Published at 13th of August 2019 1:25 pm

Volume 2, Chapter 1: After the Feast

This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml

Part 1

Later historians would say that in his life, Sovereign-Prince Magrid Attiel of Atall had greatly misread the situation on three occasions.

The first was seven years earlier.

Atall was a country with a long history. After the collapse of the Magic Dynasty which had united the world, the continent was engulfed in the torrents of chaos, and Atall was one of the countries which had been born as though it had come crawling out from those waves. But, turning one’s eyes to the west, the mighty Allion, a nation with an even longer history, and with a size more than several times that of Atall, had settled its massive bulk right next to the principality.

So as not to be crushed underfoot, Atall inevitably studied the mood of this large country on every occasion. It could even be said that the length of Atall’s history corresponded to the length of time that it had been sending envoys and tribute to Allion.

Southeast of Allion and to the west-northwest when looking from Atall, there was a kingdom called Shazarn. In terms of territory, it was slightly larger than Atall, but in terms of its financial power, it far exceeded Atall, thanks in part to its close relationship with the northern coastal countries, and the prosperous trade that went with it. It was said that when it came to the number of their guns – cannons and firearms – Shazarn could even hold its own against Allion, and so its surroundings whispered that it was ‘the Silent Ruler’.

There was an area where the borders of the three countries – Allion, Atall and Shazarn – met. Because of the nature of that region, skirmishes had broken out time and again, but, throughout the long years of history, it had served as something of a buffer zone between the three of them, and no matter how fiercely they glared at each other from across it, none of them forayed too deeply into it.

Then Shazarn suddenly built a fortress there. They hired groups of marauding soldiers – mercenaries who acted on a country’s orders but who frequently concealed or lied about where they were from or who their employers were – and repeatedly sent them to that area, to drive out the gangs of bandits and vagrant thieves who tried to settle there, or else to bring those men under their influence and borrow their help to construct the fortress. After which, Shazarn sent in regular soldiers one after another.

The general in charge of defending Allion’s northeast border was astounded by this, and he immediately flung open his castle gates and led an onslaught against the fortress. For Shazarn, this was completely unexpected. When undertaking military action that involved crossing the border, a commander should naturally first ask their king to make a decision, and Shazarn had judged that since Allion’s territory was vast, it would take time simply to send a message to the royal capital.

However, Allion’s king, who had been enthroned in his twenties, vigorously crushed any opposition through sheer might. From time immemorial, it has been said that retainers take their cue from their liege’s personality, and this border general too followed his king’s way of doing things.

If I carelessly let things slide, it’ll be too late afterwards – he decided for himself, so before anything else, he sent out messengers requesting reinforcements from the nearby forts and towns, while he himself set out with a party of five hundred soldiers to lead an assault.

Facing his manoeuvre, the fortress took hurried action. They naturally sent messengers to their own country, Shazarn, but they also requested reinforcements from Atall, which was closer to their location than Shazarn was. Atall had long had good relations with Shazarn, and had, from the start, taken part in building the fortress. In those days, Allion was active in expanding its territory, and the cooperation between the two countries stemmed in part from the fear of not knowing when Allion might extend its reach eastwards. In fact, it could well be said that the king of Allion’s towering ambitions had caused Shazarn’s apparently abrupt actions.

From Atall’s point of view, rather than having a border in direct contact with such a dangerous military force, it would be preferable to have the ‘Silent Ruler’ become a wall for them. Sovereign-Prince Magrid immediately assembled more than five hundred of his troops and sent them to the fortress.

In that, however, he had misread the situation.

At the time, in Shazarn, the king had begun to hint that he was thinking of abdicating. A fight for the throne was secretly being fought between the two princes and the king’s younger brother. Building a fortress in the neutral zone at the border was the sole decision of one of the young princes, who was trying to get a step ahead in that struggle, and it had never been the king of Shazarn’s wish.

Moreover, that young prince had apparently naively believed that:

“We won’t be attacking any of Allion’s keeps, so you can’t say that we’re seizing a part of their territory. Allion is currently filled with enemies inside the country, without even mentioning those outside of it. They won’t go all-out for something like us building a single fort.”

On top of that, the bold general who had launched an assault against the fortress suffered because of that same boldness. He repeatedly assailed the fort, but the reinforcements from Atall attacked him from behind and he died in battle.

Worse was yet to come.

Those at the fortress were drunk on their victory. Setting aside the regular soldiers, the prince of Shazarn did not have the makings of a commander capable of harmoniously uniting this group of bandits and marauders, as well as the reinforcements from Atall. Quite the opposite; the prince rode on the wave of momentum and personally led an invasion into the deceased general’s territory. Villages were looted at the hands of savage soldiers, and even the castle town was set ablaze.

The king of Allion was enraged. At the time, he had been in the region of the southwestern Kilawoo Mountains, engaged in a standoff against a rebellious territory, so he plucked a thousand men from his camp there and, for five days, almost without pause, he rode hard towards the north. On the sixth day, after riding for part of it, he swooped down on those invading his territory.

No matter how well-maintained Allion’s highways might be, that speed was extraordinary. And it too came down to the fact that Allion’s vigorous and resilient king was in command. Lacking experience because of his youth, the prince of Shazarn was no match for him. Forced further and further back as the king of Allion pressed forward, he might have been expected to barricade himself in the fortress, but, contrary to all expectations, he passed straight by it, and before anyone had time to realise what was happening, he had already holed himself up in his own country’s territory.

Once Shazarn’s soldiers had withdrawn, the only ones left were the bandits, the marauders and the troops from Atall. Naturally, they fled too. The fortress that Shazarn had built burned to the ground in no time at all.

