*

　Late in November 43rd year of the imperial calendar - Dominic, the chairman of the Pics Trading Company, was lying in the dungeon of Alfiruk Castle.
　His whole body was burning hot, and his thoughts were frenzied, as if he was floating in a fever.
　It was because of the interrogations that were repeated day after day.
　No, this was not a simple questioning.
　It was torture.
　I have some experience with rough stuff, but I have little tolerance for physical damage.
　In fact, I even screamed and cried and begged for forgiveness when my fingernails were ripped off.
　How can you endure torture?
　The answer is simple.
　I did not.
　The interrogators don't believe me if I'm honest.
　So the torture continues.
　If the interrogator doesn't give you the answers you want, the torture will never stop.
　Dominic didn't realize this until he lost both hands and both toes.
　Shouldn't he be able to speak his falsehoods and die in peace?
　He thought about it, but even with his wrists gone, he's still speaking the truth.
　When I lost my fingers, I tried to at least put up a fight.
　If I spoke the truth or a falsehood, they would confiscate the goods of the Chamber of Commerce and kill me.
　It's not so much a matter of resolve as a matter of determination.
　If he had taken his family hostage, it would have been easy for him to lose his mind.
　If they didn't do that, then the family was able to escape safely.

''........I can't bear to have things go the way I want them to.

　Dominic cleared his throat as he gasped in intense pain.

*

It's getting a little cramped in here, isn't it?

　Tilia muttered as she looked at the soldiers training at the training grounds.
　The area of the training grounds is more than three times larger than before.
　Of course, it wasn't spread out by the usual means - steady logging and grass cutting repeatedly.
　It was Zion's power.
Among the divine power techniques of the 'Mother Goddess of Yellow Earth and Fertility' was the manipulation of corruption.
　It would be frightening if it was used in an attack, but in times like these, it is reliable.
　Tilia stared at the back of the training grounds.
　Most of it is a clearing, but there is also a field position that was built as a mock-up.
　These trenches were built at Dr. Weissman's suggestion.
　It was lined with three layers of thorny iron obstacles, and trenches were dug to wrap around the obstacles.
　It might be easier to understand if the trenches were a recreation of the Crane Wing camp.

'Crono?'

　Tilia approached me with concern.

'Well, what were we talking about?'
I said we've outgrown our space.
It's an expansion.
I know that.

　Tilia responds after a short pause.

''Your volunteer army was five thousand five hundred, wasn't it?
Less than five hundred of them will be your grandfather.
'I didn't expect you to volunteer so much,'

　Tilia said with a sigh, and Crono shifted his gaze to the training grounds.
　The two old men rushed through the center of the training grounds as if they were fighting for the lead.
　Gutsy, gutsy collisions.
　It's Manchausen and Alonso.
　They both kicked the ground at the same time, falling down and raising their crossbows.
　An arrow is released and shoots through a human-shaped target that was quite far away.
　Manchausen shot through the head and Alonso shot through the chest.
　A subordinate volunteer catches up with him for a while and shoots arrows at the target.
　Some of the arrows miss, but--well, that's about right.

"So be it. We're good!
We're better than you!

　Manchausen and Alonso are either fur seals trying to defend their territory or they clash against each other like walruses against their chests.
　The first time I saw them, they were hitting each other with their bare hands, so I paid attention and they started to fight like they do now.

''........Those two.......''

　Crono let out a sigh.
　Many of the five hundred old knights are rather quirky people, but Manchausen and Alonso have swept the needle.
　On top of that, they seem to have a rivalry with each other and try to compete with each other at every turn.
　Suddenly, the two men turned their gaze this way - to Tilia.

'Gyahaha!　Princess Tyria, did you see what we did?
'Princess Tyria!　Look at us, look at us!
...high tension.

　I mutter.
　The tension is so high that I want to rush in and ask if they're deciding on a drug.
　Gently looking at the situation, I saw that Tilia was waving at them with a brilliant smile on her face.
　It couldn't be my imagination that her movements were jerky.

''Gahhhh!　Princess Tyria has waved to me!
No, he waved to me!

　The two men clashed against each other, turning their chests as before.

''Let's have a game to decide which way Princess Tilia waved to us!
Hmm, I'm going to win.
I waved to both of them.

　Tilia's mutterings didn't seem to reach her, and they returned to their original positions, bumping into each other.

I've got a headache.
They are knights who have come together for Tyria.
I know that.
They're both rather capable, aren't they?
I know that too.

