Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 27 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Embers of War

Dawn rose over Lubua Plains, stretching south of the Kingdom of Myest.

It had already been seven days since the forces of Lord Mikoshiba had retreated from this battlefield, and today marked the eighth sunrise that stained the eastern sky red.

“Morning already... I’ve pulled another all-nighter, it seems.”

Noticing the light spilling in from the entrance of his tent, Bruno Accordo halted the movement of the quill in his hand. He had been deeply focused on his paperwork.

Two of the three candles on his desk had burned to nearly a third of their original height, while the last had already burned out completely, leaving only a charred wick. He would usually instruct his attendant to replace the candles, but Bruno had been so engrossed that he hadn’t even noticed.

His dedication to his work must have been formidable.

Just then, his vision blurred briefly—a common symptom in today’s digital world due to eye strain or fatigue. Closing his eyes, Bruno massaged the area around the bridge of his nose.

It’s probably from straining my eyes to read by the faint candlelight all night, thought Bruno.

When he saw the morning light, his body finally acknowledged that he had been up all night. The human body still held many mysteries and secrets. Even in Rearth’s age of advanced science, researchers still hadn’t fully unraveled its workings.

Among these mysteries was the body’s ability to function beyond its limits without the individual consciously realizing their exhaustion. It resembled the natural phenomenon known as “hysterical strength.” Stories circulated about elderly people carrying heavy household items they normally couldn’t lift when escaping a burning house.

In such extreme circumstances, a person’s survival instincts could override physical limitations.

Such extreme cases were rare, but even without reaching that level, people could sometimes exceed their usual limits, producing extraordinary results through intense focus. This could happen in artistic creation, professional work, athletic competition, and even during paperwork like Bruno’s.

This is commonly known as entering the “zone.”

The heightened focus and reduced sense of fatigue from being in the “zone” was generally considered a good thing. In that state, people often achieved results beyond expectations. However, everything had its pros and cons. The law of nature stated that the greater the reward, the steeper the price. When someone snapped out of the zone, the body often reacted by showing the strain it had been under.

Perhaps that was why Bruno’s vision blurred momentarily. Yet, despite working to his limits, his tasks showed no signs of ending. Two towering piles of paperwork still sat on his desk.

“Well, I suppose I should take a break,” Bruno muttered.

Rising from his chair, he stretched his arms overhead, wincing slightly as a twinge of pain ran through his right arm. It was a lingering ache from the injury he had sustained when he blocked an attack from Ryoma Mikoshiba during the recent battle.

The wound was shallow, though. Bruno rubbed the area as if to check. A rare elixir used in his treatment had already healed the wound, leaving only a faint red line. In a few more days, even that will disappear.

In other words, he had fully recovered. That elixir, reserved for only the most critical injuries, had worked wonders.

Perhaps they went a bit overboard...

Honestly, Bruno thought it was wasteful to use such a precious remedy for a relatively minor wound. The injury hadn’t been superficial enough that a quick patch-up would not suffice, but in the past, Bruno had sustained life-threatening injuries that only received rough stitching on the battlefield. Compared to those experiences, this injury was trivial.

With that elixir, a severely wounded soldier could have been saved.

Under normal circumstances, Bruno wouldn’t dwell on it. But just seven days ago, this place had been a battlefield soaked in blood and resounding with the cries of the wounded. Countless soldiers must have been clamoring for that precious remedy. Knowing their pain and sorrow, it was only natural that Bruno felt some remorse.

To Bruno, his soldiers were not only essential pieces for achieving victory; they were comrades who shared life and death with him. Such a perspective was unusual on Earth, which was typically marked by strict hierarchies. In many nations, like the Kingdom of Brittantia, most generals came from noble or royal backgrounds. Raised to rule, they normally didn’t concern themselves with the lives of common soldiers, nor could they afford to. Most such elites would readily demand precious elixirs for even minor wounds.

But that’s not how one earns the loyalty of soldiers.

Whether it was right or wrong, Bruno didn’t know. But at the very least, this was who he was—the fierce general known as the Man-Eating Bear. Still, it was merely his personal viewpoint. Bruno’s insistence on receiving the same treatment as his soldiers likely appeared as sheer obstinacy to those around him.

No matter how much Bruno protested that he didn’t need special treatment, that didn’t settle the issue. He might dislike being set apart, but someone else would have to bear the responsibility if something happened to him. There was a reason behind the special treatment.

