Tales of Leo Attiel ~Portrait of the Headless Prince~

Volume 3, Chapter 3: Bloody Sword

Part 1

Darren Actica.

He was one of the vassal-lords who, between them, governed over the southern half of Atall’s territory, and who had once clashed with Leo over the quarry within Savan Roux’s domains. Although officially that fight had never happened, in the end, Darren had been forced to give up on the quarry, and had lost his oldest son, Togo.

It had been half a year since then.

Darren’s attitude never wavered, and he became the leader of what could be called the ‘anti-Leo Attiel’ faction.

“These Personal Guards are outrageous. Have you all forgotten the incident at Conscon? If the prince is put in charge of an armed force, he’ll go over our heads and our lands again, and start wars however he wants.”

He used every possible occasion to remind the vassal-lords of the danger that Leo posed.

Ostensibly, Leo had ‘acted on the sovereign-prince’s orders’ at Conscon, but rumours were being whispered about how he might have wilfully acted entirely on his own, and they had been spread by none other than Darren.

“The only result is that it’s drawn Allion’s attention. If the prince is allowed a free hand to do as he pleases, he might call forth unprecedented danger to Atall. His Personal Guards need to be taken away from him as quickly as possible,” he insisted.

Leo wasn’t the sole target of Darren’s attacks, and he also turned them against Savan Roux.

Given that a church was being built in his territory, Savan was strengthening his exchanges with Conscon. He was inviting a number of monks to discuss how to administer the future cathedral, and to work out plans to establish monasteries and churches throughout his territory.

Whereupon, Darren voiced suspicions that: “Savan strengthening his connection to the temple looks a lot like he actually intends to make the Guinbar area a part of the temple’s territory.”

Although Darren’s speeches – delivered sometimes calmly, sometimes fervently – were impassioned, the response to them had so not been very favourable.

Darren Actica was a particularly powerful vassal-lord, and even the princely House kept an eye on his mood. Nobody could afford to disregard him but, right now, Lord Leo was being extolled as a hero such as Atall had never seen before. There was no one who was going to deliberately oppose that trend. And since Leo was at the time being relatively quiet – probably because he was absorbed in playing with the new toy he had had been given – there was no reason for them to feel a sense of urgency.

Shit, those damn fools are just sitting on the fence. As usual, all they care about is what’s right in front of them. It will be too late by the time they realise I’m right. By then, they’ll be nothing left for you bastards except kneel in a row before Leo, waiting for him to slice off your heads.

It was ironic: Darren spent his every day criticising Leo, yet he was the only one who perfectly agreed with Leo's long-hald dissatisfaction against the vassal-lords and other nobles.

As his gloom-filled days piled up, the only one to offer him any support was Oswell Taholin.

Up until that point, the two of them had never had much to do with one another. This was natural enough: Darren had been the driving force behind toppling the previous sovereign-prince, and had accrued considerable power as the ruling House lost prestige, whereas Oswell was comparatively close to the sovereign-prince.

If one traced their family line back to its origins, then most of the nobles who administered the northern half of the principality could be said to be linked by blood to the princely house. Conversely, the Taholin family had strengthened their relationship with the centre of power either by adopting sons of high social standing, or by arranging marriages with well-connected children.

Therefore, rather than saying that Darren and Oswell ‘had little to do with one another’, it was more accurate to say that when they came into contact, they were like mutually opposing forces that repulsed one another, and so they actively avoided having anything to do together.

Yet now, they were rapidly narrowing the distance between them.

“I was the one who once persuaded the sovereign-prince to send reinforcements to Conscon, but I always advocated sending mercenaries whose origins were unknown, to help the temple in secret. I certainly never imagined that the prince would openly fly the flag of House Attiel, or that he would personally lead troops against Allion,” said Oswell. Both of them appeared to share the opinion that “Lord Leo’s very existence might harm Atall.”

Having obtained such an unexpected ally, Darren almost felt like jumping for joy.

Since then, the two of them had been meeting frequently. Sometimes, it was in each other’s territories, and sometimes they avoided attention by dressing up as commoners and meeting in cheap, downtown taverns. On these occasions, they talked about what they could do to keep Lord Leo as far away as possible from government and military affairs.

When they held their many discussions, both of them looked for all the world like men who ‘worried about their country’s future’, although Darren’s heart was, of course, not so much concerned with the future of the country as it was consumed by hatred for Leo. Ever since being so badly burned by the second prince, Darren had vowed to have revenge on Leo and Savan. From start to last, it was all about his own personal feelings.

As such, when Oswell – a man completely unrelated to what had happened – climbed on board so eagerly, Darren felt complacent. You just need to talk about ‘fearing for the country’, and that kind of idiot jumps on it. It’s worth making use of him since it’s so easy to do so.

In fact, however, Oswell did not have a single shred of loyalty towards the ruling family, nor one ounce of patriotic feeling towards Atall. Looking at things from a national perspective, it was actually Oswell who was infinitely more unscrupulous than Darren.

─ Just as Hawking Ingram had once explained to Hayden Swift, Oswell Taholin, despite being one of the vassal-lords of Atall, had maintained a secret correspondence with Commander Hawking, and so, through him, with the Kingdom of Allion.

It dated back to seven years earlier.

Back then, when the principality had allied itself with Shazarn, and so had been attacked by Allion, Oswell had already agreed to work with Hawking. To borrow Hawking’s words, “if the time had come and we had given him the order, he would even have risen to cause trouble from inside the country.”

Even though it had already been seven years, Oswell was prepared to bare his fangs towards the Sovereign House of Attiel.

“Up until now, I’ve always bee striving to build a connection to the centre of power, but this tiny country doesn’t have a future anymore,” he believed.

“It would be ridiculous for a man of my intelligence to be destroyed along with this insignificant country. Someday, I want to wear a toga of cinnabar-purple,” he had thought for some time past.

‘A toga of cinnabar-purple’ was what high-ranking nobles in Allion wore to festivals or when they sat at important meetings.

When Hayden had been planning his second march on the temple, Oswell had received a communication from Hawking, and had already made preparations to gather soldiers. Yet in the end, the plan had fallen through since Lord Leo had defeated Hayden.

This had crushed Oswell’s second chance at becoming an Allian aristocrat, and it left him extremely despondent, yet even so, he continued to exchange messages with Hawking.

It was a few months later when a third opportunity arose.

Instead of the usual messenger, Hawking dispatched one of his direct retainers to Oswell’s residence. He piled bags of money onto a desk. The purpose of those funds was “to erase Leo and destroy Guinbar Church.”

Erase the prince – Oswell caught his breath when he heard it.

But it only lasted a moment. He was a man who had twice plotted to stage a rebellion within Atall’s domains – he had long since steeled his resolve.

It was at that point that he started getting rapidly closer to Darren. Here, after all, was a man who was openly criticising Lord Leo. On top of that, during their many meetings together, he had come to realise something – this is a man who holds extraordinary spite and hostility towards Leo.

It was certainly timely. If he did a good job of manipulating Darren, then he would be able to accomplish his purpose without getting his own hands dirty. In short, and contrary to what Darren believed, Oswell was the one ‘making use’ of his accomplice.

Incidentally, and to talk about details that were hidden even deeper, the idea of ‘erasing the prince’ came solely from the Allian commander, Hawking Ingram. It was not an order from the king. The king of Allion had already shrugged off the question of Atall, and was having a great time riding his war horses east and west to pacify the situation inside his lands.

However, Hawking had cooperated with Hayden before Leo killed him, and he had also met the prince in person at the afore-mentioned meeting. As a result, his instincts were telling him that – Leo Attiel is dangerous.

For the time being, Leo was still young and, as far as Allion was concerned, he was not worth fearing. But although his country was small, his talent was disproportionately large, and one day, he would surely cause Allion harm.

And while he was at it, Hawking also judged that the church which was being built within Atall might prove an obstacle to Allion if the matter with Atall came to war. There were many adherents of the Cross Faith in Allion. He feared that, as had already been the case with Conscon Temple, the country might be held back from the inside because of the links between members of the same faith.

Although he had retired from the front lines, Hawking loved Allion, his native land, more than anyone. He was a man who genuinely believed that – If one day the entire continent is unified, then the flag flying in its capital city has to be Allion’s. If his eyes landed on the sprout from a bad seed, then no matter how small it was, he would not rest until he had trampled it underfoot.