　Tyria grunted.
　He has ten volunteers attached to one old knight.
　The other old knights, as well as Manchausen and Alonso, are keeping their men together well.

''Well, well, I guess we'll manage.''
Sylvania's been very supportive.
You have no choice but to obey, so why not obey from the start?

　Tyria said irritably.

'It's because they allow half autonomy in there. It's going to take some time.'
'You're the reason we're autonomous.
Still, there are procedures to follow, you know.

　The fact that you chose it yourself, even if you didn't have a choice, is important.

'Originally, you were the one who...'

　Tyria was about halfway through, and then she held her tongue.

'No, let's not.'
You're not going to say anything?
After all, we approve of it too, right?

　Tilia crossed her arms and pouted her lips in a way that didn't seem amused.
　'I had to worry about the war chest because Crono said he'd pay the volunteers.

'And it wasn't a bad move if you look at the results. We were able to gather a volunteer army, and it helped to control it.'
If you're going to praise me, praise me faster.
I would if it wasn't for you.

　Tyria covered her mouth with her hand as if she were thinking about it.

''Just for the record, I'm not taking you lightly. I said that I thought you would understand, and that's what I would do with anyone but you. Don't get me wrong in any weird way.
You don't have to be so sure.
These things need to be said properly.
Heh, what's on your mind?
'I don't want you to stab me in the back. You're not going to recover from that, I am. I'm not going to relapse.
I'm afraid I'm going to have a nervous breakdown.

　Crono looked down.
　At least Tilia thinks there is no chance of being stabbed in the back.

'Wait, you're mistaken. I said I believe you. I don't expect you to betray me in the slightest.
I believe in you.
I'm getting anxious.
'The sprouting of mutual distrust because you say something unnecessary...'
I'm done talking about it.

　Tilia crossed her arms and stared at the mock camp.
　Currently, there are exercises going on in the mock camp.
　Both the attackers and the defenders are crossbowmen.
　The equipment is the same, but the defenders have an overwhelming advantage.
　The defenders can hide in the trenches and avoid being attacked, but the attackers have nowhere to hide.
　It's a handicap battle reminiscent of a military school exercise.
　It's the kind of training necessary to learn group combat, but most of the time the attacker loses the will to fight.
　It's a battle in which defeat is halfway decided.
　There is a limit to what I can say to motivate you.
　This time is different.
　The attacker lies on the ground and crawls forward.

"Don't be frightened!
'Oh!'

　The sallow-skinned middle-aged men inspire, and the boys scream with their hardened voices.
　They are volunteers from the Confederation of Tribes, but they are not engravers.
　According to what Sif told me, not all the people in the Confederation of Tribes are able to apply the imprint.
　They didn't tell me the details, but maybe they are recruiting mercenary volunteers by making the imprinted magicians a special entity.

''Yeah, yeah, the guys in the Confederation of Tribes are always very motivated.''
It's not that the other volunteers aren't motivated, though.

　Tilia nodded in satisfaction, and Crono lightly cowered his shoulders.
　The volunteers of the various tribal confederations were generally high in morale.
　This is the reason why they volunteered - the difference in motivation.
　The volunteers of the Confederation of Miscellaneous Tribes are trying to win the future.

'You were successful in not making it a Coalition unit.
Well, you know.

　I was hoping to use this as an opportunity to reconcile, but it's difficult to do so when there is such a difference in motivation.

''How are the mercenaries doing?''
Well, we're generally doing well. And the 250 new arrivals.
I see.

　Tyria let out a breath of relief.
　The newly arrived two hundred and fifty mercenaries would serve as the escort for the troop merchants.
　It's a time when we want to have as much strength as possible, but we can't cut ties with the Holy Argo Kingdom.

''We want to decorate our first battle with a flourish.
I don't think I'm going to win this thing in style.
...Crono.

　Tilia gave him a frustrated look.

'What are you going to do with that mindset now?
My mind-set is second to none. It's just that I have to fight in a way that's not noble.

　Volunteers are a defensive force.
　You can't win just by defending them, and considering the morale and skill level, it's not a good idea to prolong the battle.

''Well, I think I can do better than when I served as a lord.
....

　Tilia shuddered with a buzz.

'I only feel uneasy when you give me that look in bed, but...'
Is it reliable now?
I'm more worried.

　Tilia said with a sigh.

''Well you're a soldier, aren't you?''
You don't know what you're talking about.
I was nostalgic for my military school days.

　Tilia whispered in a whispered tone and Crono gently stroked the wound in his right eye.

