Preface: Progress Report

Regis had already left his tent and arrived at his destination by the time the sun had crawled up over the eastern horizon. He now stood among the mass of trees running up the mountainside; they were densely packed for the most part, but areas of deforestation revealed the loamy red soil underfoot.

There were many soldiers at work, but they weren’t readying themselves for battle. Rather, they stabbed their shovels into the earth with single-minded focus.

The commander of the sappers saluted upon spotting Regis. “Glad you could make it, Strategist Aurick!”

“...A pleasure.”

Regis was officially no more than a strategic adviser, but he decided not to dwell on the matter—after all, he was only working with the First Army temporarily. Even so, rumors were starting to spread that Latrielle had reached out to him personally, and now the soldiers muttered among themselves with wide-eyed stares.

“So that’s the magician...”

“He’s won every battle he’s fought against High Britannia, right?”

“Volks was deemed impenetrable for forty-odd years, yet this guy captured it with only two thousand men.”

“He lost just yesterday, though, didn’t he?”

“Shh! He might hear you!”

Indeed, it was just yesterday that the Empire’s First Army had attempted to attack Grebeauvoir’s iron-processing district with siege weapons. Their efforts were ultimately in vain, and while the operation did serve as a diversion of sorts, there was no getting around all the lives that were lost in the process.

Despite his lowly rank, Regis was still a staff officer, so the troops would not criticize or mock him openly. Based on the conversations he had overheard, it seemed he hadn’t fully lost his credibility yet, but there was no telling what would happen after another loss.

Regis scratched his head. The rumors going around—namely, that he was asked to tag along by the second prince himself—were not entirely untrue, but the circumstances were much less flattering than they outwardly appeared.

✧ ✧ ✧

Regis thought back on his promotion examination to become a third-grade administrative officer, focusing in particular on his last visit to Minister Berard of the Ministry of Military Affairs before his departure.

When Regis had told Latrielle that he wished to explain the circumstances behind his sudden leave to the minister, the second prince had offered to accompany him there; the Ministry was set up inside the palace, meaning it wasn’t much of a walk, and the devil was in the details.

It was abnormal for the marshal general—the man who oversaw every single one of the Empire’s armies—to waste his time on a mere fifth-grade admin officer, and while Regis had started to wonder how acceptable it was to take up such an offer, he was in no position to refuse.

And so, Regis headed for the Ministry, walking meekly behind the prince. Berard was sitting in his office, but he shot up into a panicked salute the moment Latrielle made his abrupt entrance.

“Y-Your Excellency! What brings you here?!” he stammered. “I would have come at once if you had called for me!”

“No need,” Latrielle replied, calmly shaking his head. “This will take no time at all. It is about the promotion examination.”

“Sir! Is there an issue?!”

“I wish to conduct Regis d’Aurick’s examination on-site.”

“Re...gis...?” It was only then that the minister realized Regis was there at all. “You little...!” he growled, pointing a sharp finger at the tactician before suddenly remembering himself. “Ah, err... Fancy seeing you here.”

“The, er... The pleasure is mine,” Regis replied, lowering his head. “Sorry for the sudden intrusion.”

“Sir Regis here is scheduled to undertake his promotion examination to become a third-grade, correct?” Latrielle asked.

Berard nodded. “Y-Yes... A quick check to ensure he has everything memorized, coupled with a simple practical test.”

The practical apparently required one to display their sword-fighting skills, so Regis was absolutely certain he would fail no matter how low the bar was set. Unless the examiner was miraculously blinded the very moment Regis swung his sword, he would surely assume it was all some kind of joke and scold the tactician for not taking things seriously enough. The moment the poor instructor then realized that Regis was indeed giving it his all, he would no doubt obstinately demand a retest.

Regis did not care about losing his promotion—he did not have much interest in advancing his career to begin with—but regulations meant he was required to keep retaking the test until he passed.

If only there was a way to avoid taking the practical entirely... Regis had hoped. Taking the proper exam would almost certainly result in him having to redo it again and again, trapping him in a torturous cycle until the very last days of his pitiful existence.

“I’m sure you’re aware, Berard, but...Grebeauvoir has been occupied,” Latrielle went on. “It seems a great many soldiers and civilians have been captured also. We must retake the city without a moment’s hesitation, but our resources are limited, and we must consider the safety of the capital as well.”

“Of course. I received the report,” Berard replied. “The circumstances are regrettable indeed.”

“That is why I’ve decided to take Regis with me on the campaign.”

“What?! But he’s the Fourth Princess’s—”

“He is a close aide of my sister Argentina, yes. It will only be a temporary transfer, lasting until Grebeauvoir is liberated.”

