Vol 11 Chapter 6 (1/2)

Chapter 6

Part 1

The Zongan port town Washmeel was famous for its large red-light district.

Before the sun had even finished setting, prost.i.tutes from every corner of the world beckoned to the rough sailors who had equally come from all over. Gambling was also prominent, and even when the sun was still high in the sky, shouts of glee and screams of anguish alike rose from the streets leading to that neighbourhood, as the joys and sorrows of winning and losing unfolded.

The s.h.i.+ps carrying Prince Kaseria Jamil of Allion and his two thousand soldiers had docked at the port more than two weeks ago.

Kaseria had granted the soldiers a moderate respite, and they were making the most of Washmeel’s nightlife. Neither women nor gambling were forbidden to them. They spent money steadily and there was a general opinion that they needed to make the most of Zonga.

Kaseria himself hardly left the s.h.i.+p. He was known to be a womaniser, but he almost never slept with prost.i.tutes.

My tool isn't made to be used with money – he openly declared with a roar of laughter.

Day after day, he stretched himself out on the s.h.i.+p’s deck, or would be in his room, also lying down. His att.i.tude was not at all that of a commander leading a large army to war.

One night, Lance Mazpotter was on his way to pay a call to the prince’s private cabin. Just as he was about to set foot on the pier, a voice called out to him from the shadows to one side.

“Sir Lance.”

It was the Endean prince, Jeremie Amon Doria. However, if someone who had known him in the past, when he was praised in Safia for being the very epitome of an Endean aristocrat, were to see him now, they might well conclude that, although there was a certain resemblance, this must be a different person. That was how much Jeremie’s appearance had changed.

Once upon a time, when he rose in the morning, he would take his time arranging his hair with the help of his underlings, but now, it was utterly dishevelled. He, who had once been recognised as a leader of fas.h.i.+on in Safia, did not have a single accessory adorning him; his clothes, which he had not changed in many days, were slightly grubby and were giving off an unpleasant smell. But more than anything, it was his eyes. Those slender, almond-shaped and ever detached eyes had been famed for br.i.m.m.i.n.g with a brilliance innate to those of n.o.ble birth, and had once captivated countless men and women, yet now, they were now dull and listless.

“Greetings, Prince. Ah, no, Your Excellency the future Grand Duke of Ende.”

Lance gave a bow, but Jeremie looked as though he could not bear to waste time on greetings.

“Sir Lance, what’s the situation? Militarily, I mean. How has Ende reacted? What kind of moves is Eric making?” He enquired breathlessly.

Lance lips were curved into a gentle smile.

“But these various matters should already have been communicated to you, Lord Jeremie.”

“I-I know. However, that was already five days ago. I want to know what the situation is now. B-Besides, this stay in Zonga is dragging on. When will Allion’s forces start moving? At this rate, aren’t you just needlessly granting that d.a.m.ned Eric a reprieve?.”

“As to that, there are many things that someone in a position as lowly as mine cannot understand. His Highness Kaseria keeps it all safely in his own mind. Ah, but speaking of which, there is a council of war scheduled for tomorrow evening. I am sure that you, Lord Jeremie, will also be called to attend.”

Lance bowed once again then, after winking to the soldiers on the pier who were standing on guard on either side of the flags.h.i.+p, he made his way on board. Behind him, Jeremie was calling something out, but the soldiers blocked his way. His voice gradually faded in th

e distance.

Bah. Shrugging his shoulders which were lightly clad in armour, the veteran warrior from Atall pulled a face. A pathetic wretch.

Even though he had been the one to invite Allion to the centre of the continent, Jeremie had already been pushed to the side. Simply because he could not accept being pa.s.sed over as the next successor, and instead wished to forcefully overturn this reality, he had appealed for Allion’s a.s.sistance, failing to take into account the risk of his own country being annexed by such a powerful kingdom's military.

Although he could be said to be the man who had given it just cause for its invasion, Allion no longer had any use for him. Afterwards, he would, at best, be kept on as a figurehead. According to what he had heard, Jeremie, either because he was growing more impatient by the day or to repress his feelings of guilt, spent his entire time abusing black water lily powder.

That Eric, his younger brother, was effectively the ruler of Ende was a reality that he seemed unable to allow to continue for even a single moment longer, which was why he occasionally came to see Kaseria and Lance like this. It was unclear though how much longer his spirit would last.