'I didn't expect it to be like this then.
'If I'd expected to be leading a rebellion when I was in military school, I wouldn't have gotten myself into this situation in the first place.
Not the rebels, the Imperial Guard.
If you rephrase it, it won't make sense, will it?
I know that.

　Tilia said, miffed, and relaxed in a huff.

'Crono, don't die?'
I'll do my best.

　Saying that, Crono cowered his shoulders.



　Lucas Lesato rides his horse and heads north along the city road.
　He filled his mouth with water from his canteen, rinsed his mouth and spat it out onto the ground.
　The water he drew from the Baron Bowties' territory was completely warm.

''Commander of the Legion, if you don't mind, I'll send you to fetch some water?''
I don't want it.

　Lucas replied shortly and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform.

'What do you think?'
With 20,000 men, we could easily conquer Sylvania and conquer Hachel.

　The second-in-command said with the ease of going to a tavern.
　He was even proud of his appearance.
　Well, it would feel good to be No. 2 in a legion consisting of 20,000.

''I've heard that the Marquis of Erakis' territory is enriched. I'm looking forward to it now.''
Okay.

　The deputy doesn't even seem to doubt the victory.
　Instead of doubting, he's already thinking about winning - and then looting.
　I'd like to share as much of that brainpower as I can with a piece of it.
　Lucas isn't a great commander, but he knew this mission was going to be a tough one.
　There was no end to the uncertainties, but the first problem was the low level of skill.
　Speaking of 20,000 troops sounds good.
　If the numbers mislead you, you'll be as hyped up as your second-in-command.
　But the reality is that they are a bunch of crows.
　When you make up a corps, you pull out a battalion as is or half of it.
　On top of that, they trained and raised their skill level as a corps.
　This time around a hundred or so soldiers were drawn from one battalion to make up the corps.
　They didn't all come together at the same time.
　Because each battalion sent out soldiers individually, there was no time for training.
　No, even if they had time, they wouldn't have been able to train effectively.
　Lucas's subordinates didn't have the personnel to do so.
　Then there's the bias in the military disciplines.
　The cavalry is Lucas's men - only a thousand cavalry.
　And they are not heavy cavalry, but light cavalry.
　The archers are less than a thousand, and the heavy infantry is less than a thousand.
　The infantry is the main army.
　There was no way to formulate a flexible strategy under these circumstances.
　We must rely on numbers and repeat the assault.
　Finally, we must resupply.
　Since they are marching through imperial territory, they are replenishing their military provisions at the territories they pass through, but the way to do this is to requisition them.
　The advantage of this is that they don't have to devote all their soldiers to transporting goods but...
　Let's stop, Lucas said, shaking his head.
　The Director of Military Affairs, Ralph Libra, had taken these problems into account when planning this operation.
　What's the point now, Lucas thought to himself.
　I'm not a straightforward commander, and I don't have the authority to ask for a reconsideration of the mission.
　All I can do now is to go with the flow.
　It's an end that I think I deserve.
　Lucas believes that human nature is evil.
　It's comforting to see human beings being tainted by evil.
　On the other hand, he hoped for the emergence of justice to judge him.
　Both mean it.
　That was the intention, but in hindsight, maybe he just wanted to believe that justice existed.

''By the way, what about the Barony of Treis?''
Didn't you get the briefing on the mission?
'I heard you were going to drop Sylvania and Hachel.

　His second in command scratched his head in embarrassment and Lucas let out a sigh.

''Well I'm done making them declare themselves indefensible.
Defenseless?

　The adjutant nods his head curiously.

'Didn't you learn that in military school?'
I don't remember that.

　Lucas let out another sigh.
　Deeply, this time.
　I get the feeling that what on earth are they teaching at the military school?

'Don't give me a sigh, please teach me.
All you have to do is get your lord to declare surrender.
You can make as many promises as you want, right?
So I'm going to disarm them and leave the gates open.
...I see.

　The deputy nodded, but he didn't seem to be convinced by one now.
　Well, I understand the feeling.
　After all, a declaration of indefensibility doesn't work unless both sides keep their promises.

''We just need to keep it until we attack Hachel.
Oh, I see.

　His second-in-command nodded as if he had a point, but Lucas had a bad feeling about it.



　Baronet Treis Greenwich--Lucas was led by the old butler through a corridor of well-balanced furnishings.
　The old butler stopped in the middle of the corridor and slowly opened the door.

''Please wait over here.''
Yeah.

　Lucas entered the room - the reception room and sat down smack dab in the sofa.

''................''

