money on equipment differently from other nations.

In terms of victory or defeat, the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy emerged with a resounding triumph. The soldiers had been detailed to dispose of the bodies of their deceased enemies to prevent the risk of disease spreading. When they finally had a moment’s break from this unpleasant duty, their morale skyrocketed.

But the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy hadn’t done enough damage to the enemy forces to declare the war was over.

Just under ten thousand dead... If the enemy’s forces were around sixty thousand, they lost about fifteen or sixteen percent of their frontline forces. By modern military standards, that’s serious, but wouldn’t be considered total destruction. I’m still unsure if I can apply that metric to warfare in this world, but I guess I’m not too far off the mark.

Troop attrition was a fundamental concept in understanding modern military affairs. The amount of soldiers unable to fight determined the outcome. Losing around thirty percent of one’s army would force that side to retreat and reorganize, rendering them useless and resulting in total defeat.

That was based on modern wars fought with guns from a distance. Ryoma doubted he could apply such logic to Earth, where battles were fought with swords and spears. Regarding the siege of Jermuk, applying his logic seemed appropriate.

Heh. Considering the literal meaning of “total destruction,” it’s strange those in this world use it to refer to the loss of only thirty percent of a side’s forces...

Those not well-versed in military affairs might find it an odd way of determining total destruction. That said, it wasn’t merely an amateur’s opinion. It had long solidified itself as a major term in military vocabulary, so there would be no way to change it.

When casualties were around fifty percent, it was known as total annihilation. But when they were around one hundred percent, it was known as total destruction.

The definitions of the terms seemed fitting when broken down, although they felt off when contrasting them with the percentages. Ryoma wasn’t alone in such thinking.

I don’t really plan on splitting hairs over some words a prestigious scholar coined.

Not to mention, it wasn’t vital knowledge for an ordinary person in Japan to possess. It was commonly used in more specialized environments, so it would have been strange for your average citizen to suddenly using military jargon like this. Ultimately, “total destruction” meant heavy enough losses that the army would need to retreat to reorganize and could no longer fight.

Based on that information, the damage Ryoma had done to the army—around fifteen percent—wasn’t enough to be considered total destruction. It wouldn’t be surprising if the enemy army regrouped and attacked again the next day.

But it seems the generals of Brittantia and Tarja didn’t opt for that. Not like I can say modern knowledge is entirely accurate. The question is whether they simply chose not to attack, or were unable to do so. It’s also possible that both sides of the Brittantia-Tarja alliance have differing ideas about strategy. That could also be why they’re late regrouping.

Ryoma’s army had raised the siege and had just under forty thousand men. The remaining soldiers stationed within Jermuk, guarding the border, were a little over ten thousand men. Combined, that made for around fifty thousand soldiers. The enemy had defeated nearly ten thousand additional soldiers at Jermuk, so it was a large army closer to sixty thousand men.

A simple calculation would suggest there were approximately fifty thousand enemy soldiers stationed on the southern border of the Kingdom of Myest. However, Ryoma couldn’t be sure the enemy’s numbers would remain at that level.

If we were to fight now, we’d be roughly equal in numbers. However, their force is a bit too depleted to stage another full-fledged siege again, mused Ryoma as he considered one question. Had the enemy come up with a plan to compensate for their lack of military prowess, or were they waiting for reinforcements? They’re probably just waiting for reinforcements. 

At least, Ryoma couldn’t find a reason for the enemy not to call for reinforcements. He didn’t have any definite information about the southern kingdoms’ plans, so he couldn’t be certain. Judging from the available information, no competent commander would have their men retreat.

Jermuk should have fallen, but it didn’t go according to plan. Instead of luring the enemy forces to them, Brittantia and Tarja were forced to lift the siege and retreat, ruining the reputations of their generals. Worst-case scenario for them could be taking full responsibility by having their heads lopped off as punishment.

Ryoma believed that a general capable of leading an allied army would understand the natural consequences. This meant there was only one answer to the question of whether the enemy was following some plan or was just waiting for reinforcements.

I wonder how many troops they’re bringing.

Like all the southern kingdoms, Brittantia and Tarja were small countries rumored to have been the locations of much bloodshed. To ensure their survival, they often employed a larger army than one might normally expect for a nation their size.

I should at least expect another thirty to fifty thousand soldiers are on the way. However, those numbers are purely conjecture.

