"Then we will begin the war council."
The next day, Lucian was summoned once again by order of the First Prince.
The previous day, they had merely set the overall course of action before dispersing.
Now that the policy had been decided, it was time to draw up concrete operational plans.
"Please look at the map. As you can see, there is nothing along the route to the first fortress. For a while, we should be able to advance quickly without worrying about enemy attacks."
Jürgen, one of the First Prince's close aides, spoke as he pointed at the map.
Just as he said, the road ahead was exceedingly flat.
There were no wide rivers, no forests ideal for ambushes, not even rugged mountainous terrain that would be difficult to traverse.
Only scattered rural villages, displaced toward the borderlands, dotted the area.
"Since ancient times, the outskirts of Krepfeld have been open plains with no geographical advantages, which is why not a single fortress has been built there. They're hard to defend, easy to seize, and simple to bypass."
"So you're saying it's land they've effectively abandoned."
"Yes. Meaningful resistance will only begin after we reach the first fortress, Bodiam. If we advance quickly, it should take about five days."
Unlike the borderlands, Bodiam was a castle that could be called a natural fortress.
Even compared to Bornholm, where Lucian had previously been dispatched, it did not fall short.
Even if multiple siege engines were brought to bear, it would not be easy to take.
However, the allied army happened to possess a secret weapon brought from the royal family.
"When it comes time to assault the fortress, His Excellency Blasker, an imperial court mage, will take the field together with his five disciples. No matter how impregnable it may be, it won't withstand Lord Blasker's magic."
"Hm. I alone would find it difficult, but with my disciples, it should be well within our capabilities."
The one who replied to Jürgen was an elderly mage with a stern, cantankerous air about him.
The dark crimson robe he wore and his sharply arched eyebrows seemed to speak volumes about his temperament.
At the name Blasker, Lucian's eyes lit up as he looked at the mage.
Blasker Linveil. To think I'd see the famed head of the Pyromancy School with my own eyes.
Though he was one of the few officially recognized heads of magical schools in the Empire, he was an eccentric rarity among mages in that he possessed genuine loyalty to the imperial family.
A grand mage who, on the eve of the fall of the imperial capital, sacrificed his own life force to turn nearly two thousand soldiers to ash and save the Emperor.
By the time Lucian was active as a mercenary on the battlefield, he was already regarded as something of a living legend.
If even half the rumors are true, smashing down a fortress wall shouldn't be too difficult. The real question is how many times—and how often—he can use magic of that magnitude.
At a guess, after using it once or twice, he would be unable to do so again for quite some time.
If mages could freely hurl magic of such overwhelming power, the world would already be ruled by them.
"Of course, a destroyed fortress will lose its defensive function, but since our objective is to suppress the rebellion, there's no need to occupy it," Jürgen continued.
In fact, it would be better to thoroughly demolish it, so that the enemy could not retake it and block their line of retreat.
With only a single route available, being cut off at a critical moment would invite disaster.
"The routes from Bodiam to Krepfeld's capital branch into three, but it would be better to decide that after taking Bodiam and assessing the situation. We still don't know how the enemy will respond."
Having finished speaking, Jürgen looked around the assembled lords as if to ask whether there were any questions.
When no other voices were raised, Lucian—who had remained silent until then—opened his mouth.
"Just one thing I'd like to ask. There doesn't seem to be a river along the route to Bodiam—are there other places where we can secure drinking water?"
Water is the most important element in logistics.
After all, people cannot survive without water.
At the same time, it is also the most difficult supply to provide.
Surprisingly, water takes up a great deal of volume in proportion to how much is consumed—and it's heavy as well. It's also difficult to store for long periods.
For these reasons, transporting and supplying an army's entire water requirement directly is close to impossible.
And yet, water shortages do not often become an obvious issue, because humans tend to live near water.
Whether one occupies a fortress or a village, anywhere people live, there is usually a source of water.
So long as no one deliberately sabotages the water source, finding water is not particularly difficult.
Yes—so long as it isn't deliberately sabotaged.
With a river, there is no such concern.
Unless one mobilizes at a national scale for years, destroying or contaminating a river is virtually impossible.
But wells or small streams are a different matter entirely.
Hesitating slightly, Jürgen answered Lucian's question.
"According to the map, there are three villages along the way. All of them have wells, and near the second village there's also a small stream. Securing water shouldn't be difficult."
"Hm."
At that worst-possible answer, Lucian frowned.
Aren't those all places that could be wiped out in an instant if someone put their mind to it?
But Marquis Bernhardt let out a snort at Lucian's darkened expression.
"Polluting drinking water is a violation of the Grand Accord."
"It seems you still believe Krepfeld will uphold the Grand Accord."
"And you believe the opposite. Unfortunately, your opinion has already been dismissed. There's no need to discuss matters based on an argument that's been rejected."
"That is correct."
The First Prince chimed in, clearly agreeing with the Marquis.
Then he turned a cold gaze toward Lucian.
"The premise of the policy decided yesterday is that the enemy will not violate the Grand Accord. I would appreciate it if you stopped clinging to an argument that has already been dismissed."
"My apologies."
Lucian accepted the rebuke without protest and stepped back.
He had ignored even the final warning—whatever happened now would be nothing but self-inflicted consequences.
From this point on, even if problems arose, no one would be able to blame Lucian for them.
When no further opinions were voiced, the First Prince rose from his seat and addressed the assembled lords.
"If there are no further objections, we'll conclude the council here. We will advance on Bodiam as quickly as possible and bring the fortress down!"
No matter how elite the troops gathered under the banner of an allied army might be, they were bound to operate awkwardly together.