　Suddenly my breath catches and I press down on my chest.
　My heart is about to be crushed.
　The pain was such an illusion.
　After a while, the pain began to gradually ease.
　The pain eased to a tolerable degree and Lucas leaned back on the couch.
　He took out a handkerchief and wiped the greasy sweat off his face.
　Mindlessly, the pain intervals seemed to be getting shorter.
　Would he keep it until he could subdue Hachel?
　Such anxiety passed through his chest and he smiled bitterly.
　At that moment, the door opened.
　The door was opened and a fat man walked into the reception room.
　He was thinner than Lucas, though, and he must be ten years younger in age.
　It was definitely Baron Trace.
　When he locked eyes with Lucas, he walked over and knelt down.

'Count Lesat!　This is some kind of mistake!
"...please take a seat on the couch first.

　'What explanation did you give?' said Lucas, feigning anger at the messenger he'd dispatched, but feigning composure and urging him to sit down.

'Yes, sir,'

　Baron Treis sat shallowly on the sofa facing him.

'I don't know what explanation my subordinate gave, but I apologize if I expressed myself in a way that was misleading.
....

　Baron Treis was silent, but his eyes were busy moving.

'We only wish to pass through your territory, sir.
If it were by the Emperor's command, I'd have none of it.

　Baron Trace replied, wiping his greasy sweat with his handkerchief.

''Just....''
"Just?
"Some of my men are not pleased with your alliance with the Marquis of Erakis.

　This was a lie.
　Few of his subordinates knew that the Marquis of Erakis - although it was Princess Tyria who was the initiator - had formed an economic alliance with the surrounding lords.

''That was just to eliminate the toll tax and unify the stall system.
I see. We have a stall system.
Yeah, that's right.

　I was only slightly intrigued.
　It would be easier to do business if there was no longer a toll tax and people could move freely between territories.
　Besides, the unification of the stall system is a good idea.
　Commoners are uneducated.
　It is very difficult for an uneducated person to get a business license.
　They don't know how to do business.
　But if the stall system is unified, it will be much less difficult to obtain a business license.
　If you have experience in obtaining a business license, you can use it to your advantage.
　It's not good," Lucas said, clutching his temples and shaking his head.
　It will only make things worse if you are interested in the person you are about to attack.

I see your point," he said. But as the person in charge of the army, I cannot ignore the words of the general.
So what do I do?
I'm asking you to declare yourself indefensible.
....

　When Lucas cut him off, Baron Treis fell silent.
　He disarmed himself and opened the castle gates.
　He's asking me to throw away even the art of defending myself when a war is about to break out.
　Any decent lord would be troubled.

''Will you at least allow me to open the castle gates?
I'm sorry.

　Baron Treis gave him a clinging look, but Lucas could only shake his head.

''As a matter of fact, you have been placed in a delicate position because of the Marquis of Erakis' rebellion.
Oh, no...

　Baron Trace's complexion has gone from pale to earthy in color.
　It's true that we're being placed in a delicate position.
　However, declaring yourself indefensible does not necessarily improve your position.
　Everything will depend on the emperor's own heart.

"Declare the defenseless and prepare some military provisions and I will advise His Majesty Alfort. Baron Trace is a man of great loyalty...
But there were 20,000 military bases to fry.

　Baron Trace said with a grunt.
　A soldier consumes a thousand grams of wheat per day.
　That's twenty thousand men, that's twenty tons per day.

'Excuse me, but haven't the taxes just been paid?'
I sold it with the bare minimum of wheat left.

　Lucas frowned.
　The choice to keep and sell the wheat they consume is not a mistake, but for this time it's a bad move.
　Baron Trace would have to buy back the wheat for more money than he got from selling it.
　Of course, he could invoke his coercive power to commandeer it, but then he would lose his trust.

'I will not leave now to show my vassals to the empire.
...I understand.

　Baron Trace said in a voice that sounded like he was spitting blood.

*

　Philip was drinking in a tavern.
　It was a tavern, but it was in a remote village.
　The bar is like a converted barn, ugly female wages, bad food.
　The drink is lukewarm, like piss.
　If we leave this village, there is a straight road to Sylvania, Count Caddo's territory.
　I'll have to drink this stuff when I have to stay sober for a while.
　I'm sick of it.
　When I was in Kinza, I could drink in better taverns.
　It felt good to be rubbed up against a woman, even if you knew she was just looking for money.
　It didn't feel bad to be flattened by the owner.
　Even the ragpickers that paraded through the streets cleared the way when they saw the white uniforms.
　It seems to have happened many years ago already.



