Chapter 235
Chapter 235
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 235
Chapter Title: Throwing the Ember (1)
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Crows and hawks circled beneath the clear sky. They were the scavengers of old, the scabs forming over the wounds gouged by battle. Fernandez gazed down at the battlefield with a rather sentimental mood.
Far below the hills, black smoke rose in straight lines like threads from the pyres burning the dead. The war was ending as abruptly as it had begun. Up to this point, not far from Ravirata, they hadn't suffered a single defeat in combat.
-Clop, clop, clop.
A single horse approached him. A man wrapped in thick wool rode slowly against the wind. Soon, the man reined in beside Fernandez and looked down at the battlefield alongside him.
"Are you well?"
"You've had it rough."
Fernandez didn't turn to look at him. They'd already confirmed each other's safety from afar. When one mage entered another's domain, they synchronized the flow of their mana circuits to signal no hostility.
He slowly pushed back his hood. The elderly beastman grinned, baring black teeth.
"The beastkin tiger clans are voicing serious discontent. In this battle, and in the previous wars, haven't the imperial forces just preserved themselves?"
"And what do you want to do about it?"
"The clan heads are saying they won't fight in the next battle. Most of them command key sectors of the front lines, so desertions would be a major blow to our strength."
"Let them."
The beastkin had shed enough blood. Breaking their spirit entirely wasn't part of Fernandez's plan. They still had enemies to face in the not-too-distant future.
"We've dismantled Cherad's forces sufficiently so far, but we'll soon clash with Ravirata's main army. Do you think the imperial forces will have enough strength then?"
Partak's question was valid.
The imperial army showed no zeal for the war. Once casualties reached a certain point, they retreated without hesitation to focus on defense.
The long front line stretching from the eastern wilderness to the south had been held solely by Duke Erv and the beastkin tiger clans.
The forces they'd faced until now were Cherad's beastkin rebels under warlords, bolstered by a few undead legions. That allowed Fernandez, who could manipulate Cherad, to orchestrate easy victories.
But Cherad's troops were nearly depleted now, and Cherad himself, having outlived his usefulness, had been eliminated by Partak.
What remained was Ravirata's main force—a foe Duke Erv couldn't defeat alone.
"The imperial army will now take the offensive aggressively."
"Have you influenced the imperial nobles as well?"
"No need to dirty my hands just to prod those fools. They're already getting anxious."
* * *
Around that time, chaos reigned in the imperial nobles' tents.
The massive clash a day's ride from Ravirata had ended in a decisive imperial victory.
Cherad's beastkin forces had scattered in disarray after their command structure suddenly vanished.
The rival great clan head had gone missing. Likely assassinated. Naturally, Ravirata had tried to crush the resulting confusion with force.
It was a blunder. The beastkin under her, coerced by her harsh policies, now believed she was the one who assassinated their leader.
The enemy's internal strife was intensifying.
Ravirata's main army remained intact. She'd fortified extensive defenses around her palace. But that meant abandoning all territory outside it. And the great wilderness now was not the barren waste of old—it was fertile plains.
"Our supply lines are secure, and forward bases are springing up one by one nearby. Imperial banners fly across the vast lands from the eastern plains to the south!"
"Who doesn't know that? What we're wondering is why the hell we're winning!"
The imperial command was in turmoil too.
Their tactical doctrine was retreat with minimal losses, leaving the inevitable attrition of withdrawal to the beastkin and the duke.
Thus, the imperial army had shown no aggression, merely holding position before eyeing retreats.
"Duke Erv's military achievements are already overwhelming. We haven't even had a chance to act! Tell me—what the hell is going on?"
"Do we have reason to blame each other? Shouldn't we be pondering why that fool Erv even requested central support for a war he could win on his own?"
Guir's Blazing Citadel Knight Commander, Everard, spoke coldly. Silence fell over the gathering.
'This can't be coincidence. The enemy's forces were clearly weaker than initial scouts reported—no need to divert the central army's full strength to the west. The duke could have handled Livye and sorted the beastkin with his own troops.'
If that was true... Everard groaned softly and wet his throat with his goblet. He set it down slowly and spoke.
"You said supply routes are stable?"
"Of course!"
Donat, senior fiscal officer of the imperial central quartermaster corps overseeing frontline logistics, replied. He started to shout that he wouldn't tolerate doubts about his work, then paled and shut his mouth.
Everard shook his head.
"The supply lines are secured through local trade, right?"
"...Yes."
"And all that trade is happening in Livye and the surrounding territories?"
"Correct."
"Damn it. It's a trap."
Everard rubbed his forehead and grumbled.
"It was to revitalize Livye's economy, using the center."
"But why...? If Duke Erv isn't an idiot, why pull such a simple stunt...? Did he think we'd just withdraw peacefully after the war?"
"Then what? Attack Duke Erv now? On what grounds? He's racked up more military merit in this war than anyone. His name has spread across the entire western electorates, beyond just Livye."
If the emperor attacked Livye now, would the other electors sit idly? Probably not.
The electors thought there were too many elector positions in the empire already. But... strictly speaking, the imperial house itself was an 'elector.'
Pressuring booming Guir, with its revitalized trade routes to the eastern kingdoms and golden age, would yield more profit than checking a barely risen Livye.
"This damned... Whose idea was this?"
"Duke Erv's scheme..."
"If it was that bear of a man's cunning, there's no reason to do it now, and he lacks the finesse for such subtlety anyway. Just months ago, he couldn't even hold the loyalty of his court and border nobles."
Who? Not a plot with other electors—that would've been noticed by the emperor. But even more terrifying was orchestrating a board where electors reacted without direct contact.