Now that Raul is dead, I can understand why they insist.

With Raul Giordano—the allied army’s deputy commander—now dead, Bruno was the only one left capable of leading the troops. If something happened to him, the army would be without a commander.

In fact, the mountain of paperwork piled in front of Bruno all stemmed from Raul’s death. Tasks that his deputy should have handled had now fallen to Bruno, nearly doubling his workload. Given the circumstances, Bruno Accordo was irreplaceable to this army. And so he conceded that the doctors’ decision to provide him with the best possible treatment was justified despite seeming excessive.

A lingering issue remained: the occasional pain in his arm.

Whenever I move my arm, a sharp pain sometimes flares up. And it feels like the wound isn’t healing as well as it should.

On the surface, his injury seemed nearly healed. Despite this, Bruno couldn’t shake an odd discomfort in his right arm. He could think of only one reason for it.

That man... He called it Kikoku. It must be a thaumaturgical sword imbued with some kind of thaumaturgy.

During their last encounter, Ryoma Mikoshiba’s blade had demonstrated extraordinary sharpness, slicing right through Bruno’s trusty war hammer, a heavy weapon made of solid steel. The blade cut through the haft and managed to slash Bruno’s right arm, which was protected by a gauntlet. Whether Ryoma’s skill or the sword’s supernatural sharpness did this, the strike was deeply unsettling.

The doctors had ruled out poison as the source of his pain, but that only intensified Bruno’s underlying fear.

It’s a shame I lost my beloved war hammer, but at least my arm wasn’t severed, thought Bruno, seeing the shattered remnants of his war hammer in his memory. It was an unusually sentimental feeling, but it was understandable. That war hammer had accompanied him on countless battlefields since his first campaign, serving as more than just a weapon; it was a part of him. The term “partner” didn’t even do it justice; it was closer to a “half of himself.”

If someone were to ask whether he valued it more than his wife back in the Kingdom of Brittantia, he might hesitate to respond. Of course, Bruno wasn’t foolish enough to reveal this to his wife; he knew well enough to murmur “Of course you’re more important, darling,” when the occasion called for it. But if pressed for his true feelings, even he would have difficulty giving a clear answer.

Losing such a cherished part of himself was undeniably a devastating blow. However, Bruno couldn’t afford to linger on such sentiment. Despite the lingering pain, the proper treatment of the wound had officially healed him. As the commander of the allied forces, he had a duty to fulfill his responsibilities.

I don’t have much time before I meet with that man... The thought drove Bruno onward, a sense of urgency pressing him forward.

After all, the fate of the Kingdom of Brittantia and the Kingdom of Tarja rested heavily on Bruno’s shoulders. With such a burden, a bit of pain was nothing. Right now, only one thing mattered to Bruno: fulfilling his duty to the utmost. The leaders who supported him also shared this feeling. That said, only the upper ranks, including Bruno, were responsible for ensuring the mission’s success. Most of the soldiers in the coalition army were currently resting in their assigned tents.

Now that Archduke Mikoshiba’s army has retreated from Lubua Plains, resting is the most important task for the soldiers. If it helps them regain even a bit of morale...

Looking around the coalition’s main encampment in the middle of Lubua Plains, a relaxed atmosphere started settling in. It had been seven days since Archduke Mikoshiba’s army retreated, and Bruno had granted the soldiers permission to drink under the guise of celebrating victory. In some ways, it couldn’t be helped. Soldiers who had survived such a grueling battlefield would crave either alcohol or women. The minds of the troops must have reached their limits after the fierce battle with Archduke Mikoshiba’s forces.

The coalition’s trump card—the force from beyond the borders—was utterly crushed as if cursed by the wrath of the gods, without ever crossing swords with the enemy. And then Raul Giordano’s defeat in the duel with the unknown knight, Chris Morgan, also shocked our troops immensely.

In fact, Bruno wouldn’t have been surprised if the coalition soldiers had thrown down their weapons and fled. Honestly, he was deeply grateful they held their ground on the battlefield.

I was lucky to survive Mikoshiba’s assault on the main camp. The courage of the soldiers who protected me was crucial...

Whether it was by chance or fate, Bruno didn’t know. Even after the devastating news of the defeat of the outland warriors and Raul’s death, the soldiers did not give up their will to fight. And to honor such loyalty and devotion, Bruno would gladly keep the barrels flowing. He would even provide them with women if possible, despite it being against military regulations.