Whether asleep or awake, he’s just dreaming.

A smile once again crossed Lance Mazpotter’s deeply chiselled face, then he suddenly stopped dead, and, exactly as though he was looking for a.s.sa.s.sins prowling in the shadows, his healthy right eye sharply darted left and right.

I haven’t seen that sorcerer recently.

Jeremie had not fled alone from Ende: his attendant sorcerer Hezel had definitely travelled with him. At first, he could be seen following Jeremie like a shadow but, these past few days, the young sorcerer had suddenly vanished.

Not being from Allion, Lance Mazpotter felt that sorcerers were uncanny and loathsome beings.

The sort to hide lurking somewhere… Well, whatever. The plots of one lone sorcerous vermin won’t change the course of fate at this point.

There were also several sorcerers accompanying the prince’s troops. So if, for example, he was planning on causing harm by killing the prince and removing the army’s central figure, they would be able to stop him beforehand. Thinking that, Lance forgot about Hezel for now. Instead, he continued forward.

“You here?” He asked, and pushed open the door without waiting for an answer.

From inside the room came a woman’s scream. Her suntanned back was visible above the bed. Next to her, and almost as though in contrast to her, was a young man with white skin who was smoking a narrow, silver-tipped pipe[1].

“That you, Lance? You’re as uncouth as ever.”

“Who knows when and where the enemy might strike. Say that I’d been an a.s.sa.s.sin, what would you have done, O Heir to the throne of Allion?”

“First, I would’ve used the woman as a s.h.i.+eld, then, I would’ve turned the tables on you.”

While the woman hurriedly getting dressed in the partial concealment offered by the bed seemed startled at his words, Kaseria raised the sword that had been left nearby. It was unsheathed.

Before long, the woman silently slunk off.

“If I’m not mistaken, that was…”

“Count Washmeel’s youngest daughter. He holds jurisdiction over this port.”

Ah, nodded Lance. Since she had a level-headed personality despite being young, he had thought upon first meeting her that – she’s exactly the sort Kaseria likes.

“It’ll be something if her father finds out. As if it wasn’t enough that Zonga is acting as though they’re being made to swallow a humiliation over this whole affair.”

“She’s not the sort to go telling tales. She’s a woman who can deal with the consequences of having offered up her own a.s.s.”

“Oh? I thought I’d taught you most of what there is to know about women.” Lance closed his single eye for a second. “Unlike with swords and war, you can’t rely on previous experience. Never think that just because you’ve known another woman with a similar personality in the past that things are going to go the same way every time.”

“I’ll bear it in mind. More importantly,” Kaseria had been yawning but now his eyes suddenly shone brightly, “have you released the ‘dogs’?”

“Yeah. They’ve checked up to the forest. They should reach Dairan five days from now.”

Lance opened the cabin window as he was giving his answer. Kaseria was smoking black water lily powder, and Lance hated having the strangely slimy smoke coiling around him.

“Good, finally. Ende’s little lord should come flying as soon as we bait him. And then, we just need to crush them in one go.”

“That would be great, but…”

“What?” As soon as he heard that, Kaseria, still in bed, looked displeased. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it? Don’t act all mysterious and just tell me.”

“Yeah, there’s some bad news. Garbera seems to be taking action.”

“Garbera?”

According to information that Lance Mazpotter had recently received, it appeared that the Kingdom of Garbera, which lay south of Ende, was sending a troop of more than two thousand in reinforcement. Kaseria irritably raised his arms overhead.

“Weren’t Garbera and Ende supposed to have only just crossed spears? That d.a.m.ned Jeremie was speaking nonsense.”

When they had alighted at the Zongan port, they had naturally met with Jeremie, the one responsible for ushering them into the centre of the continent. According to what he had said –

“Mephius is in the middle of a civil war that has split the country in two, and it’s also embroiled in a silent feud with Garbera over the treatment given to the princess who was sent there to get married. On top of that, Eric recently invaded Garberan territory. Since Ende has not concluded any alliances with foreign countries in a long time, it is now virtually isolated and helpless.”

“Garbera is a country of knights… was that it? So it should prize righteousness. Just like you, its chivalrous spirit must have been stirred at the thought of defending the descendants of the Magic Dynasty,” Lance suggested sarcastically.

