Chapter 2: To Rebel or Accede

8 lieue (35 km) from Fort Sierck lay the northern town of Theonveil. It was in this town that two figures dressed in military uniforms stepped down from their stagecoach.

The first was a short and slender man, his chest decorated with medals and extravagant jewelry. His eyes were narrow and sharp like those of a fox, and a short saber hung at his hip. The man’s name was Becker, a noble who worked as an inspector for the ministry of military affairs.

The other was a large, plump man, towering over his companion at 27 palms (200 cm). His face was like a boulder, and a broader, longer sword rested on his hip. He was Becker’s bodyguard, Fourth-Grade Combat Officer Boislow. He held his stomach, letting out a sigh as he gazed along the stalls lining the main road.

“Looks nice... Over there. Becker, sir, look. They’re roasting chicken.”

“Are you seriously on about food again?”

Squinting his already narrow eyes, Becker kicked at Boislow and spat on the side of the road.

“Damn it, where’s our escort!?”

“We’re supposed to meet them at the northern plaza.”

“They’re going to make us walk!? Good grief, what an inconsiderate guide. This is why I hate the boonies. To start with, they should learn some proper manners.”

Becker burst into a sudden walk despite his objections, only to immediately collide with a child running in the opposite direction down the street.

“Grr...!?”

“Ah!”

The boy, around six years of age, blinked, startled, as he lowered his head.

“S-Sorry!”

He was likely the child of a commoner, judging by his clothing. While he wasn’t in rags, his clothes were poorly tailored and his shoes comparable to hemp sacks.

In stark contrast to his belligerence just a moment ago, Becker’s lips curved into a gentle smile.

“...Ahem. Are you injured, my boy?”

He pulled a fancy white handkerchief from his breast pocket.

The child shook his head.

“N-No. I’m fine.”

“Why, that simply can’t be true. Are you sure you’re not injured?”

“I’m really fine, mister!”

“Really? It doesn’t look that way to me. You’re definitely injured.”

“Ah...? Where?”

Becker flourished the handkerchief in his left hand, his right grabbing the hilt of his saber.

Boislow twiddled his thumbs, still staring longingly at the stalls. Some commoner child wasn’t worth his attention.

A serene smile still on his face, Becker’s eyes ran red.

“Where? You really can’t tell? How have you not noticed... that cut across your throat!”

He moved to draw his saber, but before he could fully unsheathe it, his name was called from a short distance away.

“Inspector Becker!”

The clatter of hooves and carriage wheels grew louder.

Driving this military carriage was a blond-haired man—Eric.

“Sir! Are you Inspector Becker, sir!? I have come from Fort Sierck to meet you! My name is Eric Mickaël de Blanchard of the Beilschmidt border regiment.”

Once the carriage was beside them, he jumped down from the cabman’s perch.

Eric was handsome enough to make passersby do a double take.

Becker clenched his jaw as he continued to smile, his hand moving from his saber.

“Such an honor... But you’ve arrived ahead of schedule...”

He pulled a golden pocket watch from his pocket and checked the hands, despite the fact it would have been easier to glance at the church’s clocktower.

Eric snapped his heels together and touched his right hand to his breast in a model salute.

“Her Highness Fourth Princess Marie Quatre arranged for me to come at once.”

Upon hearing the princess’s name, Becker’s expression changed.

“Hm, hm... The princess made special arrangements for me?”

“But of course, Inspector Becker. She wishes to hear all about the capital. Now, please board the carriage. I must warn you—as a military piece, it isn’t built for comfort, but our journey shouldn’t be a long one.”

“Very well. We’re leaving, Boislow.”

“Oh, yes, of course... Hah... I’m starving...”

The inspector and his guard climbed into the carriage.

The young boy continued to stare at them in a daze until a woman flew from the crowd and locked him in a tight embrace. She then lowered her head, almost touching it to the ground.

Eric breathed a sigh of relief before returning a small nod.

✧ ✧ ✧

“He’s just too much, that inspector!”

It was rare for Eric to be so openly angry.

The conversation took place in Regis’s room.

“I see... So I was right to send you there early. To think he’d draw his sword on a child...” Regis raised a tired voice from behind the book he was reading.

Eric planted both hands onto the desk and leaned forward.

“It would have been a tragedy had I arrived a second later. Did you see this coming?”

“We’ve been having a spot of nice weather lately, so I assumed their stagecoach would arrive early. The snow here may be piled high, but not so much on the roads... Also, it’s pretty standard for low-ranking nobles dispatched from the capital to work their high-handed ways in the countryside.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. The antagonist of the book I’m reading now is precisely that sort of man.”

“Hah... There you go again, covering up your deep insight.”

Eric fixed him with an attentive stare.

It was quite apparent Regis had earned the man’s respect, for which he was grateful... but he couldn’t help but feel as though this admiration went beyond that.

“...I wasn’t covering anything up.”

“Did the princess really want to meet with that man?”

“Eh?”

“That’s what you told me.”

“Oh, that was just social courtesy... All Altina knows is that the inspector is coming. She’s not too stellar when it comes to the whole flattery thing.”

“Seeing as you’re only telling me this now, does that apply to me, too?”

“Haha... Don’t take it the wrong way.”

“I don’t mind, as long as it helped you out. Whatever the case, that man is dangerous. We need to exercise caution.”

“So it seems... It’s about time.”

Altina was to receive the letter of notice just before dinner. The inspector could have simply passed it over the moment he arrived, but such nobles obnoxiously seemed to prefer formal regulations and arrangements. Did it make them feel more important?

Regis pouted as he considered how much of his precious reading time this would shave away.

✧ ✧ ✧

A storage room was cleared and turned into a makeshift audience chamber.

An expensive chandelier from who-knows-where was hung from the ceiling and the walls were draped with elegant cloth; the place was unrecognizable.

