Episode 88: Western Corps

　The Eastern Front Army had decided to advance into the Serodonia Kingdom.

　The nominal supreme commander was Vice Commander Almants, who had been appointed as acting commander.

　But the actual command authority rested in Siegvolt’s hands.

　Preparations for the advance were swiftly put in place, and departure was imminent.

(D-damn it… How did things end up like this…)

　Almants clutched his head.

　Just a day ago, he never dreamed he’d be caught up in a situation like this.

“S-Siegvolt!”

　Almants approached Siegvolt, who was directing the advance.

“Isn’t this going way too far with your arbitrary decisions!?”

“—I’ve already explained that matter to you, Vice Commander Almants.”

　Siegvolt responded with unwavering calm.

“My intention was only to lead my own unit into action. I bear some responsibility for Commander Bertram’s death as well. —If my return had been just a few hours earlier, the commander might not have died.”

(You’re lying!)

　Almants was shouting angrily in his mind.

　After all, weren’t you the one who killed Commander Bertram—? He wanted to yell that out loud.

　But with his weakness in Siegvolt’s grasp, he couldn’t do it.

　Siegvolt continued on nonchalantly, as if seeing right through his anxiety.

“Even for me, the soldiers getting that fired up was—honestly, beyond my expectations. Now that it’s come to this, there’s no choice left but to advance.”

“B-but… It doesn’t have to be right now…”

　Almants wanted to buy time, no matter what.

　If he could just get some time, there might still be room to devise a plan.

　But Siegvolt’s words were merciless.

“If we hesitate here, the feverish soldiers will start moving on their own. Units will ignore orders and charge into the Serodonia forces without permission. If that happens, the army will lose all control. In that case—it’s better to harness this momentum and fight now.”

“Guh…”

“—Perfect timing. While we were talking, it seems the preparations for the advance are complete. Well then… shall we set out?”

 

◇

 

　Just as Siegvolt and his forces called themselves the “Kirchhen Kingdom Eastern Front Army,” the forces on the Serodonia side had an official name as well.

　Namely, the “Serodonia Kingdom Western Corps.” Their total numbers were around 20,000.

　At the encampment of this Serodonia Kingdom Western Corps—.

“Ahh… This is such a drag.”

　The one who muttered that was a soldier standing atop a watchtower built on the outer edge of the encampment.

“There’s no way a real war’s gonna break out anyway. Keeping watch like this is pointless. Damn, I could go for a drink right now…”

“Yeah, seriously. If I were off duty, I’d be heading into the town in the rear for a few rounds.”

　The other soldier standing beside him replied.

　To them, keeping watch was nothing more than a waste of time. After all, there was no way the enemy would seriously attack.

　The occasional skirmishes were just for show, if you thought about it.

　Once or twice a year, a few scouts would come out and fire arrows at the enemy camp from a distance where they couldn’t possibly hit.

　Naturally, they didn’t hit anyone—and there was no intention to hit anyone.

　It was just a performance to demonstrate combat.

　A charade to report back to their own king: “There was combat with the enemy forces.” “We are fulfilling our duties.”

　With such farces continuing, no one would ever think a real war could break out.

“…Hm?”

　Suddenly, one of the watch soldiers narrowed his eyes and looked into the distance.

“What’s up?”

“No… There’s smoke signals rising from Forssa Fort…”

“What?”

　Forssa Fort. A small military outpost established to monitor enemy movements.

　Several columns of smoke were drifting into the sky above it.

　It was the signal for an approaching enemy army.

“H-how many enemies…?”

　The color and number of the smoke signals carried meaning, allowing them to convey the scale of the enemy forces.

　The watch soldier hurriedly strained his eyes.

“The number is… t-ten thousand!?”

　Indeed, the smoke signals raised in the sky indicated “enemy army of 10,000.”

　But such a large force mobilizing had never happened before.

“N-no way… It must be some mistake.”

　The very next moment after he muttered that.

　From beyond the undulating hills that stretched toward them, hemmed in by mountains on either side, a horde of soldiers appeared.

“Ugh…!”

　The watch soldiers exchanged glances and immediately ran to the bell.

　The large bell mounted on the tower rang out clamorously across the encampment.

“Enemies! The enemy army’s here! Their numbers—ten thousand!!”

 

◇

 

　The encampment of the Serodonia Kingdom Western Corps. In one corner of it stood a tower that could be described as a small castle.

　This tower was the heart of the Western Corps—the command headquarters.

　In one room of the tower, surrounded by luxurious furnishings adorned with gold workmanship, a man was quietly reclining in a chair.

　He appeared to be in his thirties. Blond hair, a cleft chin, thick eyelashes, full lips.

　A man with a flashy appearance that one would never forget once seen—his name was Volfirio Borbon de Serodonia.

　The second prince of the Serodonia King. And the commander leading this Western Corps.

“Hmm… How shall I distract myself from this boredom today?”

　Volfirio popped one of the high-end sweets arranged on the table into his mouth.

　Luxuries that common folk could never taste in a lifetime. But even their flavor couldn’t wipe away his melancholy.

“Life here is utterly dull. No balls, no theaters. Just sweaty, smelly men everywhere… Completely lacking in refinement.”

　He let out a deep sigh and gazed up at the ceiling.

“…That said, it’s just a little more patience.”

　Volfirio was Bertram’s partner in the smuggling trade.

　Through those dealings, he had amassed enormous wealth.

　Normally, as royalty, he shouldn’t have needed to accumulate wealth through smuggling.

　His position guaranteed a life of luxury from birth.

　But—Volfirio had a clear reason for seeking riches.

　It was to prepare for the throne succession struggle that would eventually come.

　His father, the current king, had been suffering from poor health in recent years due to long-term excesses.

　The day the king passed away, leaving the throne vacant, wasn’t far off.

　And when the king died—the next king would be succeeded by a prince.

　Volfirio had one older brother, who was seen as the legitimate heir.

　But—Volfirio had a secret plan.

　He intended to use the vast wealth from smuggling to buy off the nobles, forcibly drawing their support to himself and inheriting the throne.

　As long as he could get most of the nobles on his side, he could come up with any number of justifications for his succession afterward.

“Mufufu… King Volfirio, huh…”

　Just imagining it made the corners of his mouth curl up.

　Thinking of that future made even the boring life on the front lines bearable.

　But—cutting into such fantasies, a voice rang out.

“Prince Volfirio!”

　From outside the door, a clamorous shout calling his name.

“—What is it? So noisy. Even if you’re a soldier, that doesn’t excuse such crude behavior, you know? A bit more—”

　In the midst of his scolding, the soldier’s desperate voice cut him off.

“Enemy attack!”

“Enemy…?”

“The Kirchhen Kingdom army—has launched a large-scale invasion against our forces!”