Lance had, from the start, been unenthusiastic about this war and, above all, he had strongly objected when he heard about the plan to send a second troop overland. Spreading out between Allion and Ende was a mountainous area through part of which stretched the country of Ryalide. He had been opposed to coercively sending their forces through it.

“We shouldn’t provoke Ryalide with that kind of manoeuvre.”

“What can a small country like Ryalide do? You were there last year when I met its king, weren’t you? That pig is just a coward who only thinks of his own safety,” Kaseria laughed.

“Don’t underestimate him. When the path of escape is cut off, even a coward will bare his fangs. If Garbera joins in and it looks like we’re having a hard time during the first battle, Ryalide might send its troops from behind.”

“And that wouldn’t matter. It’s fine if the second wave of troops attracts plenty of enemy attention. That’s why I had Sir Phard, my ever-lovable older half-brother, put in charge of them. Even without being told, that hothead is guaranteed to raise some eye-catching sparks.”

Perhaps tired of lying down, Kaseria sprang to his feet, the sword still in his hand. He swung it horizontally, as though to decapitate an invisible enemy.

“Even I don’t expect to overrun the whole of Ende with this war, you know. But, if we use the right bait, then in a week’s time, we might be toasting the freshly severed head of the Lord-next-Grand-Duke-of-Ende in this very cabin,” so saying, he roared with laughter.

Humph, Lance’s expression seemed to be mocking a young novice’s shallow cleverness, but as a matter of fact, the sword play that he was now demonstrating beneath his eyes surpa.s.sed that of any soldier from within the country or outside of it that Lance could compare him to.

To think that he would become this good a swordsman – Lance reflected anew.

After his home country had been destroyed by Allion, Lance was employed by its king at the royal palace. He was to become a tutor, or, more specifically, an instructor in swordsmans.h.i.+p, to Kaseria, who was then thirteen-years-old.

Lance had made clear his dissatisfaction. At thirteen, one should already have the physical basics. From what he had heard, however, Kaseria had been a premature baby and, when he was born, he had hovered between life and death. The King of Allion had sent east and west for countless skilled doctors so that his son might somehow live. It was said that he had even borrowed the help of sorcerers. That he had strived so hard towards prolonging his son’s life was, of course, out of love for his own child but, more importantly, it was also because the death in infancy of a first-born child was considered an evil omen in Allion.

Perhaps because of that history, both of his parents had spoiled Kaseria rotten. If there was something that displeased him even a little, Kaseria would bawl and cry, or, half in jest, he would blame the retainers for something or another and would ask his father, the king, to have them executed.

I have to teach the sword to that brat?

Just because the instructor was a skilled swordsman, it did not mean that the student would learn to be any good. To make matters worse, the other party was a boy with an atrocious personality who had never even held a sword up until then.

However –

Now, nine years later, Kaseria was one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom. It was not out of sycophancy or deference to the heir to the throne that so many noted fencers had dropped to their knees after receiving one of his blows in the palace’s training grounds. Despite his youth, his feats on the battlefield were among the most noteworthy; this too was not because he squeezed his strategists and his subordinates dry of their intelligence and strength while he advanced at a leisurely pace, grabbing all achievements for himself. No matter how difficult the battle, he was always in the vanguard, his entire body covered in his opponents’ blood, pressing forward to slaughter more and more enemies.

It’ll be the same thing this time – thought Lance, not expecting any unforeseen events as he admonished Kaseria in his usual way.

Even though Eric Le Doria had been waiting impatiently for this news, he could not help doubting his ears for a second.

Reinforcements of over a thousand were coming from Garbera. Moreover, it was said that Prince Zenon Owell would be leading them. It was not only Eric but a great many people in Ende who could not hide their surprise. They had felt the same when their young lord had requested aid from Garbera, but seeing it actually materialise was as unexpected for them as it was for Eric himself, even though he had been the one to actually suggest it.

Nevertheless, it was with an expression that seemed to say that this development was entirely natural, and with a somewhat proud backward glance at his astonished retainers, that Eric personally went to greet the Garberan troops in Safia and exchanged a firm handshake with their prince.

“It’s been a long time, Prince Zenon.”

“It has, Lord Eric. I am grateful to you for going out of your way to meet us. Still, I did not think that our reunion would come like this.”

“It brings back memories of that shadowy fort, doesn’t it?”

What Eric was alluding to was time when, right after battle had broken out near Zaim and, at Mephius’ suggestion, they had held a special three-way meeting in the fort within the Nouzen Mountains.