After that, negotiations were conducted between Allion, Shazarn and Atall. The territory that had once been the neutral zone between borders was given to Claude Anglatt, a general from Allion who had distinguished himself during the war, with the result that Shazarn’s border was pushed to the north, while Atall was forced to send its second prince, Leo Attiel, as a hostage to Allion.

That was the first occasion on which Sovereign-Prince Magrid had misread the situation.

Seven years had passed since the war. For a time, the relationship between Allion and Atall seemed to have reverted to calm, but then a change occurred. Relations worsened between Conscon Temple, which was situated within the neutral zone, and Allion, which had once funded the temple and promoted its reconstruction.

In response to the temple’s request, Magrid Attiel sent reinforcements. Although they did not take part from the start, unlike the time with Shazarn, the situation was very similar.

Tensions sprang up again between Atall and Allion. On Allion’s side, they dispatched an envoy to find out what Atall’s real intentions were. Sovereign-Prince Magrid was hard-pressed to give an answer, but judging from Hayden, the envoy’s, attitude, he guessed that Allion was not planning on immediately sending troops, and it seemed that they had just barely managed to maintain a semblance of friendly relations.

Additionally, an unexpected but happy situation occurred.

It concerned Lord Leo Attiel, who had been sent to Allion as a hostage. Although given that he had escaped from Allion, the prince might potentially have become a new source of conflict with them, he now announced that he had pledged his future with Florrie, the daughter of General Anglatt, in whose custody he had been placed. It was at a banquet at which Hayden had been the guest of honour, but thunderous applause filled the hall.

Not having been informed of any of it, Magrid was taken by surprise, but he quickly realised that this was not a bad idea. Once the marriage was completed, far from being a source of conflict, Leo would become a good link with Allion. The only thing was that since General Anglatt was an upstart, he had no connection to Allion’s royal family. It would be a lie to say that Magrid was unconcerned about that, but, for now, he was not in a position to aim too high.

“Is that true, Leo?” Magrid also clapped his hands. After which, “Really, in sending my son away, I had intended for him to broaden his perspective, but then he goes and finds himself a bride. I guess you can’t fight the Attiel blood, huh?”

He joked and made everyone laugh. He glanced towards his wife, the princess-consort, to get her approval, but as she responded with an unamused expression, he quickly cleared his throat. Nevertheless, there was no doubt that Sovereign-Prince Magrid welcomed the announcement.

That was the second occasion on which he misread the situation.

The hall was enveloped in a harmonious mood, but Lord Leo Attiel’s announcement was in no way likely to strengthen the relationship between the two countries, and was instead a ‘declaration of war’ from Atall to Allion – or rather, from Lord Leo to the Allian aristocrat, Hayden Swift.

But then, perhaps it was too harsh to blame Magrid for misreading the situation. The only one there who had realised Leo’s real intention was Hayden Swift, who was staring intently at Leo, his face ashen. In other words, within that hall that was filled with warm applause, it was only between Leo and Hayden that feelings of furious enmity were colliding.

Speaking of declarations of war, Leo had already received one from Hayden. It was he who had first said that, “Atall’s peace is just like the feed tossed to cattle. It won’t last for long.”

It was nothing less than a declaration of his intention to burn Atall to the ground. For a moment, Leo had not thought that he was serious, but when he noticed how unnatural Florrie’s attitude was as she announced to everyone that she would be returning home, he had realised, that man would actually do it. It was only now that he realised how this man had worked out scheme after scheme to get his hands on Florrie.

For a moment, the capital, Tiwana, appeared in Leo’s mind; set alight at Hayden’s hands, its buildings burning down. The people who were running about, trying to flee, were cut down one after another by Allion’s soldiers. Hayden Swift watched as women, children and the elderly were run through with spears. He wore a faint smile, and Florrie was at his side, his hand on her waist.

That was what Hayden had said he would do.

Which was why Leo had also spoken.

“I’ll show it you. How Atall, how this second-born prince, Lord Leo, will turn the tables on you.”

He had spent more than six years as a hostage in a foreign country, and he was a prince who had rarely openly displayed his emotions before now. His anger, sadness and joy all seemed to be wrapped up in a cloth, which they never came out from. He frequently did not even now what kind of expression he himself was showing at any given time. In that moment, those feelings that he had been accumulating for six years and more had condensed and transformed into a single arrow which were fitted to a bow drawn as tightly as it would go before being released at full power.

Hayden Swift – the enemy pierced by that arrow – staggered and stared astounded at Leo. And Leo Attiel savoured unparalleled delight.

But that too lasted no more than an instant. Hayden’s face slowly turned scarlet from rage and, as if keeping pace with it, Leo's joy faded. I might have done something that can never be undone, a surging sense of regret completely shrouded his delight at his victory.

Allion was, of course, a great power. Even if all of Atall fought against it, they did not have a one in a million chance of victory. Which meant that the words which had ridden on the arrow he had just fired might have been no more than an incantation to bring ruin and destruction to his native land.

While Leo might have gotten frightened at Hayden’s furious expression, now that he understood its true nature as well as what lay behind it, there was no longer anything dignified about it. On the contrary, Leo could see that the essence of Hayden’s anger was that of a childish and vain man filled with a distorted desire to monopolise what he wanted, and a desire to flaunt his own power.

For a while, Leo and Hayden continued their silent exchange of emotions, carried out only through their gazes, but this too did not last long.

“Congratulations, Prince.”

“Congratulations!”

