Rakuin no Monshou - Book 5: Chapter 6: The Strategist's Plan

Part 1

“I object.”

When he learned of Orba’s plan, those were the first words out of Shique’s mouth, but it was clear from the start that he would follow it. He was uneasy though. You could say that he felt nothing but uneasy.

“Will Taúlia even move?”

Taúlia would be in danger if Cherik seized the chance to attack their flank. Thus he worried about whether Ax Bazgan would go along with such a risky bet.

Orba had chosen Shique, Stan and Talcott as messengers to Taúlia. None of them were Zerdians. They had decided to take the carriage used for transporting supplies and to disguise themselves as merchants.

“According to what the dragoons have been saying, the Belgana mountain fortress is currently held by a man called Ebra, one of Greygun’s direct subordinates who is as greedy as his master. Because he was deployed away from Helio, he is still lamenting not having taken part in pillaging the city. Probably because he wants a taste of that nectar, he makes unreasonable demands of the people and merchants who pass by the fortress and snatches away their valuables.”

“What do we do if we catch the attention of such a dangerous guy?” Talcott frankly hated his given role. “We don’t have any money for under-the-table dealings. What if he flies into a rage and seizes us?”

“It’s all right, Brother,” Stan on the other hand had given his carefree seal of approval, “besides, wasn’t it you who said that he didn’t want to spend another day here? This is a chance to go back to Taúlia.”

In reality, since Talcott was constantly at odds with the dragoons the only question if things remained as they were was whether he would die of starvation first or be killed by the irritated soldiers. So, since there was no other way, he was reluctantly taking part in the plan. And it could also be said that he believed in that intuition of Stan’s that allowed him to say that it would be “all right”.

At daybreak just before leaving the cave, Shique grasped Orba, who was remaining as hostage, by the shoulders.

“It will definitely return with good news. Until then, don’t do anything reckless.”

“I get it, geez.”

“The same goes for that gentleman,” Shique looked towards Gilliam, who was pretending to take a leak but who had in fact come to see them off. With his large build, he truly looked like a mercenary, so he couldn’t be sent in the role of a messenger.

“If anything happens, you’d better make use of that huge body of yours to protect Orba. It’s for that purpose that you received such a ridiculously large body from your parents.”

“If you’re not back within a week, I’ll tear Orba to shreds,” Gilliam bared his fang-like canines.

A few hours later.

The Belgana fortress was what was left of a fort that Zer Tauran had built to keep a tight watch across the mountains, back when the east had been dotted with violent warrior nations. It had been in Helio’s possession for many decades and guarded against the powers that schemed to cross the border through the Belgana Summits.

According to the information Orba had obtained, a subordinate of Greygun’s called Ebra was currently in command there. As for the soldiers, they numbered about a hundred.

Immediately after the battle at the Coldrin Hills, Ebra had personally led his men from the fortress to hunt for survivors among the defeated army, even though it wasn’t part of his duties. As there had been so few enemy soldiers, the mood within the fortress was now thoroughly slack. The soldiers were conspicuous for amusing themselves by gambling, they drank from morning onwards and would occasionally pry high toll taxes out of merchants or people who were fleeing the destruction of war by heading south.

But that morning, gunshots tore apart the stagnant atmosphere. Was it an enemy attack – the soldiers on guard duty lifted themselves heavily up and climbed the watch tower.

What they saw was a covered carriage approaching in a cloud of dust. Behind it, amid an even denser cloud of dust, were men on horseback brandishing axes and guns. From the ornaments that hung from their backs to the hems of their white clothes, they recognised them at a glance as the belligerent herders from the northern grasslands known as the Pinepey tribe.

The watchmen rang the bell and several dozen soldiers armed with rifles and spears rushed to the gate. Somewhat tardily, Ebra also came running up.

“What should we do?”

