Defense of the Valharat Western Fortress (3)

I turned the prediction over in my mind again and again.

It rests with Heaven?

I had seen this prediction before.

It did not mean, literally, that the outcome hung upon the sky. It meant the result would shift according to my own actions — not anyone else's.

But… what did it mean that the victory or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠defeat of a war depended on my actions, and no one else's?

My Intelligence was high, but my Martial was absurdly low. My Command was probably low as well. Those were a general's virtues, not a strategist's.

Of course, it was hardly unheard of for a strategist to snatch victory with some brilliant tactic. But I was a strategist in name only — when it came to actual battlefield tactics, I was a complete amateur.

And yet the battle's outcome would turn on my choices?

On top of that, a retreat was rated as somewhat close?

Two predictions, both absolute, with no discernible connection between them. I was still staring blankly when—

"Swen?"

Epinel, who had no way of knowing I was drowning in confusion, pressed me again for an answer.

Only then did I manage to reply in a somewhat steadier voice.

"Pardon? Ah… yes. I believe Lady Epinel is correct."

The answer had come a little late, but somehow I had gotten through the moment.

"Listen well, all of you! The decision is to hold the fortress. Make ready for battle. Musel, Jayden, and Airen — I am placing great expectations on the three of you."

"Understood!"

And so the matter was settled not by Zinor's call for retreat, but by Epinel's resolve to stand and fight.

"Then return to your posts."

With those words from Epinel, the others filed out. In the emptied council chamber, only Airen and I remained.

"Swen? Is something the matter?"

"Lady Airen."

Airen was one of our principal fighting strengths. In a situation where even a single general was precious, her fate was to go out onto the field and fight.

If I failed to find the optimal move here… she was the one who would be in danger.

"If something is troubling you, you can tell me."

"It's nothing. I suppose I'm simply a little tense before the battle."

"I see."

Airen smiled faintly.

"You needn't worry, Swen. Even if it means turning my back on the Asius Army, I will protect you — no matter what."

"Turning your back on the Asius Army… You say the most dangerous things so casually. If anyone overheard that—"

"I don't care. What matters to me isn't anyone else. It's you, Swen. Didn't I tell you? I live for you."

Her words were not bluster. They were sincere.

Just earlier, when Epinel had told me to perform a ritual, Airen had tried to step in and stop it mid-sentence. She had only recently joined us — and depending how one looked at it, she was the very reason the Brans Army had invaded. If someone in her position had pushed her opinions so forcefully, she would surely have earned resentment. And yet she had been ready to speak without a moment's hesitation.

The reason was not hard to guess.

She believed that whenever I did something like that — performing a ritual, calling down a miracle — I was staking my life on it.

If the only way we could win was for me to summon another meteor, she would choose defeat instead.

For her sake alone, I had to find the right answer.

"I feel the same, Lady Airen."

"Mm. …I know."

The smile she wore as she said it was so unbearably lovely.

Perhaps that was why.

I stepped closer and drew her lightly into my arms.

It was a somewhat impulsive gesture, and I felt her body give a small start — but then she opened her arms and rested her hands against my waist.

She did not refuse me. She took me into her world.

That feeling, rising from her warmth.

It made me feel alive. It was what kept me living.

We held each other in silence for a little while.

"…Swen. I'll go down and do what I need to do. If you need me, come find me anytime."

"Understood."

After Airen left the council chamber, I sat alone in the quiet that remained and whispered softly to myself.

All right. Let's try this one more time.

The same thing I had clawed at to survive — an ordinary modern man who could do nothing but make predictions that were always correct, who knew next to nothing of strategy or tactics.

A kind of deduction. The moment had come to do it again.

Erase everything impossible. And whatever remains, however absurd it may look, is the truth.

It would be the same this time.

I began to think, calmly.

I had been given two absolute truths.

That withdrawing our forces from this place was somewhat close.

And that the outcome of this battle rested with Heaven — meaning it rested with my choice.

Let me sort them one at a time.

When I first heard them, I had been too rattled to think clearly. But if I accounted for the fact that a prediction from a mind of Intelligence 100 was rendered not from my personal standpoint, but from the standpoint of the force I currently belonged to — the Asius Army, the nation itself — then "my choice" did not mean Swen as an individual so much as this: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if our army made the right decision here, we could win.

Once I thought it through calmly, that was how it resolved.

So if our army was to do something…

Either take the initiative somehow… or prepare against something the enemy is doing. One of the two?

Only then did I slowly draw the paper from inside my clothes.

This place was west of Valharat Castle. Put another way, it was the eastern ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠region of Lacline Castle — the easternmost edge of Brans territory.

Which meant this area fell within the range of the map I had drawn some time ago: the borderlands surrounding Brans territory.

If we needed to prepare against something, the terrain would surely hold a clue.

I spread the map and carefully examined the ground from Lacline Castle to Valharat Castle, along with the area around the fortress itself.

