Chapter 177: For Victory (4)
A rain of arrows poured down. The demons carrying soil fell into disarray, panicking and scattering, and in that opening, a knight order burst out through the barely opened castle gates on horseback.
Hooves churned the unsettled earth as they charged toward the defenseless demons. Even though their opponents were not fellow humans but demons, they rushed forward fiercely without a moment's hesitation, like unleashed predators eyeing their prey—
Thud. Slash.
They produced results befitting their confidence.
A demon's head rolled across the dirt.
.......
After leaving the Demon Castle, the nightmares had started again. Because of that, my already insufficient sleep had become even more insufficient.
'Maybe that's why I'd even coughed up blood, a rare occurrence.'
The frequency had dropped to the point where you could almost say it didn't happen anymore.
'I tried to get even a little rest, since lack of sleep seemed to be the culprit.'
I leisurely folded the black handkerchief, tucked it into my chest, and raised my head. Deon took in the scene that had turned gruesome in that brief moment, crossed his arms as if dumbfounded, and let out a hollow laugh.
"I take my eyes off them for a moment, and this is what happens. I can't even get proper rest."
"......My apologies."
"What were the sentries doing? The archers taking aim on the walls should have been visible even without focusing intently."
"The sentry fulfilled his duty."
The sentry had faithfully reported that enemies were aiming arrows from atop the wall. The problem was what came after.
After hearing the full account, Deon let out a deep sigh.
"I don't even know where to begin pointing out the mistakes."
He understood that building an earth ramp for the first time meant awkwardness, and he knew that the ones moving to construct it became defenseless, so he accepted a certain level of casualties.
Hell, from the sound of it, the knight order that had sallied out for the ambush seemed to be Stigma Primiro's knights. It wasn't so strange to suffer losses against them, but....
'Still, I told them to station guards around the ramp builders specifically to prepare for ambushes like this.'
There was a mountain of things to criticize, but Deon decided to zero in on the most important one.
"There's no particular need for you to build the earth ramp yourselves."
"Excuse me?"
"We have prisoners."
If the problem was them shooting arrows and raiding to interfere, then they simply had to make it impossible.
Conveniently, we had prisoners captured by the carnivorous plants. They'd been dashing around the forest, so their stamina looked excellent.
How about we make them build the earth ramp?
'Could they really shoot arrows at their own comrades? No, before that, could Tender Amiabl even give the order to kill his own men?'
Deon recalled the Margrave of Amiabl, who had argued fiercely with Stigma during the hunting competition. His defense of the Barbar tribe on the grounds that they were fellow humans had been quite memorable. Could a man like that truly kill people of his own Empire?
'Whether he kills them or not, we have nothing to lose.'
If he killed them, we'd use that. If he didn't, we'd use that too.
'It will take some time for the earth ramp to be completed, but....'
What could he do? No better method came to mind.
Well, fine. He'd lived his whole life hitting limits, so there was nothing new about it. Instead of lamenting the limits of his own brain, Deon simply gave the order.
***
The earth ramp rose before the castle walls.
The ones building it were not demons, unlike before.
"Those are......."
Those who had once been comrades were over there. Someone groaned. The soldiers who had readied their bows, anticipating another attempt to build the ramp, looked up blankly at their commander.
Faced with their desperate gazes, as if seeking an answer, the Margrave of Amiabl gritted his teeth.
'You bastard.'
How could he think of such a thing and put it into practice?
He watched the men being forced to build the earth ramp. He knew they had no choice but to move under a threat to their lives. In a world full of sinners, you could hardly even call it a sin, but....
'They must be killed.'
He could not simply stand by and watch the earth ramp rise. To stop it, there was no other answer. He had a duty to carry out the orders His Majesty had given him.
His hesitation was brief. He was soft, but he was still the Margrave responsible for the border. Suppressing his bleeding heart, he gave the order coldly.