Such indulgences are necessary to maintain the soldiers’ morale.

Moreover, Bruno did not grant permission recklessly.

Archduke Mikoshiba’s forces had been confirmed to have abandoned the fortress city of Jermuk and withdrawn from Lubua Plains. Certainty of the enemy’s absence allowed the supreme commander to slightly bend military regulation. That said, Bruno understood that this was not an ideal decision. Even if it was highly unlikely, it was still possible Archduke Mikoshiba’s forces might launch a surprise attack.

That man’s strategies always catch us off guard.

Because of Ryoma, the coalition’s war elephants were decimated without ever showing their true potential. Considering that, it wouldn’t be surprising if he staged a withdrawal only to return for a surprise attack. Of course, no one understood better than Bruno how unlikely that was.

If Mikoshiba withdrew and moved toward Rhoadseria, it’s likely because he’s wary of the man advancing south from the north.

Otherwise, Ryoma Mikoshiba wouldn’t have needed to withdraw his forces after successfully cornering Bruno. Mikoshiba wouldn’t make that choice unless he was sure that taking down Bruno wouldn’t end the war.

Thus, the chances of Archduke Mikoshiba’s forces returning to Lubua Plains are extremely low.

There was no reason to launch a surprise attack on the coalition, but there was no absolute certainty that it wouldn’t happen.

The very reasons I find it unlikely might be why he would choose that strategy, thought Bruno, unable to shake that lingering fear of having Ryoma Mikoshiba as an enemy. Since our scouts are keeping watch all around, a surprise attack is unlikely.

No matter how much he thought, he could find no clear answer. It all came down to balancing the risks and deciding how much he could bear to lift the morale of the coalition soldiers at their lowest. For now, Bruno had chosen to allow the risk of drinking, weighing it against the lower risk of a surprise attack.

“Offering them drinks isn’t likely to make much difference,” Bruno said aloud.

The morale of soldiers, once dropped, would not recover easily. Though alcohol may lift their spirits now, it was uncertain how well they’d actually fight when the battle came. It was like trying to douse a fire with a single drop of water, an image which caused Bruno to laugh self-mockingly.

“Even so, it’s better than doing nothing.”

Mikoshiba’s retreat was an unexpected blessing to the soldiers of the allied forces. Given the grim state of the battlefield, it was hard to truly believe they’d won. However, in whatever form it took, the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy’s forces had indeed abandoned their initial goal of defending the fortress city of Jermuk, and instead fallen back toward the Kingdom of Rhoadseria to the west. Even if this was a tactical withdrawal, the fact remained that the enemy retreated.

“And that fact is not insignificant.”

With that thought, the allied forces could almost claim victory. It might have been a case of “those who assert it, win,” but such was the nature of warfare. In reality, wars that ended with a clear victory or defeat were rare. The soldiers of the allied forces understood “victory” was an illusion.

“Most of them might lack formal education, but they’re not fools.”

While many of the soldiers came from the commoner class and likely lacked scholarly knowledge, they possessed survival instincts. They excelled at reading the atmosphere and grasping situations intuitively. Underestimating their perceptiveness would be foolish. They surely recognized that they were simply choosing to believe Bruno’s words.

“But for the soldiers, that’s enough...”

Like the expression “a convenient lie,” it was crucial to maintain their fighting spirit. If the truth would drain their will to fight, it would be more meaningful to show them a false dream to inspire them. Such a lie that could keep them motivated was a strategic deception.

“This situation is dangerous enough as it is.”

All this was for the sake of what lay ahead. Bruno still had one critical task to complete before returning to his homeland—a duty that would determine the fate of the Kingdom of Brittantia and the Kingdom of Tarja. As the allied forces’ Supreme Commander, Bruno wanted his soldiers’ morale as high as possible. Soldiers lacking morale and fighting spirit would be useless in a crisis.

“Of course, the preliminary discussions are complete. All that remains is to sign the formal agreement, but I can’t afford to be complacent. After all, Alexis Duran is the opponent.”

In the southern kingdoms, the name Alexis Duran carried special weight. A formidable general of the rival Myest Kingdom, he was both feared and respected. To Bruno, Duran was like a legend, a figure who’d made his name on the battlefield since Bruno was but a squire.

