Departure
Departure
At Eldmia's declaration, Raynel looked at Alt with an expression of utter catastrophe, but...
Alt squeezed his eyes shut, forced to concede that his argument 'was' reasonable.
Looking purely at the words 'alone', there was nothing wrong. In reality, when nobles dragged their own troops to war, infighting always broke out over who held overall command and how to establish hierarchy. Alt knew this intimately, having had his guts wrenched by such noble pride and power struggles more than once or twice.
But it was absolutely not laziness that made Alt neglect these formalities.
The world has this thing called common sense, and there are standard responses for self-preservation, aren't there? In a situation like this, common sense dictated that the one with no troops and low status should voluntarily lower his posture.
No matter that he'd received a Guardian Medal, who in their right mind could have predicted that a single wandering knight would brazenly spout sophistry exploiting those legal loopholes and assert his rights?
Calling him incompetent for failing to prepare for a situation that bordered on delusion to even keep in mind was far too cruel a treatment for him.
"Eldmia. That's enough."
When Margrave of Levien, who had been watching this disaster unfold with an impassive gaze, slowly opened her mouth, all eyes naturally turned toward her.
It was the first time since the meeting began, and Alt, noticing this, looked at her with a no-way kind of feeling.
"It's not that I don't trust Eldmia, but this is war. I want to respect Alt Brigade Commander's expertise and seek his opinion just as much as I do yours. Not to mention his subordinate commanders. Although it is true he committed a discourtesy, this is excessive."
And he had to feel as if he'd been struck in the back of the head.
It was theater. As if she had tolerated and overlooked Raynel's first rudeness just the same.
Watching her movements, everything from her hand gestures to the blinking of her eyes seeming calculated, Alt felt anew that the person before him was a noble.
"Alt Brigade Commander? I believe the gains would be substantial if we succeed."
"...Very well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
There was no way she'd acted like that without any prior agreement. Had she foreseen this situation unfolding and prepared for it?
His head began to grow complicated.
At the same time, the thought occurred that Margrave of Levien might not be a mere puppet. Even if that wasn't the case, he couldn't deny that this person—whom he had regarded as a scarecrow who would at most listen to the plan for form's sake and nod—had just driven a fist straight into his solar plexus.
Since the choice was his, he could just completely ignore it if he wanted... but then his relationship with Margrave of Levien would become rather unpleasant, wouldn't it. If it came to that, even if it failed, briefly indulging a gamble where only one man died and it was over was the cheaper option.
He hadn't expected a war of nerves to break out here, but it was a common enough occurrence. In fact, this was quite mild, all things considered. And if this operation succeeded, they could breach the outer fortress in a single stroke, making the very term siege warfare blush, so the gains would be enormous.
"However, please understand that we cannot take responsibility for any unfortunate incidents that may arise for Sir Ega as a result of this."
"That goes without saying."
Watching the wandering knight politely observe formalities as if he'd never thrown hands or cursed, the other regimental commanders found themselves thinking the same thought without realizing it.
The thought that Ranje, that mutiny specialist who carried the notoriety of a mad squirrel, had been nothing but false madness.
"Wow, fuck. What a goddamn hilarious fellow he turned out to be."
Ranje, who muttered quietly so no one else could hear, shared the same opinion as the regimental commanders for once.
◈
A day concluded with a first battle that consumed only arrows and Mana passed, and dawn broke.
"Unfazed as ever."
I rechecked myself just in case before the operation began, but there was no problem whatever. My Magic Organ was in optimal condition, I had no issues operating Magic Power, and I'd slept deeply so my head was clear.
"...You really are all right, right?"
But unlike me, fully prepared and satisfied, Ragnis couldn't hide her unease.
"I do have a conscience, so I can't tell you not to worry. But at least as far as the outer fortress goes, it's a fact that I'll be fine."
It was the conclusion I'd reached after examining the battlefield using Magic Sight throughout yesterday's continuous fighting.
Doable.
I didn't know about war, but I'd experienced one-against-many numerous times. And while the enemies' level was said to be higher than before, since I wasn't charging in and killing them all by myself anyway, that wasn't much of a problem.
All I had to do was keep them from opening the side gate.
But if I just blocked it plainly like that, it was obvious I'd later be propped up as a standard hero through those politics-loving gentlemen, so I needed to act a little like a mad dog.
At first I thought voices would only rise long after the discussion had progressed, but it was fortunate there was one hot-tempered fellow. Now my military assessment within the command staff would be poor at the very least, and such opinions from the kingdom's elite brigade would serve as a plausible excuse stack number one for the power players looking to check or exploit me.
