The Fall of Torgenberg
“An enemy detachment has surrounded Torgenberg?”
“Yes, my lord!”
“How in the world did they get in?”
“Through the side path used during the Eleventh Invasion!”
“The Meyer family was supposed to be holding that route.”
“…”
“Franz Meyer… you’ve betrayed us!”
The moment Endia drew his sword, every man present followed suit.
“Hear me, all of you! Kill Franz Meyer on sight!”
But before the order could even be carried down the ranks—
Dong! Dong! Dong!
The alarm bells began to toll without mercy.
“Why are the bells ringing?!”
“The enemy main force… the main force is attacking!”
“Attacking out of nowhere? We still hold a two-to-one advantage!”
Then the head of House Plea spoke.
“…It is no longer two to one.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“If House Meyer has defected and joined the enemy, the numbers are no longer two to one.”
“…”
A chill ran down the spines of the Four Great Houses.
“We must withdraw the army at once.”
“But… the enemy is closing in by the minute! If we pull back now, they’ll take us from behind—casualties are inevitable!”
“If we mean to preserve even a fraction of our men, withdrawal is the only option. Otherwise the Meyer forces will pin us front and rear, and we will be annihilated.”
“Damn it all!”
Thud! Endia hurled the kite his lord had given him onto the floor. He had brought it along to show off to the Meyers. Stamping on it again and again in a fury, he turned to the house heads.
“All of you—return to your own houses.”
“W-wait! What about our lord?”
“Even if you left this instant, it would already be too late. Abandon the lord and fall back to your own castles. Hold them.”
“…Understood.”
The order to abandon their lord had been given, yet not a single man found it strange. To them, a lord was nothing more than a puppet—someone who could be replaced at will and steered however they pleased. Not one soul present felt true loyalty toward Adel.
Before long the Four Great Houses fled with their soldiers in tow, and the Kruzenstein forces followed in their wake, methodically whittling down the retreating ranks.
By the time the Four Great Houses reached their own castles, the armies they still possessed had been gutted—men dead, scattered by enemy raids, or simply deserting. Fewer than half remained.
Kruzenstein led the main force straight into Torgenberg Castle, the seat of House Setia.
“Blessed by nature on every side. To think a fortress like this exists… Had we tried to take it by conventional means, it would have taken an eternity.”
Leona von Kruzenstein could not help but marvel at Torgenberg’s defensive strength.
When they reached the castle gates, Clemens was already waiting on one knee, the great doors thrown wide open to receive her.
“Clemens.”
“My lord.”
“You’ve done well.”
“No. This one worked far harder than I did.”
Clemens’s gaze fixed on Lucill Meyer. Lucill had gathered every remaining soldier of her house, abandoned even the defense of Meyer Castle itself, and joined Kruzenstein’s detachment to help bring Torgenberg down.
Seeing Lucill for the first time, Leona was struck with admiration. That such a beauty existed under heaven—had she been a man, she would have taken her as a wife and kept her close without a second thought.
“You are Franz Meyer’s younger sister?”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“Your service will be rewarded separately in due course. Look forward to it.”
“Yes.”
“Clemens—and that one?”
Clemens rose at once, seized Adel by the scruff of the neck, dragged him forward, and dumped him at Leona’s feet. The moment Adel saw her, he began to tremble like a rabbit before a tiger.
“I-I-I, that is…”
Leona could only stare in disbelief.
He hasn’t even the spine to stand tall before an enemy. A thoroughly ordinary man.
She sighed and addressed him.
“Adel von Setia.”
“Y-yes!”
“Franz Meyer is a loyal subject without peer. Why did you push such a man away and keep strange company instead?”
“Th-that is…”
That is… why had he?
In his heart he had depended on Franz Meyer completely. Yet Franz had spoken nothing but things he did not want to hear, and so, little by little, he had drifted away. It had never been deliberate. Deep down he had continued to lean on Franz Meyer. He had only wished the man would stop hounding him to attend to affairs of state.
Adel von Setia had thought of Franz Meyer as an older brother and trusted him utterly. That he had still pushed him away was the product of misunderstandings born of the smallest things—and those misunderstandings had led to this.
“If you will not answer, I will not press. Take him away.”
“Yes!”
Adel was terrified. Where were they taking him? Would he be locked in a dungeon the way his father had been? Until he died? Would he simply vanish in silence, no one ever knowing when or how he had gone?
Thinking that, Adel wet himself.
Soon after, Franz Meyer and the faction that had thrown in with him entered Torgenberg Castle.
Leona sat upon the throne House Setia had used and looked down upon the hall.
It is neither larger nor more splendid than the Kruzenstein throne—but sitting on someone else’s seat feels rather fine.
I have taken a country. This country is mine now. The thought alone filled her with satisfaction.
“Sir Franz Meyer has arrived.”