“...That shouldn’t be too much of an issue then.”

Latrielle grinned. “Even I don’t plan on using the nation’s crisis to gain an advantage in these petty struggles for power.”

I don’t doubt that he’s an upright man who likes to do things fairly, but does he truly believe he’s so far ahead that he doesn’t need to take his opponents’ personnel...? Regis wondered. The second prince’s confidence certainly wasn’t misplaced; once High Britannia and Langobarti were driven out of the country, nobody could stop him from proclaiming his succession rights and taking the throne.

“I am petitioning Sir Regis not as some political gambit, but for purely militaristic reasons,” Latrielle continued.

“I-Is he really that great...?” Berard asked, looking at Regis dubiously. “Say he does get promoted; he’d still only be a measly third-grade.”

The minister seemed completely incredulous, and for good reason. Regis looked much too unreliable to be a soldier—he was notably slender, his posture left much to be desired, and his voice lacked any semblance of confidence.

Regis sighed. I understand where he’s coming from. I can’t say I trust myself either...

Latrielle offered a wry smile. “If you know of another tactician who could conquer Fort Volks while at a numerical disadvantage, best a fleet of steamships, and annihilate a supply unit armed with the latest guns and cannons, please introduce me to them. I would rather not be in Argentina’s debt, you see.”

“Ah, yes. That’s—”

“There is no better man for the job. Failure is not permitted, and we are in a race against the clock. I have no time to wait for his exam to finish,” Latrielle said curtly, his tone making it clear that he would not accept anything less than his suggestion.

Berard reluctantly hung his head. “You are correct. Should you decide to hold Regis’s examination on-site, there is no conceivable way anyone would object to the results.”

“Good. In that case, I leave the paperwork to you.”

“Understood.”

In the end, the matter was resolved without Regis needing to say very much at all. He and Latrielle exited the minister’s office and started walking back along the corridor, just the two of them, when a young officer came into view. The man frantically moved to the wall the moment he spotted the second prince, scrambling into a salute before freezing like a statue.

As he passed, Regis noticed the young officer looking somewhat perplexed. That came as no surprise, since the position beside Latrielle was almost always occupied by Germain.

Truth be told, Regis had no further business in the palace. There was nothing preventing him from going on his way, but after bothering the marshal general himself, he thought it would come across as rather presumptuous to simply leave. Competent enough at reading the situation, he instead waited for Latrielle to dismiss him.

“Well, everything should now be in place for your promotion, Regis. Though I still think third-grade isn’t nearly enough for you...”

“On the contrary! You really saved me there, Marshal General, sir. Thank you ever so much.”

“It’s a little too early for that. Save your gratitude for when—or rather, if—we manage to recapture Grebeauvoir.”

“Oh, that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Hm. I’ve never taken you for the confident sort.”

“Me? Oh, no. I’ve just memorized a thing or two, that’s all. Assuming the situation is as I suspect, we shouldn’t have any problems taking back the city. All that remains is figuring out how to save the captives, and how to keep casualties as low as possible.”

Upon hearing those words, Latrielle glanced over at Regis with wide eyes; then he let out a chuckle.

✧ ✧ ✧

Regis sighed. He couldn’t bring himself to tell all the soldiers gazing at him with awe and respect that he was actually there to avoid taking the Ministry’s standard practical exam.

The sapper captain spread out a blueprint on a nearby table. “Here’s how things are looking at the moment,” he said.

“I see, I see... Everything seems to be going steady.”

“It is! All we’ve really done is move dirt around, though. Is this really going to help liberate the city?”

“Yes, that’s the plan.”

The captain turned his eyes south toward Grebeauvoir, but it wasn’t possible to see the city from where they were standing. “Are we building the foundation for a fort here? If so, we’re better off making it on the south side, closer to the capital. What exactly are you putting us up to?”

“Yes, well... I understand your question, but...” Regis hesitated; he had deliberately avoided giving the sappers all the necessary diagrams to minimize the risk of the plan being leaked.

The enemy had already been prepared for his scheme during their most recent engagement. He hadn’t given any potential conspirators time to meet or relay any messages, so he was sure he had simply lost in a battle of wits. Even so, there was no harm in a bit of extra caution. He had arranged things so that the isolated work of several teams would ultimately come together as one.

Regis cleared his throat. “This plan is probably going to be worth our while, so...I would really appreciate it if you could trust me and go along with it.”

“Right. O-Of course. I’ve never doubted your plans!”

“Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a look at the other sites.”

With that, Regis gave a middling salute and then went on his way.

