The Lunarien Army Vanishes from the World
Before the gates of Zeiland Castle, Gustav, captain of the Raven Mercenary Group, and Aaron, captain of the Chilein Mercenary Group, stood before Luna to exchange their final farewells.
"Then I leave our soldiers in your capable hands."
At Luna's words, Gustav bowed his head.
"You needn't speak so formally to us."
"I'm not a feudal lord anymore — at least for a while."
Gustav's expression turned bitter at that, but he soon spoke with earnest gravity.
"The day Lady Lunarien steps back onto the stage of history, we will come to your aid without fail."
"Please stay well until that day."
Aaron bowed as well, offering his respects.
"Then."
"We shall meet again, Lady Lunarien."
With that, the two captains took their respective forces and went their separate ways.
Into the ranks of the mercenary companies had been folded roughly seventy percent of the Lunarien Army's original soldiers, divided evenly between the two groups. Those who wished to leave military service had been allowed to remain as ordinary subjects of the territory; the rest were men who simply wanted to keep earning their living as soldiers, and so would likely adapt well enough under the mercenary banners.
What remained now was approximately three thousand men — the number who would accompany Luna all the way to the southern reaches of the continent. Food stores, marching speed, and every other practical concern had been weighed carefully; taking any more would have slowed them to a crawl.
As she watched the captains depart, Luna found herself thinking. They had trained under Tifa — they would serve well enough as soldiers, at least to a degree.
For some reason, Swen's voice rose unbidden in her mind: the way he had spoken to her, almost offhandedly, while watching the men drill in the barracks.
Lord Swen…
If you place your trust in me, then in return I will place the world in your hands.
Could she truly raise a nation again? Survive long enough to put down roots in some new domain?
She closed her eyes for a moment and resolved never to entertain such doubts again.
I can do this. Of everyone in this world, I at least will believe Swen's words without question. Lord Swen said so — therefore I can.
"My lord. Preparations for departure are complete."
"Ah…"
Kane's voice cut through her thoughts, urging her onward.
Two generals and three thousand soldiers. The same strength their force had held before Swen ever arrived — was that mere coincidence?
Then Tifa scratched her head and muttered,
"Ugh, this really bothers me."
"What is it?"
Tifa dipped her head at Luna's question, then clicked her tongue.
"…Is this really the best we can do? Leaving a scrawny guy like Swen alone in the castle — is that actually the right call? Aren't we just abandoning him? I hate that kind of thing."
Apparently Tifa saw the whole arrangement as a cowardly act of self-preservation.
Luna shook her head.
"No, Tifa. Lord Swen told us this was the answer. I trust him. No matter what happens."
Tifa looked at her. Those red eyes were shining, full to the brim with faith and trust.
"Yeah, well. I'm just an uneducated brute, so honestly I barely understood half of what he said — but the kid's been right about everything so far, hasn't he? Guess we've got to trust him like you say. If we won't believe the guy who keeps begging us to trust him, who will?"
"Indeed, Lady Tifa. Lord Swen possesses extraordinary talent. He said there would be an opportunity — therefore an opportunity will come."
Hearing Kane, Tifa nodded.
The overwhelming trust of three people. As far as Luna was concerned, that was the only way they could repay Swen.
Yes. Then they had to escape this place as quickly as possible. That was how she would answer the faith of the man who had promised her the world.
Luna mounted her horse, drew herself up straight before the three thousand soldiers, and spoke.
"Everyone, listen well!"
In that moment, every soldier present had eyes only for Lunarien's lips.
"From this moment on, we head south. We may end up serving under another feudal lord. You are free to leave us along the way. Or, once we settle in a new territory, you may remain there if you wish. However."
There was a persuasive force in her voice — a natural bearing that drew people after her. For all her small frame and somewhat gentle nature… she wore the unmistakable face of a leader.
"If you follow me to the very end… then for the rest of my life, I will take responsibility for the lives of those who stayed. Just as you have believed in me, I will never abandon you halfway. I will not use you as disposable chess pieces to be spent and discarded. That is my promise to you!"
Wooooooo!!!
The soldiers' roar rose as if to pierce the sky. On the eve of so long a journey, it was as fine a way to raise morale as any.
"Mount up, all of you! We depart at once!"
And so — with Tifa, Kane, and three thousand soldiers at her side — Luna left Zeiland Castle, the first home she had ever known, behind her.
For a time, she would also be parting from her first strategist.
Even so — she never doubted that he would return to her side.
Lord Swen. I will rise again… I swear it. We will meet again.
Lunarien, sovereign of the Lunarien Army, thus withdrew her presence from history — if only for a while.
Near the worn seat prepared for the sovereign, against one of the pillars of the royal hall, I sat leaning casually.
More precisely — I was bound to the pillar beside the seat, both hands tied.
On the surface, it needed to look as though Lunarien had abandoned me. I would be entering the Brans Army soon enough, and with no troops, no gold, and a castle in this condition, that story made for a convenient excuse when explaining how I came to surrender.
The soldier who had bound me, and who had then stayed to the last to carry out my remaining instructions, now knelt on one knee before me and delivered his report.
To any third party, the scene would have looked thoroughly bizarre. I couldn't help a small snort of laughter.
"Lord Swen. As ordered, I have raised the white flag over the castle."
A white banner on the walls meant surrender. Hung where it was most visible, it would keep them from launching any pointless assault. Doing so would only cost them the goodwill of the local people.
"Well done."
"And… here."
The soldier held out a neatly folded banner. When I unfurled it, I found the bright pale-green flag that had once symbolized the Lunarien Army — the one that had flown before the white flag went up.