With different affiliations and different systems of training, the moment they were mixed indiscriminately, chaos would ensue.
Therefore, before setting out, it was necessary to determine in advance which forces would hold which positions.
"Count Rakmo and Viscount Montel will take the left wing; Viscount Bran and Count Saibon the right wing; and the rest of you will…"
Before the advance began in earnest, Jürgen announced the roles each contingent would assume.
It was a deployment that took into intricate account not only the individual strength of each lord, but also their political standing and the relationships between their noble houses.
"Duke Lucian, please take charge of the left and right flanks of the vanguard together with His Excellency the Marquis. His Highness the First Prince will lead the Imperial Guard behind you."
"Understood."
Lucian nodded lightly.
The vanguard was the position that faced the enemy first, but also the one where merit was most easily earned.
It was a post everyone coveted, and there was no one more suitable for it than the Marquis and Lucian.
Just as Lucian was about to move his troops to their assigned positions—
"If you wish, Duke Lucian, I can place you in the rear instead. You still seem rather worried that Krepfeld might violate the Grand Accord."
At the First Prince's blatant sneer from behind, everyone froze.
It was essentially saying, If you're scared, stay quietly in the back.
Even Marquis Bernhardt found himself unable to laugh this time.
To insult one of the strongest allies on the eve of battle!
All eyes turned anxiously toward Lucian—but instead of bristling, he let out a soft chuckle.
"It's fine. I may worry a great deal, but that doesn't mean I lack courage. In fact, the people of House Valdeck are often too bold for their own good. I'm more concerned that we might end up startling Your Highness later on."
"…Is that so? Then let's see just how bold you are, in due time."
Having boldly deflected the insult, Lucian left the First Prince looking bored as he turned away and departed.
Only then did everyone let out the breath they'd been holding.
Jürgen, standing at the very front, bowed repeatedly toward Lucian, his face full of admiration.
"Duke Lucian, you have my sincerest thanks! I don't even know how to repay you for this—"
"For what? I haven't done anything. Since the time to march is approaching, I'll go and see to the deployment of my troops."
"Hah…"
As Lucian turned away with a smile, an involuntary exclamation of admiration escaped Jürgen's lips.
It had been an insult enough to send a green novice into a rage, and even a seasoned noble would have found it hard not to show his displeasure.
When I first heard the rumors, I thought they were exaggerated—but now that I see him again, I wonder if they were actually understated.
With that kind of breadth of spirit, he was bound to become far more than a merely competent figure.
Once this rebellion was suppressed and they returned, Jürgen resolved to make sure the Emperor understood just how important Lucian was.
"Damn it. To think the cub of a lion already knows how to sharpen his claws."
While Jürgen was voicing his unreserved admiration, Marquis Bernhardt twisted his face in irritation.
He had thought Lucian nothing more than a loud-mouthed upstart with a bit of presence—yet at that age, his political instincts were already far from shallow.
If he continued to grow like this, he would inevitably become a towering wall blocking the future of House Logran.
Sigmund… that man was truly blessed when it came to children. While some of us have to choose among a middling lot.
In truth, "middling" was not entirely fair.
There were a few hopeless cases mixed in, but the youths considered strong candidates for succession were fairly promising.
Even so, children he had once thought decent enough now failed to satisfy him once Lucian was brought into comparison.
No matter how he looked at it, if Lucian were to become a Grand Duke, there would be no one who could properly stand against him.
"I fear for the future of my house."
Muttering to himself, Marquis Bernhardt headed toward his assigned position.
Once this rebellion was put down, he found himself wondering whether he should impose some harsh trials to spur his children's growth.
***
Two days after beginning their march, the allied army arrived at its destination—the first village.
Though close to the borderlands, the village was fairly large, perhaps because its loose government oversight had made it an attractive place to settle.
The moment the army appeared, the village chief hurried out with the residents and bowed deeply in panic.
"W-welcome! Please, just tell us what you desire—we will give you everything! Just… please, spare us from the soldiers' looting…"
Looting was not covered by the Grand Accord, and thus often occurred during wartime.
The nobility cared little for the lives of commoners, and resupplying through plunder was sometimes not a choice but a necessity.
Naturally, once they heard that an army was approaching, the villagers could do nothing but tremble in fear.
"We won't touch you, so don't worry. In the first place, what is there to take from a village this small?"
The First Prince snorted as he looked at the village chief and residents.
Mercenaries or rabble might be one thing, but would the elite troops of noble houses really stoop to pillaging a place like this?
Supplies were far better than loot, and even if they did plunder, it wouldn't amount to more than a handful of pay.
"That's enough. Just see to it that the soldiers are properly attended to. As long as you don't offend us, we'll stay only one night and leave immediately."
"Th-thank you! Thank you so much!"
Tears streaming down his face, the village chief repeatedly expressed his gratitude.
He then rushed about, barking orders to the villagers—having them vacate homes to prepare lodgings, draw water for drinking, and gather together the more presentable women, among other things.
Just as the lords, satisfied with the chief's brisk handling of matters, were about to let the soldiers rest—
"Hey, village chief. I have a question."
Lucian called out to him with a subtle, unreadable expression.
The village chief, who had been bustling about, turned pale and immediately dropped to his knees.
"Y-yes! What is it you wish to know, my lord?"
"Something's odd—there are no children to be seen in this village. Everyone I see looks like an adult."
"C-children, you say? When word of the war spread, we sent them away to evacuate."
"Evacuated them, huh. To where?"
"To Bodiam. It's the safest place, after all…"
At the village chief's answer, a cold smile crept across Lucian's face.
"You're a poor liar."
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