✧ ✧ ✧

Belgaria’s First Army had set up camp sixty arpents (4,387 m) from the occupied city of Grebeauvoir. By the time Regis had returned after visiting all the teams, it was time for lunch.

Regis returned the salutes of the sentries outside the troop headquarters before stepping inside the canopied tent. When he was with Altina, he was able to sort his papers and read books without paying much attention to his surroundings, but he couldn’t imagine the First Army would permit such a lack of decorum.

Latrielle was sitting with his arms folded at the back of the tent, with Germain to his side. The eyes of the other officers gathered around the long table all focused on Regis, and a young knight among them spoke up in an irritated tone.

“How goes the plan, Tactician?”

He was Batteren, commander of the White Hare Brigade.

“Relatively smoothly...” Regis replied.

The First Army’s recent failure had resulted in a strained, tense atmosphere. Their infiltration mission had proven a success, so it wasn’t all for naught, but the imperial army had still lost a great number of very fine soldiers. It was understandable why so many harsh eyes were now fixed on Regis, who had proposed the idea in the first place.

“I understand we’ve now got a better grasp on yesterday’s losses,” Latrielle said, prompting his aide.

“Right away.” Germain took out a sheet of paper and began reading aloud the figures. “No damage to our three thousand cavalry. We have lost six hundred gunners and seven cannons. Of our foot soldiers...we have lost three thousand, leaving us with eleven thousand.”

“I see...” Regis replied with a nod. Try as he might, he could muster no other response. His heart ached at the knowledge that three thousand men had given their lives in the attack, but he was the one who had devised the plan in the first place; he could not afford to show weakness, lest it make the others grow anxious.

Regis did not care about his own reputation in the slightest, but if something in his reaction caused the plan to stall, it would make their rescue operation even harder to complete. He kept his lips pursed, doing his best to keep any signs of unrest from reaching his face.

“Were these figures within your expectations?” Batteren asked, watching Regis with harsh eyes.

They were, but saying that outright would only invite further irritation. Regis needed to avoid making the officers hostile toward him at all costs; should the on-site commanders decide to ignore his plan, defeat would be inevitable.

“I swear to you,” Regis began, choosing his words carefully, “I do not think lightly of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for this operation.”

Batteren fell silent. He certainly didn’t take too favorably to Regis, but he was still in the main camp, in front of the supreme commander, and Germain was not yet finished with his report. For those reasons, he complained only in hushed murmurs. While young and emotional, it seemed that he was at least capable of self-restraint.

“Our food stockpile is more than sufficient, and we have secured a steady supply of water and firewood,” Germain went on. “We are running through our food much quicker than usual due to our many sappers, but we are still receiving supplies from the capital, so this should not be an issue.”

Here in the First Army, it was the duty of the logistics officers to ensure that food and other supplies were being shipped from the capital. This was a far cry from the Fourth Army, where Regis had to arrange it all himself.

“Any information on the enemy?” Latrielle asked.

“Yes. It is believed that thirty of their cannons were destroyed in combat, though they still have fifty visible atop the walls.”

“If we exchanged fire in our current condition, is there a chance we could win?”

“Our army has twenty-three cannons remaining. If all goes the same as yesterday, we just might—”

“If we make such a move, the First Army will suffer massive losses to both its foot soldiers and artillery,” Regis interjected, trying to stop the idea from gaining any further momentum. “We should avoid engaging them again, instead focusing on national defense henceforth.”

Latrielle nodded. “Indeed. We must avoid any unnecessary losses.”

According to Germain’s report, the shroud bridge had since been burned down—there was of course no reason for the enemy to leave it there—and soldiers with rifles now lined the tops of the ramparts.

“What’s next on the schedule, Regis?” Latrielle asked.

“For now, we must place our faith in Officer Varèse. If we do not receive a signal from him within five days, we will carry on with our mission.”

“And there won’t be a signal if the man is caught or shot dead.”

“Unfortunately so... But under those circumstances, there is nothing else we can do.”

“Do you mean to say we’d give up on the captives?”

“...I’m afraid so.”

It was a hard decision to make, but Regis hadn’t managed to lay much groundwork for this campaign. By allowing the siege to continue any longer than was necessary, Belgaria ran the risk of enemy reinforcements arriving or other nations joining the fray. This would complicate the plan further, but above all else, it would result in yet more casualties.

No matter how many civilians were being held captive, Regis could not trade them for all the elites of the First Army. A soldier’s duty was to protect the people—this he believed—but losing such a crucial military force in this battle to reclaim Grebeauvoir would mean exposing far more civilians to danger.

All eyes were gathered on this battlefield. There were certainly scouts from all over, and Belgaria would need to demonstrate its strength...or else.