An order to his subordinates to kill those who had once been their comrades.
"Raise your bows."
"......!"
A stir ran through the ranks.
The majority turned to look at the speaker as if shocked, and some looked down below with trembling eyes. A very few hesitantly raised their bows.
Seeing this, Tender Amiabl raised his voice.
"Raise your bows!"
Some of those who had been looking at their commander turned their heads to look below. Seeing their obvious hesitation, his voice continued.
"If we cannot kill them, the demons will eventually cross this wall! Then your spouses, your children, your precious people will be trampled and violated by those bastards!"
One by one, the gazes directed at the commander disappeared. The number of those looking down increased, and more soldiers than before raised their bows.
"If we fall, countless people will die! It is not simply the people of this territory who will die. His Majesty has designated this place as the final gateway to the capital! If the demons cross this point, far more people will die than those you are so reluctant to aim your arrows at!"
Now nearly all of them had raised their bows. The eyes of the soldiers gripping bows and arrows hardened with resolve.
"We must hold out here! We must buy as much time as possible, at the very least! Raise your bows and aim at them. Draw your bowstrings!"
The confusion subsided, replaced by a grim solemnity. The soldiers, steeled in their resolve, nocked arrows and drew their bowstrings. Some still had hands that trembled as they adjusted their aim, but many did not.
The moment arrows were aimed at those who had once been their comrades, a ringing peal of laughter echoed.
Tender Amiabl closed his mouth.
'......There should be a magic suppression array, so magic use near the walls is impossible.'
Was direct use impossible while tools engraved with magic were an exception? That made sense; it explained why communication stones could be used.
Tense gazes turned toward one point.
From the demon camp, a white-haired man was laughing madly, holding a magic stone that seemed to be enchanted with voice amplification magic. Amidst the tension that only grew tauter, he gradually stopped laughing and brought the magic stone close to his lips, his red eyes curving as if he were genuinely delighted beyond reason.
- I knew you'd do that. You hypocrite.
"......."
- They're not even ordinary imperial citizens. Isn't it a bit much to abandon soldiers who fought hard?
How should he describe this feeling? He felt a little disappointed, maybe.
He'd had some small expectations because this was a man who'd raised his voice against Stigma himself, defending other tribes simply because they were fellow humans. But in the end, his choice was to abandon these men.
Of course, rationally speaking, it was the right decision. To keep his cool even in this situation and choose the best option—truly an exemplary commander.
'But will they think so too?'
He glanced sideways at the men forced to build the earth ramp under duress.
Their expressions clearly showed they were in shock. Deon judged instantly. He needed to make the soldiers on that wall empathize with these men.
Before he could even consider what would be best to say, a voice pierced the silence.
- From the moment they started building that ramp, they became traitors.
It wasn't shouted, and the distance was considerable, yet the surroundings were so unnaturally quiet that the words reached Deon clearly.
'Oh dear.'
Wrong move. A corner of his mouth crept up.
'He should have elevated them as dying honorably, not torn them down by calling them traitors.'
Honor—what harm could a little praise for that do?
He just laughed. In truth, he hadn't felt genuinely amused even once so far, but he had to laugh to exert a more effective force.
The mirth-laced voice grabbed the Margrave—who had been a fairly reliable commander—by the scruff of the neck and dragged him to the ground.
- There's no way you don't know they aren't doing this willingly. Not content with trying to kill your own men, now you're dragging their honor through the mud too.
"......!"
Who would risk their lives to fight after this?
One by one, the soldiers on the wall slowly lowered the bows they had been holding. The Margrave of Amiabl, belatedly realizing his mistake, frowned.
'Now, what will you do?'
Given his temperament, could he make an example of someone by executing them for insubordination? Even if he could, he couldn't behead everyone, so acting so oppressively wouldn't be good in the long run.
With an interested heart, Deon observed the actions that would follow.
.......
Ridiculously, the rift was enough to bring down a fortress.
