Chapter 80: An Unprepared Disaster (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 80: An Unprepared Disaster (1)
The Hector Kingdom.
It was once a powerhouse comparable to the Kronos Empire.
Though it had grown rapidly on the back of its formidable military strength, the kingdom plummeted into an abyss after a devastating defeat by Valhalla, an empire that had emerged from the barren jungles. Now, its situation was no different from the Cairo Kingdom's. Reduced to just another of the continent's six kingdoms, it was forced to constantly gauge the empires' reactions before making any decisions.
And yet, the leaders of this very kingdom.
Deep within the palace, shielded from prying eyes, they were holding a secret meeting.
A man with a scarred face.
Jackson, commander of the Ranger unit, knelt before King Hector and reported the intelligence he had gathered.
"Over the past year, the Ranger unit has scouted the Cairo Kingdom's Southern Front a total of forty-eight times. The Southern Front consists of five defense lines. However, because Cairo's attention is entirely focused on defending the Western Front against the Kronos Empire, they have absolutely no interest in the south. The guards at each line typically rotate shifts every four hours, but perhaps because they believe their relations with the Hector Kingdom are peaceful, both their numbers and discipline have severely deteriorated. I can confidently say that capturing the Southern Front will not be difficult."
It was, quite literally, a situation where a bloodless occupation was possible.
Whenever Jackson had hidden in the brush to observe their fortress walls, he couldn't help but chuckle dryly at the sight of guards dozing off or drinking.
Long ago, back when the Hector Kingdom was still considered a powerhouse, such complacency from Cairo would have been unthinkable. Back then, they guarded the border with the exact same tension as they did the Western Front. But as time passed and Hector lost its power, the Cairo Kingdom began to view them as no different from themselves.
Just another weak nation.
A place that wouldn't dare dream of invading, trembling in fear of foreign aggression every single day.
"Father, may I say a few words?"
There was one other man in the palace besides King Hector and Jackson.
A red-haired man.
It was Edwin Hector, the only son of King Hector.
"Speak."
"For the past five years, the Hector Kingdom has suffered unprecedented famine. The land has cracked and withered from drought, and on the rare days it looked like rain, violent winds swept in and destroyed whatever crops remained. Furthermore, the gold we borrowed from the Golden Bank to resolve these crises has returned as massive interest, suffocating us. The Hector Kingdom no longer has the strength to endure. The national treasury ran dry long ago. If we continue like this, we will lose our very identity as a kingdom."
"...I, too, am well aware of that."
King Hector wore a devastated expression.
The former kings.
They might have waged wars to achieve their grand dreams, but the consequences of their defeats were left entirely for their descendants to bear. King Hector was a victim of their hubris. Ever since he ascended the throne, the kingdom's situation had been dire, and his desperate struggles to keep the nation afloat had finally culminated in this current crisis.
People said the heavens were angry.
Watching his people collapse and weep upon the cracked, dry earth, he knew the time had come to make a decision.
Edwin spoke.
"Since our defeat against the Valhalla Empire, the Hector Kingdom has avoided war at all costs, determined never to repeat the same mistake. But things are different now. We live in the present, and we must do whatever it takes to save our despairing people. The defeat recorded in our history is not something we experienced. We have prepared extensively over the past year, and our opponent is not the Valhalla Empire, but the Cairo Kingdom. For the sake of our nation, you must make a decision."
War.
It was a word that could barely be uttered aloud.
While King Hector was evaluated as weak, he was also incredibly cautious.
That was why this had taken a whole year.
Once the proposal of war was raised, it required an immense amount of time before it could be discussed in earnest.
Is that man truly my son?
Edwin Hector.
He did not take after his father.
He was strong, having inherited the fierce bloodline of the once-mighty Hector royal family.
Looking into his son's eyes, which burned with ambition, King Hector spoke cautiously.
"...Are you confident?"
"Yes. If I weren't certain, I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place."
"I see."
Thud.
He stood up from his throne.
The Hector Kingdom had been pushed to the edge of a cliff.
Just as they say heroes are born in times of chaos, he believed Edwin's rise was an inevitable destiny.
"I entrust all authority regarding this war to you, Edwin Hector."
"Thank you, Father."
Finally, the Hector Kingdom had made its decision.
* * *
Around that time, the three-week training at the Southern Training Camp came to an end.
Standing before hundreds of trainees, Viscount Veil delivered a tedious speech for the completion ceremony.
"You have all worked hard. Unlike the Western Front, the Southern Front is not a place where battles occur daily. Once you are assigned to the reserve units, you will spend days that are far more tedious than you might expect, but you must never forget that you are soldiers sworn to defend the Cairo Kingdom. Carelessness invites disaster. I hope that your time on the Southern Front will be remembered as peaceful days."
It was a speech he repeated like a parrot every single time.
Viscount Veil concluded the ceremony with words he didn't mean in the slightest.
Immediately after the ceremony ended, he called Roman aside.
Just like during their first meeting, he served sweet coffee in the commanding officer's office and said with a benevolent smile, "Starting today, you will be assigned to the reserve unit of the Fifth Defense Line. You've probably heard what the other nobles say. It's a paradise that every noble entering the Southern Training Camp hopes to be assigned to, a place where you can live the most comfortable life possible despite the restrictions on your freedom as a soldier. And... ahem, I pulled a few strings using my connections to send you to the Fifth Defense Line."
