Chapter 5: White Wolves Unleashed

Regis didn’t return to his room. Instead, he opened the brown door to a room called the Atlas Chamber.

“You’re late!”

A firm finger was thrust at him by the princess, who had already finished changing. She was now wearing her usual high-mobility dress, the Grand Tonnerre Quatre hanging by her hip—she was once again the form that the people of the capital had come to know as the “Arrow-Sparrow Princess.” Though there were few who would call her that now.

Also in the room was Eddie, who had changed from his ceremonial uniform into unornamented military clothes and had the Défendre Sept sheathed at his side. Beside him was Felicia, still disguised in Auguste’s formal wear.

Regis could see his usual uniform was also in the room. His eyes flicked to his pocket watch.

“I don’t have time to change.”

“At least wipe your face!” Altina snapped, using her handkerchief to remove the lipstick from his cheek.

“Wah...”

“Keep still.” Her tone was now suddenly calm, in complete contrast to the fury that was raging in her eyes. She showed no restraint as she mercilessly wiped all around Regis’s mouth.

“...Th-That hurts.”

“What was that? Are you saying you don’t want it gone?”

“Nn... It doesn’t hurt at all. Please continue.”

“Thought so.”

It took a lot of rubbing, but Elenore’s lipstick mark eventually came off. Altina’s disgruntled face glared fixedly at him.

“Regis, do you like older women?”

“...What are you talking about? I’ve never even thought about my taste in women.”

“But there are a lot of women in your stories, aren’t there? Which of them do you like the most?”

“The most? Well, I’d have to think about that... but it’s probably Giddy from Count Ludosel’s Envoy of the Stars—a wonderful, novel, groundbreaking heroine. Who would have thought mist could be so truly fantastic!?”

“Mist? I thought you said her name was Giddy?”

“Hm? Oh, no, she’s a sentient creature of mist. But differences in race are trivial matters. Why, the protagonist, Groys, was a tortoise, after all!”

“...At least keep your examples human.”

“Ah, in that case—there’s this story where a man rents a room in the capital, only for a female ghost to appear, claiming to be the previous resident. Oh, and the ghost’s a pankration master who breaks the protagonist’s arm! Her name’s—”

“I don’t consider ghosts to be human.”

Regis couldn’t stop himself when he started talking about books. He enjoyed them far too much. But they had no time to stand around and chat here. He stepped properly into the room.

“Hey, Regis. Yo.” Eddie tilted his head. “Are we really in danger if we don’t run?”

For some reason, he was speaking in a casual tone as though they were close friends. But Eddie was older than Regis—not to mention a duke—so Regis made sure to continue watching his own words. That aside, the question was unavoidable. They had managed to carry the conversation at the party perfectly. Auguste was now free from the power struggle, while Altina on the contrary now had the support of many nobles.

“...Under normal circumstances we would be able to leave through the front gate, but after everything that has happened tonight I’m afraid it might not be so simple.”

Auguste— That is, Felicia, closed her eyes. “Do you mean I... took things too far?”

“...No matter the plan, there is always a better one out there. If we wracked our brains for another minute or so, perhaps we would think of a resolution that will fix everything like magic. But then again, we might also come up with nothing and end up having wasted crucial time. In the end, we can only take what we see as the best action in the moment. Now is no different.”

All of a sudden, a boisterous din rang out from the corridor, followed by the distinctive footsteps of people wearing heavy armor. Altina and Eddie, most accustomed to the noise, tensed up.

“Heavy armor in the palace!?”

“Hey now, don’t tell me they’re searching for us?”

“...We can’t be sure, but...” Regis paused for a moment. “Well, unless anyone wants to pop out and ask...”

Eddie shook his head. “I’d rather not take that chance. For now, we’re better off running. We can tell Mr. Latrielle we had an upset stomach after the fact.”

Altina offered a wry smile. “Eddie, I see you’re still devoted to that stomach ache excuse.”

“It’s more convincing than a cold, ain’t it?”

“Oh, sure. I’m just surprised you think you actually fooled anyone with it. Especially when you use it every single time.”

“Eh? No way.”

