Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: The Strategist's Mocking Gift
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Word arrived from the Norobogord Demon Alliance. The moderates had finally seized control of the Demon Council.
The first resolution passed after purging the hardliners who clamored for war with the Empire.
It called for the withdrawal of the forces positioned near the border, locked in a standoff with the Imperial Army.
"Is this really okay? The Imperial Army might hit us from behind."
[We've sent word of our council's resolution to the Imperial side. It states we'll refrain from further military action and seek diplomatic solutions. If they don't want ashes scattered on their parade, they'll hold back too.] Kalland of the Estania Family, who had taken the chairman's seat as the moderates' leader.
He was busy relaying internal news to his one and only daughter.
[That's the situation here. What's the mood on your end?] "You know how it is. Most field commanders want to avoid fighting the Empire, but the ops staff and higher-ups are fuming. They're pissed about pulling back without teaching the Imperials a lesson."
[Heh. They should count themselves lucky we didn't slaughter their precious heirs. Word is their morale's in the gutter anyway.] "...Yeah. You're right."
Kalland the chairman's only daughter. Sharlua nodded as she recalled that day.
Honestly, she still felt dazed thinking about it. What kind of divine prank was this?
A few days ago, a shooting star had torn through the night sky and plummeted toward the Imperial Army's camp.
Seeing it, the commanders and staff had shouted that God of War Anvar was foretelling our victory.
The troops got swept up in the frenzy, itching to charge the Imperials right then and there.
'Which didn't sit well with the field commanders.'
This wasn't an unavoidable all-out war like before. Both sides were just posturing, locked in a battle of wills.
If one side lunged first, it'd spiral into real bloodshed for both.
And in the end, it'd be the soldiers dying—so the commanders' reactions were understandably lukewarm.
For Sharlua herself, it was a mixed bag. Morale boost was nice, but combat was still a worry.
Whether moderates or hardliners took power would decide what came next.
She'd been watching the situation when 'that event' happened.
'It was utterly ridiculous. How is that even possible?'
The shooting star, trailing red as it hurtled down toward the Imperial camp, suddenly rose back up.
It blazed brilliantly just like before, soaring into the sky and vanishing among the stars with a whoosh.
The troops who saw it whispered, 'The star that fell rose again. That's a bad omen.'
Just the day before, the commander and staff had crowed, 'The shooting star is proof the enemy will fall!'
Anyone could infer the opposite outcome from the opposite sign.
[Whatever the case, it's good for us. I was worried high morale would make them hard to control. If things are a mess now, everyone's just itching to go home.] "You're right, Father. They're all just waiting for the pullback order even now."
[...] The chairman on the other end of the communication orb tilted his head before speaking.
[Something going on, Sharl?] "Huh? No, nothing much."
[Tut-tut. Your face is clouded with worry. Don't try fooling your old man.] She was his only daughter—did he think he couldn't read her expressions?
At his words, Sharlua gave a wry smile and answered.
"It's just a bit weird."
[Weird how?] "Honestly, it doesn't make sense. How could a falling shooting star rise back up? You know that's impossible, Father."
[Hmm.] "The Imperials must've pulled some trick. There's definitely a seasoned master strategist in their legion—someone incredibly sharp."
In Norobogord, they say, 'When an elder dies, a library burns away.'
It means the wisdom of the aged is invaluable, born of vast experience and insight.
To Sharlua, this had all the hallmarks of such a wise old fox at work.
How else could anyone dream up something so swift and absurd?
"Even thinking back on it, it's absurd. It was like they predicted it'd happen."
[Whether it was some old codger or a young punk doesn't matter. The result's in our favor. Fighting a battle would've made negotiating with the Empire a nightmare.] "Will the Empire really let our forces withdraw without a fight?"
[They'll at least pretend to nip at our heels.] We'd do the same in their shoes. Lighting a cigar, the chairman continued.
[But with that thick fog, no one moves their whole army recklessly.] "Father."
[You mean they might still move? Even then, it'd just be a probing jab with a small unit...] "How many times have I told you to quit those nasty cigars?"
[Oops.] Shar lua shot him a glare, and the chairman hurriedly snuffed out his cigar.
But it was too late. His daughter's eyes were already flashing with fury.
"You said you'd quit how many times."
[Well... Sigh. You know how it is. Your old man's got no choice without 'em. Even our moderate cronies won't listen, and the hardliners treat me like public enemy number one.] 'Quit anyway. Why burn that crap?'
Shar lua's retort never made it out.
—Dong! Dong! Dong!
"I'll call back later. Enemy alert."
[Enemy attack?] "Yes. Don't worry. If sentries spotted them through this fog, it's just a half-hearted poke like you said."
[Still, don't let your guard down. The battlefield hates predictions.] "Got it. Gotta go."
Ending the call, Sharlua donned her armor and stepped out of her tent.
"What's going on?"
"Imperials approaching from the front of camp! Can't confirm numbers yet, but we heard voices and wheel noises!"
Horses? Wheels? What were they up to? Sharlua tilted her head.
Both sides had orders to withdraw without issue. In fog this thick, visibility near zero. No clue what they were after.
"Sounds like they're within shooting range!"
Shouts of "What now?" erupted everywhere. Field commanders ordered hold and observe.
But the arriving commander issued a different order.
"What are you waiting for? Fire! If they're probing, we repel them before they get close! Who knows what they're scheming behind that fog shield!"
"No visual confirmation yet! Let's watch a bit longer..."
"Commander's order! The Imperials know we're pulling back, so they're testing us openly! Hesitate, and they'll walk all over us!"
Not entirely wrong, so the field commanders grumbled and stepped back.
"Should we hit 'em with magic?"
The demon commander pondered the staffer's suggestion, then shook his head.
"Firing magic without eyes on just highlights our mages' positions. Skip magic—drench 'em in arrows to keep 'em back."
What if the Imperials charged in rage? Battle might reignite.
That'd weaken the moderates naturally. Worth a gamble.
"Archers, ready!"
"Fire at will from ready archers! Loose!"
Fog hid the enemy. That spurred the archers on even more.
More arrows, and they'd slink away. Plus the shooting star memory sped them up.
"Hey, ease up! Conserve ammo!"
Field commanders looked horrified at the waste, some pleading eyes toward Sharlua.
But she had no say here.
Even as chairman's daughter, command was the commander's. Defy it, and it'd be overreach.
Especially her—gossip would fly.
"Cease fire."
"Cease fire!"
After minutes of arrow rain, commanders peered into the fog.
"..."
"..."
Had they retreated after damage? Or heeded the warning?
No Imperials approached.
"Looks like they've pulled back."
"Maintain alert until fog clears."
Standard response. Sane follow-up.
But they soon realized they were the only sane ones.
"Wh-what the hell."
"What is this?"
As fog lifted, an empty cart sat there... with a single letter.
— We'll gratefully accept the farewell gift. — Gift? What gift? What nonsense was this?
"...No way?"
"Son of a..."
Only then did they notice nearly all their arrows were gone.
A few uncollected strays rolled on the ground.
"...Ha, haha! Hahaha!"
Hearing the news, Sharlua burst out laughing despite herself.
'Good lord. What kind of terrifying monster is this?'
Counting on mutual restraint, no full war.
Predicted they'd respond with arrows, not magic or assault.
And capped it with blatant mockery, profiting without a fight.
A ridiculous old monster lurked in the Imperial camp. A genius strategist.
With a sigh—or was it awe?—Shar lua could only gape like she'd seen a ghost.