Chapter 2: Narissa of the Western Sea

The Fourth Army marched toward the western coast. Despite them having discarded their supplies to travel faster, the bad weather and growing fatigue slowed the soldiers’ steps, making the journey take a few more days than anticipated.

May 29th, the evening of the seventh day—

Without the necessary facilities to set up camp, the army’s base of operations had become quite shabby: a small table and some chairs, sectioned off using linen cloth. Having been summoned by Altina, Regis was once again subjected to crisp salutes by the armored foot soldiers standing on guard as he brushed the cloth aside to enter.

“Pardon me.”

“Glad you could make it, Regis!”

As it was the custom in the Belgarian Empire to never allow noblemen or noblewomen to sit on the floor, chairs were a must even on the battlefield. Three had already been prepared, two of which were empty. Altina was seated in the furthest one, while Clarisse stood nearby with her back to the cloth partition.

Regis took the nearest seat. “...Now that I think about it, this is probably your first time camping without a tent. Are you sleeping okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Back when I was a kid, I’d sometimes nap on the open plains. Are the soldiers holding up okay?”

“For now, at least... It’s a forced march, but because you’re taking the initiative and sleeping with just a thin cloth yourself, they can’t really complain.”

“Well, we’re feeding them plenty to compensate.”

“Yes, that’s the most important part—we prepared even more food than usual. Even though they’re in a tough spot, it’s hard for them to protest when they’re getting their fill. ‘He who eats best, wins most!’ That’s what the great hero Roman wrote in Why My Military Is Supreme.”

“Precisely.” Altina nodded a strong affirmative; she was always saying that she felt completely devoid of strength when her stomach was empty. “It’d be great if the other armies followed our example and prepared more as well.”

“Yeah... That would be tough to put into practice, though—you’d need more people to transport it, and more people means more food required.”

“But we’re doing it. How does that work out?”

“We’re getting our food supplies from towns along the way. By restocking in the middle of our expedition, we don’t have to carry as much.”

“I see... Huh? But this expedition was kinda spur of the moment. Have you been sending horses ahead to place orders?”

“Doing that would have been risky, given the limited amount of time we have to work with. If a purchase hadn’t gone through, then our soldiers would starve. And if the merchants in these towns found out we needed the food no matter what, they might take advantage of us. We’re maintaining food stocks at certain posts, periodically buying and selling to keep the supply from going bad.”

“Is that what the other armies do?”

“Not as far as I’m aware. We rarely mount expeditions within the Empire’s borders, so it wouldn’t work under most circumstances... In short, we’re pretty much buying what’s cheap, then selling it again when the price goes up. Anything we don’t see an increase for, our army gets to use. The market price of cooking ingredients fluctuates quite wildly, you see.”

“Hm... That sounds kind of amazing...” Altina said, a sparkle in her eyes. “So that’s what we’re doing.”

Regis simply shrugged. “Don’t look at me; I’m not the one doing the actual transactions. It’s hard to do business near the capital from out on Fort Volks, so I had Elenore help out.”

Elenore Ailred Winn de Tiraso Laverde was the granddaughter of a duke, and while she was only a young woman, she wielded enough authority to make her the de facto head of her house. Her booming enterprise dealt with large-scale plantations in the south, as well as many local specialties. She’d been saved by Regis once before, and had since then proven all too eager to help him out.

“Hmm...” Altina’s tone dropped, though Regis remained none the wiser.

“The best way to get a grasp on the country’s economic situation is to stick your hands in, even if only on a small scale. I won’t say you’re guaranteed to make a profit, but it prepares you for what’s to come. Plus, building relationships with merchants can prove pretty useful down the line.”

“...So you want to build a relationship with Ms. Elenore?” Altina asked. Her voice was ice-cold.

Regis suddenly remembered that Elenore had once jokingly kissed him on the cheek, which had made the princess considerably displeased.

Still standing beside the cloth partition, Clarisse let out a deep sigh. “Good grief, you really are a Regis.”

“Err... Are you still hung up on that? She was just playing around, right?”

And as that exchange went on—

“I’m coming in.” A solemn voice echoed out, quickly followed by Jerome marching through the partition. While he was still wearing his sword on his belt, he had removed his helmet and armor.

Altina remained seated, but placed a hand on her hip in frustration. “Well, aren’t you late.”

“Hmph.” Jerome plopped down into the open seat, not even offering an excuse. Meanwhile, Clarisse poured warm tea for everyone.

No sooner had Regis pressed the cup to his lips than he spoke out in surprise. “This is incredible, Ms. Clarisse. It’s hard enough to boil water without a stove, and the taste isn’t in any way inferior to the usual.”

“I am glad it is to your tastes, sir,” she answered flatly, before deeply bowing her head. She barely ever spoke around those she hadn’t opened up to. When only Regis and Altina were present, she would often laugh, joke, and tease... But as soon as Jerome entered, every shred of expression was hidden away and she became someone else entirely.

Altina took a sip and smiled. “Thanks for doing this, Clarisse.”

“...My pleasure.” She bowed again, then moved back against the cloth wall, as unmoving as an ornament.

Jerome placed his finger on the map on the table. He seemed to have no interest in the tea, instead wetting his lips with a bottle of wine he’d brought in with him.

“Oi, Regis. We’ll be at Fort Letroisti tomorrow, right?”

Fort Letroisti was half a day’s march from Port Ciennbourg—which was currently occupied by High Britannia—and was where the survivors from the Second Army had been stationed, as well as troops gathered from the surrounding territories. They numbered over ten thousand according to a messenger, making them a substantial force.

Regis tilted his head, still holding his teacup in one hand. “I’m not too sure. In preparation for the future, we should establish contact to ensure their cooperation. But right now I want to meet with the navy, and we don’t have a second to lose.”

Jerome nodded. “So we should hurry to the sea.”

“...Yes, but we still need the soldiers at Fort Letroisti. If we just send an urgent order at the last second, we likely won’t be able to coordinate any strategic action.”

“You decide what we’re gonna do, then,” Jerome grunted. “It’s not like the princess can.”

“Mrk...” Altina pouted. “Well, I can’t, I’ll admit, but... Mn...”

Regis fell into thought for a moment. “I think we should split into two forces. I’ll meet with the fleet and prepare for the operation.”

“Oh? Then what about me!?” Altina asked, eagerly starting to rise from her seat.

“Naturally, I’ll need you to go to the Second Army. Sir Jerome, I’m counting on you to guard the princess.”

“Hmph. I knew it,” Jerome said with a nod.

But he wouldn’t just be serving as her guard. Having Jerome—a man renowned for his military prowess—accompany Altina was sure to make the Second Army’s officers more inclined to follow her lead than if she had gone alone. That said, she had a letter from Latrielle, was of a higher military rank, and was a member of royalty, so Regis could see them obeying her regardless.

Altina froze midway through standing up, her eyes wide open. “Regis! It’s dangerous for you to go alone!”

“We’re in a race against time. I assume hostilities are already taking place near the capital, and while I can’t imagine a fort defended by General Latrielle will fall too easily, the casualties will only increase the longer we take. And if our losses are too great, it will defeat the whole purpose of severing the enemy’s supply chain.”

“You’re right about that...”

“What if the fleet gets dragged into another naval battle before I arrive? If our ships sink, we’ll have an especially tough time. Also, if we allow the enemy to bring in any large-scale shipments, the chances of the capital falling will increase dramatically.”

“I understand that, but... will you be okay?”

“I’ll have your name and signature; that should be enough to earn their trust.”

“That’s not what I mean! We’re already pretty close to the enemy, aren’t we? And the port that our fleet was pushed back to is very near to Ciennbourg...”

Assuming Regis’s information was to be trusted, the imperial fleet was currently using a fishing village near Port Ciennbourg as its base of operations. It was not the sort of place one would expect to see military ships, but the men needed food and water, so they had dropped anchor by the shore. Walking along the coast, it would take over half a day to reach Port Ciennbourg from there, but by steam ship it wouldn’t even take two hours.