He had no concrete evidence to support this conjecture. The scale of the reinforcements would depend on how much Brittantia and Tarja had prepared for this war.

If both countries had prepared thoroughly, it would not have been unrealistic for them to send upward of one hundred thousand soldiers. No matter how long we stay holed up in this castle, they could still overwhelm us with sheer numbers.

Besides, there was another issue. The battle had reduced the roughly twenty thousand soldiers garrisoning Jermuk by more than half.

Jermuk’s forces took a bigger hit than I expected. Since they were in the fortified city, they should have had a defensive advantage and shouldn’t have taken so many losses... But I suppose it was inevitable. The enemy had seized the initiative, and the garrison had no idea if reinforcements were coming. The besiegers also had three times more soldiers than Jermuk.

In addition, Jermuk’s defense wasn’t being led by a high-level general. The initial surprise attack had disadvantaged the Kingdom of Myest. Because the reinforcements from Endesia were late, the morale of those defending Jermuk had fallen, leading to more fatalities. Considering all that, it was a surprise that Jermuk hadn’t already fallen.

It is puzzling that Jermuk held out these past several months. That must mean the allied forces’ generals were holding back. But why? Were they really just planning to lure reinforcements to Jermuk and attack them? Suddenly, a certain possibility crossed Ryoma’s mind. I feel like the Kingdom of Myest’s response was also a little strange... In that case, that can only mean...

Ryoma didn’t want to consider this possibility, but his instincts were on high alert. He let out a deep sigh.

Well, there’s not much I can do about it right now. All I can do is deal with it once I’ve discerned the enemy’s next move, thought Ryoma as he looked at the binoculars in his hand. These worked exactly as I hoped. They did good work making these, considering I gave them a pretty shoddy description. Good work, Nelcius. You did a fine job with these.

Ryoma had asked the dark elves to make the binoculars. Not only did they strengthen one’s eyesight, but they also had night vision and shades to protect from sunlight. They were waterproof and fogproof, and thanks to the materials harvested from the creatures that lived on the Wortenia Peninsula, they were also incredibly durable and lightweight. Altogether, they were as excellent as any military equipment could be.

If word about the binoculars got out on Earth, armies worldwide would want them. Ryoma found the dark elves’ proficiency with verbal thaumaturgy admirable.

I did ask a lot of them, seeing as they didn’t have much time to put them together. Next time I see them, I need to think of a gift to give them.

People only worked diligently when they received compensation or recognition for it. Without those, people wouldn’t work. Of course, the dark elves—a type of demi-human—weren’t human. People who racially discriminated against demi-humans had probably never once thought to pay them for their work. If anything, they probably only thought about putting them to work.

Some people might have viewed them as wild animals or monsters that needed to be driven away. In fact, many people living on the western continent deemed demi-humans as a lesser race who had lost in the holy war. But Ryoma believed that demi-humans, who were intelligent and capable of emotion, deserved equal treatment.

Though, that’s not something that can be achieved overnight.

It was challenging to change a person’s preconceptions, which Nelcius, the chief of the dark elves, and Ryoma knew all too well. That was why the dark elves didn’t leave the Wortenia Peninsula and avoided interacting with human society. Their relationship with the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy was an extreme exception. With only the duchy connecting them to human society, rewarding them with money or goods was pointless.

Of course, the dark elves and the other demi-humans would become subjects of the Mikoshiba duchy.

Once it came to that, currency would become necessary, although bartering was currently their main form of trade. After all, the dark elves had no opportunity to use currency anywhere but in Sirius.

In that case, I should ask Simone if she can arrange the exchange of goods. If I send them money or jewels, it won’t mean much to them and will just be shiny decorations.

The dark elves were enamored with alcohol, tobacco, tea, sweets, and spices such as pepper. These items weren’t readily available on the Wortenia Peninsula. Having lost the war and been forced to live secluded in an uncivilized land for nearly five hundred years, the dark elves valued these items more than anything else, as they were the closest they would get to civilization.

It was probably safe to say they were almost addicted to such goods. They had restrained themselves for almost five hundred years. Now that their desires had been unleashed, they couldn’t stop themselves.

Plus, the dark elves have very long lives. It must be hellish living without any creature comforts.

For humans, living long and never aging was a mere pipe dreams. However, it was closer to a never-ending nightmare of bare survival for the elves who had lived close to a thousand years.

