A Festival More Terrifying Than War (2)

No matter how many of them there were, I had no intention of bringing only mages.

A mage was the emperor of the battlefield. Supporting one required a host of other troop types marching alongside them.

There had to be the escort detail that covered them while they chanted, the archers who sealed off every angle the magic had not yet reached, the heavy cavalry that acted as the hammer once the enemy ranks were shattered by the spell, and even the medics who kept the casters from collapsing into mana exhaustion.

In ordinary times, an entire unit was needed simply to keep a single mage in the fight.

I scaled the formation down a little because the kingdom already has far too many mages to follow the textbook version, but even so the scale is still enormous.

On the day more than five hundred mages first gathered at the assembly point, I rode a griffin whose neck was bound with the queen’s own insignia and felt, for the first time, a flicker of worry that I might have set the stage far too large.

“Is this too many?”

“Not at all! This much is the bare minimum if we’re going to properly display the dignity of the Principal—no, of His Excellency the Chancellor!”

“...Cerise, you can still just call me Principal like before.”

“Ah—thank you!”

For the record, the woman who had boldly claimed the front seat of the queen’s griffin was none other than Cerise, proud valedictorian of the first class of Beynos Magic Academy.

Now that I think of it, her path to a clean graduation had been anything but smooth.

Who would have thought her ranking would plummet the moment I stepped down as principal.

I had handed the principal’s chair over to Perez right after Cerise finished her fourth-year final exams—the last term of her graduating year. Until that moment she had taken first place in every single examination and worn a path straight to the principal’s office.

The first time she earned top marks she had been content with a single dinner at the fancy restaurant in front of the school. But as the private meetings piled up, her “wishes” grew steadily more ambitious.

They never became financially unreasonable, yet they started edging into rather personal territory.

After the midterms of her fourth-year first semester she begged and wheedled until she turned a simple amusement-park outing into a zoo “date,” and for the finals she politely requested a home visit. When I drew the line at that, she instantly pivoted and invited me to her house instead—with a smoothness that could only be called artistry.

Come on, there are so many things a principal can actually grant with his authority.

When I casually asked whether she had heard anything from the student council, she claimed she couldn’t remember. Anna, the student council president, must have been grinding her teeth over the whole affair.

Well, a top student’s wish is her own business.

In the end I granted the home visit she had wanted so badly. Refusing even that would have made the word “wish” meaningless, and it was going to be my last interview as principal anyway.

She’ll make more practical requests of Perez.

Once the strict supervisor was gone, he would surely listen to the student council as well. With that easy assumption I stepped down.

Cerise’s grades began their freefall the very next day.

Strictly speaking I could have ignored it. Study and training were a student’s own responsibility; the consequences were theirs to bear.

But when Anna requested an interview with Perez and used her wish to beg him to let Cerise meet me again, I could no longer sit still.

Just how bad has it gotten that her friend is going this far?

The scores I finally saw were pure shock. A genius who had claimed first place three exams in a row was now failing to clear the absolute minimum cutoff and was on the verge of not graduating at all.

The moment her goal vanished, a brutal burnout had crashed over her.

So I granted Anna’s wish and faced Cerise once more. I promised that if she took first place on the final graduation exam, I would hire her as my secretary on the spot.

I had intended to do that from the day I first checked her mana potential with the Ring of Insight. I simply moved the timeline forward because I could not bear to watch such monstrous talent go to waste.

And after that day, Cerise awakened as if a switch had been flipped.

Perfect scores in every subject. There was no need to discuss rankings; she simply answered every single question correctly. The graduation exam was designed so that the previous year’s top student had scored around sixty—almost entirely ultra-high-difficulty practical trials—making the result even more staggering.

Especially the moment her formula tangled and she simply invented an entirely new computational equation on the spot. That was the highlight.

I had attended that highest-level examination as an honored guest. The problem required drinking diluted ogre blood, then solving a mana cube while one’s head spun from induced madness. It demanded extreme focus and control; I had planned to award full marks for even a single face solved correctly.

Cerise’s eyes went bloodshot, yet she ignored the fever completely, shattered the enormous polygonal cube in its entirety, and then dispelled the madness from herself as an afterthought.

