Sincerity, Not Coercion

After parting ways with Swen, who had promised he would join her soon, Irene arrived at Lacline Castle on the easternmost frontier — and there, by fortunate timing, she crossed paths with Parfalle, who was just about to leave.

"General Irene?"

"It's been some time, Strategist. Are you on assignment?"

"I was just about to head back, actually… What brings you all the way out here, General?"

Irene inclined her head slightly as she answered.

"By my lord's command, I have been reassigned here. I expect to carry out my duties at Lacline Castle from now on."

"Is that so…?"

At those words, Parfalle tilted her head, sinking into thought.

Her lord, Lin, was stationing Irene on the eastern border?

In the Brans Army, a border posting meant the general's ability was trusted enough to place them somewhere critical. The generals assigned to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the frontiers were, as a rule, far more capable than those garrisoned at inland castles.

But Lin had always despised Irene. No matter how often Parfalle advised her, Lin had never shown the slightest inclination to put Irene to meaningful use. Parfalle herself had remonstrated more than once — and had half given up on the matter entirely.

And yet Lin had personally assigned Irene to the eastern front, currently the most vital theater in the entire Brans Army?

Parfalle had been stationed in the east the whole time, so she hadn't even had a chance to offer counsel on the decision.

What on earth is going on…?

Perhaps it was a strategist's instinct. As she stood there sensing that something unexpected was afoot, Irene offered a light farewell.

"Then I'll take my leave first, Strategist."

"Ah… Of course."

After Irene departed, Parfalle drew a letter from her pocket.

The letter… had come from Swen.

At first she had wondered why he had written to her instead of speaking to their lord directly. But having served Lin for so long in the Brans Army herself, she could hardly claim not to understand.

Lin was an extremely difficult personality. After the thrashing she had taken in the north, she was almost certainly in a foul mood. For a newly arrived officer to freely voice his opinions to such a lord would be no easy thing.

Of course, Swen had already worked several miracles that defied belief, and he was sharp enough to have seen through the Asius Army's schemes — but a nation's sovereign was its monarch, not its strategists or generals. Exceptional ability did not automatically translate into a ruler's trust.

When she first received the letter, she had planned simply to ignore it, return to Anel Castle, assess the situation, and then head south. But the string of events she had experienced in the east had earned Swen a considerable measure of her confidence.

It's not that far. A quick look shouldn't hurt.

Besides, Chel Brans — the First Sword of Brans — was stationed on the southern border. Even if something had gone wrong, if she could provide a solution, cleaning it up wouldn't take long.

Yes. A brief detour would be fine.

The trust Parfalle had placed in Swen after he saw through that scheme was now moving her exactly as he intended.

Not long after her reassignment, the order came down exactly as expected: Irene was to construct a fortress.

The fortress went up remarkably fast. Unlike the carefully brick-built fortifications of the north, this one was little more than a wooden frame with a roof slapped on top. To call it a fortress was generous — at best, it was a field camp.

Not that Irene minded. It was more than adequate for quartering troops, and the longer construction dragged on, the more precarious their position would become.

"Well done, all of you. Stand by until further orders."

"Yes, ma'am! Understood!!"

The soldiers' roaring reply shook the sky.

Ordinarily, fortress construction fell almost entirely to the rank and file. A commander supervised and nothing more — never hauling materials or laboring alongside the men. But Irene had spent the entire build sweating with her soldiers, eating and sleeping no differently from them.

To the men, that alone was enough to lift their spirits. After all, they had just watched a barely finished northern fortress get smashed to rubble. The contrast with commanders who simply worked them like beasts could not have been starker.

On the very day the fortress was completed, a lone soldier came riding hard toward them. The Brans Army crest on his gear marked him as one of their own.

A messenger…?

A flicker of unease crossed Irene's mind. Had Lin sensed something? She was still weighing what to do if ordered to return when the rider drew near and removed the helmet that had hidden his face.

Irene knew exactly who he was.

"…Swen?"

I reined in before a startled Irene, dismounted at an unhurried pace, and spoke.

"Lady Irene. You've finished the fortress safely, I see. Though calling it a fortress might be generous — it looks more like a camp."

She listened, then smiled with unmistakable delight.

"I was wondering when you'd join us… I didn't expect you to arrive as a common soldier."

"If it looked like I'd simply vanished from my post, it could cause problems. They'll assume I'm still in the cave, communing with the heavens."

Right. Why else had I been making those regular trips, spending hours — sometimes entire days — in that place? To plant the image in people's minds that Swen was the sort of man who periodically meditated there to commune with the sky.