“If I remember right, it was raining, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Even though it was broad daylight, it was so dark that you couldn’t see the expression on someone else’s face even if you went right up next to them. Back then, it was myself, you, Prince Zenon, and the crown prince of Mephius.”

“Ah, that other gentleman. It seems that he has revived after being dead for a while.”

“I thought at the time that he was eccentric, but I would never have imagined it was to that extent.”

The two of them laughed discreetly.

While doing so and continuing their talk, both was thinking of the other – he’s changed.

At the time, they had been mutual enemies who would not have let the other leave the battlefield alive, so saying that they had “changed” was a matter of course. However, to take the example of Eric, he, who was perhaps not by nature an eloquent speaker, had at the time merely muttered a few short words; yet now he projected his voice as well as an att.i.tude of complete self-confidence. Zenon’s manner, meanwhile, had been as regal as it had been severe, with a look that seemed to say that only those who followed him without question were his allies, yet now, that harshness was removed and there was gentleness in his expression.

Whereupon –

“May we introduce ourselves?”

Moldorf’s large body came up to stand in line next to Zenon. Nilgif followed behind.

“We didn’t even stay three days in Garbera. Next stop by s.h.i.+p, and it’s the famous water capital, Safia. How long are we going to be here for? Well since we’re at it, don’t you feel like comparing all these countries’ liquor, Brother?”

“Why can’t you think before opening your mouth? People will start doubting whether Kadyne’s warriors have any manners,” his brother thundered.

Lord Eric’s eyes opened wide at the appearance and behaviour of the western warriors that he was seeing for the first time, and Zenon, who saw himself as he had been a few days earlier in that, let slip a chortle.

A small welcome party was held that evening. The next day, things turned into a council of war gathering the main army commanders.

In fact, however, Zenon and Eric had met late the previous evening, just the two of them. As the two overall commanders, there were intending to decide on their tactical course of action before the council, which was sure to become a tangled mess of patriotic zeal.

Taking only these two into account, their mutual hatred and enmity had already faded, but it could not be said that the same held true for the soldiers they were leading. As far as the Garberan soldiers were concerned, they could hold nothing but resentment towards Ende, which had come up with some false accusation and used it to invade their country. Meanwhile, the Endean soldiers held a deep-seated antipathy towards Garbera, which had one-sidedly discarded the secret alliance between the two countries.

“It’s unfortunate, but I can’t say for sure that having both our forces manoeuvre in the same area wouldn’t be dangerous.”

“I entirely agree with you,” Zenon nodded. “It might be best to act separately.”

The enemy was also broadly divided into two groups. There was Kaseria Jamil’s force, which was in Zonga, to the north, and which had yet to make a move. That one numbered two thousand. While the troops approaching Dairan via the overland route in the north of Ryalide, by way of the mountainous region known as the “cunning dragon’s spine”, were three or four thousand strong.

The end result was that Lord Eric’s three thousand Endean soldiers would be stationed in Dairan, while the two thousand troops from the combined forces of Prince Zenon and the west would take up position east of there and check the troops approaching by the overland route.

“Once the enemy sees Garbera’s flag, even they will probably hesitate. If the two armies remain at a stand-off for long enough, we will hopefully be able to turn Allion back with the minimum amount of damage.”

With the course of action decided, the council of war generally proceeded along the lines that the two of them had agreed upon.

Part 2

There was no movement, however.

It would soon be a month since Kaseria Jamil had dropped anchor at Zonga’s port.

Lord Eric had left Safia with a force of three thousand and had once more trod on Dairan’s soil, but when they still failed to make any move, what he felt was not so much impatience as suspicion.

It was the same for the eastern overland force. Perhaps they had received fresh orders from their prince, since far from hurrying their steps, they were remaining lodged in a village within the buffer zone between Ryalide and Ende.

It was a strange situation. As far as the enemy was concerned, taking so much time only meant that their opponents would be able to make their preparations while they themselves whittled away their money and provisions.

Or maybe…

Eric considered the possibility that because of Garbera’s sudden partic.i.p.ation, the enemy might have gotten cold feet and temporarily halted their military operation, and were now hesitating over whether to advance or to retreat.

It’d be great if they could retreat at this point.

He pondered whether he should send a messenger to Kaseria in Zonga. Something along the lines of: this whole thing was a plot of Jeremie’s alone and since it never had anything to do with Allion, let us for now return our swords to their sheathes.