As Eddie started to realize just how conspicuous the excuse had been, Regis pulled the thick curtains back a little and pushed open the window. A cold wind seeped in. The sun was disappearing over the horizon to the west, and while it was still rather bright outside, dark clouds were quickly rolling in. It looked like it was going to rain tonight.

“...We can make it to the courtyard through here. That’s where we’re supposed to meet up with our comrades.”

Felicia edged over to get a better look out of the window, the gold decorations on her male ceremonial uniform jangling as her shoulders bumped against Regis’s. The sudden noise took Regis by surprise; he lurched back defensively, but Felicia continued to move nearer, coming so close that their chests were almost touching.

Though she was still disguised as a man, now that he was looking at Felicia so close up he couldn’t deny that she was a terribly beautiful young woman. She was Altina’s sister, but the two weren’t alike in the slightest; Altina was boisterous, robust, and full of energy, while Felicia was like a serene lake hidden in the depths of a forest. She was like a flower blooming on an otherwise barren plateau, or a sheet of freshly fallen snow—an ephemeral existence that could be gone by the next day.

Felicia looked out the window and swallowed her breath, trying hard to appear unfazed. “...So we’re climbing down from here?”

“That was the plan, but...”

A few years ago, Floream Jean de Weiler had released a best-seller set in the palace called The Lost Pearl Necklace Was in My Pocket. It included a scene where a princess escaped to the courtyard through the window of this very chamber, but... the room was on the third floor, which height-wise would have been the fifth floor of a normal building. They had to be around 30 cubits (13 m) off of the ground.

You’re truly insane, Mr. Floream!

What was presumably the windowsill she had used as a foothold was too narrow for even a rat to cross—it was more of a pattern on the wall than an actual edge. Regis couldn’t see any uneven features on the facade that they would be able to hold onto, let alone set foot on.

The princess in the book had then climbed down a pillar to reach the ground, but the wall was so smooth that she would have needed to carve holds for herself using her bare hands. And the book definitely didn’t mention her having the brute strength that would be required for that.

“How could this be...? I should have done some research myself... I never would have guessed that a best-selling author hadn’t properly checked these details...”

Altina came up beside him and peered down across the courtyard. “Huh? What’s up, Regis? Was the writer lying?”

“N-No, I wouldn’t say he was lying... Besides, factual accuracy alone does not a good story make. In fact, fantasy is the first step to wonderment!”

“Why do you look like you’re going to cry? I’m not really sure what’s going on here, but we just need to climb down from here, right?”

“...That was the plan.”

“And we need to get down quickly, yeah?”

Regis nodded. “Y-Yeah.”

Seemingly in response to their conversation, Eddie suddenly threw the window all the way open; a strong wind barreled in, forcing back the curtains. “I’ll be going ahead then,” he said, before taking Felicia by the waist. She had been nervously looking down at the courtyard, and the sudden contact took her by surprise.

“Hyah!?”

“Felicia... I won’t ask you to hold on tight, but please keep your mouth and eyes closed.”

“O-Okay. Thank you.”

“It’s no big deal.”

He gently picked her up, placing one hand around her back and the other under her knees to support her weight. This was apparently—and very appropriately—called the princess carry.

And so, Felicia instinctively clinging to his shoulder, Eddie jumped out the window as casually as one would take the stairs.

“Hup.”

He jumped without a plan!? Regis hurriedly peered out the window, watching in horror as they fell. Even if Eddie could endure the drop, Felicia would surely be hurt by the sudden impact.

However, at about 15 cubits (7 m) from the ground, Eddie kicked the wall. The speed of their descent suddenly slowed and they landed safely on the ground.

I-Is this some kind of magic...!?

Though a little shaken up, Felicia looked absolutely fine. She was lowered onto the ground, and then waved back up at the window, right as rain.

“...What did he just do?” Regis had to doubt his eyes.

“He kicked off the windowsill. Didn’t you see?”

“...The windowsill? You mean the one that’s too thin for even a rat to walk on?”

“Yeah. As long as it’s at least a finger’s width, you can use it to slow a fall.”

