Chapter 312
Chapter 312
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 312
Chapter Title: Puppet Masters' War (9)
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The conversation with the Sultan dragged on longer than expected. Fernandez wasn't the type to enjoy lengthy talks, but with nothing else to do but devise strategies and discuss future plans, he was humoring the Sultan's curiosity.
"So, to sum it up, your type is a demure woman who gets the milk temperature just right?"
"If you narrow it down that much, I suppose you could say so."
"No, that's spot on. That's an important matter. Haha!"
Al Hashir burst into roaring laughter as if he'd heard the funniest story. Before long, he was guzzling straight from the bottle.
"So, one of the three?"
"The three... you mean?"
"Those exotic beauties you travel with. All from different lands, different looks. Truly dazzling wives, aren't they?"
Even then, Fernandez struggled to find a glib response. Which of the three?
Abel understood his situation and state most accurately and supported him wholeheartedly.
Kirhas had been with him the longest in this era, loyal to him with utmost sincerity—even bearing his child.
Freya? Out of the question. She was more than half a friend now. She probably didn't feel any rational affection toward him either. It was just that she found it fun to stick around.
But the conversation he'd just had with the Sultan... had been about Aria.
"None of the three."
"What...?!"
"My first... wife isn't one of those three."
-Just say you're the Sultan.
Feizashi shook his head with a tsk. When one thought of the Kirjat Sultan, the first image was the harem palace filled with concubines. Unlike the civilized nations of the eastern continent, the western bloc nations were open about romantic relations.
Whether the Sultan was male or female. They all built secret palaces to house their consorts. Outsiders called it the Haram-i Humayun. In eastern terms, it meant 'territory forbidden to men other than the Sultan.'
As Feizashi said, it was a tangled web incomprehensible to anyone not from Kirjat. The Sultan stroked his chin for a moment, gazing at Fernandez.
"Were your parents perhaps from Kirjat?"
"Probably not."
"You look perfectly eastern otherwise... Hmm."
-Tell him quick. You're actually a priest.
'Shut up.'
-No, why? It's the truth?
Ignoring Feizashi's endless jabs, Fernandez downed the liquor the Sultan had gifted him. It tasted bitter.
"Great Lord, the one and only sun of the empire that never sets—."
"Keep it short!"
Just then, a hoarse voice from the guard beyond the tent flap rang out. That endless string of titles was tiresome to even hear. Especially for someone like him who valued efficiency.
At the Sultan's words, the guard flinched and continued.
"Kirhas, vassal of Lord Cerned, seeks an audience!"
"Oh? Haha. Perfect timing. Isn't it, Lord Cerned?"
"......Yes, Sultan."
"Let's ask her too! Enter!!"
Soon, the flap parted, and Kirhas stepped in. She paused, stunned by the extravagantly luxurious field tent she was seeing for the first time.
Coming from the Great Steppe, she could scarcely imagine a mere field tent decked out in such opulence—not even a palace.
-Face, control your face?
'What?'
Unthinkingly, Fernandez touched his lips and cheeks at Feizashi's words. The Sultan guffawed at the sight.
"You two have great marital harmony! A joy to behold. Haha! Come, catfolk girl. I had a question burning in me."
"Y-Yes...? Yes?"
Kirhas looked flustered by the Sultan's sudden address. Her tail twitched as she bowed her head.
"How did you melt this stone of a man? If there's a secret, I'd love to share it with my vassals' ladies too."
"I... um... yes?"
"Hahaha!"
'What was my face like?'
-Ugly as hell. Made you look every bit your body's age.
Telling a twenty-year-old they look twenty is a compliment. But saying it to an eighty-year-old? It no longer felt like praise. And it probably wasn't meant as one anyway.
Fernandez scowled and turned away. Kirhas flinched at the sight, then stammered on.
"Sultan, my subordinates brought urgent news from the eastern continent. As time is of the essence, I took the liberty of coming myself."
"Hm? What's that? Speak freely."
"The eastern continent burns at the hands of the Sultan's enemies. Confirmed reports indicate a vast front from the entire Great Steppe to Livye."
"Oh, the Empire? Haha. Lord Cerned. This is...?"
"Yes, Sultan. Things are proceeding as planned."
"Truly astonishing. If I had even half your talent under me, my tasks would be twice as easy!"
To Kirhas, this was top-priority intelligence. She'd wanted to relay it to Fernandez alone, but if it secured the Sultan's support, there was no need to hide it.
Yet their reactions defied all her expectations. Shouldn't they be flustered, shocked, indifferent, or at least anxious?
The moment she'd thought they were overestimating the enemy's capabilities, it proved an underestimate. Karadskarr's forces could wage multifront wars across nearly every contact point with continental civilization—and still have reserves.
How could the lord of this densely packed region's front remain so utterly calm?
-Tch.
Then, a hand rested on the ear of the twitching, bewildered Kirhas. A familiar warmth and touch. Fernandez. He whispered softly.
"Don't worry, Kirhas."
"M-My lord? But you know? Their numbers... Just the confirmed ones exceed two hundred thousand!"
A perfectly valid concern. Fernandez nodded. Two hundred thousand. Even if all infantry, an immense force impossible to ignore.
