Chapter 49

I looked at the map. Beyond the hills is a fortified city. Further behind that is the Royal Capital. Through the forest is a trading post. It was once in the hands of the great power. Now, the flag of the enemy country stands there.

I asked.

“Why now?”

The Vice Knight Commander slid his finger over the map.

“The enemy country raised its logistics tax.”

He stopped his finger at the trading post.

“The merchants are screaming, voices cursing the Royal Family are rising in the city squares, and the nobles are mounting their dissatisfaction toward the King.”

“What happens if we take this hill?”

The Vice Knight Commander tapped the hill on the map with his finger.

“The movements of the fortified city will dull.”

“Is that all?”

“No. If the fortified city is plugged up, the Royal Capital behind it cannot move either. Both soldiers and supplies pass through this road.”

“Then the political instability is…”

“An excellent opportunity,”

The Vice Knight Commander said.

“However, the Count of the enemy country is not to be made light of. He is wily.”

“His son?”

“He has one legitimate son. I hear he excels in martial valor and has a hasty nature.”

“I heard he favors the forest.”

“Yes. This time as well, he may be leading troops in ambush.”

I did not look up from the map.

“The father is schemes. The son is the blade, huh.”

I fell silent.

The enemy is strangling themselves with their own taxes. If we push, they will collapse, he says.

Is that war? Or is it merely thrusting a blade into the friction of another country?

Taking the hill is advantageous. But taking the hill is not the objective. Is it taking back the trading post?

I looked down at the map.

A crumbling equilibrium. In that case, we must make this the opportunity to end it.

“Prepare.”

I commanded thus.

---

However, we were not the ones who fired the starting gun of the war. There was a skirmish at the front edge of the forest. The enemy’s patrol allegedly accused our firewood-gathering unit of crossing the border. We, conversely, claimed that the enemy’s scouts stepped over the border.

A single arrow was loosed.

No one knows anymore which came first. But that single arrow was enough.

The enemy screamed “Invasion,” and we hoisted the banner of “Return Fire.” The stalemate was broken.

The glaring contest on the hills turned into a battle.

For this mission, the royal command was “Disrupt.” Just that.

The enemy’s supply line surrounded by forest. Ambushers are definitely lurking. If we step deep inside with this number of troops, we’ll just burn the supplies and that will be the end of it.

—Is that acceptable?

First, I ordered them to search for a shallow. A point where the river width narrows. A place where the current slows.

The river crossing point the enemy would be most vigilant of.

The Vice Knight Commander said.

“Please wait. That is dangerous.”

Naturally. If the enemy is lying in ambush, it’s there.

However, I did not answer. I was looking not at the forest on the opposite bank, but at the terrain even further beyond—the terrain that would lead to the trading post.

During the preliminary inspection, I intentionally had us detour. Avoiding the wetlands, heading toward a high ground where the bedrock was exposed. Marc brought his horse close.

“Your Highness, why such a detour? If we are to strike the supply line, we should pass through the forest by the shortest route.”

I dropped my gaze to the ground and checked the soil quality.

“…The drainage is good.”

“Pardon?”

“If we are to build a bridge, it is a hundred paces downstream from here.”

Marc fell silent.

…It is wartime right now. We are not building a bridge in this place. Why is he saying that?

I issued instructions to have a temporary bridge built in the front. And to have the main force wait nearby.

It’s bait to drag out the ambushers lurking in the forest.

The enemy will be frightened. Even if not frightened, they will be pinned down.

During that time, under the cover of darkness, a separate unit crossing the shallow and passing through the forest will link up with our allies isolated on the opposite bank.

There is no turning back. The plan is to charge straight for the supply depot with the combined forces.

The Vice Knight Commander furrowed his brow.

“The royal command is disruption only. Going deep is dangerous.”

“Do not ask for the reason. Just do not retreat.”

…To end this war, disruption is not enough. I will break the enemy’s very hope for a prolonged war.

---

Soldier’s Perspective

The river water was up to my knees. The sound was scarier than the cold.

The sound of rubbing armor. The sound of stepping on stones. The sound of splashing water.

No one spoke. I walked looking only at the back of the soldier going in front of me.

I heard it was a shallow. But a river at night feels deep even if it’s shallow.

From beyond the forest, the sound of mallets could be heard. It’s the sound of building a bridge. Angry roars can also be heard occasionally.

The main force must be in front of the bridge.

The enemy should be there too.

That’s why we are crossing here. However, there was only one order.

—Do not make a sound.

Once we went up the bank, it was immediately a forest. The smell of damp earth was thick. The soldier at the front raised his hand.

Everyone stopped. In the darkness, a shadow moved.

The moment I placed my hand on my sword, a low voice spoke.

“Halt. We’re allies.”

Soldiers appeared. It was armor covered in mud.

“You came, huh.”