“And he managed that while falling at that speed? That’d be impossible for me... Altina, I don’t think I can get down from here. Our time together may not have been long, but I’ll never forget the days I spent with you. Oh, but, uh... I suppose I won’t be remembering long if they end up killing me immediately. Hey, um, Altina? What do you think you’re—!?”

Altina took off the Grand Tonnerre Quatre and chucked it out the window scabbard and all. A thunderous roar rang out as it struck the ground below.

“All right, your turn!”

“Wh-What are you going to do to me!? I just said I can’t go down that way. It’d be impossible, so don’t even—”

She pulled Regis over by his waist and swept him up, supporting him under his back and knees.

“Close your mouth, close your eyes. O-Oh... But you can hold me if you want.”

“S-Stop!!”

Holding Regis in a princess carry, Altina jumped out the window.

HNNNN—!! The deafening howl of rushing wind filled his ears, and he felt as though he was floating through the air. All the while he could see the ground coming closer, and closer...

Then he was struck by two sudden impacts in quick succession, the last blow forcing all the air from his lungs. Regis was thrown out onto the ground.

“......”

“Regis, does it hurt anywhere?”

“...I was so sure I was dead.”

“You look alive to me.”

“...H-How reckless can you be!?”

Before Regis could even pick himself up, Altina had already re-equipped the sword she had dropped.

“Me and Eddie would’ve been fine even without kicking the wall... But we’re in a hurry, aren’t we?”

“...Yeah, that’s right,” said Regis. This had all happened because he had relied too much on his book and neglected to do his own research.

Eddie lent him a hand, and Regis was back on his feet. The shaking in his knees had nothing to do with the sudden impact; it was simply the fear that he was about to die.

“...Hah... Let’s hurry across the courtyard.”

“This way! You can trust me to lead. I know this place like the back of my hand; it’s my own backyard, after all.”

Though, to her slight embarrassment, it appeared some fences had been added without her knowledge. But they posed little more than a mild inconvenience, as Altina smashed them down using the emperor’s sword.

✧ ✧ ✧

There were three horses waiting for them in a designated spot in the courtyard, and they greeted the group with a loud snort as they approached.

Eric was there already. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, very clearly relieved.

Regis shook his head. “...We were just lucky that our enemy never anticipated we would leap down from the third floor. We haven’t been spotted yet, but in town we’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“So this is the real challenge...”

As she looked over the horses, a smile spread over Altina’s lips. “Oh, this kid is the same one Latrielle gave me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see her again.”

It was a burly chestnut warhorse. Its mane and tail were a dusty gold, and a patch of white covered its left hind leg from the knee down.

“I had my doubts as well, but the stable hands were very cooperative.”

“I see. That’s fantastic!”

When one of Altina’s subordinates had said they needed three horses, it was possible a sympathetic stable hand had understood the crisis they were in. But at the same time, the fact the enemy hadn’t already secured the stables made Regis feel as though everything was going much too smoothly. He could only hope that things would continue as such until they were at least out of the capital.

“...Let’s hurry.”

“Um, Mr. Regis...” There was a touch of remorse in Eric’s voice.

“What is it?”

“Truth be told, I was unable to get us a light carriage. They only had slower, more extravagant ones, which wouldn’t have been any use to us.”

“...I see. Well, there’s nothing we can do about that. It’s my fault for not being able to ride a horse.”

Then I suppose this is where we part ways... Regis realized. He could hardly be tasked to escape on foot. I’ll have Altina escape on the horse, and I’ll stay here and find a house to lay low in.

Felicia hung her head. “...I can’t ride either.”

“Oh, is that so? Then you can ride with me.”

Eddie grabbed Felicia by the waist and hoisted her up to get onto his horse as though she weighed nothing at all.

“Hyah!?”

“Easy now, otherwise you’ll be bucked off.”

Felicia immediately fell silent. Once she had mounted the horse, Eddie jumped on behind her. The well-trained warhorse remained unperturbed by the added weight.

“Good, good... That’s a good boy. Horse, Felicia—you’d both do well to follow my words.”

Regis was having a terrible premonition when, all of a sudden, a hand gripped onto his belt and tugged him forward.

“W-Wait, Altina! Even if your horse can support both of our weights, you also need to consider how heavy your sword is!”