“Pah.” Jerome scoffed and prodded the map. “What are you gonna do, princess? Are you rejecting the strategist’s proposal?”

“Th-That’s... I don’t think Regis is wrong here, but... aren’t you worried about him, Jerome?”

“Everyone dies eventually. All that matters is whether you keel over like a dog in a ditch, or you die a noble death fighting for your country. I plan to live and die by the sword, and I’m sure the strategist wants to die on his own terms as well.”

Upon hearing Jerome’s words, Altina hung her head and paused for a moment. She then looked up with a sincere expression and spoke slowly, as if carefully thinking over each word. “Yes... You... might be right... I have my own goal... and I think I’d rather die for it... than live a life without purpose.”

The resolve of one who carried a sword lent immense weight to these words—so much so that Regis hesitated for a second before speaking up. “Um... I don’t really want to die, you know.”

Both Altina and Jerome fell silent.

I mean, I won’t be able to read my books if I’m dead... Those were Regis’s true thoughts, but he decided to keep them to himself and move on. “Anyway—the objective of the Queen’s Navy is to maintain their supply chain; they would never attack a fishing village that has no military value.”

Anxious as she was, Altina sat back down. “As long as you’re okay doing this...”

Jerome prodded the map again. “Have you decided how we’ll be organizing ourselves yet?”

“One hundred cavalry should be enough for me. We’ll also bring a wagon containing the bare minimum supplies we need to survive. I can ride in that alongside the food.”

Altina cocked her head. “What about that white carriage?”

“Ms. Clarisse will get more use out of it. I imagine she’ll want to accompany you.”

“Right...” The princess glanced over at Clarisse, but as the maid was in her quiet phase, she didn’t even try to express her own thoughts. She simply stood there like a soulless doll.

“All right.” Jerome stood up. “One hundred cavalry, yeah? I’ll pick out those who won’t let the navy take charge.”

“Could I ask for some peaceful, rational soldiers...?”

“Hah! My men are all perfect gentlemen. Well, as long as people do what they’re told.”

“...Then at least give me soldiers who won’t draw their swords unless ordered to, please?”

“Kukukuh...” After responding with no more than a joyful chuckle, Jerome was gone.

Altina sighed. “How impatient. I never said the meeting was over.”

“Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“There isn’t, but... will you really, really be okay, Regis?”

“I don’t want to die, so I’ll keep myself out of danger as best I can. Trust me.”

Altina stared long and hard at him, biting her lower lip and scrunching up her face like a child separated from its parents. She was fifteen years old, having reached adulthood just the other day, but every now and again she pulled a face that made her look much younger than she actually was.

“...I’ll be heading your way as soon as I finish discussing matters with the commander at Fort Letroisti,” she eventually said.

“Yes. Even if we’re operating independently, it should only be for a day at most.”

“Urgh... I should have at least taught you how to ride a horse properly. If things get dangerous, promise me you’ll run away, okay?”

“You worry too much,” Regis said dismissively. Despite how much he wanted her to trust him, he couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest knowing that someone cared about him so deeply.

“Say what you will, Regis, but you’re no good when it comes to weapons and horses. Letting you wander so close to the enemy is way too dangerous... Right, Clarisse? You’re worried about him too, aren’t you?”

Before Regis knew it, even the maid standing on the sidelines had a somewhat melancholic look on her face. “That’s right... I’m very worried indeed,” she said.

Regis smiled at her. “I’ll be fine, I tell you. The enemy won’t come near me.”

“It’s just that, whenever Mr. Regis is on his own...”

“Hm?”

In an instant, Clarisse’s voice turned cold. “...I fear he’ll find a new woman.”

Altina’s terrifying expression seemed to agree, and she fixed Regis with an icy glare.

This is strange... Where did that warm feeling go? All I’m getting now are chills.

✧ ✧ ✧

The following day, May 30th—

Having split away from the Beilschmidt border regiment, Regis arrived at a fishing village called Hugovie. The wind was damp, and the smell of seaweed was thick in the air.

I see. So this is what they mean by a salty sea breeze.

Regis had read about the ocean in books, but this was his first time actually seeing it in person. The color blue stretched out along the horizon.

The one hundred horsemen were gathered under Abidal-Evra, a second-grade combat officer. Regis had been appointed head of the division despite Abidal-Evra exceeding him in both age and rank, but no one complained about this; they had all already accepted Regis as their tactician.

Every knight that Jerome had selected was a skilled rider, which had allowed them to arrive two hours earlier than scheduled. It was just around noon when they rode into town.

The village was small, containing only thirty to forty houses, but the number of smoke trails far exceeded what would be expected for such a small population. The grounded sailors must have been preparing their meals.

A number of small fishing boats lined the sandy bow-shaped beach, while the military ships were anchored further offshore. There were just over thirty in total, some big and some small.

Regis let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness we’re not too late.

A fence around the height of an average-sized adult stretched along the land around Hugovie, most likely as a countermeasure against beasts rather than armies. A great number of sailors were gathered on the inner side, watching the approaching horsemen that made up Regis’s division. Their arrival came as no surprise; Regis had sent out a messenger in advance, and so they were able to get into the village without any hold-ups.

Walking among the horsemen, Regis was led to the largest house in the center of the village. This was probably where the village chief lived, and the fact that naval officers were guarding the doors and halls suggested it was being used as a temporary military headquarters. It wasn’t a particularly large abode, and so all the knights except Abidal-Evra waited outside on standby.

The sentry standing at the door fixed his upper arms by his sides, then clenched his right hand into a fist and touched it to his chest. It was the naval salute. His gaze wasn’t focused on Regis, however, but on Abidal-Evra. That much wasn’t a surprise—Abidal-Evra carried the overwhelming air of an important knight, after all. His shoulders and chest were broad, he sported impressive facial hair, and his armor was first-class.

Regis, on the other hand, wasn’t exuding even a trace of dignity, nor was he wearing any armor or carrying a sword.

Having already grown weary of explaining the situation, Abidal-Evra simply returned the salute. “Tactician, why not wear your armor and sword, at least during moments like these?” he whispered once they were out of earshot, trying to stifle a sigh.

“Well, you see... it wouldn’t make a difference. I still wouldn’t look like a leader.”

“Then why don’t you put your medals on? Surely you were awarded something for capturing Fort Volks and saving the Seventh Army.”

“Those are more the princess’s achievements than my own, and the soldiers are the ones who actually risked their lives. Besides, dressing myself up too well might lead someone to assume I actually have ambitions, and that’s one surefire way to sour the mood.”

“At the very, very least, walk with your back straight.”

“...Yes, sir.” And so Regis did his absolute best to correct his hunch and look forward as he walked.

Before long, Regis and Abidal-Evra arrived at the command room—or at least, what was supposed to be the command room. It was very clearly just the chief’s living room. Six officers were waiting beside a sofa, dressed in military uniforms that differed from those worn by the knights who fought on land. At the front was a middle-aged man with an abundant red beard, who offered a powerless salute as they approached.

“My name is Christophe Denis de Bertram,” he said, introducing himself. “I am the admiral of the western fleet and a lieutenant general in the imperial army. It is a pleasure to meet you, young tactician of the land.”

“Likewise. I am Third-Grade Administrative Officer Regis Aurick of the Empire’s Fourth Army.”

At that, Regis noticed Abidal-Evra make an expression like he wanted to interject. That was when he remembered—since he had been granted the title of chevalier, his official name was now Regis d’Aurick. But he would just sound foolish trying to correct himself, so he pretended not to notice.

There was only one young man among the six officers, who seemed to be serving as an adjutant; the others were all older men around the same age as the admiral. They saluted and revealed their names and ranks in turn. As it turned out, these men were captains of the fleet’s more prominent ships.

In the navy, captains would receive orders from the admiral, then instruct sailors on their own ships to carry them out as best they could. When combat broke out, unlike in land wars where individual martial prowess was important, it was usually the competence of the admiral and captains that determined the course of battle.

