Battle in the North (1)
We left Kelstein Castle and rode north.
The fortress was not far.
It looked solid enough, as if construction had only just finished—yet I found myself facing a more fundamental question.
Why build a fortress out here of all places?
No matter how I turned it over, the site held almost no strategic value. The surrounding land was empty plain as far as the eye could see.
Granted, it could serve as a forward base. Kelstein Castle and Cherien Castle—Serpina’s southernmost stronghold—lay a fair distance apart. Even so, pouring time and resources into a full fortress seemed wasteful. A simpler camp or watchtower would have done the job just as well.
A fortress, once lost, becomes the enemy’s overnight. And from Serpina’s perspective, capturing this place would be extremely useful. Considering the gold, labor, and time required to build it, the Brans Army risked cooking a meal only to hand it to the dogs.
Well, they must have their reasons.
Thinking back to the game, the AI lords had never been particularly strategic about construction. They simply dropped fortresses and towers into any empty space that allowed it. There was no need to overthink it.
Once inside, we had little trouble meeting the officer in charge—Kalintz Brans, younger brother of the Brans Army’s lord, Lin Brans.
A handsome young man with blue hair and a bright, open face. Beside him stood a middle-aged man with brown hair I did not recognize.
“I am Airen. By my lord’s command I have brought ten thousand soldiers and have just arrived.”
Airen bowed lightly. Kalintz received her with genuine warmth.
“Ah, General Airen. You’ve arrived. Faster than I expected. And these others…?”
His gaze moved past her to the rest of us.
“Jack of the Brans Army.”
“Cyllen of the Brans Army.”
“Swen of the Brans Army.”
Kalintz returned the greetings, then lingered on my face for a long moment.
“Hmm… Have we met somewhere before?”
We had. Kalintz had been the first enemy commander I encountered after arriving in this world. Without the mercenary band’s help, he would already have taken Jeiland Castle from me.
But—
“I have a rather ordinary face, General. You may simply be mistaken.”
“Is that so? Hmm… I wouldn’t call it ordinary, but I don’t have any real certainty either.”
Somehow I slipped past it. There was no need to shout that I had once belonged to the Lunarien Army. Lin might hear of it later, but there was no reason to advertise it now.
“Very well. Ten thousand… What of the castle’s garrison?”
“We brought only the additional troops our lord dispatched. No garrison soldiers.”
“Really? That Rasion bastard… What is he hesitating for? How often does a chance like this come around!”
Kalintz slammed his fist lightly on the desk in irritation. The sharp crack filled the room.
“Anyway… ten thousand? Lin—no, our lord—sent ten thousand men to Kelstein Castle?”
“Yes.”
“The timing is welcome, but if she had sent more we could have seized a clear advantage. A pity.”
Kalintz Brans had skipped the regular council meetings to oversee construction of this fortress. Only the final decisions from those meetings reached him, not the debates themselves. Unlike Rasion, who had personally watched my one-on-one discussion with Parfalle, Kalintz knew nothing of that exchange. Of course he would think of it merely as “good timing.”
Airen spoke carefully.
“Lord Kalintz… when you say we could have seized the advantage…?”
“Ah. We intend to gather these forces at once and strike Cherien Castle, which Ian’s newly raised army now holds.”
“……!”
What?
The fortress currently held twenty-eight thousand. Adding our ten thousand made thirty-eight thousand. Recent intelligence put the enemy at forty thousand, and the number might already have grown. Even if we took every man, victory would be difficult—and we would still have to leave at least three thousand behind to hold the fortress against the unexpected.
Even in a game that treated strategy with little realism and let S-class generals carve through armies, a proper siege usually required around seventy thousand before the odds looked favorable…
Ah.
Suddenly I understood Kalintz’s calculation. He was aiming for the chaos that always followed a fresh rebellion.
“Lord Kalintz… has our lord given her approval?”
The middle-aged man beside him asked. Kalintz answered as if the question itself were absurd.
“I, along with my elder brother, have been granted authority within the Brans Army to conduct operations independently without consulting our lord.”
“Even so, when deploying forces on this scale—”
“And this is the moment for a surprise attack. If we wait for reports and replies, the opportunity will vanish. Will you take responsibility then?”
Cut off mid-sentence, the man could only look apologetic.
“…No. Forgive me.”
Kalintz clapped him on the shoulder.