There was a difference between simply living and enjoying living.

Ryoma had foreseen the dark elves’ reactions to such items when he first began negotiations with Nelcius.

Well, it’s kinda the same for me...

Ryoma’s taste for gourmet food—a trait he shared with Koichiro—didn’t suit a young man of his age. Ever since he was summoned to Earth from Rearth, his desire to eat delicious foods had intensified and became almost unbearable—a stark contrast to his life in Japan. He deeply longed for what he couldn’t have.

That’s why once you finally get your hands on something you really like, you’re reluctant to let it go...

Compared to life in Japan, Earth was a huge downgrade in quality. Even though Ryoma wouldn’t have said that culture and technology on Rearth was inferior to Earth, comparing some aspects of daily life was laughable.

In Japan, one could fill a glass with water by turning the faucet. However, those on Earth had to use a well and draw water. There was a vast difference in convenience.

One couldn’t drink the water unless it had been boiled to eliminate impurities. There was water that was made safe to drink with endowed thaumaturgy, but that was only available in districts where the nobles and wealthy merchants lived. That was how it was here on Earth, making life in Japan feel like paradise.

I know people say it doesn’t taste the best, but Japan has some of the safest tap water in the world.

Even securing water, something essential for survival, was a huge undertaking here on Earth. Considering that mere survival was such a struggle here, there was no comparison between life on Earth and the level of luxury goods and cultural arts back on Rearth.

That’s not to say Earth is without its own outstanding works of art and cuisine.

The royal castle in the Kingdom of Rhoadseria’s royal capital, Pireas, had portraits of previous rulers painstakingly painted by royal court artists. Ryoma didn’t think much of the very generous portraits, but putting aside personal taste and trying to be more objective, the artists clearly possessed exceptional talent.

In the same vein, there were some delicious foods on Earth. But they were few and far between, and none really stood out compared to Rearth’s cuisine. Due to there not being much variety, Earth’s food was generally of lower quality.

It was very much a mixed bag. After all, enhancing one’s own skills required constant refinement.

My situation is like looking for gold in a river, except there’s a ton of sand there.

Not even the high-level paintings really matched Ryoma’s taste.

Styles of art included impressionism, neoclassicism, realism, and symbolism. There were many schools of art, and many artists, yet few people liked them all equally. Even if someone liked the majority of all art, they would still have a preference when comparing two pieces. People’s personal tastes varied greatly, and having a wide selection was essential in catering to those differences.

The same could be said for cuisine. And that was why it was hard to let go once one discovered cuisine they liked. If it were too expensive to buy or a rare item that was difficult to get, one could give up on it. If it was still within reach and only required a little effort on someone’s part, the craving for it became greater.

In that sense, even the binoculars Ryoma had in his hands were special, labor-intensive items. The dark elves, constantly striving to improve their craft, had frantically assembled them. The endeavor showed the results of coexistence and co-prosperity.

Though it’s not without its problems...

There were no issues with the weapons, endowed thaumaturgy, or medicine the elves made. It was all high quality—probably too high quality.

The main problem was the lengthy crafting process and the difficulty of obtaining the necessary materials. There were also, at times, small differences in the quality of the finished items.

Only a few dark elves could skillfully use verbal thaumaturgy to make weapons and medicine, which limited the rate at which new items could be crafted. Ensuring the quality of those items took a significant amount of time. The monsters used as materials were also a problem.

The guild set the danger level for the monsters to be harvested. Most of the time the monsters were higher than Rank B, which meant they required a lot of time to prepare and hunt for.

As a result, mass production was impossible. The same went for armor, helmets, swords, and medicinal items. Production took years, so they barely had enough to equip the current army. During wartime, the supply of equipment would decline at an alarming rate, owing to items being damaged or simply lost.

War was fundamentally a resource-consuming conflict.

Considering the consequences of war, Ryoma wanted to maintain their current stock, but that was proving difficult.

After all, it took a lot of time to put together these binoculars, or our hang gliders. I wanted to have more of them made and stored away, but... This isn’t something that can be solved by throwing money and objects at them, thought Ryoma.

It would require time and labor, and the dark elves weren’t known for cutting corners—which could be a downside when time was of the essence. They prided themselves on that fact, though. Naturally, it wouldn’t be an issue if the dark elves’ creations were considered one of a kind items for personal use. The basic functions of the items were fantastic.