Wine cups in hand, men and women of all ages crowded around Leo to express their delight. Even though they had been curious about Leo, there was a world of difference with how they had earlier hesitated to even stand around talking with him. By nature, Leo was always flustered when he had to appear before a large number of people, yet this time, perhaps because he had only recently put on an act in front of Oswell and Bernard, he was able to receive all of their congratulations with a smile.

“Thank you very much.”

His heart was learning to feel relaxed enough to calmly return their good wishes.

On this occasion, the entire crowd converged on Leo. Everyone wanted to hear about the start of his romance with Florrie, and about his life in Allion. Although Leo was still under some strain, he managed to answer them more or less tactfully.

During all of that, from the corner of his eye, Leo caught sight of Hayden addressing Sovereign-Prince Magrid. He seemed to be requesting permission to withdraw. The sovereign-prince nodded and called to gather everyone’s attention, once more saying a few words in celebration of the good relationship with Allion.

Hayden crossed the hall and walked straight towards Leo, who could not avoid tensing up. Hayden passed him by without pausing, sending him only a slight bow. Observers would not even have been able to see it.

In that instant, however –

“Remember this,” he whispered. “Brat, I’ll take Florrie to bed in front of your severed head.”

He darted no sharp glare towards Leo. It was only that there was a darkness within his eyes. Leo remembered the first time he had been anywhere near Hayden; the Allian noble had worn the exact same expression while pouring scorn on Leo and on Atall.

Although he had an air of being terribly level-headed, in fact, and just as Leo had earlier sensed, Hayden was as immature as a child who had yet to grow up. In spite of that, he could not, of course, be dismissed as “nothing but a child” since he was a high-ranking noble from the great country of Allion, and one whose position allowed him to be entrusted with diplomatic missions such as his current role of envoy.

At the very least, compared to Leo, who was not in a position to freely move even a single soldier, he held some ‘power’. And he had both the ability to take action and the ambition to put that power into practice. The proof of that was that he had come to Atall Palace according to his own wish.

How does he intend to wield his ‘power’ next?

Before long, Hayden’s retreating back passed out of sight, but Leo was inwardly plunged in worried thoughts, even as he was still surrounded by people offering him their congratulations.

Part 2

Once Hayden had left the hall and everyone gathered around Leo had satisfied their curiosity about him, the atmosphere at the banquet turned a little dull. At least for the time being, the threat that might have befallen them at any time had passed by, and it seemed that they would be able to continue enjoying the peaceful days they had known until now, and so all of those there started to spend their time how they best pleased: flirting with the women they had an eye on, talking business, singing songs or dancing for pleasure.

Sovereign-Prince Magrid showed signs of leaving, so everyone spoke words of salutation and were about to see him off, when a commotion that was not a minor one erupted.

When turned to look at the people involved, Leo’s eyes narrowed.

How interesting, he thought.

Of the two of them, one was a man who, even among the other vassal lords, inevitably attracted the eye thanks to the luxurious clothes, sparkling ornaments and precious metals that he wore, while one glance at the other was enough to see that the faded clothes he had on were his best suit, which he seemed to have hurriedly climbed into.

In terms of appearance, the two were complete opposites, but both were domain lords with castles to the south of Tiwana, the capital city, and were nobles who were referred to as vassal lords of hereditary fiefs. Even Leo, who had been away from Atall for so long, remembered their names and faces.

The first was Darren Actica.

More than ten years ago, sparks had flown when two vassal lords had been embroiled in a dispute over a vein of dragonbone, and Darren, who had been one of those concerned, had emerged victorious. Moreover, because the then sovereign-prince had been unable to arbitrate the dispute, a great many of the nobles had criticised him for his ‘lack of ability’, which had forced him to hand over the throne to the then prince, Magrid. The key figure in ousting the previous ruler had again been Darren.

From there on, the power of the ruling princely house weakened, while that of the vassal lords was strengthened. And among them, Darren was the one who had become the most influential of them all.

The other man was Savan Roux.

He possessed a fort and a small territory at the southwest border. His clothing was shabby and his face pallid, in sharp contrast to Darren’s glowing complexion. Although Savan could not have been older than his mid-fifties, his hair was already completely grey. He should have retired from the position of castle lord a long time ago.

Savan edged up to Darren to say something, then, the next moment, seemed about to move towards Sovereign-Prince Magrid.

“Wait!” This time, it was Darren who sharply called out as he blocked Savan’s way. “What are you planning on saying? Are you going to inflict upon His Majesty the same baseless rumours that you just told me?”

“What ‘baseless rumours’?” Savan shook his grey head. “How dare you say that? Pull your scoundrels out of my territory right now!”

He was as incandescent with anger as a fireball, while Darren turned towards the sovereign-prince, who seemed about to stop, as though to quickly ward him off.

“I beg a thousand pardons. This is nothing that you should be disturbing yourself over, Your Majesty.”

He spoke courteously, but to Leo, it looked as though the sharp glint from Darren’s eyes was urging the sovereign-prince to leave as quickly as possible.

Although Magrid’s expression turned conflicted for a moment, he nodded. “Well, in that case...” he said and left the hall, accompanied by his wife and several pages,

“Please wait!”

Savan cried out even so, but Darren once again stood in his way. Savan agitatedly shoved him in the chest, at which point the onlooking crowd starting clamouring in excitement at the prospect of an interesting development. Darren, however, calmly fixed his dishevelled clothing and shrugged his fleshy shoulders.

“This is very distressing, Lord Savan. You have defended this country for many long years, and I respect for you for that. But it is clear how you intend to bring me down – well, to put it simply, this vulgar gossip sprung up very quickly...”