“Don’t be stupid, Regis. I’d always choose you, even if it meant having to leave my sword behind.”

“...Please don’t do that.”

“Then quit your jabbering and keep quiet like Felicia.”

“...G-Got it.” Regis finally resigned himself, and with Altina’s assistance he managed to straddle the horse. Whenever he had mounted a horse in the past, this was the point where it would grow irritated and rear him off. But this time, that didn’t happen.

“Why hasn’t it...?”

“Probably because you’re always so reluctant to get on. They find that insulting, you know.”

“I’m reluctant because I know how much it hurts if you fall off.”

“But when you’re riding it’s nice and comfortable. It’s worth the risk, if you ask me.”

“...I’ve never actually ridden before, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Well that’s about to change.”

The three horses were ready to depart. Regis and Altina were on one, Felicia and Eddie on another, and Eric sat alone on the third.

Altina used the reins to turn her horse. In fact, she didn’t even appear to have pulled the reins; the horse seemed to be turning on its own.

“Clever girl.”

“Looks like it.”

“I’ll have to think of a name for her.”

“...Once we’re back in one piece, sure.”

They ran alongside the palace wall. Even the courtyard alone was considerably vast. Altina spurred on her horse, and Eddie’s and Eric’s mounts sped up to match her pace. The white palace, the fences, the grass, the flower beds, the soldiers on watch... All of the scenery disappeared behind them.

Felicia looked like she was about to cry, and Regis could barely stop his eyes from watering either. Given the situation, he couldn’t really ask Altina to slow down, but they were going so fast it terrified him.

“Ah, that’s right, Mr. Regis!” Eric called out, his horse drawing closer.

“W-W-Waah!?”

Not only did they have to endure the repeated bouncing as they rode, the heavy beat of hooves meant they needed to shout to hear one another.

“I entrusted Ms. Clarisse and Lillim to Abidal-Evra!”

“Ah, yah!”

Unaccustomed to the shaking, Regis found himself unable to form words. But all was well so long as the two girls were able to escape safely too.

Assuming everything had gone to plan, Abidal-Evra and his men would have already fled the capital by now. A mere eight horsemen weren’t going to make much of a difference for what Regis had planned, and he didn’t want to risk making any unnecessary sacrifices. So long as Altina and Felicia could get away, it was their victory.

Though he doubted it would be as simple as strolling through the main gate; they passed through the courtyard and into the backyard, charging toward the service entrance used by freight wagons and servants.

“Knights up ahead!” screamed Eric.

There were roughly ten knights armed with spears manning the gate, all clad in blue-colored armor. Regis was finally getting acclimated to the horse’s bouncing. He looked up, the gears in his head once again starting to turn.

“It’s the capital garrison!” he shouted, “I don’t know how much they’ve heard about us, but there’ll be serious trouble if they stop us!”

“Are they strong!?” asked Altina.

“They’re sons of well-to-do families who haven’t seen a day of real battle in their lives!”

“I see!”

“Please don’t go too hard on them...!”

“So you’re saying they’re an easy win!”

“Wait, Altina!”

“Duck!”

Before the words had even passed her lips, Altina had already pushed Regis forward so that he was leaning against the horse’s neck.

“...Erk.”

“Have at thee! Chaaargeee!!” She bellowed as if she was rallying an army of ten thousand men even though only Eddie and Eric were riding behind her.

The garrison knights hurriedly readied their lances. They would normally only be pointed at someone approaching from the outside, but...

“H-Halt!”

As expected, it seemed they had been ordered not to let them pass.

...Not that there was any chance Altina would listen to them. Her horse didn’t even slow down.

“I am Marie Quatre Argentina de Belgaria! If my name alone isn’t enough to move you, then I shall spare you no mercy!”

At her command, five of the men stepped back. But the remaining five still pointed their spears.

Altina released the reins, using her knees to grip the horse’s torso to support herself. Then, she raised the Grand Tonnerre Quatre in both hands.

“Haaaaaaaah!!”

She brought her sword down, cutting through the line of spears before her in one fell swoop.