However, the army might find inconsistencies among the personalized items if they decided to repurpose them. That was an issue that couldn’t be ignored.

So long as they’re handmade, there’ll always be differences in the quality of individual items...

Ryoma wasn’t criticizing the artisans’ ability. When it came to special, high quality items, having them made to order by a skilled artisan was always the better option. In fact, as long as money wasn’t an issue, it was common on Earth to have weapons or armor made to order for the user.

Unfortunately, artisans were not suited for mass-producing items for many people, such as an army. The items would need to be uniformly high quality.

As Nelcius says, the thaumaturgists who work on verbal thaumaturgy are the kind of people who take a lot of pride in their work. Well, demi-humans, not humans...

Even if mass production wasn’t possible, Ryoma wanted to quickly devise a way to handcraft the work, meaning less work for the verbal thaumaturgists. Ryoma didn’t plan to handcraft everything; he knew that wouldn’t be possible.

Although it may be too much to ask of absolute beginners, they should have something to do. If we have them work on what they can, and leave the finishing touches to the experts, that should speed up production.

The shift to mass production could offend the artisans who were proud of their work. Denying the younger generation the opportunity to contribute would hinder their personal growth and worsen production. This issue existed in the modern world too.

That reminds me of how Asuka’s dad used to complain about that a lot.

Ryoma pictured the relative he hadn’t met for many years. Asuka Kiryu’s father, Kensuke Kiryu, was a salaryman working at a major manufacturing company. He was a manager who overlooked onsite housing construction.

As expected, the manufacturing company where Kensuke Kiryu worked at had all-new recruits, fresh out of university, undergo manual training. That wasn’t an issue in itself, but there were many other companies that refused to invest in educating their recruits.

In housing construction, subcontractors and sub-subcontractors were frequently used. However, these companies still adhered to traditional master-apprentice values, where seniors would teach recruits.

Specifically, they would learn on the job by watching their seniors at work. It didn’t differ much from mimicking and learning the movements of one’s martial arts master.

Even Ryoma had no clear memory of being taught Mikoshiba-style martial arts by Koichiro. He spent a lot of time watching Koichiro’s movements, which were written in ancient scrolls, and then recreated them.

One’s intuition was important in martial arts training, so it was vital to mimic the movements.

Well, I can’t deny the importance of learning from others... In fact, that’s how I learned from my grandfather.

Ryoma had consistently used this tried-and-true method, achieving a level of proficiency that only required extensive practice. The same could be said for learning a craft.

When Ryoma was living in Japan, he saw a TV show about metal workers who built a giant disk by hand. The show frequently highlighted Japan’s technological prowess, and a certain episode showcased how the metal workers used a technique known as hera-shibori to achieve precision that machinery couldn’t match.

He clearly remembered how impressed he felt watching their devotion to their studies.

It had been a few years since Ryoma was summoned to Earth, so he didn’t know if those tradesmen still worked at their craft. There was a chance that the workers’ movements could have been recorded by motion capture, then that data could have been used to program machinery to recreate the artisans’ work.

There were talks of doing that already due to the lack of people wanting to take up the profession.

In order to record the data, the artisan first needed to create the product and meticulously record the whole process. Experienced artisans were essential for this process, as only they could make certain items.

It was a part of a craftsman’s skill to be able to make small, hard-to-describe changes as well as use their abilities and general intuition to make the product into what the patron wanted.

Based on that, it would be difficult to achieve the same results from just following a manual, without knowing the true intention behind the product. Naturally, reaching such a level required a willingness to undergo a lot of adversity as well as trial and error. It was a difficult path.

Although it was safe to call it an ascetic practice, it was the road to becoming an artisan.

But I wonder if it’s an appropriate way of teaching everyone... Hmm. It’d probably work on craftsmen, but not officer workers.

Some people could mimic their master’s style, while others could not. The process existed as a good measure to determine if people would be able to handle future training.

While such a method could potentially have applications to professional development, it wouldn’t be effective for the mass training of ordinary office employees.

Kensuke Kiryu and other senior employees often complained about new recruits who disliked that way of learning and transferred to different companies. It boiled down to whether they were tradesmen who wished to devote their lives to the craft or simply viewed it as a means of making money.

