Western Outing
The once-quiet Grand Duchy of Schurelitz received a solemn imperial decree.
At last, the time had come for the Empire to once again shake the heavens with its renown.
So rise from your long slumber, and prepare once more to fulfill your duty.
"It's war."
Yes—he'd thought the Empire had been far too quiet of late.
They say excessive swordplay is worse than none at all, yet the silence had stretched on for far too long.
In the end, everything comes down to the taker and the taken.
And with such a perfect pretext presenting itself, how could they possibly hold back?
"I hear the Ministry of War is already on the move."
"It seems His Majesty has been planning this all along."
"What do you mean by that, Your Grace?"
At his retainer's question, one of the Empire's three Grand Dukes—Kendrick Gloucester de Schurelitz—thought for a moment, then shook his head.
Even with a close retainer, speaking of imperial matters was burdensome.
He must have been aiming for this from the start.
The ones who started it were the western Kingdom Alliance. They had crossed the line themselves.
But they wouldn't have acted so rashly without reason.
In his view, the Emperor had very carefully induced this entire situation—applying just the right pressure, putting on just the right act, pretending just the right amount of ignorance—and had properly led the Alliance into ruining things out of their own impatience.
Thanks to that, the situation was turning far more favorably than before.
Did it not look as though the Empire, while striving for peace, had been thoroughly stabbed in the back?
The Alliance fools are dense. Not a single scheme succeeded. That said… still, what a terrifying man. The one seated on the throne is a hundred times more fearsome than any man with a sword.
Well, without such qualities, how could one run this vast Empire?
For the sake of the nation and its people, one must sometimes become a vile swindler, a cruel slaughterer. If the sword can fatten the Empire and fill its people's bellies, then so it must be done.
That is the unavoidable destiny of those who govern.
"Has anyone come from the Ministry of War?"
"Yes. Word is they'll be moving the legions at once. They're even committing the magic corps. An expedition of this scale is something we haven't seen in a very long time, isn't it?"
"We'll need to prepare without delay as well. Hurry. He is not a man who likes to be kept waiting."
At the Grand Duke of Schurelitz's words, the retainer nodded, unable to hide his excitement.
Thirty years. Fully thirty years of silence had passed.
As the Empire's Sword, the Grand Duchy of Schurelitz had little choice during peacetime. That stretch had grown so long that some had begun to worry the house's prestige might be waning.
There had been petty frictions, yes, but nothing that even deserved to be called battle. Schurelitz had slipped past silence into something like a long sleep.
But in this moment, every such worry vanished.
All that remained was to proclaim once more the glory of the Empire and the greatness of Schurelitz. They would show everyone: the Empire's Sword had not lost its edge!
The instant that blade unleashed its dreadful light upon the battlefield, the enemy would know regret!
He had fully expected to take command of the imperial legions and march at once. Word was that even the magic corps would be committed—an advance of truly enormous scale. He had assumed Schurelitz's banners would fly at the very front.
"Prepare the men."
That is, until the very next day, when the Grand Duke of Schurelitz spoke those words.
"Pardon? Your Grace—what do you mean, all of a sudden…?"
"A new imperial order has arrived."
An imperial decree had come down only days ago, and already another had followed.
Even more astonishing was what came next, in rapid succession: the legions and magic corps that had been preparing to deploy were returning to their posts. Of that great host, only a single legion would move with Schurelitz.
The retainers could make no sense of it at all.
So the Grand Duke of Schurelitz quietly explained why everything had changed so suddenly.
"John Nassen will be joining the procession west."
"…What?"
"I don't know what methods His Majesty employed, but all three of the direct line are heading west. Our plans have been altered accordingly—we will travel with them."
"…"
The moment they heard those words, every man closed his mouth and simply nodded.
The Grand Duchy of Schurelitz still had veterans who had once pushed as far as the north. They remembered well what sort of beings they had fought at that farthest edge—creatures more terrifying than any nightmare the world had to offer.
This should be interesting.
Even though a war of colossal scale—the very chance for his house to shine—had been derailed, the Grand Duke of Schurelitz showed neither resentment nor regret.
He remembered all too clearly the power of that northern battle race he had witnessed with his own eyes in his youth. If anything, traveling west with them felt like a reward bestowed by the Emperor.
The Alliance would not hold; they would kneel soon enough. John Nassen did not care for glory. So instead, you—Schurelitz—shall become the Empire's victor and accept their surrender. This is the prize for the long years you waited. That was what the arrangement seemed to say.
"It is an honor to meet you, Grand Duke of Schurelitz."