“Shut up, you damn whelp,” he was gasping and wheezing as he thrust a finger towards Darren. “You manipulate the ruler like a puppet with your hundreds of lies and your thousand of flowery words. You’re the very incarnation of the two-faced, country-destroying devil. The guardian deity Lévi-Rahan’s scissors made from a melted horseshoe should reveal your two tongues and your three tails, and expose your real nature.”

“You’ve gone too far!”

Previously poised and relaxed, Darren now flared up angrily. “The two-faced devil”, “scissors made from a melted horseshoe” and so on were the greatest possible insults in those lands. They originated from myths but, since they were very old-fashioned expressions, the younger generations barely used them.

“Take that back!”

“Oh, it looks like even a devil can’t stand to have their own actions criticised.”

“You’re still saying that!”

Now that both of them were shouting, the other vassal lords and nobles finally intervened. Some time later, the two of them had been pulled apart and were on the point of leaving the hall through separate exits, but Leo was right ahead in the direction that Savan was taking. Or rather, Leo had put himself there, making it look like nothing more than coincidence. The grey-haired rural domain lord glared at him, anger blazing in his eyes. Still breathing violently, he passed by Leo without a single word of greeting.

Only a few people were left in the hall after that, involved in long conversations, stuffing left-over food in bags, or, for the lovers, exchanging promises of secret rendez-vous. Leo emerged from the narrow corridor leading to a balcony from the hall’s mezzanine floor. Florrie Anglatt walked beside him

“You must have been surprised,” he said nervously, and Florrie nodded silently.

She still hadn’t spoken since Leo had made his declaration. Whenever their eyes had met in the hall, she had quickly looked down, her face as red as if it were on fire.

“I was thinking of talking to you about at some point, when I got a chance,” Leo’s explanation was equally awkward. Stuttering repeatedly over his words, he spoke of his emotions. “Do you remember what I said that time – the night we were being chased down by Allion’s soldiers? That for me, whether in Allion or in Atall, wherever it is that you're laughing and singing is where I can laugh too. My feelings have been set since a long time ago.”

It’s not a lie, thought Leo.

At the very least, it was true that his heart had strongly rebelled against it when he realised that Hayden was probably reaching to grasp hold of Florrie. He had also thought at that moment that he should be the one standing beside her, with his hand on her shoulder.

Fate has decreed that will definitely be the case one day. It just happened a bit sooner than I expected. Leo transposed his feelings into those words.

He peered at Florrie, who was still silent.

“Are you against it?” he asked. “If you’re against the idea, then there’s no helping it. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to my father and we can forget about it. You can even go back to Allion with Sir Hayden on that very same day. Everyone at court will laugh at the pathetic prince for the rest of all time. But don’t worry, it’s fine. You don’t need to feel even the smallest twinge of pain over it.”

“Leo, you…” Florrie opened her eyes wide and her mouth fell open in surprise. It was as though the smiling mask she had constantly been wearing in the hall was crumbling away. “Are you threatening me?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

“You're a coward.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” seeing Leo avoiding the issue, Florrie looked as though she gave up.

“Could you ask me once more? ‘Florrie, are you against it?’”

“You’re not against it?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Florrie threw out her chest, imitating Leo’s voice and facial expression.

The two of them broke into chuckles. Then Florrie, her face bright red, said “I’m… not against it,” in a voice that had almost faded to nothing.

“…anyway, if I go back to Allion like this, I would probably never see you again.”

“When Florrie isn’t by my side, I cry from loneliness.”

“Honestly,” Florrie stared wide-eyed at him again. “You're hopeless without me. It’s only been a few days that I haven’t taken care of it, and that beautiful hair has already turned into this.”

Florrie touched Leo’s hair, which was roughly bunched up behind the back of his head.

“There wasn’t anyone making a fuss about my hair, and since it was just in the way, I was thinking of cutting it short. Without you, Florrie, this hair only has a few days left. Poor thing,” Leo softly placed his hand over hers, which was still touching his hair. “It seems that the young lady who loved you so much is heartlessly going to abandon you and go home. Isn’t there anything you, O my hair, wants to say?”

“Are you planning on holding your own hair hostage this time?”

Afterwards, they talked endlessly, mostly about stories of their time in Allion. About the secret hideout hut they had made out of hay, about going fishing at the pond, and also about the time they had saved money without the adults knowing, and then slipped past those adults’ surveillance and gone out shopping in the town.

“Back then, you were the scarediest, Leo. ‘Look, that vendor on the street corner, doesn’t he look like one of the soldiers at the castle? He’s definitely in disguise and keeping watch on us. Let’s take a different road. Ah, wait… the women down that way – I’m sure I’ve seen them in the kitchens’…”

“I wasn’t frightened,” Leo responded indignantly. “It was a case of being cautious and wary. It’s essential when protecting yourself and the one you care for. That’s something that both Walter and Jack are missing; they’ll definitely never be called heroes.”

Florrie giggled and Leo burst out laughing in turn.

Encased in their iron baskets, the fires were still blazing in the courtyard. The time the two of them spent talking as they looked down on that line of lights reminded Leo of living in Allion. From start to last, the two talked only of past events.

“Father,” Florrie let drop a single word. “What would Father say if he could hear us?”

The unchangeable past had suddenly been caught up by the shadow of the future. The signs of change were impossible to predict, and so went hand-in-hand with unease. For just a second, Leo did not know what to say.

“He would be happy. Or then again, maybe he’d come after me with a sword. While shouting something like: ‘if you want to take my daughter, you’ll have to take my head first’.”

He laughed it off as a joke, and Florrie also let herself be lured into smiling.

“I wonder who I should support in that case? I don’t want either you or Father to be hurt.”

