Imperial Friendship Match (8)
Lucas Schufen Barhart gritted his teeth as he galloped across the vast plain. Even the nobles who had immediately withdrawn their support the moment he found himself even slightly cornered. The military faction that had sworn such fervent loyalty yet now looked at him with resentment the instant the topic of the friendship match arose. His younger brother, who sneered as if it were already over, and the crown prince, who feigned consolation while dripping with hypocrisy. The chancellor, who had refused cooperation multiple times with every excuse imaginable despite Lucas reaching out repeatedly. And the emperor himself, who had watched with cold indifference, as though his own son being driven into a corner held no interest for him. Above all, the one he could never forgive was his grandfather—the man who had hounded him so relentlessly over nothing more than meddling with a few worthless rabble.
What was an academy, anyway? What was this so-called sword for humanity? It was nothing but a haphazard collection of commoners who hadn't even undergone proper verification of their origins or status, along with half-baked nobles who felt no shame whatsoever at being lumped together with them. What possible problem could there be in using such people as mere stepping stones? And how was it wrong to put that woman in her place—that woman who shamelessly paraded herself as royalty despite carrying the blood of a mere vassal state?
His rage and resentment transformed into killing intent, driving his footsteps deeper into the earth with every stride. His grandfather, once an object of respect, was now nothing more than an old man waiting for death. Though it was still difficult to openly reveal the feelings he harbored in his heart, that time was not far off. In this contest, he would prove that he and his father—who had spent his entire life living invisibly in his grandfather's shadow—were different.
"Your Highness! Enemy sighted in the right forward quadrant! Appears to be a single individual!"
"A scout, then. Thorough, but lacking in ability—meaningless in the end."
On the battlefield, information was the very key to determining victory or defeat. Accurately—and more quickly than the opponent—grasping the enemy's position, scale, and troop composition was critically important. Yet all of that became pointless the moment one's reconnaissance was detected.
Red magic power flickered in Lucas's eyes, revealing the figure of someone far across the plain who had turned their back and was fleeing. For a moment, he questioned the scout's painfully slow escape speed for someone supposedly elite, but he soon understood. He recalled that among the enemy forces were those with inferior skills who had been brought along simply to fill out the numbers. They were probably using this one for reconnaissance since they were too unreliable for direct combat.
"Hand me a spear!"
With a crunch, the ground beneath Lucas's feet collapsed as if crumbling. The spear shot skyward like a bolt of lightning and pierced straight through the right thigh of the enemy soldier sprinting at high speed.
Watching the soldier tumble and collapse onto the ground, Lucas issued his command.
"He should still be breathing. Go and capture him."
"Would it not be better to leave him and continue pursuit?"
"There's a high chance he's deliberately trying to lure us in the wrong direction. If the Southern Legion Commander is in charge, he would have the wit for such petty tricks."
"Yes, sir!"
Even as he gave the order, Lucas held no great expectations. After all, with an "out" available through unconsciousness rather than actual death, capture held little meaning. Unless the pain delayed their judgment momentarily, there were countless ways to escape before spilling any information. That was why Lucas felt the opposite of satisfaction when the opponent was brought before him without resistance.
No matter how low the quality of the Southern Army was, could they truly be incapable of even this basic response?
His doubts were resolved the instant he saw the captured enemy's face. Undignified, frivolous blond hair and a monocle. It was the commoner who had previously dared to refuse answering his question. Now the man was groveling on the ground before him, drenched in cold sweat.
"Hah, so it was you—the academy student at the center of this little disturbance."
"Ugh... ugh..."
"Tsk."
Lucas clicked his tongue at the sight of the man clutching his pierced thigh and whimpering, having dared to ignore even his question. If it were up to his temper, he would have kicked him or cut his throat right then and there, but since the goal was interrogation, killing him was pointless. And if he clumsily inflicted pain and caused the man to faint, he would escape to the outside before they could wake him—equally troublesome.
At Lucas's glance, one of the knights beside him pulled out the spear and poured a potion into the wound. White Light users were useful for healing and support but lacked pure mobility, making them ill-suited for assault units. The wound healed rapidly as the potion soaked in, and the commoner—who had been gasping and wheezing—finally caught his breath.
Resolving that if the man failed to answer properly this time, he would forget interrogation and simply behead him, Lucas asked once more.
"From the looks of it, your skills seem insufficient, yet you still chose to participate in a match like this."
Lucas had intended to thoroughly crush the opponent's spirit with a remark about knowing his place before moving on to serious interrogation, but he was forced to stop at the commoner's outburst.
