Into the Inferno

The knights stood in formation, ready to charge. Jeers flew toward Pelline, the Holy Knight Commander clad in full plate armor and a helmet.

"Hey! Isn't your commander hot in that thing? Tell her to take the helmet off!"

"Commander. You don't have to pay them any mind..."

"I know. Go check on the troops' condition again."

"Yes, ma'am."

But Pelline simply brushed it off without a care. There were reasons she couldn't remove her helmet, and she had already steeled herself for this kind of mockery. Perhaps even for the moment when what lay beneath it was exposed...

No. That won't happen.

Pelline quickly shook her head, dismissing the possibility. She had prepared herself, but that didn't mean she would ever let anyone see inside. Such a thing would not occur. No—it must not occur.

"All units! Prepare to charge!"

"Prepare to charge!"

The supreme commander's order rang out. A thunderous response echoed across the plains. Surely the enemy camp waiting in the distance could hear it too.

"We are outnumbered! But in terms of quality, we completely overwhelm the enemy! Those of you without experience, just follow the back of the man in front of you! That will be enough!"

The supreme commander, the Imperial Knight Commander, rode back and forth in front of the lines, encouraging the cavalry. Indeed, the suppression force was overwhelmingly smaller in number than the rebels. But most of the suppression troops were knights or former knights. On the other hand, the rebels were mostly beastkin who had been slaves. Barring any special variables, there was no reason they would lose in a pitched battle.

"Do not fear! Do not fear! The Imperial Knights stand with you!"

Soon, the ten knights of the Holy Knights also donned their helmets. They had been placed at the very rear. It was the position assigned to them because they had zero real combat experience.

"Charge!"

The sound of hooves thundered as dirt flew in every direction. Starting from the first rank, the three-deep cavalry formation began galloping at full speed toward the enemy camp. Their wide formation seemed to completely blanket the horizon.

"D-damn it..."

In the Southern Republic army's camp, sweat poured down the necks of the beastkin soldiers gripping their spears. The sound of hooves grew steadily closer, accompanied by a vibration that felt like the earth itself was being overturned. The iron helmets that completely covered their faces revealed no emotion. They were overwhelmed by an oppressive feeling, as if war machines were charging toward them.

Meanwhile, in the suppression force's charging formation—

"Enemy cavalry spotted on the right flank!"

"They're appearing on the left wing as well!"

The supreme commander's head whipped around from the very front. At least a thousand enemy cavalry on each side were charging toward their right and left wings. Was it a trap? But that didn't matter at all. Those bastards were light cavalry wearing nothing but thin leather armor.

"Ignore them! Continue the charge!"

"Uwaaaaaah!!!"

There was no way they could be a match. Once the order to ignore them had been given, there was no longer any reason to hesitate. The knights let out rough war cries that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠filled the plain. The absurd volume made even the supreme commander wince and sigh as if his ears might burst.

"I can't do this! Fuck, I can't!"

"Hey! Come back, you bastard!"

The moment the cavalry drew near, one beastkin soldier couldn't withstand the pressure, threw down his spear, and fled. After that, it was a free-for-all.

"Damn it! This is impossible!"

"Aaaagh! Fuck! Save me!"

The soldiers began abandoning their spears and deserting en masse. The cavalry hadn't even arrived yet, but the formation was already collapsing. By the time the cavalry leaped over the low wooden barricades, not a single soldier remained standing to face them. There were only those who had turned their backs and were running away.

"Enemy cavalry. They're retreating."

The enemy light cavalry unit that had charged in hopes of encircling them began to withdraw. If so, there was nothing left to stop them. All that remained was to completely subdue this camp. But the battle was already as good as over. There was no way to stop the knights who had broken into the camp. It would probably be easier to face a herd of enraged elephants.

In less than thirty minutes, the rebel camp was completely subdued.

"Just how many prisoners are there? Sheesh."

The supreme commander let out a deep sigh as he walked past the prisoners kneeling in bonds. There were roughly three thousand of them. The number of enemies killed didn't even reach thirty. In contrast, their own losses were only about ten wounded. Most of those were injuries from falling off their horses. It was a great victory.