“Open the gate,” Ebra’s decision to let the carriage in had nothing to do with his being worried about them. If they made a poor show of impressing the Pinepey tribe then next time, they might attack the fortress. If that happened and they needed to expressly call for reinforcements from Helio, he would be on the receiving end of a harsh rebuke from Greygun.

When he saw the gate open, the driver spurred his horse even more. The gates shut as he glided through and the soldiers lying in wait above showered the Pinepey with gunfire. They were not yet at a distance where it could reach, but it seemed to have been enough of a threat as the nomads immediately turned their horses around and left.

The carriage was almost halfway across the fortress’ inner grounds when it finally drew to a stop. Ebra gave the soldiers orders to inspect it and they reported that within there were only a small man and a young woman. “A woman? Does she look good?” Ebra’s nostrils flared.

“No. She has a hoarse voice and no good with makeup. The man is laid flat either from illness or an injury. According to the driver, they’re foreign merchants who have fled from Helio. They don’t seem to have anything of value.”

As they were not Zerdian soldiers, and also with regards to the woman, Ebra completely lost interest. Still, he didn’t forget to squeeze what money he could out of the merchants as a reward. Negotiating in place of his bedridden master, the driver was clearly reluctant.

“Can’t you give us more of a discount?”

“Don’t get cocky,” the soldier thrust the tip of his spear towards him threateningly, “we saved you. You can shell out the cost of the bullets.”

Several dozen minutes after the carriage had passed through the open gate at the other side of the fortress,

“Phew.”

Turning to look back from inside the carriage, the woman…-ly looking Shique breathed out a sigh. He turned to Talcott who was acting as driver,

“Why didn’t you hand over the money at once? We could have ended up staying there too long if they got suspicious.”

“It’s because I was reluctant back there that we were easily believed. By behaving exactly like merchants, the enemy soldiers didn’t think to suspect us.”

“True, you were pretty good. You seem at home pretending to be a merchant.”

“Brother was originally from a merchant family,” said Stan who was lying stretched out next to Shique and who truly looked sick. “Because he was bad at arithmetic, he ran away from home and boarded a pirate ship.”

“Shut up,” wiping off his cold sweat, Talcott sprung the horse into a gallop. “And of all the things for you to disguise yourself as. Since it’s you, I thought you’d look better than that in women’s clothing.”

“Of course,” Shique puffed out his chest in pride over something strange, “Someone who understands their own face can transform it with nothing but makeup.”

At any rate, the first hurdle had been cleared. Greygun and Ebra didn’t know that Lasvius’ unit had survived, so their level of caution was low. As such, stealthily passing by the fortress in the dead of night might instead have attracted attention, whereas they had readily believed in foreigners being attacked by nomads.

Shique urged the horse onwards and they managed to arrive in Taúlia before nightfall of the second day.

Since they were messengers from Bouwen, even Ax hurried to meet them. As did Esmena.

“Is Bouwen, is Bouwen alive?” Her pallid face became flushed. Although she appeared surprised that the messenger was Shique, whom she had previously invited to the women’s quarters, his own face betrayed nothing and he maintained his role as a messenger before the Bazgan father and daughter.

“Sir Bouwen was injured but as is to be expected from one who is fit and well-trained, he is recovering well. He apologises deeply for having worried and troubled his lordship and the princess, and for having lost his precious subordinates…”

“It’s fine.”

Ax’s face also reflected strong emotions, but when he received the letter from Shique, his expression immediately returned to that of the governor-general.

After Esmena and the messengers had left, he invited Ravan Dol to his living room and, together with the strategist, went through the letter. Ax’s always stern eyes grew sterner.

“Enemy reinforcements?”

“First they performed a large-scale march in order to lure the majority of their enemies into the Coldrin Hills, then they send reinforcements after Helio has fallen. That accursed Garda has not only studied sorcery, he is also rather proficient in the military arts.”

“Are you praising the enemy here? However…” Ax nodded then turned his eyes once more to the letter. That this Lasvius person was lying low with three hundred subordinates on the outskirts of Helio, and that more of his men within the city had made preparations to rise up in arms was not bad information to receive. But the request that they leave Taúlia forthwith and march on Helio to perform a pincer attack was not something he could regard with any immediate favour.