Regis lowered himself into the seat he’d been offered, while Abidal-Evra stood behind him. Soon, Bertram and the others had settled down on the sofas as well. Come to think of it, unlike the men outside, they immediately saluted me rather than Abidal-Evra.

“Err... Pardon me if I’m mistaken, but have we met before?” Regis asked.

“Indeed. It was during last month’s festivities. I noticed you speaking to Princess Argentina from afar.”

“I see. Then I really must apologize. I never came to pay my respects.”

“No need. I was purposely keeping my distance from the power struggle, you see. It does not matter who takes the throne next; my fleet will spread its sails for the Empire.”

“That’s what my superior, the princess, is counting on.”

Bertram nodded, then his face started to cloud over. “But right now, I’m having a hard time fulfilling that oath. High Britannia’s warships are just far too powerful.”

“...So it seems.”

Regis found himself quite surprised. Not only was Bertram a lieutenant general and a duke, but he was approaching fifty years old, making Regis below him in rank, title, and age. For this reason, Regis hadn’t expected to be treated so courteously. What’s more, it was a pleasant surprise to see the admiral openly recognize how strong the enemy fleet was.

Bertram smiled. “For those on the land, it might look like we’re losing our nerve—that we’re hiding in a corner...”

“No, not at all.”

“Let me speak of our situation in numbers.”

“Of course.”

“High Britannia’s steam-powered Princess-class—a high-speed, 74-cannon ship of the line—travels at roughly 15 knots. In contrast, our largest sailing ship—the 80-cannon Aeterna-class—can barely reach that speed under perfect wind conditions.”

“And those ships were only saved because they put all their efforts into protecting themselves. Once the battle started, they weren’t even able to run away.”

“Regrettably. The enemy is equipped with Elswick cannons, and their firing range is somewhere around 45 arpents (3216 m).”

“That would be the Type-41.”

“Indeed.”

“If I remember correctly, the Aeterna-class’s largest anti-ship cannons have a range of 38 arpents (2715 m). What’s more, they take twice as long to load and fire compared to the enemy’s cannons.”

“You did your research. As expected of you, from what I’ve heard.”

“It’s nothing more than information I recalled from a book.”

Bertram gave an understanding nod. “There are currently three Princess-class ships docked at the port. We have nine of our main Aeternas, and tomorrow... our Poseidam-class 120-cannon armored ship of the line is scheduled to arrive.”

“From the southern sea, correct?”

“They started sending it north the moment High Britannia invaded, but it’s an incredibly slow ship.”

“With its lower speed and shorter firing range, would our Poseidam-class be able to defeat their Princess-class?”

“It’d be tough; the enemy would likely just chip away at our ship from outside its range. The Poseidam-class has a sturdy outer shell, but also two major weaknesses.”

“The sails and the cannons?”

“Indeed. If our enemy manages to rip holes through the sails, the ship will move even slower than usual—even changing its orientation would become an ordeal. And if a shell goes through the gun ports on our flanks, then worst-case scenario, it’ll ignite our gunpowder supplies.”

“Hm... If we just had a ship that was faster than the enemy—even one that loses on firepower—then we would at least have a means of escape...”

“The Urathenos-class 18-gun support ship is a little faster, and we have 20 in total. They can’t exchange fire, though; the enemy’ll get a shot or two in before we can even get close enough to retaliate. Plus, unlike the sturdy Aeterna-class, the small Urathenos catches fire easily and will be impossible to steer if we take a direct hit.”

“...Sounds like stalling High Britannia will be no easy task.”

Bertram’s expression remained grim. “We tried launching an attack on the transport ships carrying the enemy’s supplies ourselves.”

“During the Battle of Touranne?”

“We predicted their routes and came from the windward side. It was all shaping up to be a certain victory, but... the enemy fire was intense, and we lost four Aeterna-classes.”

“Were there any gains?”

“I’m sure a few of our shots made contact, but that wasn’t enough to sink the Princess-class. We sunk one transport ship and disabled another, but we were already trying our hardest to retreat by that point, so I don’t know what happened from there onward.”

“So it was a total defeat...”

“If you want me to be blunt about it, yes. Almost every ship we have that can sail the western sea is gathered here. The only ones you won’t find are those under maintenance.”

“Then we can’t afford to lose again,” Regis said. Repairing a ship could take close to a year, and they weren’t easy to replace.

“I’m certain that High Britannia has spares for both their Princess-class ships and their transport ships. We, on the other hand, only have the vessels here at our disposal.”

“...Right.”

“That is our present situation,” Bertram said heavily, staring at Regis with a sharp glint in his eyes.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“The difference in might is as clear as day, and we can’t lose the forces we have here. Do you think there’s anything we can do?”

Regis nodded. “I do.”

The surrounding officers were astir, while Bertram’s eyes grew even sharper. “You may have achieved results on land, but... the sea might not be quite what you’re expecting.”

“I know that, and I’m not perfectly confident, but... if we don’t win on the sea, then the Belgarian Empire will suffer a defeat it can never recover from.”

The naval officers exchanged looks; perhaps they weren’t aware how things had been progressing on land.

“The High Britannian Army had enough momentum to tear through both the Second and Seventh Armies. Even the First Army will have its hands full just defending the capital,” Regis plainly informed them.

“You’re saying that even General Latrielle might not win...?”

“It would be a huge weight off our shoulders if he did, but... it will no doubt be a tough battle. The gap between our weaponry is just too great.”

“So things are that bad, huh...?”

“If enemy supplies keep coming in, the warfront will stagnate until, eventually, the surrounding countries rally their armies to attack. The capital would be encircled by tens of thousands of soldiers.”

The officers’ faces paled, and Bertram fell into thought.

Regis stood up. “General Latrielle gave an order with his authority as marshal general: the men here have been placed under the command of the Fourth Army, and by extension Princess Argentina. I serve as the princess’s strategist, so I do have somewhat of a say here, but we are at war. Lives are on the line, and I don’t expect you to trust me when we’ve only just met. I’ll take my leave for now. Please get together and consider the situation.”

“What happens if we refuse you?”

“...To be honest, my role won’t change at all. I never intended to give orders from the start. I’ll just explain a plan that I hope you’ll be satisfied with, and if you decide to ignore it, well... I’ll be a bit troubled.”

“Hm... Just a moment ago, you said you lacked confidence. But from what I can see, you seem to have complete confidence in your plan.”

“I really do lack confidence. I just happen to know a thing or two from a few stories I’ve read which involve similar situations.” At this remark, Bertram and his men shot Regis curious glances, but he promptly said his goodbyes and made for the door. “I’m going to have a look at Ciennbourg. I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Oh? Are you going to use one of our ships?”

“Heavens, no. I don’t have your permission yet, Admiral, so I couldn’t possibly use the warships. I just want to do some reconnaissance, so a dingy is plenty. I’ll try and negotiate with one of the local fishing boats.”

“...You’re a strange man, Regis Aurick.”

“I hear that a lot,” Regis replied, his lips curling into a wry smile as he put the command room behind him.

✧ ✧ ✧

After passing between two lines of houses—a gap so narrow that he hesitated to even call it a road—Regis came out into the harbor where the fishing boats were moored. He could feel the salt in the air, and the scent alone was enough to make his tongue tingle. Abidal-Evra and five other knights were accompanying him; the rest had been permitted to stay behind and take a break.

Fishing was generally done in the morning, so there wasn’t a soul in sight by the time they arrived. And while this technically was the village’s harbor, the boats were simply resting on the sand, fastened in place with rope so that they weren’t snatched away by the waves.

Abidal-Evra tilted his head. “Why do they go to the effort of dragging the boats out of the water?”

“Judging by their position, I’d say their bows were just barely touching the sand when they were tied down,” Regis replied.

“How does that work?”

Now that Regis thought about it, many soldiers from the border regiment never would have had the chance to learn about the sea.