Which was why Hawking pretended that this was the king’s own will, and handed over those war funds while murmuring, “The king of Allion has great hopes for you, Sir Oswell.”

Basically, Hawking was using Oswell, Oswell was using Darren, and both of them were planning on removing Leo without getting their own hands dirty.

So then, Darren and Oswell.

These two met repeatedly, and their discussion gradually grew heated. At some point, Darren confided to Oswell about his son, Togo –

“He was murdered by those base, vile cowards, Savan and Leo.”

This, of course, was false. It was true that Togo had fallen into a trap laid by Leo, but he had actually been killed by an assassin sent by Darren himself. He had said it only as a way of attracting Oswell’s sympathy, but Oswell looked so sorry for him, his eyes even filling with tears, that it was instead Darren who got pulled in and who started to cry.

Oswell took the considerable funds he had received and handed them over to Darren, claiming that they were “what I’ve managed to scrape up.” Darren, needless to say, never suspected that Allion was manoeuvring behind the scenes.

Delighted with the offer of so much money, he hired soldiers for what was to come.

─ While Darren was furthering his plans, Leo Attiel was actually paying close attention to his every move. After all, this was a man who even had his own son killed, and who was clearly hostile towards Leo. Moreover, over the past half year, he relentlessly and openly criticised Leo’s own actions, as well as the creation of his Personal Guards.

During that half a year, they had only seen each other once. It was on the day when Leo had returned to Tiwana’s castle to prepare for the conference, and they had passed by each other in a corridor.

“I hear you have been admonishing me. Please be gentle, Sir Darren,” said Leo.

“Now, now. I say what I do simply because I have sworn allegiance to the princely House, and because I hope to see a brilliant future for Atall. Your Highness Leo, you possess talent second to none. I earnestly implore you to turn that keen intelligence of yours in a different direction,” Darren had responded with a smile.

While publicly maintaining that relationship, Leo had secretly sent several people to Darren’s main citadel. Disguised as merchants or pilgrims of the Cross Faith, they were to carefully observe the situation in both town and castle.

Most of those sent out that way were the former retainers to the Leegan House, owing to the fact that they had the most experience. Leo, always alert to opportunities, decided that “this is the perfect chance,” and had several men from his own troop go with them, to learn how to carry out reconnaissance duties.

At first, there had been no movement from Darren’s side but, after the talks with Allion and Dytiann, Leo received more and more reports of human activity. Lesser castle lords under Darren’s banner, and the governors of his forts were bringing their troops to his main castle town.

They claimed that “marauding soldiers sent by another power have set up base nearby.” Yet when Leo sent people to investigate, just to be sure, they didn't hear the whisper of a rumour about marauders.

With that much information in hand, even someone other than Leo would be able to realise that Darren was planning on taking military action. It was also clear that he did not want his objective to be known.

Did he intend to come up with some reason or another to attack Guinbar again, or was he thinking of targeting Lord Leo himself?

“I’ll only end up on the defensive if I just wait and see,” Leo was forced into making a rapid decision.

Unlike when he had opposed Hayden, and every time, Leo could not postpone things until after he had carefully thought things through. There was, however, one very considerable difference between this time and all the previous ones –

Before, Leo had always been driven by a sense of urgency and necessity. Which meant that he had no choice but to make his move, just as though he was being pushed forward by fire. Even if his methods had been a bit rough-and-ready, simply waiting would result in him being consumed by the flames, so the first priority had been to find a way – any way – to take action.

This time, however, when he heard that Darren is making a move, Leo’s expression had been exactly like someone who has been told that a long-expected caller has finally arrived.

He’s moving? He’s doing me the favour of making his move?

Now, when he stood to meet the enemy, it was no longer because he had no other choice, nor because doing so was the only way to protect himself and what he held dear.

This was an opportunity that Leo Attiel had no intention of letting slip.

Leo immediately summoned Percy, Camus and Kuon to Guinbar Castle.

“I’m thinking of luring him in,” Leo stated after explaining about Darren’s movements. He wanted to probe the vassal-lord’s intentions by deliberately leaving him an opening. And if Darren was really thinking of killing him, Leo would entice him into trying to carry that out, then turn the tables on him and attack him by surprise.

'It’s dangerous – both Percy and Camus shared that thought, but neither spoke it out loud. They were starting to get used to Leo’s way of doing things. Of course what he did was going to be dangerous, and the prince himself acknowledged that danger when he declared that I no longer have any choice but to do this.

Even in that situation, however, Percy could not help but give him a reminder.

“Prince, I’m sure you are well aware of this, but fighting against Darrens’ group means...”

“Bringing civil war to Atall,” Leo readily acknowledged. “But I don’t intend to allow that fire to spread. We’ll extinguish it at once by swiftly and accurately targeting his weak point. This is necessary.”

Percy nodded. If anyone – be they from Allion or from Atall itself – was targeting the prince’s life, then Percy would naturally grasp his spear while standing as Leo’s shield. And if Darren was plotting to rebel because of his personal grudge against the princely house, then it would bear out Leo’s fears that the country lacked unity, while also providing the prince with an opportunity to show off his strength to the other vassal-lords.

Which was precisely why they needed to be swift and accurate. They could not allow anyone the time to interfere.

Leo proposed a plan, on which Percy and Camus offered comments. Kuon sat on the floor in a corner of the room, cradling a sword. Although he remained taciturn, the irritation that had been showing on his face recently had been wiped away.

When the meeting was over, he spoke for the first time since entering the room.

“Is it going to be war?”

The prince confirmed it –

“It is.... Probably.”

“I’d be bothered if it wasn’t,” the corners of Kuon’s mouth curled upwards.

After holding several other similar meetings, Leo started to take action.

First of all, he summoned the Personal Guards, who were stationed throughout Guinbar. The vassal-lords had assembled six hundred soldiers, while he himself had conscripted three hundred from among the people. Counting the reserve soldiers, the total number exceeded a thousand. Since ample funds had also been collected from the vassal-lords, they were equipped with guns, cannons and armour all in the latest model, and had plenty of horses. In terms simply of numbers, Darren could perhaps match that one thousand if he called up the soldiers in his territory for military service, but if he had to hurriedly arrange for cavalrymen, then he would have fewer than three hundred, even including the vassals of House Actica.

When Darren Actica learned of Leo’s movements, he felt considerably shaken.

Does he suspect something? Darren wondered, upon hearing that the prince was gathering all of the soldiers he had to hand.

Just as Leo had guessed, Darren was preparing to attack Guinbar. After spreading false rumours that “Savan is plotting with Conscon Temple and intens to rebel,” he would march all of his troops on Guinbar in one go, on the pretence that, “I found out that Savan’s first wave of attack was going to be directed at my territory, and so I decided to pre-empt him.”

The plan was that later, when it came to making excuses to the sovereign-prince, Oswell would back him up. Although Darren was unaware of Oswell’s connection to Allion, that connection meant that Oswell could obtain endless amounts of letters and seals related to the Cross Faith within Allion. In other words, they could create ample evidence of a connection between Savan and the Cross Faith after Guinbar’s castle town had been reduced to ashes.

While he was at it, Darren had every intention of killing Lord Leo, given how frequently the prince visited Guinbar. For that too, he had prepared ay number of reasons.

“The good-natured prince was happily staying for a time at Guinbar Castle without realising anything about Savan’s schemes. When my troops neared the castle, the prince terribly mistook the situation, and rose to defend Savan. When the prince appeared before us, leading his soldiers, we were reluctantly compelled to fight against him. As a result, the prince fled, and we have not been able to find him since.” – something along those lines would do fine.

The prince liked to play at being a hero, so a made-up story like that one would sound plausible.

After obtaining Oswell’s support, Darren had explained the entire plan to no one but a handful of close relatives and vassals.

“We’ll do it.” – All of them, starting with Dingo Actica, his second son, had shown their willingness. They believed, after all, that his eldest son, Togo, had been killed when he fell into a trap laid by Leo and Savan. Darren had told no one, not even those closest to him, that he was the one who had sent out an assassin against his first-born son.