Cherik’s forces had taken up position within a stone’s throw of the border and he couldn’t leave Taúlia defenceless.

“We have three thousand left at hand. If we mobilise the elite guards, the militia and the remaining mercenaries, that gives us at best four thousand. Should we divide that in half and have them march under Raswan’s command?”

“My lord,” Raswan Bazgan, whom he had just been talking about had appeared. His young face was full of vigour.

“What is it? I gave orders for everyone to leave, didn’t I?”

“Is it true that messengers have arrived from Bouwen? What is the state of affairs?”

“That’s…”

Just as Ax was about to explain, Ravan Dol interpolated,

“The contents of the missive were vague,” he said respectfully. “We will now be examining it to ascertain its authenticity.”

Oh? Ax felt sceptical of Ravan’s words. The dagger that the messengers had brought to prove their identity undoubtedly belonged to Bouwen. There was no mistaking it since Ax himself had handed it to him when he had first obtained a rank of command. None other than Ravan had declared that while one could suppose that the enemy might have stolen it to serve their purposes, neither were there any difference between Bouwen’s own handwriting and the one in the letter.

Raswan looked dissatisfied but as he was before the governor-general, he left without protest.

Ax gave the elderly strategist a sidelong glance.

“…What are you thinking, Ravan?”

“It would be best for now to disclose your plans to nobody. Since we hired mercenaries extensively, we must consider the possibility that spies of Garda’s or Cherik’s have slipped in among them. We should continue our preparations in secret then move in a single breath. ”

“In a single breath. But, to do what in a single breath?”

“Move the entire army.”

“The entire army?” Ax was dumbfounded. To have all four thousand soldiers leave Taúlia. “Cer-Certainly Cherik can be beaten if we suddenly move the entire army although we’ll have to be sure to end it before enemy reinforcements arrive.”

“No. Using all of our military might, we will seize Cherik.”

“What?”

As his lord was once more left dumbfounded, Ravan casually continued,

“Even though Cherik has a connection to Garda’s army, all they can do is keep us in check from a safe position after all. The mission they will have been told to perform will simply be to block Taúlia’s movements. They couldn’t possibly imagine that we would go directly to them.”

“But…”

“With that, the castle will be empty and Garda’s forces, seeing a good opportunity, will also make their move. It will be easy for Lasvius’ unit to take Helio and this time, we will be able to perform a pincer movement from there. With that as our aim, we will need to force Cherik to surrender quickly. That is all.”

“Using all of our military might, was it?”

“Yes.”

Ax had been staring wide-eyed, but he soon started gazing fixedly at Ravan’s face.

“What is it?”

“No, you just feel like an assassin sent by Garda’s army. If we encounter even the smallest setback while capturing Cherik, Taúlia will fall in that time.”

“It’s fine, isn’t it my lord,” Ravan’s tone of voice was exactly that of someone persuading a child, “this is our best and last chance. If we act slowly, we will be the ones driven into a corner. If the worst were to happen as we are about to return, we can always fight Cherik with our backs to the wall. At that point, we can take position in Cherik as we aim to take back Taúlia.”

“You’re very bold. Have you been influenced by that youngster who bombed Apta himself?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” unusually for the elder, Ravan turned his gaze aside for a moment. “At any rate, let us hope for a good opportunity and have our scouts keep a close watch on the passage between Cherik and Helio. We must grasp things at the root. First of all, we must cut them off here.”

There would be no mistakes. Ax too had more than half resigned himself.

Part 2

Within the Belgana Summits came the sound of repeated gunshots. Under the eyes of the birds who were flapping their wings among the trees, the white-clad Pinepey tribe was attacking the fortress. That tribe’s forte was firing from horseback.

Opposite them, from atop of the bulwark and from within the towers, those in the fort were counterattacking with guns or bows and arrows.

