Night of Chaos (1)
Night of Chaos (1)
Dharon Kingdom.
It was an era of chaos, a time when the Archesium Empire, the Cheonghyeon Empire, two kingdom alliances, and three principalities had been engaged in fierce territorial wars for decades.
The kingdom that had emerged from the alliance and fully absorbed the three principalities to establish its foundation.
That kingdom, with its 415-year history, was feeling the crisis of national extinction for the first time since its founding.
Even the central nobles, who had always looked down on the local lords and snubbed their noses at them, recognized the severity of the situation this time and issued a mandatory conscription order to every noble in the kingdom.
It was an extreme measure to scrape up every last private soldier and farmer in the fiefs in preparation for the massive war with the Empire that was to come.
And in the central strategy room, where the air was so heavy it was suffocating.
The gazes of the kingdom's key nobles, seated around a massive circular table, were all fixed on the letter placed in the center of the table.
It was an ultimatum that had flown in from the Archesium Empire this morning.
[All land on the continent will be united under the flag of Archesium; this is an irresistible flow of history and the will of the heavens. Those who cling to old crowns and try to go against the waves of the era will crumble like sandcastles under the Empire's footsteps. We, Archesium, are on the verge of a noble task toward a brilliant unified empire.]
Beneath the declaration, which oozed arrogance just by looking at it, a short sentence was added—a sentence that only one person on the continent could have written:
[If you wish to hinder My desire, prepare to fight with the resolve to lose everything. If you wish to enter under the Empire quietly, open all castle gates. Then, no blood wind shall blow in the kingdom.]
"......."
The reaction of the nobles facing the letter was split exactly in half.
"Even if our kingdom's territory is entirely absorbed, we must send a surrender envoy immediately! Have you forgotten how the Rehentra Kingdom was trampled in just three months? The Imperial Army are monsters!"
Count Voltas slammed his fist onto the table, his face turning red with rage.
However, the old general sitting opposite him, Duke Hern, lightly dismissed his suggestion and retorted.
"We must show those arrogant Imperial bastards the true potential of our kingdom! To tuck our tails without even fighting... how could you possibly face our ancestors who maintained 400 years of history!"
"We'll be dead by tomorrow if we try to face our ancestors!"
Surrender versus resistance.
As high-pitched voices clashed between the two factions, Viscount Delton, the chief of the Border Guards who had been silently watching the declaration of war and the power comparison chart from the corner, opened his mouth.
"Everyone, please calm down. According to the last intel Olden sent before he died, the commander in charge of this Dharon conquest is the man who will become the Empire's Imperial Consort. Doesn't that strike you as dangerous?"
"That is...."
"......."
At those words, the noisy conference room went quiet in an instant, as if cold water had been poured over it.
"He's right. If he has caught the eye of that blood-crazed tyrant, he must possess extraordinary ability, whether in swordsmanship or tactics."
"Then what do you want us to do? Are you saying we should be scared of the commander's name before we even fight?"
Just as a second round of annoyed debate was about to ignite, Marquis Vane cleared his throat and carefully offered his opinion.
"Why don't we try an assassination attempt on that Imperial Consort?"
At the straightforward proposal, a few nobles flinched and shuddered.
Count Voltas frowned and immediately countered.
"Seeing as Olden was executed, it seems the Emperor is openly using him as bait. Will she really give him the position of commander? There's no need to risk our moles who are well-hidden. It would be better to wait for an opportunity after unification...."
"Isn't that Imperial Consort the rumored 3rd Prince of Rehentra?"
Duke Hern also added to Count Voltas's opinion.
"He's a discarded child of the Rehentra King. Would the great Beletria really fall for such a man and think of making him her Imperial Consort? It's clearly a ploy to weed out and filter our remaining moles."
The atmosphere was one of agreement that it was a shallow trap set by the Emperor.
However, Marquis Vane placed his clasped hands on the table with a relaxed expression.
"Isn't that exactly why it's worth a try?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't mean using the high-level spies hidden deep in the Imperial Palace. We can use the stray dogs planted in the slums outside the capital, Iter, whose tails can be cut at any time. Even if that prince is an incompetent fool who is merely bait, as the Duke says, killing him in the middle of the capital would bruise the Empire's pride and break the enemy's morale."
The Marquis's voice grew more forceful.
"Conversely, if he is a hidden tactical genius, as Olden warned with his life on the line? If he really is a man favored by the Emperor? We would be removing the enemy's most fatal variable before the war even begins. If we succeed, it's an unconditional gain—either smearing the Emperor's face or cutting off the enemy's brain. And even if we fail, we just cut the tail."
It was a valid argument.
Whether it was bruising the Emperor's pride or assassinating a true genius commander, either way, it was a profitable deal for the Dharon Kingdom.