"T-that's right! I told them I absolutely couldn't do it, but Her Highness the Imperial Princess forced me!"
The rudeness of interrupting his words would have warranted beheading, but curiosity overrode his displeasure.
"She forced you to be selected? No matter how weak the Southern Army may be, there should be plenty of people more skilled than you."
"W-well, that's..."
Only then did the commoner seem to realize his verbal slip. He glanced around nervously before squeezing his eyes shut and attempting to bite down on something in his mouth.
Thud!
Lucas kicked the commoner in the face, causing a small pill-like object to bounce out from inside.
"Guh!"
Lucas pressed his blade right up to the commoner's nose.
"Who do you think you're trying to pull tricks in front of! Did you really believe that a pathetic wretch like you could escape my grasp just by slipping outside? Big mistake! Speak the truth at once!"
At that moment, one of the Central Army knights beside them spoke up.
"...Your Highness, it seems we're wasting too much time on a mere scout. Perhaps we should ignore him and move on."
Despite the reasonable advice, Lucas openly displayed his displeasure.
"Do you think I would act this way without having calculated even that much? I have my reasons, so stand down!"
The knight bowed his head and retreated. After coughing up blood several times, the trembling commoner finally opened his mouth.
"Th-there was a power struggle within our own forces! Her Highness the Imperial Princess said she couldn't fully trust the Southern Army and tried to bring in nobles from Morian, but the Southern Legion Commander opposed it, so..."
"Bringing in Morian? Hahaha! That woman has gone blind with greed and lost her judgment. It's only natural that the Southern Legion Commander would stop her. So, what happened?"
"After repeated opposition, Her Highness grew fed up and gave up on bringing in Morian. Instead, she drastically reduced the Southern Army's role within the unit. Not only did she bring in forces from Spero that she had gotten to know at the academy, but she also forcibly dragged me along, saying she needed even one more person on her side. That's how I ended up here."
"Hmm. So you were dragged along against your will? How am I supposed to believe that?"
"I-it's the truth! From the beginning, that bastard Alphonse... Ah, I mean, the people from Spero that Her Highness brought in this time are like mortal enemies to our family! Her Highness really went too far... Ah, no, that's not... I would never dare insult the imperial family, it's just... no, that's not..."
Watching the commoner panic and babble incoherently, Lucas felt his mood improve instead. The man who had been so stiff and secretive about confidentiality until recently was now finally knowing his place and floundering. It was incredibly satisfying.
"In other words, fighting by Laila’s side was never your intention. Then tell me the location of the main camp. Also, if you have a communication magic tool, use it to report our false position."
"Oh, Your Highness! If I do that and Her Highness gets angry later, I'm finished!"
"Nonsense! I will take care of the aftermath, so what are you hesitating for? Or should I just cut your head off right now!"
"Hic."
The restless commoner eventually pointed out the main camp's location as if he had no choice. With a blade still at his throat, he activated the communication magic tool.
"What is it? Do you have an additional report?"
"Your Highness! It's terrible! The enemies whose position we reported earlier through communication have suddenly changed direction and are heading somewhere else!"
"Tell me the new direction. They haven't been discovered, have they?"
"Y-yes, that's right! As for which way..."
The commoner was about to finish his false report when Laila's side suddenly paused.
"Wait. How did you know they changed direction? I ordered you to flee immediately after spotting the enemy without pursuing them."
"What? Ah, no, that's..."
"...You! How dare you!"
"N-no! It's not like that—"
The commoner's hurried excuses could not continue. The communication magic tool he was clutching suddenly emitted intense magic power and exploded on the spot.
The imperial prince's party, who had taken a step back and watched with interest, suffered no harm. But for the commoner who had taken the attack at point-blank range, the situation was different. His upper body scorched to a crisp brown, the commoner's body vanished in a flash of white light, sent outside the arena.
Lucas let out a mocking sigh of admiration.
"Hah, so she's not completely incompetent after all. She noticed something was off and had the decisiveness to eliminate a traitor."
"...This is the first time I've seen a communication magic tool used that way."
"She must have added that function in advance as a precaution. But we've already heard everything we needed to hear, so it's all pointless now."
She might have realized the reported location was false, but a main camp could not be moved so easily. In other words, the enemy's heart had already been exposed.
"Relay a message to the skirmishers to advance a little further. If the enemy main camp has more troops than expected, we'll attack together. If not, they'll be wandering around looking for our main camp, so they can return and join the defense."
A smile formed on Lucas's lips.
"Foolish woman. This is what happens when you keep commoners by your side."
Victory seemed to be right before his eyes.