After the exchange of bullets had lasted a while, the Pinepey tribe began to withdraw. Inside the gate, Ebra snorted.

“Shit, day after day those irritating bastards. We’re wasting bullets on this. We’ll run out if we don’t receive supplies from Helio.”

Maybe in revenge for having hindered their attack on the carriage or maybe because they judged that the fort was worth plundering, the Pinepey had been attacking them every day without fail.

Ebra had expected that driving them away once or twice would be no problem, but this was the third day.

They had used up too many bullets in threatening the enemy on the first two days. Ebra, who hadn’t thought for a moment that they were beginning a war of attrition, now reluctantly decided on hard-line tactics.

“Right. As of tomorrow, we’ll have soldiers lying in ambush along the ridgeway. If the enemy attempts another raid, we’ll cut off their escape route. We’ll then open the gate and start in pursuit.”

Their enemies didn’t have stout armour. However because of that, they were nimble and on top of that they excelled at handling horses. If they chased after them in a normal way, they would not be able to catch up with them. That was why they were setting up an ambush, and Ebra was also adamant that the pursuing corps was not to wear armour.

“Once we capture one or two of them, we’ll get the information about where their tribe is then attack them. There will be women too. Who knows how lucky you’ll get,” Ebra told his men to raise their morale.

And the next day, the Pinepey tribe attacked again. There was the usual gunfight and it seemed that they would as usual slip away when on cue, the troops waiting in ambush appeared from the other side of the hill. The horses of the Pinepey tribe bolted upwards. Then the fortress’ gates opened and more soldiers drew up from their rear.

“After them, after them, after them!”

The Zerdians who had chosen to live in cities made of stone tended to despise those of their kin who had not abandoned a life of nomadism. Ebra’s conscience didn’t feel a twinge at hunting down these savages and annihilating their settlement. With the Pinepey unable to move, they would easily carry off the pincer attack.

As they were descending the north side of the hill, the path was filled with a brilliant light. Staring hard, the soldiers were horrified to see fully armed and armoured riders coming up the opposite end of the slope.

“They fell for it. Go!” Roared the giant at the vanguard as shook his lion’s mane of hair, and fifty riders swooped down on them.

The Pinepey group at once threw off their white clothes and drew the swords from at their waist.

“Ah!” Shouted the soldiers as the group drew near the fortress and they saw that they were not Pinepey. There was a subtle difference in skin tone between nomads and Zerdians, and the weapons they wielded were also dissimilar. The Pinepey usually used scimitars but the swords they had just pulled out had the wide blades of the broadswords commonly used within the centre of the continent.

The soldiers from the fortress fell easily to the three-stage attack [1]. As they wore no armour, the riders with their swords and spears pierced their chests without difficulty, slashed through them and toppled them from their horses.

“Dammit, withdraw, withdraw! Wait! Don’t shut the gate, I’m still…”

Frothing at the mouth, Ebra fled towards the fort just as those within, realising the crisis, were about to close the gate.

By then however, his men had all fallen dead along the mountain path and the riders were already starting to assail the gate. Ebra was caught in the charge and his spine was crushed under the horses’ hooves, killing him.

A few dozen minutes later, the Belgana fortress which had been filled with the sound of screams and of swords clashing, fell silent.

“We did it,” the mounted warrior who had constantly been in the van – Gilliam – called out to his companions. His mane of hair was red from his victims’ blood. “You guys too. To be honest, I’ve never known men fight with as much valour as you did.”

The dragoons from Lasvius’ unit who had played the part of the nomads also heaped praise on Gilliam’s fighting style. They had once looked coldly at the Mephians but in the end, they were like-minded people fighting on the same side. The pent-up resentment at the way they had to live that Gilliam and the dragoons had accumulated had erupted during the fight. But that wasn’t the reason Ebra’s indolent troops had been no match for them.

Although it would have been better to attack in greater numbers, they didn’t have enough horses and armour. They had bought the horses and clothes from the real Pinepey tribe in exchange for what few remaining weapons they still had.

