A Very Low Probability
“Even as lord, there will be little for you to do. The administrators will handle internal affairs on their own, and the knights will maintain public order. All you need do is keep a watchful eye on them.”
Watchful eye or not, the truth was I would hardly have to do a thing. There was no chance they would entrust real responsibility to a man who had only just woken from a vegetative state.
“However—should bandits attack, however remote the chance, you will take command of the soldiers and fight.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You are the eldest son of House Meyer, and you have studied military strategy. That much, at least, you ought to manage.”
I was a modern man until six months ago, you know. Sure, I had completed my military service, but a private and a general were hardly the same thing.
I wanted to snap that back at him, yet all that left my mouth was a quiet “Understood.” I bowed my head in acknowledgment, and Father departed with a look of satisfaction.
All for the sake of an earldom.
Well—a very low probability. Nothing would come of it.
I want to punch the me who thought that.
Why had I failed to register that this was a world inside a game?
“A very low probability of such a thing occurring.” What did that phrase actually mean?
It will definitely happen!
Yes! Father had, most unfortunately, dropped a foreshadowing bomb of the highest caliber before he left!
And sure enough, one week after his departure…
“Messenger! Messenger! The Kruzenstein army has appeared at the front!”
“What? Of course they have—there’s a war on at the front.”
“That’s not it! The Kruzenstein army crossed the mountains, ignored the forward fortresses, and pushed deep into our interior! The soldiers at the front were nothing but bait!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“There must have been… a side path we didn’t know about.”
Fuck? This never even came up in the game.
Then again, it wasn’t strange that I wouldn’t know. The game began in the year 550. This was 545—before the story even started—and the events of this period were never covered in detail.
“How many?”
“Enemy strength: three thousand total.”
“Their commander?”
“Clemens de Balboa.”
Damn it. An A+/S-tier officer with Leadership 91 and Might 96.
“Our total troop count?”
“Even scraping together every conscript, we don’t reach five hundred.”
Wow…
We were well and truly fucked.
If this were a convenient world where five hundred could surround and annihilate three thousand, maybe. In this situation, there was no path to victory.
I bit down hard on a fingernail. At this rate, I might actually die.
“Older Brother.”
In that moment, my younger sister appeared.
Lucill Meyer—the girl who would one day become the greatest strategist alive.
For an instant the thought flashed through me: What if it’s her? Then, just as quickly, I felt a surge of self-loathing for expecting strategy from an eleven-year-old child.
“Lucill, you’re awake? You don’t need to be afraid. We’ll protect you.”
That was right. Whatever the future held, right now she was just a little girl who needed protecting.
“Thank you. But there’s something I wanted to ask.”
“What is it?”
“The enemy left their main force as bait and formed a detached unit, didn’t they?”
So she had been listening…
“That’s right.”
“Then where is the detached unit headed?”
“Where else? They’re taking advantage of every soldier being concentrated at the front to raid the castles in the rear.”
“Then is the castle we’re in their destination?”
“Huh? Is it?”
Asked like that, it was harder to say.
Wait. Come to think of it—where was the enemy actually going?
“Asilia, are you there?”
Asilia was House Meyer’s sole striker in a family otherwise stocked with strategists—the general who led troops on the front lines. Her stats were somewhat unbalanced, but she was useful enough in her own way.
“Yes.”
“Attach scouts for a while and determine the enemy’s destination.”
“Yes!”
Three days later.
Asilia returned with her soldiers.
“Results of the reconnaissance?”
I felt a little guilty for demanding results the moment she arrived, but the matter was urgent enough that I asked anyway.
“Well—the enemy appeared to be preparing for a long-distance march.”
“Why do you judge that?”
“They were looting the surrounding villages, and the quantities they took were considerable.”
“They’re pushing even deeper inland than this?”
“Yes. If my assessment is correct.”
That was a shock. What on earth were they after? Could it be…
“Torgenberg Castle?”
Torgenberg was the great seat of House Setia—the stronghold of this entire region.
“It’s possible.”
It was also where the Duke of Setia and his family resided.
The duke himself was at the front, so he wouldn’t be there—but if the place fell, his family would be taken.
“Ah…”
The enemy had used a side path to bypass our fortresses entirely. Why go to such lengths? Just to take a few rear castles?
That seemed like far too much preparation for far too little gain. Castles were seized and lost all the time. But the duke’s family was another matter.
“They’re after hostages…”
If the duke’s family were taken hostage, the duke himself would no longer be free to fight as he pleased. And Father, as the duke’s vassal, would be in the same position.
“But at this point, what we can actually do…”
Knowing the enemy’s plan didn’t mean we could do anything about it. We had five hundred; they had three thousand.