“For someone like me to measure up to him...”

Though Bruno was a knight of great repute—the commander of the Brittantian Royal Griffin Knights and the leader of the allied forces—his fame paled in comparison to General Duran’s. They were not in the same league, yet Bruno had no choice but to face him.

“This agreement was arranged by General Duran and our country’s prime minister, and was endorsed under the king’s name.”

Of course, Bruno harbored some doubts.

“The Kingdom of Myest had previously formed an alliance of four nations led by Helnesgoula. Why bring this offer to us and Tarja instead?”

Until that question was answered, Bruno couldn’t fully support the alliance. Yet, with the king’s orders, Bruno had no choice but to comply. As a high-ranking military officer in the Kingdom of Brittantia, opposing the king’s decision required extreme resolve. This was why Bruno took every precaution he could, even if he was marching into a losing battle.

“General Accordo, the flag of the Kingdom of Myest has been sighted to the north!”

At these words, Bruno’s expression tightened. This was the arrival of his awaited guest, marking the start of a diplomatic battle.

“Understood. Prepare the welcome!”

With that, Bruno ordered his attendant to fetch a change of clothes. As the commander of the allied forces and the head of Brittantia’s Griffin Knights, Bruno wouldn’t normally be expected to personally welcome Alexis Duran. But General Duran was the mastermind behind this entire campaign. Moreover, the Kingdom of Myest would soon join Brittantia and Tarja in a new alliance, where it would assume leadership. Thus, Bruno would greet this representative of Myest.

If only Raul were here...

Raul Giordano, a general of Tarja, was both a potential rival and an ally from this campaign. Though they hadn’t known each other long, Bruno felt he could call the man a comrade. With someone like Raul beside him, Bruno would feel assured as he prepared for the daunting negotiations.

But that’s a meaningless wish now, isn’t it?

A skilled comrade meant nothing if they were no longer alive. With this thought, Bruno quickly changed his clothes and checked his appearance. He then stepped out of his tent, heading to a new battlefield. 

The sky had already darkened, enveloping the area in the veil of night. From the forest came the hoot of an owl. Having entered the fortress city of Jermuk, Alexis Duran sipped from a glass, savoring the chilled amber liquid within.

“Well, it’s finally over...”

With a soft sigh, General Duran reflected on his earlier meeting with Bruno Accordo. Key negotiations had been settled, and the Kingdom of Myest had formally allied with Brittantia and Tarja—a result that met his standards. In that sense, the bottle before him was indeed a drink of victory. Yet, not everything had gone as planned. Much of it hadn’t.

“In that case, perhaps it’s more of a bitter drink than a triumphant one.”

A smirk crept across General Duran’s face. Once more, he raised his glass and swallowed the drink that burned down his throat. General Duran’s original plan was to intercept Mikoshiba’s forces, cutting off their escape and forcing a confrontation. But in the end, Mikoshiba’s army had withdrawn before the Kingdom of Myest’s forces could reach Lubua Plains. And they had retreated with minimal losses.

“Who would’ve expected them to repel those barbarian war elephants with such a method?”

It wouldn’t have been so unexpected if it had been a long-distance thaumaturgy attack. At least Duran wouldn’t have dwelled on it.

But even General Duran could not have imagined burying something akin to gunpowder and the detonation thereof.

Then again, Ryoma Mikoshiba is a modern person summoned from Earth. It’s not surprising that he could conceive of something like a land mine... Is it? thought General Duran.

Of course, not many modern individuals summoned from Rearth would come up with the idea of using land mines to blow up enemy troops. Even if one knew of the existence of a weapon like a land mine, the vast majority would never consider using such a tool in warfare. Knowing of a tool’s existence alone was meaningless; the ability to imagine how that tool could be used was crucial. It was similar to asking whether people fully used all the features on their smartphones. One wouldn’t use a convenient function if they couldn’t envision how to do so.

But what’s even more terrifying is the fact that Ryoma Mikoshiba possesses the means to realize such ideas.

The spark of inspiration was indeed crucial, but it held no value on its own. What mattered was whether one could bring that inspiration to fruition. People may have imagined time machines in their minds, but creating one was an entirely different issue.

Despite science and technology being barely recognized in this world, Ryoma Mikoshiba created something akin to gunpowder and utilized it effectively on the battlefield.

