Madrosa Civil War (1)
Meanwhile, Fayed, the representative of the Ahmed tribe, and the leaders of several mid-sized minor tribes had gathered to vent their frustrations.
“When the hell are we going to fight? We're out here because of this war, short on hands, and our families are struggling to make ends meet. We can't just sit around getting crushed like this!”
“We need to fight soon and grab something out of it.”
“A guy I know made a killing on one good raid and already headed back to his tribe!”
“Damn it!”
Those gathered here weren't getting any separate pay.
In the desert, the victor took everything from the loser, and such plundering wasn't seen as shameful or taboo.
It was a unique culture of the desert kingdoms, born from their harsh natural environment.
Unlike the major tribes who joined the war for grand ideals and justifications, many from the smaller tribes had jumped in hoping for a quick score.
Fayed cleverly exploited this, aiming to boost his influence within the independent unit.
Hmph! Listen to some unheard-of Western punk's orders? If we lose even one battle, I'll use it as an excuse to take command.
“Lord Fayed. Lord Hafez requests your presence at the command tent.”
“Got it!”
Dismissing the messenger, Fayed turned to the chieftains with him.
“Come on, let's go together.”
“Is it all right if we join?”
“Of course. Let's go claim our rights. If we leave it to that coward, we won't get a single coin.”
“R-right! Let's go urge them to march out!”
“Yeah!”
And so Fayed and the chieftains swarmed toward the command tent.
Hafez was startled at the sight.
“What? Where were you all that you arrive so perfectly timed?”
“Did we come somewhere we shouldn't?”
“No, I sent messengers inviting you, but they said you weren't at your camps. I didn't expect you'd all be together.”
“You were born in the desert too—don't play dumb!”
“Pardon?”
“Ahem!”
Hafez gave a wry smile.
It seemed his efforts to mediate between Calix and the other chieftains hadn't been well-received.
But he had no choice.
Calix was subsidizing food for the rebels.
Without him, things would have been far worse.
Unfortunately, they couldn't publicize it, so the others' views of him weren't favorable.
I guess I have to endure this much.
“You planning to keep us standing?”
“Ah, please, come in.”
“Hmph!”
Calix was dumbfounded.
Frankly, killing off these minor chieftains right here wouldn't bring Hafez any real trouble.
The desert's law was the law of the strong.
If this weren't the situation, they wouldn't even dare meet his eyes, so someone must have been stirring them up behind the scenes.
But he had no intention of digging into it now.
These are the same guys who were singing about marching out anyway—no opposition there.
Everyone sat around the large table.
Calix, in the head seat, stood and pointed to the map.
“Current situation. The line connecting these oases is the front line. The war... well, as you know, it's in a stalemate. Neither side has a clear advantage or disadvantage.”
Fayed jabbed in a bored tone.
“Skip the stuff we all know. We're not that idle.”
Hafez scowled and warned him.
“Fayed! Don't forget the man before you is our unit's commander!”
“Hmph! Hunkered down in the garrison, strutting around—anyone can call themselves commander, huh.”
Krout, standing beside Calix, frowned.
“That's too far!”
Fayed felt his heart sink under Krout's indifferent gaze.
So he's a warrior of the gods after all. If that guy were in charge, even I'd acknowledge it. But it's too late to turn back now.
He was Class 5 himself.
Even without drawing mana, a mere glance shouldn't intimidate him.
“I'm a senior warrior of the Ahmed tribe, leading five hundred warriors as vice-commander. Who are you to speak to me like that, some mere guard?”
At that moment, Calix raised a hand.
“What's your grievance? Stuck in garrison? If I order battle, will you follow? You're not backing out from fear, are you?”
“Don't insult us.”
“We're ready!”
“You've been the one blocking the march till now, haven't you, vice-commander?”
The minor chieftains chimed in one by one.
But instead of anger, Calix smiled with satisfaction.
“Good. Then I'll explain the operation plan.”
Calix raised the command baton and tapped the map.
“This is our first target.”
Silence fell.
They were too stunned to speak.
Only after a moment did the protests erupt.
“What? How does that even make sense? Are the enemy scouts buried in the sand sleeping?”
“Insane! Say we get there by sheer luck. The rear guard will be furious, chasing us with fire in their eyes. How do we return alive? This isn't a suicide mission, is it?”
War in the desert was different from the West.
Unlike the West, where fresh water was relatively easy to obtain, in the desert, supply lines depended entirely on oases.
Thus, wars progressed by expanding control over occupied oases.
But this heavily favored the defenders.
The attackers arrived exhausted after days crossing the desert, while the defenders just held the city.
“That's why the current war is so stagnant.”