In black-and-white terms, Tender Amiabl belonged to the good category of humans. As a person, this was a virtue, but as a commander, it could be seen as closer to a flaw.
Even he himself was reluctant to aim arrows at his subordinates, so what could he do when the soldiers under his command also showed reluctance and unwillingness to obey?
'Still, for a soft commander, he was surprisingly refreshing.'
Tender Amiabl did not simply crumble impotently, unable to do this or that.
He changed his strategy. Instead of trying to prevent the earth ramp from being built at all, he watched it rise and then, when it was nearly complete, connected pre-prepared wooden planks to the ramp and launched a counter-attack over it.
When the ramp was just a little short of completion and a massive thud! sounded as soldiers surged over into our camp, I was honestly shocked.
When I saw the Primiro Knight Order leading the charge, breaking through the demons, I thought I was dreaming.
'We really almost got turned on our heads.'
Because of the prisoners, we couldn't mount an aggressive resistance, so their passive movements had been taken for granted. Besides, who would have guessed they were preparing planks behind the invisible walls?
When the earth ramp neared completion, troops had gathered on the wall nearby, but most kept low, out of our sight. Those who didn't seemed merely to be preparing to defend against or check the demons who would soon push in, so I hadn't paid them much mind.
'If they hadn't gathered troops and had kept things as usual, I might have been more suspicious.'
Cleverly increasing the reserve troops just enough to show them.
If it had been a fight between humans, no—if the 0th Legion simply hadn't been here, we would definitely have been had.
At the very least, even if the laborers had been soldiers rather than prisoners, we would certainly have been had. It would have been an ambush against soldiers in a weakened state, after all.
Therefore, I pay my respects to you. True to your resolve to buy time if you could not stop us, I was held up here for a considerable while.
'I also know now what you were trying to buy time for.'
When I entered the castle, there were no civilians at all, only soldiers. It must have been to buy time for them to evacuate to other territories.
Deon, who hadn't even been able to close his eyes, stood silently, looking down at the dead Margrave's corpse still clutching his sword, as if etching the sight into his memory. Then he raised his head and stepped away.
With every step he took, his foot bumped against someone's corpse.
'The Primiro Knight Order... well, senior will understand.'
It was time to move again.
***
"Is the food not to your liking?"
At the low voice, the Emperor, who had been staring quietly down at the meat on his plate, lifted his head. His eyes met the Crown Prince's worried gaze.
"I have no appetite. Didn't I tell you to just eat with Alethea alone?"
He set down the utensils he had been holding onto the table. The Crown Prince's eyes followed his gesture, moving to the untouched meat.
The Princess, who had been cutting her meat across from the Crown Prince, also slid her eyes sideways to glance at the Emperor's plate, her expression worried. But sensing the Emperor's mood—his desire to brush it off as nothing—she pretended not to notice and fixed her gaze back on her own plate.
However, the Crown Prince did not let it go. A stiff, hardened voice filled the spacious room where only the three of them were present.
"......I have heard that you have not been eating well lately."
"......."
"That you are practically starving yourself."
The question bordered on an interrogation, but the Emperor did not get angry.
Knowing that this was ultimately an act born of concern for him, he simply thought it was fortunate he had dismissed all the servants. Feigning nonchalance, he lowered his eyes languidly.
Usually, when he did this, even someone acting firm would eventually shake their head as if they couldn't win and let it go. But this time was different.
"Could it be.... that the illusions have worsened?"
At the unhesitating remark and its heavy content, the Princess flinched and looked up. The knife meant for cutting meat scraped against her plate, producing an uncomfortable noise.
Realizing there was no avoiding this, the Emperor slowly parted his lips.
"......That can't be."
The black specters that had been clouding his vision had actually improved. Instead—
The Emperor briefly glanced downward.
"It's just...."
"......."
"The smell of blood lingers at the tip of my nose, so I have no appetite. That is all."