“There is a phenomenon known as the tide, you see...” This referred to a periodic rise and fall in the water level, and was caused by the gravitational forces exerted by the sun and moon, Regis explained.

“Gravitational, you say...?”

“That’s right. It was written about in A Treatise of Celestial Mechanics, published by the scholar Pierre Simon just the other day. The book systematized the movement of certain bodies through mathematical—”

Abidal-Evra’s head was already spinning. He promptly cut Regis off and pointed into the distance. “Oh, Tactician! There’s someone in that boat!”

“Hm?”

I wasn’t finished yet, but... Deciding to put his lesson aside for now, Regis approached the fishing boat. There was a young man with brick-brown hair on board, busy tidying up a net. He looked to be around seventeen or eighteen, and while he appeared quite slender, he was actually incredibly muscular. Fifteen was the age of adulthood in Belgaria, so despite how young this man looked, he was surely a first-rate fisherman.

Regis raised a hand to greet him. “Hello there. Do you have a moment?”

The man immediately stood bolt upright, visibly wary.

“Did I startle you?” Regis asked, nonchalantly moving his raised hand behind his head and gripping his own hair.

“Wh-Whaddya want, Soldier?”

“Does this boat belong to you?”

“Part a’ it. Somethin’ wrong with that?”

It seemed that the boat was co-owned. That wasn’t particularly rare; fishing was a task that usually required several people, and buying and maintaining a fishing boat cost money. Perhaps it belonged to his family. But that wasn’t the only thing that Regis had deduced from the response—as it turned out, the villagers weren’t so welcoming of the imperial army. In fact, this young man seemed downright fearful.

Granted, whenever troops are stationed somewhere, it’s a lot rarer to find locals who actually have good relations with them than those who don’t, Regis lamented. Soldiers tended to act under the impression that they were protecting the people or responding to an emergency, so were generally quite arrogant and always giving orders as a result. In this regard, the house that the western fleet was using as their headquarters had probably been confiscated.

What this meant was that, to the villagers, there was little difference between soldiers and bandits—both were considered uninvited guests. But even with that being the case, Regis didn’t want to back down just yet; he needed to make sure the groundwork was laid before Altina arrived.

“Truth be told, I wanted to see how things were going at Port Ciennbourg and on the surrounding seas. Do you know of anyone who could take me out there?”

Regis had initially intended to ask the young man, but it was clear from his attitude that he was unlikely to agree. The man returned quite a reluctant look, but didn’t outright refuse to answer. Such was the power of Regis’s incredible persuasion skills—or rather, the intimidating aura coming from the knights behind him.

“I-In that case, you should ask the chief... He knows way more than me.”

“And where might I find this chief?”

“In that house the soldiers’ve made their headquarters.”

“I see.”

Regis presumed the chief was staying in a different room from the one he had met Bertram in, so it seemed they would have to go right back where they’d come from.

All of a sudden, there was the energetic patter of nimble feet against stone. Regis turned to see someone racing across the embankment wall as swiftly as a cat, wearing a light cloth skirt. Her once-black hair had been bleached a reddish brown from prolonged sun exposure, and it was fluttering behind her as she ran.

“Oiiii! What’re you doin’ to my boat!?” came a shrill yell.

The girl kept running along the wall. She looked around fifteen—presumably about the same age as Altina—and had piercing black eyes that left quite a lasting impression. Upon reaching the end of the embankment, she jumped down onto the beach and continued sprinting full pelt, now moving with so much momentum that Regis feared she would smack straight into him.

A huge cloud of sand kicked up into the air as the girl came to a sudden stop just short of impact. “That’s my boat you’re eyeing there!” she snapped.

“Oh, so this boat belongs to the two of you?” Regis asked. “No need to worry. I’m not going to do anything to it; I just had a few questions.”

At that, she let out a long sigh of relief. “Had me worried for a sec there... Thought you were gonna make off with it.”

“Haha... Even if the imperial army’s backed into a corner, we’re not going to confiscate an old fishing boat.”

“Hmph. Well sorry my boat ain’t worth your effort. I’ll tell you this, though—appearances ain’t what keeps you afloat!” Her tone was suddenly harsh again, and she was pursing her lips in a pout. It seemed that her attitude changed as sporadically as the eyes of a cat, bouncing from one extreme to the other.

Regis faltered. “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. A fishing boat supports the life and wellbeing of a fisherman and his family, right? Confiscating a person’s livelihood is a horrible thing to do.”

“You lot already took a few of our houses! Ain’t that even worse!?”

“I believe the army is only borrowing them. At least, I hope that’s the case... I never really asked for any specifics.”

Unable to watch anymore, the young man in the boat spoke up. “Don’t go pickin’ a fight with the soldiers, Narissa. We were just talkin’, okay? Get outta here.”

“What’re ya sayin’, Phip? I came as fast as I could ’cause you looked so helpless. How ’bout some gratitude here?” Narissa snapped back. “So tell me—what were you talkin’ about?”

“Nothin’ to do with you.” Phip’s words were brusque, but came out a lot weaker than before. He was clearly being worn down by her intensity.

Regis repeated what he’d said before. “I want to see what the situation is like at Port Ciennbourg, so I was asking whether he knew anyone who could show me around.”

“Show you around? You mean, like, on a boat?”

“Yes, I want to see what the occupied port looks like. On top of that, I hope to gather as much information on the surrounding seas as possible, so I’d prefer someone who knows how to handle a boat.”

“Then go to the chief...” Phip muttered. But Narissa firmly shook her head.

“That’s a lost cause! The chief’s been refusin’ to go out to sea lately. Keeps sayin’ his back hurts. You just need someone who knows their way around a boat, yeah?”

“That’s right. I highly doubt High Britannia will mobilize a warship over the presence of a single fishing boat; I’m just a bit short on time at the moment, so I’d like someone who’s skilled and a boat that’s on the faster side.”

“Well, you’re in luck—I know who the best sailor is, and they’ve got the fastest boat in town.”

Phip grabbed his net and shot up. “Oi, Narissa! Quit screwin’ around! Nothin’ good comes from gettin’ involved with soldiers!”

“Shut up, Phip!”

“Guh... You’re... You’re on your own, okay?”

Seeing this exchange, Regis posed the most pertinent question. “Would this fastest boat happen to be yours?”

“You know it! We’re the fastest in the village. Won’t even lose to Seelow’s rig over there!”

“Who...?”

“You see the huge house over on that side? He keeps buyin’ all the newest boats just ’cause he thinks he’s some kinda bigshot. But he sucks at using ’em, so he’s real slow.”

“I... see.” Looks like this sort of thing even happens in small fishing villages.

Regis took another look at Phip and Narissa’s boat. It honestly didn’t look much different from the others around it.

“Phip’s seriously bad at readin’ the wind, but he’s king at adjustin’ the net and sail,” Narissa said, puffing out her chest. “And with me at the helm, we ain’t gonna lose to anyone, no matter where the wind blows!”

“I see, I see... And you’re very knowledgeable about these seas, are you?”

“Of course I am! I know ’em better than the fish do!” Narissa proclaimed. She gave her chest a hearty thump, and the mounds hidden beneath her shirt bounced ever so slightly. Just a moment ago, Regis had thought she was the same age as Altina, but maybe she was actually a bit older.

Phip sighed. “You realize you’re gonna be slavin’ for free, right, Narissa?”

“Bwuh!? Ah, you’re right! He’s a soldier! I take it all back, then!”

There was no regulation saying that the army had to pay the civilians they put to work. In most cases, they would either have them work for peanuts or refuse to pay them entirely.

“I’ll pay you the proper amount. I’m not just asking you to take me out on your boat; I want to hear all about the sea. Plus I’ll need your cooperation for a while. If you work for me... Let’s see...” Regis checked his pockets. “I can give you eight sol a day.”

Narissa’s eyes shot wide open. “Eight sol!?”

Phip seemed genuinely surprised as well; he was standing with his mouth agape.