Truly marvelous.

Having turned every classmate into a fool, she simply turned to me with a look of pure relief. Her eyes were clear and fierce—eyes that would not accept refusal.

Thus, the moment the graduation ceremony ended, Cerise became my personal secretary and began trailing after me everywhere.

“The weather is so wonderful once we’re this high up, Principal!”

She looked happier than anyone else alive.

“It’s so nice, heehee. Hic!”

A little... terrifyingly so.

I had originally planned to ride with Caren.

The argument that it was far too dangerous for the queen herself to ride ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a griffin had shot the idea down. Then why do we even keep ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a royal griffin? Just to increase zoo attendance?

Everyone is far too dramatic.

I understood the concern, but it was excessive. They hemmed her in so tightly she could barely do anything.

Of course, that also speaks to how vital Caren’s presence has become to the kingdom.

In the old days when kings changed every month, I would never even have thought to complain like this. Viewed that way, it was the griping of a man who had grown too comfortable.

“...Principal, the thirty minutes are up.”

“Right. Let’s go down. Going down~”

“Sh-shall I try a leap spell? If I do it well we might even be able to run away.”

“Don’t you dare. What is this, an elopement?”

“An elopement... heehee...”

Ah, now she’s at it too?

It was already a shame that this refreshing flight had lasted only thirty minutes, and now the person nestled in my arms was acting strange as well.

Still, for all my grumbling, the experience really had been invigorating.

“Her Majesty has issued the proclamation.”

“So it’s begun.”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Caren had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠finally drawn the blade.

She had declared that she would tour the entire kingdom in person and reconfirm the oaths of loyalty from every lord. That “reconfirmation” would include a ceremony in which she proclaimed the sovereign’s absolute right over national defense and personally received the command of their private armies.

It’s written right in the proclamation, so the provincial lords can’t possibly claim ignorance.

Heralds had already been dispatched to every corner; the text had been placed directly under their noses. Even if they wanted to look away, it was impossible.

Word of the queen’s impending visit would already have reached every corner of the realm.

...At least among the lords.

There will be those who try to silence the messengers somehow.

Those ones I intended to go and drag down myself—by thoroughly peaceful and festive means.

And so the queen’s first destination was the territory of Viscount Theodore, whose lands sat just north of the capital. Even though it lay right beside the royal capital and needed no herald at all, intelligence reports that he was still maintaining private troops had decided the matter.

He doesn’t want to hand them over to the central army. Either he’s stalling for time, or he has some other scheme cooking.

Either way, the only solution was to go in person.

I rode beside the queen’s carriage without a weapon in hand.

“Load every weapon onto the carts and remove your armor. But keep the carts within arm’s reach.”

“W-we’re really taking off the armor?”

“Yes. We brought weapons only as a precaution. We are not going there to fight.”

Quite the opposite, in fact.

We were going to throw a festival announcing the queen’s progress, to distribute relief to the poor, and to listen with our own ears to the voices of her loyal subjects. The reaffirmation of vassal loyalty would be merely one scene within the larger celebration.

To some people, of course, that one scene would be everything.

“Her eyes of wisdom pierce every deception~ Her gentle smile soothes every sorrow~”

Instead of armor the soldiers had donned brightly dyed tunics and gowns and begun singing the queen’s processional. Even with the empire’s economy improved, most soldiers were still poor farmers. At most they owned one or two such splendidly dyed garments at home.

Yet they had willingly brought out those precious clothes and put them on—so they could stand beside their queen looking their very best.

“Advance! O Queen of radiant glory! Merciful sovereign who holds the hearts of all her people!”

The song climbed toward its climax. At the same moment fireworks burst and colored confetti swirled through the air from every direction.

A thunderous trumpet fanfare crowned the coda. Thus the largest and most splendid parade in the history of the kingdom arrived at its first destination—directly before Viscount Theodore’s keep, which radiated a strangely chilly atmosphere.

“Her Majesty the Queen has arrived in person! She wishes to share this joy with the people of the territory—open the gates at once!”

A herald spurred forward at a gallop and roared toward the battlements until his voice cracked. A moment later the gates swung open.

Without the slightest resistance. Without a single protest. With almost pathetic ease.