The head of House Actica was as he was, and, on top of that, his loyalty to the princely house was essentially non-existent. Or rather –

“The ruling house is so happy about that matter concerning Leo that they seem to have forgotten what happened to the previous sovereign-prince. Now is the time to show them our power.”

From the ambition he showed, it was as though he himself were a sovereign.

It was as their preparations were reaching the final stage, that they received reports that “the second prince’s Personal Guards are gathering at Guinbar Castle.” Darren’s face went pale when he heard about it.

Yet Leo did not keep his Guards long at Guinbar, and soon moved most of them away. Apparently, he was going to leave them for a while with Conscon Temple, which he had close ties to. Darren did not know whether a group of marauding soldiers had appeared nearby, or whether Leo wanted to have his men train with the warrior monks, but this was pretty good news either way.

There was more good news to come.

Leo had not only summoned his Guards, he had also invited his fiancée, Florrie, to come from Tiwana. It seemed that after seeing the Personal Guards off at the border, the prince intended to travel with a small number of the remaining soldiers to a an area of holiday villas on the edge of Guinbar. He was planning to enjoy a summer break with his fiancée in a region noted for its beautiful natural scenery.

What an opportunity! Darren leaped for joy when he heard about it.

However, the excuse mentioned earlier would no longer be usable if Darren’s soldiers led an attack on a quiet rest area. At that point, he went to Oswell Taholin for help.

A new gift soon arrived from Oswell: five hundred full sets of armour.

Their make was not uniform: some were, of course, Atall-made, but sets crafted in Allion, Dytiann and various other countries had also been prepared. They were to allow Darren’s soldiers to pass themselves off as ‘marauders of unknown origin’.

Darren entrusted these five hundred ‘marauders’ to one of his relatives, a military man in command of a fortress. They would first surround the resort area, cutting off the prince’s escape route, then they would swoop in to attack.

Darren would personally lead the remainder of his forces to very edge of Guinbar’s territory. As soon as he received word that the prince’s head had been taken, the two troops would immediately join up and launch the assault on Guinbar – such was the plan.

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Togo, your father will avenge you of our foe.

Before, Darren had been rather plump, and his skin had been glowing with health, but recently, his face had been growing gaunt. Within it, only his eyes still gleamed sharply.

Part 2

The horse-drawn carriage which had left Guinbar arrived in the resort area in the evening.

There was a river flowing at the foot of a gently sloping hill. The woods growing along its banks occasionally opened up to reveal the villas of nobles and wealthy merchants.

The carriage drove into the grounds attached to the most luxurious residence of them all.

Leo, however, was not riding inside it. About an hour earlier, he had blended in with the group of riders which were escorting the carriage to its destination. Immediately upon arrival, the prince had stepped out of it and had stood at the summit of the hill which overlooked the villas to the south.

The only ones within the carriage were soldiers who was serving as decoys. Leo’s fiancée, Florrie, had remained at Guinbar Castle.

─ She was the most unfortunate one.

To prevent the plan from being leaked, Leo had hidden it even from her. Since receiving the invitation from Leo a few days earlier, Florrie had been happy and excited at the thought of spending time alone again with her fiancé after so long, but when it was finally time to leave Guinbar, Leo had shown up in her room.

“Something urgent came up. Don’t take a single step out of your chambers until I get in touch with you,” he had suddenly said.

Florrie was surprised and was about to voice her complaints, but any thought of getting her fiancée to listen to her vanished in an instant. Leo’s eyes were looking straight through her, and were gazing at somewhere far distant and different from where she stood.

Leo is up to something, she realised.

“I get it. I’ll just wait here all alone until you come back,” she smiled.

Without even returning her smile or nodding to her, Leo had simply said, “See you,” and, stopping only to assign guards to her rooms, he quickly left Guinbar.

Left by herself, Florrie had stood at the window for a while. Beyond the balcony that stretched out from the floor below the one she was on, she could see a group of riders lined up in a row. Leo, now bearing weapons, walked towards them, took a horse’s bit from a page, and swung himself into the saddle. He then gave an order, and in the blink of an eye, he and his group had vanished from Florrie’s sight.

There were times when Florrie Anglatt could not understand Leo.

One such occasion had been half a year ago, when she was told that “Lord Leo killed Hayden.”

Hayden was the person who had been going to take her back to Allion, by force if necessary. When she had heard that he was dead, she had been confused about her own feelings, unsure whether what she felt was surprise, relief, or something close to sadness.

Above all else, she found it impossible to image Leo Attiel fighting at the head of troops, and brandishing a sword towards Hayden.

That wasn’t the first time, however.

Take her father, for example, Claude Anglatt. Both his voice and his body frame were huge, and when he yelled harshly at his retainers or at his sons, his face was terrifying. Yet towards Florrie – and her alone – he was gentle and indulgent. It was instead her mother who was strict about her upbringing, and whenever Florrie was crying sadly because her mother had gotten angry over some small thing or another, Claude stealthily sneak up behind his daughter, and would hold her tight in his big arms.

“My beautiful princess, you’re always bringing happiness to everyone around you with your smiles and your songs, but today, it’s the princess herself who’s in a sad mood. I won’t go easy on anyone who makes you cry. When all’s said and done, I’m the strongest man in Allion, after all.”

When Claude said that, Florrie would sniffle and ask, “Stronger than Mother?”, whereupon, Claude would pretend to look terrified. They always had that conversation at times like that.

“What did you say!? So the one who made you cry – in other words, the person in the worst mood here – is Ellen? That explains why thunderclouds are swirling around the living room. Sorry, but she’s the one person I can’t go against. She’s stronger than me. And at the end of the day, her word is law in this house. So you’d better hurry and apologise quickly. If you say it with a cute expression, Ellen’s mood will immediately improve. The dark clouds will be blown away, and I won’t have to be afraid of my strongest foe. Everyone will be happy.”

When he was at home, her father was always laughing heartily, yet when he took part in war outside, he would plunge into groups of fully armoured soldiers and slaughter crowds of enemies – even though she knew it intellectually, she could never equate her father as he was at home with ‘the valiant Claude Anglatt’ of rumour.

It was much the same for her two older brothers. Even though they could sometimes be a bit mean, their expressions were gentle when they talked to Florrie, and she simply could not imagine them killing people if ever there was a war.

I suppose men have a different face when they’re outside from when they’re at home, was how Florrie saw it. Which was why she had intended to do her best to try and understand Leo. Yet that thought had now turned into : Leo has become a man. By which she meant that he now showed her a different face from the one he showed to others.

Even after the prince had disappeared from sight, Florrie did not leave the window. She lifted her hand towards her head and plucked out a single strand of hair, which she briefly brought to her lips before winding it around the little finger on her left hand.

It was one of the many good luck charms used by followers of the Badyne Faith. As long as the strand of hair remained coiled around their finger, a person who was precious to them would be protected from harm. Florrie’s mother had taught her many such charms.

Please let Leo stay safe – Florrie continued praying for a long time, holding her finger with the hair wound around it to her chest.

“Please be sure to make things up to Miss Florrie.”

Standing next to Lord Leo as he looked down on the villas from the hill, Percy Leegan, who had ridden with him, offered his advice. It was already the third such reminder.

“One day,” Leo’s reply was curt.

“When will ‘one day’ be?”

“War is coming. Percy, you know that too, right? From now on, things are just going to keep getting busier.”

Since Percy was being a bit too insistent, Leo was feeling petulant – He’s like an old man with the way he keeps making a fuss.

Wanting to ease the tense atmosphere before they started talking tactics, Leo launched a counter-attack.

“I’ve heard about that too.”

“About what?”

“That your fiancée is Lord Gimlé Gloucester’s daughter.”

“Indeed.”

“Sir Gimlé harshly criticised my father about sending reinforcements to Conscon, and I doubt he was pleased when I defeated Hayden. It wouldn’t be surprising if he was secretly linked to Darren.”

Percy’s expression turned serious.

Currently, there was nothing to indicate that Gimlé and Darren were linked in any way, and even when Darren publicly denounced the prince, Gimlé did not seem particularly interested in it – yet it was a fact that he was very unamused by the recent string of actions that the princely House had been taking. That particular piece of information came from Gimlé’s daughter, Liana, so it was certainly reliable. And, of course, given that Percy had joined Leo’s Personal Guards, the vassal-lord held no kind feelings for his daughter’s fiancé either.