“It’s fine. It’ll just mean going easy.”

“Father will have to, you mean?”

“Hey! Even I’m stronger than I look.”

The fires in the courtyard started petering out one after another. Before long, Florrie, accompanied by several ladies’ maids, left the balcony. He wished her goodnight and watched her leave, while thinking, that girl and I are going to get married? Strong and sweet emotions welled up within him. It seemed unreal.

A memory resurfaced of playing house when he was very young – long before he had been sent to Allion. He had chosen one from among the daughters of the palace servants to play the part of the bride, and they had spent all day pretending to be a married couple. He smiled crookedly, but it quickly vanished.

As though replacing Florrie, Percy Leegan appeared on the balcony.

“Have you, by any chance, been waiting for me all this time?” Leo asked when he saw him. Percy nodded with a calm expression.

“I did not want to disturb your time with the young lady. Please do not worry, I was not eavesdropping.”

“It’s fine since it’s you. You helped me out back there.”

Leo thanked him for how, when he had announced his betrothal to Florrie, Percy lent him a hand by saying that “your relationship will mean that relations between the two countries will grow even warmer.”

“It was impertinent of me, but I am honoured if it was of help to you,” Percy gave a slight bow. “Although this may be arrogant of me, I feel that it was through a mysterious connection that I met Your Highness and the young lady in the mountains. Your marriage would fill me with joy, but…”

Percy was worried about how abrupt the prince’s actions appeared to him. Percy had spoken to him directly at the banquet, but judging from his state at that time, it was hard to believe that the prince had been intending to announce his engagement from the start.

What’s up with the timing?

It was just after Florrie Anglatt had declared that she would return to Allion, so it was possible to view as the impetuosity of youth succumbing to the pain of separation. However –

“I don’t know anything much about it, but when everyone was swept up in that celebratory mood, only Hayden went white. Was that really alright?”

When Percy said that, the expression on Leo’s face was exactly the same as if a person passing him in the street had suddenly sprinkled purifying salt over him. The next moment, he unintentionally let out a laugh.

“Not only are you a master at the spear, Percy, but you’re also outstandingly sharp.”

“I didn’t want to barge in again since that would also have been impertinent, but…”

“It’s fine.”

Still, even though he said that, Leo did not explain anything about Hayden and Florrie. Percy did not press him for a answer as he was still unsure about what his distance was with the second prince. And while he was hesitating, Leo changed the subject entirely.

“You arrived just at the right time. I was curious about the commotion earlier. Do you know what’s going on between Savan and Darren?”

This too was abrupt. Oh? Percy seemed to say as he raised his eyebrows for a second, but he answered immediately afterwards, “As I was also somewhat curious, I asked a few people about it. Apparently, marauders have appeared in Lord Savan’s territory and have laid waste around a quarry there. It seems as though Lord Savan believes that it was Lord Darren’s doing.”

“The Leegan House’s hero is also quick of ear,” Leo smiled at Percy’s ready answer. “…And? How credible do you think that rumour is?”

“I don’t have enough grounds to form a judgement, but the vassals and retainers are saying it's ten to one that what Lord Savan says is true.”

“Why?”

“Lord Darren frequently talks about how he wants to build a new castle in his territory. And Lord Savan’s domains have an excellent quarry. For a long while now, Lord Darren has been approaching Lord Savan about the idea of sharing ownership of it, in exchange for which, he would send soldiers to help with ensuring security at the border.”

“And Savan keeps refusing?”

“Aye. Well, he does not seem very fond of Lord Darren.”

There was of course a reason for that. During the war, seven years ago, Savan Roux’s lands were the only ones to have been invaded by Allion. Shazarn, the main instigators behind the war, had lost their fortress, and Atall’s troops had already withdrawn, but Allion had probably reasoned that ‘we need to make our opponents fully understand the difference in power.’ The border fortresses held by Savan’s retainers were all burned down one after another, and Allion’s army got close to his castle town. Savan repeatedly requested reinforcements to Darren, who was on standby to his rear, but Darren came up with one reason after another for not responding to the appeal.

No doubt he had realised that Allion did not intend to utterly annihilate Atall, and that this was no more than their making a show of power to instill fear. In which case, there was no need to desperately defend the country to the death. Darren must have decided that rather than wasting soldiers and money, it would be better to firmly shut the gates of his own castle, and wait for the storm to pass.

With the brunt of Allion’s attack turned towards him, however, Savan had no way of protecting his people other than to frantically try to stop Allion’s invasion.

“…The result was that Allion pulled back even though Lord Savan’s castle was right before their eyes, but both of Lord Savan’s sons died during the fighting.”

After a short pause, Leo nodded. “I see.”

He remembered the glance that Savan had sent his way when passing him by. That anger had not been directly solely at Darren.

Leo Attiel descended back down to the hall in which all activity had almost entirely died out. It was here that, today, he had stood isolated and friendless, that he had approached the vassal lords in order to try out his own ‘power’, that he had trembled in fear of Hayden Swift, and that he had declared his betrothal to Florrie Anglatt. The past no longer existed here. What there was, or better said, what Leo needed to be looking towards, were the ‘changes’ of the future.

Part 3

From the next day onwards, one sudden ‘change’ took place and Leo started to be proactive. It was hard to believe that he had been secluding himself in his own room at the palace, since he now started visiting the nobles who resided in the outskirts of the capital, Tiwana, as well as the vassal lords, who had gone there to call upon the sovereign-prince.

Among the nobles that he visited were those of the Leegan House. At the time, Percy, the second son, was out of the house, but he learned about it later from his father, Nordred.