That evening, Eric stopped by the Plutos mansion to consult with Kayness, who was like a second father to him. Kayness endorsed his plan, however –

“We cannot let down our guard. Kaseria is known to wage war with the ferocity of a raging fire, but in fact, he also excels at cunning. It’s probably because his adjutant, Lance Mazpotter, takes part in planning his operations.”

“Lance Mazpotter. I think I’ve heard that name…”

“The One-eyed Dragon of Atall. A great general who repelled three thousand of Allion’s troops with only a hundred of his own men.”

Kayness’ back was always ramrod straight and his words were few and plain, but each one of them had the weight of a blow that struck true. From back when Eric was a child, in his eyes, Kayness had always exemplified what it was to be a warrior – or rather, a man.

Belmor Plutos was also beside him. Being Kayness’ second son and close to Eric in age, the two were childhood friends who had worked hard together in their studies of academics and the military arts. He now stayed at Eric’s side in the position of a military officer under his direct command.

“However, from what I remember,” Belmor spoke up, “not so long ago, when we were working towards making a move on Garbera, there were overtures that came from Allion. And the sender was…”

“Yeah. Kaseria Jamil,” the lord of Ende nodded. When he had been fanning popular sentiment inside the country prior to invading Garbera, the one who had sent him a letter announcing we will lend you our help had been none other than Kaseria, the prince of Allion.

If he was not mistaken, it was around the same time that Allion had brought its eastern expedition to a close. Yet regardless of that, it – or rather, Kaseria Jamil – had already been on the hunt for the next scene of bloodshed. From that time onwards, Kaseria had probably been looking for an opportunity to move his armies from the east to the west, and towards the centre of the continent.

Although Eric did not go back on his decision to send a messenger, he abandoned the sweet hope that things could end with that.

And if it did… He did not think that Kaseria would pull back his troops so easily. It was possible that he might be staying so long in Zonga because he had asked his country for reinforcements and was currently waiting for them.

The more he learned about the man called Kaseria Jamil, the more certain he became.

He’s like a beast who has acquired a taste for flesh. A beast whose mother’s milk wasn’t enough so it tore into the flesh brought back from the hunt and learned the joy of drinking the prey’s blood.

Although Eric was by no means someone who disliked war, he could not repress a shudder.

That evening, very little alcohol flowed.

Eric did not return to the camp and instead stayed to sleep at the Plutos mansion, but late that night –

“What is it?” He shouted, leaping to his feet with the alertness that came from being battle-ready during a war, then tensing up. He got changed immediately and went out.

Led by Belmor, who was similarly armed and ready, he entered a building that was slightly apart from the Plutos residence.

In a low-ceilinged room, eight or so men were tied up and on their knees. Ten garrison guards surrounded them.

All of the men were covered in soil. Their faces, arms and legs bore traces of blows, and on some of them, blood was pouring from where their skin had split open.

“Scouts from Allion,” Belmor had explained along the way. “They were wearing Endean armour, so they might have been planning to slip in as spies. They tried to flee when the guards on patrol spotted them and challenged them to halt, but we soon caught them by sending out airs.h.i.+ps.”

The men were not in the least bit agitated upon seeing Prince Eric. Among them, there were some who must have resisted ferociously and who had been roughed up to such an extent that their faces had been knocked into a different shape, but they did not utter so much as a groan.

“Pretending to be sitting still while moving plenty below the surface,” Eric muttered. “Have them spit out everything they know about Allion’s side.”

“Nothing,” one of the scouts spoke up. Blood was dripping from his mouth which had lost several teeth. “We know nothing. Ordinary soldiers like is at the bottom of the heap could not possibly know anything about Allion’s secrets. You should kill us quickly, O youthful Grand Duke of Ende.”

“Your lives no longer belong to you,” Belmor threatened them expressionlessly. “It is no longer up to you what happens to even a single one of your fingers, or even a single drop of your blood.”

When he sang at banquets and suchlike, Belmor’s voice was cute in a way that did not match his bearded face, but when he spoke in a low voice like this, his face expressionless and shrouded in shadows, even Eric could not repress a shudder.

Even so, he felt no compa.s.sion for the scouts. This was war after all. You had to be prepared for what would happen if you were captured by the enemy.

“I’ll leave the rest to you.” Eric left the place. In remaining silent, he had given permission to use torture.