How would Gimlé react when, on top of all of that, the Personal Guards clashed in combat with Darren?

“And you’ll be making it up to Miss Liana...?”

“One day,” replied Percy, deliberately maintaining a fastidious expression.

Leo laughed.

“Well then...” Since Percy had to go and take up position, he took leave of the prince. “Your Highness, I earnestly entreat you to be careful. Please do not forget that on the battlefield, there are many occasions when one has an equal chance of being branded a coward or lauded as a hero. The most important thing of all is to watch for opportunities and then make a decision.”

“I know.”

“Then, with that...” Percy had been about to say something further, but – It’ll just come across as tedious, he decided, and said nothing more.

When Percy left, he plucked a strand of his own hair and would it around one of his little fingers, but Leo was no longer looking in his direction.

When Percy left, he plucked a strand of his own hair and would it around one of his little fingers, but Leo was no longer looking in his direction.

He did not have fires lit, and the entire surroundings were gradually plunged into darkness. Several soldiers remained with him as bodyguards, but since they didn’t speak a single word of idle chatter, it was just as though Leo had been left behind, entirely on his own.

Leo continued to stand in silence, staring at the riverside that was now shrouded in shadows. At times like these, he was invariably haunted by a shadow that somehow resembled stagnant sludge. The questions that shadow threw at him were questions that Leo had also asked himself.

Where am I? What will I do? Who am I?

The surroundings were so quiet, enveloped as they were in the dusk that was lit only by a few stars, that the voice seemed to echo louder than usual.

War? What will you do if it comes to war? And what will you do once you are waging war?

He knew. He had known for a long time now that there was no turning back. He could not afford to indulge in hesitation for even a single second.

Now that things have started, questions like who I am are irrelevant. I am who I am right now.

And since I’m doing this...

You need to achieve sufficient results in battle. If you don’t, there would be no meaning to killing and being killed.

Leo once again shook off the sludge that resided within him, shaking his entire body as he did so.

The troop of Darren’s subordinates had arrived near the riverbank.

They did not carry any lights either, but the land was level and clear in the area near the villas, so the five hundred men easily reached where they were going. Before long, they started to divide themselves into several smaller units.

Only the soldiers in the lead carried torches and Leo, from the top of the hill, could follow the movements of the glowing red points of light.

The enemy believed that there was only a handful of soldiers here, and the only thing they were worried about was that Leo might escape from them. Which was why they used the classic strategy for cases like that: compared to the soldiers gathering by the river opposite the villa, they placed a greater number of men in a position to cut off the path of retreat from the residential area.

Naturally, Leo had predicted that they would do so, and he had thoroughly examined the lay of the land beforehand. The points of light were moving almost exactly according to the predictions he had made at the time.

While the enemy was on the move, a messenger came up to him.

“The soldiers have arrived,” he said.

The “soldiers” in question were none other than the Personal Guards which were supposed to have been sent to Conscon Temple. They had pretended to set off towards it, then took the first opportunity to change direction, and had arrived here by way of inconspicuous mountain paths.

“Do as planned,” was the only order Leo gave.

Maps indicating where they were to go were to be handed to each of the commanding officers. The six hundred soldiers moved swiftly and, just as Leo had hoped, messengers soon came running one after another to give their reports.

“The First Unit has completed its preparations.”

“The riflemen of the Second Unit have taken up position.”

“The Fifth Unit has completed its manoeuvres.”

“Good,” as soon as he knew that all of the units were ready, Leo had his men set fire to the pile of kindling which had been stacked up at the top of the hill. It was the signal for each of the Personal Guards to light torches of their own.

A commotion ran through Darren’s men when they saw the brilliant flames that were lit behind them. Did Lord Darren change his mind and send reinforcements? Many of them wondered for a moment.

The very next second, gunfire rained down upon them.

The main strength of Leo’s Personal Guards was that almost every man had guns.

The quiet surroundings were abruptly transformed as gunshots and smoke filled heaven and earth.

“E-Ene-Enemies!”

“They’re enemies!”

The confused and terrified voices of Darren’s soldiers surged from every direction. Of course they did – the men who had encircled the villa to prevent Leo from escaping suddenly found themselves encircled in turn, and the area around them was now filled with waves of hostility and killing intent.

No sooner had the gunfire abated than cavalrymen charged towards them. The small units that had intended to block Leo’s path of retreat now scattered. Darren’s men had not imagined for a second that armed soldiers would swoop down on them, shouting out battle cries, and so the ambushers effortlessly tore through them.

“Don’t panic! Return the attack!”

“Avoid further damage! Retreat, retreat!”

Contradictory orders flew, showing how badly they had lost their heads. With gunfire and gleaming spears closing in on them, every unit soon chose to fall back.

Aware of their disadvantage, the commander of Darren’s forces decided to abandon the encirclement and instead ordered all troops to gather in one place. In order to surround them, Leo’s forces were stretched out wide. Besides which, the commander quickly realised that our numbers are about the same as theirs.

Leo, still watching the movements from the top of the hill, quickly raised his hand. The soldiers who were by his side all immediately lit torches from the bonfire, and started waving them in unison.

While they were doing so, Leo made his preparations. He checked the armour he was wearing, then jumped onto a horse that a page had brought up to him.

Behind him, soldiers bearing swords and spears had gathered at some point. These were not the soldiers that the vassal-lords had assembled; these were the three hundred villagers that Leo had recruited and trained. Simply put, Leo had arranged it so that those of his guards who had at least some experience would surround the enemy then, when they had driven them away from their various positions, his most inexperienced soldiers would be given the task of charging at the opponent.

Equally on horseback, Kuon lined himself next to Leo. Up until then, he had constantly seemed to be chomping at the bit, but now, his eyes were shining.

“Just as promised,” Leo said to him. “I’ve arranged a suitable opportunity for you to earn your first achievement.”

“Yeah!” the boy from the mountain lands shouted, so fired up that his real nature was laid bare.

After receiving the signal from the torches, the actions taken by the Personal Guards changed. Near the river’s shallows, they deliberately left an opening in the encircling net. The enemy braced themselves and charge through it, but Leo and his men were already galloping down the hillside to catch them in a head-on ambush.

The gunshots continued, causing loud splashes of water and sprays of blood. Next –

“Cut them down,” Leo urged his horse forward as he yelled.

The Personal Guards quickly closed the gap in the net that they had earlier left open. The enemy was caught in a two-pronged attack, coming from both riverbanks.

“Don’t waver, don’t hesitate!” One of the enemies repeatedly called out from the middle of the river. “Advance, advance, advance!”

When he saw that, Kuon leaped from his horse, ran forward, and jumped into the water. He cut his way past an enemy soldier, then past a second one and, while the rest were still reeling in surprise, he drew up towards the man who seemed to be the enemy commander.

“You little shrimp...”

Those were the only words that the enemy commander managed to say after spotting the figure approaching towards him.

Kuon forcefully pushed forward, bumping against the horse as he did so. He nimbly swung his longsword diagonally towards the his foe, and struck him in the neck.

Leo’s Personal Guards had been motley group of soldiers and, even now, it would be hard to say that they excelled at coordination.

When thinking back on it, Leo had a lot of things to regretted, such as points he should have worked out in more detail before they launched the operation, or ways of improving the timing of command. Still, in the end, the single most useful element proved to have been his prior survey of the terrain and, if one only took the results into account, they were able to rout the enemy with very little damage to their own side.

Leo had poured nearly the entire the military strength he could mobilise into this battle.

If it had just been a case of driving away enemies disguised as marauders, he could have held more of them back in reserve but, as I explained earlier, the Personal Guards were soldiers who had been gathered from all over. Their origins were equally varied. While some were the vassals of noble families, others, like the ones Leo had personally recruited, had never held a weapon before. There was also a difference in their degree of enthusiasm. On the one hand, there were those who zealously wished to repay the favour of having been appointed, while on the other, the soldiers who had been offered up by the reluctant vassal-lords did not have a shred of interest in their present surroundings.

Which was why Leo had wanted them to stand together on this battlefield, where they could obtain an almost flawless victory, and to give them the chance to build up a sense of being part of the same troop.

I see, Percy thought admiringly as he looked in turn at all of the soldiers' faces.