Leo had apparently approached him saying that, “I wish to deploy permanent forces in Tiwana and in the other towns.”

It had been so abrupt that Nordred Leegan had been bewildered.

“Currently, in Atall,” Leo had begun, “the nobles who have soldiers live in the towns or villages of their domains and, if ever war breaks out, they will receive the king’s command and gather their retainers, and sometimes, mercenaries so as to assemble a troop to command. The proportion of mercenaries in Atall’s military forces is unusually high. But don’t you think that this is far too inefficient? I saw that in Allion, several hundred or, depending on the scale, several thousand soldiers were stationed at all times in each of the castles and towns. This isn’t only for defence, but also so that whenever an order comes from the king, military forces can be moved quickly. Moreover, those in command of them are not the domain lords, but ‘generals’.

The majority of them are nobles but, as was the case with Sir Claude, in whose custody I was left, there are also those whose birth has no bearing on their position. A certain percentage of them serve as domain lords or as lords of a keep, but the remainder reside with their soldiers at the royal capital, or at important strategic locations, and in case of an emergency, their mobility is far greater than that of a keep-lord. Furthermore, since they are, by nature, individual groups, it’s easy to identify each one’s strengths and weaknesses – for example, the House of Gatanoah is good at siege warfare, or the Veen Corps excel at naval battles – so that when Allion is at war, the troops selected from among the keep-lords and generals are organised according to the situation and to the battlefield.”

After expounding at length on Allion’s military superiority, Leo had declared that “Atall should do the same”.

“I wish to request the assistance of each of the vassal lords and of the hereditary retainers. Please, won’t you petition Father with me about it?”

He had leaned forward as he said that, but of course, Nordred could not give him an immediate reply. His eyes politely looking down, he had said, “I will think about it.”

To his son, however, Nordred confided his honest thoughts. “With all due respect to him, His Highness whom you rescued seems to have been a bit too strongly influenced by Allion.”

Percy wasn’t able to say anything, but neither did he laugh at it.

Just like at the banquet, he’s very sudden in what he does.

The next day, as he was leaving the castle as usual, Leo was ambushed by Percy. Unsure about what to say after giving his greetings, Percy had decided to leave that for when the time came. As a result –

“I heard about it from my father.”

– Was how he broached the subject. Having halted his steps, Leo smiled.

“I’m sure your father laughed it off as me being whimsical.”

“I did not say that. Still, I’ve crossed spears with soldiers from Allion; there are things to think about in Your Highness’ suggestion. May I accompany you today?”

“Sure,” Leo agreed easily.

They left the castle building together and attendants lead horses to them.

“Do you intend to go far?” Percy’s eyes went wide.

Leo only had one young boy as an attendant, while Percy hadn’t brought any.

“Today, I’m going to visit the residences of the vassal lords in the suburbs.”

Do you intend to visit everyone who lives in Tiwana’s suburbs?

He was certainly being thorough. Which indicated that he was neither doing it just for show or on a whim. Percy deliberately refrained from trying to get Leo’s intentions out of him. Nor did he ask him why. He felt that if he tried to press him now, Leo would simply dodge the issue. Leo Attiel looked like a soft and malleable person to deal with, but there was a certain firmness in his expression.

Let’s try going with him for a bit.

After all, he felt a strange ‘connection’ to Lord Leo. There was probably no clear reason for it, but when Leo had publicly announced his betrothal at the banquet – Leo, who had once been humiliated in front of everyone by Hayden and who, from what Percy could see, was now giving Hayden a surprise – Percy’s impression of the prince had acquired a little more depth.

And speaking of ‘connections’, there were also Percy’s strange friends.

From the next day onwards, the mercenary Kuon and the warrior monk Camus joined Leo and Percy. Needless to say, the latter had been the one to call them; partly to protect the prince, of course, but also because Leo had wanted to meet from the start. And with Camus, his younger sister, Sarah, naturally came to, looking intrigued.

“We’re not going to play,” said Camus.

“I know. That’s why I brought this,” on horseback, Sarah brandished what she was talking about. Camus started.

“T-That… Isn’t that the gun I sold? W-Why… How come you have it?”

“I went and spoke honestly with the merchant. He was a very kind-hearted old gentleman, and immediately gave me my gun back.”

“What was honest about that?” Kuon wearily denounced her. “You even dragged me into it.”

From what he said, Sarah had forcefully brought Kuon with her to the shop where her brother had sold her gun and there, she had immediately pointed at the guns lined up in front of it.

“That gun was stolen from our home,” she had declared before suddenly clinging to Kuon.

“Although the family has fallen into ruin, we are descended from village nobles who were once known for their military exploits. Thieves barged into our home, aiming for what little was left from our grandfather’s time. Who was it who brought you this gun? What? It was someone who looked like a priest of the Cross Faith? Kuon, it must definitely have been him. Right… I see, that man was no monk of the Cross Faith. He pretended to be one in order to deceive us but was actually the ringleader. He murdered our father when he tried to stop him. That gun is essentially my little brother’s sole memento of our father. Please, take pity on the child. Please give him a chance to take a revenge of leaden bullets against those hell-spawned demons!”

Sarah buried her face against Kuon – her ‘little brother’s’ – shoulder and burst out weeping. It went without saying that Kuon’s shoulder did not get even remotely wet, but the shopkeeper, who looked so stern at first glance, completely fell for it.

“I thought he looked shady from the moment he appeared in front of my store, but I never imagined it was that bad. My credibility is going to drop like stone for having bought stolen goods from such a vicious bastard. It’s fine, I don’t need the money. Take it. Use it to drill a hole right through his sorry forehead.”

