Civil Servant Marygold. (7)
15. "So peaceful."
The evening was so quiet it made the battlefield seem like a misnomer, with only the chirping of crickets filling the tranquil air. Lancel wondered when he'd last lain back and relaxed like this without a care in the world. He almost admired himself for how much he'd endured lately. He made a resolution. If a couple more loops passed and the regressions kept coming, this time he'd take a proper vacation. Marygold? He could just tuck the girl away somewhere safe for a bit. Then he'd grab a pile of cash, bolt, and spend a full ten years enjoying himself solo before coming back. Yeah. This time, he'd go have fun alone. Don't take it too hard, Marygold. He'd buy souvenirs. They'd share them and spend the last day before regression together. Lancel had that much heart.
I've gotta rest when it's time to rest.
With that thought, Lancel shifted his gaze downward. Marygold was nestled in his arms. They were alone in the dim cave, just the two of them.
16.
Fallen Lady Simulation
Creating the schedule for the 2nd week of October.
Mon - March.
Tue - March.
Wed - March.
Thu - Infiltrate enemy outpost.
Fri - Secure enemy outpost.
Sat - Build temporary camp.
Sun - Rest.
(Location: Temporary camp)
※ Victories are sweet, but how nice it would be to wash up clean. I hope the war ends before winter comes!
Four months.
That was how long it took the 5th Prince's army to mop up the remnants scattered across the western empire. He led his forces like a man on a mission, pushing beyond Runter County into the neighboring territories, rooting them out like rats. Anything that caught his eye, he smashed flat.
"With this, we've cleaned out every last one of those pests in the area! It's a fine day, so let's hold a feast. Bring out all the stockpiled supplies. You lot need to taste what liquor's like on the battlefield."
Once he released the rations he'd hoarded so stingily, the camp erupted into revelry. Around every campfire, the surviving soldiers huddled, stuffing themselves with greasy food and tipping back drinks. It was a festival.
The infantry unit that had started with about 300 men was down to around 250, holding the line. And the 30 knights under the 5th Prince? Not a single injury or casualty. A resounding victory.
Something's off.
Lancel sat stone-faced amid the festivities, chewing on a slice of raw ham as he scanned the camp repeatedly.
It's going too smoothly.
Aside from the 5th Prince's occasional attempts to cozy up to Marygold, everything had unfolded without a hitch. Even with Marygold's tactical prowess and the imperial support force's strength, this level of ease felt unnatural. The Runter County he remembered was a far bloodier battlefield. It couldn't end this cleanly. And above all, he hadn't even laid eyes on Count Runter himself.
Is it just lax this loop? Or...
"Uha!"
Lancel wrinkled his nose at the sudden whiff of booze right beside him.
"Mary Supervisor?"
"Sir Lancel, this is my first time trying it, but it feels pretty good, uhihihihi!"
"...Already drunk?"
Marygold's face was flushed red, her eyes glazed over, clutching a bottle to her chest. Come to think of it, Lancel rarely saw her touch alcohol. Even after growing up, she'd kept her distance from it.
"Puhuuu...."
"You reek of booze."
Lancel tried to push away Marygold, who was plastered to him, sighing nonstop into his face.
"Get off."
"Eeeeek!"
It wasn't easy with her clinging so desperately.
"Sir Lancel, I'll pour for you too, so bring your cup quick. Come on."
"Pass."
"You can't refuse! Here!"
Was this the office drunk type? Marygold snatched Lancel's cup and filled it to the brim. She didn't stop there, forcing it to his lips half-coercively.
"Drink up! All the way."
"..."
"All the way."
With no choice, Lancel downed it. A sweet aroma filled his nostrils. Expecting cheap swill, he was surprised by the quality and drained every drop.
"Good job, Sir Lancel. Another?"
"Mary Supervisor. That's drunken nonsense. Fix it now or it'll become a habit."
"Drunken... nonsense... what's that?"
"What you're doing right now."
"Oh. Sounds fun?"
Marygold grinned vacantly and poured again. Lancel accepted that one, then shoved his cup far away.
"Ahh! I was just gonna pour one more! Three's the rule."
"No such rule. I've had plenty; you drink."
"Boo, you're no fun."
Marygold knocked back three or four more in quick succession, then stripped off her outer coat.
"Uha, hot, so hot! Winter's almost here—why's it so damn hot, Sir Lancel?!"
"...Mary Supervisor, put your clothes back on."
"Eh?"
He felt the soldiers' eyes converging. Marygold was the sole woman in this battlefield. After months surrounded by men, their gazes were at a breaking point. Even a princess would draw stares in a prolonged war; a mere supervisor like her was doomed.
Lancel draped her discarded coat back on her.
"Strip again, and I'll lock your armor shut."
With that threat.
"...But it's hot...."
Marygold pouted but complied. Lancel threw a cloak over her too, and only then did the stares finally scatter. It was for the soldiers' sake as much as hers. No sense keeping them up all night.
"Looks like Mary Supervisor can't hold her liquor."
The 5th Prince approached with a smirk.
"Fine stuff. Don't waste it on the ground—get it all down your throat, Mary Supervisor."
Lancel took the bottle from her at his words. It was indeed too precious for battlefield carry.
This is...