Previously, they had stayed at the same barracks, slept under the same roof, and joined in the same training, but it appeared that fighting side-by-side just once was far more effective than living together for any number of days had been. Soldiers from different areas clapped each other on the shoulder, boasted about their own achievements, or mutually congratulated each other on their success in the fight.

But the problem is going to be what comes next...

Percy was worried. Although this time, everyone had been able to band together against a group of marauders who were targeting Leo's life, the next person who would be aiming to kill him would probably be Darren Actica, one of Atall's vassal-lords. Among the soldiers who had come from other areas, there were sure to be some who would become agitated.

We're going to be taking on nobles from Atall?

Does the prince also intend to bring the fighting to our native region?

Not only would it lower the troops' morale, but there were sure to be men who would desert the unit.

Percy had talked about the problem with Leo several times before the beginning of this fight.

“We need to make the marauders confess that Darren is behind them and is pulling the strings.” He and Leo both agreed on this. Which was also why it had been crucial to gather most of the Personal Guards in one place.

But we don't have that much time. If we take too long about it, the soldiers who managed to escape will join up with Darren.

While Percy was lost in his own thoughts, Leo dismounted from his horse.

“Everyone, quiet down. Bring me the captured soldiers.”

At his words, the ecstatic guards fell silent, and the enemy soldiers who had surrendered after being unable to escape were brought to stand in a row before him, their hands tied behind their back.

Standing behind Leo, Percy Leegan checked to make sure that the other guards came over to see what was starting up. Earlier, he had casually placed his men in all the various units, and had told them beforehand to gather together at this point.

Once he was sure that a crowd had assembled, Leo Attiel thrust his sword at the first man in the line of 'marauders'. During the battle, Leo had inflicted deep wounds on three opponents, so the tip of his blade was covered in blood.

“Who are you? Why were you targeting me?” He demanded, his breathing ragged.

“Ha!” jeered the soldier who was the head of the row despite being seriously injured from a bullet wound to the stomach. The scornful smile on his pallid face came from the fact that Leo's voice had none of the strength of a person making threats.

“I don't anything about you. I just got talked into a nice-sounding scheme to make some easy money. These fancy houses are packed with treasure, right?”

With his unshaven and slightly grimy face, the man really did look like the marauder he was pretending to be. The Personal Guards who were watching the scene angrily raised their voices.

“I see,” said Leo.

─ Back when more of Darren's soldiers had been causing mayhem in Savan's quarry, Leo had decided that he would face those soldiers as his 'first campaign'. He had taken several days to both work out a plan and steel his own resolve. He needed to mentally prepare himself before standing on the battlefield for the first time in his life. The situation now was similar to that one, and Leo had already pictured this scene for several days now.

Do it without hesitating, he repeatedly told himself.

And now the time had come.

“I see,” he said again.

The next moment, Percy, standing beside him, opened his eyes wide in shock. Leo had drawn his sword back until it was above his own shoulder then, without the slightest hesitation, he had cut through the soldier's neck.

The strike had been shallow. The man staggered and collapsed, clutching his neck as he writhed in agony. With his foot on the man's shoulder, Leo pierced him from above with his blade. The soldier's movement suddenly came to a stop.

“Next,” said Leo, and another enemy soldier was pushed out before him. He asked him the same question.

“I-I don't know. It's true!” The soldier pleaded with tears in his eyes. “Please believe me. There was a guy who came to us with this offer. If you find him...”

It also ended in the same way. The only difference was that this time, Leo gave three strokes of his sword. The first cut was to the man’s leg, the second was to his face, and the third was finally the killing blow.

Your Highness – Percy tried to call out, but couldn’t. Leo’s face, covered in the blood of his victims, was almost like a demon’s.

“Next,” said Leo.

And a third man met the same fate.

The soldier who was pushed forward when he once more called out “next,” was trembling from the start. Leo no longer asked his question, and silently raised his sword. The still-youthful soldier opened his eyes wide, his gaze riveted to the bloody blade.

“W-Wait... Please wait!”

The one who cried out was not the young soldier. One of the older soldiers came crawling on his knees from the line of captives, and tumbled at Leo’s feet.

“H-He’s my only son. Have mercy... I mean, please have mercy, Your Highness Leo!”

“I don’t recall having introduced myself as Prince Leo. My flag was not flown. Which means that you did know who you were attacking, doesn’t it?”

In a quivering voice, the older soldier confessed that they were soldiers fighting under Darren’s banner. He also told how, after killing Leo, they were supposed to attack Guinbar.

That was all Leo needed to hear and returned the sword to his waist.

“We’ll take a few of them with us. Leave the other ones here, but don’t untie their ropes.” After issuing that order, he gave a second one, “Gather at once at the foot of the hill.”

Everyone hastily obeyed. The expressions on the soldiers’ faces held a greater sense of urgency than they had ever shown before. That was no doubt partly due to their astonishment at hearing Darren’s name, but also partly to the shock of the scene they had just witnessed.

Regarding the latter, Percy felt the same way. Nevertheless, he went to his horse without letting anything show. Yet his hands as he took hold of his saddle were nearly shaking.

After making sure that everyone was going, Lord Leo once again climbed astride his horse. Suddenly, however, as though he had changed his mind about something, he jumped back down to the ground.

“Percy, Percy!” He called the name twice.

His voice sounded so desperate that Percy rushed over in surprise. Meanwhile, Leo had, for some reason, started running towards a thicket of trees.

“Please watch behind...” even as he spoke, he crouched down to the ground. Leo’s back heaved and there was a retching sound, like a frog croaking in his throat.

Ah, that’s it – Percy understood.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is His Highness unwell?”

Several soldiers started to approach the thicket, but Percy stopped with a wave of his hand.

“It’s a confidential conversation. You can’t come.”

Behind where Percy was standing guard, Leo continued to throw up, keeping the noise as quiet as he could.

Lord Leo had already gone through his first campaign, and he had also killed Hayden Swift with his own two hands. However, it was one thing to kill an enemy in the heat of battle, but this was, of course, the first time he had swung his sword at someone who was not resisting, ad doing so repeatedly, tearing through their skin, crushing their bones, piercing their organs.

Several minutes passed as Percy remained standing where he was.

“I’m fine now, thanks,” Leo stood up and walked up to Percy’s side. His face was calm, and he seemed about to walk back to his horse and once more take the bit from the page.

Percy called out to him from behind,

“Your Highness, for the blood,” he held out a cloth.

Leo took it expressionlessly and wiped the blood from the enemy soldiers from his face – or at least he pretended to: it was actually the contours of his lips that he was wiping clean.

“I intended to kill them in a single blow,” he said as he was doing so.

“Aye.”

“But I failed. And then I realised that the other captives were afraid. That’s why...”

“I understand,” Percy nodded.

Actually, he didn’t understand. But as the prince made excuses for his actions, Percy managed to hold back his agitated feelings.

“In the future...”

“Yes?”

“I mustn’t put family members in the same unit. That’s what happens when you do.”

What he meant by ‘that’ was probably having a father freely give information as he pleaded for his son’s life.

Leo flung himself atop his horse. When Percy caught a glimpse of his profile, Lord Leo was just as he always was.

Horrifying, thought Percy as he too flung himself into the saddle and urged his horse forward, following after Leo.

War is horrifying. And so is the position of leader in war.

Part 3

Darren Actica’s domain had been known as the Dharam region since long ago. It had once belonged to the ruling family, but it was officially awarded to the Ruband House – an experienced military family which had been put in charge of Dharam Castle – in recognition of an unparalleled achievement that they had accomplished. It was also at that time that the principality was cleanly divided into the domains of the sovereign-prince to the north, and the fiefs of the vassal-lords in the south, the two being separated by the Iron Chain, a mountain range that ran straight through the centre of the country. The seventh head of the Ruband family indulged in dissipation and debauchery, bringing his House to ruin, and it was the Actica House, a branch family of the Rubands, who inherited the domain.

Within the principality, it was a region known for its rich harvests. As it was also situated roughly at the centre of the country, large market towns had easily established themselves at the heart of the trade routes, and as the grain-producing area also faced a river, the region quickly gained wealth. It was simply because Darren had the financial means to employ large numbers of mercenaries whenever necessary that he was able to oust the previous sovereign-prince.