It would come out eventually, of course. But all we needed was a little time. Time was everything. That was why I had sent the letter to Strategist Parfalle, sending her on a wild goose chase, and why I had endured those tedious hours in the cave.

We had to surrender as quickly as possible, before Lin caught on.

"No unusual word yet?"

"None. Not even an order to advance. A messenger should arrive soon enough, though."

"Good. Let's make contact with the Asius Army at once."

"Agreed. But first, there's something I must do."

"Something you must do?"

Irene nodded.

"I need to speak with the soldiers. Tell them I mean to change lords. Anyone who cannot accept that will be free to leave."

"…What?"

I couldn't hide my surprise at the unexpected words. She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠answered in a tone of absolute conviction.

"Is that not only natural? The right to choose one's lord does not belong to you and me alone."

…

Hold on. In the system, when a general with full authority surrendered, the soldiers under them automatically changed allegiance. The Ian Army's rebellion had already proven that this world largely followed those rules. Was there really any need to go this far—

The moment the thought formed, I felt how soft and shallow it was.

Think about Irene herself. In the game, you never learned what she endured, what insults she swallowed, while serving under Lin. This was her pride — the pride of a commander who refused to treat her soldiers as disposable.

…I'll trust Lady Irene on this one.

Giving them a choice might cost us a few deserters. But this was a world where predictions born of Intelligence 100 came true as written. Here, I wanted to honor her pride over pure efficiency.

"Understood. Then those who wish to stay will stay, and those who wish to leave will be free to go."

"Mm."

With that, she set off at a measured pace. I followed behind her.

At the highest point of the fortress — "highest" being relative; for a small fort, it was barely the height of a two-story building, but more than enough to command the soldiers' attention — Irene took her place and began to address them in a ringing voice.

"Men, hear me!"

Every soldier looked up at her. The silence held for a moment — until her next words set a low murmur rolling through the ranks.

"From this moment, I intend to change my lord!"

The soldiers reacted in a dozen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠different ways, all of them stunned. Some turned to the man beside them. Others simply stared up at Irene, blank with shock. She paid their confusion no mind, declaring her will with unshaken dignity.

"There are reasons for this, but I know full well that any explanation would amount to nothing more than a traitor's excuses. I will not ask you to understand me. I also understand that this decision may be hard to accept for those of you who have served the Brans Army with such dedication. Therefore — save those who choose to come with me — you are free to leave this fortress!"

"…"

"Anyone who wishes to go may leave at once! You need not worry about how it looks!"

"…"

And yet, astonishingly, not a single soldier left his place. They only gazed up at her with something close to reverence.

Irene faltered for a heartbeat.

"Lady Irene."

I rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. That seemed to steady her. She raised her voice again.

"Those who remain, I shall take as having chosen to follow me. You have no objections, I trust!"

And with those words — at last — the soldiers' voices rose from the ranks.

"None!"

"The only one we serve is General Irene!"

"We will follow General Irene!"

"Please — take us with you!"

"…"

I thought to myself: was this the system's compulsion at work?

I was certain it was not. This world may have been built on a game, but it was a living reality. Just as James had possessed a universe of his own, these soldiers had the right to choose a superior worthy of their loyalty.

Irene… had simply won their hearts completely.

Having marched long distances at her side, I knew how deeply the soldiers trusted and followed her. The path she had walked, and the desire of her men to walk it with her — that had nothing to do with any "system."

When the speech ended, not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a single soldier had deserted. In total, we secured some thirty-eight thousand troops.

Only one thing remained.

To meet with Yuuri Asius of the Baranga line.

That same day, a soldier rode out for Valharat Castle bearing a letter that declared their intent to surrender.

And several days later—

"An Asius Army soldier is approaching!"

A lone rider came galloping toward us, carefully carrying the crimson banner that symbolized the Asius Army. He passed through the gates without difficulty and came to a halt before Irene.

His attire was distinctly different from Brans Army gear — though the red armband on his sleeve was a familiar enough mark. He appeared to be a messenger dispatched as an envoy to convey the Asius Army's response.

"Am I addressing General Irene?"

"You are."

"My lord, Yuuri Asius of the Baranga line, wishes to speak with you. She has established a light camp with her soldiers not far from here. I would escort you there, if you are willing."

"Mm."

Good. They were willing to hear us out. And if they would listen… we could find a way through.

Time to go meet my new lord's face.

Together with Irene and a small escort of soldiers, I followed the Asius Army messenger.