The soldiers, basking in the afterglow of victory, raised cheers.

"What's the matter, Commander?"

At that moment, Pelline was staring beyond the barricades, toward Fort 3 several kilometers away. In the distance, she could faintly see the enemy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠light cavalry unit retreating into the fortress.

"Something feels off. It was too easy."

"The opponents were nothing but riffraff who had only just been freed from slavery and picked up spears. It's only natural it was easy."

"No..."

But the movement of that light cavalry group was strange. The way they funneled through the narrow fortress gate couldn't simply be described as orderly. It was as if those thousands of cavalry were a single organism, or like sand being sucked into a hole—moving without the slightest hesitation or gap. Their training level was far from ordinary. Why would they use such elite cavalry as light cavalry instead of heavy...?

"What's wrong?"

"I need to speak with the supreme commander."

Those bastards were up to something. There was no other way to explain it. Pelline spun around—

"......"

She glanced once at the prisoners' eyes before heading toward the supreme commander.

Unlike the media, which was in a constant festive mood, Pelline was voicing concerns. Her insight was truly admirable. In reality, Duke Lorraine was indeed deliberately throwing the fights. Given the rebels' position, they could afford to lose multiple times. The suppression force, however, could not tolerate even a single defeat. It was as if they were deliberately losing in succession as if they had no proper commander, lulling the enemy into complacency, gradually dragging the suppression force into a quagmire, and then crushing them in one final battle. That way, the rebels could still claim victory.

"I need to go."

Pelline, who usually wrote such concise reports, was unusually verbose this time. Everything was filled with worries and concerns. It seemed the suppression force would suffer a major defeat soon, so she had decided she should go after all. It would be enough to run wild for just the one-week break and tilt the war situation in their favor before returning.

"Go where?"

"Ah. I meant the imperial palace."

"......"

Still, she couldn't leave right away. Today, she had to go meet Aria.

When I glanced back, Emilia was adjusting my clothes and had begun tying a necktie around my neck.

"You can check the letter after we get back. Aren't you nervous, brother? You're meeting Her Highness the Imperial Grand Princess."

"You've met her too. She's quite the klutz."

"With just one word from the person you call a klutz, an entire country can appear or disappear..."

It seemed Emilia was still wary of Aria. If she had met her a few times, she would have realized how easy it was to handle that fool. Of course, that only applied when Aria had what she wanted.

"What? Why aren't you wearing your maid uniform?"

Come to think of it, Emilia was wearing the casual clothes I had bought her yesterday. She had said she would wear appropriate attire during work hours, yet here she was, when she used to wear her maid uniform even when going out. It was less embarrassing for me, which was nice, but it felt somehow unfamiliar. Seeing her like this made me feel like I was cohabiting with a younger girlfriend rather than an attendant.

"Hehe. I got tired of it."

"Tired of it...?"

"Shall we head out, then, Mr. Heinkel?"

Emilia flung the door open and completely changed her tone. It was the old, dry Emilia. For me, this was more comfortable, but...

"You can speak casually when there are no people around."

"Got it. Hehe."

As expected, the free-spirited Emilia was much more pleasant to look at.

"Oh, Schluss!"

"Ainz."

While walking across the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grounds, I ran into Ainz. He was carrying a mountain of books. Midterms had only just ended, yet his academic zeal was impressive. Thinking that I had crushed someone like him with tricks and superior ability filled me with tremendous guilt.

"Where are you going?"

"To the imperial palace. Something came up and I need to meet Her Highness the Imperial Grand Princess."

"Aha! So you're finally going to settle that matter?"

"What? What matter?"

"Weren't you going to decide on the wedding date soon..."

"That's not it!"

The moment the words left my lips, Emilia answered loudly from behind in my stead. Ainz looked back and forth between us with wide eyes, startled.

"Ah, um, that is... I'm sorry. For raising my voice..."

"So that's not it. Hahaha. Sorry. I misunderstood."

"I'm glad you understand."