After all, the princess couldn’t hold these discussions in the courtyard forever—or so Everard had asserted when ordering his soldiers to get to work. The new arrangement had apparently been designed by Eric.

Jerome may have been a noble, but he had no interest in this decorum. Even if such a meeting proved to be absolutely necessary, it could be held at his family manor in Theonveil. For this reason, this converted storage room was the first audience chamber Fort Sierck had ever had.

However, on Altina’s request, it wasn’t arranged so that the guest would have to look up at their host. There was a single, level table positioned in the center, almost as though the room were a one-party restaurant.

She took a seat in the chair furthest back, her still-recovering arm hidden beneath her mantle.

Becker and Boislow seated themselves nearby. The lack of guards between them could be seen by some as careless, but knowing these men couldn’t be as dangerous as Diethardt, Regis allowed it.

Clarisse lined cups along the table in silence before filling them one by one with freshly brewed tea.

“Hmm...” Becker’s lecherous gaze scoured her from top to bottom.

Altina interrupted his leering.

“You’ve come quite a long way, inspector.”

“Mn? Oh, yes. It’s the first time I’ve ever been so far from home... Ahem. But the view was most definitely worth the journey.”

“Ahaha... No need to be so stiff. You must have been taken aback by the countryside,” she cheerfully responded.

Perhaps because he was in front of royalty, Becker took on the persona of a well-disciplined dog. Meanwhile, Boislow reached his hand for the dried grapes and apples that had been presented alongside the tea.

Altina was seated at the head of the long table. To her right sat Becker, and then Boislow in the seat after. To her left sat Regis, and then Eric, who had volunteered to attend when no one else would.

Everard and the other soldiers kept low near the door. Not as participants, but as guards.

Under normal circumstances, Jerome should have attended, but he had vanished without even making one of his usual harsh excuses.

“...Did you tell the princess about the, uh... incident... earlier?” Eric whispered into Regis’s ear.

“...We’ll be in hot water if she finds out. It’ll sour her relationship with the inspector, and should things escalate and he were to return injured, the ministry would no doubt be after us. There’d be hell to pay.” He spoke in a whisper so only Eric could hear.

“Certainly...” Eric gave an understanding nod.

Moving on from her idle chitchat with the inspector, Altina cut straight to the point.

“You have a letter for me?”

“Indeed.”

Wearing a triumphant grin, Becker put on airs as he took out the envelope.

“It has been entrusted to me by General Latrielle himself.”

“Latrielle...”

Altina’s face clouded over.

This was the man who had exiled her to the border. Their mothers differed, but he was still Altina’s blood brother.

She received the letter and opened it. The further she read, the sterner her expression became.

“...Fort Volks?”

Altina held the paper out to Regis.

She wants me to read it?

“Pardon me.” He gingerly took it from her hands.

It started with a long, drawn-out stream of salutations, lip service, and gratitude toward a dear sister for taking up military service at such an important position—all of which Regis glossed over.

He could summarize the order that underlay these empty words as follows:

You are to capture Fort Volks in the grand duchy of Varden of the Germania Federation.

“Now this is...” Regis muttered over a sigh.

Altina leaned closer to him.

“It’s an amazing fortress, isn’t it? And he’s ordering us to take it on our own?”

“...That does seem to be the case. In fact, he even explicitly mentions that he ‘can’t send reinforcements.’”

Eric’s complexion took a turn for the worse.

“He wants us to attack Volks with our regiment alone!?”

“Yeah... That’s the order.”

“That’s impossible!”

Altina turned to Eric.

“You think it’ll be difficult?”

“Princess, that fortress is impregnable! We’ve tried invading several times before, but even an army of ten thousand couldn’t take it down!”

“Come to think of it, Diethardt did say that fort was the reason he couldn’t attack Varden...”

Regis thumbed through the compendiums in his mind.

“...As I recall, there are records of the imperial army trying to attack on four occasions. The first was with three thousand soldiers, the second with eight thousand. The last two, ten thousand each.”

“And none worked out?”

“Nope— Er, I mean, no, they did not. You are correct. Our attempts all ended in failure.”

Altina had made it clear that she didn’t care what words people used, but Regis decided to continue speaking cordially while others were watching.

“If we were to attack, how many troops could we assemble?”

“We’d have to leave a thousand on defense, so I believe we would have maybe two thousand men.”

“Only that many?”

“Yes, only that many... It’s written that we must execute the plan before February 12^th of this year, so we don’t even have time to bolster our forces.”

The princess was beginning to look concerned, and with good reason.

“Don’t tell me this is an impossible request?”

“Well...”

“I think so too!” Eric stood and declared, “No matter how you slice it, this order is unreasonable!”

Everard and his men exchanged looks by the door. An uproar was brewing.

Becker alone wore a composed smile. In fact, he seemed to be finding enjoyment in the situation.

“Is it not discourteous to dismiss the order as unreasonable? It was proposed by General Latrielle and approved by the Ministry of Military Affairs; the command stands just as tall as His Majesty the Emperor’s own will. As soldiers of the imperial army, what greater honor could there be?”

His voice dripped with sadistic glee. Did this man take pleasure in using the emperor’s name to force such impossible demands?

Eric glared at him.

“Kuh... If it’s such an honor, why don’t you stand at the vanguard of our march!? Your outlook might change when you taste the steel of an enemy blade.”

“Oh? A peon drags themselves from the gutter to insult me. You... Who were you again?”

“Eric Mickaël de Blanchard. Didn’t you hear me introduce myself?”

“Hm... That’s no house I know of. Can you really speak so boldly with such paltry status? I’m from a count house, you know.”

Now that he’d delivered such an order, it would be difficult for them to speak on amicable terms. Coupled with the events that had transpired in town, the young Eric had grown emotional.

Regis raised a hand to quell their squabble.

“...We have received your letter, and we fully understand both its contents and deadline. Is that satisfactory?”