Eight sol was roughly the weekly earnings of a soldier in the standing army, and it was a very respectable sum compared to how much fishermen made. That said, the information that Narissa was offering would prove invaluable in fighting back the High Britannian warships. This was a matter that concerned the very fate of the Empire, and with that in mind, eight sol was actually a frightfully modest sum.

“I’m in! I’m in!” she exclaimed. “Wouldn’t be seen anywhere else! Even if I’ve gotta do it on my own!”

“If it pays, I’ll join as well,” Phip added.

“That’d be a huge help. My name is Regis Aurick. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

“You can call me Narissa. Pleasure’s all mine, Jess!”

“Jess...?” Regis tilted his head.

Phip shrugged. “Narissa cuts names down way more than any sane person would. Name’s Philip Jean Aquanord, by the way.”

“Um... Are you two husband and wife?”

“Pffahahah!” Narissa burst into laughter. “Wrong! Wrong! I’m still only fourteen! Me and Phip here, we’ve known each other forever. Our parents are friends so we fish on the same boat, but that’s all there is to it.”

Around the “that’s all there is to it” part, Phip let out a sigh. Such is the way of the world, young man... Regis thought, consoling him internally.

“I see. So you’re childhood friends.”

“I’d like a boat of my own, personally, but my dad’s pretty stubborn. He only trusts me to go out to sea when I’m helpin’ Phip out.”

“Ain’t that because you’re usually just shirkin’ all your housework?” Phip interjected.

“But I’m so good at steerin’!”

“Erk. I’ll get good, too. Eventually...” At that, Phip turned his back to Narissa and started bundling up his remaining fishing nets. His muscular, suntanned body was in no way inferior to the knights’—a testament to just how seriously he took his job. “Oi, Narissa. Don’t just stand there. If we’re goin’ all the way to Ciennbourg, we oughta lighten up first, right? Help me unload here.”

“I know, I know! We’ll be ready to go in a jiff, Jess. When’s good for you?”

“As soon as possible, please.”

Narissa winked. “Oui, oui! You got it, boss! Oh, but if speed’s your game, you’re better off bringin’ as few people as possible.”

“I’ll be fine on my own.”

Abidal-Evra, who had stayed silent up to this point, suddenly piped up. “I can’t let you do that, Tactician! If no one else, at least take me.”

“Very well, then. We’ll go together.”

Narissa and Phip unloaded their nets, baskets, and other fishing tools directly onto the beach, just casually leaving them there.

“Won’t those get stolen?” Abidal-Evra asked, rather perplexed.

“Get what...? Pffahahah! We ain’t got any idiots ’round these parts! Everyone knows the sea god’ll sink those who fish with stolen nets!”

Regis found himself exchanging looks with the knight. Belgaria only recognized one particular faith as the true religion, and idolatry was strictly prohibited, but once again, it appeared that the might of God had failed to reach the country’s furthest edges; just as the Beilschmidt border regiment had been influenced by the north’s faith in a goddess, it seemed this area had kept its indigenous god as well.

Phip started pushing the boat while Narissa pulled on the rope.

“I’ll help out!” Abidal-Evra announced, moving beside Phip. The other knights followed his example, helping to shove the boat into the sea.

As soon as it was afloat, Narissa yelled, “Hop on!”

Regis could barely keep up. “Hey... Wait...” Trying to kick off of loose sand and land onto a teetering fishing boat would be even harder than riding a horse. As he hesitated in place, Narissa reached out her hand.

“You comin’ or not, Jess!?”

“Y-Yes!” Regis grabbed her hand and, with the knights pushing him from behind, was finally able to board the boat. In reality, it was more accurate to say that he was loaded on like cargo. Meanwhile, Phip helped Abidal-Evra up.

In no time at all, the boat was drifting out to sea, and Regis was quickly overtaken by a sense of exhilaration. “We’re floating... There are waves... Now isn’t this something!”

“Huh? This your first time out at sea?” Narissa asked.

“Yep. I’ve read about it plenty of times in books, though.”

“That ain’t even close to the real deal. There are loads of things in this world you can’t understand unless you get out there and try ’em yourself.”

“Ha... Maybe so.”

Regis and Abidal-Evra were seated in the space where the nets and fish would usually be kept. The boat was small, but its simple design made it feel quite spacious. A mast stood near the front, sporting a rectangular sail that stretched taught as it caught the wind.

This also seemed to be the case for Narissa’s skirt, which was now flapping every which way. She quickly grabbed it by the hem. “Argh. Only just remembering I changed outta my gear. I never thought I’d be sailin’ past noon, so... Ugh. This is pretty embarrassin’...”

“C’mon, focus on steerin’. No one here’s gonna ogle what you’ve got.”

“You’ve got one comin’, Phip!”

Regis wasn’t particularly bothered, but he had enough common sense to know to look away. I really should focus on getting a proper view of the sea... “Ahem... Are there any shallow spots around Ciennbourg’s bay?”

“There are a buncha places where you’d catch the bottom if you cast a net.”

“Could you point out where they are on this?” Regis asked, producing a sea chart from his bag. The document was somewhat dated, but Port Ciennbourg was located in the depths of a cove and he doubted the shape of the coastline would have changed very much. “What I’m most interested in is whether there are any inside the cove.”

Narissa left the helm to Phip and looked over the sea chart. “Um... Is that supposed to be the port there?”

“That’s right. Ciennbourg is here, and Hugovie is here,” Regis said, tracing his finger between the two points.

“Mhm, mhm.” Narissa nodded quizzically.

As it turned out, she hadn’t been wrong about knowing more than the fish did, but her knowledge was mostly limited to the fish themselves.

I’ll probably need to use proper tools to get a precise reading on the depth and currents, Regis thought. But the trip had given him a few ideas for places that would be important to his plan, so he didn’t feel as though his time had been wasted.

✧ ✧ ✧

Having observed Port Ciennbourg from afar and looked into various other things, the crew returned just as the sun was sinking into the ocean on the west horizon. To the east, the land had been tinted a warm hue.

Narissa grumbled as she tied up the boat. “Hah, I’m hungry... My arms are killin’ me... And my skin’s all sticky...”

“Quit complainin’,” Phip sighed. “You’re the one who accepted the job.”

“Oh, so you ain’t tired? You can reload our gear on your own, then. I’m gonna go grab dinner.”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Today’s food’s on the chief, remember? It’ll all be gone unless I get goin’.”

“If that’s what you think, then you’d better get those hands movin’ already.”

Narissa and Phip continued to squabble as they worked together to load everything back on the boat. Is this what they call being close enough to fight? Regis wondered. What good childhood friends.

Regis was also feeling dead tired, and the uneasy feeling from his seasickness still lingered. Had he eaten his fill before they set sail, he would have probably been in an even worse state.

While Abidal-Evra was busy hearing out reports from the knights who had stayed behind, Narissa came up to Regis. “Oi, Jess.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

Regis nodded, forcing down the queasy feeling in his stomach. He then took out eight silver sol coins from his pocket and handed them over. While he would normally ask for a receipt, these were times of war—plus, as Regis was the one who budgeted the expenses of the Fourth Army anyway, it likely wouldn’t be an issue.

Narissa checked over each coin before carefully tucking them away into a cloth pouch. “Ehehe. Thanks!”

“No, I should be thanking you.”

“Hey, why don’tcha come with me to the town hall? You had a few questions we couldn’t answer, right? If you ask everyone there, you’re bound to find someone who’s got the answers you need.”

“Is there some sort of event going on?”

“The chief treats us all to food and wine once a month. Calls it ‘mutual aid measures’ or somethin’.”

“Oh, mutual aid? He sounds like a proper chief to me.”

“Yup! So why don’tcha come grab a bite?”

It seemed that this village had a system in place where money was regularly gathered from the villagers, then used to help out whenever someone was beset by an accident or disease. When too much money piled up, it would either be returned or put to use for the whole community. But, naturally, Regis was an outsider to this system; he hadn’t contributed to their funds in the slightest.