“Admit him.”
Franz Meyer appeared before her.
The man in the flesh was nothing like she had imagined. She had pictured a cold, razor-eyed, intellectual strategist—yet he looked surprisingly ordinary, and more than anything…
He does not give the impression of a ruthless man.
He had the air of a warm-hearted village youth. The mismatch startled her a little, yet she found she did not mind it.
“Franz Meyer.”
“Your Grace.”
“Call me your lord.”
“We have not yet formally concluded a vassal contract.”
“Pay no mind to contracts that can be broken at any time. True loyalty comes not from paper but from the heart. You have chosen to follow me—so address me as your lord from this day.”
“Your Grace.”
“…”
Stubborn, aren’t you. She let it go and spoke again.
“Very well. We shall hold the ceremony soon enough. Then answer me this, Franz Meyer. Why did you betray Adel?”
“Because I had ambition.”
“Ambition?”
“I simply wished to rise higher and take more for myself.”
“Pfft…”
Leona laughed before she could stop herself.
“Franz Meyer.”
“Yes.”
“You have not raised your head this entire time.”
“It is proper etiquette not to lift one’s gaze before a duke.”
“I command you—raise your head.”
Franz Meyer looked up. His features were gentle, yet there was no light in his eyes. Leona found him pitiful—and for that very reason, felt a sharper urge to torment him further.
“Franz Meyer. Look into my eyes. From this moment, speak no more lies. You are not a man who would betray his lord for ambition. Had you been, you would have raised your own banner and made yourself a sovereign rather than come to me. Even so, I will forgive the falsehood this once—because I find you to my liking. Forgiveness is granted only this once. Next time, speak the truth. Why did you betray Adel?”
“…”
“…”
Franz felt it instinctively. Lies would not work before this woman. If surrender was inevitable sooner or later, better to yield now. He chose the truth.
“It was all because of me.”
“Because of you?”
“Lord Adel could not, even by the kindest measure, be called a capable ruler. He neglected affairs of state and spent his days building kites with his pupils.”
“I am aware. House Kruzenstein keeps its own informants.”
“Had it ended there, I would not have betrayed him. The problem was that I existed.”
Leona’s expression turned puzzled.
“And why is that a problem?”
“So long as I remained, House Setia would never have submitted easily to House Kruzenstein. Year after year of defeat, yes—but buoyed by the natural defenses of this land, they could have limped on somehow.”
“…”
That Kruzenstein could not easily conquer Setia sat poorly with her, yet she did not bother to refute it. The words were true.
“Year after year, Kruzenstein and Setia would have warred to the breaking point. Both houses would have become hells. To fund the colossal cost of those campaigns, countless people would have been wrung dry—and far more would have suffered under crushing taxes and starvation than ever died on the battlefield. Rather than walk a road of suffering so plain to see, I judged it better to betray my lord and save the people. That is why this is all because of me.”
Meyer spoke with a heavy heart, yet Leona watched his face with a steadily brightening smile. She found herself liking Franz Meyer more and more—starting with the sheer confidence that a single strategist named himself could alter the fate of two houses, and ending with the warmth that thought of the common people. What pleased her most of all was that none of it was bluster or delusion. It was the truth. She had drawn much the same conclusion herself.
“Franz Meyer. You grow more interesting by the moment.”
“…”
Honestly, Franz Meyer was already weary of Leona. He had known what sort of person she was—a woman forever hungry for talent, eyes always bright for the next gifted soul. What he disliked was the sense that his grief was nothing more than fodder to fill the hollow of her appetite. And so, with a touch of defiance, he opened his mouth.
“Your Grace.”
“What is it? Speak freely.”
“I am tired from the long road. May I go and rest?”
“…!”
Shocked faces turned from every corner of the hall. In all their lives, not one of them had ever seen a man, standing in audience before his sovereign, be the first to declare himself tired and ask leave to rest. What insolence was this? While the court reeled, Leona threw back her head and laughed.
“Hahaha!”
Where others saw only Franz Meyer’s rudeness, Leona found his behavior endearing—like a small animal baring its claws in protest.
“Very well. Go and rest. I have kept you too long.”
When she spoke with laughter still in her voice, her vassals felt relief and astonishment in equal measure. Had that tyrant Leona von Kruzenstein ever been so generous with a single subordinate? Had any other man uttered such insolence, a severed head would not have been surprising.
“Before you go.”
But Leona was not finished.
“One thing more. One month from now, I shall give you a gift. A very great gift, given with all my heart—so look forward to it.”
Franz Meyer knew Leona exceedingly well. She was, after all, the protagonist of the game. Even so, he did not know everything—and he could not begin to guess what gift she meant to give him.
Watching him, Leona made a private resolution: the moment this audience ended, she would hound her subordinates until her carefully hidden, decisive gift was ready to deliver.