Roman had heard the rumors.
In the shadows, the nobles practically sang praises of the Fifth Defense Line.
As it was famous for being the most comfortable spot on the Southern Front, it was nearly impossible to get assigned there without connections.
Viscount Veil usually only exerted his influence in exchange for a hefty price.
But this time, he was the one who needed to get on Roman's good side, and he couldn't rest until he made his favor explicitly known.
"Thank you."
"No need for thanks between us. I only did what was natural. As I told you before, I don't ask for much. I just want you to have a comfortable life at the Southern Training Camp, and later, when you become Marquis Benedict's man, to remember that a person named 'Viscount Veil Frank' once helped you. That is more than enough. So, if you ever need anything while staying on the Southern Front, feel free to contact me anytime. My position as the commander of the Southern Training Camp allows me to help with many things."
Viscount Veil chuckled warmly.
Roman simply nodded, bringing the insincere meeting to a close.
* * *
After Roman left the office, there was one more person looking for him.
It was McBurney.
The chief instructor of the Southern Training Camp spoke to Roman with an expression quite different from his usual stern demeanor.
"...Thank you for everything. To be honest, during my time managing the Southern Training Camp, I have never seen a noble show as much passion for training as you, Lord Roman Dmitry. Thanks to you, I realized what I am working for, and I believe I can teach the trainees with even greater passion in the future. And I prepared this, though it is modest, thinking it might be of some help."
The items McBurney handed over were a worn-out book and a map.
When Roman gave him an inquiring look, McBurney added an explanation.
"It contains compiled information on the Southern Front and its geographical features. In the highly unlikely event that a war breaks out on the Southern Front, this information will be necessary. Of course, spending your two years here in peace would be the best scenario. I, too, hope that you, Lord Roman Dmitry, will complete your service in good health."
"Thank you."
Roman accepted the gesture with a smile.
In that moment, McBurney's heart raced.
Deep down, he wanted to follow Roman.
To a former warrior like him, Roman Dmitry was a man worthy of dedicating his life to.
However...
A person like me would only be a hindrance.
He was a one-armed cripple.
He couldn't even swing a sword properly with his left hand.
Roman Dmitry was destined for greatness, and he already had outstanding talents like Chris and Kevin under him. There was no place for McBurney. If he couldn't pull his own weight, he would only be a burden, so he thought it was better to remain at the Southern Training Camp, where he could actively utilize his abilities.
And so, their conversation came to an end.
Roman turned to leave.
It was time to head to the reserve unit of the Fifth Defense Line. Once McBurney was out of sight, Roman pulled something from his chest pocket.
Lucas said he went through a lot of trouble to obtain this.
It was a map.
A map detailing the Southern Front.
It was remarkably similar to the one McBurney had just gifted him.
In truth, Roman already possessed the information McBurney had given him.
He had thoroughly analyzed the intelligence before coming to the Southern Front, so the gift wasn't particularly necessary.
Yet, he had smiled.
As if he were truly grateful.
Even so, he carefully tucked McBurney's map into his chest pocket alongside his own.
There was no special reason.
It was simply because of McBurney's sincerity.
Roman believed that pure goodwill was, in and of itself, worthy of respect.
* * *
The unit assignments were complete.
On the way to their respective units, Henry trudged along with weak, sluggish steps.
To think I have to move on my own two feet. Shouldn't they at least provide carriages for the nobles?
His feet ached.
Soft feet that had never known a day of hardship.
Traveling such a long distance on feet completely devoid of calluses left him sweating and parched. However, he couldn't complain and demand a carriage. While it wouldn't be impossible if he utilized Viscount Veil's connections, the problem was the single individual within his line of sight.
Roman Dmitry.
Seemingly untroubled by the situation, he was walking far ahead alongside the soldiers.
Sigh. How did my life turn out like this?
Last night, Viscount Veil had called Henry aside.
He had emphasized, once again, the words he had repeated countless times.
"Henry. I have specially assigned you to the reserve unit of the Fifth Defense Line, the same as Roman Dmitry. Over the next two years, you must form a close relationship with Roman Dmitry by any means necessary. Keep this in mind. This matter is of grave importance; my future depends on it. Even though you are my nephew, I will not forgive you if you fail to do this properly."
Henry felt dizzy just thinking about it.
Being assigned to the reserve unit of the Fifth Defense Line was excellent news.
If that had been all, he would have walked with a smile, but the thought of spending the next two years with Roman Dmitry irritated him to no end.
But what could he do?
Reality was already staring him in the face.
To get on Roman's good side even a fraction, Henry chose to suppress his thirst and walk alongside the soldiers instead of throwing a tantrum.
How long had they walked?
After traveling for what felt like an eternity, the group finally reached their destination.
However, the scene that greeted them was entirely different from what they had expected.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Emergency! Emergency!"
"Everyone, prepare for battle!"
Absolute chaos had broken out.
The emergency alarm blared, turning the base into a madhouse as panicked soldiers sprinted in every direction.
Even then, the new arrivals had no idea what was going on.
They wondered if it was a mock drill, but when an officer of the reserve unit rushed over and delivered the news, Henry's face turned deathly pale.
"All five defense lines of the Southern Front are currently under attack! The Hector Kingdom has declared war!"
War.
At that single word, Henry's heart sank.