“Indeed. As long as you carry it out, that’s all there is to discuss about the letter. My inspection of this border regiment, however, is a separate issue.”

“That one is an administrative matter. There’s no need to take up the princess’s time with such a routine procedure, is there?”

“Hrm? I suppose you’re right,” Becker nodded. He then continued, his tone excessively syrupy to the extent of sounding unsavory. “There are rumors that this border regiment has recruited a great many irregular troops as of late... I can only hope they bring joy to His Majesty with their spectacular results.”

“...Irregular troops? We hired a few maids from town the other day... Do you really think they’ll help us capture the fortress?” Regis played dumb.

✧ ✧ ✧

After a dreary audience, Regis explained the paperwork situation to Becker.

It stood to reason that inspectors were not supposed to be deliverymen for the ministry’s orders. They were meant to look into whether a body of troops was observing regulations, whether they were properly filling out paperwork, whether they were carrying out orders, and so on, and to then report any issues back to the capital.

Regis was sure it would take a considerable amount of time just to walk him through the vast seas of paperwork... but Becker’s absolute lack of enthusiasm had him return quite quickly to his guest room.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later, when night had fallen, Regis lit a candle as he continued his administrative work, processing documents in the solitude of his room.

There was a knock at his door.

“Yes? Come in...”

The door swung open, and there stood a familiar red-haired girl.

“Good evening, Regis.”

“Hey... Altina... You’re here at such a late hour again...”

“Should I not be?”

“No, it’s fine... Just take care you don’t cause any strange rumors to spread.”

“Hm?”

She tilted her head, evidently failing to follow.

Regis gave up on explaining, instead leaving it at: “You shouldn’t drop by people’s rooms this late at night too often.”

“As always, I can never tell what any of these stacks of papers are for.”

“...There are forms here that would normally require your signature.”

“Oh, if it’s just my signature, I’ll gladly sign.”

“Really? Then I’ll haul them over to you later. It’s only that pile, that pile over there, that small mountain of papers, that stack there...”

“I’m not a very fast writer, mind you.”

“Hah...”

“Hey, Regis... About that inspector. Wasn’t he a bit strange?”

“...He was. Checking your pocket watch again and again during a meal is definitely not normal.”

“No, that’s not what I meant... I have a bad feeling about him.”

“Yeah... I wouldn’t doubt it.”

“Did something happen?”

“Eric mentioned something. And when he was auditing me a moment ago... rather than the correctness of my paperwork, he seemed far more interested in taking bribes.”

Altina’s eyes opened wide.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“No matter how well my reports were written, he would nitpick. ‘This explanation is too hard to understand.’ ‘No one uses that expression anymore.’ ‘Your handwriting is an absolute mess.’”

“Those are all false charges!”

“...And If I wanted them overlooked, he said he’d do so for a fee.”

When Jerome had first met Regis, the reason he accused the admin officer of seeking bribes was due to the abundance of these sorts.

Altina turned on the spot and rested her hand on the doorknob.

“Not on my watch!”

“Wait, wait! What he did is standard practice! He may be a crook, but he’s not the only one.”

“Don’t tell me you actually paid him!?”

She met him with a gaze sharper than a spear, but Regis merely shook his head.

“I knew it’d anger you, so I didn’t... though I do think it’d be a lot easier to just arbitrarily sweep it under the rug.”

“I won’t forgive that.”

“Him, or me?”

“Both! Whatever the case, I need to knock that man into shape!”

“That’s a bad idea. He’s got connections in the ministry. If you anger him, it won’t just be petty harassment next time... Worst case scenario, it’d be a summons to the court of inquiry.”

“Like I care!”

“You’re a princess, so they won’t summon you... In that case, I’d be the one up for inquiry.”

“Erk!”

How disgusting. I’m holding myself hostage... Regis thought. But he had no choice. If Altina went on a rampage now, the regiment would fall apart.

“He must have family high up in the ministry, or otherwise he wouldn’t be appointed as an inspector... It wouldn’t be smart to make an enemy of him now.”

“So he provoked Eric and tried to solicit a bribe from you because he thinks he’s untouchable?”

“That’s right.”

He had also sent quite depraved looks to both Altina and Clarisse, but the princess did not seem to have noticed. Regis decided not to say anything that might add fuel to the fire.

Altina’s right fist quivered as her rage seethed without an outlet.

“Grrrrrr—!!”

Regis decided it was time to change the subject.

“More importantly... You came to discuss Prince Latrielle’s order, correct?”

“Ah, that’s right! What do we do?”

“Fort Volks, huh...”

“What sort of place is it? I’ve never seen it before.”

“I haven’t either, and if possible, I’d like to keep it that way. According to the books I’ve read, it’s a sheer, wall-like cliff in a region of nothing but gently sloping hills. It towers at 225 cubits (100 m) high.”

This meant it was more than six times taller than the very highest point of Fort Sierck.

“Of course, there’d be little use in having their defenses at the very top. Instead, they have their cannons positioned in small caverns that run along the side of the cliff, around 100 cubits (44 m) from the ground.”

“That’s higher than the tallest building in the empire.”

“The cliff covers the south and east, while the north and west join onto a mountain range.”

“And we can’t attack from the mountain side?”

“When they fortified the area, they apparently dug quite a deep trench on the western side. It would be possible to get close while avoiding cannon fire, but to get to the fortress, we’d have to climb down into the ditch and then back up again, so it’s not much better... The north side has a pit dug from when the area was used as an open mine. The incline is softer, but not only does it still pose the same problems as the ditch, water has since pooled at the base to form a lake.”

“Couldn’t we just ignore the fort and attack their capital?”

“In any siege, you’ve practically lost once the enemy cuts off your rear... The enemy would be able to resupply as much as they need, but once your resources ran out, you’d have no choice but to surrender.”

“Ah, I see... Then could we take on the enemy when they’re outside the fortress?”