Many masters and veteran workers taught that way because it was how they had developed. Originally, such a method was akin to a company entrance exam. As society modernized, it lost its nuance and became a mere shadow of its former self.

I feel like opening the doors, gathering many people, picking those with talent, and providing them with a specialized education is a good process. Productivity would greatly improve if some parts of the process were streamlined with handcrafting or assembly line work, with artisans handling the finishing touches.

No matter how many times Ryoma asked for these changes, the situation did not improve. The elves handling production simply didn’t realize the necessity of it.

The artisans would either make their opposition clear or pretend to go along with it and wait for the situation to cool off. Unless they actually accepted it, production volume wouldn’t improve.

If Ryoma forced them to change their system, it would undermine the friendly relationship that he worked so hard to build.

I’ve heard that improving both production and sales is difficult.

Ryoma had no experience in an actual workplace, so he didn’t know for sure, but there were plenty of useful resources on the internet or the bookshelves of stores and libraries, There were many descriptions of managers who, because they didn’t know what they were doing, caused confusion and a lack of direction among their subordinates.

There’s nothing more dangerous than an “improvement plan” that doesn’t take the actual workplace conditions into consideration.

Oftentimes, a plan made with good intentions added to employees’ workload and reduced productivity and security. When overly complicated manuals ignored operational efficiency, those at the workplace created their own manual for reference.

This form of cutting corners could be attributed to a lack of awareness, resulting from managers giving their subordinates too much work. Said development occurred when work was sent to the workplace without considering whether it was suitable for that setting.

Nothing ever good came from clueless bosses sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.

But if they pay too much attention to what people say at the workplace, then it’s hard to make any drastic changes, mused Ryoma, considering that companies were essentially groups.

If one were to ask what the group’s objective was, it would be to have various employees come together and make a profit. Many companies made empty promises of contributing to society, when their true purpose was to make a profit.

Should they not turn a profit, they would go bankrupt or have to slash their expenses to save money and survive a little longer. There was one effective, easy method that ensured the survival of a company, though.

Layoffs.

However, not all office workers would readily accept that. The company’s higher-ups had to cut off their employees’ way of living in order to ensure the longevity of the company.

That’s a decision that pays no regard to the thoughts and feelings of their employees. As far as I know, there aren’t many companies in Japan that dismiss their employees in such a reckless manner. Even so, the callous essence of layoffs remains the same.

Of course, that was regarding layoffs. If the higher-ups listened to employees and implemented their ideas, it would be harder for them to make a profit and could cause information security issues.

In the end, what was important was conversation and explanation. Clarifying the company’s goals would enable the higher-ups to understand everything in the production workflow.

However, that did take time.

Even Ryoma knew he would need to talk with Nelcius about his subordinates, the verbal thaumaturgists, but that wasn’t possible right now. He was in Jermuk, a fortress city located far south of the Wortenia Peninsula.

If anything, it’s a problem for later... I expect my grandfather will do a good job up there anyway. Or at least, I hope he doesn’t mess up our relations with the elves.

Suddenly, a messenger ran to the top of the tower with hurried steps. Judging from their appearance, they had urgent news, but they didn’t look worried or frightened. The messenger looked rather happy and relieved, which only meant they had good news.

Laura had the messenger relay the message to her before whispering it into Ryoma’s ear.

“A message from the lookouts on the northern wall. There is a group heading toward Jermuk bearing the Kingdom of Myest’s flag. They are around three thousand men strong, and a convoy appears to be following them.”

Ryoma lowered the binoculars and adopted a suspicious expression as he digested the information. “I see... I was curious how this situation would resolve itself, but it seems this is how... Not what I’d hoped for. Oh well...”

An oppressive silence filled the atmosphere.

Ryoma, the young ruler, exuded a cold, sharp aura. The messenger began to shiver ever so slightly in response.

Several seconds passed.

Eventually, Ryoma—having analyzed the situation—smiled curtly as he issued orders.

“Laura, could you send word to General Randall to prepare the soldiers for immediate deployment? I assume he’s already received a report from the northern watchtower, but just to be sure...”

In giving this order, Ryoma came perilously close to overstepping the bounds of what a mere commander of foreign reinforcements had any business doing. But as unfortunate as it was, Hans Randall was lacking as a general. While Ryoma wouldn’t say Randall wasn’t completely talentless, he would say the man was rather ordinary.