"What should I do with this?"
"…"
For a moment I considered keeping it myself. But a surrendering officer privately hoarding the banner of a defeated nation? That would hardly make a good impression on a new lord.
"Dispose of it as you see fit."
For the time being, the flag held no great meaning anyway.
"Yes, sir! Though… throwing it away feels wrong. If you don't mind, I'll keep it myself."
So saying, the soldier carefully gathered up the worn banner.
"Any further orders, my lord?"
"No. You're a free man now — go wherever your feet take you. Thank you for everything you've done for our army."
"Think nothing of it. It was only my duty."
I studied his face as he spoke, and something clicked into place with fresh clarity.
This soldier — he was the messenger who had always come running to the sovereign the moment war broke out. Looking at him now, I felt the full weight of the fact that even messengers were not system functions, but living people.
I put a question to him.
"Come to think of it — you didn't go with the mercenary companies, or with Lady Luna?"
"No, sir. This is my hometown. My parents' and grandparents' graves are all here, and my family still lives here. Dragging them around as wanderers would be… a bit much."
"So you'll stay?"
"That's right. Though I'll be taking the armor off."
The former messenger gave a wry smile.
"If I keep wearing this, I'll end up working for those Brans bastards, won't I? So I'm done with soldiering. Back to farming. If they try to conscript me again, I'll just cut off a finger or something."
"I'd rather you didn't do anything of the sort."
"Just a joke. Haha."
He removed his helmet as he spoke.
"I'm… an uneducated man. Never set foot in an academy — never even got the basic schooling that comes before it. Just a farmer. So I don't know much. But I believe without a shred of doubt that the one who should unify this world is a sovereign like Lady Lunarien. She spent a fortune without hesitation to relieve her people, and she never even forced conscription the way every other ruler does as a matter of course."
"…"
"So… I trust the choices of Lady Luna, Lord Swen, and the generals. I am certain Lady Lunarien will raise her banner again. Until then, I mean to live doing what I can."
I looked at his face. Both eyes were remarkably clear.
He was an extra. Not leadership material — not even a C-rank officer. Just a single unit of the number that fills when you press the conscription button.
And that single unit was shaking my chest with fierce intensity.
The soldier rose slowly from his kneel, then bowed at a full ninety degrees toward me where I sat bound.
"So please stay well until then, Lord Swen. I will wait for the day we serve Lady Luna together again. Farewell."
"Wait."
I stopped him as he turned to leave.
"May I know your name?"
"Mine, sir? It's James. No family name — I'm a commoner."
A name so ordinary it nearly shattered the sense of the worldbuilding — the perfect extra's name. And yet this soldier's — this man James's — universe was still burning brilliantly bright.
"Survive, James. Please."
James smiled at my words, then left the royal hall.
Now only I remained. Not a single guard left to watch the walls — only me, alone in this place.
Lunarien Iniang.
One of the countless minor sovereigns of the central extras — a small, weak nation that barely registered. She had a restoration concept, yes, but it required a long stretch of time, and among players she was the sort of lord you never bothered with unless you were deliberately doing a concept run. Not even one of the meme hardcore-concept characters that circulated among the community — just another faceless leader from the ABC pile.
And yet here was someone who wanted her to take the world.
And my prediction still insisted: she will be the unifying sovereign.
I pictured her face. Those ruby-bright eyes I had seen when we danced…
We will meet again. Without fail.
What mattered to me now was surviving this age of chaos without making too many enemies. To return to my original world, I had to be under Lunarien — the unifier. Until that day, I had no idea what would come — but a death swept away by the torrent of history was one ending I would avoid. Absolutely.
My Intelligence of 100 would serve as my compass.
Now it was time to wait.
Like it or not, I had to move forward — to greet the one who would become my new master.
The one leading the great host of some eighty-one thousand was Lin Brans herself.
It was rare for her to take the field in person. For a ruler to ride out across the battlefield was seldom a wise decision unless she was a combat-type sovereign. But she could not wait a moment longer. She was about to devour prey that looked almost too delicious to resist — sitting idle on her seat at Anel Castle had become unbearable.
At the vanguard of this force stood Chel and Irene.
Originally Lin had intended to appoint only Chel to the van, but Parfalle — restored to her duties as strategist — had sent word to her lord again and again.
"Employ General Irene with care. She will be of great use. At the very least, place her at the vanguard alongside Lord Chel. She is not someone who should be left merely guarding the walls of safe Anel Castle."
In truth, Parfalle had urged Irene's use in much the same way many times before —
But I just don't like her. What am I supposed to do about that?
She was only a general who happened to be good at sieges. It wasn't as though the Brans Army would stop functioning without her. And for all her reputation, the fact remained that she had failed to take even Zeiland Castle.
Still… refusing to use someone just because of one failure would be a rather poor attitude for a ruler.
Thinking as much, she had summoned Irene again.
Whether that judgment was right or wrong — for the Brans Army, it carried the weight of absolute will. For the sovereign of the Brans Army was none other than her.
Just then —
"My lord!"
A soldier came galloping from the distance on horseback.
"What is it?"
Had the Lunarien Army prepared something else? With that man Swen among them, she asked with a flicker of anticipation about what they might have readied against a host of this size.
"On the outskirts of Zeiland Castle… a white flag has been raised."
"Hm?"
Lin knew perfectly well what a white flag meant.
Surrender.
And for the Lunarien Army — which possessed only a single territory — to raise that banner meant one thing:
The destruction of the Lunarien Army.