“If we did, wouldn’t they just retreat back inside? And if we chased after them, the outcome wouldn’t be much different from attacking the fortress directly... Cannonballs shall rain from the heavens.”

“I see.”

“Across the past four attempts, the empire has attempted night raids and encirclements, preparing for a drawn-out campaign, but...”

They would not be in their current situation had those efforts succeeded. Not only was the fortress itself considerably sturdy, the enemy commander was also competent.

“...If possible, I really don’t want to do this,” Regis muttered.

“What other choice do we have?”

“Yeah...”

Opposed as he was, Regis couldn’t deny that Prince Latrielle had made an impressively effective move. He was presumably already used to dealing with situations where a competing power gained an unanticipated addition.

Altina proclaimed her resolve.

“We have to do this! Latrielle gave us the order because he believes we can.”

“Eh?”

“...What? I mean, he ordered us to take the fort, so he has to believe we can, right?”

“...No?”

“Heh?” Altina looked suddenly perplexed, her expression blank.

The girl really was too naïve.

“What Prince Latrielle wants... is for us to lead about half of our troops to attack an impregnable fortress and fail, losing a large portion of our soldiers and our unifying power.”

“But if we can’t win... why would he order us to attack?”

“Because he’ll be able to chip away at the war potential of a border regiment that grew far beyond his expectations. Such is the intent of his order.”

“Wh-What!?”

Her face burned a ferocious red, and she slammed her unbound hand against the desk.

A painful-sounding bang resounded through the room.

“Just how lightly does he take the lives of our soldiers!?”

He no doubt valued them as little more than pawns in a much larger game of chess.

“Calm down, Altina... I don’t plan to let our troops die in vain.”

“You have an idea!? Ah, could we pretend we never heard the order?”

“With Inspector Becker here, we can’t approach this half-heartedly.”

“But, even if we fought properly, doesn’t he seem like the sort who’d report we weren’t taking it seriously?”

“That’s why we have to keep him in a good mood...”

Altina fell into deep thought for a moment. She was, in her own way, doing her best to protect her soldiers.

“Hey... What happens if we do ignore the orders?”

“It would be considered treason... I’m pretty sure we’d be branded as traitors, and it wouldn’t be long before the empire’s First Army marched out to subjugate us.”

“Traitors!?”

“You’re already prepared for that, aren’t you?”

“I am, but... The First Army... They’re strong, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. I think I told you before, but the First Army gathers strong soldiers from across the nation and equips them with the newest, most cutting-edge equipment. They’re the strongest army in the empire. They have members from all over, some of whom will be familiar with the lay of the land, so we won’t even have a regional advantage. If we were to fight them... we’d have it rough.”

“So we can’t win?”

“Not conventionally, no... We can’t even guarantee Sir Jerome and Mr. Everard would fight beside us. Same goes for the soldiers. We haven’t prepared enough to challenge Prince Latrielle.”

Altina bit down on her bottom lip.

“...That’s right... What should we do?”

“I think we have to attack the fortress... keeping our casualties as low as possible. On top of that, we need to leave a good impression on Inspector Becker so that he reports there were no issues once he returns to the capital.”

“How unfortunate.”

“How forward. I feel the same, but there’s not much else we can do.”

Regis opened a book already sat on his desk.

“I’ll handle the research on Fort Volks. Just focus on recovering your arm.”

“I know that alre— Mn?”

“...Something wrong?”

As if she had developed a sudden uncharacteristic interest in literature, Altina peered curiously at the desk.

The book appeared to have been bound using an old process, its discolored pages sewn together with leather thread and its cover a thin sheet of wood into which a title had been carved.

“Is that, by chance, a book on Fort Volks?”

“Well, I thought this might happen, so... Hah, I’m just kidding. I happened to spot it in town. The book was written around forty years ago and chronicles events even older than that.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Over fifty years ago, in the imperial year 800, the current emperor, Liam XV, had yet to take the throne.

This was the era of his predecessor, Emperor Vicente, who was said to choose his ministers based on their prowess in music and poetry. The man himself showed talent in the arts, and his contributions to culture could never be understated: developments in paper and printing had only been possible thanks to his generous investments in the field.

However, such expenditures required cuts elsewhere. Subsequent reductions in the military budget, alongside the appointment of mediocre people into command positions, put the army at a disadvantage on all fronts.

The situation became so dire that for quite some time the area around Theonveil was occupied by the grand duchy of Varden.

When Emperor Vicente eventually succumbed to illness, the young Liam XV succeeded the throne. At the same time, General Corneille was appointed marshal general. As the emperor was considered the supreme commander of the army, this wasn’t a position that existed in the military hierarchy. However, the state of affairs could not be entrusted to a new emperor with insufficient combat experience.

By this point, the empire had lost over thirty percent of its territory.

However, once Marshal General Corneille had reorganized the weakened army, he went on to regain much of the empire’s former land, achieving victory against enemies both inside and outside of national borders.

In no time at all, the northern front was recovered from the grand duchy of Varden. The opposing army overwhelmed, the empire’s troops pushed all the way to their capital.

As good-quality iron could be extracted from their newly acquired territory in the mountainous regions of Varden, a mine was promptly created—Volks Mine.

Little did the imperial army know that their own creation would become the impregnable fortress that afforded their enemy a considerable advantage.

Ten years later, when Marshal General Corneille died in battle, the military once again fell into chaos as the empire was met with counterattack upon counterattack. In the end, the front lines were largely back to where they once were—and where they would remain.

Imperial Year 812. The grand duchy of Varden repurposed the mines as a sturdy defensive base against the empire.

In response, the imperial side reconstructed Theonveil, once a farming settlement, into a border town, opposing Fort Volks with a fortress of their own.

That was Fort Sierck, where they were now.

✧ ✧ ✧

“So, yes. It’s a book that details our long, twisted relationship with Fort Volks.”

“From back when it was constructed?”