From a separate path leading to the fortress appeared a few dozen men, Orba in their lead. They were drenched in their opponents’ blood.

“Oh, the sage is back,” Gilliam’s thick lips curved into a smile. “Orba! How’s this for a result?”

“Splendid,” Orba answered from horseback.

Orba and the others had been lying in ambush along the mountain road to Helio where they had taken the task of hunting down any soldiers who tried to flee the fortress for the city.

The soldiers carried out food and weapons from inside the fortress. When the gold and valuables that Ebra had amassed were thrown out, the soldiers looked amazed, then laughed.

Orba and Gilliam stood a little apart.

“As expected after a battle.”

“Hush, don’t say any more. But although it’s annoying to work to your plan, that went beautifully.”

They hadn’t attacked the fort when Shique and the others were sent as messengers because they had lacked time and preparations. Messengers had to reach Taúlia as soon as possible so Orba had reluctantly given up on assailing the fortress for the time being, and Shique’s group had daringly made that dangerous crossing. However thanks to that, they had enough time to prepare for their attack. They had probed the communications network with Helio and located suitable ground for soldiers to lie in an ambush, while at the same time diverting the attention of scouts through repeated raids disguised as members of the Pinepey tribe.

Luring out the enemy required high morale and no common amount of determination. Although fleeing had been a pretence, showing your back to the enemy on a battlefield demanded courage and it would have been easy for things to degenerate into a stampede. In other words, Lasvius’ unit was best suited for that task which would once again prove their bonds of steel.

“It’s not over yet. With this, we can finally guarantee communications with the south but nothing more.”

“You really are an unlovable bastard. Can’t you just quietly accept praise?” Gilliam said, but for Orba this was truly no more than a beginning.

Orba immediately had a messenger race to Shique who was still in Taúlia. Once they heard that the plan had succeeded, Shique, Stan and Talcott returned to the fortress which they reached before nightfall two days later. “That was tough,” Shique blurted out as soon as he saw Orba’s mask.

Orba wondered whether he meant the time when they passed through the fortress, but listening to him speak, it seemed that they had encountered trouble when they were leaving Taúlia.

“What happened?”

“Taúlia has temporarily closed its gates. Getting in and out is no easy thing and we got stopped once. Only the higher-ups knew that we were Sir Bouwen’s messengers, you see. Somehow or another Elder Ravan invented an errand for us and we were finally allowed to pass.”

“Oh? So Taúlia is finally going to make a move after all.”

“Yes. But…”

At Shique’s report, for an instant, Orba’s eyes under the mask opened wide. The errand from Ravan that had given them permission to go out of the gate was to carry a verbal message.

“Be sure to tell General Bouwen.” The message that was prefaced with that remark was:

We will not mobilise to go to Helio. However we will mobilise our entire military might.

Gilliam frowned.

“What does that mean? Shit, we don’t have times for riddles.”

“No,” said Orba, recovering from his momentary discomposure. “I see. As expected from Ax and Ravan. They’re making a bold move.”

“If you’re the one saying so, they really must be.”

Without appearing to notice Shique’s teasing, Orba turned to look towards the south.

“How will Garda’s forces move after this? Will they wait for their reinforcements until the end or will they invade Taúlia?”

The timing to put the plan into operation would change depending on that. That was the point that was most crucial to a plan. No matter how fantastic the idea, it would have no effect if the timing was wrong. Conversely, with optimal timing, even a plain and humdrum stratagem could have tremendous effect.

Orba knew that well.

Soon, having received instructions from him, the soldiers at the fortress started to move. Most of them believed that this was according to their commander Lasvius’ strategy and besides, they no longer felt it was so strange to follow this swordsman, who seemed like a young boy but who also had a hint of being an old fox.

At the same time.

Moldorf was riding his large horse down Helio’s main road. He was a renowned general called the Red Dragon of Kadyne; there was no one to block his path. He was a man of whom it was said that when he charged forward on the battlefield with his spear, the enemy line would be smashed from a single wave of his hand.

