Chieftain Kakula

The cleanup after the battle proceeded more swiftly than expected.

Friendly casualties amounted to nothing more than a few seriously wounded, aside from two yellow-rank adventurers who died because they failed to cope properly amid the unexpected encounter. Compared to the enemy they had faced, those were surprisingly light losses. If one looked purely at the situation, there certainly were enough hands to tidy the surroundings and haul away the corpses of orcs and demonic beasts, but the greater reason their movements could be so quick lay elsewhere.

Bisquente didn't miss the common thread: every single one of those moving especially briskly was an adventurer who had been hired in advance to protect the village.

Even without anyone ordering them, they took the initiative in everything, shouldering the dirty work as well. What's more, whenever a massive needle-like projectile was found among the orc corpses, they would carry it over with exceedingly courteous and careful demeanor and hand it to the elf who was tending to the unconscious Eldmia.

The sight of magical tools he hadn't managed to retrieve due to fainting the moment the battle ended returning to their original owner in the blink of an eye was so strangely amusing that Bisquente let out a reflexive chuckle and shook his head. He had thought that, even if no one understood the principle behind it, after displaying such overwhelming power there would certainly be someone who harbored ill intentions. Apparently, he had been mistaken.

That was a good thing for him. With Heiri absent pursuing the orcs, Bisquente himself was the commander here, and he had no desire to badger people who had survived the divide between life and death. Whatever their intentions, the fact that they moved of their own accord put his mind at ease.

Judging there was no need to push Eldmia ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the front as the orcs fled in a panicked scramble, Heiri took the lead without a moment's hesitation and pursued them. It was a decision she reached after concluding that this was now a race against time, since the orcs would inevitably learn of the wyvern knights' existence if they made it back alive. At the same time, she didn't forget to dispatch a messenger to the capital, issuing separate orders to the wyvern pilot who had introduced himself as Gies.

It was an exceedingly wise judgment. The orcs were unmistakably an army, and they had charged in mounted on demonic beasts not seen in the region. The hypothesis that a gate had been used was now fact, and the threat had grown. The Royal Family's policy needed to be settled quickly.

Evening drew near just from tidying the surroundings and dragging the shattered trees together to form a palisade while the fighting continued. Thanks to Eldmia's pet dog of unknown identity stirring up a mess and the orc cavalry running rampant, timber was in abundant supply. Anything deemed too large was split without hesitation by Yekaterina stepping in personally and swinging her hammer a few times.

Since movement tomorrow was out of the question regardless, the palisades they erected with the intent to reliably handle any potential ambush looked quite sturdy thanks to such efforts.

Heiri returned alone around the time the camp reinforcement was finished and the evening meal was beginning.

Having flown for a long duration at high altitude without so much as a campfire lit so as to maintain stealth concealment, her armor was coated in a thick layer of frost. One might think she'd be desperate to toss aside all dignity and dash straight for the fire, yet the sight of her walking with such disciplined poise, still maintaining her decorum, left Bisquente with no choice but admiration.

Though her face was drained deathly pale from the cold after she removed her helmet, she inquired first about Eldmia with a composed bearing.

"What is Sir Ega's condition?"

"He remains unconscious. They say he doesn't show any particular signs of pain, but he is suffering from a high fever."

"He hasn't woken even once?"

"No."

Heiri didn't let out a groan. She simply closed her eyes quietly, expressing her regret.

Although he had committed multiple instances of rudeness toward Princess Mesina, it was lamentable that the only way to describe the figure he had shown this time was the clichéd expression 'heroic.' And while his strength, which ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠surpassed understanding, also inspired fear, as a warrior and a knight she could not help but respect him.

That the ground forces had remained this intact and the village had been spared from damage was more than eighty percent thanks to Eldmia's aid. In a situation where it was even harder to treat him coldly out of personal feelings, Heiri shifted her gaze to search for Eldmia.

Fortunately, finding him was not difficult. Because the massive war hammer planted upside down and its owner stood guard beside him alongside the elf, like a landmark.

"The adventurer called Yekaterina and the elf who is Sir Ega's acquaintance are to be excluded from all duties. At each shift change during the handover of responsibilities, the monitoring of Sir Ega's condition is to be assigned, and if there is any abnormality, wake me at any time."

"...Would it not be better for me to receive the reports instead?"

Neither today's battle nor the pursuit that followed had been easy. The only reason they had been able to keep moving without even a moment to recover their stamina was because they were wyvern knights. When he suggested leaving that much to a subordinate, Heiri shook her head calmly and dismissed Bisquente's opinion.