The excuse being a mad dog who frequently bolts even when Levien holds the leash.
Those who'd play tricks to seat such a bastard in a key post would be few, and even so, those who'd try to use me by moving Ragnis as a shield would think at least three times more before deciding.
My nape might itch for a while, but it was better than being tossed about by power.
"Seriously, seriously—if you get badly hurt doing this, I'll kill you."
"What a truly headache-inducing threat, my Count."
If it were just the two of us, I'd laugh and at least stroke her hair. I decided to stroke Laika's head instead.
"Guard our Lady Count well, Laika."
[Okay!]
Knowing how tough this child was, I couldn't feel more reassured. I'd raised this one well, truly. After giving Laika a round of petting like that, a soldier with a familiar figure approached from ahead.
"Sir Ega. The operation begins shortly."
Ranje, one of the most certifiably insane figures I'd met in my life, spoke flatly with that massive iron club the soldiers called a squirrel's tail slung over her shoulder, and I answered with a light nod before following her toward the front line. In the process, I naturally passed by soldiers standing at attention in perfect ranks, and amid the various gazes pouring down, I lightly loosened my neck.
The rumors had already spread. More hostility than curiosity.
"May I speak honestly?"
We hadn't walked more than a few steps when Ranje opened her mouth, and what she wanted to say was so obvious that I inadvertently let out an empty laugh and asked back.
"That I seem like a madman?"
"No. You seem like a complete fucking lunatic."
Oh my, she was one to pour it on even thicker.
"I felt it yesterday too, but you truly act as if you have no regard for what comes after."
"We're two sides of the same coin. But well, I did find it refreshing. Succeed and you're a hero, fail and you're an idiot, isn't that right? If you drag soldiers into it they'll curse you for a colossal dumbass, but volunteering to run in alone, well..."
Even having seen me throw a fit at the command post, Ranje was unfazed. True, given her demeanor in yesterday's battle and how she, a mere battalion commander alone among regimental commanders, threw military discipline to the dogs at the command post, she was clearly an unusual figure in many ways.
"May I ask one question as well?"
"Go ahead."
"Are you wearing an Arrow-warding Blessing or something? Yesterday I saw you just walking around unfazed even when arrows poured down."
Was it that her short stature made even arrows veer away from her, or was it that not a single arrow touched her despite that—I'd found it curious and asked, and predictably, a headache-inducing answer came back.
"Why would I waste money going around wearing something like that? I just knock away the ones that look like they'll hit me with my weapon."
"You're quite the fucking lunatic yourself, aren't you."
"Honestly, until yesterday I thought the same, but not anymore. Around this level, it's normal."
The way she giggled as she said it was truly extraordinary. On top of that, most of the surrounding soldiers, having heard that their unit's regimental commander had been slapped, were sending looks full of hostility, yet she even barked at them to lower their eyes. Perhaps she'd come to personally escort me as battalion commander precisely with this situation in mind.
The battlefield we arrived at through idle chatter was relatively clean, with wounded but no dead.
Of course, arrows more numerous than the stones kicked underfoot and the traces of magic were rampant, but it could still be called clean enough. As we moved beside the heavy siege ram I'd seen yesterday and Ranje vacated the spot with a light nod, one of the siege ram squad members who had to follow right behind me the moment I crossed the wall spoke up, truly casually.
"You must have considerable combat experience? Most people standing here get tense without even realizing it."
I looked to see if he was someone I'd extorted money from, but he was a completely unfamiliar face. The gaze that looked at me as if merely curious was refreshing in many ways.
"Only those who've spent years on the battlefield could manage that. I'm ordinary."
"Huh, usually people like that are battle-hardened veterans. Anyway, I'm looking forward to it."
He gave a short laugh and returned to his position, and before long, a horn sounded long and resonant. At the same time, the army began its advance, very slowly.
The operation was simple. Approach to the distance where the siege ram squad could sprint at full power, just like yesterday, then I'd jump out first and stop the Demonfolk's side gate unit. The end. Naturally, the words were easy—if I couldn't hold them or the siege ram squad failed to destroy the gate, it was close to a chicken race where one side was definitely fucked.
As for me, I had confidence since it was my own plan, but the siege ram squad was in a situation where even reacting like the regimental commander who'd been slapped yesterday would be perfectly legal. They had to trust one plan the likes of which the world had never heard of and run again—I'd feel the same in their shoes.
However, as they moved slowly, they just leisurely traded jokes among themselves. Those figures silently moving to execute the operation were truly worthy of respect.
"Incoming! Shields up!!"
After a brief moment of moving in lockstep, the full-scale siege battle began, signaled by the arrows flying to turn men into pincushions.