But then from the start there hadn’t been the shadow of a person along this road. Both the shops and houses that lined it on either side had their windows shut tight and the street was as still as death. No, better to say that the town itself was dead.

Garda doesn’t give life to anything.

In the areas he controlled, be it politics or production, Garda did nothing to govern. He merely killed land after land.

It had been the same in Moldorf’s homeland of Kadyne. He ground his teeth and spurred his horse onwards. A corpse had been left lying on the street. From somewhere, a child could be heard crying. He could feel gazes filled with hatred and despair from the windows looking down on him.

Shaking them all off, Moldorf arrived at Helio castle.

All of the generals had already gathered. He looked around at them.

Everyone is making the same face, thought Moldorf. Lakekish, Fugrum, Eimen – all were famed generals from the city-states that Garda had toppled. However irritation and resignation were painted on each countenance so that their expressions all closely resembled each other’s. Naturally, whenever he thought that this also applied to him, Moldorf felt anger hot enough to boil his entrails rise up within him.

Still, the news he heard that day left him astounded.

“What did you say? Taúlia’s army is headed for Cherik?”

“There is no mistake,” the one who nodded was a small man wearing a hood who was accompanying Greygun. A sorcerer directly subordinate to Garda. Moldorf had observed a number of such men and the atmosphere that surrounded them was always the same. It appeared that this time, one way or another this was the man acting as commander there in Helio where Moldorf and the others were.

“My unit has Taúlia under surveillance but there has been no such report.”

If there was a person who could grasp the whole extent of the situation, they would not be able to hide their surprise any more than Moldorf could. Ravan should have been advancing with the preparations for the march on Cherik without letting any news of it leak to the outside. Even if there was, say, a traitor, the speed with which the information had been conveyed was unnatural.

But Moldorf had been incorporated into Garda’s forces. With vaguely terrified feelings, he understood that Garda possessed magical powers.

“If what you say is true, then is Taúlia defenceless? If so, this is our chance to topple it.”

Even as he spoke, Moldorf felt that his words were hollow. On some level, he had probably held hope. Hope that the Bazgans, the legitimate descendants of the former Zer Tauran, would hold out against Garda.

That too –

– Had been no more than a fleeting ideal. The soldiers that would be departing from Taúlia were said to number four thousand. According to those on watch, they had not employed any other soldiers, nor was there another power that would rush to them with reinforcements, so this was without a doubt Taúlia’s full army.

“No,” said the small man in a voice that seemed to slither, “We can obtain Taúlia at any time. It is to Cherik that we go. There we will catch Ax Bazgan in a pincer movement and take his severed head.”

Part 3

In the middle of the night, Yamka II, the king of Cherik, was woken up as he was sleeping with his favourite concubine. It was with irritated feelings that he opened the door but when he heard the soldier’s report, he staggered against the wall in surprise.

A large army was said to be advancing on them from Taúlia. The troop of seven hundred that were encamped at the border could only warn Taúlia’s army not to cross over it then stand back without firing a single arrow or bullet.

“D-Damn you, Ax. You’ve gone mad.”

At thirty-three, Yamka was still young. However, his hair was thinning and though his features resembled those of his sister Marilène, they were so slack that even that resemblance might change if only a single one those features were altered.

Cherik was tied to Garda. And it was as Ravan had guessed: Yamka believed that as long as he did what he had been told by holding Taúlia in check, then good luck would tumble his way even if he did nothing but sleep from then on.

For Taúlia to go so far as to risk a dangerous attack and to send soldiers to Cherik…

I-Is he angry? Has Ax decided that there’s nothing to be done against Garda’s army so he will at least take the h-he-head of Cherik’s king? Otherwise, he would not be pouring all of his armed strength in their direction.

“Your Majesty, what do we do?”