“Yeah. It reports up to the fortification of Volks Mine and, as I said, was likely published around forty years ago. It’s part of a series detailing the history of Theonveil since the empire reclaimed its northern territories—the first of eight volumes. Papermaking techniques were quite advanced at the time, but bookbinding was still underdeveloped, so it has quite a peculiar make.”

“Hm. Must’ve been expensive.”

Altina took a stab at something he never thought she would bring up.

Regis froze in place.

“...No...”

“You had a sword when you came to this fort, didn’t you? I haven’t seen it around lately.”

“Ah, well, that’s because, whenever I swing it around, I always just end up injuring myself.”

“Where is it?”

“...I just want to preface this by saying the sword wasn’t military issued. It was a personal possession. All right?”

“I see. And where is it?”

“At the... pawn shop in Theonveil... Assuming it hasn’t been sold yet...”

“What kind of soldier pawns his sword!?”

Altina closed in menacingly as she spoke. Regis lurched back in his chair, coming ever so close to toppling over.

“I-I mean... I don’t use it—it would’ve just accumulated rust...”

“How much was the book!?”

“I-It wasn’t anything extraordinary. Two hundred...”

“Huh? Two hundred denier? Your weekly pay should have covered that. I mean, it’s still expensive, but—”

“Two hundred sol.”

Altina twitched at his final word.

One silver sol was worth twelve copper denier.

The pale fingers of her unrestrained hand gripped Regis’s head.

“Are you an idiot!? Huh!? You are an idiot, aren’t you!?”

“Am I? I don’t regret the purchase...”

“You should regret it!”

“B-But this is a terribly valuable book. Its contents are useful, of course, but its historical value is also—”

“Where did you even scrounge up so much money from!?”

“Well, you see, I thought it was impossible at first, but... word had spread through town that I’d become the regiment’s tactician, so the shopkeeper said I was trustworthy enough for him to open up a tab...”

“So now you’re in debt!?”

She gradually tightened her grip. His temples were starting to ache under the pressure.

“No, having a tab is different from being in debt, when you get down to it...”

“Listen to me!”

“Yes.”

“My mother always told me—commoners may live poor lives, but no amount of poverty will ever cost them their lives. Unless they’re in debt.”

“Well, there is more than enough food to go around.”

“If you understand that, then don’t go into debt over a book!”

“O-Ow... You’re hurting me, Altina. Your fingers— They’re crushing— My head is going to—”

“If you need such an expensive book, tell me! You’re my tactician.”

Her words were stern, but she wore a look of complete sincerity.

“...I could never do that,” Regis declared, apologetic though he was.

“Why?”

“I mean... I didn’t buy this book because I thought it’d be useful. I just thought it looked interest—ooooooooww!?”

“You good-for-nothing spendthrift!”

He couldn’t deny that.

Finally, Altina released her grip.

Seeing as how she boasted the grip to swing such a colossal sword one-handed, she likely hadn’t been serious at all. But it still hurt enough to bring tears to his eyes.

“I haven’t been lectured like this since my sister blew up at me for enrolling in the military academy.”

“I feel for your sister... But there’s no use in crying over spilled milk. I’ll lend you the money; you’d better pay me back soon.”

“Huh? No, that’s—”

“Better than having rumors passing through town that my tactician’s in debt.”

“Hrmm...”

“What is it? No need to hold back.”

“Really? Well, if you’re going to lend me the money anyway, there are two other books that I... Ah, no, it’s nothing!”

“Ah, God. You book-obsessed buffoon!!”

✧ ✧ ✧

The next day, Regis returned to town to settle his debt. Only one stagecoach ran per day, so he stayed the night at the military outpost before returning the next day.

Upon returning to the fort, Regis opened the door to his room.

“Huh?”

“Kyaah!?”

Eric jumped up from Regis’s chair.

He sure screams like a girl, Regis mused.

“...Umm... What are you doing in my room?”

“Ah, w-well, you know... I’m sorry... I didn’t see you around, so I was searching and...”

“I took a trip into town. The princess didn’t tell you?”

“Oh, is that where you were? Because of my lowly status, the princess isn’t someone I can approach so freely. You’re a special case in that regard.”

“...I see.”

Altina always acted so jovial that Regis was prone to forgetting her status, but her position was princess and commander. She was not someone you just approached to ask the whereabouts of a fifth-grade admin officer.

It was at times like these that not having any direct superiors or subordinates became an inconvenience.

“But, if you were looking for me, why were you sitting in my seat...?”

“Erk... Th-That’s— Er... I thought I might be able to find you by... acting like you usually would...” he said, his face a bright shade of red. The way he squirmed and twisted his body left no vestige of a knight. Once again, he was comparable to a bashful young girl.

Regis could feel the corner of his mouth twitch.

“...That’s quite a novel way to search for someone.”

“I-I apologize.”

“No, it’s fine... Did you need me for something?”

After calming his breath, Eric regained the dignified appearance of a young man.

“Phew... It’s about the fortress. I realize I may be stepping out of line by asking, but what are we going to do?”

Going off of Latrielle’s orders, they only had a month before the attack needed to be carried out. Discussions were no doubt in order.

Regis issued an order to Eric.

“Could you summon Sir Jerome and Mr. Everard to the strategy room? I’ll head there after getting the princess.”

“Understood. The two are currently doing practice drills outside the fort, so we may be a while.”

“Training, eh? How passionate.”

“If I may have my say, that’s just how serious of a matter attacking Fort Volks is.”

“...Yeah.”

“Then, if you’ll excuse me!”

Eric stood at attention before exiting the room.

✧ ✧ ✧

Regis took some time gathering all of the necessary documents. He held the bundle of papers to his chest and made off for Altina’s room.

On his way, he passed in front of the dining hall.

“No...”

He heard a small—a terribly small—plea.

“Hm?”

Regis turned back and peered into the room. The tables were lined up in their usual arrangement, and looked to be as well maintained as they always were. The hand-wound clock on the wall indicated it had just passed two in the afternoon.