Ainz, scratching his head, didn't look sorry at all for the misunderstanding. If anything, his expression was closer to one that said, Oh, I see how it is.

It made my blood boil, but there was nothing I could do. For now, I'd have to ask Aria to quell the rumors.

"You're carrying a sword now? Does that mean you've become a proper swordsman?"

"I'm still far from it. It's just in case of emergencies."

"But why on the right? Weren't you right-handed?"

"My right hand is reserved for that thing from back then."

"Ah..."

When I opened my right palm, Ainz nodded in understanding. I had expected him to pester me with questions about what that sword of light was, but surprisingly, he let it slide. It must have been the first time he'd seen it, so I thought he'd show interest.

"Then I wish you luck! Hope it goes well!"

"Luck, my ass..."

Ainz teased me until the very end before going on his way. Damn it. From now on, I shouldn't tell anyone I meet on the way that I'm going to the imperial palace.

Thud. Thud.

Regular, heavy footsteps echoed. Soldiers in uniform all stood at attention, saluting in one direction. The legend of the Imperial Army was there.

"Hey. At ease. Aren't you going to inspect me?"

"Y-you may pass as you are, sir."

"Come on. Didn't your superior tell you to do it properly?"

"Ah...! Please turn around and raise your hands above your head!"

Always so sloppy. Sergei clicked his tongue and turned around. The inspection was soon completed, and Sergei was able to enter the military camp. No one stopped him as he headed straight for the corps commander's office.

"The commotion outside... so it was Your Excellency Proist..."

"Damn it! Roman! How long has it been! Come here and give me a hug!"

"......"

Roman responded with a look of utter contempt. A sheepish Sergei closed his outstretched arms, pulled over a chair, and sat down.

"Next time, please at least send word beforehand. The men get startled."

"What's there to get startled about?"

"Can't you see that? From their perspective, it's like a bolt from the blue."

Roman yanked the curtain aside. The soldiers who had been standing stiff as boards earlier were now scrubbing the spotless floor two or three times over.

"Sigh. So what brings you here? You haven't come near anything military-related for years, yet you suddenly show up here of all places. You even skipped the Mage Day event to avoid me."

"......"

Sergei's expression grew serious at the question. It was a well-known fact that after his discharge, Sergei had cut all ties with the Imperial Army. It was a firm declaration of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his resolve to maintain complete political neutrality and exert no indirect influence whatsoever on the Imperial Army. Yet here he was, suddenly visiting the 3rd Corps. Not in secret with a mask on, but openly. There had to be some political reason behind it.

"Schluss Heinkel. You know him, right?"

"I do. Isn't he the one who saved me on Mage Day?"

"That guy is not normal."

"Not normal as in exceptionally talented?"

"It's not just that he's talented. There's something alien about him."

"Hahaha. Like me?"

"......"

Even at Roman's joke, Sergei didn't so much as smile.

"He drew a sword of light from his hand."

"......?"

"It wasn't magic, nor was it a mass of mana. I've never seen anything like it in my life."

"That... isn't it a demonic sword?"

"A demonic sword? No way."

A demonic sword. According to legend, it was a blade that slumbered in one's hand and only awakened by devouring mana energy. It was something that only appeared in children's fairy tales, and whether it even existed was unclear.

"It can't be that. Anyway, in the past, that guy would have kept such a mysterious weapon tightly hidden. But lately, he's been showing off his skills suspiciously often."

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"That bastard will soon become a target for purge. Either by the emperor or by the Ma-in. That's certain. When that time comes, he will definitely ask for your help. Using the debt he owes you."

"Are you telling me not to lend him a hand?"

"The opposite. When that time comes, do not spare any help."

Sergei's words didn't make sense. Hadn't he said it would be a purge by the emperor or the Ma-in? That meant the guy was going to die, yet he was telling him not to spare any help?

"Are you telling me to throw myself into the inferno?"

"Yes. Only by leaping into the inferno can one see certain things."

"Your Excellency Proist..."

"I'm a professor now."

"Professor. You know something, don't you?"

"......"

What a sharp kid. Sergei pressed his lips tightly shut. He couldn't say anything more than that.