Right now, that same Darren had only been able to mutter “Impossible...” before finding himself at a loss for words.

It was around midnight, and he was on horseback. After sending troops for the surprise attack on the holiday villas, Darren Actica had climbed into the saddle so as to personally take part in capturing Guinbar.

His hobby was hunting, but he had not organised a hunt since the death of his oldest son, Togo, and throwing himself onto a horse, and grasping sword and bow again after so long had left him feeling exhilarated.

I’ll thrust this sword at Savan’s grey head.

His blood grew heated at the thought.

He had been waiting impatiently for the report that ‘Lord Leo has been killed’, yet those who rushed to find him were not only messengers, but also several dozen soldiers, all of them wounded and staggering as they walked. The report they brought was that Lord Leo’s assassination had failed, that their commander had been killed in action, and that they had also lost over a third of their numbers.

At first, Darren was left speechless, but then, his armour-clad body started to tremble violently. This was the second time that he had been caught out, and he was by now truly afraid of the man called Leo Attiel.

“Retreat!”

All Darren could do was utter that single word, and return to his castle. On the way, he was constantly worried about what was at his back.

Given that Lord Leo had laid an ambush to turn the tables on Darren’s forces and encircle them, he must naturally know who the ringleader was, and what actions he, Darren, had been taking.

Then what will the prince’s next move be?

Would he strengthen Guinbar’s defence, or would he meet up with Savan’s troops and attack Darren’s territory?

No, that’s impossible. Even a prince wouldn’t be able to invade a domain within our own country without first consulting the sovereign-prince. So in the meantime, I need to come up with a new plan.

He arrived back at his castle. It was called Olt Rose, and was said to have been named after the lover of one of the heads of the Ruband family. He had been going to remove his armour as soon as he entered, but before he could do so, a soldier who had been sent out on patrol came tumbling in before him.

“The prince’s troops have broken into our territory!” He announced, in a voice so high-pitched it was almost a squeak. They numbered approximately six hundred. What Darren had thought impossible had become real.

They had moved fast. In what had virtually been a night attack, Leo had captured the fortress on the border of Darren’s territory. Most of the troops which had originally been stationed there had been called up for the assault on Guinbar. The remaining soldiers had never dreamed that Lord Leo would be attacking them, so there had been virtually no fighting, as they had surrendered at the first sound of warning shots from the enemy cannons.

Continuing northwards, Leo’s forces had also taken a fort that was governed by one of Darren’s relatives. For all that it was a castle, it was on open ground; since it only had jurisdiction over the neighbouring villages, the building was not large, and had no more than twenty or so soldiers guarding it. There was no way they could oppose Leo’s Personal Guards, who were charging towards them with cannons and guns.

The prince had waited at the castle for the three hundred men in his rear guard, before setting off once more with a troop of six hundred. And so it was that Leo was approaching Olt Rose Castle, with his soldiers mostly unharmed.

“T-That bastard! He can’t possibly be planning to put to the torch the territory of a vassal to the ruling House? That devil’s spawn is finally revealing his true nature!”

Darren hit the gorgeously-made table before him. Normally, he should have broken into Guinbar Castle by now; at around about this time, Savan, the man who had harmed his son, was supposed to have been driven into a corner, and Darren should have been gloating down at him. Yet in reality, it was Darren who had been driven back against a wall by those who had destroyed his son.

How can something this absurd be...

Fortunately, the troops which had been meant to capture Guinbar had all been led to Olt Rose Castle. Although they had fewer cannons and guns, Darren’s side had more soldiers.

With Leo’s forces drawing closer and closer, it was time to make a decision. Should they face them in open battle, or should they prepare for a siege?

In those days, the warrior code was strongly entrenched and held that, “Since we outnumber them, we should attack them head on, not sneakily hole ourselves up.”

The people of Atall had very little experience with war and yet – or, no, perhaps it was because they were not used to it – many of their men were mesmerised by those warrior values, and the soldiers were beating their spears against their shields, insisting that they should launch themselves against the enemy.

Foremost among them was Dingo Actica, Darren’s second son. The desire to avenge his brother burned just as fiercely within him as it did in his father. He was only twenty years old, but he was built along the same burly lines as his father and brother, and, again just like them, he had gone as a marauder to lay waste to other territories. With his teeth bared as he yelled, he cut an impressive figure.

“Father, our enemies aren’t mercenaries – half of them are just peasants and traders. We should boldly sally forward and overpower them head-on.”

Yet Darren did not give his consent. He had felt the sting of his previous lessons, and had learned that you can’t make light of Leo.

He simply placed riflemen along the outer ramparts of the town, then firmly closed the gates and gave every sign that he was readying himself for a siege. At the same time, he sent a messenger post-haste to Tiwana, the capital, with a request for Sovereign-Prince Magrid to intervene. The way he saw it, Leo can’t have gotten Magrid’s permission to get rid of me.

Which meant that Leo had, once again, acted on nothing but his own judgement. Ever since the incident at Conscon, the sovereign-prince must surely be nervous about what Leo might do, and if he was informed of the circumstances, he would probably bring his son under control.

“If I make my excuses convincing enough, the prince who ‘arbitrarily invaded a vassal’s territory’ will lose all trust. I’ll be able to have his Personal Guards taken away. And... right, if Leo’s falls from his hero’s pedestal, then Savan, who is so strongly tied to him, will also be brought down.”

That was how Darren justified himself to his son and to his vassals.

“We only have to wait, and not only will Leo self-destruct, he’ll also provide us with plenty of excuses for invading Guinbar. There’s absolutely no reason to get impatient at this point.”

The next day, he managed to persuade his vassals, and they agreed on a siege.

Another unexpected event occurred, although this time, it was a fortunate one for Darren. When they had arrived before the ramparts of the town of Olt Rose, Leo’s troops had assumed that Darren’s forces would charge out to fight them, and so they had taken up position to the south of the walls.

It was close to dawn when they were attacked by surprise. Right, not ‘Leo attacked by surprise’, but ‘Leo was attacked by surprise’.

The prince had set up camp to the south. The roads along the gently-sloping hills were bathed in the pale light of dawn when, all of a sudden, that light was covered in dark shadows. Upon closer inspection, the shadow turned out to be men on horseback, drawing closer to Leo’s camp while the sound of their horses’ hooves rang out.

When the soldiers standing sentry raised their voices to sound the alarm, their heads were cut off. The enemies were fast. Leo’s men desperately tried to fight back, shouting to wake their companions as they did so. The riders flung their lit torches in every direction, and many of the tents caught fire.

Leo was also pulled out of sleep, but by the time he had gone out to take command, the group of riders had already picked out an archery unit, and vanished. They were as swift as a gust of wind.

They left behind them three dead, and five who were too seriously wounded to be able to move. Moreover, some of their provisions had been burned.

While fires burned within the camp, a group of bowmen, thought to be allies to the riders, had lined up in formation before anyone had time to notice them, and released their arrows into Leo's base.

This was clearly an outside attack, but nobody could figure out where on earth they came from. Leo had naturally placed guards on watch-out in the area around the camp, so just how skilled must the enemy be to have easily slipped through that net of sentries?

The next evening, the same thing happened again.

The camp’s defence was a lot tighter than it had been the previous night, but the enemy concentrated on attacking at a single point, and easily ploughed their way through to Leo’s headquarters.

Unlike the previous night, he had arranged for riflemen to be on duty in shifts, yet the enemy seemed to have perfectly seen through that as well. The riders in the lead were pulling carts, and the instant that Leo’s side opened fire, they jumped from their horses and set fire to the hay inside the wagons. They then struck the horses’ rumps, and directed them towards the camp.

A second group of riders appeared, with bowmen riding pillion and, just like the night before, a hail of arrows rained down.

The billowing smoke dulled the aim of the riflemen and, despite the threat from fire and arrows, riders came charging in, and once again brought chaos to the camp. At about the same time, the guards that the riders had previously broken through came racing towards the camp in a mass, and immediately tried to chase the enemies down.

“Fools. Do you think you’ve outmanoeuvred us? Those guys actually believe we’d fall for a pincer movement, huh?”

The second wave of attack started up. A detached enemy force which had been lying in wait further back had been waiting for the moment when the guards would turn their back on them. Given the situation, a pincer attack was no longer feasible for those on Leo's side.