　He spat and slammed his wooden mug down on the table.
　Everything had been bad since they retreated to the Imperial City.
　He was the target of ridicule for running away from the bandits without a fight.
　Even the women in the tavern at the end of the place made fun of me.
　I broke all my front teeth, but the memory of my humiliation has not faded.

''Well I was just following orders,''

　What would his fiancée think if she knew about this?
　I don't think he'll ever break off the engagement because of what happened to Elena, but he'll continue to look down on me for the rest of my life as a man who ran away without a fight against the bandits.
　I quickly reconsider, wondering if I should kill him.
　You can take credit for this battle and soak up the stigma.
　The woman's a fool and she'll take the credit for it if Philip takes the credit.
　That's not a bad idea.
　Philip shuddered as he imagined himself telling his fiancée the story of his heroism.
　At that moment, a few people who were drinking nearby stood up.
　They looked familiar, so he could tell they were his colleagues, but his name didn't come up.
　The co-workers were about to leave the restaurant when the owner stopped them.

'What?'
Sir, can I pay you for that?

　Hehehe," the owner smiles affectionately.
　What a rude man.
　They're going to go into battle and they're asking for money.

"All right.
Thank you.

　The owner of the store hounded him and fell down.
　His co-workers beat him up.
　It was natural.
　A commoner demanded money from a nobleman - and a member of the Kingsguard.
　While serving them this pissy drink.

"Is this enough?
Oh, visitors!
Get away from me!

　My colleague kicked the ugly wench who approached him.
　The ugly wench rolled on the ground, puking all over the place.

'Hey!　The owner of this restaurant served you drinks like piss and demanded money!　How can this be allowed to happen?
No, they shouldn't be allowed to!
Destroy the store!

　His co-workers in the store began to scream and lash out, mouthing off.
　They must have been stressed out.
　They overturned the table and smashed the liquor barrels.
　The owner stood up and tried to stop them, but this time he had to lick the ground.

'No, get your hands off me!'

　A high-pitched voice echoed through the store.
　I look up to see my co-worker about to bring the girl from the back of the store.
　The girl claws at her colleague's hand.

'You little shit!'

　The girl was blown up to the wall as her colleague punched her.
　There was a cry.

'Hey, Philip!'
What?
'You didn't buy the girl because you didn't want to shy away from your fiancé. This is your chance to clear your head.
Hold my hand.

　Philip stood up and spat out a burp.

'C'mon, you enjoy resisting me, don't you?
I don't want to get scratched.

　A thoughtful colleague held the girl's arms down.

'Forgive me, please forgive me.'
d*mn, he's just a kid.

　Philip looked at the girl, crying and begging for forgiveness, and spat.
　He looked down at the girl, feeling disgusted.
　This one didn't look like she needed to worry about getting sick, but her face was covered in sparrow spots and she was as thin as a chicken rattle.

'Well, let's just put up with it.'


*

　Lucas thought he heard a scream and woke up.
　It was inside the tent he had set up outside the village.
　The smell of something burning irritated his nostrils.
　It was a smell I had smelled many times in the past.

''No way...''

　With a bad feeling, Lucas jumped out of his tent.
　Then the village was on fire.
　The flames illuminated the barbarism that was unfolding in the village.
　Men in white military uniforms were killing villagers and raping women.
　Of all things, the Kingsguard was overrunning the village.

''Fools!　You people!

　Lucas shouted loudly.
　His chest throbbed, but he couldn't be bothered.

'What's wrong with you, Legionnaire?
Make it stop!
Why?

　Lucas shouted at the village, pointing at the village, but the deputy looked scowling.

'You need a distraction like that, don't you?
You're an idiot!　We attacked a territory that we declared indefensible.　I'm not going to prove to myself that I can't be trusted!　Go ahead and stop it!

　Lucas returned to his tent and sat down in a chair.
　He unfolded the parchment and began to write an apology.



　We were going to use this village as a backbone.
　They planned to use the village as a collection point for supplies, give it some money and leave the village women to do miscellaneous work.
　That was the plan.
　But it was all for naught because of their stupid men.
　Baron Trace would be reluctant to send out military provisions.
　He would not even allow us to use the neighboring villages to the south as our base of operations.
　Even if they would allow it, it would take a day to get to the next village and a day to get to Sylvania.
　The round trip would take four days to complete, and we would have a supply route.
　Lucas grabbed his quill and suddenly relaxed.
　He wanted to believe that evil would be judged by justice, but perhaps evil would be destroyed by its own evil.