The Capital's Last Escape Train
“……”
“……”
The atmosphere shifted in an instant the moment the 7th Knight Division made their direct appearance.
What had been mere tension, like a bowstring drawn taut, now brimmed with the edge of an arrow about to fly.
Even the captain of the 1st Knight Division, who had been opening his mouth as if to voice some objection to me just moments ago, now fixed his gaze on the 7th Knight Division.
I, too, quietly watched the division's captain and vice-captain.
Of course, I knew full well that this speech-like proclamation was nothing more than a temporary painkiller. I had to make the limits clear.
There were commanders whose identity lay more with the North than the Empire, so royalists existed among them too. No, more than half had come from the central army, so their numbers were undoubtedly far greater.
In short, it was a situation where an ideological bloodbath could erupt at any moment without surprise.
Of course, for this moment at least, my lip service and momentum seemed to have wrapped it up...
“A most rational decision, Your Grace.”
A low, dry voice drifted from the corner.
“The 7th Knight Division captain's loyalty is exemplary. No, the entire North should follow suit. Not just exemplary, but do it. However, regrettably, one question lingers for me.”
All eyes turned there at once. It was the young nobleman around my age who had been leaning against the wall, stroking his chin, ever since the meeting began.
He hadn't groaned or shown any expression even upon hearing that the capital had fallen.
“Logistics Chief, speak.”
“Forced territorial annexation—very well. With the North's military might, seizing the leashes of nearby lords is child's play. And you have ample manpower. But have you considered the possibility of civil war breaking out with the surviving warlords in the south or center because of it?”
“Civil war.”
“Moreover, Her Highness the 3rd Princess is fleeing here. Attempting territorial annexation in this situation could be seen as the North's harsh arbitrariness. No matter how much it's for the North's survival.”
A perfectly valid point.
In this medieval fantasy—though with steam locomotives and an established military system, a romance-fantasy medieval era nonetheless—what mattered most was legitimacy.
The sacred imperial family and its doctrines were the perfect spiritual pillar for the empire's people.
Why? Because the heroine was the 3rd Princess from the start.
But honestly, I didn't like that.
The fact that the North was still shackled to it even after the imperial family had been obliterated.
That's why, in my proclamations so far, I'd emphasized unity around Northern identity, but dramatic change doesn't happen overnight.
I deliberately let the silence drag, drawing the commanders' eyes, before answering.
“I omitted protection.”
“Protection, you say?”
“The capital has fallen in an unprecedented catastrophe. We can't assert with certainty that lords won't commit heresy amid this chaos.”
The capital destroyed by Apostles of the Evil God and devils—heresy? What the fuck does that even matter now.
But it was important. Because that was legitimacy.
“If the North starves and collapses, we can no longer protect the Empire and its people. Thus, we've made the decision for the nation's salvation. The North will temporarily annex and control neighboring territories. All for the Empire.”
“For the Empire, you say.”
“Yes. If the Empire's shield protecting the Empire is treason, then the North was fated for it from the start. Then let me ask: are you all rebels?”
No.
You're not rebels, that's why you're in this confusion.
The Logistics Chief fell silent at my declaration. More precisely, he couldn't continue. His hand, stroking his chin, rose to cover his mouth with a faint smile.
I turned my head, scanning each commander one by one. Especially the Total Commander, who had probed me for treasonous intent at the first emergency meeting.
No one stepped forward anymore. Neither the Total Commander nor the Knight Commander. The 1st Knight Division captain just stared at me with wide eyes.
“I am in awe of Your Grace's perfect grand principle.”
Instead, it was the Logistics Chief's admiration that broke the silence.
“Then, what do you plan to do first, taking the 7th Knight Division as your direct special forces?”
Not entirely pure admiration, though. I glanced alternately at the 7th Knight Division captain and vice-captain in response to his follow-up question.
“Escort Her Highness the 3rd Princess.”
The Logistics Chief swallowed a hollow laugh and clicked his tongue.
No matter how much I wanted to tell legitimacy to fuck off, my intentions and political decisions were, naturally, vastly different.
There's a reason for the saying "挟天子以令諸侯"—using the Son of Heaven to command the vassals.
After the meeting, the 7th Knight Division was promptly reorganized as my direct special forces unit, per orders. The southwest outpost wasn't a strategic hub. The reason for attaching the 7th was for capturing drakes.
With every soldier being a mighty knight-level elite, other forces could easily hold the southwest outpost.
Three days later, amid the white snowflakes fluttering over Ron Manir, white uniforms stood in formation before my eyes.
Centered on the elderly captain and his pristine vice-captain.
“……”
Surpassing the North, one of the Empire's strongest knight divisions. The 7th Knight Division under the Northern Frontline.
The lack of grandiose epithets was a trait unique to the Northern Army. My father had standardized the military structure that way over a decade ago.