While the guards were thrown into confusion, the first wave of troops made a leisurely exit, and the detached force soon followed suit. They had been fast both when attacking and when pulling back. What they left behind them was soldiers in agony, voices crying out the names of those who had been pierced by arrows, and brightly burning fires.

“Damn it!” shouted Leo, violently flinging down the helmet that he had just been about to put on.

This was the second time they had been had by the enemy. Thinking that those in the castle might seize the opportunity to open the town gates, Percy, Camus and Kuon had strengthened the defence at the front, and had ordered most of the soldiers to stay awake, but, in the end, there was no more movement before dawn. All it did was increase the soldiers’ fatigue.

Leo summoned Percy and the others early in the morning.

“Did Darren pretend to hunker down in his castle for a siege, while actually having forces hidden in the surroundings?” Leo suggested a first analysis, but Percy disagreed.

“The troops that attacked us were the best of the best; and I don’t see how Darren could have hired people that good in so little time.”

The assailants excelled at handling their horses. While there weren’t that many of them, and although they had seemed to charge headlong in, their movements when they were disrupting the camp were coordinated, and when the time had come to retreat, they had turned their horses around with impressive speed.

There weren’t that many highly-skilled horsemen in Atall, so they were probably marauders or mercenaries who were used to setting towns and villages ablaze. And among them, there was only a very limited number who could boast of such outstanding abilities...

“It’s probably Lance Mazpotter,” Percy suggested a name.

“Who’s that?” asked Camus. There was an irritated crease running down the centre of his forehead, and he had hardly slept since the previous evening.

“He’s the leader of well-known band of marauders here in Atall. He’d recently been keeping quiet, but...” According to Percy, the man had been born in Atall, but when he was young, he had apparently been a pirate and a bandit who had laid waste in the northern coastal countries. Towards the end of his twenties, he had returned to the principality and taken up trade as a marauder. He was skilled with a sword and proficient in strategies that made use of horses, so his considerable talents had been sought by any number of territories. By the very nature of the marauders’ trade, it was often difficult to know who their employers were at any given time.

“A little while ago, there was a rumour or two that he had recently been spotted at Oswell Taholin’s castle.”

“Oswell, is it?” Leo ground his teeth.

They had met face-to-face during the banquet. Oswell Taholin was the only one of the vassal-lords who had argued that the sovereign-king should send reinforcements to Conscon Temple. Yet when Allion had sent an envoy, his attitude had been that he knew nothing of Conscon, and after that, he had not said anything further on the matter. Ever since then, Leo had found him strangely suspicious.

“So basically, he’s secretly connected to Darren?” Camus’ indignant words were ones that Leo agreed with.

As a result of their council of war, Leo decided to move their camp.

The river that flowed through the centre of the castle town became wider to the southwest of the ramparts. Although not on a scale that you could call it a forest, there were trees growing on the south bank. With the river behind them and the trees to defend them against another surprise charge from the riders, Leo had his men take up position again. The ground dipped slightly, so in all honesty, it wasn’t the best place for observing or intercepting an enemy, but it was far better than staying out in the open in front of the castle town.

“How are we going to take the castle from here?” Kuon voiced his displeasure. This passive attitude of having to helplessly wait for the enemy to make their move was sure to get under his skin.

“We've got cannons. We could just blow holes through the walls.”

“We want to avoid harming the town as much as possible. When we took our previous position right in front of it, it was to deliberately lure the enemy out,” explained Percy, but even so, it was originally only supposed to be for three days.

The reason for that was not so much that they were granting Darren a three-day grace, but because they were intending to spread rumours that, “even though Darren has a greater number of soldiers, he is a coward who would not come out to fight, and his lack of character caused the town to suffer needless damage.”

Their aim had been to change the target of criticism within the town, by turning it away from Leo and towards Darren instead. So because of that, these surprise attacks were a very serious blow to Leo's side. Moving the camp's position seemed like a definite sign of weakness but, understandably enough, Leo could not think of any alternative.

Part 4

“So it’s Lance Mazpotter.”

That was a name that even Darren had heard before.

A messenger from Lance had circumvented Leo’s camp to enter Olt Rose Castle. The excitement was at fever pitch inside the castle when they learned that Lance had twice hindered Leo’s troops by attacking them.

Here were unexpected reinforcements.

According to the messenger, their unit had, on Oswell's orders, gone to lend a hand in capturing Guinbar, but when Lance heard that the situation had reversed, and that Leo was attacking Darren instead, he had immediately altered his plans, and had decided to cut through Leo's troops from behind.

That's Oswell for you. Definitely a guy worth using.

While maintaining an outwardly calm expression, Darren was inwardly considerably relieved.

He had been dreading that Leo might mount a surprise attack from some unknown direction, and that any carelessness on his part would lead to castle town being invaded. Thanks to this, however, he could stall for time far more easily than he had expected.

But still...

Frankly speaking, Darren did not like this messenger who had come from Lance. His bare arms were crossed in front of his worn-out chest armour, and even though he was before an Atallese noble, he did not show the slightest sign of courtesy. Although his moustache was neatly trimmed, he wore his hair long and had it tied back in a bunch behind his head. As he also wore an eye patch over his left eye, he truly looked like a mountain bandit.

I guess this just goes to show what kind of origins his 'leader' Lance comes from...

Even so, these were unmistakably valuable reinforcements, and Darren did his best to act amiably.

“Please convey my thanks to Sir Oswell. To Sir Lance as well.”

“I'll tell 'em.”

The messenger had helped himself uninvited to a piece of fruit from the tray placed on the table, and he made his answer while bringing it to his mouth. Although Darren had a hard time swallowing his anger, this turn of events had bolstered the spirit of Olt Rose's soldiers far beyond anything that he had hoped for.

These were originally men who had been enthusiastic about setting another territory to the torch, and they almost seemed to be slobbering like stray dogs waiting for food.

“We should seize this chance to launch our offensive,” they kept insisting one-by-one.

The leader of the movement was once again Darren's son, Dingo, yet Darren shook his head at the suggestion.

“Don't make light of Leo.”

“I am not suggesting we kill him here and now,” Dingo's face was red, “but instead of waiting for the sovereign-prince to mediate, if we strike a hard blow against the prince and drive him away with our own strength, then afterwards, we'll be able to take a stronger attitude towards the princely house. And those within our domains who view Leo as a hero will wake up to reality.”

His father fell silent despite himself. Certainly, relying on the sovereign-prince to help him would affect Darren's reputation: even if he was able to socially destroy the prince, he might lose the ability to coerce the ruling house itself.

“Father, we won’t chase them too far. Please give your permission,” Dingo asked insistently.

Darren hesitated, but he was a man whose power and influence had long been a match for the ruling family’s; he was not used to reigning himself in at the last moment like this. And then, there was also that information about how Leo had moved camp – it was obvious that he had done so as a precaution and out of fear of Lance’s attacks.

If we attack them now... the thought took root in Darren’s mind.

He granted his son permission.

With unconcealed delight, Dingo went to wait on standby by the gate with seven hundred men. There was a risk that Leo might get impatient and lead an onslaught against the castle town first, but Dingo was determined to fling open the gates and ride out to fight if that happened.

As soon as he saw an opportunity, the quick-witted Lance would definitely attack from behind with his cavalry troops. Those new models of guns and cannons that Leo’s men were equipped with would become useless once the fight turned into confused close-quarter combat.

Early in the morning, two days after the second surprise attack, riders launched an assault on Leo’s camp for the third time.

They struck from the southern direction. Since Leo’s side had taken position on low ground, it was ideal for a cavalry attack, and the riders swooped down the slope.

Leo, however, was naturally not just sitting there helplessly: riflemen had been placed between the trees growing south of the camp, and they were ready for the riders. Cannons also belched out fire, and the projectiles crashed into trees even further south. Several cavalrymen fell.

A group of soldiers stood waiting to intercept the remaining riders, their spears at the ready.

At about that same time –

“Open the gates!” Dingo Actica roared, and his troops launched themselves out from the gates of the castle town.

The charge was timed to match with Lance’s cavalry attack. The first to leave was the central column, which consisted mostly of mercenaries. They headed straight towards Leo’s camp, which of course now found itself forced to deal with them.