Regis held his head in his hands. Altina’s decision to aim for their weapons and push through was a reckless one, let alone doing so while on horseback. Speaking of which, this chestnut horse seemed to be just as careless. This was only the second time she had ridden the horse, and yet it was already charging fearlessly into spears following its master’s will.

“How do you have such a close bond already!?”

“Oh, I’ve been tending to her every morning, you know?”

“Now it makes sense!”

That would have explained why the stable hands had been so kind. But if she’d wanted me to charge... Forget three days, you could look after me for three years and I wouldn’t run headlong into spears, thought Regis.

“That sure is a convenient sword!” Eddie commented as he gave chase.

“Want to swap!?”

“Hah! Don’t think I’d even be able to lift it, so no can do!”

“Ahahahah!”

Eddie wasn’t joking. It was a sword so heavy that any normal person would struggle to even carry it around. Had they been riding any other horse, it would have likely been impossible to swing from horseback. But it was also because of this weight that the blade had such immense destructive power. It struck as ferociously as lightning; in a single sweep, Altina had cleaved the garrison’s spears and scattered its troops. Granted, the garrison had gained a reputation as an army for show, lacking in all experience, but the princess was a force to be reckoned with nonetheless.

As they breached the service gate, Regis pointed ahead. “Keep going! Down the north street!”

“Understood!”

“...Though I imagine we’ll be pursued. And by real knights this time,” Regis sighed. Though I hope I’m wrong on that one...

But unfortunately, it all played out just as he had feared. They had galloped down the main street and made it outside the capital, but the moment they cleared the first hill a group on horseback gave chase, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.

Regis turned his head, looking back to confirm his suspicions. Under the pale westering sun, their white metal armor appeared to be tinted red.

“...They’re not hoisting a flag, but there’s no mistaking it... It’s the White Wolf Brigade!”

They were recognized as the central pillar of the First Army.

“Those are the knights who came out to greet us when we first arrived, right? You think they’re here to see us off?”

“Want to try asking?”

“We might as well. If they can catch us, that is.”

Armored cavalry were usually relatively slow compared to other mounted riders, but as both Altina’s and Eddie’s horses were carrying the weight of an extra person, the distance between them and their pursuers was gradually closing.

Regis closed his eyes tight, opening a map in his head that he had burned into his memory. Then, he pointed in the direction Altina should proceed.

“Go to that hill over there!”

“Why there!?”

“It’s our only chance of survival.”

“Regis, the horse is nearing its limit.”

“If we can just reach the top...”

“If we push her that far, we’ll lose our best means of escape!”

Despite this, they headed for the hill that looked no different from any other. From the perspective of the advancing knights, perhaps it looked as though they had strayed from the path and were now running aimlessly. It was one of many plain hills surrounding the capital, and consisted of nothing but low grass; it wasn’t the sort of place where someone could hide.

The horse’s hooves kicked up mud as they passed through a strip of wetland, deep enough that even a warhorse would be slowed. Their pursuers hadn’t opted to use guns or bows yet, so it seemed they had been ordered to bring the prince and princess back alive. In order for Latrielle to regain his lost ground, he needed to capture Auguste and reveal once and for all that he was a fake. This would invalidate his recommendation of Altina, removing the main obstacle in his path to the throne.

Still clinging to the bounding horse, Regis mumbled to himself. “...Prince Latrielle, you are a military man—one who will ultimately fall back onto his troops. It is only natural that I anticipate and prepare for this situation. No, are these Sir Germain’s tactics?”

The scent of oil struck his nose as the horse dragged its muddy hooves through the remaining marsh, finally reaching the crown of the hill. The world around them was already being shrouded in twilight.

“...If we had a little more time, I’d have liked to ride a carriage.”

“Not everything can go as planned.”

“That’s very true. But for us, it seems that everything is going exactly as planned.”

Eddie’s horse arrived at the summit, Felicia still clinging on, shortly followed by Eric’s. The horses were very clearly worn down, and were breathing very heavily.

The White Wolf Brigade cleared the wetland and began the climb themselves. Had they been granted permission to use arrows, they would have attacked by now; they were close enough that a clean shot would be easy. Leading the charge was what appeared to be the knight captain, and Regis watched as his white steel armor shone under the fading light of dusk.

