"Proceed."
Valeria straightened his posture, bracing himself. He noticed a flicker of hesitation in Clemence's eyes, a rare crack in the Captain's usually stoic demeanor. It was a look that made Valeria's stomach churn with anticipation.
"The orders are as follows," Clemence began, his voice stiff. "Your army is to continue operations in the Great Forest. This includes reclaiming the occupied city, mopping up remaining combatants, and exterminating the surviving elven villages. Furthermore, reconnaissance units are to be dispatched to search for the whereabouts of Zesshi Zetsumei and the Elf King, under the pretext of surveying for high-tier magical beasts."
Meaningless.
Valeria kept his face like stone, raising only a single eyebrow.
He is merely the messenger. Do not shoot the messenger.
The first half of the command was standard military doctrine. Many powerful forest elves had fled into the depths of the woodlands. If they were allowed to regroup, or worse, defect to the Sorcerer Kingdom out of spite, it would strengthen the enemy at zero cost. These were veterans fueled by centuries of hatred; they had to be neutralized.
But the latter order, the search for Zesshi? That was worse than futile. It was a farce.
Ah… I see. It's bait.
The realization hit Valeria with the force of a physical blow.
The Supreme Executive Council wasn't stupid. They must have anticipated that the Sorcerer Kingdom would exploit this chaotic vacuum. Would the Sorcerer King truly be satisfied with eliminating Zesshi Zetsumei alone? Unlikely. A creature that consumed nations would not stop at an appetizer. Valeria's army was the main course.
If they ordered an immediate mass retreat, the chaos would leave them vulnerable, and it would take days to reach the border, ample time for an enemy capable of high-tier teleportation to pick them apart.
So, we are to remain.
By keeping the army stationed here, active and noisy, they forced the Sorcerer Kingdom to reveal its hand. The Council was dangling fifty thousand human lives on a hook to see what kind of monster would bite.
"Also," Clemence continued, shifting his weight uncomfortably, "The Clearwater Scripture and Windflower Scripture will arrive by tomorrow noon. Their primary task is to reexamine the Elf King's capital. After that… they will investigate possible infiltration within our army."
"As expected," Valeria nodded grimly. "A sound judgment."
If the Sorcerer King had moved this decisively, he hadn't just stumbled upon the battlefield. He had been watching. Waiting. Which meant his eyes and ears [spys] were likely already walking among Valeria's own men.
The Theocracy had accelerated this war due to pressure from the Sorcerer Kingdom's expansion. The destruction of the kingdom. Had the Sorcerer King manipulated that urgency? Had he herded us here?
Valeria's eyes narrowed, staring past the tent walls, trying to pierce the darkness to find an enemy he couldn't see. We have been dancing in the palm of his hand from the very beginning.
"There is… one final order," Clemence said. He didn't meet Valeria's eyes.
"Speak."
"Regrettably, the Supreme Executive Council has ordered that only Your Excellency and the Black Scripture are to return to the homeland immediately. Command of the remaining forces will be entrusted to the adjutants and staff officers."
The tent fell silent.
"What?"
The word left Valeria's lips as a low growl. The calm mask of the Commander-in-Chief cracked, revealing the raw fury of the old soldier beneath.
"Our army's mission, to be blunt, is to act as a sacrifice, a bait for the Sorcerer Kingdom's next move," Valeria stepped forward, his voice rising. "And now you tell me the Council intends to withdraw me to safety? Like a coward in the night?"
"… I am sorry, Commander." Clemence looked genuinely ashamed.
"So the Supreme Executive Council truly knows how to 'cherish talent,'" Valeria spat."I am deeply grateful for their generosity in allowing me to live while my men burn."
"Your Excellency, please understand…"
"I will remain here," Valeria cut him off, his voice thundering through the small tent. "I will live and die with this army. I will not abandon them, nor will I use them as disposable meat for the grinder." *[bait = meat, right? readers]
The air in the tent grew heavy, thick with the clash of wills.
Clemence closed his eyes, taking a long, steadying breath. When he opened them, the shame was gone, replaced by the steely resolve of the Captain of the Black Scripture.
"I respect your resolve, General. Truly. But when the weak oppose the strong, wisdom is the only weapon we have left. Our inevitable clash with the Sorcerer Kingdom is coming. Your experience, your tactical mind… the Cardinals believe it is indispensable for the survival of the Theocracy."
Valeria wavered.
It was a rational argument. Cold, but entirely correct. Returning to the Theocracy might allow him to contribute to the defense of the homeland. Dying here, amidst the burning trees, would achieve nothing but a moral victory.
He looked at the map table. He thought of the young adjutants who looked up to him. the thousands of soldiers sleeping outside, dreaming of home, unaware that their leaders had already signed their death warrants.
"Indispensable…" Valeria whispered the word, tasting the ash of it.
"Yes," Clemence urged gently. "Please."
Valeria closed his eyes. He saw the faces of the men he had led for years.
"Thank you, Captain," he said quietly, opening his eyes. "However, I must refuse. If I fled now… if I abandoned them to save my own skin… the guilt would rot me from the inside out. My 'wisdom' would be rendered meaningless by shame."
Clemence stepped forward as if to argue, but Valeria raised a hand, palm out.
"That is enough. At my age, a clear conscience matters more than a few extra years of life. A commander does not leave his post when the ship is sinking. If I am to be bait, then let me be the finest bait I can be."
Valeria let out a genuine, and tired smile.
"And if you would… please convey a message to the Cardinals: tell them that occasionally, they should consider the hearts of those on the front lines, not just the numbers on a page."
Clemence stared at the old man for a long moment. Then, slowly, he brought his fist to his chest in a salute of deepest respect, not to a superior officer, but to a great man.
"… Understood. I will relay your words faithfully. Including your tone."
...
"Hah," Valeria let out a dry chuckle. "Good lad." His expression softened. "Go now. Take the Scripture and go. For the future of humanity, you and the others… you are the ones who must not fall here."
"Understood. Please… take care, General. Farewell."
Clemence bowed low. At his signal, the members of the Black Scripture gathered. A spell was woven, reality twisted, and in a flash of blue light, the heroes of the Theocracy vanished.
"… Alright."
Valeria stood alone in the silence of the tent. He stretched his arms, hearing his old joints pop, as if setting down a heavy burden he had carried for a lifetime.
"Exterminating the remnants of the elves… This may be the last sin I commit for the Theocracy."
He walked to the entrance of the tent and pushed the flap aside, looking out at the sleeping camp.
"No," he whispered to the night air. "For humanity."
That night, Valeria slept little. He reorganized the defensive lines, reassigned the greenest units to the rear, and wrote letters he knew would never be delivered.
When morning arrived, the sun rose over the Great Forest with an unsettling brilliance.