I guess I can just go and ask a few questions, he decided, letting Narissa lead the way. Together they headed for the town hall, with Abidal-Evra and his men trailing close behind.

The building they were brought to was slightly smaller than the chief’s house and located on the edge of town, which was presumably why it hadn’t been chosen as the navy’s headquarters. Having been told that the chief was treating them, Regis expected food and drink, and for all the villagers to have gathered for a feast.

But there was no food, and despite the room being wide enough for around forty people to eat at once, there were no tables or chairs. The villagers were instead seated on the wooden floor, discussing something quite seriously.

Narissa’s eyes opened wide. “Bwuh!? Where’s all the food!?”

“Yes, about that. Today’s a bit—” A middle-aged man offered her a gentle response, but his tone changed the moment he caught sight of Regis. “A soldier!?”

The villagers immediately rose up. Some among them had brought harpoons, while others were brandishing more common items that could be used as weapons. Regis simply tilted his head, but Abidal-Evra, who wasn’t quite so passive, reached for his sword and stepped forward.

“Step outside, Tactician! Report back to the knights!”

The other guard knights were also on the verge of drawing their blades. Even the young-looking villagers were armed with harpoons, kitchen knives, and machetes. But even so, Regis stayed where he was.

“Hold on, hold on.”

“Tactician, do you really not see the danger here!?”

“That’s why I’m saying... Everyone, please just wait for a second. Let’s all calm down and talk this over. Calmly and rationally.” At that, Regis gently placed his hand over Abidal-Evra’s sword arm and stepped forward.

I can’t deny that the villagers look like they’re out for blood. There are about thirty in total, ranging from children to the elderly... but they’re all men.

Narissa had paled from the sudden unusual atmosphere, while Phip had positioned himself to shield her from whatever was about to happen.

Regis plopped down onto the floor. Nobles normally only sat in chairs, but he had lived his life up to this point as a commoner and was thus used to these sorts of places. “As you can see, I am completely unarmed. My name is Regis Aurick, and I work as a strategist in the Empire’s Fourth Army.”

“...I’m Jean Leo, the village chief.”

He was much younger than expected—in his early forties, perhaps. While this might not have been young by normal conventions, the man’s position as chief and complaints about his aching back had made Regis expect someone much older. He had darkly tanned skin and sharp eyes, and while he wasn’t particularly tall, his chest and arms were incredibly muscular.

Regis spoke as calmly as he could muster. “I am indeed a soldier, but I am not from the navy. As a result, I may not share their thoughts. I can see that some kind of problem has occurred here... If you wouldn’t mind, would you tell me what’s going on?”

In the past, Regis would have gotten terribly nervous when speaking before so many unfamiliar people. But it seemed that he had grown at least a little accustomed to it.

The village’s elders glanced at one another. Regis already had a general idea of what they were planning, which was why he needed to get to the bottom of what was causing their discontentment as soon as possible. He also knew that allowing them time to discuss matters would only bring them further and further from a peaceful resolution, and so, without waiting for a response, he continued.

“Come to think of it, it should be around a month now since the navy arrived. I’m sure that you all have your share of troubles. Have you received your reparation payments yet?”

“What reparations?” the chief asked, showing immediate interest in Regis’s words.

“Whenever the military borrows houses and goods, seizes food, or demands labor, it provides a reasonable amount of monetary compensation.”

“We didn’t receive anything like that.”

“In that case, allow me to expedite the process. No need to worry; you’ll all receive your dues.”

The villagers quickly began exchanging words. Their menacing aura from just moments ago had eased a little, and this time, Regis waited to see what they had to say.

Eventually, the village chief corrected his posture. “So you agree to pay us, Soldier. Correct?”

“That much is only proper procedure.”

It seemed that a civil conversation was finally an option. Regis held back a sigh of relief. Had this been an incident that couldn’t be resolved with money—say the naval officers were being violent toward the villagers, for example—then they wouldn’t have accepted financial compensation. Thankfully, the situation hasn’t grown that dire.

“These western parts have fallen under the jurisdiction of the Fourth Army,” Regis continued. “Our commander is Lieutenant General Marie Quatre Argentina de Belgaria. Perhaps you’ve heard of her? She’s the fourth princess of the Empire.”

“Yes, I’ve heard the name.”

“Her many achievements were finally recognized, and she was appointed to her military position by General Latrielle just the other day. The princess is wise and impartial, so if anyone has any complaints, just bring them to her. I can assure you that she will thoroughly look into each and every matter.”

Regis had told a slight lie there; the person looking into their grievances would probably be him. Which means even more paperwork... he sighed internally.

✧ ✧ ✧

The next day, at a little past noon—

Regis had Narissa and Phip take him out on the boat again, during which he finished up all the preliminary research he needed. When they returned to the beach, the village had been surrounded by imperial soldiers as though it were being besieged. Their banners were green, emblazoned with white shields.

“It looks like the princess has arrived.”

“Thank the Lord!” Abidal-Evra exclaimed, giving a gleeful nod. He must have been anxious, having only a few colleagues with him in unfamiliar territory.

Once the boat’s bow had touched the sand, Phip jumped down with a rope. He raced off and fastened it to a bollard on the embankment.

Regis had brought the necessary tools to take measurements this time, so he had some work to do unloading them from the fishing boat. Once that was done, he started climbing down himself. He was the last one off of the boat, and the only one who was still suffering from seasickness.

Narissa offered him a hand. “C’mon, get a grip! You all right, Jess?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Her suntanned hand was slender and soft, yet as strong and sturdy as the branch of a large tree. Regis’s feet were finally on land, and while the sand wasn’t the most stable ground and his shoes were sinking a little, just the fact that he wasn’t swaying about over the ocean gave him a sliver of relief.

He moved to pick up the tools he’d put aside, but Narissa got to them first. “I’ll carry ’em for you. You’re still seasick, yeah?”

“Haha... I’m better than yesterday, but... thanks.”

“What’re you gonna do now?”

“It looks like the princess is here, so I’ll speak to the admiral again. We really do need to initiate our plan soon.”

“Err...”

“Hm?” Regis was used to seeing Narissa in high spirits by now, so he was surprised to see her mood suddenly drop. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry ’bout yesterday. Everyone from the village was makin’ such scary faces.”

“We’re probably the ones who should apologize. The country levies its taxes, and for what? Even if we have been invaded by a foreign power, placing such a heavy burden on this village is a reprehensible mismanagement on our part.”

“I’m glad you were able to talk ’em down before anything serious happened.”

“I really didn’t do that much.”

“Word is that someone from the military came early this mornin’ to discuss payment. The chief and the others said it’s a different story if we’re gettin’ paid for it. They’ve all been so grouchy lately, so it was nice to see ’em in a good mood for once!”

“Well, the thing is, the admiral fully intended to pay from the start. His job’s just been so hectic lately that he didn’t have the men to spare to arrange the funds.”

“Even so! It’s all thanks to you!” Narissa chirped, coming up to Regis’s shoulder.

Regis immediately drew back. “Now, now...”

Truth be told, the navy hadn’t planned on paying any reparations.

The previous night, Regis had reported to Lieutenant General Bertram.

“As I’m sure you’re aware... Princess Marie Quatre is a philanthropist who sides with the commoners. She detests it when the country and its nobles exploit the people. If, at the time she takes her post, the village’s houses have been seized without compensation... wouldn’t that ruin your standing, Admiral? Presenting a cordial offering to the villagers would be in your best interest. It’s not a particularly large sum to pay, especially if it means evading the wrath of a royal... As long as things are handled peacefully, I’ll simply report that the village has been properly compensated for its efforts and nothing more.”

As an old-fashioned military man, Bertram was stubborn, but he was no fool. He immediately prepared reparation money for the villagers, even going so far as to offer Regis his thanks for making a proposal that took his standing into such careful consideration.