As Jerome and his men had gone off to train, the officers who usually frequented the hall were nowhere to be found.

Regis’s eyes suddenly stopped on a dish cloth that had been left on the table, seemingly abandoned. This room was always cleaned by Clarisse, and from what he knew about her, she wasn’t one to leave a task half-finished...

But there were always exceptions. It wouldn’t take long at all for Regis to return the rag to the adjoining kitchen.

Tucking his documents under an arm, Regis stepped through the door to the dining hall and pinched the cloth from atop the long table.

It was damp. Meaning, it had just been used.

“...Did something urgent come up?”

A faint clatter could be heard coming from the kitchen. Was someone preparing dinner? Perhaps it was Clarisse.

Regis slowly approached the source of the noise.

“Err, excuse me...” he announced as he poked his head through the doorway.

The kitchen was in the shape of a hemisphere jutting out of the base of the tower. Its interior was simple; a stove sat against the far wall, with counter space stretching out on either side.

Inside stood a narrow-eyed man in uniform, and a boulder-like giant: Inspector Becker and his escort officer, Boislow.

Across from them, with her brown hair bundled behind her head, a woman in an indigo-colored maid uniform lay face down on the floor.

Regis had to doubt his eyes.

“...What!?”

There was no mistaking the timid face that raised to see him. It was Clarisse.

“Mr. Regis... You mustn’t...”

“What... are you people doing!?”

Becker scoffed.

“Hmph. You wouldn’t pay up, so I had to get my compensation one way or another. Or, what, have you had a change of heart?”

“...How could this be... I’d heard the inspectors were all terrible people, but... to go to such vile lengths!”

“Hey now, watch your tongue, junior officer. I’m an inspector, you know. Don’t you care about your report?”

“Kuh... Clarisse! Get over here. Listening to anything they say won’t make the princess happy.”

“I-I know... but...”

She rose ever so slowly, then walked up to him with fearful steps.

The moment she reached him, she surrendered her weight into his arms.

“Mr. Regis...”

“......”

Her body was trembling. It was the first time he had ever seen Clarisse so frail.

“What’s this? I thought you were a sham of a tactician,” spat Becker; “And now you’re playing the knight? No money to give, no women to offer... You must be joking! This is terrible. Absolutely terrible. I suspect this border regiment must be planning a rebellion, eh?”

“Don’t be stupid. Your actions are clearly in violation of military regulations. Inspector Becker, I’ll have you stand before the military tribunal.”

“Oh really? Over what? I haven’t done anything wrong. Not yet, at least. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Coercing bribes from an officer and attempted rape... That’s more than enough. Perhaps I’ll find even more charges if I look into where you’ve been dispatched before.”

Becker clicked his tongue. He gestured his chin toward Boislow.

“Silence them. For good.”

“Righto!”

Regis hurriedly grabbed Clarisse and retreated a few steps. The documents fell at his feet.

The giant closed in, trampling paper after paper on his way.

“Fo! Fum! Silence them!”

“Aah... Such a good woman, too. What a waste,” Becker muttered under his breath, as if completely above the slaughter about to happen before him.

Regis escaped the kitchen into the dining hall. He dragged Clarisse by the hand, weaving his way between the long tables, running as fast as he could toward the door.

But, despite his portly build, Boislow was abnormally fast. No, it was quite possible Regis was just abnormally slow...

Whatever the reason, the giant managed to circle around and reach the only exit before them.

“Gfufufu!”

“Erk...”

The officers’ dining hall was situated on the first floor and had no particularly large windows. Light filtered in through small openings along the walls, but none were big enough for someone to pass through.

Like a beast salivating as it stood before its prey, Boislow slowly drew the long sword at his waist.

Clarisse firmly took Regis’s hand in both of hers.

“Mr. Regis... This doesn’t have to happen. I can just endure it... Such things are inescapable.”

“Letting you sacrifice yourself to save me? Now that’s the worst... I’d be better off dying.”

“The princess needs you.”

“Ms. Clarisse... Everyone dies someday. But, the way I see it, a person ceases to live the moment they cast aside their beliefs.”

“Even so, there are some things that can only be gained by living through humiliation.”

“...I’ll bear as much humiliation as I have to... but I can’t allow someone like you to undergo such a fate.”

“Mr. Regis... You shouldn’t say that... to a woman like me.”

Boislow closed in, his gargantuan form now looming over them.

“Gfufu. You can lose your heads together!”

The giant prepared to strike, raising his sword so high it almost reached the ceiling.

Regis wrapped his arms around Clarisse, pressing her to his chest in an attempt to protect her. She hugged him tight, and in that moment he regretted his own frailty that wouldn’t even let him serve as her shield.

Boislow’s smile, merciless like a ferocious, carnivorous beast...

...suddenly warped in agony.

“Gwooaah!?”

A great volume of blood spilled onto his feet.

“Eh...?”

Regis couldn’t immediately discern what had happened.

The great giant crumbled to the ground, revealing the young man standing behind him. The form of Eric, bloodstained sword in hand, appeared before them.

His breaths were sharp and irregular.

“Hah, hah, hah... Are you okay, Mr. Regis!? And you too, Miss...”

Clarisse responded with a silent nod.

Regis looked down on the collapsed Boislow.

“D-Did you kill him?”

“I missed his vitals.”

The man was curled up on the floor, groaning. A bleeding tear stretched from his buttocks down his right thigh. It definitely didn’t look fatal, but was deep enough that he would no longer be able to chase them or even plant his feet to swing a sword.

“...You saved us... Thank you, Eric.” Regis placed a hand to his chest to soothe his pounding heart.

“I’m just glad I could be of use to you, Mr. Regis.”

“How did you find us?”

“You weren’t at the conference room, so I went out to look for you. I’m glad you’re all right... Now, how should we deal with him?”