The total population of the Hundred Ghost Demon Tribes amounted to a couple of small eastern kingdoms. Their harsh environment and culture meant insufficient numbers relative to territory.
Yet a typical nation's maximum mobilizable force was 5% of the whole. A figure derived after selecting only those able to sustain war while maintaining state functions.
'Well, on the brink of doom, nearly everyone was conscripted.'
That was pure desperation—fight or perish. In normal inter-state wars, extracting ten thousand from a city of five hundred thousand was impressive.
Non-combatants for arms, logistics, rations, and management required three times that number. And to fund the war without halting urban functions, another tenfold in industry due to population shortages.
Hence, 5%. Exceed it, and the state collapses.
'But Karadskarr doesn't consider such things.'
Not unaware. Simply ignores them. He armed every able-bodied soul and threw the rest into support roles.
A structure that couldn't sustain a state to begin with. Yet one thing made it possible.
'Win every battle, plunder resources from each victory to prepare for the next.'
Hence the blitzkrieg. If plunder outpaces consumption, Karadskarr's legions could project denser forces than any continental military power.
"Yes. Lady Kirhas—may I call you that?"
"As you wish, Sultan."
"Your lord is right. No need for worry. All proceeds as planned."
"But, Sultan. If the Empire falls to flames... you'll face the enemy alone, without external aid!"
"Do I seem incapable?"
"I'm no mere dancer, Sultan. I am the chieftain of every tribe that once truly dominated the Great Steppe as you so desired."
Kirhas raised her head. Beyond her liege-vassal bond with Fernandez, she now addressed the allied nation's leader as Great Chieftain.
"So, speaking plainly without ceremony: Yes, Kirjat lacks the power to stand alone against the approaching foe."
"Like lord, like vassal. Hahaha!"
Al Hashir laughed heartily, unoffended by Kirhas's seemingly rude demeanor. He nodded and continued.
"As king to king, I'll speak freely too. No offense, Kirhas of the Steppe. I already knew your identity."
"I figured as much. Shaksisi intelligence isn't that dull."
"And from the start... No... Your lord and I aimed for this very moment."
"......Pardon?"
"Expect us to fight all wars in Kirjat with outside help? What king would agree to that? Naturally, if they ignite the blaze, it must spread across the entire steppe."
Al Hashir, the era's mightiest civilized warlord. He grinned ferally, never losing his smile.
"We lured them toward the Steppe to scatter their forces. Sorry, Kirhas of the Steppe. You'll have to bear some losses."
"......My lord?"
"Kirhas. They have a weakness."
Stroking the bewildered Kirhas slowly, Fernandez continued unhurriedly.
"Their combat prowess is nothing to underestimate, but most of their reported forces are phantoms."
"......Yes?"
Troops cut off from supply lose combat ability swiftly. Basic knowledge.
The longer the supply line, the exponentially greater the logistics demand per area. Common sense.
And Karadskarr.
Could secure supplies only through plunder.
An overwhelming calamity exceeding two hundred thousand—all cavalry.
Devouring five cities in a day, twice that the next. A storm.
Not fast.
Unable to stop.
"So, to douse the wildfire, we use counterfire."
"That was your lord's and my stratagem, Kirhas. Operation name..."
"Backburn."
Not mere scorched earth. They'd charge faster than we could burn and retreat.
First, disperse their forces. To the Steppe, eastern kingdoms, Empire, Kirjat.
Each extension doubles the pressure. They must plunder occupation zones for supplies.
Their hubs: five merchant cities around Kirjat's outskirts. Divvying up plundered goods from those cities and domains to the entire host.
Expeditionary forces north of the Steppe lack supply network capacity yet. The Steppe is grassy wasteland; east to kingdom alliance, north to Empire's fertile lands, lie hurdles.
Steppe Shield, Livye.
Mumto's Conclave. Ravirata of the Wraith Legions.
"Where do you think they hit first after crossing the Steppe?"
"Livye's closest, right?"
"Bulang first."
"......Pardon?"
"Livye's imperial domain. Far from weakly garrisoned now. The issue? It's a military hub."
Meaning, as Al Hashir picked up,
"No self-sufficient food production."
"Right. That's why Livye impoverished so post-Fifty Years' War."
Livye's revival relied on steppe war materiel trade. Cut off, assets drained fast.
Now? Pre-Karadskarr, Steppe safer than ever. Livye remains poor. Half a year into Rene Philippe's reign.
And Ravirata...
"They didn't seize Ravirata en route to the Steppe."
"Then...?"
"Ravirata sealed its gates; they deliberately bypassed her. Why siege a skull-filled desert tomb for an army short on supplies, food, and time?"
Ignore Ravirata, torch Steppe, skirt Livye. Above...
"Hold Bulang once. That's it, Kirhas. Choke their breath just once."
Backburn. Kirjat's Rahot Fortress, five outer cities, Ravirata, eastern alliance expeditionaries.
All civilizations counter the flames in their domains, their ways.
Karadskarr. Great Scar. Cover with greater burn.
This calamity we can stop. We will. We must.
'Survive this, and civilization faces no tangible threats.'
Erik dead, two of five archfiends slain, one sealed.
Elven royals united as human allies, north stabilized.
All prior life's threats now controlled variables. Only Karadskarr remains.