The Organization could even perceive this development as threatening the balance of power. It suggested that the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy possessed a level of technological capability comparable to that of the Organization. For that reason alone, General Duran deemed Ryoma Mikoshiba a person worth keeping a wary eye on.

But that wasn’t the only issue.

To think he penetrated the main camp, landed a blow on Bruno, and retreated without taking his head... When General Duran heard this report, he couldn’t help but grimace. Of course, it could simply have been a matter of timing, forcing him to prioritize retreat. But if Ryoma Mikoshiba’s actions were calculated, he is undeniably a formidable strategist.

For Bruno Accordo, Raul’s death would have been a major disaster. Naturally, the responsibility for Raul’s defeat and death in his duel with Chris Morgan was with him. After all, Raul was a fierce general feared as the Fiery Tempest. His skills and abilities determined his survival on the battlefield, making his death no one else’s fault. This was the undeniable truth and responsibility that came with the extreme conditions of war. Every warrior understood and accepted this as a matter of course. All of the soldiers in this battle knew this, including General Duran. From a national perspective, it would be difficult to acknowledge Raul Giordano’s death as anything but his own responsibility.

The real issue is that while Bruno is a general of the Kingdom of Brittantia, Raul was a general of the Kingdom of Tarja.

Indeed, the Kingdom of Brittantia and the Kingdom of Tarja were set to form an alliance under the new King Owen. This implied cooperations between the two nations, but that didn’t mean their historical grievances could be completely erased.

Since the two countries have a lengthy history of conflict, the accumulated hatred and hostility cannot be resolved overnight.

On the surface, they would shake hands and feign friendship. But both nations had joined the three-nation alliance for strategic reasons, and behind the scenes, both nations would watch for opportunities to weaken the other’s strength.

The human heart is not so easily divided into neat compartments.

People forgot favors quickly, but grudges lingered stubbornly. Nations were no different.

Even putting aside the historical context, the Kingdom of Tarja would undoubtedly seek to hinder the Kingdom of Brittantia whenever possible.

One of their representative generals had fallen in battle, which would certainly weaken the military power of the Kingdom of Tarja. Faced with this reality, wouldn’t the rulers of the Kingdom of Tarja demand accountability from the Kingdom of Brittantia?

It wouldn’t be surprising if they went so far as to claim that Bruno deliberately orchestrated Raul’s death in battle.

Bruno’s defense would hardly carry much weight if that were to happen. If he were to admit responsibility for Raul’s death, they would publicly denounce him for it. Conversely, the public would accuse him of being irresponsible despite his role as the supreme commander should he deny responsibility. Essentially, the Kingdom of Tarja wasn’t interested in uncovering the truth. Their real aim was to pin the blame for Raul’s death on Bruno and the Kingdom of Brittantia to gain leverage in future negotiations.

What’s more, from the outset, the very fact that Raul Giordano was killed makes it difficult for Bruno to justify himself.

The coalition army Bruno led boasted a total force exceeding one hundred thousand. If Archduke Mikoshiba’s forces, numbering only forty thousand, killed their deputy commander, Bruno would find it difficult to counter the accusation that he intentionally conspired against Raul. If Bruno tried to defend himself unreasonably, it would only cast doubt on his overall competence as a commander.

The real question is how Brittantia will respond to such a maneuver from Tarja. They will likely accept Tarja’s demands and abandon Bruno, or they will provide compensation to Tarja to protect Bruno.

Their chosen path would depend on the intentions of the king of Brittantia and his advisors. Regardless of the choice, the outcome remained the same.

If they choose the former, they will lose a general who represents their nation; if they choose the latter, they will weaken their national power.

As a result, the mutual animosity and hatred between the Kingdom of Brittantia and the Kingdom of Tarja would deepen. This was a direct consequence of the fact that Ryoma Mikoshiba did not kill Bruno.

Had Bruno been defeated by Ryoma Mikoshiba, both countries might have united against the Mikoshiba Grand Duchy, possibly even cooperating.

One could only describe it as a masterstroke of cunning strategy. Even understanding this, General Duran showed a faint smile.

“Well, it doesn’t matter... I’ve fulfilled the role assigned to me. The rest is up to that person’s judgment,” he muttered softly, reaching for his glass and drinking it in one gulp.