“I appreciate the concern. But trust me. I have a plan.”
Airen raised her hand carefully.
“General Kalintz. No matter how I look at it, advancing now seems reckless.”
“Oh? Why?”
She explained with every courtesy she could muster.
“In a siege, the attacking force must outnumber the defenders. Taking a castle with fewer troops than those holding it is considered extremely difficult.”
Kalintz nodded, yet his expression soon turned dismissive.
“In ordinary times, Airen, I would agree with every word. Attacking a better-garrisoned castle with fewer men is nearly impossible. But these are not ordinary times.”
“How so?”
“Ian’s army has only just rebelled. Order inside the castle must be in shambles. Soldiers who went to sleep serving Serpina woke to find their lord replaced. Morale will inevitably collapse. No matter how many men they have, troops who have lost the will to fight are nothing to fear even if they outnumber us two or three to one. If we can quickly crush the low-morale interceptors who come out to seize our siege engines, I judge we have a real chance.”
As I thought.
In the game, seizing a castle through rebellion always caused a sharp drop in troop morale. Common sense said the same—suddenly changing masters was bound to sow confusion. And morale was one of the most decisive factors in battle. I had watched high-morale forces of ten thousand led by SS-class generals smash thirty thousand demoralized troops more times than I could count across my ten thousand hours of play.
But—
Unfortunately, that does not apply this time.
Kalintz’s assumption that Ian’s army at Cherien Castle would be demoralized rested on two points that did not hold.
First, from a lore perspective: Ian Laschphalt was originally one of the independent northern lords who already possessed his own “Ian Army” in the game’s scenarios. From what I remembered of his background, he had been a fanatical follower of Algot von Aingart—the elder brother Serpina had killed. Variables always existed, so I could not know why he currently served under Serpina in this world-line, but he was no random upstart. He had a proper foundation. The soldiers who had served with him might not have lost much morale at all.
Second, purely from a systems perspective: the only case in which a rebellion did not tank morale was when a character already designated as a lord raised the banner. That was the sole exception. Given that my Intelligence 100 predictions never failed, I could not dismiss the possibility that the same “system” applied here.
And the fact that Ian had originally been a lord was information Kalintz could never possess. He was simply living through this world-line.
Of course, whether I thought so or not—
Kalintz was already speaking with the excitement of near-certainty.
“If we look at it that way, a difference of five thousand can be overcome. With only twenty-eight thousand I would not have forced it, but with thirty-eight thousand it is worth attempting. We leave three thousand as a minimum garrison and strike immediately with thirty-five thousand. We hit them before Serpina’s army can even grasp the situation.”
So that is how it is.
If Lin had sent no troops at all, Kalintz would never have risked a fight he was certain to lose. By sending an ambiguous number she had instead convinced him the odds were acceptable.
In the game that underpinned this world, thirty-five thousand taking a castle of forty thousand was not completely impossible. Recruit the Jerome Mercenary Band specialized in sieges, gather three or more of the continent’s rare siege specialists, stack high-Command SS-class generals, and plaster the field with siege engines, and you could take it as easily as eating cake.
But that was not the situation now.
“And luckily, the very specialist known for siege warfare has arrived.”
Kalintz praised Airen openly. She did possess the Siege Specialty, yet one person alone could not reverse the entire battle.
“Even so…”
“No more debate. I will not change my mind. This is an opportunity! A chance to invade Cherien Castle and earn glory!”
I sighed as I watched Kalintz pour out his fervor.
So he is obsessed with earning merit.
That explained the fortress in the middle of nowhere. He simply wanted to look as if he were doing something.
Kalintz Brans—second of the three Brans siblings, standing between Lin, the heir, and Chel, called the First Sword of Brans. Compared with his aggressive elder brother he was easier to handle, a calm S-class general. Yet coldly speaking, he fell short of his brother as a warrior and short of his sister the lord in Command. Capable, yes, but the most ordinary of the three.
To a player he had been a reliable workhorse—strong enough and hard to trap with schemes—but watching him this agitated reminded me once more that in-game flavor text could never capture the whole of a living person.
Even a “calm” man, when cornered, could end up like this. He had already failed to take Jeiland Castle when he outnumbered its three thousand defenders nearly three to one with eight thousand. Perhaps I myself had left him feeling precarious.