Although Randall was in charge of defending the fortress city of Jermuk, he usually was the leader of a thousand-man unit. He had no experience leading over a thousand men, so he wasn’t well equipped for the task.

Not to mention that Jermuk was currently under a wartime regime, meaning normal government procedures had been disrupted. It meant that Randall, who was leading the defense of Jermuk, had a growing list of responsibilities. The man also tended to pay excessive attention to his honor.

Although Randall was grateful to Ryoma for leading the reinforcements and saving them from an urgent situation, he was clearly worried about his position.

The fact that, in terms of overall status, Ryoma was the highest authority in the fortress city of Jermuk only added to Randall’s worries. Hans Randall was a part of the chain of command of the Kingdom of Myest and was the person most directly responsible for defending Jermuk. However, the appearance of someone higher in status than him had threatened to upend the chain of command.

Randall had realized that himself. In such a situation, doing anything slightly outside the norm could have huge repercussions.

I need to be careful around people like Randall. Any communication issues could lead to all sorts of trouble.

If Hans Randall proved truly incapable, Ryoma would have come up with a solution to deal with it. He could think of plenty, in fact.

Ryoma could threaten him with violence or curry favor with money. In a worst-case scenario, he could order the Igasaki clan to make Randall “disappear.” After all, they were at war with the allied forces of Brittantia and Tarja.

People commonly died or went missing in war, a truth reflected by the numerous corpses littering the ground outside the fortress city’s walls. Under these conditions, there were numerous methods to dispose of a person.

We could say he tried to desert his post, or that he was conspiring with the enemy...

Naturally, Ryoma didn’t want to use such measures against a fellow member of the four-kingdom alliance. Many people had incorrect perceptions about Ryoma, as evidenced by the fearsome moniker “Devil of Heraklion.” In fact, he was a rational and intellectual person with a strong sense of morality and obligation.

Even so, he was prepared to use ruthless and inhumane means to achieve victory.

Though I don’t have to go that far this time.

While Randall was a mediocre general, he had sacrificed a lot. He had protected Jermuk for nearly two months without a clear idea of when reinforcements would arrive. That was proof of his loyalty to the Kingdom of Myest.

It is true that the defense of Jermuk was a military success, but I’m not sure Hans Randall really deserves much credit for it.

From what Ryoma could tell, the enemy army had intentionally chosen not to take Jermuk. However, that was merely conjecture; Ryoma had no way of proving it.

If Ryoma were to share this theory, some people would assume he was simply jealous of Hans’s military achievement, and Hans himself might take it as a personal affront. On top of that, it would undermine the confidence the soldiers currently holed up in Jermuk, making them question their own commander’s ability. This would raise the question of who in Myest was fit to lead an army of ten thousand soldiers.

Simply removing Randall might not be the best idea. For now, we just need to make a few compromises.

In short, Ryoma needed to ensure Randall saved face as much as possible. Laura must have picked up on Ryoma’s intentions. She remained silent and nodded before turning on her heels to deliver the message.

Sara put her finger on her chin, tilting her head in thought. Her sister’s report seemed to have slightly disturbed her.

In reality, she was right to be.

At the very least, anyone with some knowledge of war and strategy would feel somewhat uneasy after hearing that report.

“I wonder what’s going on. The royal capital likely recognizes that we have limited resources after a siege, so I can understand them sending a convoy. But... Only sending three thousand troops as reinforcements? That’s barely enough for a vanguard.” Sara mused. Ryoma was caught off guard by her thorny tone of voice as she shared her suspicion.

It’s rare to see Sara so expressive, thought Ryoma.

That said, she was right to question the number of reinforcements and be slightly unsettled by this news. Jermuk desperately needed weapons and rations for the troops, but sending only three thousand soldiers along with those supplies was laughable.

The enemy alliance had at least fifty thousand soldiers. If Myest really wanted to change the tide of war, they would need tens of thousands of reinforcements.

However, Myest had only sent three thousand. It was incredibly strange for a country that wanted to protect its borders to send so few soldiers.

It’s difficult to determine another country’s exact military strength, even when dealing with an allied nation... Looking at these numbers, it’s as if Myest has no intention of defending Jermuk...

Ryoma had reached a different conclusion, though. Once again, it was just conjecture.

“It’s fine. I’m sure we’ll work it out when we meet with them,” said Ryoma as he patted Sara on the head.