We were, in effect, residual forces. The main strength had all moved to the front lines, leaving only those of dubious combat value. Even if the headcount was five hundred, actual fighting strength was closer to three hundred at best. And the other castles would be in the same situation…
“Wait. Hold on.”
The other castles? Meaning the other castles were in the same boat?
That was it! There were other castles. House Meyer wasn’t the only family left in the rear. Endia, Ost, Giesel—countless houses still remained!
“Asilia.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to write letters to the rear houses. Send messengers to deliver them to each family.”
“Yes!”
The letter read as follows.
An enemy detached force has bypassed the front and penetrated deep into our interior. At first glance this appears a crisis, yet the enemy’s supply lines are severed and they have advanced deep into our main territory. If we vassals draw the garrison troops from our castles and gather them, we can easily assemble some five thousand men. With such overwhelming numbers, we will be able to defeat the enemy detachment. I ask each of you to lend your strength.
In other words: pull the garrisons out of their castles, concentrate them, and intercept the invaders.
A vassal of House Setia. Honestly, I wasn’t thrilled with the starting position. Setia was not the protagonist house, and aside from the founding lord, its rulers had generally been incompetent.
But it was far too early for them to fall. Without House Setia, there was no House Meyer. Someday I might leave the Setia fold—but not now. For the present, I needed House Setia. An umbrella against the rain, beneath the dark clouds of a chaotic age.
I resolved to raise troops to protect House Setia.
And three days later—
To a truly astonishing degree, not a single person paid any attention.
In response to my request that they pull garrisons and intercept the enemy, the soldiers who assembled numbered a mere two hundred.
Each house had sent only a token handful for form’s sake. Not one had dispatched a proper defensive force.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…”
The curse slipped out the moment I saw the gathered troops. The soldiers’ faces tightened with unease.
“Forgive me. That was not directed at any of you.”
I apologized to the soldiers, then turned back toward camp and kept swearing the entire way.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not a single decent bastard among them.”
Their lord’s family was on the verge of being taken hostage—why weren’t any of these so-called vassals moving? In the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, people punched through armies of a million to save their lord’s son.
“Wait.”
Something flashed through my mind.
“They say Eastern loyalty and Western loyalty are different, don’t they?”
Western lord-vassal relations were feudal—that is, contractual. The vassal lent strength to the lord; the lord protected the vassal. That was the contractual bond of Western feudalism, and loyalty went no further. It was a thoroughly businesslike relationship.
Eastern lord-vassal relations, by contrast, had the vassal offering everything to the sovereign—and the sovereign, in turn, offering everything under heaven. Of course Eastern and Western loyalty would differ.
“I’d forgotten that Western loyalty works like this.”
I had only ever learned history from books, never lived it. Knowledge without embodiment.
So what now? How was I supposed to defeat that detached force?
I was still turning the problem over when—
“Do we really have to stop them?”
“Hm?”
It was my sister Lucill who had appeared so suddenly. She settled herself beside me where I sat slumped on the ground.
“In a chaotic age, the most important thing is one’s own house, isn’t it? Even if your lord’s house falls, if your own house survives, you can always find another lord.”
“…!”
In that moment I could only be astonished. This child—Lucill—was proposing that we abandon our lord and side with Kruzenstein.
“Is that what you’ve been thinking?”
I lifted her onto my lap.
“Lucill, I allowed you to come along because you insisted so stubbornly—but you shouldn’t be thinking about war. Enjoy your childhood for now.”
“Older Brother, I may be young, but I am a member of House Meyer. I have received as much education as anyone.”
I couldn’t help being surprised. This child, always so obedient, asserting herself so firmly—I had never expected it.
“Think about it. His Grace the Duke of Setia spent a lifetime steeped in betrayal and intrigue, and now he stands as the head of a great house. Following his example—abandoning the Duke of Setia and attaching ourselves to Kruzenstein—might that not be one path open to us? If we supply them, Kruzenstein could easily seize House Setia’s stronghold.”
“Well… I suppose that’s possible.”
It was possible. There was a certain logic to Lucill’s words.
“Or is it a matter of principle? That knightly code forbids betrayal, that sort of thing…?”
“No. I consider betrayal an essential virtue in a chaotic age.”
“Then why…?”
“Betrayal, you see, does the most damage the less it is expected. A betrayal from someone who has built a reputation for good faith is far more effective than one from a man who betrays as casually as he eats.”
“…!”
“You and I have only just stepped out into the world, haven’t we? So this is not the time for betrayal. This is the time to build trust.”
At those words, Lucill nodded. She seemed to accept it.
“In that case…”
Lucill said,
“There is one method by which we can stop the enemy and build that trust.”
“…!”
Intelligence 100 of Arcadia Tactics—was Lucill’s true worth already on display at the age of eleven?