Two days had passed since Alexis Duran and Bruno Accordo met on Lubua Plains. That day, Radine Rhoadserians, queen of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria, began her morning as usual. However, a visitor arrived around noon and completely upended that ordinary morning. Helena Steiner handed Radine a letter while she was reviewing the usual reports from her bureaucrats in her study. When she finished reading the letter, Radine felt the world had turned dark, and she struggled to breathe. The contents of the letter were so shocking that she could hardly process them.

Clutching her chest, Radine took a deep breath to steady herself, followed by several more deep breaths. If she hadn’t done so, her breathing might have genuinely stopped. Helena watched her with a look of concern.

It’s no surprise... For Her Majesty, the thought of that person withdrawing their army would have been unimaginable, right?

Despite Radine being a young queen who had been swept onto the throne of the Kingdom of Rhoadseria by a twist of fate, she demonstrated remarkable resilience. After calming her breathing, Radine turned her gaze back to the letter she had just read to review its contents a second time. She likely did so to ensure that she had not misread or misunderstood anything. After confirming that she was correct, she looked at the ceiling and let out a deep sigh. She was clearly trying her best to maintain her composure. Unfortunately, her efforts seemed to yield little success. Her face remained stiff and tense, and her slender shoulders quivered slightly. Was it a primal fear that caused this reaction?

“So, you are saying that Archduke Mikoshiba has withdrawn from the Myest Kingdom? That he was defeated in battle?” Radine slowly asked Helena, who stood before her.

The tremor in her voice was unmistakable; it was not a figment of Helena’s imagination. In response to Radine’s question, Helena shook her head slowly.

“No... According to the report, their forces suffered hardly any losses. While they clearly withdrew, I don’t believe it can be said that they were defeated in battle.”

This wasn’t a lie meant to comfort Radine. Even if the army had successfully carried out the withdrawal and survived, the mere word retreat could give the impression of defeat. But from a strategic standpoint, it was not uncommon to decide on a retreat to minimize losses.

Especially in a situation like this, where it was a retreat in good order...

According to the letter, Mikoshiba’s army had suffered virtually no casualties. Moreover, they had achieved the notable feat of eliminating Raul Giordano, the enemy’s deputy commander. Despite their eventual withdrawal to the Kingdom of Rhoadseria, this alone did not mean that Mikoshiba’s forces had been defeated.

At the very least, withdrawing while still in a state capable of continuing the war cannot be called a defeat, the seasoned general thought. Regardless of that reality, most people inevitably equate the word retreat with defeat.

Ryoma Mikoshiba was the savior of the nation, undefeated in every battle. No one in the royal castle had imagined that he, who carried such a reputation, would retreat from the Kingdom of Myest. This included Helena, Radine, and even Prime Minister McMaster. Everyone had been sure of Ryoma’s victory until the Igasaki messengers delivered the letter to Helena. This was true even for the nobles who despised Ryoma. Though they openly wished for his defeat, none genuinely believed it would happen. Such was the dramatic impact of the victories Ryoma had accumulated, achievements so significant that even his detractors begrudgingly acknowledged them.

As a veteran of countless battles, Helena deeply understood that the idea of being undefeated was an illusion.

No matter how much someone is praised as a war god or a military genius, they’re still only human...

Arios Belares, one of Helena’s contemporaries who was once hailed as a Guardian Deity, met a heroic death during the O’ltormea Empire’s invasion of Xarooda a few years prior. Even Helena, known as the Ivory Goddess of War, bore the reputation of being undefeated. Yet, among her over one hundred battles, there were engagements that were...questionable. Of course, Helena had never pretended a loss was a victory. Still, there were battles with ambiguous outcomes that even she could not confidently call victories. Of course, Helena had no intention of openly discussing such inconvenient truths.

It would have been difficult to deny the influence of the word undefeated, given the weight it carried. While Helena could not claim to have always won, it was true that she had never been defeated. At the very least, there had never been a time when she had lost most of her forces and barely escaped the battlefield with her life.

After all, it’s rare for battles to have such a clear outcome in the first place.

Defeating the enemy commander and securing a decisive victory was not something that happened often. Most battles ended in stalemates, with armies withdrawing due to supply issues rather than direct combat results. After Radine heard Helena’s explanation, she nodded slightly. The trembling that had consumed her earlier had stopped, indicating that she had accepted Helena’s reasoning.