Eric cast a glance toward the kitchen. There, in the doorway, stood Becker, a bitter look on his face.

“Hmhm. A knight attacking from behind... How cowardly!”

A terrifying darkness burned in his eyes, comparable to an evil spirit from the holy scriptures.

Eric readied his sword without faltering.

“If my actions were unjust, I will gladly face judgment... but not before I have you locked away!”

Regis was inadvertently gripped. It wasn’t only his appearance; the way Eric carried himself was the epitome of a knight from a fairy tale. It felt like a bit of an exaggeration, but the comparison was too apt for him to discard.

Becker’s eyes were bloodshot, and saliva spouted from the corners of his mouth as he spoke.

“Ki hee hee... A lowborn thinks he can shove me in a cell!?”

His hand shot for his weapon, but what he drew wasn’t the shortsword at his waist, but a pistol he had hidden in his overcoat. The latest model from High Britannia.

It could only hold a single bullet, meaning the gun had to be reloaded after each shot, but there was no preparation required to ignite the gunpowder. The gun could be fired as soon as it was loaded.

Eric bit his lip. He may have stood a chance on an open plain, but with the writhing giant and rows of tables between them, it would be difficult to make the first move with a sword.

As the barrel could only hold a single shot, he could manage so long as he avoided the first round. But Becker would certainly hit at this distance.

And once he’d taken out Eric, Becker would have to kill Regis and Clarisse to ensure the news didn’t spread. Perhaps he was considering the possible ramifications, as he didn’t shoot immediately.

In his mind, Regis pored over the books he’d read in the past, searching for a similar scene.

“...This should be the best move.”

“What are you going to do, Mr. Regis?” Clarisse asked, clinging to the sleeve of his uniform.

“...I’ve never lost in a game of chess. Please trust me.”

He delicately took her hand in his and peeled it from his clothes. Heavy tears had formed in the corners of her eyes.

There was no convenient magic that would save all three of them without any danger.

The basic tenet of chess was to use the weaker pieces as strategic bait to keep the stronger pieces alive. In this situation, he was definitely the weakest piece.

Regis broke into a sprint, screaming as loud as he could as he charged straight at Becker.

“Uwaaaah!!”

Becker flinched, having been taken by complete surprise.

“Wh-What!? You dimwit!”

Regis just needed to pressure him into firing and their victory would be assured. But close-quarters combat was evidently outside of his realm of expertise. Becker simply switched the pistol to his left hand and drew his saber with his right. The blade was thrust out before him in an instant, and Regis came to a sudden halt three paces from his foe.

He raised both hands.

“...You got me... I suppose I should have read more from the action genre.”

He knew the man had a sword, but never figured he could draw it so fast. Regis was terrible when it came to judging a person’s physical ability.

Becker brandished his saber.

“I’ll start with you—!”

“Let’s make a deal!”

“Mn!?”

His sword stopped on those words. Eric and Clarisse watched, unable to even breathe. The air was stretched thin.

“...A deal, Inspector Becker. Do you think you can kill all three of us and get away? Kill me, and what will you do with Eric? Shoot him? That leaves enough time for Clarisse to escape.”

“Hah! As if a woman could outrun me.”

“...And what will you say to the soldiers who hear her screams? Clarisse is so dearly beloved by the princess she had her tag along from the capital.”

“Mn?”

“...Inspector Becker... Will you allow us to leave? Do that, and we’ll forget what we saw. How about it?”

“I can’t trust you!”

“Do you really have anything to fear? If we were to press charges, you would only have to deny them. The fact your gun was never used would prove very useful in court.”

“It’d be much quicker to kill the lot of you.”

“And you expect to prove your innocence with a fired gun and a bloodstained sword? You aren’t thinking you can use your aristocratic status to pressure the princess, are you?”

“No... That’s...”

“Think it over. You have me hostage, so Eric can’t make any sudden movements. This is a matter that’ll determine the rest of your life. Give it some thought, and you’ll definitely see some merit in my proposal. Oh, right, right—an old scholar once said— Please, it won’t take long to explain, just hear me out—”

Regis then proceeded to recite three whole lengthy fables where negotiations had led to the best outcome. His raised hands were finally beginning to grow weary when—

“What are you doing!?”

In the doorway stood a young girl, flowing red hair draped across her shoulders. It was Altina! Behind her stood Jerome and Everard.

Upon seeing them, Eric and Clarisse immediately lightened up.

“Phew...” Regis breathed a long sigh.

“You’re finally here.”

“You never showed up, and then Eric disappeared, too, so I wondered what could have happened, and... What happened here!?”

Altina scanned the room with a ferocious glare, eventually resting her eyes on Becker. The color immediately drained from his face.

“N-No... This is... I didn’t...!”

Regis was glad he could finally lower his hands.

“Ms. Clarisse was almost assaulted... And when I threatened to take him to the military tribunal, he tried to kill me.”

“You weasel! Weren’t we making a deal!?” Becker roared.

Regis shook his head.

“My apologies, but... initiating negotiations is quite a standard way to buy time. Humans lose their composure when chance comes into the equation. In a situation where you have to kill three people, one of them approaches you with quite the appealing proposal. It would no doubt be in your favor to accept, but it could be a trap... Naturally, you hesitate. After all, it’s a decision that will affect the rest of your life. But, unbeknownst to you, there was somewhere I had to be, and as long as I wasted enough time, someone would come for me.”

Becker’s eyes ran red.

Worry spilled into Regis’s mind. He’s not going to fly into a rage and shoot, is he?

...But, instead, the man broke into a sudden lament.

“Oh, how could this be!? My dear subordinate was attacked from behind without reason, so I simply drew my gun in self-defense. Yet you say the sins are all on me!? This is a conspiracy! A ploy to ruin my reputation!”

“...It’s a bit late for that.”

