Samobov opened the operations room door, guiding Noah inside.
The generals examining maps inside rose to greet him, immediately noticing his poor mood from his slightly furrowed brow.
Samobov glanced at Jeirutt, who wasn’t following, before closing the door. With the Ministry of Magic minister in an unusual state, it seemed the Imperial Guard intended to hold their own meeting before joining the operations room.
He cautiously asked:
“Prince Noah, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“…Lord Ian proposed that if the mages don’t safely return within a day, they’ll fight for Bariel’s mages rather than maintaining our alliance with Clifford.”
“What? So suddenly?”
“I tried to stall for time, thinking he hadn’t fully recovered from the side effects, but he was adamant. Is there still no response from the Burgos and Ruswena camps?”
Fighting for themselves on Clifford soil—the generals quickly grasped the meaning. Ian would disregard the slumbering fissure beneath Clifford’s land, the sacrifice of Clifford citizens, and the territory that would be destroyed.
The generals nodded in confusion.
“Yes. Ruswena’s side seems to be still setting up their camp. We were considering organizing more special units to check if we missed anything. The northeastern forest path, specifically. Contact is possible that way, but we’ve only been circling below since we weren’t sure if they knew about it.”
They had been watching for openings between Burgos and Ruswena. The problem was the lack of results.
Noah sat in the head seat and touched his forehead—a posture similar to Ian’s earlier. Samobov, feeling somewhat sorry for Noah, sat across from him and said:
“Your Highness, even His Majesty is extremely reluctant about conscription. The harvest season approaches, and if we miss it, everyone could starve this winter. Above all, with reinforcements coming from Bariel, I think it’s best to focus on persuading Lord Ian. Once the side effects fade, he’ll likely return to his previous position.”
Noah agreed. Hadn’t Ian been reciting the names of his missing subordinates? That would be difficult to bear even with a sound mind, but the mental magic’s side effects amplified it.
If they could buy time, something might be done, but the problem was the timeframe Ian had given—just one day. Could they simply pray the magic’s effects would wear off in that time?
Noah sighed deeply and ordered paper and pen.
“I’ll prepare a message. If there’s no movement from Burgos and Ruswena by dawn, we’ll attempt contact first.”
Whether they held mages as prisoners, their condition, and what might be exchanged for their return, among other things.
There could even be room to discuss ending the war. They had clearly seen the power of Ian and his mages. Recognizing the difference in military strength, compromise would not be a bad choice for them. Above all, this was a crucial moment when mages might turn their backs on Clifford.
Noah grimaced as he picked up the pen.
“I wish Mei were here.”
“Should we call for her?”
“No. Let her receive treatment.”
Noah hesitated briefly before shaking his head. It would be better to draft the message and have Ian review it, since it concerned him and his mages.
Realizing this, Samobov sighed deeply.
“Your Highness, I think we should seek His Majesty’s help. You saw Lord Ian’s behavior earlier. In my opinion, our relationship is already strained. With the strategic differences between us and Minister Tweller of the Imperial Defense Department, wouldn’t it be better to leave the decision to His Majesty?”
“My father entrusted this to me, and now I should entrust it back to him? What a splendid prince I would be.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Samobov, enough. Withdraw your words. Even if my father came now, nothing would change. So it’s better if I handle this at my level.”
The line between superior and subordinate had been clearly drawn. If Ian’s attitude and position remained unchanged even with the king’s intervention, it would only create more trouble.
“Besides, he’s not demanding conscription immediately. We still have a chance.”
As Noah said this, sounds came from outside. It was Captain Jeirutt entering the operations room with some subordinates.
Creak.
Jeirutt nodded in greeting to the prince and generals, introducing himself.
“Good evening. Allow me to formally introduce myself again. I am Jeirutt, one of the three captains of the Bariel Imperial Guard. Regardless of Lord Ian’s decision, we were ordered by Crown Prince Jin to ensure the Ministry of Magic’s safe return. We will cooperate with Clifford as much as possible, so please let us know if you need anything.”
“Ah, thank you.”
That’s at least fortunate. Several generals heartily offered handshakes, warmly welcoming him. Though not as magically powerful as the mages, weren’t they the elite of Bariel’s fighting forces? Since their duty was to protect the Emperor, each was worth at least a thousand men.
Jeirutt sat down and glanced around discreetly. Nothing particularly special about the interior. Noah followed his gaze questioningly.
“Did Lord Ian mention anything else to you before the Imperial Guard arrived, Your Highness?”
“Mention anything else?”
“About battle plans or future strategies, anything like that. As you can see, Lord Ian’s mental fatigue is severe, and we haven’t been properly briefed on these matters. So I’m asking if you know anything.”
Jeirutt subtly probed through Noah what Barsabe had reported. It wasn’t a lie, either. The Ian who woke up was certainly different from the one he knew—so different they couldn’t even converse.
Noah shrugged, looking puzzled.
“Not particularly. We executed all our discussed strategies and tactics in today’s battle. The unexpected actions of Ruswena’s mages were the exception.”
“I see. Then we only need to discuss future matters. I heard you’ve formed special units—how about assigning one of our people to each? Since they can detect magical energy, they would be very helpful in search and combat operations.”
“That would be greatly appreciated. It was a bit difficult for us to handle this alone within the day Ian gave us.”
“Please understand. And his rudeness earlier as well.”
“It happened while fighting for Clifford, so I don’t mind.”
In truth, he did mind. But it was obvious that showing unnecessary pride would only lead to more bloodshed from his people.
Just as Noah dipped his pen in ink to discuss the message’s content—
Knock knock.
“Imperial Defense Minister Maxim Tweller.”
“Come in.”