Furthermore, if there was no risk of losing high-level moles, there was no reason to hesitate.
"In that case, certainly...."
"If we leave no evidence, it won't matter even if Dharon is the primary suspect."
The air in the conference room began to change subtly.
The hesitant nobles also showed signs of agreeing with the plan.
And Viscount Delton, the chief of the Border Guards who had first mentioned Prince Idelon, also made a gesture of agreement and said.
"Even if we fail, it won't be too late to surrender then. Even if Beletria, that mad Emperor, loves blood, she hasn't shown cruelty to those who bow their heads."
"That is certainly true. If they refuse surrender without clear evidence, the remaining kingdoms will fight with the resolve to perish."
"Fine. If it's a gamble where we lose nothing, it's worth taking."
In the end, after a long meeting, a unanimous conclusion was reached.
The first step to shaking the strongest empire on the continent.
It was to take the head of Idelon Halden Rehentra, the hostage prince of Rehentra who had appeared out of nowhere and held command over 120,000 troops.
Of course, some nobles were already thinking about how to curry favor with the Emperor after the surrender.
"Aren't you sleepy, Ruamel?"
It was nearing midnight.
I let out a long yawn and looked at Ruamel, who had been silently keeping me company by my side.
Ever since I told her about what happened with Beletria, we had been meeting at late hours.
At first, Ruamel had tried to stop meeting me entirely out of loyalty, but thanks to my desperate persuasion, we were able to continue our meetings, albeit very briefly, at such late hours.
"We are trained to have no issues sleeping only four hours a day, so I am not particularly tired."
Ruamel replied, pouring tea into the empty cup that had been sitting on my desk.
"If you are tired, how about we stop here for today?"
"...Well. I'd like to, but this is my first stage to show everyone who I am, right? I'm getting impatient because I want to finish this as perfectly as possible."
"Indeed...."
"Above all, we just finished the declaration of war today, right? I have to finish this thinking that I'll sleep when I'm dead for the next three days."
Scratch- scratch!
I dipped my quill in ink again and continued writing the document.
Not stopping there, I leaned over the desk and began drawing new lines on the map, erasing and redrawing them repeatedly.
'The path I chose isn't bad, but changing the supply route escort troop placement would be better.'
The terrain leading to the Dharon Kingdom, even outside of Cailders, is quite rugged.
It means I have to account for not only enemy ambushes but also the variables of monsters that might pop out from deep in the forest once the sun goes down.
I was constantly calculating the intervals of the transport carriages, the shift times of the escort guards, and the emergency signal systems in my head, filling up the blank paper.
It was while I was immersed in the paperwork, holding my breath, that she spoke.
"I've felt it since I first met you, but Your Highness is truly amazing."
Ruamel, who was still guarding my side and tidying up the room, muttered in a low voice.
I asked back, my gaze still fixed on the tactical map.
"What's with the sudden praise? Even if you scrape my empty life, there's nothing to give you."
At my joke-filled retort, Ruamel fell silent for a moment.
I could feel her gaze alternating between the pile of tactical plans I had stacked up and my face.
Before long, Ruamel opened her mouth, adding a touch of warmth to her usual dry voice.
"The unwavering decisiveness when you handed over the marriage proposal at your first audience with Her Majesty... and you don't complain even though you've suddenly risen to the heavy position of the Empire's commander-in-chief."
"That is...."
"That's not all. You don't run or hide, and you stay up all night giving your all just to satisfy Her Majesty... I honestly thought it was cool."
At the overly pure praise from an elite who had graduated at the top of the Archesium Military Academy, I stopped moving my hand without realizing it.
'...Was all my struggling not in vain?'
I awkwardly raised my left hand and scratched my cheek.
A cough escaped my throat because the back of my neck felt itchy for no reason.
"Ahem. You're overpraising me. I'm just doing my best in the position I've been given."
"I see, you are right."
I tapped the edges of the documents to align them, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.
"Still, thank you, Ruamel. I was a bit tired, but it gives me some strength. I'll finish this part quickly and sleep."
To hide my slightly embarrassed feelings, I began moving my quill faster than usual.
Formulas and topographic maps were drawn on the parchment without rest.
But it was at that very moment.
I felt an unpleasant sensation right behind me, as if someone had stroked the back of my neck with a cold hand.
'Uh...?'
It was the moment I instinctively tried to turn my head.
Clang-!
With a sound that threatened to tear my eardrums, the large balcony window behind me shattered into pieces.
Before the sound of sharp glass shards scattering onto the carpet could even fade.
From the deep darkness beyond the broken window, dozens of black arrowheads began to pour down mercilessly toward my back.
"Uh?"