He handed the gun to Sarah, believing her to be the older sister in this imaginary pair of siblings.

“W-What! How could a devout believer lie like that?” Camus roared from on horseback. The poor guy had, after all, been treated like a burglar and got called a ‘hell-spawned demon’. “Get off that horse, Sarah. Kneel and beg the Lord for forgiveness.”

“No,” Sarah’s response was as quick as it was uncompromising. “In the first place, you’re the one in the wrong, Big Brother, for going and selling my gun any way you pleased. You’re the one who should be confessing and repenting.”

Since the usual kind of quarrel had sprung up between them, Percy – also as usual – had to calm things down between them.

“Enough already, you two. Honestly, even though His Highness the Prince is right here.”

“It’s fine. They’re exactly as you said they were,” Leo laughed brightly.

Sarah turned to smile at him and congratulated him on his engagement.

“It’s such a romantic story: the aristocrat’s son and the young lady bound together beneath the starry sky as they were chased down by savages bearing flaming torches. I wouldn’t be surprised if it still gets sung about as a verse in a heroic legend many years from now. Big Brother, we’ll be in that legend too.”

Sarah looked like she was in high spirits.

“It wasn’t a starry sky,” when Kuon threw cold water over it, she immediately turned sulky.

At the same time, Camus wore a complicated expression. The mood was already tending towards a reconciliation between Atall and Allion, and on top of that, if Lord Leo married the daughter of an Allian general, that trend would only get stronger. Which would be a problem for Camus, who was hoping for reinforcements from Atall to help Conscon Temple against Allion’s army.

Still, he didn’t say anything. That was partly because his interest had been caught by the Leo’s ‘business’ with the nobles he was visiting.

“Right, let’s go.”

Even if the number of attendants increased, that didn’t change what the prince needed to do. Leo urged his horse forward.

Leo’s group visited ten nobles in three days.

By the third day, the rumour had already spread about him paying calls to aristocratic residences. Each and every time, the nobles standing in the entranceway or in front of the gate, or else looking down from the mansion windows, wore an expression that said – Wow, so he really came. Percy had seen it time and time again.

Among the aristocrats they visited were several vassal lords who had been at the party.

Oswell, Bernard, Tokamakk.

There was no particular difference between their reactions and those of the other nobles. When Leo started to preach about the need of forming a national army:

“I see. What you are saying is certainly very reasonable,” nodded Bernard.

“However, it isn’t the sort of thing that can be done overnight,” answered Tokamakk, irritated at having to waste time on the prince’s visit.

“It is a momentous topic for the country so, in the future, let us take out time to discuss it at length,” Oswell began, turning him down in an unhurried tone of voice.

In short, it was the same as with Percy’s father.

“His Highness has been a very much influenced by Allion,” was an impression that was widely shared. Among the nobles:

“Since the prince lived in a foreign country, he seems to believe that only he can recognise how vast the world is.”

“Things can’t go on like this, our country has fallen behind… – well, that kind of fretting is common among young men, but dragging us into it is honestly not funny.”

“His Highness no doubt intends to protect the country single-handedly.”

His father’s words and reactions were more than enough for him to guess what kind of rumours were being whispered. At first, Percy had held similar thoughts. Where he differed the most from the other nobles, however, was that he had found it heart-warming, interpreting it as, he is in every way a young man with a budding interest in politics and society.

Yet after finishing making the rounds of several noble residences, he began to think differently. Although he had known him only a very short time, he could not believe that the second prince was that foolish and unperceptive. He must surely realise that he was not welcome at any of his destinations, and that his proposal was not being favourably received.

Normally, one would at least consider changing their way of doing things.

The prince’s attitude, however, did not change. What he said remained exactly the same. Since his words never changed, even Kuon, who stood behind him like a bodyguard, learned to remember them, and one lunchtime, when the prince wasn’t around, he recited them from memory.

Sarah immediately flared up.

“Do you even understand the meaning of those words? Even a monkey can imitate human actions.”

“He’s talking about how to fight more skilfully and more effectively. Don’t take me for an idiot,” Kuon snarled in reply. In the past, he had surely experienced fighting as part of a group. “I get what the prince is saying. But it’s useless. Because he keeps talking on and on, it’s so boring that listening makes you fall asleep.”

Despite showing sympathy for the prince, even Kuon was critical and felt that he needed to do better. Camus did too.

“It’s presumptuous for us to interfere, but shouldn’t we instruct the prince in a few things?” He came to consult with Percy. “As things are now, the prince is being far too direct. For example, when we speak of God’s teachings, merely preaching with passion is no good. To lull people’s caution, we need wisdom, structure and quick wits at the appropriate times.”

“Oh? Does that mean that you support what the prince is trying to do, Camus?”

“Of course,” Camus raised his thick brows and puffed out his chest. “The prince is no doubt raising the need to reorganise the military because he has experienced how untrustworthy Allion is, and because he has his doubts about the current talks of peace. I can tell that he is far braver compared to those gutless Atallese nobles. While everyone is slavering for a false peace, he is prepared to gather soldiers and to oppose Allion, even if it means doing so alone.”

Previously, Camus had concluded that the prince ‘did not have what it takes to lead soldiers’, and he had felt no little displeasure over the engagement with Florrie, yet it seemed that Leo’s current attitude had greatly impressed him.

“Still,” Percy frowned. “Doesn’t it seem that he is hurrying things too much? Rather than going around calling on anyone and everyone, he should narrow his focus on two or three people who look like they might be open to his suggestion, then carefully argue his case in depth with them.”