To Regis, gaining the admiral’s trust was a lot more important than the villagers’ gratitude. The complete cooperation of the western navy would prove indispensable in their attack on High Britannia’s transport ships, and that wasn’t something he could secure through a single letter, no matter whose signature was on it.

However, Narissa didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes, so she continued to be excessively grateful. “You know what? I’ll be honest, Jess—first time I saw you, I thought you looked tiny and unreliable. But you turned out to be more of a man than I thought!”

“Ha... Haha...”

When Phip returned from putting his tools back on the boat, he seemed quite discontent. “Narissa, quit flirtin’ with the soldier.”

“Huh!? I’m not—! Oh? Hmm? Don’t tell me you’re jealous!”

“Wh-Why would I be jealous!?”

All of a sudden, Abidal-Evra pointed into the distance. “Hey, isn’t that the princess?”

Regis followed his finger to see a large group of knights heading toward them from the village, leaping over the embankment and running down the sandy beach. Racing ahead of them was a young woman with red hair and crimson eyes.

“Regis!”

“Hello again, Alt— Oh.” Regis stopped short, having very nearly called the princess by her usual nickname. He needed to observe proper decorum, at least when in the presence of villagers and knights.

Her guards started pleading “Wait, Princess! Please wait...!” as they chased after her, but it wasn’t long before they fell behind, gasping for air. The fact that Altina was wearing the lightest possible equipment probably played a part in this, but out of everybody in the Fourth Army, Jerome was likely the only one who could keep up with her sprinting at full speed.

By the time Regis had gathered his thoughts, Altina was already right in front of him.

“Regis!”

“Princess. I’m glad to see you’re in good health.” Regis bowed his head in reverence, when Narissa suddenly grabbed onto his arm from beside him. He could feel something soft pushing up against his elbow.

“Who’s the woman, Jess?” she asked.

“Eh!? Th-This esteemed personage is the commander of the Empire’s Fourth Army, Lieutenant General Marie Quatre Argentina de Belgaria—the highest ranking person in the western army. She is also the fourth princess of the Empire.”

“Nah, what I mean is—who is she to you?”

“Me!? Err... The commander I serve?”

“Hah, sounds about right! What was I thinkin’? No way would such an important princess be Jess’s lover! A higher-up at work, eh?”

It seemed that Regis wasn’t the only one surprised by Narissa’s conduct; Altina’s eyes were nearly popping out of their sockets. She was clearly furious, and her voice came out piercingly cold.

“Regis...”

For a moment, he was at a complete loss for words. She’s angrier than I’ve ever seen her before... Actually, maybe about as angry as she was that time Elenore jokingly kissed me.

“P-Princess? What’s wrong? Um, this is Narissa. She helped me look into a few things I needed for the operation.”

“Hmm...” Altina’s gaze was ice-cold. Then, out of nowhere, she turned away and walked off without a word.

Regis frantically shook off Narissa’s arm and chased after her. “E-Err... Princess? Are you feeling unwell? Have I done something to displease you? There is much I must report to you with all due haste...”

“That’s right. You only ever talk about work with me!”

“Yes...? Well, if you want to call it that...”

“Clarisse was right about you!”

“A-About what?”

“Oh, nothing! You’re just my strategist, after all! I-It’s not like we’re lovers or anything, so what does it matter what you get up to!? It’s got nothing to do with me! That’s why... That’s why... e-even if you find a... Waaaah... Y-You dummy!”

“Perish the thought! Why, there’s absolutely no way I could ever get a lover! It’s completely impossible! Every drop of water will have drained from the sea before that day comes!”

“Eh!?” Narissa raised her voice. She tried to chase after Regis, but Phip quickly grabbed her by the arm.

“Cut it out already! Seriously!” he chided. His voice was stifled, but harsh. “Speakin’ like that in front of royalty’s already enough to get you taken in for lèse-majesté!”

“Wh-What’s that!?”

“Good grief... You really are a brat when it comes to everythin’ but the sea... You were only spared ’cause Princess Marie Quatre is a kind person, but... normally, you’d be on the choppin’ block by now with the way you were actin’.”

“Eep!?”

“We’re just not cut from the same cloth... Commoners like us, and those royals and nobles...”

“That just ain’t...” Narissa trailed off, watching them go with a downtrodden expression.

For a brief moment, Regis was gripped by an urge to turn back. But no matter how attached to him Narissa might have felt, the next place he was headed was the battlefield. They were presumably better off not getting involved any further—after all, he was a soldier in a warzone, and she was a civilian.

And so, Regis never stopped chasing after Altina.

✧ ✧ ✧

That evening—

The command room that the navy had been using was now the provisional command room of the Empire’s Fourth Army. Little else had changed, however; it was ultimately still the village chief’s house.

Altina sat down on the sofa furthest into the room. Lieutenant General Bertram, his adjutant, and the ship captains were seated on a sofa to her left, while a terribly displeased-looking Jerome, Abidal-Evra, and the other commanding officers were to her right.

As Altina’s advisor, Regis was allowed to stand beside her.

The navy were no longer the only ones carrying out security detail, and with the inclusion of Altina’s knights, the house that had never been too spacious to begin with now felt extremely cramped.

With the usual formalities already having been exchanged, Regis took a deep breath. Now, let’s just hope they agree to our plan.

The authority that Altina had been given by Latrielle meant the navy were obligated to carry out her orders, but unless the admiral—or at the very least his captains—were willing to cooperate, the plan would be much harder to execute. And to make matters worse, given Altina’s personality, she was surely opposed to brandishing her newfound power to order people around.

Regis spread a sea chart out on the center table. “There’s one thing I want to confirm—when do you think the Poseidam-class will arrive?”

The slow 120-gun ship was on its way from the southern sea, and was due to arrive today.

Bertram wore a somber expression. “Right... It can’t pick up any speed without wind. It was supposed to have arrived by sunset according to my contact, but as you can see...”

“Understood. Then we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning. Now about my first proposal—” Regis began, going on to describe his idea.

At first, the attending navy officers were nodding along in agreement, but as the explanation continued, their expressions slowly turned grim.

“Th-That’s... Do you have any other suggestions?” Bertram asked with a groan.

“This is the best possible move I can think of. Perhaps I’ll have a better plan by tomorrow, but we can’t waste time relying on such expectations. If we miss our chance to take on the enemy transport ships, thus allowing High Britannia a large-scale replenishment, then our capital will fall; the Belgarian Empire will suffer a blow that not even a century could heal.”

“I... see...” Bertram and his men were visibly discouraged.

Even if Belgaria’s capital did end up being taken, that didn’t necessarily mean the Empire would fall apart then and there. They were up against less than twenty thousand soldiers, and the emperor surely wouldn’t accept defeat so easily.

But in the case that the emperor was forced to flee, the surrounding nations would all scramble to be the first to attack, and those living in Belgaria-occupied territories would soon fly the banner of rebellion. It was impossible to imagine the exact extent to which the country would crumble.

Regis lowered his eyes to the chart. “Continuing with my explanation... High Britannia’s 74-gun Princess-class is powered by a triple expansion reciprocating steam engine, and its most defining characteristic is its three-winged screw propeller, which is located at the lower tail end of the hull. I’m sure you all know that these ships can move without wind.”

“We’re well aware, and we know how much trouble that’ll cause.”

“...But that’s also their greatest weakness.”

“Is that so?” Bertram asked, looking somewhat doubtful. “I suppose that screw is their equivalent of our sails, so I’m sure it could serve as a weakness... But that’s not something we can target so easily. The screw is small and submerged underwater. We might have been able to target it on land, but ships constantly shake and sway, even more so when in the midst of a bombardment.”

“So it really will be tough to hit with a cannon... I was right to rule that one out,” Regis mused aloud. “Don’t worry, I have an idea.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“Right away, sir.”

At that, Regis went into further detail. Once the explanation was over, the admiral and his captains, who had been wearing such stern expressions, looked rather perplexed; it seemed they couldn’t decide whether what they’d just heard was hard to believe or just plain hard to accept.