'Not the beastkin. They couldn't grasp imperial politics. Not the duke either. If he could, he'd have acted before Livye fell.'
Everard stroked his chin, deep in thought. Then Bernard slammed down his goblet and spoke.
"Who the schemer is doesn't matter now, does it? We need to see we've fallen into Duke Erv's trap first. What now? Retreat?"
"No, Baron Bernard, retreat won't do. His Majesty needs victory."
The imperial prestige had plummeted after fifty years of war attrition. With the emperor needing personal glory, retreating before Ravirata would mean all their heads rolling in the palace courtyard.
Ravirata's fall had to be by imperial hands. Everard would play along this far. He closed his eyes tightly and said.
"To take Ravirata, we must all commit fully. Fortunately, the duke and beastkin took heavy losses in prior battles. No matter how weak the enemy, they won't outshine our main force's feats."
"What after occupying Ravirata?"
"We assassinate the duke."
"...The duke?!"
Shock rippled through the tent. No matter how fallen, and how exalted central nobles' authority, a duke was an elector—right below the emperor.
It wasn't mere rebellion. Assassination was un-noble conduct... and if exposed, no clean end.
Rumors of central nobles attempting to assassinate an elector would have others deposing the emperor on the spot.
"Isn't that risky?"
"If the war ends like this and we withdraw quietly, we're dead. His Majesty needs 'certain' military glory."
"Urgh..."
Dividing conquests as fiefs would give Livye and beastkin clans over half this vast wilderness.
Exhaust troops, forfeit gains, then withdraw? The emperor wouldn't let them live.
"Baron, didn't you say IronSides are lurking somewhere in this camp? Why not contact them to plan the duke's assassination?"
"Understood. I'll do that."
IronSides were masters of assassination and sabotage. The nobles' faces brightened. Bernard nodded gravely and declared the meeting adjourned.
* * *
Ignoring Partak's blank stare, Fernandez watched crows pecking at a dead soldier's corpse.
"The imperial nobles' greed is infamous. Their instinct for profit is beastly. No need for me to intervene—they'll speculate, scheme, and advance on their own."
"If they aggressively target Ravirata and claim the southern wilderness, wouldn't that be tragic for us too?"
"Worried about the beastkin tiger clans' welfare now?"
"They're my subordinates, after all. Losing those useless beasts would mean losing assets."
"Haha."
Partak was more entwined with the beastkin tiger alliance than expected. Not bad.
Fernandez nodded readily.
Be it dominion or avarice. They wouldn't make choices harming tiger clan futures—like pacting with devils.
Redemption of sorts? Not his favorite word, but Partak had lost much of his old venom.
"The imperial nobles will likely think this: since battles have been winnable with just Erv and the clans, maybe that's why they were called."
"..."
"Drunk on victories, they'll see Ravirata as mere warlord rabble. They won't relish handing merits to Erv. Reasonable guess—even an idiot could make it."
Fernandez turned his gaze to the camps sprawled below the hills. Legions were regrouping and reorganizing after the battle.
"They think everyone reasons like them. They set standards by their own logic. So, how do they view Duke Erv?"
"Probably that he's securing battles and supply lines for his duchy’s growth."
"Exactly. So what will they do next?"
"Even after the war ends, they lack pretext to strike the duke directly. They'll seek other means."
Fernandez nodded. Partak's cunning pleased him. The guy who'd schemed in beastkin politics now thought like imperial nobles.
Quick learner. Perhaps survival instinct. Black mages infiltrating society died if they didn't adapt.
"Right. They have two options left: assassinate the duke or sway him."
"Either way, my lord will strike the imperial army."
"Yes. The forces spent fighting Ravirata can't stop the beastkin clans."
Fernandez turned his horse toward the camp. Partak followed. His demeanor was even more deferential. As they rode, Fernandez said.
"Tell your subordinates: no more blood needs spilling. Pull all forces to the rear and attack the imperial army the moment the war ends."
"What of Duke Erv?"
"The duke will become a hero. Heroes need villains to be born. The imperials will summon demons."
Fernandez chuckled dryly. From this battle, the duke would claim independence. Birth of the Karvelier dynasty. That would provoke the electors—for better or worse.
And that flow would soon be in his hands. Northern Guir. Where Karvelier's lady and Prince Robert headed. And eastern Dane.
The empire would crumble. Then be rebuilt anew.
"Will we stop at establishing sovereignty over the wilderness?"
Partak meant: no greater gains?
With sultan and emperor tacitly ceding the wastes, the wilderness fell to beastkin. Strictly, this war forced their blood for Fernandez's needs.
Fernandez chuckled at the boldness. He liked it.
"Burn the empire."
"...Pardon?"
"The empire's fracture is imminent. Electors will strike each other, blind to true foes. Some warlords will raise banners to expand amid chaos. War gives endless pretexts. Burn the empire, claim its lands and castles."
Since resolving the north, Fernandez no longer planned for greater demon intervention.
From past life knowledge, the biggest event left was the great invasion from distant southwestern plains.
Great Khan Karads Kar's northbound march was at least twenty years away. Originally tied to Eric's invasion, civilization's chaos and decline should ensue—but it ended in shadows, society recovering swiftly.
Stronger civilization benefited him. But those fattening in peace corrupted themselves. Future shifts birthed unwelcome cracks.
Before greater catastrophes, unforeseen disasters, righteous heroes' falls. To excise rot, chaos was needed. Chaos forged heroes in its furnace. There, past life's greats would rise.
Three greater demons remained. Their invasions predictable in order and time, but variables lingered. He couldn't handle all alone.
"If peaceful world is the problem, stir chaos and rule it."
If heroes fell to peace, chaos would birth them. In forging chaos, from past life to now, Feizashi excelled above all.
* * *