Chapter 224: Timeouts Are Called by the Losing Side
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 224: Timeouts Are Called by the Losing Side
At the Military State's temporary base, set up on the Meta Conveyor Belt, a strategy meeting was in full swing.
An organized chaos raged around a square table. The generals had proposed countless countermeasures, but no clear solution to break the stalemate had emerged.
Though many points were raised, the common undercurrent in all their statements was anxiety.
"Our forces have been diminished, while theirs remain intact. What's more, now that we know they can interfere with the Meta Conveyor Belt, pursuing them on it is pointless."
It was a crushing defeat. Had the Military State ever suffered such a devastating loss since its founding?
There were plenty of excuses. Their opponent was the legendary Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka, and to make matters worse, the Beast King—who was supposed to remain neutral—had blatantly sided with them.
And most importantly, the enemy's prowess—particularly that of the young swordsman with the invisible sword—had far exceeded their predictions.
Patraxion shouted in fury.
"That brat! He was holding back when he fought me! Does he think I'm some kind of pushover? I'll never, ever forgive him!"
"...General. And how exactly do you plan on not forgiving him? I must remind you again, you are not to act on your own."
When his disciple, Colonel Gand, asked cautiously, Patraxion tightened his grip on his spear shaft and retorted fiercely.
"What do you think I'll do? The next time we meet, I'll crush him with everything I've got. I hate people who don't go all out in a duel!"
"This isn't a duel! It's a military operation!"
"All conflict is just a series of duels! In any case, next time, I'll make sure to draw out that brat's full power!"
"Don't draw it out, you have to crush him with all your might! That's the only way we'll rescue Major General Historia!"
At Colonel Gand's mention of Historia, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.
Historia had been more committed to this operation than anyone. She had taken the Gunner Corps ahead, fighting a delaying action to pin the enemy down for an entire day. Even when the situation turned against her, she had faced them alone to protect her troops.
Regardless of any personal feelings she had about the mission, Historia had fought with her life on the line. The generals felt not only admiration for her but also a slight sense of indebtedness.
Patraxion asked seriously.
"Major General Historia? Did you just call her Major General Historia?"
"I did. Is there a problem?"
As everyone watched him, waiting for his response, he replied with an utterly casual air.
"Hey, didn't you used to say Historia was just an arrogant kid who shot guns for show? Ever since she wiped the floor with you in that sparring match, you've been so diligent about using her proper title, haven't you?"
"I'm being respectful! You should try it too, General! You're not the only one in this room!"
"I'm the highest-ranking officer here. And it's not like the old Mage Marshal is around..."
"Is this any time to be slacking off just because I'm not here?!"
The door burst open, and the Mage Marshal entered, adjusting her collar after finishing her reconnaissance and repairs on the belt. Patraxion, who had been lounging in a relaxed posture, grumbled and sat up straight.
"Tch, speak of the devil. Guess I'm not the top dog anymore."
"Enough nonsense! Shouldn't you be focused on rescuing the Major General? She's in enemy hands, and we have no idea what terrible ordeal she might be going through!"
One of the few people who could lecture the ever-willful Sunderspear without hesitation: Mage Marshal Prelvior.
Back in the days of the kingdom, mages—few in number and possessing mystical abilities—were the exclusive domain of the nobility. Nobles kept powerful mages as retainers, deploying them for tasks that required an "arcane" touch. Those with Unique Magic upheld the nobles' power in unimaginable ways.
Amidst this, Prelvior took on all sorts of dirty, difficult jobs, from construction to warfare, earning immense support from soldiers and citizens alike. She herself refused the glory, claiming she was only doing it to cover her magic expenses.
The kingdom's nobility, half in mockery and half in amazement at a mage doing manual labor, called her the "Worker of the Kingdom."
Even Sunderspear tended to watch his words around the single-minded woman.
"That's why you need to practice flying! If we get caught in your winds, there won't be anything left of us to find! No one can fly with you unless they're a general who can survive the fall! How long are you going to make us hang on like kites?"
"Quiet!"
Comparatively speaking, of course.
Striding over to the table with the map of the Military State, Prelvior tossed a rolled mana herb onto it.
"I've received a solution for dealing with the Beast King."
"What is it?"
"Avoid engaging him if possible. As long as we don't attack first, the Beast King won't show any hostility. However, if the Cat King acts hostile again, I was told to light this calming mana herb."
What the Mage Marshal had placed on the table was a cigar with a refreshing scent. Patraxion picked it up, sniffed it, and frowned.
"Who gave you this?"
The Mage Marshal answered. "The Warforger, Maximilien."
"That guy makes potions now, not just weapons? Then again, all alchemists have a shady side. So, when is the secret weapon arriving?"
"The Warforger is currently crafting a weapon to counter them. He will join us as soon as it is complete."
"He's still not done? By the time he is, they'll have already fled to the Duchy. I need my spear repaired, too, but he's never around when you need him."
"You insolent man! Don't interrupt your elders! If you have nothing constructive to say, then just listen!"
After shouting him down, the Mage Marshal addressed the room.