“Please make a decision. The enemy is approaching the border fortress of Yāma. The soldiers must receive their orders, whether to fight or to retreat, so that they do not die in vain.”

The ministers too were nothing but agitated and unreliable. Although Yāma was a fortress protecting the border, its defensive capacities were so poor that its barrier was covered in dust. Even though the seven hundred soldiers who had retreated were said to now all be crammed into it, if the enemy was determined to pass, they were only expected to last an hour.

“Send a messenger to Helio. With changes of airships and horses, they can quickly…”

It had already been done half an hour ago, but Ravan Dol’s scouts had already set fire to the post station for the horses. And when they had run to fetch an airship, they had found that the ether had run out.

In any case, even if the messenger returned with good news, it would take a while. Cherik’s king was pressed to make a decision regarding the enemy who was drawing towards their gates.

“O-Oh to hell with it!”

Yamka II’s swarthy cheeks turned red and he banged his fist upon the table. As things were, they could do nothing but offer peace negotiations to Taúlia. It was terrible to have to betray Garda and it was disappointing to lose the hard-won chance to have the name of their tiny state of Cherik resound throughout the entire region of Tauran, but they couldn’t turn straw into gold.

“W-writing im-implements for a letter.”

With that, it was decided that Yamka would write a letter offering peace negotiations. Deplorable, thought the ministers but even so, they could find no other solution out of this situation. Yamka’s writing brush dashed along the page while his face showed nothing but anxiety.

Should I hand over the joint development rights to the Soma grain-producing region? That a tiny power such as Cherik was somehow rich was thanks to Lake Soma. It was heartrending to part with it, but if they didn’t Ax might not forgive them.

His eyes grew blurry as he wrote. Wretched at having wasted the concessions over Lake Soma that his father and grandfather had long fought Helio over, he couldn’t help but unconsciously shed tears. And then,

“Your Majesty!”

A soldier barged in. Yamka II almost flew up from his chair. Had Ax finally toppled the fortress, he wondered, and was he even now on the march? However,

“Troops are approaching from the direction of Helio! From the number of lights they are carrying, it’s probably Garda’s army!”

“What?”

His tears dried up and in their place his entire countenance light up with joy as Yamka II stood up.

“R-Reinforcements. The lord sorcerer has kept his faith and instead of proceeding directly to Taúlia has hurried to our rescue. Right, in that case, we will pull back the soldiers from Yāma Fortress. We will draw the enemy to the outskirts of Cherik and catch them in a pincer movement along with Garda’s forces.”

His earlier wretchedness had vanished without a trace and now he was giving orders in a voice as bold as that of a long-serving general.

The vassals were in equally joyful spirits.

“That damn Ax is underestimating us.”

“We’ll show you that the light and lineage of the Bazgan House no longer hold any power in Tauran.”

The stone castle was suddenly wrapped in a strange liveliness.

A few hours earlier, troops under Moldorf’s command had raced out of Helio so quickly that they appeared to be flying. Their speed was such that from behind, all that could be perceived was a billowing cloud of dust. That was because,

“If Bazgan dies and Taúlia falls, this battle will be over,” said the hooded staff officer who had accompanied Greygun as he looked at each of the commanders in turn with a hint of contempt. “When the battle ends, Lord Garda will release the inhabitants of each city. And of course everyone’s family and friends as well.”

“Is that true?”

Moldorf was going to press him further, but a strange feeling of pressure prevented him from forming his words. But there was a fierce light in his eyes as they alone glared at the man.

“Of course,” the man answered matter-of-factly. “Once Taúlia has fallen and Ax Bazgan is dead, it will be tantamount to saying that all the western lands of Tauran will belong to Lord Garda. After that, the enemies will be in the east: Mephius, Ende and Garbera. For that purpose, your assistance will be needed more than ever before.”

Tch. Arrant nonsense! Moldorf’s face, which was normally so stern as to make him unapproachable, was now so stiff a child might go into convulsions just from looking at him.