“So, Archduke Mikoshiba chose to retreat of his own accord... I see. Considering the minimal losses, it’s difficult to call it a defeat. Still, with King Phillip’s death and the uncertainty of whether King Owen will maintain the four-nation alliance...” murmured Radine.

Helena gave her a gentle smile—the kind a mother might show while watching her child grow.

I thought she’d be more shaken, but she’s calmer than I expected. And her analysis of the situation is quite accurate. I don’t think she’s had any formal military education, though.

Radine was an illegitimate child of the late King Pharst II and was born to a commoner. Until Furio Gelhart used her as a counterbalance to Lupis during Rhoadseria’s civil war, she had lived as a commoner and received no training as royalty. Unlike Lupis, she had no knowledge of military matters.

But this woman understands her own limitations.

That self-awareness made Radine willing to listen to others and caused her to try to grasp the content of their advice. It was a quality befitting a ruler of a nation. Unaware of Helena’s inner reflections, Radine hesitated before speaking.

“So... What should I do? Should I send reinforcements to Archduke Mikoshiba? That seems like the right course of action.”

Given the possibility that at least the southern half of the Kingdom of Myest might have defected, swift measures were necessary. It was a natural question, but Helena shook her head in response.

“No, I believe that would be premature. At the very least, it would be better to hear Ryoma’s thoughts first.”

Radine tilted her head slightly at Helena’s reply, then voiced her tentative opinion. “I see... So, you believe he does not intend to launch another expedition into the Kingdom of Myest.”

“Yes. At this stage, the situation in the Kingdom of Myest is too uncertain. Launching another expedition now would further delay the original goal of aiding the Kingdom of Xarooda. With King Julianus bedridden, that would be a risky gamble. Of course, we will likely have to dispatch troops to Myest eventually. But for now, I believe he will focus on getting the Kingdom of Helnesgoula to mobilize troops until the Myest’s situation becomes clearer.”

Helena wasn’t entirely sure, but she understood that the stance of the Kingdom of Helnesgoula would be a critical factor in determining the outcome of the war in Myest.

Once Radine heard Helena’s explanation, she nodded deeply and said, “I understand... Then I will draft a letter recognizing Archduke Mikoshiba as my plenipotentiary. It will make it easier for him to act as he sees fit.”

Helena’s eyes widened slightly at Radine’s unexpected words, a rare reaction for her.

Is this a spur-of-the-moment decision? Or did she say it with conviction?

For Ryoma Mikoshiba, the unwavering support of Queen Radine carried immense significance and value as he decided to withdraw from Lubua Plains. Radine’s affirmation of Ryoma’s judgment as correct and her expression of continued trust in him were undeniable proof of her faith. This would undoubtedly act as a powerful form of support for him. In such an unpredictable situation, nothing would hinder him more than having his options constrained by interference from third parties.

This will also silence the nobles who would otherwise clamor to frame his retreat as a defeat.

The support of the queen carried a lot of weight. From that perspective, Radine’s decision was nothing short of remarkable.

However, from the viewpoint of maintaining her position on the throne, it’s nothing but a misstep.

Ordinarily, one would wait for a clearer understanding of the situation before making such a move. At the very least, Lupis Rhoadserians would never have made this decision.

No... If Lupis were queen, she would likely have considered dismissing him. She certainly wouldn’t have taken steps to defend him.

That approach would have been less risky and, above all, far easier.

“Are you sure about this? If word of this leaks to the nobles, it could provoke considerable backlash,” Helena said, directing a piercing gaze at Radine as if peering into her soul.

Her eyes seemed to ask whether Radine was truly prepared to stake her fate on Ryoma Mikoshiba. But in response to Helena’s probing question, Radine smiled serenely.

“For someone like me, who doesn’t know how to fight on the battlefield, this is all I can do.”

When Helena heard this, she gave a small nod. It was the utmost sincerity and resolve that a powerless queen could muster in the current circumstances. Radine had seemingly resolved to entrust the fate of Rhoadseria and her life to Ryoma Mikoshiba, proving she possessed the qualities befitting a ruler of a nation.

How ironic... This girl possesses something Lupis, who was trained as royalty, never had. “I understand. I’ll speak with Prime Minister McMaster myself,” Helena said.

“Yes, please do,” Radine replied, nodding slightly.

In response, Helena bowed deeply to Radine as a gesture of profound respect toward the true sovereign of this nation.