Still, that was his problem to overcome. Openly opposing him with “This is too dangerous; we must not march” would only earn needless hatred. If I made an enemy of him, my life might be endangered in some unexpected place. Unless the person was someone like Luna who trusted me absolutely, the safest path was to offer as little opinion as possible.
“We must move before Serpina’s army does. An opportunity like this will not come again. I will give you ten thousand men—prepare to march at once. I will follow shortly.”
From his tone it was clear he meant to place Airen in the vanguard. I could live with soldiers being thrown away in a losing battle, but I refused to watch her take the lead in a fight already decided. If things went wrong she would bear the entire blame.
It was time for me to step in.
“General Kalintz.”
“What is it?”
“If I may, I would like to offer a brief opinion.”
“Speak.”
“I believe sending General Airen forward with troops right now is not the correct choice.”
Kalintz’s eyebrows twitched. A sharp edge entered his voice.
“Oh? And your name was…?”
“Swen.”
“Very well, Swen. Are you saying that my plan to take Cherien Castle is the wrong choice?”
Normally I would have wondered why he was so easily provoked, but in this moment I was grateful.
Is attacking Cherien Castle the wrong choice?
It says yes.
I could not simply announce that, so I arranged my face into an expression of deep apology.
“Far from it. However, this will be an extremely difficult battle. Rather than General Airen, who has long remained in the rear and lacks experience, I believe it would be far more efficient for General Kalintz—who has continually fought in the north and knows the situation intimately—to take the vanguard himself.”
“Hmm… Is that so?”
“Yes. As one who also eats the Brans Army’s rice, I have continually heard of your exploits in the north. If you wish to earn glory, this may be the perfect opportunity.”
The words clearly pleased him. The earlier edge vanished completely.
“Very well. Since this is an important battle, I shall take the lead myself.”
It worked, as expected.
His younger sister Lin Brans possessed talent but was somewhat arrogant and indecisive, with a deep, festering inferiority complex. His elder brother Chel Brans was an extremely powerful general, yet his arrogance made him reckless and sometimes ruined his own plans. Their common trait was arrogance. It was not hard to guess that the man who shared their blood would carry a measure of the same pride even if he was calmer by nature.
Handling such a person was simple. A little flattery was enough. Moreover he was currently anxious. With his own pride high, he must have wanted to prove quickly that he did not lag behind either sibling.
“You—Swen, was it? Would you care to earn glory at my side?”
“No. As you can see, I am of frail constitution… I doubt I would be of much use in battle.”
“I see.”
Kalintz asked nothing further and turned away.
“Then we prepare to march at once. In the meantime I leave this fortress to Parke.”
“Understood!”
The brown-haired man finally spoke. So his name was Parke. The name meant nothing to me; he was clearly no major figure.
“Those of you who came with Airen may remain to guard the fortress as well. And Airen—forgive me, but I would like you to take the rear this time. Assist General Miguel, who will march with us.”
“Yes, sir!”
So he was not taking Cyllen, Jack, or me.
After Kalintz left the fortress, I leaned close to Airen’s ear as she prepared to follow and whispered.
“Lady Airen. Somehow place at least five thousand troops in the rear to secure a line of retreat. More if possible.”
“Swen…”
She glanced around, then asked carefully.
“Do you… believe we cannot win?”
“I do.”
It was not mere belief; I was certain. I had already predicted it.
Airen seemed to share my skepticism; she did not ask for reasons and simply nodded.
“Then, about taking the vanguard—”
She started to ask something, as if a thought had struck her, but closed her eyes briefly, opened them, and answered.
“…I understand. I will try to persuade General Miguel to make the recommendation. Kalintz will not listen if I speak to him directly.”
“Please. And one more thing—more important than anything I have said so far.”
I spoke with greater seriousness than ever before.
“No matter what happens, you must return alive, Lady Airen.”
“……!”
Whether the Brans Army suffered defeat after defeat, whether other officers died—that weight belonged to Lin, not me. What I wished to protect in this country was not Lord Lin Brans’s impossible dream, but Airen’s will—the will that remained unyielding even when everything that made her up denied her.
Airen stood frozen for a moment, saying nothing. Then she slowly nodded.
“I promise.”
“I will trust you, Lady Airen.”
She said nothing more, only turned and walked away. Yet I saw it clearly.
Faint though it was, she was smiling.