“My name is Constant Felix de Bartouli!” the white armor-clad man announced, “Prince Auguste, I ask that you please return to the capital at once!”

“I refuse!” called Eddie, responding in Felicia’s place.

It seemed their decision ultimately meant very little to the White Wolf Brigade, as Knight Captain Constant immediately loosed his longsword from his hip. It glimmered a radiant silver.

“Then we shall bring you back by force!” he yelled, spurring the knights behind him to draw their swords in unison.

The enemy numbered around a thousand. They had cleared around three hills since leaving the capital, but their numbers didn’t appear to have waned in the slightest; as expected of the Empire’s strongest elites.

Altina raised her sword into the air. “I assume you know who I am. Despite that, you say you will force me to bend to your will? Are you truly knights of Belgaria, or have you become little more than Latrielle’s private army?”

“Prince Auguste must be brought back for the sake of the Empire!” Constant declared, “That is what I believe!”

“Then act on your faith! But know that I won’t yield, no matter my foe!”

“Gnn!”

Words were no longer needed. Constant raised his arm to order the attack, and the muddy White Wolves charged up the hill at once. Those leading the charge were close enough that Regis was sure he would be able to tell the colors of their eyes; retreat was now impossible.

Altina lowered her massive sword. That was the signal. A roar rose behind her, quickly followed by a thunder of hooves as an army of knights wearing black armor came into view.

Taken by surprise, the enemy charge lost all momentum.

“...Jerome’s Black Knight Brigade!?” Constant groaned, “So they baited us... but they’re still only five hundred country knights! Our elites shall not lose! Charge! Chaaarge! Don’t let Prince Auguste get away!”

Just as he tried to reinvigorate the charge, a flaming arrow landed among the White Wolves. It had been fired from the Black Knights. A flame arrow was generally ineffective against cavalry, and so would have been of very little concern, but some were finally beginning to notice the offensive odor clinging to them.

“It’s oil!” A voice rose from among the White Wolf Brigade’s ranks, but it was already too late. The strip of wetland had been lain with vegetable oil, a substance that used rapeseed as its base component and could be purchased for dirt cheap around the capital. It didn’t matter whether it was fish oil or lard—any oil burned terribly well, and a number of barrels’ worth had been emptied.

The marsh erupted into a glorious pillar of crimson flame, accompanied by a cacophony of agonized screams. Inside the red inferno floated the shadows of writhing horsemen. Some who had managed to stay on horseback had made it out relatively unscathed, only to be faced with the lances of the Black Knights.

Constant’s breath caught in his throat. His men were on fire. Elites were being turned to ash or impaled on spears without so much as a chance to brandish the skills they had tempered all their lives.

“O-Oooooooohh—!” he screamed, his voice breaking in a mix of rage and lament.

A black shadow appeared right before his eyes. “Hmph. Fool. If you knew how to issue any order other than ‘charge’ then your men wouldn’t have become firewood.”

“Black Knight Jerome... You... You coward! Have you strayed from the path of a knight and become a demon!?”

“Kukukuh... It just so happens that our tactician is great at thinking up these deplorable measures. Of course, if you had noticed the oil and halted your charge, the flames would have been no more than a hindrance.” Jerome raised his spear, Les Cheveux d’une Dame. “You really are incompetent!”

Constant readied his own sword. “You’re a greenhorn who’s let praise get to his head! A hero? Don’t make me laugh! Your achievements are only because the Germanian Federation is a gathering of weaklings!”

“Kukukuh... Well, I hear they laud you lot as the Empire’s strongest. But what have you accomplished these past three years? A troupe of fools who shamble about the nation parading their flag.”

“You mock the Empire’s First Army!?”

“Guhahah! Most of that army you’re so proud of is burning alive thanks to your complete lack of brains!”

“You bastard!”

Constant thrust out his longsword, his eyes bloodshot. It was a sharp lunge, as to be expected of someone who had climbed to the rank of knight captain, but Jerome simply parried the attack with his lance’s armguard, all while urging his horse to pull back a little. After all, lances were most effective at a distance.