"I am the commander of this place at this moment. It is only right that I manage any problems that arise within it. Should circumstances require his urgent return to the capital, your consideration is appreciated but I will only accept the sentiment."

With that, the instructions regarding Eldmia came ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to an end.

In the temporary command post formed by erecting a tent, using a log roughly shaped by an axe-wielding adventurer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as a table, Heiri began to share the intelligence gained from her reconnaissance.

"Frankly, it was of a dreadful scale. No matter how I looked at it, the scope was on a completely different level from what had been reported. I don't know what tricks they played with the gate in the meantime, but so many orcs had gathered it seemed as if they had brought every last orc from the Great Grasslands."

Just the number she had roughly estimated was around three thousand. The sudden appearance of orcs exceeding a kingdom's regiment in scale was a clear crisis.

"Those bastards weren't only targeting the village. They merely dispatched troops to places they knew. They were coiled up, devouring every monster and animal in the vicinity, and signs were spotted that they had dispatched forces in other directions as well."

"Does that mean..."

"Correct. The East has become endangered. That is why I sent the wyvern knights as messengers to nearby cities."

Having calmly revealed the reason for returning alone, Heiri reflected on the weight of her own words and let out a sigh.

The East in danger—she wished it were a slip of the tongue, but it was a clear fact.

"...Good heavens."

Hearing those words, Bisquente couldn't even manage his expression properly. He had thought they had handled everything smoothly, but it was obvious that somewhere along the line, things had gone badly awry.

He was groaning inwardly, thinking that even if the matter was resolved well, Raviel might be held accountable for failing to foresee the emergence of such numbers of orcs, when Heiri spoke as if she had read his thoughts.

"It is classified, so I cannot give you the details, but because of this, the Royal Family will not hold Raviel or the surrounding cities and lords responsible. Those who made moves clearly connected to the incident are a separate matter, however."

Instead of questioning the classified information, Bisquente felt pure relief. Whatever else might be said, Raviel had already finished cleaning house internally and was in a 'pristine' state, so even if the sky were to split in two, there was no way anyone directly linked to this incident would emerge from there.

"Then shouldn't we relay additional information to the Royal Family as well?"

"That doesn't need to be worried about. I've already reported to Her Highness the Princess, assuming the worst. Let us trust in the Princess's judgment and wait."

It was an answer brimming with tremendous trust and pride toward the one she served, but since Bisquente didn't know much about Princess Mesina, he simply resolved to believe in the fact that Heiri, a wyvern knight worthy of respect, trusted her this much.

And the very next morning, as soon as dawn broke, he came to realize that Heiri's faith was a faith with exceedingly solid grounds.

"There are... far too many astonishing things."

The army appeared, along with standard-bearers hoisting various banners. It was not difficult to guess that those gathered in groups of dozens were the personal soldiers of nobles residing in the capital.

Among them were also academy cadets who had appeared bearing the academy's emblem as their banner. Led by those presumed to be professors acting as commanders, they disembarked from carriages that appeared to have been requisitioned in haste, looking around with flushed faces.

But what stood out most of all was the woman who stood directly holding a lance bearing her family's banner, accompanied only by an old warrior who could rightly be called a giant and a single female knight.

Merely joining the battle with just three people was a distinct enough spectacle, but the reason they attracted the gazes of the other nobles was something else.

"Margrave of Levien...?"

The banner emblazoned with the laurel wreath and round shield that symbolized House Levien was as red as the hair of the standard-bearer, who was also the house's mistress. Wearing light armor tinged with crimson and holding a round shield that seemed to perfectly replicate the emblem on the flag, the woman appeared to gleam red from head to toe. Upon arrival, her sharp eyes swept the surroundings, and the moment she spotted Bisquente, she slowly spurred her horse toward him.

The last time he had heard word, she was a young and delicate girl, but whatever had happened in the meantime, her current appearance was deeply imposing.

Bisquente fulfilled his duty and knelt in greeting, conveying both his mourning and respect for the fallen shield of the kingdom.

"I behold the Shield of the Kingdom and Guardian of Margraviate Levien, Margrave of Levien. I am called Bisquente da Raviel."

As she did not require him to lower his head, Bisquente could meet her eyes without difficulty. The fine freckles dotting the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and her sharp yet large eyes, evoked a peculiar sense of familiarity despite her different bearing, but what drew his attention more was the strange grief contained within those eyes.

Before Bisquente even had the chance to question that emotion, Margrave of Levien slightly inclined her head in acknowledgment of his greeting and posed a question.

"Where is Eldmia Ega?"