“Enough with the obvious—get to the point. Kayaat as the attack target? It's deep in the rear, far from the front lines.”
“Exactly. It won't be easy, of course. But what if we succeed in striking it?”
Hafez murmured in surprise.
“Kayaat is one of the key supply depots feeding the current front lines. Multiple routes converge there.”
“If it's razed and they can't sustain supplies to the front...?”
Calix drew a line across the map with the baton.
“The front line shifts like this.”
“One front-line oasis falls right into our laps for free.”
“Exactly.”
As Hafez marveled repeatedly, an irritated Fayed drawled.
“Hmph! That's if we succeed. How do we take a whole city with our forces alone?”
Hafez shook his head.
“No. It's far in the rear. I doubt it has defenses as strong as the front-line oases. With a surprise attack, our unit alone can seize it.”
Fayed had no retort.
Anyone could see Hafez's logic held water.
But there was another issue.
“Hmph! Even so, we'll get spotted by scouts before halfway and chased down.”
This time, Hafez fell silent.
All eyes turned back to Calix for the solution.
“To move from this oasis to that one, you follow the black line. Why?”
“Straight-line distance takes over a week. And you can only navigate by stars at night. Daytime disorients you, so they set fixed routes with memorable landmarks.”
“Right. But what if we use some method to go straight like this?”
“...If such a method exists, we could dodge the scouts once. They'd only patrol the fixed paths.”
Calix turned to Fayed.
“Agree?”
“...If such a method really exists.”
“Good. Then I'll prove it.”
Calix's unit was camped a bit away from the front lines.
Before plunging into enemy territory, they decided to demonstrate his ability against friendly forces.
The goal: reach the front-line oasis without tripping allied scouts.
The scorching sun beat down, and endless yellow sands stretched on.
Calix's unit had been silently driving camels for days now.
Desert tribe warriors fared better.
The Szczecin territory troops, unaccustomed to the climate, suffered heatstroke victims daily.
Thanks to Calix's generous potion distribution, no deaths occurred, but the mood grew heavy.
Finally, unable to endure, Fayed sought him out.
“What the hell is this?!”
“What's wrong?”
“Who marches like this? We can't go farther. In a few hours, even reaching the nearest oasis will be tough. We're in the middle of the desert with no water left!”
But Calix remained calm.
He barely sweated from the start.
Even Fayed, at Class 5, was drenched.
Thanks to the ongoing effect of Breath of Mora, but Fayed, unaware, saw Calix as inhuman.
He'd once schemed for control; now survival took all his effort.
To the hardened Fayed, Calix replied calmly.
“Fine. Tonight, ration one day's water per warrior. Tell them to prepare waterskins.”
“Ration? Where's the water?”
Fayed looked incredulous.
Rationing a day's water for 2,500 warriors required massive volume.
“Heard of space-expansion boxes from the West?”
“Rumors, sure. But they'd be rotten by now?”
“Mine's high-grade; it's fine.”
Passing off his inventory as a vague high-grade artifact, Calix pulled a waterskin from his bosom and tossed it.
Fayed caught it, sipping suspiciously.
Ice-cold water refreshingly swirled in his mouth.
“Gah!”
He jolted as if fainting.
His grip tightened on the skin.
Recalling Calix's sweatless form, betrayal stung.
“Y-you've been hoarding this alone?”
“Huh?”
“N-no. Can I take this?”
“Heh, sure. This should ease complaints for now, right?”
“As long as reserves don't dwindle more. But it won't last long.”
Grumbling, Fayed stared at the waterskin.
Now he understood the vice-commander's composure amid his power plays.
Calix hadn't even considered him a threat.
Even ignorant, he knew such items' value.
If it held water for 2,500 men...?
Its worth was unimaginable.
Once dismissed as a naive Western noble, Calix was now untouchably high.
His strength drained away.
Then Calix spoke.
“Where do you think we are now?”
“Pardon?”
“Have you figured out our position?”
“Well...”
Fayed couldn't answer.
He knew the desert like home, but this spot eluded him.
They'd followed Calix's orders blindly.
“Imagine drawing a straight line between oases and following it.”
“Possible?”
“For me, yes. Tomorrow, we'll be within two hours of Al-Bran.”
Fayed had no strength left to be shocked.
“A-Al-Bran? Appearing before the city means their scout leader gets fired.”
“Heh, who knows. Think about it. Kayaat's a supply hub for the front. How much water's stockpiled there? Plunder would be quite the haul.”
A shiver ran through Fayed.
“Feed the warriors well tonight and bed them early.”
“Yes, understood.”
Before he knew it, Fayed addressed Calix deferentially.