“Excuse me.”
As the old man entered, Jeirutt and Noah’s eyes sparkled with curiosity about what conversation had taken place. But Tweller merely shrugged as if nothing significant had happened and sat down across from them.
“It seems Lord Ian wanted to rest alone. Our conversation ended early, so I have nothing to report. It was all just personal curiosity.”
The Imperial Defense Department and the Imperial Guard—historically, the two departments were like spear and shield, oil and water. Until now, that is. But with Jin placing his own people in each, that relationship would gradually change.
Well aware of this, Tweller nodded to Jeirutt as if swearing there truly had been no significant conversation.
“So, what were you discussing?”
“Ah, we plan to assign magic swordsmen to the special units, and I’m drafting a message to send to Burgos and Ruswena. If there’s no news by dawn, we intend to make contact first, but the problem is—”
“The problem is that we must write without revealing Clifford’s position to the other side. Is that right?”
Tweller immediately grasped the issue. They couldn’t let the enemy know about the problems between Bariel and Clifford due to Ian’s magic side effects and various competing interests.
They needed to thoroughly hide this fact while discovering the status of prisoners and gaining the upper hand to facilitate exchanges and negotiations.
As Noah somewhat dazedly agreed, Tweller stroked his beard.
“Ah, just a moment. We’ve had a similar situation before.”
“Minister, are you referring to the Battle of Flüe? If I remember correctly, we failed to notice that the enemy alliance had collapsed. Though you seized the opportunity for victory, I recall rumors that you personally praised their eloquent message.”
“Yes, that’s right. The Battle of Flüe. The preamble went like this…”
They continued back and forth. Noah watched the conversation between these two experienced men from the middle. Though he wondered what was happening, he soon realized this was an opportunity and kindness he had no reason to refuse.
The two men were diligently fulfilling their roles while apologizing for Ian’s rudeness in a roundabout way. It gave insight into Ian’s standing in Bariel—clearly, he was closely connected to the current power players.
“Could I have paper and pen as well? I’ll write down what I remember.”
“Ah, yes, yes. Here you are.”
“First, we need to convey that the alliance remains strong. Of course, Clifford and Bariel are currently putting our heads together in this operations room, but we don’t know what tomorrow will bring with what Ian said. Rather than writing many detailed sentences, showing even one clear piece of evidence would be more effective.”
“Yes. For example, send a Bariel person as the messenger, or use a Bariel-style binding method or case for the message.”
Noah eagerly recorded the two men’s advice. The generals rushed about, some looking for Bariel-style message containers, others instructing messengers to prepare Bariel attire. The commotion outside was clearly audible through the half-open door.
Clatter clatter!
Thud! Boom!
What’s all that noise? Noah frowned but couldn’t rise because Tweller’s advice kept flowing.
Just then, a servant appeared, looking flustered. Sweating profusely, he reported:
“Um, P-Prince Noah.”
“What is it? It’s noisy outside.”
“The meal—that is, to prepare all the food the mages have requested, we need to use fire. Would you permit it?”
“What do you mean?”
At night, considering exposure to the enemy, they kept minimal lighting and everyone remained silent in darkness. Despite the bright moonlight, this was still common sense and the rule for tonight.
The servant bowed his head again, sweating heavily.
“Please allow us to prepare meals. Otherwise, the mages say they’ll cook meat with m-magical energy.”
Tweller and Jeirutt exchanged surprised yet amused glances.
A meal? Though it seemed trivial, there could be no better green light. Appetite is a primal, instinctive desire. For such a desire to emerge in someone who was sinking—no matter how small—was like a definite will raising its head.
“…I would appreciate your permission, Your Highness.”
Tweller added with a gentle smile:
“We can’t waste the mages’ precious magical energy on cooking meat, can we?”
“Ah, well…”
“Actually, we served the remaining dinner earlier, but Sir Beric eats too much. He says his poor liver can’t keep up, whew.”
Jeirutt pretended not to hear the servant’s woeful expression. Everyone in the Imperial Palace must know about Beric’s appetite.
Noah looked around in confusion. Tweller and Jeirutt seemed to welcome this sudden request. Though he didn’t understand the full meaning, Noah also felt it wasn’t a bad request.
“Very well. Light the fires.”
“Thank you.”
“And—!”
“Yes?”
“Use g-good meat.”
“Ah, yes, yes. Understood.”
Clatter clatter!
Bang! Crash! Boom! Slam!
As the servant rushed out, more noise erupted. It was the sound of mages taking over the kitchen and hectoring the cooking staff.
Noah sat down with an incredulous expression, and Tweller tapped the edge of the paper to regain his attention.
“Your Highness, let’s continue drafting the message.”
“Ah, right.”
War, hardship, wounds, all those destructive things sometimes find solace in the most trivial matters. Based on his battlefield experience, Tweller was confident that the commotion would soon turn to laughter.
“Iaaaan!”
“…Oh my.”
“Aaaaargh! Don’t eat it! That’s mine, don’t eat it!”
“Shut up! Have you no shame, you lunatic?!”
“Iaaaan! Stop them! Hurry and stop them! Aaaaargh! I’ll kill you!”
Sure enough, as the area around the wall brightened, spirited screams and shouts could be heard. Though Ian’s voice wasn’t audible, he was surely in the midst of it all.
***
Meanwhile, at the same time.
Eripony, who had been watching the Clifford wall, lowered her telescope and muttered. Fires suddenly blazing at night? Inside the wall?
“What are those creatures up to?”
“…I’ll send mages to scout.”
At Eldert’s words, the queen nodded.
“The wall is noisy, so we should hurry too. Send a message to the King of Burgos to meet earlier than planned.”