There are more forests scattered around than I expected.

Perhaps those woods nearby would give me something. A way to use them, or else…

…No.

Change the approach.

This was not the time to think from our side. I needed to think from the enemy's.

If I were with the Brans Army, how would I act?

If I were Chel Brans. If I were Parfalle, the Brans Army's strategist — what would I be thinking as I moved?

On what grounds had they decided to send roughly fifty thousand troops against the fortress?

I slowly emptied my head and focused.

If I had been standing on the Brans Army's side…

…Then I wouldn't send the troops at all.

The more I thought about it, the more the very fact of a sudden sortie felt wrong.

The reason.

It might sound a little ridiculous to anyone hearing it… but I could not help putting it into words.

Because I'm here. Because Swen is here.

They couldn't ignore Swen's existence… so they wouldn't simply throw soldiers straight at us.

I had predicted a natural disaster and acted as though I had caused it myself.

And that had been while I was still with the Brans Army.

It was hard to believe the Brans Army of all people would have overlooked that point.

Parfalle, the current state tactician of the Brans Army, was not so foolish a woman as to miss something so basic.

She would have accounted for it. Of course she would.

And yet they had still sent the troops. The reason was…

Lacline Castle.

There, Chel and Parfalle were speaking alone.

On the table lay a single map of the surrounding terrain, and nothing else.

"Lady Strategist. I am truly glad to see you well, with no misfortune in the time since we last met."

"I heard the news. His Lordship ordered you to seize Asius territory, did he not?"

"He did. Having Lady Parfalle at my side is a great reassurance."

"And I feel as though I have gained a host of reinforcements, knowing General Chel will take the vanguard."

The polite formalities passed.

Chel went straight to the point.

"First — the enemy commander holding the fortress is Epinel Rosencross."

Epinel Rosencross.

A woman of well-rounded, outstanding ability, regarded as the finest general in the Asius Army.

Parfalle knew her well — one of the renowned Asius Three Heroes.

Among them, Ernandof possessed the greatest Martial. Emma excelled in Command and had a sharp mind. And the one who could bind those two together through sheer leadership was Epinel.

If anything were to befall Yuri Acius, the person almost certain to succeed her as sovereign would be Epinel — and that alone said enough about who she was.

"Our confirmation puts their strength at roughly forty-eight thousand. Of course, since it is a fortress rather than a castle, if we bring plenty of siege engines and clear out any forces that sortie to meet us, we would have a fair chance of victory… but His Lordship said that once the western front is settled, he will send additional troops this way. I am weighing whether we should wait for those reinforcements, or strike at once and deny the enemy time to prepare."

Chel finished and looked Parfalle straight in the eye.

"I would hear your counsel, Lady Strategist."

"…May I speak my mind freely?"

Parfalle pointed at the map before her.

"In our present state, no matter what measure we take, capturing the fortress is impossible. A full frontal engagement itself is out of the question."

"Impossible? Forgive me, but I am not sure I follow."

"Have you forgotten, General? What happened at the northern fortress."

"…!"

What had happened in the north.

Within the Brans Army, that incident had long since hardened into a single phrase: the day the stones fell from the sky.

And hearing her mention it, Chel understood at once what she meant.

"Ah…"

"Airen Juliette is not the only traitor. Under her served a man named Swen. He is a man of remarkable insight — clever enough to see through the schemes of the Asius Army. According to the rumors, at that fortress he made a great show of performing a ritual, communed with the heavens, and wrought that miracle. If our army exposes its full strength and charges the fortress as we are — do you truly believe they will simply come out and fight us? Will he not perform another ritual and knock once more upon heaven's gate?"

Chel could give no answer. He listened with a grave expression.

"I cannot say by what principle his ability manifests, or whether the rumors are true and it is genuine magic — but from our army's standpoint, there is no reason to test that ability for him, is there?"

"…Hrmmm."

"Of course, thinking that way leaves the question of why he has not simply marched on us already with that power… but as I said, we have no reason to experiment with his ability."

"Then what are we to do? Does that not mean we have no real chance of victory?"

"It is not as though there is no method at all."

Parfalle moved her finger to the place on the map marked Lacline Castle.

"To achieve ultimate victory in this campaign, we must sortie toward the fortress at once. Or rather — more precisely… what we need is the fact of the sortie itself."

Hearing that much, Chel seemed to grasp something. He nodded.

"Then what you mean, Lady Strategist, is…"

"Exactly."

Parfalle inclined her head.

"The soldiers who sortie toward the fortress—"

"…The soldiers who sortie toward the fortress are bait. To pin me down… is that it?"

I murmured it aloud without meaning to.

The answer that had come after thought piled upon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thought — after asking myself, again and again, what I would have done if I had been the Brans Army.

Bait.

The idea that the advance force now approaching this place was a decoy would not leave my mind.