The Second-Best Strategist
Even if I couldn't tell what emotion lay behind that question, it still wasn't a pleasant one.
Second-Best Strategist. The title sounded impressive enough, but in truth it was painfully shabby.
The truth was, I wasn't some brilliant tactician. I was simply more cowardly and more afraid than my companions. Most of the actual strategy and tactics had always been handled by Medrup and Orcan; I merely added a few suggestions here and there.
They almost always offered only the best possible path. Every hostage had to be rescued, civilians must never be harmed, mercy must come before punishment or revenge, and everything had to remain just.
It was the right and beautiful path, and they succeeded in walking it most of the time. But there were moments when even they found the ideal course too dangerous or impossible to carry out.
And that was when I would suggest a far more realistic, far easier route—one that carried less risk, yet was far less beautiful.
I proposed paths they could never accept. Paths they could never even imagine, let alone speak aloud.
Because they were too brilliant, too noble, they had never even known such options existed. So I showed them.
I never asked them to follow my words. There was no need. Simply knowing those paths existed was enough; they would always find a middle road—neither the impossible best nor my ugly alternative.
That was why I was given the title Second-Best Strategist.
Medrup had bestowed it upon me as encouragement after seeing through my intentions, but Orcan always used it with a hint of mockery. Rowell and Lauti often spoke it like a rebuke.
“The best is always left to Rowell and Medrup, after all.”
“So it seems.”
A thin, mocking smile curved the man's lips. Without thinking, I recalled several spells, but this wasn't the time. Not yet.
“Beres. Stop bothering Anak with pointless questions.”
“Yes, Captain.”
After an awkward stretch of silence, we mounted our horses once more. It would take another full day to reach the nearest city, but if we were lucky we could reach the Ropa Plain by nightfall.
A small, ancient temple stood on the plain, dedicated to Tpeatin, god of medicine and travelers. According to its teachings, it offered comfortable lodging to any traveler. If fortune favored us and no other travelers were there, we wouldn't need to camp tonight.
“Come to think of it, you stayed at a Tpeatin temple last night as well. Were there no other travelers?”
“None until we left.”
“I suppose it's been so long that sleeping outdoors feels uncomfortable now?”
“Henry, that's enough.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Beres had been the same earlier. Away from Rowell, their respect and courtesy were fading fast. Even the captain, who still maintained a polite tone, only offered half-hearted warnings.
This was why I disliked knights. They were neither pure nor noble, yet they couldn't even hide their true feelings.
They couldn't see their own ugliness, and even if they did, they wouldn't recognize it as such. They simply mistook the shine of their armor for their own light.
“I prefer having walls and a ceiling whenever possible.”
I smiled—the small, slightly servile, self-deprecating smile that was nothing like the bright ones Rowell or Aegina wore.
I was different. I knew the light draped over me wasn't mine. I knew my own ugliness well. And because of that, I was skilled at hiding my true thoughts and my own filth.
“Besides, I hate bugs.”
“I see.”
A few of them openly snickered in the distance, making no effort to hide their amusement. I wondered if they would still be laughing about bugs after facing the insect legion that once covered Anubkut's lands—Anubkut, one of the Demon King's commanders—for two full days and nights.
Yeah. Bugs. Showing them once wouldn't be so bad.
“Welcome, Lord Anak. And the Alto Knights.”
“May you rest peacefully in Tpeatin's embrace.”
We arrived at the Tpeatin temple just as darkness fell and the first stars began to appear. An elderly priest and a young boy in apprentice robes greeted us—both people I knew well.
“It's been a long time, Priest Philip. You too, Austin.”
“It's good to see you again, Lord Anak.”
“It's been a while, Brother Anak. Is Brother Rowell doing well?”
Back when Rowell and I first began our journey—before he became the Hero and I became his companion—Priest Philip had helped us greatly.
He shared local news gathered from other travelers, offered advice for the road, and even provided useful supplies. It was Priest Philip who had sent us to Kasin Village, the place where Rowell's name as the Hero first resounded.
If we had followed Rowell's original plan and headed straight for the front lines to join the defense forces, we would likely have died as nothing more than ordinary guards or infantrymen, holding the line against the Demon King's army.
Faced with an enemy that held overwhelming superiority and was conquering region after region, the army's only option had been defense.
The front lines themselves were far too precarious to risk moving troops for an assault on the Demon King. Even if a detachment had been sent, it would have been surrounded and annihilated.