That face was exhausted, but smiling.

“It’s the isolated unit.”

Someone let out a small breath. From the direction of the bridge, a horn could be heard. A short, sharp sound.

“They’re pinned down.”

The isolated soldier said.

“Now’s our chance.”

The captain commanded shortly.

“Advance.”

“To where?”

Someone asked in a small voice.

“The supply depot.”

The mud-covered soldier pointed deep into the forest.

“…It’s half a koku from here.”

I looked in that direction. Beyond the dark forest.

In the direction of the bridge, the commotion is still continuing.

With that sound at our backs, we advanced through the forest.

As we advanced through the forest, the smell suddenly changed.

Smoke. It’s mixed with the smell of hay, oil, and horses.

The supply depot is close. The captain raised his hand. Everyone crouched.

Through the gaps in the trees, a light could be seen. A bonfire.

A few soldiers around it. Voices of laughter could be heard.

They were faces that didn’t think a battle would happen.

The mud-covered soldier—one of the guys who just linked up with us—spoke in a small voice.

“Three lookouts.”

He pointed to them in order with his finger.

“The bonfire. The carts. In front of the warehouse.”

The captain nodded.

“We do it quietly.”

The sound of drawing swords sounded terribly loud.

The signal was a stone. The captain threw a stone.

It hit a cart with a clack. The lookout turned around. It was that moment.

“Now.”

Someone ran. I ran too.

The sound of trampling grass. The sound of clashing armor. The lookout started to shout.

But he was too slow. The soldier next to me thrust with his spear. The man fell into the bonfire. Sparks scattered.

“Enemy attack!”

A voice rose. From inside the opening doors of the warehouse, soldiers jumped out. An arrow came flying. Someone fell. The captain roared.

“Secure the warehouse!”

We ran to the warehouse. An enemy soldier swung his sword down. I blocked it. My arm went numb.

From the side, an ally’s spear thrust out. The enemy collapsed.

It became a shoving match in front of the warehouse.

The doors were about to close.

“Don’t let them close!”

The mud-covered soldier tackled it. The doors burst open.

Inside was dark. But I understood immediately.

Sacks.

Mountains of sacks. Grain. Oil barrels. Wine. Bundles of arrows.

“It’s the supply depot.”

Someone gasped. Outside, the sound of swords was still ringing. But it didn’t last long.

After a while, a horn sounded.

A short sound.

An ally’s signal. The battle was over.

When we returned, the bonfire remained.

Smoke was rising into the sky. The direction of the bridge was quiet.

The captain said.

“Do not set fire to it.”

The soldiers looked at each other. Normally, you burn it. Supply depots are meant to be burned. But the order was different.

“Seal it off.”

During the night, we lined up carts around the warehouse and made a makeshift fence. Scouts also went out into the forest.

Since we took it, we must defend it.

The mud-covered soldier laughed.

“The enemy will starve tomorrow, won’t they.”

Someone said. But the captain shook his head.

“No. It’s not to starve them.”

And he looked up at the warehouse.

“This is already our supply depot now.”

Listening to those words, I looked in the direction of the river. That commotion at the bridge, all of it—might have been a decoy.

Someone said in a small voice.

“…If so, who thought of this scheme?”

The mud-covered soldier shrugged.

“Who knows. We wouldn’t know.”

From beyond the bonfire, an older soldier muttered.

“Seems to be a guest general who came from the neighboring country.”

“A guest general?”

“His name was… Leonhart, I think they said.”

Someone whistled.

“There’s talk he’s a prince too.”

I looked toward the river one more time.

Beyond the darkness, the sound of mallets at the bridge was still echoing.

---

There was a signal from the horn. The supply base fell in a few hours. We won’t set fire to it. If we burn it, it ends.

…My desire is not scorched earth. If we burn it, the enemy starves. But starvation nurtures hatred.

What I desire is not the ruin of the enemy. It is to take away the reason for a long-lasting war. To connect a path of sharing, rather than taking away supplies.

That night, Marc spoke.

“Your Highness, may I ask you one thing?”

I raised my gaze.

“Speak.”

“Why did you verify that place?”

I did not answer for a while.

“…It is not for the war.”

Marc furrowed his brow.

“Then, for what purpose?”

I directed my eyes toward the direction of the river.

“Eventually, the war will end.”

I said quietly.

“At that time, someone to build a bridge over the river will be needed.”

Marc fell silent.

“Also a path passing through the forest to reach the trading post by the shortest route.”

The bonfire crackled.

“It is not to sever supply lines.”

I continued.

“It is a road to cross borders and let people and goods flow.”

Marc said nothing for a while.

Eventually, he let out a small breath.

“…That is a thought very like Your Highness.”

Marc looked at the river.

“A road for after the war ends, is it?”

I did not answer.

Only the sound of the river continued quietly in the night.