But not matter how nonsensical it was, Moldorf had family left in Kadyne. For their release he would risk his life, no, more than his life, he would throw away his warrior’s soul in this battle that had to be won.

The troops had left the outskirts of Helio and even the cloud of dust had finally cleared, when the guards on lookout from among the soldiers left in the city strained their eyes eastwards.

“Oi, look at that.”

The ridgeline of the eastern Belgana Summits was bright red under the night sky. In that direction lay the fort which Ebra and a hundred men should have been occupying.

The soldiers’ faces turned pale.

“No way. Is it a detached force from Taúlia?”

“Go and inform Lord Greygun!”

Currently, only Greygun’s seven hundred or so troops remained in Helio. On his orders, soldiers were arrayed near the city’s open east gate and people flurried in and out of it.

As they passed through the gate and entered the city, several soldiers clad in the armour and helmets of the Red Hawks raised their eyes to the scouts’ airships that were flying off. At the front of that group that walked with heads down was none other than the former commander of Helio’s dragoons, Lasvius himself.

According to Orba’s plan, if they set fire to the fortress, the gates’ surroundings would be overflowing with soldiers and it would be easy to get in and out.

A flood of emotions welled within Lasvius’ breast as he passed through the gate doors wearing the Red Hawks’ insignia.

“Oi,” a Red Hawks mercenary called out to their group. Lasvius’ face grew stiff under his helmet.

A soldier at the end of the line turned around.

“What?”

“It’s about strengthening the watch on the Helio soldiers. Even if we take their families hostage, those kinds of soldiers won’t be any use if it comes to a defensive battle. There’s no saying when they’ll betray us.”

“Got it.”

“Wait. That’s a pretty high and mighty way of speaking. You, what platoon are you from?”

The mercenary was openly angry. He appeared to be of some sort of platoon leader rank. At the front, Lasvius clicked his tongue. The would attract attention from all sides if they acted suspicious and got into a fight.

Should we run instead?

Helio was their birthplace. Once they entered it, they would naturally be familiar with its layout. They might be better off making a desperate for it from here and hiding themselves somewhere then…

“Who am I?” Instead of revealing the face under his helmet, the soldier who had been dealing with the mercenary since earlier on glared at him. “Did Lord Greygun especially ask you to check who I am? I don’t mind. Let’s both go and bother Lord Greygun about something so trivial during this emergency, why don’t we?”

“Ah, n-no. Sorry. My bad.”

He must have been truly afraid of Greygun. The mercenary hastily fled from the vicinity of the gate.

Lasvius quietly approached the soldier,

“You’re a bold guy.”

“The Red Hawks don’t share a bond like your unit. By observing the leader, you can guess what an organisation’s real situation is like,” answered Orba. He had of course taken off his mask as he now wore a Red Hawks helmet.

With Lasvius as first on the list, five dragoons as well as Orba had been chosen to enter the urban areas of Helio.

I’m back, as Lasvius walked step by step along the flagstone road, he was shaken by that thought that welled within him. But for now, he had to hide his face and identity and stealthily make his way along.

The day will come when we make our triumphant return and openly walk along this street with our heads held high. During the hungry and miserable days in those dark caves, Lasvius had held to that one belief. Even though he had to throw away his pride as a dragoon, his chest burnt with the resolve that they must at all cost greet that day’s arrival.

This night has ended. And now, “that day” that we believed in has arrived.

Lasvius’ group went down the side streets and, as had already been agreed, linked up with a number of his subordinates who had already penetrated into the city. After that and under their guidance, they split up into several groups. One group which would free Helio’s regular soldiers, one which would first make preparations for causing an uprising within the city, and one which would infiltrate the royal court.

Orba was part of the last group.

References and Translation Notes

1. ↑ The attack is described as a ‘Tsuri-Nobuse’, which is a tactic that makes use of three troops (one enemy unit and two units of your own) in which you let the enemy troop advance (tsuri) while the remaining two hide, lying low on both sides (nobuse) before coming out and surrounding the enemy.