Although they looked like they had dashed out without preparation, a second unit followed right behind Dingo’s central column. This was the left wing, centred around its cavalrymen, which made use of its speed to quickly flank Leo’s interception unit, which was now surrounded.

Meanwhile, the right wing, which Dingo led in person, started to move along the river. Leo’s attention was occupied by Lance’s attack, and he failed to grasp how the army which had left the castle town was manoeuvring as a whole. Leo’s troops were lured in by the central column and the left wing, leaving their encampment insufficiently defended.

As a result, Dingo’s group was easily able to break through the camp’s outer guards. With the cannons immobilised in the south, there was no risk of cannonballs falling towards them.

At around that same time, Lance’s riders, who had led the initial charge, brought their first attack to an end and altered their course. Although they had taken damage from the riflemen and cannons, their cooperation was unimpaired as they briskly commenced their retreat.

Leo’s cavalrymen gave chase.

“Don’t let them escape!”

“Kill them!”

Their angry bellows echoed from every direction. And there were many of them.

Or rather – there were too many of them.

They could finally give vent to their fury over Lance’s repeated attacks, and that spurred them on so strongly that they forgot to look back towards the encampment behind them. Which meant that they had been lured away by Lance’s troops.

This made things even easier for Dingo’s unit, which was edging up towards the enemy camp. They continued onwards, while the soldiers set fire to the simple watchtowers, and either demolished the perfunctory abatis placed around the camp, or avoided them altogether.

When Dingo’s group came crashing into the camp, the soldiers who had stayed by Leo’s side ran away, screaming.

“What ‘Personal Guards’? What ‘hero’?” Dingo roared with laughter from horseback. “You might have defeated Allion’s forces, but your luck ran out when you made an enemy of House Actica! Lord Leo, come on out! I’m a generous warrior: I’ll fight you in single combat.”

One after another, he cut down the flags with the emblems of the ruling House and of the Cross Faith, whose presence indicated that these were the troop headquarters.

Dingo’s group pushed its way in even further before suddenly realising something: they had expected there to be very few soldiers at the headquarters since they had lured the enemy away from the camp – but there were too few soldiers around. In fact, the place was practically empty.

By the time Dingo’s expression had changed because of the realisation, it was already too late.

There was the roar of cannon fire, and earth went flying, mixed in with the blood and flesh of men and horses, spraying their entire surroundings. The shots continued to rain down on them, uninterrupted.

Dingo was shaken from the saddle, and fell to the ground. As a result, his collapsed horse served as a shield against the storm of bullets, but it would be hard to say that luck was on his side. Simply said, it was Leo who had successfully lured the enemy.

After the first surprise attack, Kuon – who excelled at night-time espionage – had been ordered to lurk in the area around Olt Rose’s castle town. Percy and Camus’ prediction was that if this attack corps was Lance’s group which had been sent by Oswell, then, without a doubt, there would come a time when they would act together with those from inside the castle.

And Kuon had commendably managed to detect a person surreptitiously slipping into the castle area under cover of night. His night-vision was impressive, and there was no doubt that the one he had seen was a messenger from Lance’s troops.

They’ll work together to attack us from both sides – was Leo’s guess. Basing himself on that reading of the situation, he had drawn up a strategy to entice the enemy into his headquarters.

He had his troops pretend to take the enemy’s bait and all but desert the camp, then waited to launch an assault on their assailants’ core force. The cannons had been aimed towards where the ruling House’s flags were planted, and they were set off as the enemy approached them.

But then, where was Leo Attiel at that moment?

He was leading the group which was chasing after Lance’s cavalry unit. Although... the ‘chasing’ was no more than a pretence, aimed at emptying the camp.

He was wholly focused on galloping forward until he heard the roar of artillery that blew apart Dingo’s group. At that signal, Leo called out to his men and turned his horse around. Along with his two hundred riders, he started to charge.

Ahead of them was the first interception unit. Since they were in a defenceless forward position, they were surrounded by the enemy’s central column and left wing, but that unit’s role was precisely to keep those two forces immobilised.

They had essentially been given the most dangerous duty. If they had been annihilated in a short time, the entire strategy would have collapsed at that point. Which was why the elite fighters that were Percy, Camus and Kuon had been included within that unit.

Each of them fought hard.

Percy and Camus excelled with the spear.

When they had headed out to intercept the enemy, Kuon’s unit had deliberately fallen behind, allowing them to flank the opposing troops which had eagerly started their encirclement, come up behind them, and scatter the enemy’s attention with their manoeuvre. For all that they were highly skilled, Percy and Camus were still unused to group combat, so this was not a trick that they could have attempted.

It paid off, and they were able to hold out astoundingly well.

Just when Darren’s soldiers were losing their cool, Leo’s cavalry unit attacked the left wing from behind. Darren’s side did not have the mental preparedness for that, and so neither did they have much persistence. Carried by the momentum of Leo’s unit coming to the rescue, the interception troop once again went on the offensive – the mercenary-based central column was the first to start pulling back, and when their centre collapsed, the left wing gradually lost its will to fight.

When messengers came hurrying with further news of how the right wing had been routed, and how Dingo had to be carried back to the castle, carried on his companions’ shoulders, there was clearly no longer any way of winning, and Darren’s men all started running back to the castle town.

Darren’s face had turned ashen when he saw his blood-covered second son being carried in to the castle area, and although many of his men were still outside, he ordered that the gates be shut, not only to the castle, but also to the town. Finding themselves locked out, most of the mercenaries considered fleeing, then fell to their knees on the spot, and begged for mercy.

Good.

Leo Attiel slowed his horse’s pace, and breathed a sigh of relief beneath his helmet. For now, things were going according to plan.

He sent messengers again to every one of the units, and, by noon, they had set up formation right outside the main gates. The cannons had also been hauled over, and were aimed at the town’s walls.

They had intended to ride the momentum and break in, but, as though to chip away at their spirits, Lance’s cavalry corps launched an attack on them. Platoons of two or three hundred men rushed towards them again and again.

At noon, they came from the south then, just half an hour later, it was from the east. Another hour and a half later, it was from the west, even though the river should have been in their way. It was clear that they had made the considerable detour to avoid it, but it still gave the impression they had appeared as though by magic, since the cooperation between the platoons was so perfect that they almost seemed able to time each other’s breathing.

Taken individually, none of these were large-scale attacks, but since Leo’s side was not numerous enough to surround the castle, they were forced to rush to repel them each time.

When Darren’s soldiers, who had taken refuge back in the town, saw that Leo had run into an unexpected problem, they rallied once more, and started shooting from above the ramparts while infantrymen left from another gate to create a diversion.

From the outset, Leo’s side had never had the numbers to topple the castle. Leo had nevertheless made the attempt by relying on their superior speed and equipment, as well as on their fully-loaded cannons, which would serve as siege weapons. However, Lance’s intervention had outdone theirs in terms of ‘speed’, crushing Leo’s optimistic hopes.

The battle which had begun in the early morning had continued throughout the afternoon, and showed no signs of ending even when evening was drawing close. The people of the castle town were certainly terrified of the fighting, and they had locked themselves up in storehouses and cellars, trembling as they huddled close together. There were even some who had put boats out on the river, and made their escape northwards.

The time for Leo’s plan to succeed had long since passed. Yet even so, Leo Attiel was not going to call back his troops.

“Your Highness!”

Percy knelt down beside Leo beneath the dark red sky. The face under his helmet was covered in sweat, and his armour’s breastplate was stained with dark blood from those he had killed.

“Our units are reaching a level of damage that we cannot ignore anymore.”

“...”

“I deeply apologise ─ our strength was unable to live up to your expectations, Your Highness. For now, let us retreat.”

Sitting on horseback, Leo Attiel removed his helmet.He seemed about to fling it to the ground again, but then immediately changed his mind and placed it back on his head.

He could hear birds making a racket by the side of the river. They must be swarming because of the blood and flesh splattered about by the cannonballs.

“Withdraw,” Leo cried out. “We withdraw!”

While leading the movement, Leo glanced up towards the heavens. Dark black clouds seemed to be pulsating in the blood-red sky.

He ground his teeth.

They had obtained victory after victory. Yet in the end, the soldiers up on the ramparts were the ones shouting out triumphantly, and hurling abuse as they watched his soldiers leave.

He had lost.