"Listen up. A plan has been drafted. The next battle will take place at the Far East Terminal! They will likely attempt to travel from there along the coastal road to the Duchy. We will engage them in a decisive battle and prevent them from reaching that road!"
The Far East Terminal was the largest in the Military State and also housed numerous control facilities for the maintenance of the Meta Conveyor Belt. This section, where the belt moved slowest within the State's borders, had been chosen as the next battleground.
As everyone nodded in agreement with the sound strategy, a staff officer cautiously spoke up.
"But, ma'am, we're behind them. How do we plan to get ahead of them?"
"You, the one who just spoke! Raise your hand when you have a question!"
"M-My apologies, ma'am."
The staff officer raised his hand and repeated his question. Only then did Prelvior turn to face him and declare in a booming voice.
"Good! How am I supposed to face you and answer if you don't identify yourself! Remember that. Stating your identity! It's a fundamental of reporting!"
"I will remember that, ma'am."
"Quick to learn. That's a good attitude!"
Nodding in satisfaction, Prelvior continued her explanation.
"The multipurpose armored division, Bernartern, is on standby at the Far East Terminal. They will execute the delaying action."
The name that left Prelvior's lips was that of the Military State's most elite corps. The staff officer was stunned.
"Bernartern? You mean the Level 5 elite unit directly under Command Headquarters, reserved only for full-scale war? Deployed for an incident like this, not even a war between nations...?"
"The Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka is a one-woman army. She is an enemy who warrants such a response. Furthermore, considering her ability to summon darkness as her troops, it is far better for us to counter with a corps of our own. We will entrust the direct engagement with the Progenitor to Bernartern, while we strike from the rear."
It was a classic hammer and anvil tactic. Bernartern would be the anvil, holding the enemy in place on the slow-moving section of the Meta Conveyor Belt. The generals, led by the Mage Marshal and Sunderspear, would be the hammer, striking from behind to finish them off.
It was a perfect plan. As all plans are—if they go according to plan.
Naturally, the staff officer pointed this out.
"What if they avoid a confrontation at the Far East Terminal?"
"If they step off the belt, it's to our advantage. The full might of a corps is best displayed on open ground. We can simply finish them with maneuver warfare."
"That may be true, but they are individuals with the power of an entire corps. If they hide and engage in guerrilla warfare, we'll be in trouble."
"All available personnel, led by the Signallers, are mobilized for surveillance. They won't be able to leave the country, nor will they be able to hide."
"Hmm..."
After a moment's hesitation, the staff officer glanced around before bracing himself to voice the final, most difficult possibility.
"What if... they take Major General Historia hostage...?"
Even Prelvior, whose expression was usually as hard as steel, saw her face tighten.
Sorcerer Lankart and Gunmaster Historia. Of the two great talents expected to lead the Military State's future, only Historia remained.
Historia wasn't a particularly charming person, but Prelvior had grown fond of her polite yet flexible demeanor. Though their fields were different, she secretly held Historia in higher regard than Lankart.
If she could follow her heart, she would save her at any cost, but...
"...There will be no negotiations. Attempt to retrieve her, but if the situation becomes critical, you are to abandon the attempt."
The Military State does not negotiate. To bend the knee once is to bend it a second time—the first domino in a chain that could lead to the nation's collapse.
Do not endanger the state for an individual. This was the fundamental principle, the very identity of the Military State.
As the generals nodded grimly, Sunderspear alone wore a cryptic smile. The Mage Marshal tried to ignore him, gritting her teeth, but found the sight too irritating and finally snapped.
"General Patraxion. If you have something to say, then say it instead of smirking like an idiot!"
"Heh heh. You people wouldn't know."
With a mischievous grin, Patraxion replied playfully.
"The Daughter of the Military State, that little delinquent. She got captured on purpose."
"...What did you just say, Patraxion?"
"I'm talking about Historia. Even when the situation turned against her and it was time to retreat, she deliberately charged in. She infiltrated them."
Everyone was left dumbfounded by the unexpected claim. Amidst the stunned silence, Patraxion nodded to himself and continued.
"She put on a good show of fighting hard, but she couldn't fool my eyes. She could have just rolled off the belt, but instead, she insisted on clashing with the Cat King before pretending to be out of strength."
"Why would she take such a risk?"
"Hmm? Is it really that risky? Aside from wiping out a few bases and rampaging through the Capital Headquarters, those guys haven't really done much else, have they?"
"That's more than dangerous enough! They cut off the Earth Sage's arm and burned down five supply bases! All for no reason!"
"I doubt it was for no reason. In any case, they don't seem to be killing people indiscriminately. It's obvious she let herself be captured to infiltrate their ranks."
But getting captured deliberately was a huge risk. It was especially dangerous when dealing with individuals whose power could overwhelm a group, as taking a prisoner could instantly tip the scales.
It was too extreme to be a simple impulsive act. The staff officer voiced another possibility, a dreadful thought crossing his mind.
"Could it be... that she has defected to their side...?"
At that moment, every general in the room turned to stare at him.