“If he does not act swiftly, the vassal lords will all return to their territories. More importantly, about persuading him: Percy, won’t you talk to the prince? I can teach you how to seize a person’s heart so that it can’t break free of your grasp.”

“In that case, wouldn’t it be better for you to talk to him directly?”

“A mere warrior monk cannot talk to a prince about something like that.”

As unlikely as it seemed, it looked like Camus was conscious of differences in social position. Although, rather than it being a case of him being filled with awe, Percy guessed that it was simply because Camus felt awkward dealing the unfamiliar House of the sovereign-princes. Although he seemed like kind of reckless hothead who would come flying out of a house shouting, “I’ll shoot the messenger”, he also had this other side to him.

As for Percy, he had more than once thought about talking to the prince. When the nobles that Leo was trying to persuade looked bored, Percy had several times been on the verge of lending him some help.

Yet he had stopped himself each time. Not so much because it wasn’t his place to interrupt, but because he had been struck with the thought that, perhaps the prince is always repeating the same thing because his purpose is something other than trying to convince the nobles.

And even if I’m overestimating him…

On the evening of the third day since Percy had first joined him, the object of Leo’s final call was Savan Roux. The man who, during the banquet, had tried to petition the monarch over trouble at a quarry, and who had gotten into a quarrel with Darren Actica.

Unlike the other vassal lords, Savan had not set up a mansion within the capital. In cases such as these, there were residences as well as rooms at the palace prepared for those who had come to pay their respects to the ruler. Yet Savan had rented a small, cramped house. But then again, he had only brought three attendants with him. Although the living room served its purpose, it soon got overcrowded as Leo, as well as Percy, Camus, Sarah and Kuon all squeezed into one after another.

“I was thinking of leaving Tiwana tomorrow. If you have business with me, please keep it brief.”

Again unlike the other vassal lords, Savan did not even put up a superficial pretence. He must surely have heard from rumours what the ‘business’ was, and had decided that it was a waste of time. Camus started to frown, however –

“Tomorrow? Did something unexpected come up?”

– Leo’s curiosity-filled question had him exchanging glances with Percy. The message their gazes exchanged could be summed up as: huh? Up until then, Leo had always cut directly to his own “business”, without allowing the other party to get even a single word in.

“As to that,” Savan shook his grey head, “it’s simply that if I am away for too long, certain parasitic henchmen will be free to damage my lands.”

“I see. Sir Savan, since your castle is by the western border, you need to prepare for foreign incursions.” “It’s not limited to foreigners.”

The anger in Savan’s expression was clear even as he smiled, and his words were aimed at Darren for sending marauders to his quarry.

“Do you not think that the current system is insufficient to protect the country against foreign enemies?” Leo returned to the usual ‘business’.

Savan listened in silence while sipping his watery tea.

“What you say is interesting,” he said with a nod. Leo’s expression instantly brightened.

“Really? In that case, Sir Savan, won’t you cooperate with me and…”

“However, it would cost huge amounts of money,” Savan reigned Leo in.

It was obvious that it would ‘cost money’. Setting up the aforementioned defensive force would cost two or three times what had been spent on the military up until then. They would need to pay for wages, provisions, weapons, armour and horses. The soldiers would also need places to live and people to help tend to their daily needs.

It was precisely to avoid the cost in money and effort that, in Atall, the sovereign-prince and the nobles employed mercenaries every time there was a war. So in a way, the system was one that maximised efficiency.

“A moment ago, I said that the enemies might not only be outside. But since my castle is at the border, I have to use my personnel and my funds to defend it at all costs, and I cannot afford to spare either for the enemies within. That’s what my situation is. Pardon my rudeness, but your idea is unrealistic.”

What he said was entirely reasonable, yet Leo’s reaction was unexpected for Percy and the others.

“It’s about money?”

For some reason, his good-humoured interest abruptly disappeared, his tone of voice changed, and he started contradicting Savan.

“The ones providing the money will not be you lot but the princely house. There is nothing for you to fret about, Sir Savan.”

“The princely house?” Savan’s expression also changed. “In that case, it’s all the more impossible. As I said a moment ago, I am one link in the western chain of defence. Yet in spite of that, His Majesty Magrid has not once concerned himself with my territory, which was driven to ruin by the previous war. It’s gotten to the point where I have to wonder if His Majesty Magrid hasn’t decided to let Allion have the western border region. If, at this point in time, the ruling House finally decides to raise the vast sums of money needed, then we can start reorganising the military.”

“That…” the prince immediately opened his mouth to argue, but could not find the words to continue.

Camus elbowed Percy in the ribs. Since he himself was unfamiliar with the country’s situation, he was probably trying to tell Percy that he should the one to help the prince out. Percy, however, remained silent.

“Please go home, Your Highness. My circumstances are as you see, so I am in no position to offer you proper hospitality. Your Highness, why don’t you talk directly to your father about your thoughts?”

After that, there was nothing more to be done. By the time Leo and the others left the house that Savan Roux was renting, it was already starting to get dark. Sitting astride his horse, Percy could read the expression on Leo’s face.

“Well then, let’s go back,” Leo Attiel called out to the others. “I appreciate that you’ve undertaken to act as guards. Not to borrow Savan’s words, but as I do not have money to spend freely, I’m sorry that I cannot pay you.”

He urged his horse into a canter. The others followed behind. Camus was sullen the whole way, since, in the end, things they had not gotten the results he had hoped for. Yet when Percy has glanced at Leo’s face, he was sure that he had seen him smiling.

It was a smile that seemed to imply that far from not having achieved any results, they had accomplished something vital, which the rest of Leo’s party would learn of before long.

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