Pineapple-scented liquor. Lancel recalled seeing it not long ago.
Same as the stuff from Count Runter's territory?
No wonder they'd stockpiled so much; it had trickled all the way here. Unlike grain, well-made liquor fetched high prices, converted easily to cash, and kept well. Perfect for a rebel dreamer like Count Runter. Even if it ended up at an imperial feast.
"Sir Lancel. Woo woo."
"What're you doing, Mary Supervisor."
Lancel blocked Marygold as she suddenly puckered up and leaned in.
"Woo woo... wuup!"
Her expression turned grave mid-lunge, her face paling fast.
"Ah."
Lancel swiftly spun her around.
"Urpweeeeck!"
"..."
Nice show, Marygold. The soldiers' lingering gazes vanished in an instant.
"Wasted all the precious supplies on dirt, Mary Supervisor."
Even the 5th Prince chimed in.
17. "Ugh, Sir Lancel. My stomach hurts."
"You should've thought of that before chugging like an idiot."
"Urk...."
Lancel shook his head at Marygold sprawled in the supply wagon. Her fingers were ice-cold from the hangover. Good thing the war was over; mid-campaign, he'd have had to carry her. The other soldiers fared little better, their faces etched with exhaustion after drowning in booze before marching.
The only ones fresh were the 5th Prince and his knights, who hadn't touched a drop.
"Urk."
As Marygold dry-heaved.
People.
Lancel halted his horse, sensing presences beyond the dense woods.
"Halt."
The column froze at his command.
"What is it, Lancel?"
"Ambush."
The footsteps from the woods grew louder. Lancel knew it wasn't just a few—over a dozen, at least.
"Ambush?"
The 5th Prince's lips curved.
"No, allies."
Lancel recognized them instantly, starting with the elderly knight leading them.
"We've been waiting, Your Highness."
"Count Runter. No need to greet us yourself. Looks like your side's wrapped up too?"
"Just a bit of cleanup after Your Highness's work. Nothing difficult."
"Good job regardless."
The 5th Prince and Count Runter chatted amiably.
"Changing march direction now. We'll head to Count Runter's territory to rest. Spread the word."
How do I handle this?
Running into the rebels.
Honestly, he wanted no part of it. Too unpredictable. He'd bolt right now if he could. Bad vibes.
The problem was.
"Ugh, let me down anywhere to rest. My stomach... urk... it's killing me."
"..."
Lancel sighed at Marygold's dying-moan voice.
Gotta bail when the chance comes.
A armored man rode up then, flipping up his helmet visor to reveal a familiar face.
"Long time no see, Sir Lancel."
Adelhart, Count Runter's son. Years had hardened him; his armor was scratched from prolonged combat.
"Don't recognize you."
"Thanks to the lessons from you, Sir Lancel."
Flattery? Hardly.
"Won't lose twice, Sir Lancel."
"..."
Lancel found Adelhart's gleaming eyes a tad unsettling.
* * *
"We'll take the lead, Your Highness."
Even navigating the rugged valley, the 5th Prince and Count Runter's conversation continued.
"War's fun in short bursts, but months without a break? Getting tiresome. And this is just the start—if I'm already fed up, the future worries me."
"You'll get used to it soon, Your Highness."
"Hope so. Speaking of, Count Runter—see that wagon back there? Mary Supervisor's in it."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I know she's on bad terms with your lot, but she's good talent. Protect her well, no harm done."
"If she pleases Your Highness, consider it done."
Lancel rubbed his face listening in.
They're in cahoots?
He'd thought the 5th Prince chose to be the empire's hero this time. All that bandit-hunting, rebel-crushing, outsider-purging—for the empire. Wrong.
Clearing the west... was just good news for Count Runter?
Half a year of war had wiped the region clean: bandits, armies, mercenaries, militias. All gone. Except Count Runter. And future rebels, say.
Like the hundreds of cavalry now blocking the column.
"Who goes there!"
Twice the imperial support force's number, spears and swords at ready, advancing steadily.
The 5th Prince showed no alarm. Tacit approval.
"Good work, all. Remember last night's feast as my final send-off. When this empire falls into my hands, I'll leave statues in your memory."
Lancel snorted. The 5th Prince chose throne-usurper again. Hand-in-hand with Count Runter.
"Mary."
"...Sir Lancel?"
Without hesitation, Lancel approached the slumped Marygold in the wagon.
"Let's bounce."
"Huh? Eek!"
He hoisted her over his shoulder.
"E-enemy! Enemy attack!"
Shouts erupted as the two forces clashed. The valley turned battlefield in seconds.
"Kwaaaak!"
"B-block them!"
"Hiiik!"
After-party hangover, unprepared for fight, plus the 5th Prince's complicity. Soldiers dropped like flies. Like discarded hounds after the hunt. Predictable. To the budding rebels, the imperial troops were just obstacles.
"Hold tight, Mary."
"I-I—my st-stomach's... urpweeeeck!"
Lancel spurred forward with the retching Marygold in front.
"Catch them!"
"Don't let one escape!"
"There! Someone breaking out!"
Battlefield. Dying soldiers. Pursuing cavalry.
"Urpweeeeck!"
And Marygold's heaves.
Utter chaos.