I really don’t blame them...

The captains were accustomed to thinking for themselves rather than following orders in battle, so the proposal presented here was completely unlike anything they were used to. What’s more, the reality that Regis’s achievements as a tactician were limited to battles on land made him no better than a complete greenhorn by naval standards, and when coupled with the fact that he was both younger and of a lower rank than the captains, it was clear that they weren’t going to follow his advice that easily.

However, he didn’t have the time to gain their trust.

“How does that sound...?” Regis asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s impossible...” Bertram replied. And yet, he still couldn’t come to a decision.

Altina looked the admiral dead in the eyes. “How about it? Think you can pull off Regis’s plan?”

“There’s no precedent for this kind of situation, so I can’t say for sure.”

“Do you think it’s worth trying?”

“...Probably.”

“We can’t afford to underestimate our enemies, nor can we overestimate ourselves. I know there are no absolutes, but even so... I’ll do whatever I can for those who are going to die in this battle.”

Altina’s words were heavier than ever before. Perhaps their last battle had changed something in her heart; while she was still a breathtaking young woman, she now carried an unfathomable intensity.

Bertram made a stern expression and nodded in a show of reverence, thumping his right fist against his left breast in salute. “Orders received with honor. I shall fulfill them to the best of my ability!”

“Thank you. I’m counting on you.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Bertram turned to look over the captains—his men, who were surely close to him—and spoke in a kind, remonstrative tone. “Gentlemen, this strategist’s plan is one we have never experienced before. I know you may have your doubts... but then, do we sit and wait for defeat? Is that the way of the proud Belgarian Navy?”

“...Admiral, do you think his plan is realistic?” one elderly captain asked.

Bertram shook his head. “Whether it’s realistic or not, I can’t say... But do we have an alternative? I went into the Battle of Touranne believing it would be a certain victory, and, as you are all aware, those expectations were dashed by High Britannia’s steam ship. Wouldn’t you feel ashamed, deciding to stay back and cower in fear just because we were treading into the unknown?”

“Grr... Who says we’re cowering...?” the old captain grumbled half-heartedly, averting his gaze.

Altina pushed harder. “If anyone has an alternative plan, then we’ll gladly hear it out. But if not, as Regis said, we don’t have the time to sit around hoping one will drop into our laps. It’s crucial that we use every second we have working toward what we think is the best course of action in the moment. Our enemy won’t wait for us.”

While the captains seemed anxious, they voiced no further objections. While they were subordinates to their admiral, there was a greater onus on them to act independently compared to soldiers on land.

That makes it all the more reassuring if we can secure their support, but...

A long moment of silence followed until, eventually, one short and rather stout-looking captain stood up. “Gwahaha! Well doesn’t that sound interesting! Those High Britannians won’t know what hit them!”

Then, another captain rose to his feet. And another. Soon, every captain was on his feet giving a firm salute.

“As Her Highness commands. Please include our ships in your plan,” said the old captain who had expressed his doubts just a moment ago, looking quite ashamed of that fact.

Once again, the admiral saluted Altina. “We’ll begin preparations at once!”

The princess’s expression softened, and she promptly returned the salute. “Thank you, I’m glad to hear we have your support. It’s a pleasure to work with you.”

✧ ✧ ✧

The admiral and his captains exited the room, as did the guards, who were to fortify the outer perimeter. Only Regis, Altina, and Jerome remained.

“Phew...” Altina leaned back into the sofa cushion. “Great. Sounds like they’re on board.”

“Hah!” Jerome snorted. “Bertram just suffered a crushing defeat, so of course he’s going to listen to you. If we win here, he clears his name. If we lose, he can just pin the blame on someone else. You realize you’ve become the fall guy here, don’t you, Regis?” he teased.

Regis shrugged. “And thanks to that, we have their cooperation. If they weren’t acting in their own interests, then arguing with them would have taken all day.”

Altina knit her brow. “Is this really the time and place to be thinking about accountability?”

“Maybe not. If the Empire ceases to exist entirely, then I think that’ll be the least of their worries...” Regis mused. “But there’s not much else we can do here. I haven’t achieved anything at sea, so it’s unreasonable to expect them to trust me out of nowhere.”

“Oh! Oh! They’ll trust you if your very first plan is a success, though, won’t they?”

“Let’s hope so...”

“So what’s this plan like?” Jerome asked with a mischievous smirk. “Will it succeed?”

“...It will. At least, it will at first.”

“Talk about self-confidence.”

“Oh, no... I just know a thing or two, that’s all. And any confidence I do have won’t be in myself. As Altina said, we need to earn the officers’ trust. While there will undoubtedly be some casualties, I chose a plan that will definitely see results.”

To achieve the ultimate objective of this naval battle, they would need to execute more and more dangerous plans henceforth.

Jerome prodded the sea chart. “Well, I have to admit... it’s obviously going to work. After all, this is one of those heinous scams you’re so good at.”

“There’s nothing heinous about it.”

“Pah! Even if the enemies aren’t the only ones falling for it?”

“N-No, that’s...” Regis scratched his head for a moment. “It will ultimately benefit all parties involved.”

Once again, Jerome snorted. “Have it your way. The sea’s all yours. So, am I holding the fort or what? You’re not putting me on a ship, are you?”

“I’d rather you get some rest this time around, if possible... but should the battle end in failure, we’ll have to make some changes.”

“Personally, I don’t like waiting around with nothing to do. If all I’m doing is prancing around on my horse, my skills will rot.”

Altina suddenly sprung up next to Jerome. “Wait, will you be on one of the ships, Regis!?”

“That is my intent. This plan is centered around a naval battle, so it only makes sense for me to stay beside the admiral.”

“Then I’m coming too!”

“Wh-What!?”

“I’ll come, even if you tell me not to! Assuming the naval battle is a success, there’ll be nothing for those of us still on land to do, right? All the more reason to have me aboard!”

“Err, that’s...”

How am I supposed to stop her? Regis wondered. In all the times Altina had made a sudden decision like this, he hadn’t once managed to change her mind.

After thinking for a moment, he slumped his shoulders. “Hah... Can’t say I didn’t see this coming.”

While it sometimes didn’t seem like it, Altina was thinking about things in her own way, and she acted in accordance with a consistent set of values and beliefs.

“Regis, would you rather I wasn’t around?”

“That’s not true. They say a cannon’s accuracy rate is one in a hundred, so, close-range battles aside, it’s not so easy to land a hit during an exchange. But fire a hundred shots, and some are bound to meet their targets... In a battle of swords, I doubt you’re going to lose, but there’s little you can do when a cannon shell is flying toward you. Please keep that in mind.”

“I know that already.”

“Also, on a ship, you have to obey the captain no matter what. And the admiral will be the one commanding the fleet, not you. If you don’t like that, you do have the authority to change the captain or admiral, but only one person can be allowed to order the sailors at a time. Understood?”

“Yep! Promise!”

“Well... Personally, I’d rather you stayed on land. One wrong move, and we’ll be surrounded by three 74-gun ships—two hundred and twenty-two cannons bombarding us from all sides.”

“Then don’t make any wrong moves!”

“Ha... Haha...”

“Now that I think about it, Regis—do you have the skills to be a captain? I’m sure you’ve read the right books.”

“...I get seasick.”

“That so?”

“What about you?”

“I’ve only ever ridden a rowboat out on a lake.”

“Same here until recently, and let me tell you, it’s a completely different beast. Oh, but a warship should be more stable than a fishing boat, so I imagine you’d be less likely to get seasick... Incidentally, the sailors will definitely laugh if their princess is taken out by seasickness. Are you prepared for that?”

“...I’m more worried about that than the cannons,” Altina admitted, finally showing some weakness.

Jerome made a face as if to say “good grief,” then swiped a bottle of wine from the cupboard. “Well, you two have fun getting nauseated. Me? I’ll manage that in my own way.”