And if every defensive line had been abandoned—effectively sacrificing most of the world's population—to gather every soldier for an all-out attack, the force wouldn't have crossed even a few borders before destroying itself.
There simply weren't enough supplies. Unlike defensive battles, offensive campaigns demanded far more logistics than combat itself. The larger the force, the more supplies it required, which slowed its advance. The slower the advance, the more supplies it needed.
The required logistics doubled. In an ordinary campaign, local procurement or looting enemy supplies might have covered some of the shortfall, but that wasn't an option here.
Even if supplies had been plentiful and transport unhindered, the only result would have been forcing the scattered Demon King's forces to regroup. And as I said, their numbers had been overwhelming.
Paradoxically, the reason the defensive lines could be maintained at all was because the Demon King's army had conquered so much territory. Managing and defending those lands had forced them to spread thin, reducing the troops available at the front.
Moreover, the Demon King's goal had never been world conquest; it was only to buy time until Nix's arrival. After seizing most of the world, he had no reason to exert himself against an enemy that could never mount a counterattack.
An army could never win.
Priest Philip had taught us that. If we truly wished to save the world, we needed something other than soldiers. And so the legend of the Hero Rowell began.
“Then, Priest, we'll be in your care again tonight.”
“Of course. I already have everything prepared. Austin, take the horses to the stable and water them.”
“Understood.”
Priest Philip assigned me a small private room and gave the knights a larger one they could share. The temple was modest; aside from the rooms belonging to Philip and Austin, only these two were available for travelers.
“Rest well, Lord Anak.”
“Yes. I'll see you tomorrow.”
The room contained only a bed and a small desk, yet it was spotless, and the bed linens held not a single wrinkle. As expected of a temple dedicated to Tpeatin. It was better than most high-class inns.
“Ten days at most, I suppose.”
I suspected it would be shorter, but if things continued like this, it would be difficult to endure. After setting my belongings on the floor, I sat on the edge of the bed. I wasn't particularly tired, but I needed to think about my limited patience and the current situation.
I took out the invitation I had kept in my coat and unfolded it.
“This is something I have to deal with, but……”
My titles and name were written clearly upon it. And one line added before the signature.
“I hope I'm not misunderstanding this.”
Strictly speaking, that possibility wasn't zero.
“Either way, I need to arrive before I can confirm anything.”
With a short incantation, the invitation burst into flames in my hand and vanished. It felt a little wasteful to burn a document that so carefully listed achievements most people didn't know about, but I doubted I could endure this irritation otherwise.
“I should prepare for every possibility first.”
I locked the door and took out a crystal. Rowell had packed many things into my bag, but what I truly needed for proper preparation was elsewhere.
“…What? Are you trying to show off how many other things you've obtained?”
“……?”
I didn't understand her sudden words the moment I entered, but then I noticed my current attire.
“Ah, these clothes? No, that's not it. Something came up that I need to handle.”
“Hmm. I see.”
She answered curtly and turned away.
“……?”
Honestly, her attitude caught me off guard. It had been one thing when she stood against us as the Flame Demon Commander, but in all the years since I had taken this pocket dimension, I had never seen her act like this.
“Um, Lady Rofena?”
“What?”
She didn't even look back.
“Don't tell me you're still angry about this morning? I hope not, but……”
“This morning? I don't know what you're talking about.”
She was definitely angry.
“…….”
I couldn't understand it. She had been the one to start it, and with the clear intent to torment me. She must have known I would respond the way I did.
Besides, far worse things had happened between us—both before and after she was imprisoned.
“Lady Rofena?”
“…….”
Now she wasn't answering at all.
“Haah……”
We weren't friends to begin with. We had fought to the death as enemies, and right now she was effectively my prisoner. There was no reason for us to act friendly; if anything, outright hostility would have been normal. But still.
“…Understood. I'm sorry.”
I didn't know why, but it felt like I had to say it.
“…Sorry for what?”
She still had her back to me, but she turned her head slightly.
“I went too far. There was no need to frighten you like that.”
“Again.”
“Again?”
Again? What else was I supposed to apologize for? It didn't even feel like something that required an apology in the first place.
“You got angry at me.”
“……?”
What was she talking about? Who had deliberately driven the other person into a miserable state? And yet she wanted an apology for getting angry? It made no sense.
“…….”
I simply stared at her blankly for a moment. I wondered if this was another one of her games meant to toy with me, but it didn't feel that way. Then she suddenly turned around.
“…You were really angry.”
Her voice had dropped, and it trembled slightly.
“Even if it was only for a moment, you were really going to use those spells.”