And so the Grand Duke found himself face-to-face with the principal figure of the recent Academy half-destruction incident.
"A pleasure to meet you as well, Leah John Nassen."
So this is the woman of all those rumors.
The Grand Duke of Schurelitz studied Leah with open interest. He was far too old now and had long since stepped aside for the younger generation, but twenty years ago he himself had been one of the Imperial 10 Strongest, his martial renown spreading far and wide. White-haired though he was, he could still handle two or three knights without trouble. There was a reason that when people spoke of martial houses, Schurelitz was the first name that came to mind.
"…Hah."
Yet even the Grand Duke of Schurelitz let out a dry laugh the moment he saw Leah.
That refined, bottomless martial presence—something ordinary knights would not even dare to read—hid a savage aura capable of crushing most monsters by sheer spirit alone. Having roughly gauged her level, the Grand Duke reached a firm conclusion.
The current members of the Imperial 10 Strongest would struggle to handle the woman standing before him alone. At the very least two of them—generously three—would need to coordinate just to match her.
Even compared to myself in my prime…
He had a warrior's confidence. He had the pride of the Grand Duke of Schurelitz. Even accounting for all of that, the words "I could take her" did not come easily. Even at his peak, he doubted he could have handled her alone.
So the Academy half-destruction incident wasn't exaggerated—if anything, it was understated.
He thought he understood now why the Emperor had rushed to bury the matter. He had assumed it was about wounded imperial pride or diminished imperial prestige. In truth, it seemed the Emperor had been trying to prevent a far greater terror from descending upon the Empire.
"I hear you'll be heading west with us this time. I look forward to working with you."
What was more remarkable still was how hard it was to believe she was the same person who had caused such an outrage. Her appearance was already more than beautiful, and the confident air she carried was pleasant to look at. Nor was she arrogant or lacking in manners—if anything, she was a thoroughly well-bred young lady.
I would have been glad to have a daughter-in-law like that.
The Grand Duke of Schurelitz entertained the ordinary thought for a fleeting moment, then shook his head. Marriage into John Nassen would make imperial scrutiny impossible to avoid. He doubted his own house could even handle the woman. Besides, his sons were already married with children of their own.
"Brother. Over here."
Leah gestured, calling someone over. A moment later, a man appeared who looked as though he could suppress three or four knights with a single finger.
"It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace."
"…A pleasure. So you are the heir of House John Nassen."
The Grand Duke's voice came out stiff without his meaning it to. It was the natural wariness a man of a certain caliber felt toward a powerful opponent—a habit that, even in old age, had leapt out of him for an instant.
"Lear John Nassen."
Compared to Leah, whom he had just met, his impression of Lear could be summed up in a single thought.
He's insane.
Leah alone had been enough to draw admiration, yet this elder brother was even stronger. And he was not yet even thirty—given time, he would only grow more complete. How strong he might become then was something the Grand Duke could not even begin to imagine.
"…You'll need to go to the Academy."
At the Grand Duke of Schurelitz's words, Lear gave a small nod. Originally the plan had been for just the two of them—himself and Leah—to go. But after seeing Kyle, he had changed his mind. This was not the sort of "battle" one could experience anytime; better to give him the experience. More importantly, he needed to move his body properly if he was going to burn off that stubborn fat.
"Understood. Since we already have the imperial order, I'll send someone to the Academy. I will take command of the troops and wait on the outskirts—bring your younger brother out with you."
"Understood, Your Grace. We shall see you later."
Parting from the John Nassen siblings, the Grand Duke of Schurelitz left the central region. Nearby, the legion that would head west had already finished its preparations.
Originally a far larger expeditionary force should have set out. But with the sudden change of plans, only a single legion was on the move. At its head rode the Empire's Sword—the Grand Duke of Schurelitz—and under him the undefeated Order of the Sword Brothers. Whenever people spoke of imperial victory, that grand duchy and that order of knights had always been there. As a result, there was little real confusion among the imperial legions.
"Your Grace. The carriage carrying the John Nassen party has arrived."
They had said they would fetch their younger brother, and they had truly brought him in no time at all. There seemed to have been no explanations, no preparations—nothing of the sort.
"Hm."
From a distance, the moment he laid eyes on the youth who was the youngest of House John Nassen, the Grand Duke of Schurelitz thought: so John Nassen was not composed solely of monsters wearing human skins. Having the occasional one like this was probably necessary if they were to look even slightly human.
Of course, that did not mean the youngest was weak. It was simply that the brother and sister standing around him were far too strong.