From then on, Northern knights were classified not by individual knight orders but as one Northern Army.
They had perhaps already undergone one massive reform firsthand. Transforming from the proud Silver Dawn Knight Division into a simple military unit at the forefront.
That shocking reorganization had been much discussed even in the capital, but what did it matter now.
“Your Grace... Forgive me, but is it truly true that Her Highness the 3rd Princess is seeking refuge here? The stationmaster hasn't heard a thing.”
Ron Manir was a not-insubstantial city with a railway station adjacent to the North. Over 70% of the capital's supplies had passed through here.
Precisely, had passed through.
Geographically, the North's harsh borders softened here bit by bit.
As if to prove it, the air was brisk, and the thin soot on every house would squeak clean with a light wipe.
When the fierce summer sun rose, the snow piled on every roof would melt away in a flash.
Most importantly, Ron Manir would emerge as one of the North's key strategic hubs now that the capital had fallen.
“Wait.”
“Y-yes... Understood. My apologies.”
At my words, Ron Manir's lord clamped his mouth shut as if gagged. Then he just blankly watched the 7th Knight Division and the other knight divisions.
At the same time, immediate Northern commands were being issued to nearby territories en masse.
This place was no exception. Under the banner of imperial protection, Ron Manir's private forces were forming blockades with the knight divisions.
“...Your Grace, if I may ask, did the courier who disembarked from the last train and rode straight to the Northern Frontline relay that message?”
“Yes.”
“Then... the capital's fall...”
The lord, gazing at the knight divisions, paled in horror.
“Y-Your Grace.”
He soon looked up at me desperately, clutching his shiny bald head.
His corpulent frame seemed somehow greedy, but his eyes were not.
“N-no matter what, Ron Manir pledges loyalty to the North. Just give the order. We'll cooperate with any words—no, offer even greater loyalty!”
I stood calmly, as if unmoved.
The bond between Ron Manir and the North had always been special. The lack of corruption in supply procurement was proof enough.
“My predecessor always praised you without stint. No need to prove your resolve.”
“N-no, not at all! You're too kind, Your Grace.”
He bashfully lowered his eyes and smoothed his hair.
This is just my personal take, but damn, it's shiny.
Pretending the Northern Grand Duke isn't full of shit, handling 70% of the North's supplies was no small feat either. It meant absolute control over massive fund flows with perfect administration.
And something even more important was about to unfold right before my eyes.
'The 3rd Princess.'
From my hazy memories, she was always in the absolute position of power. Whether the male lead or sub-males, they groveled before her.
And I was one of them.
If things had gone by the original plot, my father would have died sooner. I'd have become Northern Grand Duke earlier.
Following the typical Northern Grand Duke archetype.
Cold and consistently emotionless, but turning into a hopeless fool before the heroine. Sub-male? No, main male lead?
Fuck, thinking about it gives me chills.
“Your Highness.”
As useless thoughts swirled, the 7th Knight Division captain murmured softly.
“...A locomotive.”
I, the lord, and the soldiers all stopped what we were doing and looked there. Beyond the tracks. Something pitch-black, small as a bug at first, growing larger.
The attention wasn't just due to it being the capital's final train symbolically.
Kiiiiiiiiiiieek———! The metallic screech echoed across the land.
“Wh-what in the world...”
The lord let out a groan-like gasp. At the same time, the locomotive lurched perilously into the station. Kagagagak——! Grotesque roars pounded like hammer blows.
Finally halted, its form was filthy beyond words.
Not figuratively—literally unclean.
I stepped forward a pace.
The locomotive's black armor was splattered with blood everywhere. Purple flesh—like devil meat—clung in places, while others were riddled with jagged holes.
The last train to escape the capital; its harrowing journey painted itself in my mind without need for imagination.
I turned to the passenger car.
A young-looking female assistant conductor rushed out, shouting desperately.
“S-someone, help! People are hurt, hu-hurt...!”
Beyond her, in a seat, a bleeding man in a white shirt and black cap. The conductor.
At my gesture, knights and soldiers hurried over.
Instead, I looked to the side. Right by the passenger car door. It burst open roughly as a man shouted.
“P-Princess! We've arrived!”
Descending from the locomotive, escorted by another woman behind him, was a woman in an elegant dress, radiant with golden hair.
Pure white skin, flaxen locks fluttering like gilded gold.
As noble gossip had it, a beauty to topple nations, like a jewel fallen from the heavens. Yet she looked utterly pitiable.
Our eyes met.
“Ah, Rahaspel Grand Duke.”
Full name: Letitia Lezevina Darnila.
“Long time no see... or is it? Anyway, nice to see you. I could really use a wash. It was such a rough trip.”
This woman, speaking casually as if my greeting attendance was a given, was the 3rd Princess.