Early the next day, Eric was eating his breakfast at the Plutos mansion as though nothing had happened.

That morning, Thil and Reen, the daughters of Kayness’ eldest son, Darowkin, were also present. There was no talk about war.

“Lord Prince, how long will you be staying in Dairan for?” Reen, the younger of the sisters, asked. Eric used to spend most of the year there, so she felt lonely now that he was often away from home, she explained.

“You can’t say that he’s ‘away from home’, Reen,” her older sister Thil said reproachfully. “From now on, the Lord Prince will always be in Safia. It’ll be much rarer for him to be in Dairan like now.”

“That’s no fun.”

“You sound like you have no manners.”

“You know, Thil, I’ve said it before. You always pretend to be a grown-up in front of the adults.”

Reen looked so triumphant that Thil, teary-eyed once more, started to protest. It was then that Belmor arrived. Unsurprisingly, he had changed out of the clothes that he had been wearing late last night. He reached for his meal with hands from which the blood had recently been wiped.

Arranged on his low, personal table[2] before him were vegetables, a small portion of rice, and fish from the western lake. Ende’s n.o.bles mostly used chopsticks to eat, and Belmor praised Reen for how good she had become at holding hers.

Fearsome warrior though he was, he was also a good uncle to Thil and Reen, and the conversation flitted from one light-hearted topic to another. Belmor clearly found his nieces utterly adorable, beaming with joy when the two young sisters called him “Uncle” and looking less-than-reluctant when they pestered him to “sing another song for us”.

After breakfast, Eric and Belmor returned to camp.

They had managed to get some results. As Belmor spoke of that, the expression he wore seemed to belong to a completely different person from the one who had been at the Plutos mansion.

They had taken each of the eight to a separate location to continue their “questioning” but, at first, all of them had kept their mouths shut. As the “questioning” branched into various different forms, however, they had finally revealed something.

“Prince Kaseria will not take action for another seven days. He’s waiting for reinforcements from home.”

All eight of them.

Finding that suspicious, Belmor did not loosen his grip. It seemed to him that they might have been instructed to give false information if they were caught. One of them died but, just as dawn was approaching, two of them tremblingly started to talk.

According to them, Kaseria had already led the elite of his troops to the south of Zonga. Beyond the river to the southwest of Dairan which currently formed the national border, there was a forest within which there was an old fortress. It had belonged to a now ruined clan that had used it to fight against the many nomadic tribes in the area. Kaseria was currently lying concealed within that fortress and would soon have a detached advance along the coastline. The plan was for that large force to line up in a conspicuous battle formation, so as to give the impression that Kaseria himself was a part of it. When Ende’s army moved to intercept it, Kaseria and his troops at the fortress would strike at their flank…

“When we informed the remaining spies of that, it was obvious at a glance that they were agitated. Looks like it’s reliable.” As he made his report, Belmor could not conceal his excitement.

It was as though a harsh wind was striking against the Prince of Ende’s cheeks.

This is the best possible chance to defeat Kaseria. Eric was of course aware of that. Moreover, and just as he had feared, the scouts had hinted at the possibility of reinforcements. After having dealt with Eric’s intercepting troops, they would continue to advance south with an even larger army.

Right – Eric ordered that preparations to march be made in secret. While these were ongoing, they also sent out scouts of their own to cross the border and investigate the area around the forest. However, they could not afford to wait for these to return; the captured scouts did not, after all, know when Allion’s forces would start marching from Zonga.

So first, they needed to make their own move. It would be fine for them to advance and then later, when they met up with their scouts and received their reports, decide on their next course of action.

“Shall we send a messenger to Prince Zenon?” Belmor asked. Eric pondered for a moment then shook his head.

“We’ll just have to do so ‘after the fact’. For now, I want to avoid information leaks as much as possible.”

Eric’s words sounded plausible, but part of his reason was definitely because he was eager to first establish his own military achievements. Even so, that was not out of some shallow wish to be seen as a hero.

Eric would henceforth be carrying the weight of Ende on his young shoulders and among the retainers, there were many who still doubted his abilities. Thinking about the future, Eric absolutely needed a brilliant military record to his name.

It was after all Eric’s decisiveness which had earned him recognition as a successor from his father, who had then been on his deathbed.

Unfortunately however, Eric had yet to acquire any reliable aides or capable strategists to help him draw up plans.