The drawbridge at the northern gate creaked as it slowly came down. A group of soldiers bearing the flag of the Kingdom of Myest passed through the wide-open gate. Three thousand soldiers acting as reinforcements led the group, with a line of carts behind them. Ryoma looked at the general of the troop, who was on horseback, and smirked as he approached before speaking.

“Heh, so it’s you...”

Normally, there wasn’t much that a mere three thousand reinforcements could do. But if they arrived alongside an especially capable general...

With a name like the Whirlwind, Ecclesia Marinelle—who is considered one of the strongest generals in the Kingdom of Myest—will surely double the effective strength of the troops, mused Ryoma.

Dispatching an elite commander with just a few thousand soldiers was not considered a standard tactic in war. If anything, it was strange, but there was likely a reason Myest was acting in this way.

“I see you ended up saddled with responsibility for this situation, Lady Ecclesia,” said Ryoma. “Though I saw it coming, I guess you got the short end of the stick...”

Ecclesia, still on horseback, shrugged in response. “Yeah... But you needn’t worry about that. It wouldn’t be smart to make an archduke, who is also the general of the reinforcements, take responsibility for the Kingdom of Myest’s internal shortcomings. It makes more sense for us to deal with it among ourselves.”

“My apologies,” said Ryoma, bowing his head deeply.

Ryoma had an idea the situation would come to this. He had also considered that Ecclesia might have been sentenced to imprisonment or house arrest, so sending her here could be seen as the better option.

Even though the Kingdom of Myest had decided on this, he still felt uneasy and thought the solution was foolish. But he also knew that the government had to distinguish between right and wrong, including that someone had to take responsibility for it.

Ecclesia knew all the risks, but that’s not everything.

Was it her sense of moral responsibility?

Ryoma was still convinced that the plan of sending Ecclesia was necessary in order to save Jermuk. That said, it didn’t erase the price that Ecclesia had to pay. He couldn’t simply accept the consequences after seeing the sacrifice Ecclesia made.

However, Ecclesia slowly shook her head.

“Ever since I agreed to your plan, I knew this could happen, so please don’t worry. Besides, you’ve done a lot more than expected,” she said earnestly.

“Understood. Then, I’ll stop apologizing...” replied Ryoma, nodding.

He focused his sharp gaze on Ecclesia. It seemed rather cold coming from a person who had just apologized, but Ryoma’s gaze told Ecclesia that he wouldn’t accept any half-hearted answers to the questions he was about to ask. He also had to consider how he would conduct himself based on those answers.

After all, the lives of our soldiers are riding on this, thought Ryoma.

A soldier’s job was to fight on the battlefield. That job included killing enemies as well as potentially giving their lives. And so, the job of a general was to order the soldiers to put their lives on the line and fight. Although this seemed akin to telling them to go to their deaths, it was fundamentally quite different.

It was important for Ryoma to justify the actions the soldiers would carry out. Without that, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to give the order.

“If you’re here, then who is organizing the next lot of reinforcements? Surely this can’t be it?” asked Ryoma naturally. Despite her nickname, even Ecclesia could only do so much with three thousand soldiers. At best, it would simply buy time. Ecclesia’s appearance on the front lines means she either finished organizing the armies or passed the work on to someone else.

Ecclesia would have preferred to be on the front lines from the beginning, leading the vanguard if possible.

So, does that mean they had no one else to manage the army in Ecclesia’s place?

Still, Ryoma also thought that three thousand men weren’t all the reinforcements. This left the question: Who had taken over organizing the army?

Did Prime Minister Spiegel take over? Or did the king himself take the initiative?

However, Ecclesia mentioned a name Ryoma hadn’t expected. “General Duran is forming the army in Endesia. The southern nobles of Myest have tremendous faith in him, so I doubt it will take him long.”

“General Duran... You mean Alexis Duran?” Ryoma asked suddenly, shocked by the name. Wait...really?

Ryoma had definitely heard the name Alexis Duran before. Of the three famous generals in the Kingdom of Myest, he was considered the strongest and had served the longest. Due to his old age, General Duran wasn’t in the best condition and had been recovering at home for several years.

Of course, “recovering at home” was just a cover story. It was rumored he had long been turning down any invitations to the royal court for several years, staying locked up at home because of a bumpy relationship with the current king of Myest, King Phillip.