“Hah!” Jerome then pushed forward, driving into three—perhaps even four—thrusts in an instant. It was the same attack that had butchered an enemy knight in the battle to take Fort Volks.

“Too slow, Jerome! Is that all you’ve got!?” Constant released the reins of his horse and drew a second sword, now wielding one in each hand, which he used to deflect the flurry of attacks.

“Hm. I assumed the palace wine would have dulled your skills, but...”

“I don’t drink!”

“My apologies for assuming. So you were stupid to begin with.”

“Shut it, you half-wit!” Constant had caught Jerome’s lance with his left sword, while his right was aimed directly at his opponent’s heart.

Jerome smirked. “...Trying to ward off my attack with a single hand? You take me too lightly.”

“...!?”

He thrust his spear forward at the same speed as before, but the force behind the attack was completely different. His first strike caused a crack down the blade of Constant’s left sword, and the second shattered it completely. And before Constant could reposition his remaining sword to defend himself, Jerome moved into a third strike, piercing the white steel armor like paper.

“Gphh!?”

“You know, I forgot to ask. The Empire’s First Army has three knight brigades; where does yours rank among them? Don’t you dare disappoint me and say you’re the strongest... Mn?”

The knight captain of the White Wolf Brigade offered no response. He was dead. As Jerome pulled his lance from the man’s chest, Constant fell from his horse.

“Tsk, how unsightly... A rider who keeps his legs firm won’t be taken from the saddle, even in death. You say the Germanians are weak, but their knight returned on his trusty steed.”

Had Regis not been riding with her, would Altina have charged into battle herself? She had watched Jerome and Constant’s battle without so much as blinking.

“He’s incredible, that man.”

“...Sir Jerome is indeed strong... Though that exchange was much too quick for me to follow.”

“Was he holding back when he fought me?”

“Well, given the difference between your weapons and your fighting styles, it would depend on the circumstances. If you were on horseback, Sir Jerome would most likely be stronger than you.”

“Do you think he’s stronger than Latrielle?”

“...Don’t ask me.”

“I reckon Sir Jerome would win in a battle on horseback, and Mr. Latrielle in an up-close duel,” Eddie answered in his place, “And while a lance is stronger on the battlefield, a battle indoors or somewhere in close quarters would be a different story.”

“I see.”

“Though your giant sword is a special case, Argentina. It can’t really be used as reference,” Eddie added with a shrug, bringing the topic of conversation to an end.

“All that aside, was this fire your idea, Regis?” Altina asked.

“Yes. I thought there was a decent chance we would be pursued by the Empire’s First Army.”

“How did you foresee something like that!?”

“Well, he went out of his way to summon us to the capital, so surely Prince Latrielle had some kind of scheme in mind. In that case, if we were able to evade what he had planned or even turn the tables on him, there was a good chance we’d end up ruining our foe’s reputation in the process. Whether you consider it from an emotional or a rational point of view, a man who controls the armies would no doubt rely on them in the end. Is that not an obvious conclusion to reach?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “O-Obvious? Uh, yeah...”

Meanwhile, Felicia appeared completely disengaged from the conversation.

“It does sound obvious when you put it like that, but it never would have occurred to me.” Altina gave a resigned shrug. “You never know what’ll happen once you set out, so the most I figured I could do was be as careful as I could.”

“...Is that so?”

“Did you have a reason to use fire in particular?”

“I did. The First Army largely follows the knights’ code, and they’re a prideful bunch. Based on how much they value fighting honorably, I was pretty sure they wouldn’t consider an oil trap.”

“Jerome might be right. That really is deplorable.”

“Well, personally, I’d say when you’ve got an army of a thousand knights chasing five people, all notions of acting fair and square go right out the window.”

“...You do have a point.”

“Now then, Altina, let’s fall back a little.”

“But that’ll make it hard to see the enemy.”

“We’ve already dealt with the bulk of them. Jerome should have trumpeters among his ranks, so let’s fall back to them and have them blow the signal to retreat.”

“We’re retreating already?”

“Yeah, we have to. If we push back any more, we’ll be going too far. We need them to return to the capital in some shape or form.”