“...I’m thinking of making a report when I return to the capital. ‘The Beilschmidt border regiment is an excellent army following regulation to the letter. With daring and resolve, they attacked Fort Volks, only to be forced to retreat after heavy losses.’ Gfufu. How does that sound?”

A thin smile plastered across his face, Becker looked to Altina.

In short, he was making a proposal: A false, glowing report in exchange for the dismissal of his crimes. It was the exact opposite of what he had presented Regis a moment before.

Regis had his answer ready in an instant, and promptly opened his mouth to speak. But before the words could even pass his lips, Altina raced forward, her unslung fist balled into a tight knot.

She closed in on Becker, raising her arm, and—

Crack!

She smacked her fist straight into his simpering face.

“You absolute cretin!”

“Gyoeh!?”

He was knocked from his feet, his back forcefully smacking into the dining hall wall.

His pistol and saber dropped to the ground. Thankfully, the impact hadn’t caused the gun to discharge.

Blood from his shattered nose streamed down his upper lip.

“Ooo... Blood... My... nose... My blood... My nose!?”

“I have just one thing to say to you!”

Becker held his nose and looked up.

Altina stood before him. In one firm gesture, she pointed a finger at him.

“I’d rather be dead than make a deal with a villain!”

Becker’s back gave out, and he slid slowly down the wall as he limply crumbled to the floor.

Both him and Boislow were immediately restrained by Everard and Eric.

Only at that moment did the soldiers on patrol finally show up.

✧ ✧ ✧

Considerate of the trauma she had just been through, Regis sent Clarisse to rest in her room. He had Eric escort her, just in case.

Becker and Boislow were tightly bound, soldiers stationed all around as Everard led them to the dungeon.

Only Regis, Altina and Jerome remained in the dining hall.

“Give them time to cool their heads,” said Regis. “When the escort officer’s wound heals, we’ll send them back to the capital... With a report on their breach of conduct, of course.”

“Right!”

“Hmph,” Jerome grumbled. “Just behead them already.”

“You have such little consideration for the lives of others, Jerome,” Altina uttered with a sigh.

He responded to her rebuttal with no more than a shrug.

The metallic smell of blood still lingered in the air. Jerome fetched a bottle of wine from the kitchen, popped the cork with his teeth and took a long swig.

“Kukukuh... That inspector’s offer wasn’t bad at all. Have him write a false report, and that’s everything settled.”

Altina shot him a cold glare.

“You must be joking.”

He scoffed, in lieu of a response.

Had Regis not met Altina, perhaps he would have accepted Becker’s proposal. He was overcome by a somber feeling.

“...In the imperial army, such bribes and injustices are all too rampant, though it’s rare to run into someone that terrible.”

Jerome shook his head dismissively.

“There are far more terrible stories out there... Haven’t you heard?”

“...I’ve read about a thing or two.”

Altina slammed her right fist onto the table.

“Unforgivable!”

“...Calm down, Princess... There’s something more pressing to discuss right now. A matter that involves a great many lives.”

“Ah.” Altina’s eyes shifted to her hand as if she had only just realized.

“Because I punched him?”

“...That’s right. His escort officer was injured, too. We can’t count on him to report anything even remotely positive anymore.”

“I would much rather take on Latrielle than bow my head to such trash.” Her voice was rough.

Jerome barely suppressed a laugh. “Kukukuh... Are you sure you should be saying that?”

“What? Are you gonna rush to the ministry and tattle on me?”

“I could... To see such an eyesore of a commander disappear would give me a new lease on life. But I wouldn’t be able to stand knowing that smug, pompous second prince would benefit.”

Considering Jerome’s character and circumstances, he wouldn’t snitch on Altina even if he knew of her intention to revolt. After all, he himself was embezzling funds under the ministry’s nose.

In the overall scheme of things, their interests were currently aligned. But it was still too soon to consider action.

“...We can’t challenge the First Army. As I said before, we don’t have the forces to,” Regis explained as calmly as he could.

“Then what do we do?”

“We’ve got no choice but to attack Fort Volks.”

“But even if we give it our all, it’ll be pointless; they won’t believe we obeyed the order if our report says otherwise.”

“Kukukuh... Would that matter? If our soldiers all die on the battlefield, the ministry’ll have to admit we fought our hardest,” sneered Jerome.

“That’s not an option!”

“Ha. I wouldn’t allow my men to die so needlessly, even if you ordered me to,” he teased. “What’s the real plan?”

Both Altina and Jerome looked to Regis for an answer. He had no idea whether it would succeed... but it was a risk they had to take.

“Let’s seize Fort Volks. If we capture it, the ministry will be forced to recognize our efforts.”

The two stood dumbfounded. Before his words could be misconstrued as some kind of tasteless joke, he proceeded with his explanation, spreading his documents across the long table. They were damp and imprinted with giant footmarks, but their content was relatively intact.

“...Please listen. The fortress has a reputation for being impregnable, but very few soldiers are actually stationed there. Our main problems are going to be the terrain and the countless cannons lining the outer wall.”

Altina leaned in so close that Regis could see his face clearly reflected in her ruby red eyes.

“Regis...”

“U-Um, Princess... Please look at the documents, not me...”

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look desperate or insane?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“I was really hoping you’d say you believed in—”

Bang!

Jerome slammed a hand onto the table. He regarded the documents with a serious glare.

“Speak, tactician. I’ll listen. I see you as trash, but you’re trash that does have some use. But your explanation will determine whether or not I have you locked up with that parasite of an inspector!”

“...Understood.”

Jerome moved his cold gaze to Altina.

“And, Princess: Didn’t you place your trust in this tactician?”

“Trusting in someone doesn’t mean you have to adhere to whatever they say. I trust Regis as someone I can exchange ideas with.”

“Kukukuh... I see.”

“And I trust you too, Sir Jerome. Especially when it comes to your talent with a spear.”

“Hmph. Naturally.”

Jerome urged Regis to explain, so he returned his eyes to the papers.