Rumors were just rumors. At this point, Ryoma couldn’t discern the actual truth of the situation. If Ecclesia was telling the truth, their military power was even stronger. But it remained true that Ryoma struggled to make sense of the appearance of such an unexpected person.

Ecclesia laughed as Ryoma looked puzzled, which he rarely was.

“No doubt you’re surprised. I was also shocked when I heard it from His Majesty, but it’s true. I’ve personally met with General Duran and passed my work on to him. He decided he couldn’t sit idly by while the nation was in danger. Spurred him out of his sickbed...”

When Ryoma heard that, he was at a loss for words and mused, If that’s true, that’s good news, but... Is it really the truth? Myest’s survival depended on this war. One could say that General Duran’s decision was commendable, and the timing was impeccable. In fact, it’s suspiciously good timing.

Something was off. To be more exact, Ryoma’s warrior instinct was trying to tell him something. He couldn’t just tell Ecclesia he had a bad feeling about General Duran, though.

I can’t really distrust the Kingdom of Myest’s generals on a simple hunch...

Ecclesia didn’t doubt General Duran’s words at all. There would be no sense in Ryoma sharing his fears with her. He knew that she wouldn’t simply accept what he had to say without any concrete evidence. In a worst-case scenario, she might accuse him of slander. Either scenario could irreparably damage the relationship between the Kingdom of Myest and the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy.

This puts me in a tight spot. I’ll have to get the Igasaki clan into Endesia and monitor the movements of Myest’s generals. We’re already struggling for people... This got really annoying all of a sudden...

Ecclesia tilted her head to the side, confused with Ryoma’s reaction.

“Is there something bothering you?”

“No, no... I wasn’t expecting such good news... Apologies,” said Ryoma, swiftly changing the topic. Since he couldn’t give Ecclesia a clear answer, he had no other option than to be vague.

“You’ve a lot of cargo with you—is it mostly armor and provisions?”

“Yes. We figured they’d all run out while under siege. We gathered food and weapons from the area around Endesia. We also brought some alcohol, given the soldiers’ likely exhaustion from being locked up within the fortress,” responded Ecclesia, looking over her shoulder to a row of carriages.

These carriages were flying a flag with the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy’s emblem, a silver and gold two headed snake. Ryoma had requested this shipment from Sirius to be sent to Nelcius before he left Endesia.

“We also brought some cargo sent from Sirius and addressed to the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy, so please make sure to check the contents later,” said Ecclesia, handing Ryoma a wax-sealed letter.

Honestly, I was kind of antsy waiting for this to arrive. It was quicker than I expected. Probably thanks to Simone sending boats to Sirius, thought Ryoma as he glanced over the letter he received and exhaled with relief.

Within the cargo was a secret weapon that Ryoma had asked Nelcius to make. It was his trump card—one that took labor, time and a lot of money to make. The item had the potential to transform the nature of war on Earth and drastically alter Ryoma’s military capabilities. But he was reluctant to use it and expose its existence to the other countries of the four-kingdom alliance.

Though we might be in an alliance now, no one knows what tomorrow holds, thought Ryoma. Sworn enemies might have existed, but there was no such thing as an ally forever. Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do in this situation.

Ryoma would have to keep the ace up his sleeve a little longer, taking care not to use it thoughtlessly or at the wrong time. But he would need to use it eventually; if not playing this ace meant the enemy ultimately defeated them, there would be no point in keeping it secret.

It gives me some peace of mind knowing I have my trump card to fall back on.

During war, having such a feeling often gave a psychological advantage.

One was more likely to make mistakes if they had lost their composure. Ryoma smiled savagely like a predator who sensed its prey might give in as he watched the horse-drawn carts pass by.

Ecclesia, who was in the corner of Ryoma’s eye, began to speak.

“We brought them as you requested, but... There’s a lot of cargo. It’s hard to believe it’s only weaponry and food. May I ask what on earth you have in those carts?” Ecclesia looked intrigued. After all, Ryoma had them brought on a boat all the way from Sirius. It was only natural that it would pique her curiosity. But he simply remained silent and shook his head, knowing he had to conceal the information. There was good reason to keep the weapon and its capabilities a secret.

If their enemies caught a hint of it, it would halve the effectiveness of the secret weapon. Aside from keeping it secret, Ryoma also understood that without actually seeing it in action, Ecclesia would never believe him, no matter how much he explained how it worked.